When Even the 'Hawks' Turn Their Backs: The Collapse of American War Consensus and Lessons for the Vietnamese-American Community

Robert Kagan — one of the leading intellectual architects of American neoconservatism, a vocal supporter of the 2003 Iraq invasion — has just admitted that Islamic terrorism targeting the United States is a consequence rather than a cause of American military intervention in the Middle East. This is not merely a personal turning point. It signals that even the most hawkish elite circles of Washington are losing faith in the doctrine they have built over three decades.

Kagan and the Belated Admission

To grasp the significance of this statement, one must place it in context: Robert Kagan is no ordinary commentator. Together with William Kristol, he co-founded the Project for the New American Century (PNAC) — an organization in the late 1990s that aggressively lobbied for the overthrow of Saddam Hussein, viewing it as a strategic move to reshape the Middle East according to Western democratic models. After the September 11, 2001 attacks, PNAC became the intellectual engine behind the Bush Doctrine, justifying preemptive wars in the name of national security.

Kagan once wrote that the Iraq invasion would create a "seismic impact on the Arab world — in a positive direction." Now, that same Kagan acknowledges that "if the U.S. had not continuously and deeply intervened in the Islamic world since the 1940s, Islamic fighters would have scarcely cared about attacking" the United States.

Notably, Kagan is not shifting toward an anti-war position. According to Owen Jones's analysis in The Guardian, this admission appears in a longer essay where Kagan laments the Iran war as a strategic disaster — not because it causes suffering to Iranians, but because it weakens the Western alliance and advantages Russia and China. In other words, Kagan remains committed to American hegemony; he is merely lamenting that hegemony's decline.

This is a familiar pattern among Washington's elite: admitting mistakes without ever truly accepting responsibility. Hillary Clinton said in 2007 that "knowing what I know now, I would never have voted to authorize" the Iraq War — yet she did vote for it. Barack Obama called Libya a "worst mistake" — but he ordered the intervention. Commentator Andrew Sullivan even wrote an entire book titled I Was Wrong — but "wrong" here is presented as an intellectually compelling journey rather than a moral failure resulting in hundreds of thousands of deaths.

Track Record of American Wars in the Middle East

The most striking figure in the table above is not the cost or the casualties — though both are horrific. It is the final column. According to polling data from Gallup and Pew Research, the Iran war marks the first time in modern American history that a major military intervention fails to achieve majority public consensus from its inception. This reflects a profound shift in American psychology — accumulated war fatigue over more than two decades.

Who Still Supports War — and Why It Matters

If Kagan represents the wavering hawk faction, a stubbornly committed group persists. Owen Jones points to Tony Blair — who, after the Iraq disaster, still declares that Britain "should have backed the U.S. from the start" in the Iran war. Douglas Murray continues writing pieces titled "We Must Crush Iran Now.

This reveals that the Western elite is not a monolithic bloc. It can be divided into at least three groups:

• Group 1: Remorseful Hawks — like Kagan, Clinton, Obama. They acknowledge mistakes but frame their analysis around American strategic interests, not human rights or international ethics. This "remorse" is instrumental: wars fail because they are ineffective, not because they are inherently wrong.
• Group 2: Unrepentant Hawks — like Blair, Murray, and previously Charles Krauthammer. They view every failure as poor execution, not faulty premises. "If we had stayed longer," "if we had used enough force" — these are familiar justifications.

Group 3: Anti-War Voices Pushed to the Margins — like Susan Sontag, Noam Chomsky, and millions of Iraq War protesters in 2003. Shortly after September 11, 2001, Sontag wrote that the attacks were "a consequence of certain American alliances and actions" — nearly verbatim what Kagan said two decades later. Sontag was viciously attacked, called a traitor. Krauthammer — who denounced Sontag — remained a prominent TV commentator, bestselling author, and Washington Post columnist until his death in 2018.

There are no consequences for being persistently wrong about the most vital questions. This is the core lesson Owen Jones wishes to emphasize, and it is systemic rather than personal.

The Vietnamese-American Perspective: War Is Never Abstract

For the Vietnamese-American community — particularly the first generation that lived through the Vietnam War and the 1975 evacuation — the collapse of the foreign intervention consensus in Washington carries a distinct resonance.

The Vietnamese community in America, concentrated in Orange County (California), Houston (Texas), and the San Jose Bay Area, has for decades leaned heavily toward the Republican Party — largely because of memories of anti-communist struggle and disappointment with America's withdrawal decision. This psychology creates a paradox: many older Vietnamese-Americans support Washington's hawkish positions in the Middle East, viewing them as expressions of American strength that they wish to see — strength they felt America lacked when it "abandoned" Saigon.

But the second and third generations are shifting. According to a 2024 AAPI Data survey, Vietnamese-Americans under 40 are increasingly skeptical of military intervention, reflecting broader trends among younger American voters. The Iran war — with its enormous economic costs amid inflation, and questions about who must serve in the military — is accelerating this shift.

There is another, more tangible dimension: war costs directly affect the federal budget, and thus the welfare programs, education, and healthcare that many Vietnamese-American families depend on. According to Brown University's Watson Institute, the total cost of post-September 11, 2001 wars has exceeded 8 trillion dollars. Every dollar spent on bombs in the Middle East is a dollar not spent on infrastructure, small business subsidies, or refugee assistance — areas directly affecting the Vietnamese-American community.

Simultaneously, Middle East instability drives oil price fluctuations, affecting operating costs for thousands of small businesses run by Vietnamese entrepreneurs — from nail salons in Little Saigon to restaurants in Houston. War is never merely foreign policy; it is about bread, clothing, rice, and money.

Systemic Lessons: Why No One Pays the Price

Jones's analysis touches on a deeper structural issue: the American media and political system lacks accountability mechanisms for mistaken war decisions.

Krauthammer once warned that if weapons of mass destruction were not found in Iraq, "we'll have a credibility problem." The weapons were never found. The credibility problem never truly materialized — at least not for the elite. Krauthammer enjoyed a brilliant career. The architects of the Iraq War — Paul Wolfowitz, Douglas Feith, John Bolton — continued to hold positions of power or influence in Washington's policy circles.

This contrasts sharply with how the system treats war dissenters. Chelsea Manning was imprisoned for 7 years for releasing documents showing war crimes in Iraq. Daniel Ellsberg was prosecuted for publishing the Pentagon Papers about the Vietnam War. Those who tell the truth are punished; those who lie are rewarded.

This is not uniquely American. It reflects a broader pattern: in Western political systems, the political cost of "appearing weak" against security threats always exceeds the cost of supporting a catastrophic war. The result is a systemic bias tilted toward military action.

The Iran War and the Final Rupture

The Iran war — mentioned in the original article as an ongoing event — marks a turning point for several reasons.

First, this is the first time even the neocons themselves are divided. Kagan — one of the most influential voices of this school — publicly calls it a "strategic disaster." This differs fundamentally from Iraq, when the neoconservative establishment was nearly unanimous in support.

Second, the war unfolds amid an America that has experienced Donald Trump, profound political polarization, and the threat of domestic fascism — factors that Kagan considers higher priorities than any threat from the Middle East. When the greatest enemy is no longer beyond the border but within the nation itself, the logic of military intervention loses its fundamental persuasiveness.

Third, the war weakens America's position against China — the strategic rival Washington considers the defining challenge of the 21st century. Every resource poured into the Middle East is a resource not poured into the Indo-Pacific. For regional nations like Vietnam, the Philippines, and Japan — countries that depend on American military presence to balance Beijing — this is an alarming signal.

Consequences for Southeast Asia and Vietnam

America's war exhaustion has direct consequences for the balance of power in the South China Sea. If Washington remains bogged down in the Middle East, American deterrent capability in the Indo-Pacific region will diminish — something Beijing understands clearly and may exploit.

Vietnam — pursuing a "four nos" diplomatic strategy (no military alliances, no foreign bases, not using one country against another, not using force or threats of force) — may feel pressure to adjust its strategic calculations if American commitment to Asia becomes less credible.

For Vietnamese-Americans concerned with regional security, this shift raises uncomfortable questions: does the America they live in still possess the will and resources to play a balancing role in Asia, when both the public and the elite are increasingly exhausted by military intervention anywhere?

Why Intellectual Accountability Still Matters

Jones concludes with an important argument: Kagan's admission is necessary but insufficient. Kagan acknowledges he was wrong, but does not explain why he once believed what he now rejects. Without this analysis, there is no genuine learning. And without learning, the cycle repeats.

This is a keen observation. The history of American military intervention reveals a recurring pattern: initial optimism → quagmire → admission of failure → forgetfulness → the next war. From Vietnam to Iraq to Afghanistan to Libya to Iran, the intervals between cycles shorten, but institutional lessons are never truly internalized.

Vietnamese-Americans, with their collective memory of the Vietnam War and the fall of Saigon, perhaps understand this more deeply than most. They have lived through the consequences of "strategic optimism" — when Washington believed military power could remake a nation in its image. The result was 58,000 American soldiers dead, millions of Vietnamese dead, and a diaspora community scattered across the world.

Now, that same logic is admitting defeat in the Middle East. The question is: this time, who will be left behind?