Already a subscriber? Log in
So who is the real Petraeus? Now, at least, good questions are being asked about the rise of the man they called ‘P4’. (A reference to his four-star general status). How did an officer with no personal experience of direct fire combat in Panama or Desert Storm become a division commander in 2003? Why did we promote a man who just shamelessly reinforced whatever dumb idea his superior advanced, regardless of its impact on soldiers, let alone the nation? How did a man who served repeatedly as a sycophantic aide de camp, military assistant and executive officer progress so far? Many in and out of uniform warned against the famous ‘surge’, which in the end did nothing but provide cover for our retreat from Iraq. How was it that this same man repeated the same self-defeating tactics in Afghanistan?
There were plenty of people who had warned that Petraeus was a fraud from the start, a politically-driven, class-A narcissist. But it is becoming clear that the public was protected from the real Petraeus by his now infamous ‘inner circle’: neoconservative think-tankers, fawning scholars, court scribes, and officer acolytes like the ill-fated Gen. Stanley McChrystal and John Nagl. Also, of course, his future paramour and biographer, Paula Broadwell. All of these played some role in overstating the impact and brilliance of the surge in Iraq, and of the COIN (counterinsurgency) doctrine.
As time went by, P4’s fans rose through the ranks and became ever more influential. They created an atmosphere in which David Petraeus was the Don Draper of the Pentagon, a general who reporters would leap out like hellcats to defend.
One of the most interesting effects of the last few days is that the cult of Petraeus is finally beginning to unravel. Journalists are admitting they were duped, sucked in along with the rest of the courtiers and counter-insurgency ‘experts’ perpetuating the positive war narrative. Wired’s Spencer Ackerman probably offered the most poignant and honest lament in this regard, in an article called ‘How I Was Drawn Into the Cult of David Petraeus’. Ackerman was never one of the greatest offenders. Still, he suggests that Petraeus and his staff were masters at handling the press, whose subtle methods played upon reporters’ thirst for access and their unabashed awe (and sense of inferiority) in the military milieu, which resulted in unquestioning write-ups.
‘To be clear,’ writes Ackerman, ‘none of this was the old quid pro quo of access for positive coverage. It worked more subtly than that: the more I interacted with his staff, the more persuasive their points seemed. Nor did I write anything I didn’t believe or couldn’t back up — but in retrospect, I was insufficiently critical. Another irony that Petraeus’s downfall reveals is that some of us who egotistically thought our coverage of Petraeus and counterinsurgency was so sophisticated were perpetuating myths without fully realising it.’
But what does the whole saga say about the American public? Well, at first blush, I’d say we deserved every single second of this painful, tawdry realisation. We’ve turned into such a pathetic plastic consumer culture that we bought a pathetic plastic story of a hero-general and then expected great things from him. We looked away when Petraeus did not perform — even made excuses for him (it was all President Obama’s fault). Even now, after his admission that he cheated on his wife of 37 years with a married woman and mother of two young sons, we will continue to make excuses, because it will make us feel better about what suckers we’ve all become.
Also in Society
Latest
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in