Chapter 7

The discussion had started innocuously enough. The graduate level seminar was History of US Foreign Intervention from Viet Nam to Afghanistan. It mainly dealt with the clash of worldviews. But twenty minutes in, it had devolved into exactly the kind of naive conversation that made Jason’s stomach clench.

“I mean, at the end of the day,” said Trevor, a confident twenty-four-year-old whose father worked at the State Department, “democracy is a universal human value. People everywhere want freedom and self-determination. The problem in Iraq wasn’t about our ideals—it was about how we executed them.”

A few heads nodded around the table. Jason’s pen had stopped moving.

“The Iraqis just needed time to understand democratic institutions,” Trevor continued. “You can’t expect people who’ve lived under dictatorship to immediately grasp complex political processes. They’re ignorant, but given education and support—”

“Stop.” Jason’s voice cut across the room like a blade. “Just ... stop right there.”

Professor O’Hara, who had been moderating, raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Stone, do you have a different perspective?”

“I have twelve years of perspective,” Jason said, closing his notebook. “And Trevor just said about six things that got a lot of people killed.”

The room went quiet. Trevor’s face flushed. “I’m not sure what you mean—”

“You said democracy is a universal human value. Based on what?” Jason’s voice was controlled, but there was steel underneath. “Because I spent two years living with the Kurds in northern Iraq, and let me tell you what they value: family, tribe, religious obligation, honor, and raising their kids. Western-style democracy is not on the list.”

He leaned forward. “You said they needed education about democratic institutions. Here’s what you don’t understand—these people have been governing themselves for thousands of years. They have systems, traditions, and ways of resolving disputes and allocating resources that work for them. They don’t need us to teach them about politics.”