Once
upon a time there was a President named George who wanted to be
Emperor. (Not a bad idea. He was a lousy President. He really needed a
different job.)
President George had traveled to Mexico--once. So
he figured the whole world was pretty much like Texas . He thought about
it for, oh, five minutes. What he needed was a country far, far away to
invade. Surely those foreigners would be charmed by his folksy swagger
(being more primitive and all). They'd appreciate him more than those
Gosh Darn Americans, who had awfully high expectations of a President.
Why, he imagined these foreigners would bow and scrape and wow over his
every golf shot.
So he pulled out a map. And he saw Iraq--- with a
"Q." And he asked one of his ministers what he'd heard about this
place. The minister's eyes got bright: "Ohhh," he said. "Iraq's got oil
and pipelines. We could make some serious profits if we grabbed Baghdad ,
and tossed its rulers in the trash can of history."
Well, if
there was one thing President George understood, it was oil profits.
That's what paid for those Black Helicopters ferrying rich folks to
private parties in Houston . Absolutely everybody who was anybody had a
helo-pad on their ranch. So when George heard about Iraq's oil, he saw
his destiny. He would be Emperor of the World from Texas to Baghdad.
President
George called all his Republican friends to a Grand Old Party, where he
proclaimed his vision. He promised to share Iraq's oil wealth (so they
could ride in helicopters and private jets, too). And he started handing
out military contracts by the fistful.
And the Republicans declared, "This is a Democracy. We vote to make you Emperor."
And George answered, "Amen."
There
was just one pesky Little Female who would not shut her mouth! He
called her "Miss Bossy Boots," and he hated her like nobody else. She
was T-R-O-U-B-L-E!!! See, she'd been a covert back channel to Iraqi
diplomats at the United Nations in New York years before he ever got to
be President. And she shrieked from the rooftops and banged on every
door on Capitol Hill , warning this War with Iraq would be catastrophic.
Some
of his opponents compared her to Cassandra, who prophesied the defeat
of Troy . Miss Bossy Boots kept raving that War in Iraq "would cost $1.6
Trillion--" not the puny $300 billion that his allies insisted on. She
declared it would "bankrupt the Middle Class, create upward pressure on
taxes, and push Wall Street into a double-dip recession." This lady had
spunk, everybody agreed. But she was determined to rain on his parade,
insisting the wannabe Emperor had no clothes.
Worst of all, her
CIA team had negotiated a comprehensive peace framework that annihilated
every possible justification for War. Through her covert back channel,
Iraq had consented to 1) resume weapons inspections; 2) invite an FBI
Task Force into Baghdad, with authorization to conduct terrorism
investigations; and 3) deliver priority contracts to American
corporations in telecommunications; health care, hospital equipment and
pharmaceuticals; and non-dual use factory equipment.
Why, Iraq had agreed to import 1 million American manufactured automobiles from Detroit and Indiana every year for 10 years!
The
CIA's peace option would mean good jobs with good salaries for American
workers, so they could consume endlessly, pumping up profits on Wall
Street . If that wasn't annoying enough, Iraq was ready to give America
all the Oil Contracts it wanted.
Why, Baghdad even proposed a
highly innovative plan for democratic reforms. They offered to
repatriate exiles and house them at expanded Embassy compounds protected
by Embassy security. Returning exiles would be allowed to establish
political parties, and compete in national elections overseen by
America's favorite ex-President, Jimmy Carter. So the Democracy card was
out of play, too.
Miss Bossy Boots! That b*tch accomplished it all without the deployment of a single soldier or the death of one Iraqi child.
Damnit! President George wanted to be Emperor. And he needed this War to do it.
Just
about this time, spies from his Intelligence Services uncovered a rag
tag conspiracy hatched over a campfire in a cave in Pakistan . Kicking
over the coals, the wild-eyed young conspirators dreamed of hijacking
airplanes and striking a famous building in New York City . George
smirked. That suited his plans perfectly. If the attack achieved maximum
destruction, George could lay the blame on Iraq--- and he'd have all
the excuse for War that a President-- er, an Emperor-- could desire.
Here
came Miss Bossy Boots again! She'd got wind of that terrorist
conspiracy, too, and she wasn't playing the game. That stupid woman kept
trying to get law enforcement to cooperate with her Intelligence team
to block the attack!
FEMALES! He snorted and sulked and pouted!
Now
George might have been a lousy President, but a life-time of mediocrity
had taught him how to attack anybody who threatened to expose his
weaknesses. Getting rid of her would require a degree of ruthlessness.
But an Emperor had to be ready to sacrifice his country and his people
for his own ambition.
George knew what to do. He declared that
anybody who opposed his War against Iraq would be guilty of Treason. His
friends in Congress rushed through a law called the "Patriot Act." It
declared that troublemakers and truth tellers could be detained without a
trial or hearing, facing secret charges, secret evidence and secret
grand jury testimony. They could be locked in prison "indefinitely,"
until they got wise to who was boss! And it wasn't "the power of the
people--" like those demonstrators kept shouting outside his bedroom
window at the White House .
Emperor George gave the order for Miss
Bossy Boots to be thrown in a dungeon --- on a military base in Texas
far away from the Talking Heads in Washington . He strutted around the
Oval Office, celebrating his triumph, while his advisers giggled
hysterically. She'd be helpless in Texas. Not one of those prison guards
would listen to her stories about the dangers of invading Iraq, because
they'd never traveled beyond Mexico , either. And those military
generals running the base would do their part. They wouldn't want their
soldiers to hear her rants, while they were packing up to become cannon
fodder in Baghdad.
Just for good measure, Emperor George declared her "incompetent."
Oh
he would teach that female a lesson alright! Miss Bossy Boots would
make a good scapegoat. If the War got tough, Emperor George would insist
it was all her fault! He would blame her for "poor intelligence before
the War." The more outrageous the lie the better its chance of success,
after all. As the coup de gras, she would be denied the right to a
Trial. That way she could never call witnesses to dispute the
government's phony stories about Pre-War Intelligence. And she could
never expose the government's advance knowledge of that hijacking
conspiracy.
Who said Emperor George wasn't a genius? Hey, didn't
Troy make out okay in the end? He couldn't remember. Miss Bossy Boots
would know. Given five minutes, she'd probably try to tell him. Well, by
golly, he wasn't going to listen!
With a sh*t-eater's grin, he shipped her off to prison on Carswell Air Force Base .
Except
the War didn't go as planned. The Iraqi people were not so primitive as
Emperor George anticipated. They fought hard for freedom and the right
not to live under a violent Foreign Occupation. American soldiers were
hated. None of the other world leaders trusted Emperor George, and
America's pre-eminence and moral authority collapsed on the world stage.
Blaming
Miss Bossy Boots didn't work, either. The Middle Class was too smart
for that game. They knew Emperor George and his friends in Congress were
to blame for pushing the country into this stupid and unnecessary War.
The Middle Class survived every day confronting the damage and losses to
the domestic economy, caused by the massive deficit spending and
national debt to pay for this failed Empire. They watched money dry up
for schools and parks. Roads and bridges got bad and started to break
apart. There was no money for police or teachers. Little boys and girls
couldn't grow up to become firefighters--which looked like the best job
in the world for 10 year olds, who dreamed of becoming heroes. Ordinary
people couldn't afford medicine.
Emperor George packed his bags and tried to sneak out of town to live out his days on his ranch back home in Texas.
As he was driving away, the crowds lined the streets and he could hear them shout:
"Ain't no power, like the power of the people, 'cause the power of the people don't stop. No way."
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Susan Lindauer is the author of "Extreme Prejudice: The Terrifying Story of the Patriot Act and the Cover Ups of 9/11 and Iraq--"