I know. Some other wordsmith has used this clever play on words. I just can’t remember where it appeared. That’s why it’s parenthetic. Anyway, the point being to describe the dilemma we call the Iraq War or, as Democrats say, "Bush’s War." Despite the military change of strategy—which even critics must admit has shown some success in reducing the damage and chaos created by al-Qaeda and jihadists in parts of that unruly place—some believe we have not been successful, and even question the existence of an Iraq. Others see some hope.

Columnist George Will, whose intellect and insight I respect, wrote before General David Patraeus’ report to Congress that "the surge has failed" because President Bush had recently visited a place in Iraq other than Baghdad, indicating that the capital city was still unsafe. This may have been a hasty judgment, but it made sense at the time.

Bush and his general had defined success as buying time for Iraqi leaders to reconcile the factions bearing old grudges and hatreds, writes Will. He believes there are two "sinister aspects" to all of this: "measuring sectarian violence is problematic," the violent ones ebb and flow as sects dissipate and consolidate, and alliances formed to reduce the violence are probably only temporary: when al-Qaeda is dispatched and the factions again confront each other as ancient enemies. Not a very encouraging assessment.

Mr. Will leaves us with two persistent, and perturbing, questions: "Is there an Iraq?" and "Are there Iraqis?" Good questions.

My dictionary defines Iraq as "A country of SW Asia; site of a number of flourishing ancient Mesopotamian civilizations and independent since 1921." One must wonder what has happened to these cultures to create so much incivility (yes, I know, Democrats say Bush caused it); and would they be better off today if they had remained dependent on some civil society? But those are scholarly questions suited to a more lengthy discussion.

Iraq, with a population of about 23 million in 2001, is a republic with a president. In 1995 its principal exports were mostly crude oil and petroleum products. Ethnically the country was about 77 percent Arab and 19 percent Kurd in 2003. They speak Iraqi, a modern dialect of Arabic. Their flag, adopted in 1963, reveals more about who these people might be.

According to Webster’s International Atlas it is "based on the liberation flag first flown in Egypt in 1952." Equal sized bands of red, white and black make up the rectangular background: red for the "willingness to shed blood," white is for purity and the black represents "past suffering." Three green (representing Arab lands) stars that "express a desire to unite with Egypt and Syria" appear in the white center. Inscribed in Arabic between the stars: "God is Great."

The Iraqi flag sums up the fundamental cultural elements that represent decades of chaos and conflict in the entire Arab world: tolerance for violence; harboring old grudges; intolerance of other cultures; frustration over lack of Arab unity; and Islamic zealotry. This standard carries a lot of negative images.

James Pinkerton—another clear-thinking, reasoned columnist—outlines a three-part narrative on the Iraq War as it has evolved thus far. He says that we can take pride in our military regardless the success with our "crusade for democracy." They did what was asked of them—and then some. The second part of the story is that "the Iraqis have let us down." I fall into the camp of those who think that if the Iraqis don’t stop their violently hateful activities, they don’t deserve our help anymore. But maybe we’re pushing them hard to be something they’re not.

Pinkerton’s third part of the story tells us that "Iraq is not a viable country." It was artificially constructed by "Anglo-Saddam absurdity." It’s not a unified country. Why not let it diversify into partitions best suited to the factions that occupy the land? Senator Joe Biden has suggested a three-part partition between Sunnis, Shiites and Kurds. But Biden probably wanted our government to establish additional arbitrary lines.

What we want is irrelevant (maybe even counterproductive) to stability in that foreign land. Those people must decide where they will live; and how. However, reasonable people know that before settlement and commerce can happen violence must be stopped.

Fouad Ajami, author of "The Foreigner’s Gift: The Americans, the Arabs, and the Iraqis in Iraq," wrote a fascinating opinion piece in the September 10 issue of The Wall Street Journal. He describes meeting the young, charismatic tribal leader, Sheikh Abu Reisha of Anbar, who with American forces drove the al-Qaeda and its Arab jihadists out. Later they assassinated him. Again our military leaders corrected course on the ground to achieve success. Abu Reisha recalled that "Our American friends had not understood us when they came, they were proud, stubborn people," but he added, "so were we." He said they "worked with opportunists," then, they "turned to the tribes." Apparently, our troops learned that the "tribes hate religious parties and religious fakers," words spoken by Abu Reisha as reported by Mr. Ajami. He has hope.

Just before Gen. Petraeus’ report Ajami made a concise and, presumably, honest assessment. "Peace has not come to Iraq, the feuds have not fully burned out, but the center holds," he wrote. The center of what, some of us aren’t too sure. But then, as Sheikh Abu Reisha said, the "Americans were slow to understand our sahwa, our awakening. But they have come around of late. The Americans are innocent; they don’t know Iraq."

True, but we are capable of learning and acting wisely—if only we had the patience of our Arabs friends, and foes.