Read this, too:

It is not, for instance, true that it was the American-led invasion that opened season on the slaughter of innocent Iraqi civilians. Whatever else the Bush administration made up about Iraq, the rank murderousness of Saddam Hussein was not one of them. Amid the gunfire and giddiness of Baghdad right after its fall in April 2003, it was common to find people converging onto bits of infrastructure, manically fueled by the rumor mill: someone had said that there was a torture chamber underneath this stretch of highway; a secret prison built into this wall. People had no time to be interviewed; if they talked at all, they'd keep going as they panted: "My husband/brother/son disappeared twenty odd years ago; he could still be alive; I have to get him out." I remember going to a mass grave; a "minor" one, not far from Hilla. People were digging there, too: for bones, which were piled everywhere, a sickening canine bonanza. Close by there still lived a man who had seen what had happened there in the days after the war with Kuwait, but kept his mouth shut for years: busloads of innocent Shi'ites, screaming 'God is Great' at the top of their lungs, had been unloaded, rung around pre-dug graves, and shot.

Of course, it makes sense for Americans to feel more interested - and implicated -- in suffering that is inflicted in the context of an American occupation. And there is no question that - and it kills me that it has come to this -- fewer and fewer Iraqis see life after Saddam as any better than life under Saddam. Still, one needn't be a hawk, nor a rocket scientist, to give half a moment's thought to the possibility that the post-invasion suffering in Iraq, which we see and hear about constantly - as, of course, we should -- may seem disproportionately greater to us than the pre-invasion suffering, which we almost never saw or heard about at all.

It is not true that the Americans invaded Iraq against the will of the Iraqi people. They did so against the will of Saddam, against the will of those who flourished under Saddam, and against the will of numerous Sunn'is and Christians, most of them utterly blameless for the crimes of the regime, who feared what would happen to them after the Shi'ites got out from under Saddam. This last is not an inconsiderable group - except as compared to the Shi'ites and the Kurds, who overwhelmingly wanted the invasion and welcomed it.

I know that these anecdotes will sound as if Karen Hughes or somebody paid me to cook them up, but they all really happened: The day I met Riyadh, he told me what he had been doing before the war. He and his family would sit around and listen to underground BBC radio. And if the French or somebody else in the U.N. seemed to come up with something that would offer the world a glimmer of hope that war could be avoided, their reaction was not, "thank God." It was: "Oh shit."

Tanks roll. Throngs along the street raise fists in rage and celebration. What will America bring? According to the New York Times ( a paper with recent credibility issues) one answer from a local is "Democracy, Whiskey, Sexy!" The phrase catches on with many. It becomes a slogan on t-shirts, bumper stickers and Blogs across America. Songs are written, recorded, and made available via internet download overnight. Hooray! With only a few deaths we've brought Democracywhiskeysexy to Iraq.

The celebration continues into the streets of downtown Baghdad as toppling statues of Saddam provide photo ops for journalists shocked that "the Big Story" is ending so soon. Absolute, total, and stunning victory leaves them starving for some angle they can use to paint a picture of desperation for their readers "back home." The quagmire of their dreams has failed to materialize, and no one wins Pulitzers for happy news. No one covers this story accurately or well. The pre-written news of dismal failures must now remain in the drawer of their minds forever. Pale attempts otherwise (coverage of riots and museum looting) will later be proved overblown and under researched. Public interest wanes.

Now return to the scene of the falling statue. Ignore the flag on the face thing, no one really cares. It's a distraction. Note instead the "crowd" of hundreds in a city of millions. I've never seen a public square so empty in daylight hours. It's likely that the vast majority were afraid as yet to face the Americans. It's certainly possible that many were not convinced that the next day would mark their departure and the return of Saddam. These people had experiences in their own lifetimes with America withdrawing hope at the last tantalizing minute. Pardon them then their lack of faith in the conquerors' good intentions. Still a thought haunts me: That given recent history, if in some way the U.S. could be invaded and conquered in like manner, the crowd of Democrats toppling statues and looting the Smithsonian would far exceed the numbers of Iraqis dancing in the streets of Baghdad that glorious day...