Perceptions: Sorting Out the Mixed Signals

By WILLIAM A. HENRY III

By any objective standard, the gulf war has gone well and the outcome seems about as assured as anything can be in an uncertain world. Why, then, do so many Americans (and, seemingly, citizens of other coalition countries) have a vague feeling of unease, if not outright disillusionment, that the fighting seems nowhere near a conclusion? After great expectations of a relatively easy victory, the U.S. public has settled into a more realistic, in some cases too pessimistic, view of what is to come. The initial uncontested air raids and gee-whiz video glimpses of bombing turned out to be less decisive than they seemed in the first flush of euphoria, and the dream of immediate surrender has deteriorated into occasional fears that nothing will crack Saddam Hussein's will.

Although polls released last week show an increase to about half in the number of respondents who expect combat to last six months or more -- considerably longer than White House and Pentagon officials predict -- about four-fifths of those polled continue to support the war. That is much more upbeat than in France, where a Paris Match/B.V.A. poll last week showed that 70% of respondents feared degeneration into a third world war. But the hint of U.S. pessimism underscored a widespread feeling that the American people had been misled, or perhaps been encouraged to mislead themselves, about how hard it would be to dislodge Iraqis from Kuwait.

The people who might logically be charged with evoking this excess cheer -- the military, the Bush Administration and Congress, foreign leaders and the news media -- are quick to point out that they voiced caution before the confrontation and again even during the elation of its first days. Yet many of these same people also aired speculative scenarios that were much more optimistic. They veered between ebullient optimism and tight-lipped restraint as they tried to sustain public support and coalition unity, and keep pressure on Saddam, without building up unreasonable hopes. Not surprisingly, much of the public chose to hear and believe the ebullience more than the restraint.

It is only human nature to wish for the best, to recoil from the prospect of massive cost and suffering. In this instance, optimism was further fueled by vivid memories of the two-month war in the Falklands, the nine-day conquest of Grenada and the 14-day ousting of Manuel Noriega as dictator of Panama. While repeatedly reminding audiences that Iraq is a better entrenched and more highly armed opponent than the loser in any of those conflicts, President Bush also recurrently promised that any battle against Iraq would in no way resemble the "protracted, drawn-out war" in Vietnam. On Jan. 16, the day battle began, Bush said, "I'm hopeful that this fighting will not go on for long and that casualties will be held to an absolute minimum." His words were carefully crafted to be bolstering yet noncommittal. But one could hardly blame the public for taking them, even in the context of his other cautions, as a virtual pledge of a short war.

Nor was Bush alone in such forthright optimism. Senators Daniel Inouye of Hawaii and Ted Stevens of Alaska returned from the gulf in December and said they had been told by military officials that a war with Iraq could be completed in five days. Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak said Saddam's expectation of victory showed he was "living in another world," and predicted his troops would yield within three or four weeks. While few others were daring (or imprudent) enough to offer a precise timetable, many military and civilian officials described the potential conflict as lopsided and brief. British Defense Minister Tom King told the House of Commons in December, "It will be short, sharp and quick, and the casualties on the allied side will be kept to a minimum."

The word quick can mean vastly different things, however, as Representative Barbara Boxer of suburban San Francisco indicated in January during the course of the House floor debate against the war. Although she argued that any amount of combat would impose too steep a price, she conceded to colleagues, "We will win this war -- quickly! Maybe two weeks, maybe two months -- that's quick. Maybe at most six months -- that's quick, I guess." There is, alas, a huge difference between two weeks and six months in money spent, suffering inflicted and lives lost.

The news media have dutifully reported both optimistic and pessimistic assessments over the months but have shown a readier appetite for in-your-face remarks than cautions. That was certainly the experience of retired Admiral William Crowe, former Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Appearing on ABC's This Week with David Brinkley last August, Crowe predicted, "In a major clash, we'll clean their clocks. If not today, later." He added that both sides would pay a terrible price. His words were quoted (sometimes misquoted) around the world, often with the warning omitted.

There are pragmatic reasons why journalists may, at least subconsciously, have erred on the side of enthusiasm. They want cooperation from military officials, without which any war on this difficult terrain would be almost impossible to cover. And they are eager not to be accused of being so skeptical that they are unpatriotic -- a charge that was widely leveled during Vietnam, arose in Grenada and Panama and is surfacing again.

Even with the purest motives, the media have been led astray by an irreconcilable variety of expert opinion. Stories based on Air Force sources have tended to be more upbeat about what air strikes alone could accomplish; stories based on Army sources have naturally tended to emphasize the importance of ground troops. From mid-August to mid-January, best-case scenarios abounded of a two-week air war, with U.S. dead no more than a few hundred. They were offered by White House, Pentagon and Congressional officials, who sought to buoy public support yet not make it so contingent on optimism that it could evanesce. Although these scenarios were usually characterized as the happiest rather than the likeliest, they were widely reported and believed by news consumers seeking reassurance.

Once battle began, confusion was compounded by the use of such terms as air supremacy and precision bombing, which mean something particular to military officers but carry more sweeping implications for the untutored listener. The peculiar physical circumstances of the war, which so far have afforded reporters few direct opportunities to witness the air battle or determine the impact on Iraq's forces, further fueled the optimism. The military has controlled much of the information flow -- and has understandably stressed its achievements.

Defense Secretary Dick Cheney warned, at the end of the first week of battle, that "a military operation of this intensity and complexity cannot be scored every evening like a college track meet or a basketball tournament." Yet the Pentagon went on releasing, and the media went on using, comparative statistics that did resemble scores, accompanied by bombing footage that often called to mind a Nintendo video game in which the U.S. team was skunking the opposition. It has often been said that sport is the modern lightning rod for the tribal loyalties once stirred by war. If so, it may not be surprising that war should be covered like sport, with tub-thumping emphasis on how one- sidedly the home team will win. But sports fans crave the illusion of a guaranteed future. In war, misguided optimism can be as dangerous as any other stray missile.

With reporting by Dan Goodgame/Washington, with other bureaus