President Bush's (son) war in Iraq (2003-2011) and now Trump's war have similarities. But to gain perspective, it will be interesting to examine their differences.
The justification. Bush's claim that Iraq possessed weapons of mass destruction was a lie. Many of us didn't believe it. The inspections had been so thorough that if they had had them, it would have been known. The war's instigators must have known. It was an excuse. The real motivation was more of a combination of three factors: the desire for revenge after the September 11 attacks—paradoxically directed at a regime that was certainly dictatorial, but secular; the Freudian compulsion of a son to achieve the regime change that his father (also president, and wiser) had refused to promote in the Gulf War (1990-91); and, as always, oil.
Now, in Iran, the official explanation carries more weight. One would have to be incredibly naive not to see the ayatollahs' desire to possess the atomic bomb. Or not to conclude that if they have it, they could use it against the State of Israel. I'm not saying there wasn't another way to avoid it, only that it's a more credible explanation than Saddam's weapons of mass destruction. This is also why the war with Iran has widespread support in Israel, in contrast to the one in Gaza. There are many of us in Israel and around the world who believe that there can be two states between the river and the sea, but that the right of the State of Israel to exist cannot be questioned. One can be—as I am—very critical of the actions of the Israeli government and be aware that the burden of blame falls on the government, not the state. The official motivation surely also has a more hidden component: again, oil, now connected—as in Venezuela—to a global strategy of limiting China.
The intention. The experience in Iraq ultimately inspired a radical shift in the Republican Party's foreign policy. During Bush's presidency—still reeling from the wave of democratization following the collapse of the USSR and the rhetoric of the end of history—the team in charge consisted of the neoconservatives. Their obsession was to bring about regime change. They did it in Iraq, where they dissolved Saddam's army and implemented a democratic constitution. The US had done it in Japan, and it worked out well. But in Iraq, it was nowhere near successful: government control by the Shiite majority, influenced by Iran; civil war; resistance to employment, etc. Add the disaster of the Arab Spring, and you'll understand why a presidency not naturally inclined to value democracy has become, having outgrown a naive phase during which it preached isolationism, interventionist in the world. But not with the intention of changing regimes, but rather to exert control through threats and force rulers to pay tribute in order to control the population. They've done it in Venezuela, and I believe that's what they want to do in Iran. The threat of regime change is the kind of threat they hope they won't have to carry out. Too costly. We still don't know how this war will end. If, as in Iraq, a prolonged period of chaos ensues, we will judge Trump's decision to go to war without careful postwar preparation as highly negative. But if the situation stabilizes, avoiding chaos and maintaining a degree of civil liberties—and ideally under a democratic regime—it would be unwise to miss the barbaric rule of the ayatollahs.
The Spanish reaction. Let's be blunt: she's been wrong both times. Aznar's move in the Azores is a mortal sin. Sánchez's could still end up being a venial sin. Let's hope so. Curiously, the nature of the error has been the same in both cases: a firm break—then by aligning with the US, now by distancing themselves—from the Franco-German consensus on important foreign policy issues. Disagreement is acceptable, but blocking the use of the bases is a serious matter. If Germany and Spain have American bases, the rules governing their use shouldn't be very different. If we ask the US to help us defend Ukraine more than they would like, it seems reasonable to reciprocate. Although the EU doesn't have direct authority over foreign policy, the Union will suffer if member states take unilateral actions that end up jeopardizing the common project. And if Trump has turned external tariffs into a political tool and, until now, surprisingly, had respected European trade unity (US tariffs are the same for all EU member states), we shouldn't put the EU in the position of having to defend this principle because of a unilateral action by Spain. And let's not fool ourselves: if they've done it, it's to defend the principle, not out of solidarity with Spain.
