Ready to run with Army Staff Sergeant Christian Bagge. White House/Eric Draper
I thought about Christian a lot that summer, and in the years that followed. Our country owed him our gratitude and support. I owed him something more: I couldn’t let Iraq fail.
On August 17, I convened the national security team in the Roosevelt Room, with General Casey, General Abizaid, and Ambassador Khalilzad on the video screen. The results of Operation Together Forward were not promising. Our troops had driven terrorists and death squads out of Baghdad neighborhoods. But Iraqi forces couldn’t maintain control. We could clear but not hold.
“The situation seems to be deteriorating,” I said. “I want to be able to say that I have a plan to punch back. Can America succeed? If so, how? How do our commanders answer that?”
General Casey told me we could succeed by transferring responsibility to the Iraqis faster. We needed to “help them help themselves,” Don Rumsfeld said. That was another way of saying that we needed to take our hand off the bicycle seat. I wanted to send a message to the team that I was thinking differently. “We must succeed,” I said. “If they can’t do it, we will. If the bicycle teeters, we’re going to put the hand back on. We have to make damn sure we do not fail.”
Chief of Staff Josh Bolten, who knew where I was headed, added the exclamation point. “If it gets worse,” he said near the end of the meeting, “what radical measures can the team recommend?”
I left the meeting convinced we would have to develop those measures ourselves. I authorized Steve Hadley to formalize the review the NSC Iraq team*** had been conducting. I wanted them to challenge every assumption behind our strategy and generate new options. I soon came to view them as my personal band of warriors.
By the fall, my Iraq briefing charts showed an average of almost a thousand attacks per week. I read accounts of sectarian extremists torturing civilians with power drills, kidnapping patients from hospitals, and blowing up worshippers during Friday prayers. General Casey had launched a second major operation to restore security in Baghdad, this time with more Iraqi forces to hold territory. Once again, it failed.
I decided a change in strategy was needed. To be credible to the American people, it would have to be accompanied by changes in personnel. Don Rumsfeld had suggested that I might need fresh eyes on Iraq. He was right. I also needed new commanders. Both George Casey and John Abizaid had served extended tours and were scheduled to return home. It was time for fresh eyes in their posts as well.
With the 2006 midterm elections approaching, the rhetoric on Iraq was hot. “The idea that we’re going to win this war is an idea that unfortunately is just plain wrong,” DNC Chairman Howard Dean proclaimed. “We are causing the problem,” said Congressman John Murtha of Pennsylvania, one of the first prominent Democrats to call for an immediate withdrawal. Senator Joe Biden, the ranking member of the Foreign Relations Committee, recommended partitioning Iraq into three separate entities. Republicans were anxious, too, as Mitch McConnell made clear with his Oval Office request for a troop reduction.
I decided to wait until after the elections to announce any policy or personnel changes. I didn’t want the American people or our military to think I was making national security decisions for political reasons.
The weekend before the midterms, I met with Bob Gates in Crawford to ask him to become secretary of defense. Bob had served on the Baker-Hamilton Commission, a panel chartered by Congress to study the situation in Iraq. He told me he had supported a troop surge as one of the group’s recommendations. I told Bob I was looking for a new commander in Iraq. He would review the candidates and offer his advice. But I suggested that he take a close look at David Petraeus.
After two election cycles in which Republicans increased their numbers in Congress, we took a pounding in 2006. We lost majorities in both the House and Senate. The new speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi, declared, “The American people have spoken. … We must begin the responsible redeployment of our troops outside of Iraq.”
As our review of the Iraq strategy intensified, we focused on three primary options. The first called for us to accelerate the existing strategy of training Iraqi forces while withdrawing our own. The Iraqis would assume increasing responsibility for dealing with the violence, while we would focus on more limited missions, including hunting al Qaeda.
The second option was to pull our troops back from Baghdad until the sectarian violence burned out. In October, Condi had traveled to Iraq and come back discouraged with Maliki and the other leaders. If they were determined to fight a sectarian war, she argued, why should we leave our troops in the middle of their blood feud?
The third option was to double down. We would deploy tens of thousands more troops—a surge—to conduct a full-scale counterinsurgency campaign in Baghdad. Rather than pull out of the cities, our troops would move in, live among the people, and secure the civilian population.
The fundamental question was whether the Iraqis had the will to succeed. I believed most Iraqis supported democracy. I was convinced that Iraqi mothers, like all mothers, wanted their children to grow up with hope for the future. I had met Iraqi exchange students, doctors, women’s activists, and journalists who were determined to live in freedom and peace. A year after the liberation of Iraq, I met a group of small business owners who had manufactured items like watches and textiles during the Saddam era. To buy materials, they traded Iraqi dinars for foreign currency. When the dinar declined in value, Saddam searched for scapegoats and ordered the men’s right hands cut off. Documentary producer Don North and Houston TV journalist Marvin Zindler heard the story and brought the Iraqis to Texas, where each was fitted for a prosthetic hand by Dr. Joe Agris, free of charge.
When the Iraqis arrived in the Oval Office, they were still learning to use their right hands. All were grateful to the American people for freeing them from the brutality of Saddam. And all had hope for their country. One Iraqi picked up a pen in his month-old hand and painstakingly scrawled some Arabic words on a piece of paper: “A prayer for God to bless America.”
Watching this Iraqi man write a prayer for America with his new prosthetic hand. White House/Eric Draper
I marveled at the contrast between a regime so brutal that it would hack off men’s hands and a society so compassionate that it would help restore their dignity. I believed the Iraqi man who wrote those words spoke for millions of his fellow citizens. They were grateful to America for their liberation. They wanted to live in freedom. And I would not give up on them.
In late October, I sent Steve Hadley to meet privately with Prime Minister Maliki in Baghdad. Steve’s assessment was that Maliki was “either ignorant of what is going on, misrepresenting his intentions, or that his capabilities are not yet sufficient to turn his good intentions into action.” Before I made a decision on the way forward, I needed to determine which of these was true.
On November 29, 2006, I flew to meet Maliki in Amman, Jordan. The Iraqi prime minister’s leadership had frustrated us at times. He had not always deployed Iraqi troops when he said he would. Some in his government had suspicious ties to Iran. He hadn’t done enough to go after Shia extremists. General Casey was rightly upset that sectarian officials close to Maliki had blocked our troops from going into Shia neighborhoods.
Yet over his six months in power, Maliki had matured as a leader. He had endured death threats, potential coups, and numerous congressional delegations traveling to Iraq to berate him. A few days before our scheduled summit in Jordan, radical Shia leader Moqtada al Sadr threatened to withdraw his supporters from the government if the prime minister met with me. Maliki came anyway.
“Here is my plan,” he said proudly as he handed me a document with the new seal of the Iraqi government on the cover. Inside was an ambitious proposal to retake Baghdad with Iraqi forces. I knew his army and police were not ready for such a major undertaking. What mattered was that Maliki recognized the problem of sectarian violence and was showing a willingness
to lead.
“Americans want to know whether your plan allows us to go against both Sunni and Shia killers,” I asked.
“We don’t distinguish by ethnicity,” he replied.
I asked to meet with the prime minister alone. Maliki seemed ready to confront the violence. I decided to test his commitment by raising the prospect of a surge.
“The political pressure to abandon Iraq is enormous,” I said, “but I am willing to resist that pressure if you are willing to make the hard choices.”
I continued: “I’m willing to commit tens of thousands of additional American troops to help you retake Baghdad. But you need to give me certain assurances.”
I ran through the list: He had to commit more Iraqi forces, and they had to show up. There could be no political interference in our joint military operations—no more forbidding us from going into Shia neighborhoods. He would have to confront the Shia militias, including Sadr’s army. And as security improved, he had to make progress on political reconciliation among Shia, Sunnis, and Kurds.
On every point, Maliki gave me his word that he would follow through.
On the flight home from Jordan, I thought about the options for a new strategy. Accelerating the handover to the Iraqis was not a viable approach. That sounded a lot like our current strategy, which was failing.
I didn’t think it was practical to withdraw from the cities and let the violence burn out. I couldn’t ask our troops to stand back and watch innocent people being slaughtered by extremists. I worried Iraq could be broken so badly that it would be impossible to put back together.
The surge option brought risks of its own. Increasing our troop levels would be deeply unpopular at home. The fighting would be tough, and casualties could be high. If Maliki let us down, we might not be able to stem the violence.
After seeing Maliki, I believed we could count on his support. The surge was our best chance, maybe our last chance, to accomplish our objectives in Iraq.
Over weeks of intense discussion in November and December, most of the national security team came to support the surge. Dick Cheney, Bob Gates, Josh Bolten, and Steve Hadley and his NSC warriors were behind the new approach. Condi would be, too, so long as the plan didn’t send more troops under the same old strategy.
On a decision this controversial and important, it was essential to have unity. Congress and the press would probe for any rift within the administration. If they found one, they would exploit it to justify their opposition and block the plan. To reach that consensus, one more group needed to be on board, the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
Established by the National Security Act of 1947, the Joint Chiefs included the heads of each service branch, plus a chairman and vice-chairman. The chiefs are not part of the chain of command, so they have no direct responsibility for military operations. A key part of their role is to advocate the health and strength of our armed forces. By law, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs is the president’s principal military adviser.
The chairman of the Joint Chiefs in 2006 was General Pete Pace. Pete was the first Marine to serve as chairman and one of the great officers of his generation. As a young lieutenant in Vietnam, Pete led a platoon that endured heavy fighting. For the rest of his career, he carried the photos of the Marines who gave their lives under his command. When he took office as chairman, he made a point of telling me their names. He never forgot them, or the cost of war.
Pete had launched a strategy review within the Joint Chiefs, and I asked Steve Hadley to make sure the surge concept had a place in their discussions. I decided to go see the chiefs at the Pentagon to listen to their thoughts in person.
Two days before the meeting, Pete came to the Oval Office. He told me I would hear a number of concerns from the chiefs, but they were prepared to support the surge. He also gave Steve an estimate on how many troops might be needed to make a difference: five brigades, about twenty thousand Americans.
On December 13, 2006, I walked into the Tank, the Joint Chiefs’ secure wood-paneled conference room at the Pentagon. Coming to their territory was a way to show my respect. I opened by telling them I was there to hear their opinions and ask their advice.
Discussing the surge strategy with the Joint Chiefs of Staff in the Tank. White House/Eric Draper
I went around the table one by one. The chiefs laid out their concerns. They worried about Maliki’s level of commitment. They felt other agencies of the government needed to contribute more in Iraq. They questioned whether the demands of a surge would leave us unprepared for other contingencies, such as a flare-up on the Korean Peninsula.
Their overriding worry was that a troop increase would “break the military” by putting too much strain on service members and their families. Many of our troops in Iraq were serving their second or third tours in the country. To make the surge possible, we would have to extend some tours from twelve to fifteen months. The effect on recruitment, morale, training, preparedness, and military families could be profound.
Army Chief of Staff Pete Schoomaker and Marine Commandant James Conway recommended an increase in the size of their services. They believed an expansion would ease the stress on our forces and help ensure we were ready for potential conflicts elsewhere in the world. I liked the idea and promised to consider it.
At the end of the meeting, I summarized my thinking. “I share your concern about breaking the military,” I said. “The surest way to break the military would be to lose in Iraq.”
My initial plan was to announce the new Iraq strategy a week or two before Christmas. But as the date approached, I concluded we needed more time. I wanted Bob Gates, who was sworn in as secretary of defense on December 18, to visit Iraq.
Two days before Christmas, Bob came to see me at Camp David. He told me he had visited with Maliki, who had refined his plan for an Iraqi surge to match ours. Maliki would declare martial law, deploy three additional Iraqi brigades to Baghdad, appoint a military governor, and name two deputy commanders with free rein to go after extremists of any sectarian background. Bob had also decided on his recommendation for a new commander. It would be General David Petraeus. We agreed to nominate General Casey for a promotion to Army chief of staff. George had a long and distinguished record of service, and his experience would benefit the Army. I also wanted to make clear that I did not blame him for the problems in Iraq.
The final question to resolve was the size of the surge. Some in the military proposed that we commit two additional brigades initially—a mini-surge of about ten thousand troops—with the possibility of sending up to three more brigades later. Pete Pace reported that General Petraeus and General Ray Odierno, the number-two commander in Iraq, wanted all five brigades committed up front.
If our commanders on the ground wanted the full force, they would get it. I decided to send five brigades to Baghdad, plus two additional Marine battalions to Anbar Province. We would embed our troops in Iraqi formations, so that we could mentor the Iraqis on the battlefield and prepare the Iraqis to take more responsibility after the surge. Finally, I would accept three key recommendations from the Joint Chiefs. Condi would lead a surge in civilian resources. I would obtain public assurances from Prime Minister Maliki about our troops’ freedom to maneuver. And I would call on Congress to increase the size of the Army and Marine Corps by ninety thousand forces.
On January 4, 2007, I held a secure videoconference with Maliki. “A lot of people here don’t think we can succeed. I do,” I told him. “I’ll put my neck out if you put out yours.” Two days later, he addressed the Iraqi people and signaled his commitment to the surge. “The Baghdad security plan will not provide a safe haven for any outlaws, regardless of sectarian or political affiliation,” he said.
The decision had been tough, but I was confident that I had made it the right way. I had gathered facts and opinions from people inside and outside the administration. I had challenged assumptions and weighed all the options carefully. I knew the surge would be unpopular in the short
term. But while many in Washington had given up on the prospect of victory in Iraq, I had not.
At nine o’clock on the evening of January 10, 2007, I stepped before the cameras in the White House Library. “The situation in Iraq is unacceptable to the American people—and it is unacceptable to me,” I said. “Our troops in Iraq have fought bravely. They have done everything we have asked them to do. Where mistakes have been made, the responsibility rests with me.
“It is clear that we need to change our strategy in Iraq. … So I’ve committed more than twenty thousand additional American troops to Iraq. The vast majority of them—five brigades—will be deployed to Baghdad.”
The reaction was swift and one-sided. “I don’t believe an expansion of twenty thousand troops in Iraq will solve the problems,” one senator said. “I do not believe that sending more troops to Iraq is the answer,” said another. A third pronounced it “the most dangerous foreign policy blunder in this country since Vietnam.” And those were just the Republicans.
The left was even more outspoken. One freshman senator predicted that the surge would not “solve the sectarian violence there. In fact, I think it will do the reverse.” Capturing the view of most of his colleagues, a Washington Post columnist called it “a fantasy-based escalation of the war in Iraq, which could only make sense in some parallel universe where pigs fly and fish commute on bicycles.”
Condi, Bob Gates, and Pete Pace testified on Capitol Hill the day after I announced the surge. The questioning was brutal from both sides of the aisle. “This is the craziest, dumbest plan I’ve ever seen or heard of in my life,” one Democratic congressman told General Pace. “I’ve gone along with the president on this, and I bought into his dream,” a Republican senator told Condi. “At this stage of the game, I just don’t think it’s going to happen.” Afterward Condi came to see me in the Oval Office. “We’ve got a tough sell on this, Mr. President,” she said.
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