IN his remarks at the Pentagon yesterday, President Bush stressed two things: The troop surge - which still isn't complete - must be given a chance, and the Democrats need to knock off the shenanigans and vote our troops the funding they need to fight.

On the second count, Congress is behaving disgracefully. Guess I'm a slow learner, but it took me until now to realize that when Pelosi, Reid & Co. chant "Support Our Troops!" they're talking about the enemy.

As for the president's first point, he's entirely right. With a fourth combat brigade just arriving and a fifth still on the way, Gen. David Petraeus doesn't yet have all the resources he's been promised. He's only got three wheels on the car and the critics are howling for him to hit the gas.

Frankly, this surge is a desperate measure after four years of blunders and dithering. It may prove too small and too late. But the stakes are so high that, despite the inevitable cost in American blood, this last gambit is worth the effort.

And it is the last gambit. If the troop surge fails, we'll start striking the tents.

Gen. Petraeus is well aware of all this. (I can't help feeling he winced when the president referred to this made-in-Washington strategy as "Gen. Petraeus' plan.") If any four-star general on active duty can make it work, it's him.

Unfortunately, that's faint praise. The Army hasn't fielded a four-star with the breadth of vision to wage war at the strategic level and the killer instinct to win on the battlefield since Gen. Barry McCaffrey retired a dozen years ago.

As the generals who led infantry platoons and companies in Vietnam fade from the ranks, we face an incongruous situation in which our lieutenants, captains and majors are combat veterans, while the generals above them never fought in a direct-fire engagement or led daily patrols through Indian country.
Junior officers now have a better grasp of what war means than Army generals do. Platoon leaders want to win. The generals want to make people happy.

For two generations, we've trained military leaders to be statesmen in uniform, downplaying pugnacity and guts. We sent promising officers for Ivy League doctorates (thereby cutting off at least one of their . . . um . . . eggs), stressed political assignments, and inducted them into the Washington-insider cult of Salvation Through Negotiations.

Now we have bobble-head generals who nod along with the diplomats who want to hold their Versailles Conference before winning the war.

It's past time for our senior leaders to jettison the political correctness and fight to win. But they honestly don't know how anymore. They've been so thoroughly drugged with failed academic theories about counterinsurgency-with-lollipops that they're more concerned with
avoiding embarrassments than with killing the enemy.

The bitter truth is that, in the type of conflicts we now face,
we must be willing to fight as ruthlessly and savagely as our opponents. We have to play by their moral rules. Stay-at-homes who never served will howl in indignation, but the alternative is defeat.

And is it ever more virtuous to lose to fanatics with apocalyptic visions than to win?

The standard response from the campus commandos is that, if we descend to the level of our enemy's behavior,
we'll become as bad as them. That's crap. In World War II, we didn't exactly coddle the residents of Hamburg and Dresden, Tokyo and Hiroshima.

American soldiers can do what must be done without losing their virtues as citizens (most critics don't even know any soldiers personally).

The greater dangers may be that we've already sacrificed what hope there was for Iraq by waging war to please CNN and the pundits, and that we just don't have the numbers to make the surge work now.

We should all pray that this last-ditch effort succeeds. But we're paying for a decade-and-a-half of gutting our armed forces and sacrificing troop strength to pour money into the pockets of unscrupulous - and well-connected - defense contractors. Now soldiers die in sewage-flooded alleys while the billion-dollar bombers sit and rot.

And we're paying for ending the draft - not because the military wants it (it doesn't), but because we now have two generations of political leaders who don't have a clue what it takes to win a war. Not only haven't they served in uniform, they disdain those who enlist. (Think many soldiers get $400 haircuts like John Edwards?)

If anything, military service disqualifies you from having a voice on wartime strategy in Washington. In a closed-door session with one of our last great legislators and a fellow military analyst, I was asked if I thought the "oil stain" strategy - the concept behind the current surge - could save Iraq. My answer was, "Yes, if you can put a half-million troops on the ground."

That was almost two years ago, before the situation had deteriorated so badly.

Gen. Petraeus may pull this off - if the let's-take-a-long-vacation Iraqis can get their act together. Should he do so, he'll deserve a place in the history books as one of the all-time greatest military turn-around artists: By historical standards, he'll have less than a third of the troops he needs, even after the surge is complete.

Whatever happens in Iraq, the core lesson isn't that such conflicts can't be won - that's nonsense - but that you can't win if you're more concerned about placating your critics than about defeating the enemy.

Our troops know how to fight. Their leaders don't.

An extraordinary thing happened in Afghanistan two weeks ago--and the West failed to notice. The American and Afghan governments collaborated to create an agricultural trade fair in the capital city of Kabul. The two-day event was much like the annual fairs in many U.S. states--except it was far more significant and significantly more important.

An estimated 50,000 visitors attended. Fully 30% were women, few of whom were covered by traditional veils. Thousands of families came. There was music--loud and boisterous at times, and modern. Teens clapped wildly and tried to reach the stage. There was dancing and singing. A children's circus performed, boys and girls together. Huge amounts of food and cold drinks were consumed. Ice cream was everywhere. Kids squealed with delight. Local TV and radio captured every minute. The spirit present had been unfelt for two generations. It was simply fun. Afghanistan was happy those two days. Somehow it became a joyous national breakout party.

National Pride

Business happened too. "We sold every piece of equipment we brought and made connections for additional work." said one of 180 exhibitors. Potential investors found opportunities: "It was great for business in Afghanistan" observed one. Farmers from all over the country witnessed demonstrations of new and better practices and of modern equipment. One of the farmers said of the fair: "It is as if a blind man enters and gets his sight." Giant tractors performed. Efficient irrigation was shown, products and processing displayed, services advertised, connections made, clients identified, buying and selling done, markets found.

Afghanistan also was proud these two days. "I haven't seen a fair like this before. I feel happy as I walk and see Afhgan products. Next time I will have a display myself," said a local businessman.

And as anywhere else, commercial interests followed potential business. Fair sponsors included Coca-Cola, Afghan Wireless, Kabul Bank, Crystal Water, Alokozay Tea, two leading hotels, and the most popular Afghan television network.

Doing the impossible

Stunning is an apt description of what took place here two weeks ago. Remember, this is the Afghanistan that was nearly annihilated by 35 years of bitter, bloody, cruel warfare.

But there is more. The fair itself was conceived, planned, built, and implemented in less than three months. To do this in any country would have been a major challenge. In Afghanistan it should have been impossible. But it happened, and it now serves to demonstrate that important things can be done here and can be done quickly. This is already changing perceptions and helping to change a pervasive fatalistic view of the future. Change can be made here. We just saw it happen.

Already demand has surfaced for events like this fair in other parts of the country. And now that the ground has been broken, that will happen. A new confidence and optimism emanated from this fair along with commercial and business transactions. Large public, productive, and pleasant events can take place in Afghanistan without stifling precautions and overbearing concerns for safety--we now have demonstrated that. One farmer observed: "Security is not the problem in Afghanistan, the economy is." Surprisingly, the fair proved to be a long stride toward social reform as well as an impact on agriculture development. At this time and in this country, that perhaps is the most enduring by-product of this remarkable event.

Most unnerving to the security agencies here but to the delight of the population, the fair was launched the night before by a fireworks display in the hills above the city. Imagine--in this of all countries! Bombs, rockets, explosions, and fire all aimed at pleasure and not at people. The symbolism of this for the citizens of this capital was breathtaking.

Ignored by U.S. Media

But, unless you had read this article, you would know nothinig about these singular events. Yet they are more significant than a roadside explosion or a suicide bomber or a lunatic beheading some perceived enemy. Those depravities take place infrequently and among seriously disturbed tail-enders still mired in the 13th century. The facts of and the dynamics around this event puts a more accurate face on the new Afghanistan.

The fact that events of such magnitude and meaning are less interesting to our media than death, destruction and despair means that Americans never will understand fully what is happening in Afghanistan, the potential existing here and the progress being made every day. The successful occurence of this massive agriculture fair and its continuing impact is a remarkable story of change in Afghanistan. But Americans are unlikely to hear it since it won't sell advertising time. At least you heard it here. This article was written by an American economic development expert living and working in Afghanistan.