December 17, 2004

ONCE UPON a time there was an emperor who wanted new clothes. He had ascended to the same throne upon which his father had sat. But for eight long years previously usurpers had ruled. Now they were gone, and the new emperor decreed that everything done in the last eight years would henceforth be considered wrong. From now only the right would prevail.

So saying, he discarded all the royal garments that reminded him of the usurper, and looked about him for a new firm of royal tailors.

He appointed the firm of Cheney, Chalabi, and Wolfowitz, known as the Tailors of Baghdad, as his official clothiers. Although it was a fine old firm, they had never sold their goods to an emperor before. Indeed the emperor's father had rejected them. But because of their wondrous, new, and revolutionary weaving techniques, some of the men in the firm came to be known as neo-tailors.

They promised the monarch that he had only to wear their suit of clothes and all Baghdad would fall before him. And not just Baghdad, but all of Araby as well. These liberated realms would accept the emperor's values, and the empire could have access to their oil, their military bases, and all his new subjects would joyfully fall over one another in praise of the emperor's clothes. Mr. Chalabi even threw in an extra pair of pants for the same price.

The emperor, a man who valued loyalty above all things, ordered the tailors to make a suit of the same cloth for his Grand Vizier, the most powerful and influential man in his Cabinet, who served also as the empire's minister for war. Mr. Chalabi offered an extra pair of pants for the Grand Vizier as well.

The wily tailors explained, however, that their new cloth was so special that it would be visible only to the virtuous. To those who lacked virtue the threads would be invisible.

And so they began to work. And late into the night the sounds of their shuttlecocks and bobbins could be heard clacking and spinning as the weavers plied their trade.

On the appointed day the clothes were ready, and the emperor gathered all his courtiers together for an official viewing of his new garments. There was general applause and compliments from the courtiers, who said that the new clothes were bold and beautiful and symbolized the greatness of the empire. One courtier, who was in a position to know better, even called the new clothes a "slam dunk," and would in due course be given the empire's highest civilian medal.

There were a few who gasped because they saw nothing. But most kept their mouths shut because they didn't want to be seen as without virtue. And the few who did try to warn the emperor were ignored.

It came to pass that all Baghdad did fall before the emperor, and the tailors were happy, the king was happy, and above all the Grand Vizier was happy as his rivals lost influence.

But then things started to go terribly wrong. First of all, the empire's new subjects did not fall down in praise of the emperor's new clothes. They began to take up arms against him. As the days and months progressed things only got worse. The Grand Vizier, it seemed, never had an adequate plan, and the price for the new clothes kept rising. But he was nonetheless asked to continue his good work even as his rivals were banished from court.

One day the Grand Vizier decided to go to Kuwait to boost the morale of his soldiers who were being killed in defense of the empire. He appeared before them in all his shining robes. Generals, colonels, and captains all clapped and admired the preening vizier.

But then a young solider spoke up and said to the Grand Vizier: "But you, sir, have no clothes on; just the way we haven't any armor for our trucks, and we are being sent naked into battle."

Now if Hans Christian Andersen were telling this story, it would become clear to all that both the emperor and his Grand Vizier were standing naked before them, but this has not yet come to pass.

And the tailors? Well, Mr. Chalabi has left the firm, but the rest are busy sewing a new set of clothes of which they hope the emperor will approve. It is to be cut from Iranian whole cloth.

H.D.S. Greenway's column appears regularly in the Globe.

© Copyright 2004 Globe Newspaper Company.