Bob Woodward

by State of Denial (lit)

  When the generals came over to the White House with him, Rumsfeld spoke first, introducing everyone, and explaining what they were going to talk about. Miller thought it sounded unnecessarily self-centered, as if Rumsfeld were the conductor leading his orchestra. It was worse for General Myers. Miller and Myers were longtime friends, and Miller could see his friend was suffering.

  Miller was also de facto chief of staff for the NSC deputies committee, which included the number two officials such as Wolfowitz, Armitage and McLaughlin. But there had been such chaos that he also had a weekly offline meeting with Card, Rice, Hadley and Vice President Cheney's chief of staff, I. Lewis Scooter Libby, to blow the whistle on the Pentagon and get them to nudge Rumsfeld. With the difficulties in getting information, Rice's orders to Miller were to work around it. If you can't do it through the front channels, call someone you know, and use the back channel. Miller thrived on his contacts in the Pentagon and among deployed forces. During his Pentagon years, Miller had known lots of officers who now wore three and four stars, and he counted many among his friends.

  Get it done any way, Rice ordered regularly. Fix it.

  Incredibly Rice found that Rumsfeld at times would not return her phone calls when she had questions about war planning or troop deployments. She complained to Rumsfeld, who reminded her that the chain of command did not include the national security adviser.

  Rice complained to the president.

  Bush's response was to try to be playful with Rumsfeld.

  I know you won't talk to Condi, Bush once teased Rumsfeld, but you've got to talk to her.

  Card was astonished.

  The whole scene would have been comic, Miller thought, if the issues hadn't involved war, life and death.

  12

  hadley had been working for several months on the transition of power in post-Saddam Iraq. There had been a lot of talk about making General Franks the proconsul for Iraq, and having everybody work for him. But the drawback was that it would put an occupation face on the U.S. presence. They didn't need a General MacArthur; they needed a civilian face for the leadership. Rice was appalled at the idea that they'd tell the Iraqis that their new president was going to be Tommy Franks. Create a MacArthur? she asked. She knew it wouldn't be tolerated by Bush or the Iraqis.

  But how to structure things, then? Hadley knew that Rumsfeld—and, of course, Feith—thought postwar Afghanistan was a failure. Rumsfeld would say that they had failed because they broke up responsibility for the postwar period in Afghanistan by parceling it out to individual countries. Germany was supposed to do police training. Italy was supposed to do the judiciary. Even within the U.S. government, they had parceled things out—State had its responsibilities, Treasury had other responsibilities—and the result was that Afghanistan was nobody's first priority.

  It was out of that experience, Hadley felt, that the idea of Garner's fledgling team had been born. The military term for postwar operations was Phase IV— stability operations —but the president wanted more than just stability in postwar Iraq. He wanted democracy, so Hadley pushed for a comprehensive postwar plan covering everything.

  The State Department had been working for a year on what was called the Future of Iraq project—thousands of pages of reports and recommendations on government, oil, justice and agriculture. Despite this effort, and contrary to his later assertions, Powell agreed that it was logical to give postwar responsibility to Defense. Rumsfeld would have the tens of thousands of troops on the ground, the money and resources. Powell, the military man, was instinctively drawn to a plan that respected the principle of unity of command. There had to be somebody— one somebody—ultimately in charge. It had to go to Defense. To Powell this was not out of the ordinary. It was what had been done after World War II in Germany and Japan.

  Hadley, the NSC staff and Feith had about a week to prepare a legal document laying out the Defense Department's authority.

  On January 20, 2003, President Bush signed a secret National Security Presidential Directive, NSPD-24. The subject: setting up an Iraq Postwar Planning Office within the Defense Department.

  Garner didn't have any input. A few days later when he went to work in a Pentagon office near Rumsfeld's, he read the four-page document, which was classified SECRET. It took his breath away.

  If it should become necessary for a U.S.-led military coalition to liberate Iraq, the directive began, the United States will want to be in a position to help meet the humanitarian, reconstruction, and administration challenges facing the country in the immediate aftermath of the combat operations. The immediate responsibility will fall on U.S. Central Command; overall success, however, will require a national effort.

  The new postwar office, Garner's office, would have responsibility for detailed planning across the spectrum of issues that the United States Government would face with respect to the postwar administration of Iraq. Included among these were all the security, economic and political issues.* Garner had thought he'd been recruited to play the role of a glorified chief of staff, but the presidential directive now gave him responsibility for all the tasks normally run by national, state and local governments in post-Saddam Iraq.

  The directive ordered that 10 federal agencies—everything from the CIA and the State Department to the Agriculture and Education Departments

  * The list included: (a) Assisting with humanitarian relief; (b) Dismantling weapons of mass destruction; (c) Defeating and exploiting terrorist networks; (d) Protecting natural resources and infrastructure; (e) Facilitating the country's reconstruction and protection of its infrastructure and economy; (f) Assisting with the reestablishment of key civilian services, such as food supply, water, electricity and health care; (g) Reshaping the Iraqi military; (h) Reshaping the other internal security institutions; and (i) Supporting the transition to Iraqi-led authority over time.

  —begin detailing experts to his office. They had to be sufficiently high-ranking—colonels, one-star generals and the highest levels of career civilian officials—to have the clout necessary to coordinate issues throughout their agencies when required.

  In the event of war, the directive stated, the Planning Office shall be deployed to Iraq to form the nucleus of the administrative apparatus that will assist in administering Iraq for a limited period of time.

  Garner went to see Rumsfeld after he'd had some time to absorb the NSPD.

  Here's what I think we have to have, he said. They needed people who would coordinate efforts in three large areas: reconstruction, civil administration and humanitarian affairs. Then they needed an operations group—something almost totally military—that would handle logistics: food, housing, physical security and transportation. Finally, they should divide the country into three divisions—a northern team, a southern team and a central team covering Baghdad and its outskirts.

  Do you think you can live with this? Garner asked. Rumsfeld agreed, although Garner could see his mind was on the upcoming invasion, not the aftermath.

  Garner found himself waking up at 2 a.m., dictating to-do lists. He realized he had been given an impossible task but the military man's can-do attitude prevailed over doubt. I thought this was going to be superhard, he told me later. But, he added, I never failed at anything.

  On Saturday night, January 25, 2003, President Bush attended the 90th annual Alfalfa Club dinner, an old-world, black-tie ritual named after the plant species that would do anything for a drink. The dinner, held at the Capital Hilton Hotel three blocks north of the White House, was a gathering of hundreds of the usual suspects from the top of the political and business worlds, including the president's mother and father.

  In brief remarks, President Bush told the audience that his mother had warned him not to joke about U.N. weapons inspectors in Iraq, and not to say anything about North Korea.

  So I finally said, 'Well, why don't you just give the darn speech?' So ladies and gentleman, I give you my mother.

  Barbara Bush, the Silver Fox, as her hus
band called her, then 77, took the floor. People never believe this, but he was the perfect child, she said. He'd put on his cowboy outfit and ... entertain himself for hours fighting the bad guys, or as he called them, 'The Axis of Evil.' Bush had memorably referred to Iran, Iraq and North Korea as an Axis of Evil in his 2002 State of the Union speech.

  I'll never forget the paper he wrote in fourth grade where he explained that in 1519 Ferdinand Magellan set out 'to circumcise the world.' She got a standing ovation.

  Later, mingling in the large crowd, the former first lady reached out to an old family friend, David L. Boren, the centrist former Democratic senator from Oklahoma who had been the chairman of the Select Committee on Intelligence during the presidency of George H. W. Bush. Boren was now the president of the University of Oklahoma but he was still plugged into Washington, not least through George Tenet at the CIA, who had worked for Boren on the Intelligence Committee. Tenet had impressed Boren greatly, and Boren became his patron, recommending him to President Clinton in 1992 and again to George W. Bush in early 2001.

  Boren and the elder George Bush had known each other for decades and were close friends.

  You always told me the truth, Barbara Bush opened, drawing Boren aside for a private chat.

  Yes, ma'am, Boren replied.

  Will you tell me the truth now?

  Certainly.

  Are we right to be worried about this Iraq thing?

  Yes. I'm very worried.

  Do you think it's a mistake?

  Yes, ma'am, Boren replied. I think it's a huge mistake if we go in right now, this way.

  Well, his father is certainly worried and is losing sleep over it. He's up at night worried.

  Why doesn't he talk to him?

  He doesn't think he should unless he's asked, Barbara Bush said. It was the father-son distance, she said, and he didn't think he should volunteer.

  Well, Boren responded, I understand the feeling of a father but he's a former president of the United States and an expert in this area.

  Barbara Bush shook her head solemnly, almost woefully.

  Later, Boren greeted Bush senior.

  Do you ever see our mutual friend, Colin? the former president asked.

  Just sometimes.

  Be sure to tell him I sure think he's doing a good job.

  Both men knew Powell was the reluctant warrior, trying to solve the Iraq problem with diplomacy.

  Yes, Mr. President, Boren said. I certainly will and I certainly think he is too.

  Lieutenant General John Abizaid, General Franks's deputy, was the U.S. military's senior Middle East expert. A member of the 1973 West Point class that just missed Vietnam, Abizaid, whose combat experience in Grenada was dramatized in the 1986 Clint Eastwood movie, Heartbreak Ridge, had done postgraduate sabbaticals at Harvard and the University of Jordan in Amman. He had learned Arabic, and his first visit to Iraq had been in the late 1970s.

  As director of the Joint Staff succeeding Vice Admiral Fry in 2001-02, Abizaid had felt the full blast of Rumsfeld's impatience, and often he just had to take the ass chewing. Sometimes he was nice about it, sometimes he wasn't nice about it, Abizaid told a colleague. I admire the man greatly even though I don't necessarily like him. . . . He's got a weakness in wanting to have his hands around everything. Okay?

  In early 2003, Abizaid was chatting informally with Spider Marks at the U.S. base in the Kuwaiti desert. The subject turned to the WMD master site list.

  What do you think, Spider? Abizaid asked. He put his arm around the ground forces intelligence chief's shoulders. What do you really think about these weapons of mass destruction sites?

  Sir, I don't give a shit, Marks said. It was a flippant reply to the higher-ranking general, but Marks had known Abizaid since they were both cadets at West Point, and sensed he wanted an honest opinion. Whether it's there or not—and I need to tell you, I can't confirm it's there—but whether it's there or not I still have to do something with that site. I'm going to have to put American men and women at risk to get in there and do something with that site.

  It was a stark reframing of the problem. With neither the time nor the resources to figure out with confidence whether there really were any WMD at the 946 sites on the list, Marks had to operate on the presumption that they were there. For the pragmatist generals on the ground who were poised to launch a war over Saddam's alleged WMD, ironclad proof that the weapons were there was getting less and less relevant.

  • • •

  In 1991, when Abizaid was a lieutenant colonel, he had commanded an infantry battalion under Garner during Operation Provide Comfort. Garner thought that Abizaid knew both the military mind and the Arab mind so well that he called him early for advice. He took notes on what his former subordinate said. What we've got to do is provide an opportunity for the Iraqi army to emerge with some honor. The army was largely Sunni and they couldn't be allowed to feel they were losing everything.

  Later, in an interview, Rumsfeld said he agreed with Abizaid's approach. He felt that way about the Sunnis, that we're losing control of the country, and constantly was looking to see that decisions were fair and representative of them.

  Garner agreed. The idea was to use the defeated Iraqi army for reconstruction, from rebuilding bridges to handling border and building security. Keep them busy. An idle army would be trouble.

  Abizaid warned him that the hard part would come after they defeated the Iraqi army. In the aftermath, Abizaid said, There's going to be a lot of terrorism. There's going to be a lot of things we have to put up with—disgruntled people, pockets of resistance and guerrilla activity.

  Near the end of January, Garner and his chief of staff, fellow retired three-star Army General Jared Bates, met with General Franks at the Pentagon. The three men were contemporaries. All had served as battalion commanders in Germany in the 1980s. They agreed it made sense for Garner and Franks both to report directly to Rumsfeld.

  You and I both work for the same boss, Franks told Garner, adding that he was concerned about the National Security Council process where the various departments and agencies tried to hammer out a consensus. What you've got to do is keep the interagency off my back for a while, Franks said, but keep them wired together where they're not destructive. He promised that after the major combat was over he would get Garner and his team into Iraq. But he offered a sobering assessment. I don't think you guys will be in there before about 60 to 90 days. Both Garner and Bates felt this was way, way too long to wait, but neither said anything.

  On January 28, Garner met with Zalmay M. Khalilzad, the NSC's senior director for the Gulf region, in the Eisenhower Executive Office Building next to the White House. Khalilzad had been born and raised in Afghanistan and had a Ph.D. from the University of Chicago. He was considered a neoconservative, having worked for Wolfowitz in the Reagan and Bush senior administrations.

  We need to form an advisory group of wise men who advise us on what needs to be done in order to turn the running of the Iraqi government over to the Iraqi people, Khalilzad told him. From all his conversations with everyone else so far, Garner had the strong impression that the U.S. plan was to set up a provisional government. Khalilzad was the first in the administration who was basically saying to him: No, we don't need one. What we need to do is get the Iraqis governing themselves as fast as possible.

  I agree with you, Garner said. He was encouraged by the conversation, as it squared with his idea of rapidly turning over power directly to Iraqis. Here was an ally.

  In the first full week of February 2003, Garner and Bates flew to Doha, Qatar, where Central Command was headquartered, to meet at greater length with Franks and Abizaid. This was Army old-home week for all. Bates felt particularly close to Abizaid. He'd been his superior in the 75th Ranger Regiment, serving as second in command of a Ranger battalion when Abizaid was a relatively young lieutenant in the same unit. Colonels and majors are the mentors to captains and lieutenants in the Army, and a former senior officer has
enduring status in the military club.

  Franks routinely denounced Doug Feith as the dumbest bastard, dumbest motherfucker on the face of the earth. He told Garner and Bates, I'm very comfortable with you two being in charge. Again, he repeated that he wanted them to keep Washington off his back. We understand trucks and ROWPUs, he said, referring to the Reverse Osmosis Water Purification Units, which could suck polluted water from a river and spew out thousands of gallons of fresh water. Franks was focused on the basic humanitarian issues.

  Bates saw that Abizaid understood precisely what the hard part would be. The Army Arabist was focused on Iraq after the war—what had to be done and how quickly it had to be done.

  A government had to be put in place, Abizaid said. We've got to get an Iraqi face on it. It's got to be a multiethnic face. A new government had to involve all Iraqis, not just Sunnis, Shiites and Kurds, but tribes and factions, he explained. Iraqis don't like us, he said, and they are not going to like us in their country. Bates appreciated the fact that Abizaid did not want to reduce the problem to a simple bumper sticker.

  But Abizaid expressed unhappiness with the way Washington was thinking its way through the postwar period. One rumbling he kept hearing was how much the Pentagon did not like Saddam's Baath Party. Fair enough. But if someone in Saddam's Iraq wanted a decent job, especially in government, that person almost had to be a member of the Baath Party. The United States, he said, was going to need Baath Party members to be involved in a new government.