Advice to the Ankle-biters

Many on the right have criticised the president for not doing enough to maintain support for the war in Iraq. Maybe they are right.

But maybe it is better for the president to wait until his opposition attacks before responding with a counterattack.

Suppose he had spent the whole of the last year making speeches on the progress in the war. Why then his opponents would be accusing him of hyping progess, and the Bush Lied folks would be parsing everything he said and would be writing about how on September 17th there really weren’t 95 Iraqi battalions ready for combat but only 87. And that would prove that Bush’s “credibility” was destroyed. And therefore we should bring the troops home.

In any war there are ups and downs. In any war there are horrible mistakes and miscues. In any war you can make a case for disaster any time up to the final battle. In any war there is always a case to be made that the whole thing has been mismanaged from the start, that the leaders didn’t have a clue, that they went in without a plan, that the military contractors are fleecing the government, that the army is broken, that the generals are fools.

In any war there will always be the Falstaffs, whining before the battle in Henry IV Part 1, “I would ’twere bedtime, Hal, and all well.” Do not we all wish that secretly in our hearts?

So the best strategy for the president is probably to keep quiet most of the time and round on his critics, as he did on Wednesday, when they present him with a favorable opportunity for a skirmish.

The best strategy for the Democrats is to keep up the ankle-biting. With their constant carping they have succeeded in eating away at the president’s popularity, and they have kept their left-wing crazies home. If things go south, they can say: “We told you so.” If things go well, they can tell a war-weary nation that it is time for a change.

Of course, that would be dishonorable. But as Falstaff says:

What is honor? A word. What is in that word honor? What is that honor? Air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? He that died o’ Wednesday. Doth he feel it? No. Doth he hear it? No. ’Tis insensible, then? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? No. Why? Detraction will not suffer it. Therefore I’ll none of it. Honor is a mere scutcheon.

Who needs it?