"Captain Underpants" at the Pentagon

By PLS

Remember when you chanted this verse on the playground during recess?

I see London. I see France.
I see [insert name]’s underpants.

Well, kids still do. Scatology’s a big deal with first and second graders. They jeer and laugh until it hurts whenever they glimpse something that shouldn’t be seen—and poop would probably win a contest for funniest word in the dictionary.

Now, I’ve discovered, there is a series of “epic novels” guaranteed to turn reluctant young readers into book lovers, and the hero is.....Captain Underpants! He’s a bald, paunchy, blustery, mean principal by the name of Mr. Krupp, who transforms into a bald, paunchy, flying-through-the-air superhero who wears (only) baggy white briefs and a spiffy red bandana-cape. One of the really evil villains in the series is named–what else!--Professor Poopypants. Another threat to civilization as we know it is the Bionic Booger Boy.

Like everyone else, I’ve been trying to understand the torture-tolerant psychology of the Bush administration at war. Captain Underpants’s creator Dav Pilkey, unfortunately, has provided the key I’ve been looking for. The clincher came with the photos outing Saddam Hussein in his underwear, pix that may have been released covertly, as if they were being leaked.

Why should I suspect spooky stuff? Recall the officially-released photos of Saddam Hussein shortly after his capture–disheveled, unshaven, wild-eyed. These pictures were intended to prove not only that Saddam had been taken into custody but that the ex-strongman was merely human. Stripped of his well-pressed khakis, photographed in the act of having his teeth probed, the prisoner did indeed come across as a pretty pathetic specimen of humanity.

Insurgents exposed to such photos of their strong, handsome erstwhile leader would lose hope, our leaders predicted. The insurgency would peter out.

Even then some observers with no love for Hussein worried that undignified pictures might demean the propagandists more than the subject. Since honor and dignity are important to Muslims, they contended, the humiliated followers of Saddam would, most likely, be offended and far too angry to transfer their loyalties to Saddam’s humiliators. The Pentagon’s psychological warfare people evidently hadn’t thought of that.

The insurgency intensified.

Reason for cynicism #2: recall a Pentagon psy-ops proposal that was published last fall. The Pentagon would win Arab hearts and minds by concocting and releasing false negative information about leaders respected by the insurgents. Disillusioned fighters would lose the will to oppose American intentions. End of war.

The insurgency did not weaken.

Now we have photos of Saddam as an aging, out-of-shape figure wearing briefs–or, seated wearily, laundering them. Either way, not very macho.

Some Iraqis, predictably, are offended. Others are indifferent or inclined to think in terms of poetic justice.

Respect for Americans has not increased. The insurgency continues.

I’d almost like to believe that a poorly-commanded, bored late-adolescent with a seven-year-old’s crude sense of humor snapped and leaked those pictures, but not really. I don’t want an idiot like that with a gun in his/her hands. I don’t want a defender like that.

And don’t give me the boys-will-be-boys line. I brought up two sons, who are as disgusted as I am with such uncivilized behavior.

Reluctantly, I’m driven to this conclusion: a Bush administration leadership fixated at the poopy-pants level of development is (1) aping, (2) encouraging and/or (3) hiding behind ugly regressive behavior at the troop level. As usual, however, the politicos will find a way to exonerate themselves.

Thinking of the Rumsfeld Pentagon, I find myself envisioning a pack of little kids on the playground again. They never want to take responsibility for breaking windows, and they have a wobbly relationship with truth. They lie a lot. But lies don’t count, they grin, if they cross their fingers.

Here’s more of the pattern: the biggest bullies rule the playground. They strut. They taunt the little kids and make them cry. They kick and pinch and punch when no one’s looking. They enjoy giving pain. But when the teacher appears, they turn on the charm and say, “Who me?”

There’s a second verse to the I See London chant.

Are they yellow? Are they pink?

Oh my gosh, they really stink!

Something in Washington definitely stinks.