Opinion : The lessons of Iraq should begin with pronunciation

    Eye-Rack.

     I-rock.

    Uh-rack.

    Uh-rock.

    Ee-rock.

    Ee-rack.

    Er-ack.

    It's amazing how a word so small can be pronounced so many ways.    

    The people of that country call it "Ir-arq."

    Iraq.

    I remember my own personal qualms a decade ago, when George 43 was about to send us to war there.

    On one hand: I thought that Saddam Hussein had weapons of mass destruction. Everyone did. He wanted everyone to think that so countries like Iran (which we do agree on how to pronounce) would be afraid of a war with Iraq. Saddam also thought that his alliance with France and Russia would keep the U.N. from approving military force, and he was right. But he was wrong in thinking that GB43 would listen to the UN.

    On that same hand, I thought Saddam Hussein was a horrible leader who did not deserve to stay in his palace. He killed countless people, including his own sons-in-law. He invaded Kuwait. Leaving him in power would probably mean more civilian deaths.

    But on the other hand -- and this is an argument against going to war in Iraq that I thought should have had much more discussion than it did -- never in the course of U.S. history have we gone to war to remove a leader who had not declared war on us. (Not including Panama, which does not really count.)

     I also had the fear that what had happened in what is left of Yugoslavia would happen in Iraq after we got rid of Saddam. There, the iron hand of communism kept the Yugo Guys from fighting each other. But instead of savoring freedom, too many Balkan people decided that the demise of communism meant it was their turn to rule with tyranny. And while I knew nothing of Sunni and Shiite history, I was afraid that the people oppressed by Saddam would see his absence as a chance to become the oppressor.     

     I do believe that the U.S. had the right to do what we did in Iraq. But you also have the right to drive steal home while the pitcher still has the ball in his hand, or to drive on a road where the sign says "Enter at your own risk." But having the right to do that does not make it the right decision.

     When "shock and awe" began, I was still undecided. I still was not sure we should give war a chance.

     But we did.

    And we won, at first. Soon Saddam was in hiding; his government just disappeared. The statue came down. Bush's poll numbers went up.

      (Not that poll numbers matter; at one time 80 percent of Americans supported LBJ's course of action in Vietnam. A century earlier, there was a large percentage of northern voters who would have preferred to let the "erring sisters" of the Confederacy "depart in peace." It seems that we, as a nation, are as fickle about our wars as we are about our favorite sports teams: Everyone loves a winner.)

     But we all remember all too well what happened next. The Sunni-Shiite conflict. Homemade bombs killing thousands of U.S. troops. Silly statements by our leaders.

     Yet, every soldier that I spoke to said he believed in the mission. I did, too. I wanted it to succeed. I came to the conclusion that the war in Iraq was the right choice, but that Bush and his people made too many mistakes.     

     Then there was Libya.

      What went right in Libya was that the people overthrew their government themselves. That was what was missing in Iraq. While there were some people who wanted to see Saddam disappear, they were willing to let the U.S do the work. The Libyans, however, started the revolt themselves.      

     As I watched the demise of the Libyan leader, I realized that that was what was missing in Iraq: Revolutions and regime change are things that each country must do for itself because the people there believe in it strongly enough to make the sacrifices they need to make it happen.

      As the Founding Father said in the Declaration of Independence, it is the right of the people of a country to "alter or abolish" a government that is not serving them. It is their right alone; not the right of another country, unless the government in need of abolishing goes to war against another nation.

     I am still as undecided about the Iraq war as I was in March of 2003. I still think it's too early to tell for sure how good, or bad, the lasting impact of our actions there will be. I still think that most people in Iraq want what most people in the U.S. want: To have the chance to live and work in a land of peace, freedom and opportunity. Time will tell how successful we were in making that dream come true for them.

     But there are some things we can learn from Iraq right now.

     First of all, we should never, ever, again even think about invading a country until we agree how to pronounce its name.

     Second, we need leaders that know all about the country to which we intend to bring regime change, and who know very well just exactly who will be left to lead if the bad guys of the current government disappear.

    Third, we need to realize that changing any country's government begins -- and ends --with the people of that country. If they need our help against a guy like Gaddafi, then we can consider helping them. But the fight for freedom must begin with those who want to be free.

     Democracy, like life, is not America's to give; the best way for us to spread democracy around the world is to show the world why they should want it, too.

        That, I think, is the most important lesson we should learn from our decade in Iraq, no matter how you choose to pronounce it.