The Ancient Failings of George W. Bush
And you thought he was just one of the worst leaders in American history.

December 18 2006
Counterbias.com
STEVE HOROWITZ
 

"Bear in mind the truth of the old saying that the end is not obvious at the beginning."

In an attempt to concentrate less on the grave and deteriorating presidency of George W. Bush -- and in search, I suppose, of clues from the first democracy as to how the American version could arrive at its present predicament -- I've been immersing myself in the history of Ancient Greece. Among the many books I've read on the subject is "The Histories," by Herodotus, a 5th Century B.C. Greek historian (actually, he's known as "the father of history") who chronicled the 20-year war between the Greeks and Persians that began around 499 B.C.

It's a fascinating, if often confusing, work, filled with hundreds of unpronounceable names and long-forgotten cultures. But it failed to distract me from the wreckage of the deepening disaster in Iraq. For it seems that this irrational misadventure, with all its tragic consequences, could have been foreseen 2.400 years ago.

It was early in the 5th Century B.C., and King Xerxes, leader of the most powerful nation in the world, held a grudge. The free Greek city-state of Athens had actively aided rebellions against Persian rule by Greek communities on the west coast of present-day Turkey. The rebellions were only briefly successful, having been quickly thwarted by King Darius, Xerxes' father. Now the time had come for retaliation. "You ought to march against Greece," an adviser urged. "It will enhance your reputation, and also make people think twice in the future before attacking your territory."

I read the words again, then a third time. Why did they sound so familiar? What was this feeling of reverse deja vu?

But of course. Early in the 21st Century, President Bush, leader of the most powerful nation in the world, held a grudge. A Mesopotamian tyrant had been defying the United States for more than a decade, although thwarted in an attack on its neighbor by Bush's father. But Dad hadn't quite finished the job, and word was that the tyrant had plotted to assassinate him. It was even possible that he was behind a savage terrorist attack on two major cities, and that he harbored weapons of mass destruction. Now the time had come for retaliation. You should attack Iraq and topple Saddam Hussein, his neocon advisers urged. It will enhance your reputation, and make people think twice before attacking our territory.

King Xerxes, as it happens, was not the leader his father was, and knew it. So proving himself the equal of Darius and previous Persian conquerers was always on his mind. "When I became the king of Persia," he told the men he'd gathered to announce his invasion plans, "I began to wonder how to avoid being left behind by those who preceded me in this position of honor."

Former Texas Air National Guard dropout George W. Bush, son of a war hero whose 1991 coalition crushed the Iraqi army in 100 hours, also worried about being left behind, and thought he knew how to avoid it. "One of the keys to being seen as a great leader," he told a journalist in 1999, "is to be seen as a commander-in-chief."

The neocons in Xerxes' administration very much liked the idea of a Greek invasion. "Who is going to oppose you?" asked Mardonius, Xerxes' Rumsfeld. "When it comes to military matters there is no one in the world to match us."

But Xerxes also had his Colin Powell -- his uncle, Artabanus, who counseled a caution borne of painful experience. "I told your father, my brother Darius, not to attack the Scythians ... but he didn't listen to me. So he launched a campaign against them and when he came back he had lost a great many brave fighting men."

(Scythia -- the 5th Century B.C.'s Vietnam.)

"Even a massive army may be destroyed by a small force if it attracts the god's resentment," Artabanus warned. "This happens because the god does not allow anyone but himself to feel pride. The offspring of haste in any venture is error, and error in turn tends to lead to serious harm."

But warnings against haste and hubris did not deter Xerxes. According to Herodotus, the planning took four years -- during which time Xerxes remained firm in his desire to become a war king. Finally, in 490, Xerxes led his forces out of present-day Turkey on its march for Greece.

When the Persians reached the Hellespont, where Xerxes would have his men construct a bridge for the crossing to Europe, Artabanus had one last shot at getting the king to consider the risks of an invasion -- despite Xerxes' admonition that "We shouldn't talk about bad things when involved in good things like our current project."

"A man of true caliber," Artabanus said, "is one who combines fear when laying his plans, so that he weighs up everything that might happen to him, with courage in carrying them out."

To which Xerxes replied, "Prizes are invariably won ... by those who are prepared to act, rather than by those who weigh everything up and hesitate." He then sent his uncle home.

And so Xerxes continued on his quest for whatever "prize" he was gambling on winning. All went well; the Persians murdered and pillaged their way down to Athens, where they burned down the Acropolis. The Athenians had abandoned their city, and were huddled in fear on the tiny nearby island of Salamis.

Where their navy, outnumbered by roughly (accounts vary) three to one, routed the Persian fleet, sending them in panic across the Aegean to the port city of Mycale. The following year the Greeks wiped out Persia's land forces at Plataea, north of Athens, and finished off the the remaining Persian ships at Mycale.

Because the fledgling Athenian democracy -- along with subsequent achievements in philosophy, science, and drama -- would have been extinguished had Persia prevailed, the Battle of Salamis is often called the single most important military encounter in history. So we should all be grateful for King Xerxes' many personal failings: his hubris. His need to prove himself his father's equal. His reckless attempt to assure his place in history. His unwillingness to "weigh everything up" and imagine outcomes other than easy victory -- to "talk about bad things."

As Artabanus had warned that day at the Hellespont 2,400 years ago, "Complex affairs inevitably require further thought." And the world's mightiest nation paid a steep price because of the lack of it.

The irony is, George W. Bush majored in history.
 

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