The Commission's Real (and Feigned) Contribution

Whether the Democratic Convention this week in Boston will relegate the 9/11 Commission's report to the back pages will be determined by its use usefulness to Democrats in prime time speeches from the floor. If they can cite elements that are critical of Bush, we'll hear more about it; if not, it will fade from view (at least temporarily) more quickly than its brisk sales would indicate. (The Borders in Chestnut Hill, Pa., had sold out of the Report by Saturday morning.)

But the report's principal usefulness lies less in its contents and recommendations than its ability to stimulate discussion of 9/11 and its aftermath. I've written before that the primary sources for the report, chosen as they were by partisans from each side, weakens it as a historical document. It's a bit like a biography written from sources hand-picked by the subject or his heirs to ensure that the final picture is, if not flattering, at least not devastating.

Amir Taheri adds to the intelligent criticism of the report this morning in his New York Post op-ed: "Reading the 570-page 'The 9/11 Commission Report' is like going through a French nouveau-roman. It starts with the promise of uncovering an ingenious plot but offers nothing but re-heated platitudes served with a pseudo-philosophical garnish."

Taheri notes correctly that the Commission's goal of constructing an exhaustive report is premature, since only historians will do that in the years and decades to come. That's particularly true given the source-deprived nature of the Commission's resources. Historians and others will be writing about 9/11 for generations to come. Believing that it's possible to offer anything like a full and complete accounting of events at this stage is naive at best and cynical or manipulative at worst. Today we have neither the historical perspective that only time can bring nor the sources that must be made available for truly worthwhile scholarship to be possible.

Taheri argues persuasively that the political nature of the Commission hinders its ability to conceive of the problem -- terrorism -- correctly. Politicians in democracies compromise, of course, and that's for the good. It's better (on most issues) than war, which (people too often forget) is the real alternative to partisanship. If you and I can't duke it out via the political process, we might just resort to the, historically speaking, preferred means of reaching a settlement, which is to raise armies and kill one another.

But scholarship isn't like politics, or at least it shouldn't be when it's done with an eye on accuracy. The best public policy writers aren't out to score ephemeral political points; they're out to question received wisdom, probe sensitive areas, and recommend paths to an improved future. The implementation of those policies will, of course, require the art of politics to be practiced with all its twists, turns, nuances, and compromises. But that's work for the politicians, not for scholars. At this point, we need non-partisan historical work on the antecedants to 9/11 and the vision and courage to win this war.