This Monday marks the fifth anniversary of the Benghazi attack and, as Hillary Clinton would say, “What difference at this point does it make?” Which is why, presumably, she’s chosen the occasion for the release of her latest leaden tome. But it makes enough of a difference to us that we’ll be observing the date at SteynOnline. So I thought we’d start, for our Saturday movie date, with the major motion picture based on the events of that hellish night:
Michael (Transformers) Bay has now made two feature films about real-life military attacks on US sovereign territory – in 2001 Pearl Harbor, which was enough to have you rooting for the Japs, and fifteen years later 13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi. Happily, the latter does not have much in common with the former, save for a reprise of what evidently Mr Bay regards as his signature – a rocket falling from the skies to its target, but shot from the rocket’s point of view. If you object that a rocket is an inanimate object and can’t have a point of view, well, it’s all comparative: in Pearl Harbor, the rocket was a lot less inanimate than Ben Affleck. Here the director has a grittier and hairier cast than Pearl Harbor’s matinée idols, and makes a good-faith if not wholly successful effort to dial back the prettifying devices of blockbuster film-making.
As for the point of view, the rocket has one. But Bay doesn’t. This is a visceral, sensory, pulverizing, you-are-there slab of action – all twitchy cameras, sudden edits, jerky cross-cuts – in which the context of the fireballs all around is left for another day. The director describes 13 Hours as “my most real movie”, but it doesn’t have to be that real to be more real than the official version. Film-making and storytelling have been part of the Benghazi fiasco since the evening of September 11th 2012, when the US Government decided to tell its own story about a film-maker whose all but unseen video had, they insisted, led to the death of a US ambassador. In the Hillary Clinton version, four Americans died at the hands of (as I put it at the time) “a spontaneous class-action movie review”. Three days later, when the President, the Secretary of State and the US Ambassador to the United Nations were all still lying to the American people about what happened and why, my characterization of that night holds up better than the Government’s:
As Secretary Clinton and General Dempsey well know, the film has even less to do with anything than did the Danish cartoons or the schoolteacher’s teddy bear or any of the other innumerable grievances of Islam. The 400-strong assault force in Benghazi showed up with RPGs and mortars: That’s not a spontaneous movie protest; that’s an act of war, and better planned and executed than the dying superpower’s response to it. Secretary Clinton and General Dempsey are, to put it mildly, misleading the American people when they suggest otherwise.
One can understand why they might do this, given the fiasco in Libya. The men who organized this attack knew the ambassador would be at the consulate in Benghazi rather than at the embassy in Tripoli. How did that happen? They knew when he had been moved from the consulate to a “safe house,” and switched their attentions accordingly. How did that happen? The United States government lost track of its ambassador for ten hours. How did that happen? Perhaps, when they’ve investigated Mitt Romney’s press release for another three or four weeks, the court eunuchs of the American media might like to look into some of these fascinating questions, instead of leaving the only interesting reporting on an American story to the foreign press.
In the end, the court eunuchs chose to continue fanning Sultan Barack. Three years later, based on a book by five of the survivors, Bay’s film belatedly provided answers to some of the basic questions the media never asked. It’s not a political film at all: Hillary is never mentioned by name, and for the whole 13 hours the Government of the United States – indeed, in a more basic sense, the entire global hyperpower – is an unseen character confined to the end of a telephone that no one ever picks up. There are occasional glimpses of nearby assets – a US air base across the Med in Italy – but in this western the cavalry never come. Five years ago we were told that they couldn’t have got there “in time” – so, in Hillary’s words, what difference would it have made?