Such tactics may bring a temporary lull in the blood-letting, but they are unlikely to transform the brutal reality of Baghdad. With more than six million residents and some 250 square miles, the Iraqi capital is not going to be subdued by half-measures, and certainly not with an overall commitment of just 13,000 U.S. troops (up from 9,000 earlier in the summer). As with our last big idea for Iraq-reclaiming the country block-by-block through a policy of "clear, hold and build"-American boots and dollars are simply spread too thin; we lack the resources to make good on our full slate of objectives.

Critics of how President Bush has waged the war should finally resign themselves to the fact that Iraq is not going to receive a substantial new infusion of U.S. troops, in part because there is so little give left in our already overstretched military. Getting Baghdad right may well require, then, a partial retreat from the Sunni Triangle, where tens of thousands of our soldiers are tied down in an anti-insurgency campaign that, according to recent reports, has yielded few lasting gains. A focus on Baghdad would have definite costs-Al-Qaeda would have freer rein in western Iraq, the capital's Shi‘a militias would resist our presence, American soldiers would be more exposed-but the prospects for visible progress would improve dramatically. Better to fight well on one key front than to engage in damage control across several.

Making serious headway in Baghdad would not be just a symbolic victory, a way to generate less dismal news coverage and bolster support at home. An orderly, well-governed Baghdad would give Iraqis a glimpse of what their national future might look like and would provide some breathing room to those genuinely devoted to pluralism and political reconciliation. Brokering some kind of workable constitutional arrangement among Shi‘a, Sunnis and Kurds was never going to be easy, but it is almost guaranteed to fail against a backdrop of relentless Hobbesian mayhem. Iraq cannot survive if Iraqi politicians feel safe only in the fortified confines of the Green Zone and if the Baghdad morgue fills up each day with the victims of political murder.

Nor can the United States contemplate an exit under such circumstances. A premature withdrawal might not result in every disaster that has been foretold-a wider regional war seems unlikely-but it would be ugly. Sectarian attacks and reprisals would no doubt intensify, and Anbar province might come to resemble Afghanistan under the Taliban. The odds would tip decisively toward outright civil war. Iraq might stay together, but not on terms the United States would like, and its devolution into a failed state-one deeply entangled with our own vital economic and security interests-might well bring us back in short order.

Leaving Iraq "before the job is done", as President Bush puts it, would also confirm the region's worst suspicions of American motives. It would add yet another grievance to the Arab litany. It would enhance the prestige and appeal of the Islamists. And it would provide a ready excuse to Arab autocrats, whose resistance to liberalization needs no encouragement. Whatever the failings of the American war effort, Iraq remains the critical arena for ushering the Middle East into modernity.

Moreover, our achievements there are real. It is impressive and important that Saddam Hussein no longer menaces the region or oppresses the Shi‘a and Kurds, that Iraq has held a series of elections without precedent in the Arab world, that rival political parties and a competitive press now thrive there, and that the size and combat-readiness of the country's army increase by the day. What we have failed to provide-and what we still owe Iraq-is enough stability and security to make our talk of democratic revolution sound like something more than rhetoric. In Baghdad, if not in the country as a whole, we may yet be able to bring about those conditions.

If we do, we will have fulfilled our basic obligation to the Iraqis, who in the end must decide for themselves whether to remain a nation, and if so of what sort. The United States cannot create a new Iraq, but we can determine whether there is a decent chance to establish one.

Gary Rosen is the managing editor of Commentary and the editor of The Right War? The Conservative Debate on Iraq (Cambridge).

Focus on the Integrity of Borders

Dov S. Zakheim
Nearly four years into the Iraq War, it has become increasingly clear that the notion of a "successful" outcome requires major revision. Obviously, it is not enough to state that Saddam was deposed and that success already has been achieved. To "declare victory and go home", in the immortal words of Vermont Senator George Aiken, is to ignore the aftermath of Saddam's collapse. The bloodshed, corruption, economic stagnation and political instability that were left in his wake are hardly the indicators of a smashing operational success.

Nor can it be argued that success was achieved when no Weapons of Mass Destruction were found. If that were the case, why are we still in Iraq? Perhaps Senator Aiken would indeed have had our forces come home. But, while Aiken's linear descendants are certainly present on the American political scene, there is still little appetite among the majority of the American public for a complete and immediate withdrawal. Evidently, there is a widespread perception that however success might be defined, it has not yet been achieved.

Can success be postulated in terms of the creation of a democratic Iraq? That approach certainly has its vocal advocates. But it is an increasingly difficult position to defend. On the contrary, it is arguable that democracy as it is understood in the United States is simply not the highest priority of the ordinary Iraqi. What Iraqis, like most people, desperately seek is stability, preferably coupled with certain freedoms-to pray, to earn a living, to live in peace. Elections, however successfully carried out, do not guarantee those freedoms, nor do democratic structures.

Iraq's post-election experience demonstrates that reality-one that is particularly difficult for Americans to swallow, convinced as they are of the superiority of their own form of government. Iraq's seemingly never-ending violence, whether it is termed a civil war, or, more euphemistically, "sectarian strife", has created a sense of instability, insecurity and raw fear, for all but those Kurds living in Kurdistan. Democracy in this environment is nothing more than a sorry catch-phrase.

Indeed, the recent coup in Thailand demonstrates that even military rule can be preferable to democratic structures. The coup has been welcomed by all strata of Thai society, from the king to most ordinary of Thais. In harsh contradistinction to the democracy of Thaksin Shinawatra-the businessman for whom, it seems, even billions were not enough-it appears that Thais have concluded that a military junta affords them a better prospect of stability, safety and the absence of both corruption and intrusiveness into people's lives.

It appears, therefore, that instead of continuing to commit American blood and treasure to the will o' the wisp that is a "democratic" Iraq, it would be far more practical and feasible to focus on the more mundane but also more critical objective of assuring that Iraq no longer is a source of regional instability. Iraq, after all, is a country that has threatened its neighbors for decades, both before and after Saddam Hussein came to power. In 1948, led by King Faisal II, it contributed forces to the Arab attempt to drive the Jews of the newly created State of Israel into the sea. In 1967, a year before Saddam rose to power, it did so a second time, and again a third time in 1973. In 1961, under the leadership of President Abdul Karim Qassim, Iraq threatened to strangle at birth the newly created State of Kuwait. Thirty years later, still claiming that country as its nineteenth province, Saddam tried to do so again. And in 1980, seizing upon the turmoil in Iran, Saddam attacked that country as well, realizing an intention first articulated by Qassim when he was still Iraq's president. It would be no mean achievement if Iraq were, once and for all, to be transformed (to use a favorite Washington word) into a peaceful state that no longer poses a threat to its neighbors.

Moreover, it is equally important to assure that Iraq's neighbors will respect its territorial integrity; an invasion of Iraq by any of its neighbors could well spark a regional conflagration. To that end it is critical that Iraq remain a unitary state. Any indication that Kurdistan might seriously contemplate independence would almost certainly provoke a Turkish invasion. A fractured Iraq would also constitute an open invitation for even greater Iranian penetration of the Shi‘a south. How Iraq is organized within its borders is, however, far less important than making sure those borders remain intact.

It is, of course, desirable that Iraqis can benefit from the many freedoms available to citizens in the West. But what is desirable is not necessarily a justification for an ongoing American commitment to Iraq; only that which is necessary-an Iraq with stable borders that is finally at peace with its neighbors-can justify such a commitment. Such a commitment may take years to fulfill. Nevertheless, it is of a nature that Americans understand and accept-witness the more than fifty years that American forces have been deployed to Germany, Japan and Korea-and it is likely to require fewer troops than are currently deployed in Iraq, thereby making it even more palatable to ordinary Americans and their elected representatives.