The vote was unanimous, 15 to 0. Not only had France voted for the resolution, but so had Russia, China, and Syria. The world was now on record: Saddam had a “final opportunity to comply” with his obligation to disclose and disarm. If he did not, he would face “serious consequences.”
Under the terms of UN Security Council Resolution 1441, Iraq had thirty days to submit a “currently accurate, full, and complete declaration” of all WMD-related programs. The resolution made clear the burden of proof rested with Saddam. The inspectors did not have to prove that he had weapons. He had to prove that he did not.
When the deadline arrived on December 7, Saddam submitted his report. I viewed it as a key test. If he came forward with honest admissions, it would send a signal that he understood the message the world was sending. Instead, he submitted reams of irrelevant paperwork clearly designed to deceive. Hans Blix, the mild-mannered Swedish diplomat who led the UN inspections team, later called it “rich in volume but poor in information.” Joe Lieberman was more succinct. He said the declaration was a “twelve-thousand-page, one-hundred-pound lie.”
If Saddam continued his pattern of deception, the only way to keep the pressure on Iraq would be to present some of the evidence ourselves. I asked George Tenet and his capable deputy, John McLaughlin, to brief me on what intelligence we could declassify to explain Iraq’s WMD programs.
A few days before Christmas, John walked me through their first effort. It was not very convincing. I thought back to CIA briefings I had received, the NIE that concluded Saddam had biological and chemical weapons, and the data the CIA had provided for my UN speech in September. “Surely we can do a better job of explaining the evidence against Saddam,” I said. George Tenet agreed.
“It’s a slam dunk,” he said.
I believed him. I had been receiving intelligence briefings on Iraq for nearly two years. The conclusion that Saddam had WMD was nearly a universal consensus. My predecessor believed it. Republicans and Democrats on Capitol Hill believed it. Intelligence agencies in Germany, France, Great Britain, Russia, China, and Egypt believed it. As the German ambassador to the United States, not a supporter of war, later put it, “I think all of our governments believe that Iraq has produced weapons of mass destruction and that we have to assume that they still have … weapons of mass destruction.” If anything, we worried that the CIA was underestimating Saddam, as it had before the Gulf War.
In retrospect, of course, we all should have pushed harder on the intelligence and revisited our assumptions. But at the time, the evidence and the logic pointed in the other direction. If Saddam doesn’t actually have WMD, I asked myself, why on earth would he subject himself to a war he will almost certainly lose?
Every Christmas during my presidency, Laura and I invited our extended family to join us at Camp David. We were happy to continue the tradition started by Mother and Dad. We cherished the opportunity to relax with them, Laura’s mom, Barbara and Jenna, and my brothers and sister and their families. We loved to watch the children’s pageant at the Camp David chapel and to sing carols with military personnel and their families. One of the highlights was an annual Pink Elephant gift exchange, in which my teenage nieces and nephews were not above pilfering the latest iPod or other coveted item from the president of the United States. In later years, we started a tradition of making donations in another family member’s name. Jeb and Doro donated books to the library aboard the USS George H.W. Bush. Marvin and his wife, Margaret, donated a communion chalice to the Camp David chapel on behalf of Laura and me. We gave a gift to the Dorothy Walker Bush Pavilion at the Southern Maine Medical Center in Mother and Dad’s name.
The Christmas pageant at Camp David's Evergreen Chapel, one of our favorite holiday traditions. White House/Eric Draper
Amid the Christmas celebrations in 2002, Dad and I talked about Iraq. For the most part, I didn’t seek Dad’s advice on major issues. He and I both understood that I had access to more and better information than he did. Most of our conversations were for me to reassure him that I was doing fine and for him to express his confidence and love.
Iraq was one issue where I wanted to know what he thought. I told Dad I was praying we could deal with Saddam peacefully but was preparing for the alternative. I walked him through the diplomatic strategy—the solid support from Blair, Howard, and Aznar; the uncertainty with Chirac and Schroeder; and my efforts to rally the Saudis, Jordanians, Turks, and others in the Middle East.
He shared my hope that diplomacy would succeed. “You know how tough war is, son, and you’ve got to try everything you can to avoid war,” he said. “But if the man won’t comply, you don’t have any other choice.”
I sought Dad's advice on Iraq. White House/Eric Draper
Shortly after New Year’s, I sent Barbara and Jenna a letter at college. “I am working hard to keep the peace and avoid a war,” I wrote. “I pray that the man in Iraq will disarm in a peaceful way. We are putting pressure on him to do just that and much of the world is with us.”
As 2003 began, it became increasingly clear that my prayer would not be answered. On January 27, Hans Blix gave a formal report to the United Nations. His inspections team had discovered warheads that Saddam had failed to declare or destroy, indications of the highly toxic VX nerve agent, and precursor chemicals for mustard gas. In addition, the Iraqi government was defying the inspections process. The regime had violated Resolution 1441 by blocking U-2 flights and hiding three thousand documents in the home of an Iraqi nuclear official. “Iraq appears not to have come to a genuine acceptance, not even today, of the disarmament that was demanded of it,” Blix said.
I could see what was happening: Saddam was trying to shift the burden of proof from himself to us. I reminded our partners that the UN resolution clearly stated that it was Saddam’s responsibility to comply. As Mohamed ElBaradei, director of the International Atomic Energy Agency, explained in late January, “The ball is entirely in Iraq’s court. … Iraq now has to prove that it is innocent. … They need to go out of their way to prove through whatever possible means that they have no weapons of mass destruction.”
In late January, Tony Blair came to Washington for a strategy session. We agreed that Saddam had violated UN Security Council Resolution 1441 by submitting a false declaration. We had ample justification to enforce the “serious consequences.” But Tony wanted to go back to the UN for a second resolution clarifying that Iraq had “failed to take the final opportunity afforded to it.”
“It’s not that we need it,” Tony said. “A second resolution gives us military and political protection.”
I dreaded the thought of plunging back into the UN. Dick, Don, and Condi were opposed. Colin told me that we didn’t need another resolution and probably couldn’t get one. But if Tony wanted a second resolution, we would try. “As I see it, the issue of the second resolution is how best to help our friends,” I said.
The best way to get a second resolution was to lay out the evidence against Saddam. I asked Colin to make the presentation to the UN. He had credibility as a highly respected diplomat known to be reluctant about the possibility of war. I knew he would do a thorough, careful job. In early February, Colin spent four days and four nights at the CIA personally reviewing the intelligence to ensure he was comfortable with every word in his speech. On February 5, he took the microphone at the Security Council.
“The facts on Iraq’s behavior,” he said, “demonstrate that Saddam Hussein and his regime have made no effort—no effort—to disarm as required by the international community. Indeed, the facts and Iraq’s behavior show that Saddam Hussein and his regime are concealing their efforts to produce more weapons of mass destruction.”
Colin’s presentation was exhaustive, eloquent, and persuasive. Coming against the backdrop of Saddam’s defiance of the weapons inspectors, it had a profound impact on the public debate. Later, many of the assertions in Colin’s speech would prove inaccurate. But at the time, his words reflected the considered
judgment of intelligence agencies at home and around the world.
“We are both moral men,” Jacques Chirac told me after Colin’s speech. “But in this case, we see morality differently.” I replied politely, but I thought to myself: If a dictator who tortures and gasses his people is not immoral, then who is?
Three days later, Chirac stepped in front of the cameras and said, “Nothing today justifies war.” He, Gerhard Schroeder, and Vladimir Putin issued a joint statement of opposition. All three of them sat on the Security Council. The odds of a second resolution looked bleak.
Tony urged that we forge ahead. “The stakes are now much higher,” he wrote to me on February 19. “It is apparent to me from the EU summit that France wants to make this a crucial test: Is Europe America’s partner or competitor?” He reminded me we had support from a strong European coalition, including Spain, Italy, Denmark, the Netherlands, Portugal, and all of Eastern Europe. In a recent NATO vote, fifteen members of the alliance had supported military action in Iraq, with only Belgium and Luxembourg standing with Germany and France. Portuguese Prime Minister José Barroso spoke for many European leaders when he asked, incredulously, “We are faced with the choice of America or Iraq, and we’re going to pick Iraq?”
Tony and I agreed on a strategy: We would introduce the second resolution at the UN, joined by the visionary leader of Spain, Prime Minister José Maria Aznar. If we lined up enough yes votes, we might be able to persuade France and Russia to abstain rather than veto. If not, we would pull down the resolution, and it would be clear they had blocked the final diplomatic effort.
The second resolution, which we introduced on February 24, 2003, was important for another reason. Tony was facing intense internal pressure on the issue of Iraq, and it was important for him to show that he had exhausted every possible alternative to military force. Factions of the Labour Party had revolted against him. By early March, it wasn’t clear if his government could survive.
I called Tony and expressed my concern. I told him I’d rather have him drop out of the coalition and keep his government than try to stay in and lose it.
“I said I’m with you,” Tony answered.
I pressed my point again.
“I understand that, and that’s good of you to say,” he replied. “I absolutely believe in this. I will take it up to the very last.”
I heard an echo of Winston Churchill in my friend’s voice. It was a moment of courage that will stay with me forever.
At Tony’s request, I made one last effort to persuade Mexico and Chile, two wavering Security Council members, to support the second resolution. My first call was to my friend President Vicente Fox. The conversation got off to an inauspicious start. When I told Vicente I was calling about the UN resolution, he asked which one I meant. “If I can give you some advice,” I said, “you should not be seen teaming up with the French.” He said he would think about it and get back to me. An hour passed. Then Condi heard from the embassy. Vicente had checked into the hospital for back surgery. I never did hear from him on the issue.
My conversation with President Ricardo Lagos of Chile did not go much better. He was a distinguished, scholarly man and an effective leader. We had negotiated a free trade agreement that I hoped Congress would approve soon. But public opinion in Chile ran against a potential war, and Ricardo was reluctant to support the resolution. He talked about giving Saddam an additional two or three weeks. I told him a few more weeks would make no difference. Saddam had already had years to comply. “It is sad it has come down to this,” I said. I asked one last time how he planned to vote. He said no.
As the diplomatic process drifted along, the pressure for action had been mounting. In early 2003, Federal Reserve Chairman Alan Greenspan told me the uncertainty was hurting the economy. Prince Bandar of Saudi Arabia, the kingdom’s longtime ambassador to Washington and a friend of mine since Dad’s presidency, came to the Oval Office and told me our allies in the Middle East wanted a decision.
Whenever I heard someone claim that we had rushed to war, I thought back to this period. It had been more than a decade since the Gulf War resolutions had demanded that Saddam disarm, over four years since he had kicked out the weapons inspectors, six months since I had issued my ultimatum at the UN, four months since Resolution 1441 had given Saddam his “final opportunity,” and three months past the deadline to fully disclose his WMD. Diplomacy did not feel rushed. It felt like it was taking forever.
Meanwhile, the threats continued. President Hosni Mubarak of Egypt had told Tommy Franks that Iraq had biological weapons and was certain to use them on our troops. He refused to make the allegation in public for fear of inciting the Arab Street. But the intelligence from a Middle Eastern leader who knew Saddam well had an impact on my thinking. Just as there were risks to action, there were risks to inaction as well: Saddam with a biological weapon was a serious threat to us all.
In the winter of 2003, I sought opinions on Iraq from a variety of sources. I asked for advice from scholars, Iraqi dissidents in exile, and others outside the administration. One of the most fascinating people I met with was Elie Wiesel, the author, Holocaust survivor, and deserving Nobel Peace Prize recipient. Elie is a sober and gentle man. But there was passion in his seventy-four-year-old eyes when he compared Saddam Hussein’s brutality to the Nazi genocide. “Mr. President,” he said, “you have a moral obligation to act against evil.” The force of his conviction affected me deeply. Here was a man who had devoted his life to peace urging me to intervene in Iraq. As he later explained in an op-ed: “Though I oppose war, I am in favor of intervention when, as in this case because of Hussein’s equivocations and procrastinations, no other option remains.”
With Elie Wiesel. White House/Paul Draper
I’ve always wondered why many critics of the war did not acknowledge the moral argument made by people like Elie Wiesel. Many of those who demonstrated against military action in Iraq were devoted advocates of human rights. Yet they condemned me for using force to remove the man who had gassed the Kurds, mowed down the Shia by helicopter gunship, massacred the Marsh Arabs, and sent tens of thousands to mass graves. I understood why people might disagree on the threat Saddam Hussein posed to the United States. But I didn’t see how anyone could deny that liberating Iraq advanced the cause of human rights.
With diplomacy faltering, our military planning sessions had increasingly focused on what would happen after the removal of Saddam. In later years, some critics would charge that we failed to prepare for the postwar period. That sure isn’t how I remember it.
Starting in the fall of 2002, a group led by Deputy National Security Adviser Steve Hadley produced in-depth plans for post-Saddam Iraq. Two of our biggest concerns were starvation and refugees. Sixty percent of Iraqis were dependent on the government as a source of food. An estimated two million Iraqis could be displaced from their homes during war.
On January 15, Elliott Abrams, a senior NSC staffer, delivered a detailed briefing on our preparations. We planned to prestation food, blankets, medicine, tents, and other relief supplies. We produced maps of where refugees could be sheltered. We deployed experienced humanitarian relief experts to enter Iraq alongside our troops. We had pinpointed the locations of most of Iraq’s fifty-five thousand food distribution points and made arrangements with international organizations—including the World Food Programme—to make sure plenty of food was available.
We also developed plans for long-term reconstruction. We focused on ten areas: education, health, water and sanitation, electricity, shelter, transportation, governance and rule of law, agriculture, communications, and economic policy. For each, we gathered data, formulated a strategy, and set precise goals. For example, USAID determined that Iraq had 250 nonmilitary general hospitals, 20 military hospitals, 5 medical college hospitals, and 995 civilian medical care centers. Our plan called for surging medical supplies into the country, working to recruit Iraqi doctors and nurses living abroad to return home, training new med
ical personnel, and, ultimately, handing control to a new Iraqi health ministry.
One of the toughest questions was how to plan for a post-Saddam political system. Some in the administration suggested that we turn over power immediately to a group of Iraqi exiles. I didn’t like the idea. While the exiles had close connections in Washington, I felt strongly that the Iraqis’ first leader should be someone they selected. I was mindful of the British experience in Iraq in the 1920s. Great Britain had installed a non-Iraqi king, Faisal, who was viewed as illegitimate and whose appointment stoked resentment and instability. We were not going to repeat that mistake.
The other major challenge was how to provide security after Saddam. Some intelligence reports predicted that most of Saddam’s army and police would switch sides once the regime was gone. The top commanders—those with innocent blood on their hands—would not be invited to rejoin. But we would draw on the rest of the Saddam-era forces to form the foundation of the new Iraqi military and police.
In January 2003, I issued a presidential directive, NSPD 24, creating a new Office of Reconstruction and Humanitarian Assistance. ORHA was charged with turning our conceptual plans into concrete action. We based the office in the Pentagon, so that our civilian efforts in Iraq would run through the same chain of command as our military operations. To lead the office, Don Rumsfeld tapped Jay Garner, a retired general who had coordinated the military’s relief effort in northern Iraq in 1991. He recruited a cadre of civilian experts from across the government who would stand by to deploy to Baghdad.
By having our plans and personnel ready before the war, I felt we were well prepared. Yet we were aware of our limitations. Our nation building capabilities were limited, and no one knew for sure what needs would arise. The military had an old adage: “No battle plan survives first contact with the enemy.” As we would learn in Iraq, that was doubly true of a plan for the postwar environment.
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