Quotes of the Day

Almost no one noticed when a large jet swooped over the military mess hall at the Baghdad airport last Thursday evening. The 1st Armored Division's big brass band was noodling through jazz standards like Take the A Train while 550 soldiers sat at refectory tables, looking hungry and impatient to return to their camps so they could call their families for Thanksgiving.

Finally, L. Paul Bremer, the U.S. proconsul in Iraq, took the stage and asked if there was anyone in the room more senior than he who could read the President's Thanksgiving message to the troops. There was: George W. Bush himself, who entered on cue, inspiring the stunned soldiers to leap to their feet and cheer. A few hours later, Americans watching television at home heard that their President had made a secret visit to Baghdad to share Thanksgiving dinner with the troops. Scenes of President Bush serving turkey and sweet potatoes to G.I.s saturated the news for the next 24 hours and beyond. The President no doubt hopes that the images of this visit will wipe out those from a previous attempt to bond with troops, which became a public-relations disaster. His flight-suited jaunt in May to an aircraft carrier floating off San Diego—where Bush stood below a banner that read MISSION ACCOMPLISHED and declared an end to "major combat operations" in Iraq—seemed brilliant at the time, a powerful image of a triumphant Commander in Chief, a grateful recognition of the armed forces' resolve and an ideal subject for a 30-second campaign spot. But the event was too contrived, Bush's swagger too macho and his message way too premature. As U.S. soldiers continued to die in Iraq over the summer and fall, the President's perfect photo-op turned into perfect fodder for his opponents. When footage of Bush on the carrier did turn up in a TV ad, it was used by a Democrat to attack the President's handling of Iraq.

But Bush is nothing if not tenacious. When his chief of staff Andy Card approached him in mid-October and asked whether he would consider flying into Baghdad to have Thanksgiving dinner with the troops, Bush didn't reject the idea as opportunistic or foolishly risky. As long as no one was put in harm's way, Bush told Card, he would go. And so Card and a tiny handful of other aides went to work, looking for a way to thank the troops that would also be an antidote to the mission-accomplished debacle and a rebuttal to critics who have complained about Bush's failure to attend soldiers' funerals. This time, the Bush team was determined to get the message right.

Secrecy was essential. Not since Abraham Lincoln visited Richmond, Va., just days after the Confederates fled, had a U.S. President placed himself so close to the front lines. If Iraqi insurgents had had warning of the President's visit, the risk of an attack would have been too high. The circle of silence was so small that not even the President's parents knew about the trip until after they had arrived to celebrate Thanksgiving at Bush's ranch in Crawford, Texas. The Secret Service, according to a former top agent, "did not think this was a good idea. It was an absolutely unnecessary risk, a huge risk." But agents were ordered to plan the trip anyway, with the promise that it would be scrapped if word got out. As the President said during the return flight from Baghdad, had news of his visit leaked even a few hours before his arrival, "I was fully prepared to turn this plane around."

There was another advantage to secrecy. The Bushes love surprises. The President knew that reporters would never suspect him of forgoing a family Thanksgiving at his beloved ranch. And his aides knew that, given no advance notice, the media would treat the visit as unfiltered breaking news, with less of the usual talking-head dissection of the President's motives. They would instead focus on the event itself—the shock and excitement of the troops, the images of Bush standing in the serving line, and the tributes of appreciation from individual G.I.s after he left.

And that's what happened. Cable anchors broke the news between the end of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and the start of the day's football games. Scenes of Bush, his eyes moist with tears, speaking with the troops, serving them dinner and posing for snapshots, played all day long and into Friday. Nearly every daily newspaper in the country carried the story on its front page. "It was masterful," says a top Democratic political operative. "It's pretty hard to criticize this one."

Most Democrats didn't even try. Those vying for the chance to oust Bush from office were forced to wedge words of praise for the visit into statements criticizing his handling of postwar Iraq. John Kerry called the trip "the right thing to do." Spokesmen for Howard Dean, Joe Lieberman and John Edwards did the same. Even Hillary Clinton, whose own trip to Iraq on Friday was completely overshadowed by Bush's, commended the President. With the economy showing signs of a sustained recovery and with Bush having outfoxed Democrats in Congress to pass a massive new prescription-drug benefit for seniors, Iraq was starting to look like the President's greatest electoral vulnerability.

Then came Thanksgiving, and, for the moment at least, Bush seemed to have bested his opponents once more.

But if the President has learned anything, it is that P.R. triumphs can quickly fade or even sour. Although his Thanksgiving gambit played well at home, reviews were decidedly mixed in Iraq. As word of Bush's visit filtered across Baghdad, some Iraqis applauded the news, but many either dismissed it as meaningless or chided the U.S. President for never leaving the military base or meeting with any Iraqis. "I am very proud he came, but he should have come inside the real Baghdad," says Shuan Gharib, 32, a waiter. Says Alah Ghanam, 31, as he stands guard outside a western Baghdad restaurant: "He did it all for the coming election. But I have to say, coming to Baghdad was a very courageous step."

Courageous it certainly was, and a morale boost for G.I.s too. But not even a presidential visit can change the reality on the ground. In Iraq the U.S. and its coalition allies are trying to pacify and democratize a nation of 25 million people while fighting a guerrilla war against determined and increasingly effective insurgents. The morning after Air Force One left Baghdad, a U.S. soldier was killed in a mortar attack in Mosul. By the weekend, 79 Americans had been killed since Oct. 31, making November the deadliest month for U.S. troops in Iraq since the war began in March.

On Saturday seven Spanish intelligence officers were killed when their convoy was ambushed south of Baghdad. After the attack Iraqi youths celebrated by kicking the Spaniards' bodies. Bush's Thanksgiving Day swoop into Baghdad will inevitably tie his fate more closely to the volatile situation in Iraq. Having stood on Iraqi soil and committed the U.S. to seeing its mission through, the President will have little room to maneuver during the election campaign if he's faced with increasing calls to bring the troops home. If the American death toll slows, Saddam Hussein is found and democracy begins to take root, Bush won't need a campaign ad to make his point. But if Iraq gets worse instead of better, neither will his opponents.

—With reporting by Brian Bennett and Vivienne Walt/Baghdad and John F. Dickerson/ Washington

• James Carney