Imperial Life in the Emerald City

by Rajiv Chandrasekaran

  At nine o’clock, the crowd moved into a glass-walled room with a flat-screen television. President Bush would be addressing the nation from Fort Bragg, North Carolina. The Bremers sat on a sofa. The rest of the group gathered around them.

  It was June 28, 2005. The toll of American military personnel killed had reached 1,745. The number of Iraqi dead was estimated in the tens of thousands. Large swaths of the country to the north and west of Baghdad remained under the control of insurgents. Almost every day, death squads assassinated Iraqis working for the transitional government.

  Thousands more Iraqi soldiers and policemen had been trained by the Americans, but they still were unready to defend against the insurgents on their own. Only one battalion of the new Iraqi army was deemed by U.S. generals to be prepared enough to fight without American assistance.

  In Baghdad and elsewhere, suicide car bombings—of police stations, army recruitment centers, mosques, funerals—had become so frequent that many Iraqis stopped leaving their homes unless they absolutely had to. Wives worried that their husbands wouldn’t return from work. Parents worried that their children wouldn’t return from school. The fear was worse, several residents told me, than during the three-week war to topple Saddam or the monthlong American blitz in 1991 or even the eight-year conflict with Iran.

  Unemployment continued to hover around 40 percent. The private investors who Peter McPherson hoped would avail themselves of the new flat tax and the reduced tariffs stayed away. Oil production was below prewar levels, and hours-long blackouts still pocked the power grid.

  Efforts to reconstruct Iraq’s infrastructure had resumed after the violence in the spring of 2004, but new security precautions slowed every project. Only a third of the $18.4 billion Supplemental had been spent, and as much as forty cents of every dollar was being used to pay for guards, armored vehicles, and blast walls. The CPA’s plan to build grand water, sewage, and power plants—which staffers such as Steve Browning had cautioned against—had become a money pit. The Iraqis didn’t have the skills or the resources to maintain such structures.

  Defense Department auditors had begun to question the CPA’s spending spree with Iraqi oil funds in the waning days of the occupation, noting that as much as $8.8 billion could not be properly accounted for, including $2.4 billion in one-hundred-dollar bills that was flown to Baghdad from the Federal Reserve Bank of New York six days before the handover of sovereignty.

  The Green Zone had been renamed the International Zone, but it was only a semantic change: the Americans continued to run the enclave, and they remained in the Republican Palace, although they did allow Iraqi government leaders to set up homes and offices in unoccupied villas. With the CPA dissolved, the palace was no longer the domain of the Pentagon; it had become the State Department’s largest embassy, which instituted its own rules. A new business-casual dress code forbade safari vests, holsters, and cargo pants. Stricter security regulations prevented staffers from traveling outside the palace grounds, even to other parts of the International Zone, without a security escort. The PX, the Chinese restaurants, and the al-Rasheed were all out of bounds—with good reason.

  The Emerald City had been breached. On October 14, 2004, a suicide bomber had detonated himself inside the Green Zone Café; another blew himself up at the Green Zone Bazaar. The restaurant and the shops were demolished in the blasts, and five people, including three American civilians, were killed. In an instant, the International Zone became almost as dangerous as the city outside.

  Some embassy staffers spent months on end in the palace bubble, working, eating, and exercising there, and then walking a few hundred feet to sleep in trailers in the rear garden. The PX was moved inside the walls of the palace. For those who grew tired of the dining hall, there was a new option: a Burger King in the palace compound.

  Although most of the CPA’s Republican Party loyalists had been replaced with nonpartisan diplomats, many of whom spoke Arabic and wanted to interact with Iraqis, they were trapped in a fortress. Some Iraqis came to the palace and the Convention Center for meetings, and some of the Americans traveled out in armored convoys, but the opportunities for communication remained limited, and neither side fully understood the other.

  Millions of Iraqis had headed to the polls in January 2005 for the country’s first democratic elections in decades. In Baghdad, in the Kurdish north, and in the Shiite south, the day was a stunning triumph. Men and women waved ink-stained fingers to show that they had voted. There was far less violence than expected, largely because American and Iraqi troops put most cities under a three-day curfew, preventing vehicular traffic and searching pedestrians at random checkpoints. One Iraqi remarked to me that American soldiers should have done the same thing when they arrived in April 2003.

  But in the Sunni-dominated areas to the north and west of the capital, the election was a failure. Local politicians had boycotted the balloting, and insurgents warned residents to stay away from the polls. In Ramadi, only six people voted at one polling station. In Dhuluyah, a town north of Baghdad along the Tigris, the eight polling stations never opened.

  The results mirrored turnout. A coalition of Shiite parties endorsed by Grand Ayatollah al-Sistani won 48 percent of the vote. The two major Kurdish parties picked up a combined 26 percent, and a bloc led by interim prime minister Ayad Allawi, a secular Shiite, got almost 14 percent. The few Sunnis who ran fared miserably: a party headed by interim president Ghazi al-Yawar won less than 2 percent, and a coalition formed by former foreign minister Adnan Pachachi didn’t get enough votes to pick up a single seat in the 275-member National Assembly. All told, Sunni Arabs, who comprised about 20 percent of Iraq’s population, wound up with fewer than 8 percent of the seats in the legislature. Bremer’s single-district electoral law had shut the Sunnis out of the new government, depriving the Americans, and the Iraqis, of a valuable opportunity to win over Sunnis and weaken the insurgency.

  All the key ministries were claimed by the Kurds and the Shiites, whose militiamen swept up legions of young Sunni men—sometimes torturing and killing them—with the acquiescence of the new government. Sunni insurgents began attacking Shiite and Kurdish civilians with the same ferocity they directed at the Americans. Shiites living in Sunni areas north of Baghdad began to flee south. Sunnis in Shiite communities to the south of the capital left their homes and moved north. A civil war had begun.

  The problem would become even more serious a few months later, when it was time to write a permanent constitution. The lack of Sunni participation would result in a charter that most Sunnis opposed. Although they would not be able to muster enough votes to reject the document in a national referendum, it would be yet another opportunity lost to reach out to Sunnis and fracture the insurgency.

  The audience at the CPA reunion quieted as Bush’s image filled the screen in front of them. America, he said, had made “significant progress in Iraq.”

  “Our mission in Iraq is clear,” he said. “We’re hunting down the terrorists. We’re helping Iraqis build a free nation that is an ally in the war on terror. We’re advancing freedom in the broader Middle East. We are removing a source of violence and instability, and laying the foundation of peace for our children and our grandchildren.”

  He conceded no errors.

  After Bush had finished, Bremer addressed the crowd.

  “We will complete the mission, as the president said tonight. When I go around the country, I usually make the point that this is going to be a tough, long struggle. It’s going to take a lot of patience. But I also point out that we Americans are not quitters. We didn’t quit in the eighteenth century until we turned out the British. We didn’t quit in the nineteenth century until we had abolished slavery. We didn’t quit in the twentieth century until we chased totalitarianism off the face of Europe, and we’re not going to quit in the twenty-first century in the face of these terrorists.”

  Everyone applauded. Bremer smiled.

  “Mabruk al-Iraq al-Jedeed,” he sa
id before making his way to the door. Congratulations to the new Iraq.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This book would not have been possible without the willingness of so many people who worked for the CPA and ORHA to speak with me, often repeatedly and at length, about life in the Green Zone and the inner workings of the occupation administration. I am deeply grateful for their time and trust. Unfortunately, many of them, including several who served in high-ranking CPA posts, did not want to be identified by name because of fears of retribution from the Bush administration. I am thankful as well for information provided by senior officials at the White House, the State Department, and the Pentagon, most of whom also did not want to be named but did want me to develop a fuller, and more critical, understanding of the CPA.

  I also could not have written this book without the generous support and encouragement of the editors and executives of The Washington Post. Their commitment to covering events in Iraq has been, I believe, without parallel in American journalism. In June 2003, on my first visit back to Washington after the liberation of Baghdad, Don Graham, the Post’s chairman, pulled me aside and told me that the paper would do whatever was necessary to ensure my safety and that of my colleagues. And it did.

  Executive Editor Len Downie and his managing editor while I was in Iraq, Steve Coll, are two of the very best in the news business. With the support of the Post’s publisher, Bo Jones, they created a climate within the newspaper that encouraged my colleagues to produce excellent journalism about America’s involvement in Iraq. Phil Bennett, who was the paper’s assistant managing editor for foreign news and is now managing editor, deserves special gratitude. He is a brilliant editor, a mentor, and a friend. When others were focused on the bang-bang of military operations, he encouraged me to keep my sights on Bremer and the CPA.

  Reporting from—and living in—Iraq is impossible without the help of Iraqis. The Post has been fortunate to have an amazing team of Iraqis working as interpreters, drivers, and guards. They put their lives on the line every day to help me understand what was really happening in their country. For that, and so much else, I am eternally grateful to Dhia Ahmed, Khalid Alsaffar, Omar Assad, Naseer Fadhil, Sabah Fadhil, Omar Fekeiki, Falah Hassan, Moyad Jabbar, Muna Jawad, Mohammed Mahdi, Rifaat Mohammed, Mohammed Munim, Jawad Munshid, Fawziya Naji, Saif Naseer, Ghazwan Noel, Naseer Nouri, Muhanned Salem, Saad Sarhan, Bassam Sebti, and Ahmed Younis.

  I was privileged to work with some of the Post’s very best correspondents and photographers in Baghdad, among them Andrea Bruce, Michel du Cille, Pam Constable, Steve Fainaru, Peter Finn, Bart Gellman, Theola Labbé, Molly Moore, Bill O’Leary, Lucian Perkins, Lois Raimondo, Michael Robinson-Chavez, Anthony Shadid, Jackie Spinner, Doug Struck, Kevin Sullivan, Karl Vick, Daniel Williams, and Scott Wilson. There is nobody better at covering the Arab world than Anthony Shadid, who became a wise guide and good friend.

  I was also blessed to have many friends, some old, some new, among the pack of journalists in Baghdad. They included Hannah Allam, Jane Arraf, Christina Asquith, Anne Barnard, Rym Brahimi, Thanassis Cambanis, Jill Carroll, Jack Fairweather, Lourdes Garcia-Navarro, Bill Glauber, Dan Harris, Caroline Hawley, James Hider, Larry Kaplow, Birgit Kaspar, Laura King, Jacki Lyden, Evan Osnos, Catherine Philp, Alissa Rubin, Somini Sengupta, Christine Spolar, and Nick Watt.

  The conflict in Iraq has claimed the lives of too many good people, among them three friends: United Nations diplomat Sergio Vieira de Mello, Boston Globe correspondent Elizabeth Neuffer, and aid worker Marla Ruzicka. I miss them dearly.

  In Washington, I was grateful for the wisdom and assistance of several Post colleagues, particularly Karen DeYoung, Bradley Graham, Glenn Kessler, Dana Priest, Tom Ricks, Peter Slevin, Josh White, and Robin Wright. Foreign Editor David Hoffman helped me conceptualize stories and then deftly edited them. Others on the Foreign Desk were invaluable, including Nora Boustany, John Burgess, Ed Cody, Peter Eisner, Ginny Hamill, Tiffany Harness, Lou Ann McNeill, Emily Messner, Andy Mosher, Tony Reid, Keith Sinzinger, Dita Smith, and Robert Thomason. Many others at the Post have provided good counsel and friendship over the years, among them Glenn Frankel, Tracy Grant, Fred Hiatt, David Ignatius, and Keith Richburg.

  Two institutions in Washington granted me fellowships that provided me a place to write the book and, more important, share ideas with smart people. The first was the International Reporting Project at the Johns Hopkins School for Advanced International Studies. Director John Schidlovsky and his staff—Jeff Barrus, Louise Lief, and Denise Melvin—gave me a welcome home upon my return from Baghdad. I also benefited greatly from my interactions with eight smart young journalists who were IRP fellows: Ryan Anson, Aryn Baker, Adam Graham-Silverman, Raffi Khatchadourian, Cathryn Poff, Fernanda Santos, Kelly Whalen, and Mary Wiltenburg.

  The second was the Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars, where I am grateful to Director Lee Hamilton as well as to Haleh Esfandiari, Steve Lagerfeld, Michael Van Dusen, and Sam Wells. My research assistant there, Tiffany Clarke, provided invaluable help in poring through reams of government documents.

  The Wilson Center is where I met Sarah Courteau, a whip-smart editor at the Wilson Quarterly. Sarah spent countless hours reading and editing, and rereading and reediting, my manuscript. Without her sagacious suggestions, this book would be far less readable. I am eternally grateful for her help, and for her friendship.

  This book would never have been printed had David Ignatius not introduced me to my agent, the indomitable Rafe Sagalyn, who patiently guided me through my first foray into book writing. Rafe’s team, including Eben Gilfenbaum, Amy Rosenthal, and Bridget Wagner, provided valuable assistance along the way.

  At Knopf, Jonathan Segal and Sonny Mehta helped to shape my sprawling reporting into a defined narrative about the Green Zone. It was a privilege to work with Jon, whose extraordinary intelligence and enthusiasm for a good story is matched only by his skill with an editor’s pencil.

  My friends provided support, encouragement, and endless good meals to help keep me sane during my months of writing. I am especially indebted to Mike Allen, Peter Baker, Katia Dunn, Susan Glasser, Mike Grunwald, Spencer Hsu, Dafna Linzer, Leef Smith, and Anne Marie Squeo. Nurith Aizenman and Theresa Everline not only helped read sections of the manuscript, but they spent hours on end helping me shape my outline. Elizabeth Terry, another dear friend, provided great advice throughout.

  If not for her willingness to help dig out a photo of Michael Battles from Fortune magazine’s archive, I never would have met the wonderful Julie Schlosser. Getting to know her was even more fun than finishing the book.

  Above all else, I am thankful to have such a wonderful family. To my brother, Ravi, his wife, Jennie, and my parents, Uma and Kumar: much love and gratitude.

  NOTES

  This book is the result of nearly two years of reporting in Iraq for The Washington Post, beginning with my first trip to the country in September 2002. I lived in Baghdad almost continuously from November 2002 until the start of the American-led invasion in March 2003. I returned on April 10, 2003, the day after the statue of Saddam was felled in front of the Palestine Hotel, and I resided in Iraq full-time until September 30,2004. Although I had a few brief holidays, by my count I spent more days in Iraq during the fifteen-month occupation than almost any other American print reporter.

  I continued reporting for this book upon my return to the United States, holding additional conversations with people I had first met in Iraq and conducting interviews with dozens of others whom I had been unable to speak with while they were resident in the Green Zone. I have also pored through thousands of pages of internal CPA e-mail messages and documents in an effort to develop a fuller understanding of the occupation.

  Although some of the material in my narrative has appeared in different form in the Post, much of my account is based on more than one hundred original interviews conducted exclusively for this book. Because of concerns about retribution, several of my sources requested
not to be identified by name; in those cases, I have tried to be as specific as possible about their role in the CPA or the U.S. government without compromising their identity.

  I have benefited greatly from the reporting of my Post colleagues, in particular Thomas E. Ricks, Anthony Shadid, and Robin Wright, as well as from the outstanding research and interpretation services provided by Khalid Alsaffar, Omar Fekeiki, Naseer Nouri, and Bassam Sebti in the Post’s Baghdad bureau.

  Unless cited below, all statements quoted in the book are from interviews with me or public sources. Where conversation is recounted, it is on the basis of the memory of at least one person who could hear what was said. Although memories do slip, and recollections differ even among eyewitnesses, I have attempted to describe past events as accurately as possible.

  2 A Deer in the Headlights

  President George W. Bush: Bob Woodward, Plan of Attack (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2004), p. 2.

  Feith’s office conducted its postwar planning: In addition to my own reporting, I gleaned insights from James Fallows’s article “Blind into Baghdad,” The Atlantic, January 2004.

  As soon as Garner left: Dan Morgan, “Deciding Who Builds Iraq Is Fraught with Infighting,” The Washington Post, May 4, 2003.

  3 You’re in Charge!

  Among them was L. Paul Bremer III: In his book My Year in Iraq (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2006), Bremer writes that he was contacted about serving in Iraq by I. Lewis “Scooter” Libby, Dick Cheney’s chief of staff, and by Paul Wolfowitz.

  4 Control Freak

  Bremer would later write: Bremer, My Year in Iraq, p. 10.

  Shortly after Bremer arrived: This meeting was described to me by two people with direct knowledge of the conversation.