It's as if his incapacity to concede that the Iraq war was a spectacular error of judgement was due to a subconsciously macho approach to humility.
Human nature is amazing. And one of our most amazing features is, in many cases, our absolute incapacity of admitting our wrong.
On Iraq, I can see why Tony Blair would sooner chuck an egg at Prescott's face than admit he fucked up. It's quite obvious why it's in his own interest not to concede an inch on what led to the war and its aftermath. And the same applies to his former subordinates in the Labour Cabinet.
What's puzzling, however, is the way "commentators" a-la David Aaronovitch or Nick Cohen are perversely keeping their blinkers on. Like kids sitting at the back of the classroom sulkingly announcing that, no, they didn't snatch their classmates' packed lunch, even if they were caught red handed.
It's almost as if their incapacity to concede that they made a huge error of judgement was due to a subconsciously macho approach to humility. Like a blow to their male ego. Which in turn, is transforming their pro-war devotion into a possessed hosepipe spraying bullshit at random.
Aaronovitch is no longer just advocating that the war was a good idea. His piece in yesterday's Times marked a shift in his pig-headedness: "We're seven years after Saddam" , he wrote and the debate has not "shifted a millimetre".
His target? The continuing boring criticism of the way Blair went about it, the dubious legality, the botched preparations, the bad planning, the non-WMDs, the lies. The £5bn (and counting) cost, the international instability, the 4.5 million orphans. In his view, it's just "the same stock phrases, the same conventional wisdoms that now pass from brain to lip without encountering thought along the way".
Not only that. Aaronovitch thinks we're actively enjoying all that. Each time the evening news announces another car bomb going off in Baghdad we're popping champagne bottles and grin with delight.
In his view, those who dare question The Good War do so because "they want [the war scars] to stay wounded — they enjoy their wounds".
And then, the icing on the cake, he laments the fact that no-one talks about the Iraqis anymore. "They have become ghosts", he grieves.
Funny choice of phrase, "ghosts". Because while he snipes at the pedantic "seven years of Shortism" and praises The Many Outstanding Benefits of The Good War, Aaronovitch himself fails to mention the war casualties once.
Like ghosts, exactly. Because whether the war resulted in 150,000, 600,000 or one million dead, according to Aaronovitch, we should just stop going on about them.