The historian Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr., who died last night at the age of 89, wrote a piece that appeared in the Financial Times on September 29, 2005 that demonstrates how much he'll be missed:

"The president of the United States is calling," the operator said. Then, a vibrant Texas voice broke in, "Hey, Artie, how goes it?" This confirmed that the caller was indeed Mr. Bush, whom I have never met but whose predilection for nicknames—no one in 87 years has ever called me "Artie"—is well known. "I am holding conversations about the Iraq War," the president continued. "And I would like to know what you think I should be doing."

"I would seize an appropriate moment to declare victory—and cut and run, Mr. President," I replied.

Mr. Bush replied, "My people tell me that cut-and-run would be a disaster, a calamity. If we were to pull out now and dump the mess on the Iraqis, what foreign government could rely on the future word of the United States? It would wreck our credibility. We must above all stay the course."

"Cut-and-run has a bad reputation," I said, "and the last time the U.S. cut and ran in a major way was thirty years ago in Vietnam. The stakes were ostensibly high. The collapse of South Vietnam, according to President Eisenhower's domino theory, would mean communist control of Southeast Asia. 'Our defeat and humiliation in South Vietnam,' President Nixon further said, 'without question would promote recklessness in councils of those great powers who have not abandoned their goals of world conquest.'

"Nevertheless," I said, "we cut and ran from Vietnam. The spectacle of our Vietnamese friends clinging to American helicopters underlined American defeat and humiliation. But the crisis in our credibility did not materialize. The reaction of most foreigners was to see America, after a long aberration, coming to its senses. Cut-and-run got us out of an unwinnable war in which our vital interests were not involved. Cut-and-run liberated U.S. armed forces for containment and deterrence elsewhere on the planet. Our withdrawal from Vietnam actually increased our credibility—as de Gaulle's retreat from Algeria increased French credibility. And the aftermath refuted the domino theory that got us into the Vietnam War—just as the aftermath refutes the weapons-of-mass-destruction theory that got us into the Iraq War. Mr. President, please contemplate our withdrawal from Vietnam as a historic precedent."

"Moreover," I added, "there were distinct obligations we owed to Vietnamese friends—obligations that do not exist in Iraq. We intervened in the Vietnamese civil war in support of one side. This meant that, when we withdrew, we abandoned our Vietnamese comrades. It was a moral betrayal for which our friends paid a heavy price. We had to make a cruel choice between persisting in a pointless war or sacrificing our friends. International geopolitics is a hard game. But despite the death and ruin we brought to Vietnam—far more death and ruin than we have brought to Iraq—Americans today are very popular in communist Vietnam. "The future of Iraq is uncertain. Cut-and-run might lead to free-for-all anarchy or to Islamic domination; but it might equally precipitate Sunni-Shiite-Kurd collaboration in containing the insurgency and governing the country. Maybe the shock of U.S. withdrawal will stimulate the rise of Iraqi responsibility."

"As long as I'm the president," Mr. Bush responded, "we will stay, we will fight, and we will win the war on terror."

"But Mr. President," I said, "surely so long as the American military occupation lasts, it serves as a recruiting incentive for terrorists from all over the Middle East. As Chuck Hagel, a Vietnam veteran and senator from your own party, says, 'The longer we stay, the more problems we're going to have.' That is the fatal contradiction in the policy of staying the course. Another fatal contradiction is if the Iraq Army is to be made strong enough to destroy the insurgency, they need heavy American weapons, but, given the murky future, no one can tell when such weapons might be turned against the occupying army itself."

"We owe them something," the president said, referring to the GIs killed in the Iraq War. "We will finish the task that they gave their lives for."

As Stephen Schlesinger, director of the World Policy Institute, notes, "By this logic, we should have continued fighting in Vietnam because we 'owed' it to the over 50,000 Americans killed in that conflict. . . . The issue in Iraq today is assessing where our true national interests lie."

"Mr. President," I said, "our true national interests lie in ending this senseless war."

And then I woke up.