Hubris

by Michael Isikoff

  Some scientists were appalled at the idea that Turner (who held a bachelor’s degree in mechanical engineering) had become the arbiter on such a highly technical—and critical—issue. “He was not an expert in the sense that he sold himself,” said Houston Wood. “I think he was sort of in over his head.” An intelligence analyst who worked at the DOE’s Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory later noted that it was absurd that the DOE experts had been trumped by a CIA analyst. The Energy Department’s nuclear scientists, this analyst said, “are the most boring people. Their whole lives revolve around nuclear technology. They can talk about gas centrifuges until you want to jump out of a window. And maybe once every ten years or longer there comes along an important question about gas centrifuges. That’s when you really should listen to these guys. If they say an aluminum tube is not for a gas centrifuge, it’s like a fish talking about water.”

  Between July 2001 and July 2002, Turner and the CIA pumped out report after slanted report on the tubes—at least nine. Each argued that the high-strength aluminum tubes were compelling proof that a reconstituted Iraqi nuclear program was proceeding. These reports went to high-level Bush administration officials and the Oval Office—without mention of the other opinions.

  The Energy Department scientists and the State Department analysts—the dissenters—did not even see these reports. Wood was not aware that in the summer of 2002 the aluminum tubes issue was still in play. When the New York Times article on the aluminum tubes appeared, Wood, as he later put it, was “astounded.” He had thought the tubes argument “had been put to bed.” A CIA officer involved in the tubes episode called it a “perfect coming together of arrogance, incompetence, and basic human error. These screw-ups happen all the time, just not with consequences this enormous.”

  THE results of such screw-ups did not usually land on the front page of a national newspaper and become evidence cited by a vice president. But on Meet the Press Cheney was hailing the Times’ tubes story as Exhibit No. 1 that Saddam was going nuclear.

  The president’s goal in Iraq was not merely disarmament, Cheney told Russert; it was regime change. But, he added, “No decision’s been made yet to launch a military operation. Clearly, we are contemplating that possibility.” Realizing that the public case for war rested on the perceived strength of the intelligence he claimed to have, Cheney talked up the U.S. intelligence services: “In terms of the quality of our intelligence operation, I think we’re better than anybody else.”

  Other administration officials in media appearances that day reinforced Cheney’s chilling message, especially regarding the aluminum tubes. On CNN’s Late Edition, Rice declared Saddam a “danger to the United States” that “is gathering momentum.” She said there was “increasing evidence that he continues his march toward weapons of mass destruction.” She made the case sound beyond any doubt: “We know that he has stored…biological weapons.” But like Cheney, the only concrete evidence she cited were the aluminum tubes, asserting they were “only really suited for nuclear weapons programs.” Like Cheney, she didn’t mention there had been dissension within the intelligence community on the tubes. And echoing the dramatic rhetoric attributed to unnamed officials in Gordon and Miller’s article, Rice remarked, “We don’t want the smoking gun to be a mushroom cloud.”

  Speaking to reporters that morning, Powell also beat the WMD drum: “I can assure you that as you see the information come out in the days and weeks ahead, there is a solid case that he has weapons of mass destruction.”

  It was all about the intelligence. We know, we know—Cheney and the others were saying. But Democrats on the intelligence committee wanted more than such assurances. The day after Cheney appeared on Meet the Press, Senator Dick Durbin sent a letter to Tenet, again asking for a National Intelligence Estimate on Iraq’s WMDs. He also asked for an unclassified summary of this NIE so “the American public can better understand this important issue.” Durbin was demanding that Bush and the CIA show the intelligence committee the full and best information justifying war. And several other Democrats on the committee—Bob Graham, Carl Levin, and Dianne Feinstein—joined Durbin in his request. After Tenet received Durbin’s letter, the CIA began working on an estimate—on a rush basis.

  THE White House’s premiere of its anti-Iraq campaign had been well timed. In the days following the Sunday morning kickoff, the administration moved back and forth between 9/11-related concerns and its case against Iraq. On September 10, the White House announced that Cheney had spent the previous night at a secure, undisclosed location. Later that day, Attorney General John Ashcroft declared an orange terror alert—a scary reminder of the peril the country faced. Then, on the first anniversary of 9/11, Bush delivered an evening address from Ellis Island—chosen by White House image makers because it allowed Bush to use the Statue of Liberty as a dramatic backdrop. After honoring the fallen, he proclaimed, “We will not allow any terrorist or tyrant to threaten civilization with weapons of mass murder.”

  The next stop for the White House was the United Nations.

  Ahmad would always say, “It’s dangerous if you believe your own propaganda.”

  —AIDE TO IRAQI NATIONAL CONGRESS CHIEF AHMAD CHALABI

  3

  A Speech and a Spy at the United Nations

  THE DAY after he commemorated an emotional 9/11 anniversary, Bush appeared before thousands of diplomats at the United Nations. It was time to take the confrontation with Baghdad to the world stage.

  The General Assembly was holding its annual meeting, and it was customary for the American president to join the long line of national leaders delivering grandiose speeches to the body. Yet the diplomats before him, as well as the media, would be focusing on Bush’s specific words on Iraq. How aggressive might he be? How clear a signal would he send? Bush arrived with two specific aims: to prod the United Nations into moving against Iraq and to present an argument why the United States, and its allies, would be within its rights to strike Saddam if the United Nations dragged its heels. For the members of the White House Iraq Group—Card, Rice, Rove, Libby, and the others—this was a strategic moment. But to bolster Bush’s tough message, the White House, as before, was relying on some highly questionable evidence. In this case, it came from an especially dubious source: Ahmad Chalabi’s Iraqi National Congress. And once again, The New York Times and Judy Miller would serve as the conduit. This episode was a prime example of how some journalists and Iraqi exiles, working in tandem, helped to create favorable conditions for the White House sales campaign.

  SPEAKING beneath the olive branches and world map of the UN emblem, Bush claimed that Saddam—a brazen human rights abuser who had repeatedly not complied with UN resolutions related to disarmament—was a threat because he could supply anti-American terrorists “with the technologies to kill on a massive scale.” Iraq, he maintained, was expanding its biological weapons facilities and maintaining stockpiles of chemical weapons. He referred to Iraq’s attempts to buy high-strength aluminum tubes as proof Iraq had juiced up its nuclear weapons program. “Saddam Hussein’s regime is a grave and gathering danger,” Bush declared. He challenged the United Nations: “Are Security Council resolutions to be honored and enforced or cast aside without consequence? Will the United Nations serve the purpose of its founding, or will it be irrelevant?”

  In the middle of all the tough talk, there was a momentary hitch. For much of the address, Bush’s rhetoric could have been read as supporting immediate military action against Iraq. But Bush had come to the United Nations to announce that he would seek a new resolution that would give Iraq one more chance to comply with UN disarmament demands—or face the consequences. Bush’s decision to try for a new and strong Security Council resolution was a victory for Powell over Cheney and Rumsfeld. For weeks, there had been a fierce internal debate within the administration. Powell had been pushing for a multilateral approach. Blair had bluntly told Bush that he required a new UN resolution to sell the war to a skeptical British pub
lic. Cheney and his senior staff had been contemptuous of the idea of relying on the United Nations for anything and of the need to appease Blair. Bush in the end sided with Powell and Blair, and the final draft of the UN speech contained a key sentence stating the United States would seek a new Security Council resolution.

  To ensure against leaks, the sentence had been omitted from copies of the speech distributed to most staffers and agencies for review. And at the United Nations, a staffer had inserted the wrong draft into the TelePrompTer—the version without the key sentence. At the point in the speech when Bush was supposed to announce his support for a new UN resolution, he didn’t say it—and moved on.

  Back in Washington, senior aides watching the speech on TV were aghast. “What the hell happened?” one recalled thinking. Had Cheney and Libby gotten to Bush at the last minute? Bush, though, caught the mishap and ad-libbed: “We will work with the UN Security Council for the necessary resolutions.” That, too, was a gaffe: in the final approved text, Bush was supposed to call for only one singular resolution, not plural “resolutions.” Still, the sentiment was the same: at the end of the day, with or without the United Nations, Bush vowed, the United States would act.

  After the speech, Bush erupted at his staff for the TelePrompTer foul-up.

  WHILE Bush was speaking at the United Nations, Bill Murray, the CIA station chief in Paris, thought there might be a way to avert war—and that he could be the man to do it. A few weeks earlier, Murray had met with a secret source on Iraq. The man was a Lebanese journalist and a longtime, reliable asset for French intelligence. For months, the journalist had been tantalizing Murray with information about an unnamed high-ranking Iraqi official who might be willing to work with the Americans. Murray had repeatedly pressed for details. Finally, in late August, the journalist had disclosed the Iraqi’s identity: Naji Sabri, Saddam’s foreign minister.

  The journalist and Sabri were lifelong friends. Sabri hated Saddam, the journalist told Murray. The Iraqi dictator had killed his brother. The foreign minister wanted the regime gone. He might be willing to leave Iraq, to defect—if his family’s safety could be guaranteed. Sabri also was interested in playing a role in Iraq’s future, after Saddam was gone. That was important. After a war, the CIA might need a former regime official who was a Sunni. But Saddam’s foreign minister also wanted money. The journalist asked for $1 million, most of which he promised to pass along to Sabri. But a chunk would be for himself—for expenses and, of course, for his fee as the middleman.

  Murray was wary but intrigued. Sabri’s defection would be a crippling psychological blow to Saddam’s regime. Turning him into a CIA informant might be better. He could slip the agency reliable intelligence on what was going on inside Saddam’s regime. Perhaps he could help the agency sort out whether Saddam possessed WMDs or was in league with al-Qaeda.

  Murray, who had previously served as CIA station chief in Beirut, understood that extortionist money demands was how the game was played in the Middle East. It was all a question of bargaining, and $1 million was merely the first offer. More important, he already had some confidence in the journalist. In earlier meetings, the journalist had passed along good information he had received from Sabri, including a copy of Iraqi purchase orders for aluminum tubes being bought through front companies in Eastern Europe. The tubes had slightly different dimensions than the ones seized in Jordan the previous year. The journalist even got hold of two of the tubes—and handed them to Murray wrapped in burlap. The CIA officer sent the tubes to Langley, where they were passed to Joe Turner and other WINPAC analysts, who were excited to receive them. Whatever the significance of the new pair of tubes—the WINPAC guys naturally thought it strengthened their case—the transaction showed that the journalist could deliver.

  In their meeting in late August, Murray had told the jounalist that maybe the agency would cough up the money. But he declared that the CIA wouldn’t work through a cutout, that he had to meet with Sabri. In the meantime, Murray supplied the journalist with a series of questions to pose to Sabri. This would be a test of Sabri’s willingness to help the Americans. Most of the questions concerned the issue of greatest urgency to Washington. Murray wanted an accurate update on the state of Saddam’s WMD programs.

  At a subsequent meeting, Murray—after getting approval from headquarters—advanced the journalist $200,000 cash. And Murray had a request. The journalist had mentioned that Sabri might go to New York for the UN General Assembly session. Murray told him to have a few high-quality, hand-tailored suits made for Sabri. If Sabri wore one of the suits in New York, it would be a signal that the journalist was on the level and that Sabri was willing to cooperate with the CIA.

  After Bush finished his UN speech, Murray received a message: Sabri would be speaking at the General Assembly the following week. And he would be wearing one of the new suits. The Lebanese journalist was going to be in New York as well. Maybe a meeting between Murray and Sabri could be arranged. Murray immediately began making plans to fly to the United States—first to Langley to discuss the matter with the CIA brass and then to New York for a rendezvous where, he hoped, he could turn Iraq’s foreign minister into an American spy.

  WHAT the hell is this? That’s what John Maguire and Luis, the two covert action specialists who had drawn up the Anabasis plan for the CIA, were wondering after Bush finished his UN speech. For ten months, they had been led to believe that the White House was fully behind their covert project—and Anabasis meant war. Now they thought Bush might be shying away from that game plan and actually trying diplomacy at the United Nations. They were fretting over how this would play with the allies-in-sabotage they had developed in Iraq.

  Maguire had promised the two prominent Kurdish leaders, Jalal Talabani and Massoud Barzani, that war was coming. Bases had been set up in Kurdish-controlled territory, and planning for antiregime operations already had begun. (The bases were used mainly for operations mounted by the Iraq Operations Group, but occasionally Valerie Wilson’s operations officers at the Joint Task Force on Iraq would entice a source to a Kurdish base to discuss Saddam’s WMDs—or lack of them—with a CIA officer.) Talabani and Barzani, though eager to get rid of Saddam, had been hesitant to saddle up with Washington. They had seen the United States encourage rebellion in Iraq in the past and then abandon the rebels—leaving them to be killed by Saddam. At the conclusion of the Persian Gulf War, the first President Bush had urged a Shia uprising and then done nothing when Saddam slaughtered the insurrectionists. And in the mid-1970s, Washington, after joining with the shah of Iran in supporting a Kurdish rebellion against Saddam, had precipitously cut off assistance to the Kurds when Saddam and the shah cut a deal. The Kurds had been crushed by Baghdad. (Explaining this betrayal in congressional testimony, Secretary of State Henry Kissinger said, “Covert action should not be confused with missionary work.”) Forget the past, Maguire had assured Talabani and Barazani, it will be different this time.

  But when Bush was done speaking, Maguire thought, “Goddamnit, here we go again.” Soon the phone was ringing at the IOG office at the CIA. It was Talabani and Barzani in Kurdistan—and they were furious. Are you, they demanded to know, folding on us? Luis and Maguire tried to reassure the Kurds. Don’t read anything into this, the CIA men said, we’re not backing away; this is merely a necessary political maneuver. Maguire couldn’t be certain. He had no direct pipeline to the Oval Office. But he hadn’t lost faith in Bush’s commitment to war.

  BUSH’S decision to seek a new UN resolution was the big news of the day, but another significant development was the release of a major White House white paper on Iraq. The paper, entitled “A Decade of Deception and Defiance,” had been commissioned by the White House Iraq Group to back up the rhetoric within Bush’s UN speech. It had been drafted by Jim Wilkinson, a fast-talking former congressional staffer from Texas, who was deputy to White House communications chief Karen Hughes. The twenty-one-page document highlighted every aspect of Saddam’s brutality. There
were sections on Saddam’s human rights abuses, political repression in Iraq, and violence against women. In preparing the document, Wilkinson had relied mainly on public sources—State Department and human rights group reports, as well as press reports from various publications, including two New York Times articles. Some White House officials, though, were troubled by the report. One staffer at the time saw it as a “spin job” that made no effort to assess the relative credibility of the barrage of allegations.

  The document was the most extensive argument the administration had yet presented concerning the threat supposedly posed by Saddam. It maintained that Saddam was running a “highly secret terrorist training facility in Iraq known as Salman Pak, where both Iraqis and non-Iraqi Arabs receive training on hijacking planes and trains, planting explosives in cities, sabotage, and assassinations.” And it portrayed Iraq as a storehouse of banned weapons.

  Much of the weapons section focused on Iraq’s past and well-known WMD record, such as its production of biological weapons agents in the early 1990s before its BW program was seemingly dismantled under UN supervision. For instance, the paper noted that gaps in Iraq’s WMD accounting, previously identified by UN inspectors, “strongly suggest” that Iraq was stockpiling chemical weapons. This was a deductive case. But the white paper did zero in on three current signs that Iraq was dangerously active in the unconventional weapons business. It reported that Iraq was developing mobile biological weapons—an allegation the administration had not highlighted before—but no source was cited for this assertion. It cited the aluminum tubes as tangible evidence of an ongoing nuclear weapons program, using practically word for word the language of the September 8 New York Times piece by Gordon and Miller. And it referred to the chilling account of Adnan Ihsan Saeed al-Haideri, another Iraqi defector.