Feeling sorry for Tony Blair

OPINION:  This week I felt sorry for Tony Blair. It was a novel feeling, writes Joe Bennett this week.

When Tony Blair took office in 1997, he was young, trim, dapper and his grin was as wide as the Thames.

He had made it to the top and here was his chance to write his name into history.

But when he appeared this week before the Iraq Inquiry, he looked gaunt, grey, even cadaverous, as though he were being eaten from the inside. Time has not been kind to him.

Time is like a longline being hauled aboard, and you and I enjoy leaning over the side of the ship to see what will emerge next from the green mysterious waters. We are greatly encouraged in this activity by the evening news. Oh look, another earthquake, a coup, an exciting new war.

But those who seek high office are not content to spectate. They want to affect those events so that when the future has become the past, the coils and loops of line now lying on the deck will spell out their own name in capital letters.

The act for which Mr Blair will be remembered is his decision to send British troops into Iraq. There was a good case to be made for such an invasion.

Saddam Hussein was a monster. He terrorised, tortured and killed people. For sure he would die one day, but he had groomed his sons to carry on in the same style and they looked like being good at it. There would be no relief for Iraqis for a very long time unless someone came in from outside with big guns.

But any invasion is fraught with consequences, few of which are foreseeable. Previous American administrations had baulked at entering Iraq for just this reason, and George W Bush looked like following suit.

But September 11, 2001, altered everything. No-one ever suggested that Saddam had played any part in 9/11, but the mood of the Western world, and particularly the States, had changed. They wanted to act. They wanted to bash someone up. And Tony Blair said Britain would join in.

The biggest crowd in British history gathered to protest against the decision. And both sides predicted what would happen down the line.

Opponents saw a rerun of Vietnam, troops stationed in Iraq for indeterminate years to come, the further embitterment of the Islamic world, and al Qaeda recruiting suicidists faster than it could source gelignite to dress them in.

Supporters saw the end of a tyranny, the advent of peace, the establishment of a stable pro-Western democracy in a region that's a bit short on them, and lots of cheap oil, though they never admitted to the last of these.

Both sides were partly right. Seven long years later, Saddam and his sons are dead, things are better for the oppressed and the oil is flowing.

But the troops are still there, terrorism is alive and well, there are still bombs going off in Baghdad, and the Iraqi government doesn't yet look capable of running the country.

In other words, the present, unlike the glittering dream of the future, or the orderly arrangement of the past, is a mess. As always.

Tony Blair sold the war to parliament on the grounds that Saddam Hussein had weapons that threatened the West. As it turned out, Saddam didn't. Many critics suggested that these weapons were a mere pretext.

And in a recent television interview, Blair seemed to imply just that. He was asked whether, if he had known that there were no such weapons, he would still have invaded. He replied, "I would still have thought it right to remove him but obviously you would have to deploy different arguments about the nature of the threat."

At the inquiry these words were quoted back to Tony Blair. His response was extraordinary.

According to him they illustrated only that, despite his vast experience of giving interviews, he still had something to learn. In other words, he'd expressed himself poorly, he'd departed from the script, he'd gone off-message.

I doubt whether Tony Blair now knows whether he actually believed that Saddam had those weapons. All he knows is the message that he told at the time, the simplified version of an endlessly complex situation. Such simplification had been his way of getting what he wanted. And what he wanted was to be seen as the great liberator, to do a good and bold thing. To be a historical figure.

And now it's chewing him up. There's nothing new in this. Most of Shakespeare's tragedies are versions of the same story. Ambition has a habit of returning to plague the inventor. And just as I do for even Shakespeare's most monstrous tragic heroes, I feel some pity for Tony Blair. Power screws you up.

» Joe Bennett is an English-born travel writer and columnist who lives in New Zealand with dogs. His columns are syndicated in newspapers throughout New Zealand.

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Merv+   #1   07:23 pm Feb 03 2010

Joe

I mostly enjoy, and frequently concur with, your articles, but this one is way off beam. Tony Blair and George Bush are blatant war criminals who should be banged up together for life in Rudolf Hess's old cell.

I very much doubt that any real action will be taken against either of these scumbags, as decency and honesty has almost entirely evaporated in political circles, and wet bus tickets have become the judicial sanction norm.

Saddam Hussein was no doubt an unpleasant sort of chap to those who opposed him, but you should not forget that he started his leadership career as a protege of the Yanks. The Iran/Iraq war was entirely a USA invention, with Saddam portrayed as the "Good Guy".

I would suggest that you take a long walk with your dog(s), to recover from this unfortunate malaise of feeling sorry for Blair.

Cheers Merv

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