Like most international conflicts, the present situation in Iraq has spun off a domestic conflict around the language and metaphors we use to describe our situation and actions. This isn’t about a rational pursuit to describe things accurately; denotation has nothing to do with it. This is about the the semantic battleground for claiming connotations and the narratives they evoke. And what’s puzzled me lately is the tremendous amount of perceived negative baggage around the phrase “cut and run.” Where did that come from?
Now, forget whatever you might think about the present situation in Iraq and the relative merits of different American foreign policy options. Let’s just look at the “cut and run” narrative in general. I suppose what confounds me is that I read the word “cut” there as “cut your losses.” In short, I read it as a general statement of sound critical thinking. It’s avoiding the pitfall and wrongheaded general strategy of chasing after sunken costs. Cut and run is the welcome antithesis to the mistake of “throwing good money after bad.” So, again, when did “cut and run” get to be an inherently negative label? And, for that matter, when did “stay the course” ever survive so long without anyone flipping the connotation to be that of rigid inflexibility and dogma? Military commanders and politicians all cite terrorist networks’ ability to learn and quickly adapt as one of their key strengths, and yet learning and adapting is precisely what’s precluded by foreign policies grounded more in repetition than constant, considered change.
All this isn’t to say that we should immediately withdraw from Iraq. If you’re curious, my own take is that a sudden and complete withdrawal would be bad move, both strategically and ethically. But I do wish we could have a better national discourse around US options, one that didn’t jump to cast change itself as the greatest failing of all.

