Australia divided in a questionable war

Damien Kingsbury, Head of Philosophical, Political and International Studies, Deakin University, Victoria, Australia

In an active civil society a people openly talks with, and amongst, itself. In Australia, civil society is in the middle of a passionate argument. The argument is, of course, focused on the war in Iraq, and more specifically on its role in that war.

A few days prior to the war, more than 70 percent of the Australian population was opposed to war in Iraq without a clear UN mandate. Less than 20 percent were in favor of such a war.

This was reflected in anti-war rallies involving hundreds of thousands of Australians from all cultural backgrounds. Melbourne saw close to 200,000 people cram the city's main street to march against the then coming war, making this demonstration close to twice the size of the previous largest protest, in 1971, against Australia's involvement in the Vietnam war.

Yet since the Iraq war started, initial polls show that opposition to the war has fallen to around 50 percent. This is still very significant opposition, and does not count all those who remain ambivalent about the war or Australia's involvement in it.

But the protests have been much smaller, the largest on the day conflict broke out having less than 30,000 people, although there have been many of them. In some cities, such as Sydney and Brisbane, the protests have turned violent.

Similarly, the letters pages of the newspapers are filled with protests about the war and Australia's involvement in it. But the news pages themselves, as with radio and television news, has been saturated with almost entirely unquestioning field reports and surprisingly moderate commentary. The Australian news media still accords, it seems, with a minority of Australians on this issue.

In part the shift away from overwhelming opposition to the war stems from the view that while war is to be opposed where possible, once it is engaged it must be prosecuted with full force.

In part, too, there is a lingering memory of the poor treatment meted out to returned veterans of the Vietnam War. There is now widespread agreement in Australia that governments, not soldiers, are responsible for engaging in war. To this end, the view that Australian soldiers should not be held responsible for their actions ordered by politicians has translated into support for them, and hence their present task.

At least as importantly, the "theatrics" of war and the vicarious danger, all combine to persuade many less critical thinkers that it is all good, manly stuff. But few who have experienced war succumb to such theatrics, which is why Vietnam veterans are amongst those protesting.

Within the "theater", some Australian journalists embedded in the fighting units have assumed glamour by association, and the obligation to be one of, and support, their specific team. Meanwhile, Australian journalists located at headquarters are finding real information very difficult to come by.

Information from U.S. and British sources is relatively available. But questions about Australian military activity is referred to Australian military officials. With Australian combatants as a part of the U.S. military effort, no distinction is made between them from a U.S. perspective, so no specific information is available. And because of this, Australian military officials also have no specific information, although to save face they rely on "operational restrictions" on responding to requests for information.

This frustrates some journalists, but has not yet created a sense of distrust, much less opposition. The allied command has made it very clear that "opposition" as such, or even unfavorable reporting, is not to be tolerated from the media of neutral states, much less allies.

As a consequence of effective military control over information, the Australian public is bombarded with images and information that is descriptive and colorful but very largely meaning-free. This domestic "psychological operations" front is, therefore, having some success. If this success is measured by some shift in public opinion, the extent to which this shift is sustained will depend on the success of the conflict.

The original proposition that the war would be quick has effectively disappeared, to be replaced by the rhetoric of longer term commitment. This is politically dangerous, not least in Australia where it appears that maximum support for the conflict is not likely to include half of the voting population.

Australian Prime Minister, John Howard, needed a quick and relatively clean success if he was to make political capital from committing Australian forces to the coalition cause. It was a gamble that now seems may not pay off.

As the war slows, what little popularity the war might have can be expected to recede. "Unexpected" complications, such as Turkey's incursion into Kurdish Iraq, Syria's material support for the Iraqi military, and Iran's activities in Shi'ite southern Iraq, have not just added to the set-backs, but each has the potential to develop into its own conflict.

Indeed, the prospect that the somewhat arbitrary map of the region may be redrawn as a consequence of this war is increasingly likely. Other reverberations to come from the conflict, not least in attracting disaffected Islamic youth in many countries to a parallel radical Islamic and anti-U.S. cause, may also unsettle the region, and could feed into the prospect of more global terrorism.

Thus if the coalition is successful it will probably engender a backlash from some Islamic groups, and if it fails it will embolden these same groups to rise up. These are nightmare prospects for the coalition countries. In Britain such adverse outcomes could spell the end of Tony Blair as Prime Minister, and in Australia could topple John Howard.

In the interim, in Australia, the protests and letter writing continues, the public remains in part enthralled and in part appalled by the images and arguments being presented. And slowly it is starting to sink in, if it was ever in doubt, that there remains no demonstrated link between Saddam Hussein and global terrorism, and unless they are being saved for a last-ditch effort, it seems increasingly unlikely that Iraq has "weapons of mass destruction".

In all of this, Saddam Hussein will undoubtedly be removed from office. But it will increasingly be asked why, in a world full of so many demonstrably evil regimes, such focus has been on this particular man. It is a question that troubles, and will continue to trouble, the minds of many whose governments have committed their armed forces to this war. The wider and longer- term consequences of the war may be even more troubling.