Comparing the current conflict in Iraq to the Vietnam War has been, since the war's outset in 2003, a simplistic, weak argument against American intervention in Mesopotamia. The dissimilarities are too abundant, and the bloodshed hasn't been even close to comparable.
Still, the scar of Vietnam on the psyche of our parents' generation complicates military politics and limits presidential use of military force to this day.
This may be an unexpected boon of Vietnam's legacy.
Whether we like it or not, we're stuck in Iraq, and as more American soldiers die every day and the Iraqi security forces seem no closer to independent competence, the end seems impossibly far away.
Sound like 1967? Curious similarities abound. In recent weeks, numerous retired senior military officers - all of them highly decorated - have called for the resignation of Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld.
Outraged by the bungling of the Iraq War and the mayhem it has wreaked on the strength of the American military, the generals blame Rumsfeld's disregard of the military's advice for the quagmire that is Iraq today.
This not-unfamiliar situation harkens back to mid-Vietnam, when the Johnson Administration and the military establishment were at each others' throats over the inept handling of that war, and then-Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara found himself caught in the middle.
McNamara ultimately left the Department of Defense because of popular indignation, but history is unclear as to whether he was forced to resign by Johnson or whether he quit on his own shameful accord.
In terms of American casualties, Iraq is a far cry from the blood spilled in Vietnam. But it's also a different kind of war: Today our military prowess is based on our technological superiority, not simply napalm and overwhelming numbers.
Lower troop levels and thus fewer casualties are to be expected. When McNamara resigned in early 1968, about 20,000 of our soldiers had been lost in Vietnam; fewer than 3,000 troops have died in Iraq.
Oddly, public support for the Vietnam War was still in the low 40s when McNamara left office, whereas support for Iraq today hovers around the mid-30s. McNamara was certainly the more divisive figure, as it was clear even then that he was the mastermind behind the entire U.S. strategy in Indochina.
Neither Rumsfeld nor anyone in the administration save Karl Rove could be considered a mastermind at anything besides spin, but Rummy's apparent disregard for the experience of his military advisors is manifesting itself today in a mess of an occupation and an embattled military leadership.
As Lieutenant General Gregory Newbold told Time magazine, "the commitment of our forces to this fight was done with a casualness and swagger that are the special province of those who have never had to execute these missions - or bury the results."
Major General John Batiste, former commander of the First Infantry Division in Iraq, agreed in the pages of the Washington Post: "I think we need a fresh start. We need leadership up there [in Washington] that respects the military as they expect the military to respect them. And that leadership needs to understand teamwork."
Rummy's never been one to defer policy decisions to the military, and it seems that his stubbornness is finally catching up with him. Whether he recovers from this public flogging is still to be seen, but it's clear that the military has lost faith in its immediate civilian boss.
As is to be expected, active officers are highly reluctant to criticize Rumsfeld or even enter the public discussion. The New York Times reported on Apr. 14 that "some of the currently serving officers said they feared the debate risked politicizing the military and undercutting its professional ethos."
But the military's professional ethos has already been compromised by poor, bureaucratized war planning that has weakened the military and America itself. The Secretary of Defense is charged with ensuring the safety of the American people, and to that end, Rumsfeld has done a severely inadequate job.
Iraq is not Vietnam...yet. But if the administration hopes to salvage its foreign policy legacy, it could start by making sure that the highest defense official in the land knows what he's doing. Bush gambled and lost on Rummy. It's time to discard him.
