I’m writing this during the four days at the start of July. On the Fourth, we celebrate the signing of the Declaration of Independence, arguably the most important political event of the 18th century in America. But the first four days of July are also the anniversary of the most important events of the 19th: the battles that marked the high tide of the Confederacy and tested whether “any nation so conceived and so dedicated can long endure.” If the South had prevailed at Gettysburg, our history would have been far different; that it didn’t was the result of dozens of unforeseeable events, as well as of geography, personalities, and pure heroism. The day after General Pickett’s spectacular and tragic charge that decided the battle, General Grant reported from the West the fall of the besieged city of Vicksburg, on the Mississippi. This is the week to fly our flag and reflect upon what we have done together, upon who we have been, and who we are today.

Now, as then, we’re engaged in a war – two wars, actually, one winding down and the other stretching out behind and before to a fuzzy and, most likely, unsatisfactory conclusion. Now, as then, many different constituencies – military, political, diplomatic, patriotic, journalistic, and others – have offered at length their various opinions and assessments on the situation. I’ve listened to as many of them as possible, and read as much as I’ve been able to in the time available; and I’ve pretty much decided that the real wisdom regarding the future of Afghanistan may lie in those of us without, as they say, any dog in the fight or axes to grind. The recent forced resignation of General McChrystal has given us a briefly open window through which to get a fresh look at the conflict, in both Afghanistan and in our own government.

I learned long ago that a person with a chest full of campaign ribbons, or a dark suit, or a clergyman’s gown, or a really colorful raiment he wears at commencement exercises isn’t necessarily wise. Experienced, perhaps, but probably inclined toward a reflexive response to situations – like the proverbial carpenter to whom every problem is a nail and the invariable solution a hammer. The Vietnam War and General Westmoreland’s perfidy in an attempt to please his political bosses should have taught us that. None of the dire predictions of those who led us into that war have come to fruition. As an old friend of mine once said, “The only thing of lasting value I learned at Oxford was the ability to tell when another person was talking rot.” Many of the people we are taking seriously at the present time may in fact be doing just that. Not intentionally or dishonestly, perhaps, but with no more wisdom than the carpenter.

This is not to denigrate or devalue in any way the sacrifice and hard work of our young men and women in harm’s way. They’re between the rock of the need to get the “bad guys” and the hard place of restrictive rules of engagement, and they’re paying a heavy toll. But this is to suggest that those who use the rallying cry, “Support our troops!” as a cudgel for those expressing second thoughts aren’t thinking through where we’re going with all this.

Oliver North, for example, in his column for Fox News, extols General McChrystal as “a tough, combat-experienced officer who knows how to fight. He knows how to kill the enemy.” He goes on to criticize the President – not without some justification – for “decision deficit disorder” and concludes, “Rolling Stone looked for and found troops who were unhappy with the ROE [Rules of Engagement] to support the magazine's contention that the war in Afghanistan is ‘unwinnable.’ That refrain is increasingly prevalent because President Obama refuses to use the words ‘win’ or ‘victory.’”

That may be because the President understands that “victory,” which can be defined in many different ways, may not be possible. Afghanistan has been for thousands of years the crossroads of Asia, but a sovereign country for only several decades. Its culture is tribal and fractured, and its central government, such as it is, corrupt. Neither of these features is about to change. Afghanistan’s major export is opium, its most important customer the United States. That also probably won’t change. In our effort to export democracy, we lose sight of the fact that many powerless people think democracy means getting the government they want; whereas the truth is that they may not get the government they want – at least until the next election.

If there’s any hopeful sign at all for Afghanistan, it’s not in improved strategies for winning the hearts and minds of people living under the threat of faceless, death-dealing drones. It’s rather in an article in the July 5 New Yorker describing the growing presence of popular media, especially television. Fazel Ahmad Manawi, a former Afghan Supreme Court justice, says, “If the Taliban came back to power, they could not ban television.” Whatever we may think of the media, they may in the end prove more powerful than all the wrecked armor and spent cartridges we will eventually leave behind. The beleaguered gentleman sitting in the Oval Office can’t say so until after the next election cycle for fear of patriotic outrage, but this is a beehive we had best quit poking. To paraphrase the Bard, nothing we do in Afghanistan may become us like our leaving it.