I know, I know. It’s Christmas Eve, can’t I for once give it rest? Can’t I just get with the season, quaff some eggnog, squeeze and shake a few gifts, put on Alvin and the Chipmunks and completely forget about Iraq for a week or so?
No. I can’t. Especially today. Just as the families and friends of the 3897 Americans in uniform who have died in Iraq can’t forget. Just as the families and friends of the other 307 “coalition” soldiers can’t forget. Just as the families and friends of the hundreds of thousands of Iraqis who have died because of the invasion can’t forget. Just as the families of all those Iraqis, British, Americans and others who have been maimed for life can never forget.
I could forgive. And that would be cause to shut up this Christmas Eve. Could forgive if there had been no choice except to invade Iraq and occupy it. Could forgive even if invading Iraq had resulted from a bad choice, say, a misjudgment made under stress. But neither of these was the case.