The good news comes from the standpoint of American democracy. George W. didn't, as many liberals feared, steal it. The Supreme Court didn't hand it to him, a much-rumored effort to intimidate minority voters doesn't seem to have panned out, and, indeed, participation reached a higher point than we've seen in recent memory. A president who assumed office in 2001 under dubious circumstances will now proceed with a proper mandate from the voters, albeit a small one.
The bad news is that the people have rendered a judgment showing that they've chosen to abandon the principle of accountability. Bush's decision to invade Iraq was the signature policy initiative of his first term. At the time the war began, most observers believed -- quite sensibly -- that in choosing to invade without the backing of the international community or a strong consensus at home, the president was taking an enormous political risk. If the war turned out well, and barring an economic catastrophe, he would almost certainly win re-election. If it turned out poorly, he would be in trouble.
The war has not turned out well, not only in my estimation but in that of the very electorate that chose to return Bush to office for a second term. According to exit polls, voters believed that things are not going well in Iraq by a margin of 53 percent to 42 percent. By a similar margin, voters said they didn't believe that the war has made the country safer. This skepticism of the administration's conduct of national-security policy is less than overwhelming. But in a country that is -- as we are constantly told -- polarized, it's a definitive verdict.
But to most voters, it just didn't matter that much. Earlier wartime elections -- 1968 and Vietnam, 1952 and Korea, 1944 and World War II, 1864 and the Civil War -- have hinged almost entirely on the progress of the war. When things were going well, the incumbent was returned to office. When things were going poorly, the incumbent was shown the door.
But this time around, things were different. Americans have become remarkably isolated from the rigors of war. There is no draft. Even those serving in combat are less physically threatened by the war than were soldiers of yesteryear. Technological improvements and professionalized training have allowed the U.S. military to rack up astounding kill ratios in every instance of combat in Iraq and Afghanistan. Improved battlefield medicine, meanwhile, has ensured that a much smaller proportion of wounded Americans wind up dying.
And, thanks to the principles of Bushian accounting, there has been no direct financial cost. (I was taught in economics class that a government can't provide guns and butter simultaneously, but Bush has delivered guns, butter, and tax cuts by, apparently, borrowing the cash from the Chinese Communist Party and passing the costs on to a younger generation.)
These factors have led to the re-election of a self-described "war president" whose war, in the voters' own assessment, is something of a failure. In this way, Bush has received a blank check: He can go forward secure in the knowledge that whether or not future ventures abroad work out well, his position -- and that of his designated successor -- is dependent on largely unrelated failures. This radically alters the political-risk assessment a leader must make before deciding what to do.
Thus, while many observers have hoped that the president's difficulties in Iraq would make him more hesitant about future military ventures, the outcome of the election may well have the reverse result. An administration -- and a society -- so insulated from the downside risks of war has little reason to avoid fighting them, whether or not they go well.
Matthew Yglesias is a Prospect staff writer.
