Duty: Memoirs of a Secretary at War

by Gates, Robert M

  Ayatollah Khamanei, Iran’s “supreme” leader, had weighed in publicly on February 8, warning that Iran would retaliate against our interests if attacked by the United States. At the same time, the commander of the Iranian Revolutionary Guards navy announced the test-firing of an antiship missile “capable of sinking a large warship.” Trying to downplay its significance, I told the press at a NATO defense ministers meeting in Seville that we had watched the test, and “other than that, I think it’s just another day in the Persian Gulf.”

  About the same time, the administration went public with evidence that the Iranians were supplying sophisticated IED bomb-making materials to Iraqis trying to kill our troops. We couldn’t prove that the most senior Iranian leaders knew about this, but I found it inconceivable that they did not; I was eager for us to be even more aggressive in picking up their agents—or killing them—in Iraq. Tensions with Iran rose further in March 2008, when the Iranian Revolutionary Guards navy seized fifteen British sailors and marines accused of intruding into Iranian territorial waters. (I immediately directed that no U.S. sailors or Marines were to patrol or board other boats in the Gulf without cover from helicopter gunships or without a U.S. warship within firing range. I wasn’t about to risk any of our sailors or Marines falling into Iranian hands.) Four days later the United States began a naval exercise in the Gulf, including two aircraft carriers and a dozen other warships—it was the first time two carriers had held a joint exercise in the Gulf since 2003.

  These actions set off another round of speculation that President Bush was laying the groundwork for attacking Iran. The Economist speculated that Bush “might not be prepared to leave office with the Iranian question unresolved.” In an editorial, the magazine explained why Bush might act:

  One is Iran’s apparent determination to build nuclear weapons, and a fear that it is nearing the point where its nuclear programme will be impossible to stop. The second is the advent of Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, a populist president who denies the Holocaust and calls openly for Israel’s destruction: his apocalyptic speeches have convinced many people in Israel and America that the world is facing a new Hitler with genocidal intent. The third is a recent tendency inside the Bush administration to blame Iran for many of America’s troubles not just in Iraq but throughout the Middle East.… Given his [Bush’s] excessive willingness to blame Iran for blocking America’s noble aims in the Middle East, he may come to see a pre-emptive strike on its nuclear programme as a fitting way to redeem his presidency.

  Frankly, I shared some of The Economist’s concerns. One thread running through my entire time as secretary was my determination to avoid any new wars while we were still engaged in Iraq and Afghanistan. Remember the old saw “When you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop digging”? Between Iraq and Afghanistan, I thought the United States was in a pretty deep hole. Were we faced with a serious military threat to American vital interests, I would be the first to insist upon an overwhelming military response. In the absence of such a threat, I saw no need to go looking for another war. I kept a 1942 quote from Winston Churchill in my desk drawer to remind me every day of certain realities: “Never, never believe any war will be smooth and easy, or that anyone who embarks on the strange voyage can measure the tides and hurricane he will encounter. The statesman who yields to war fever must realize that, once the signal is given, he is no longer the master of policy but the slave of unforeseeable and uncontrollable events.”

  I therefore opposed military action as the first or preferred option to deal with the Syrian nuclear reactor, to deal with Iran’s nuclear program, and later, to intervene in Libya. I was convinced Americans were tired of war, and I knew firsthand how overstretched and stressed our troops were. There were those inside the Bush administration, led by Cheney, who talked openly about trying to resolve problems—like ours with Iran—with military force before the end of the administration. I’d been told that some at State believed that if the Israelis struck Iran militarily, always a possibility, there likely would be a regional conflict, so we should “do it” ourselves. Bush fortunately opposed such actions. But I wasn’t entirely sure where he stood at the time, and so I consistently opposed anything that might draw us into a new conflict.

  During my time in the Bush administration, I worried about the influence of the Israelis and the Saudis in the White House, particularly Prime Minister Olmert and King Abdullah, and their shared desire to have problems like Iran “taken care of” while Bush was still president. Cheney had a very close relationship with both men, so they had a direct pipeline into the White House. As I said, the president also had very high regard for Olmert as well as a good personal relationship with the king. Between April and August 2007, I would have extremely frank discussions with both those foreign leaders.

  On April 18, 2007, I arrived in Israel. I met with both the defense minister and the foreign minister in Tel Aviv and the next day drove to Jerusalem to meet with Olmert. The drive has always fascinated me, in no small part because as you wind through the hills, you can see the wreckage of military vehicles that have been preserved since the 1948 war—a reminder of the security threat Israel has faced for its entire modern existence. The drive is also a reminder of how small Israel is. Olmert and I met privately (with one associate each) in his rather spartan office for most of our time together. It was our first encounter, and he was very gracious. With respect to Iran, we agreed on the importance of continuing to share intelligence on the nuclear program and reviewed the impact of sanctions and other measures to delay the program. Olmert left no doubt that Israel saw a nuclear-armed Iran as an existential threat—as was Syria’s reactor—and would not allow the program to succeed. He agreed that there was still time for sanctions and other pressures on Iran to work, but he insisted that all options had to remain on the table. I agreed with that, but there was no discussion of military planning or options.

  We talked at length about Israel’s security, and I pledged that the United States would ensure that Israel maintained its qualitative military edge (QME) over any potential regional adversaries by providing them with some of our most sophisticated military equipment, including tactical aircraft, weapons, and missile defenses. We agreed to set up a mechanism to address Israel’s QME concerns. I asked Olmert not to oppose the sale of military equipment, including weapons, to Saudi Arabia. In arguments that I would use for the next four-plus years, I urged him to think more strategically about the region; that Saudi Arabia was focused on the threat from Iran, not on acquiring capabilities to threaten Israel. When I left Jerusalem, I well knew that there were different clocks ticking on the Iranian nuclear program. The challenge was how to slow down both the Iranian nuclear and the Israeli military clocks, while speeding up the sanctions/pressure clock.

  My opportunity for candor with King Abdullah came three months later. In a rare, if not unprecedented, joint trip of the secretary of state and secretary of defense, Condi and I met up in Sharm el-Sheikh, Egypt, on July 31 to meet with President Hosni Mubarak and other Egyptian officials, and then meet with our counterparts from the Gulf Cooperation Council (a political and economic union consisting of Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, Kuwait, Oman, Qatar and the UAE), as well as representatives from Egypt and Jordan. Our joint participation was intended to send several messages—above all, the importance of all the governments involved to work together to support the Iraqi government and to oppose Iranian activities in the region. We knew a number of the attending governments were deeply worried about the United States withdrawing from Iraq too soon, and we could provide reassurance on that score. We also wanted our joint appearance to hammer home the message that the U.S. Departments of State and Defense were working with the same agenda. The stage was set for the trip with the announcement in Washington the day before the meeting that the Bush administration would propose ten-year military assistance packages of $20 billion for Saudi Arabia, $13 billion for Egypt, and $30 billion for Israel. One unintended consequence of the
highly unusual joint travel of the secretaries of state and defense was that nearly everyone in the region thought we were coming to tell them we were going to attack Iran. All the governments but one—which will become clear momentarily—were relieved when we made clear that that wasn’t the case.

  After the meetings in Sharm el-Sheikh, Condi and I flew together on my plane to Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, to meet with the king. Our meeting with the king at his palace was preceded by a sumptuous banquet. The room where we ate was the equivalent size of five or six basketball courts, with an Olympic-size pool in the middle. The buffet must have had fifty or more dishes. But the most striking aspect of the room was a floor-to-ceiling aquarium, about 50 to 75 feet across and 30 feet high, that formed the wall behind where we dined. Among the many kinds of fish in the tank were a number of big sharks. When I asked one of the Saudis how they prevented the sharks from eating the other fish, he replied that it was important to feed the sharks on a careful schedule.

  The king’s usual practice was to begin a meeting with a large delegation on both sides in attendance, and then for the guest(s) to ask to meet privately. Condi and I did so and had a long meeting with the king, with only an interpreter present. It was one of the most memorable meetings during my tenure as secretary. It was also the only encounter with a foreign leader in which I lost my cool. Abdullah, a heavyset man in his eighties with a history of health problems, was very sharp and did not mince words as he smoked one cigarette after another. He wanted a full-scale military attack on Iranian military targets, not just the nuclear sites. He warned that if we did not attack, the Saudis “must go our own way to protect our interests.” As far as I was concerned, he was asking the United States to send its sons and daughters into a war with Iran in order to protect the Saudi position in the Gulf and the region, as if we were mercenaries. He was asking us to shed American blood, but at no time did he suggest that any Saudi blood might be spilled. He went on and on about how the United States was seen as weak by governments in the region. The longer he talked, the angrier I got, and I responded quite undiplomatically. I told him that absent an Iranian military attack on U.S. forces or our allies, if the president launched another preventive war in the Middle East, he would likely be impeached; that we had our hands full in Iraq; and that the president would use military force only to protect vital American interests. I also told him that what he considered America’s greatest weakness—showing restraint—was actually great strength because we could crush any adversary. I told him that neither he nor anyone else should ever underestimate the strength and power of the United States: those who had—Imperial Germany, Nazi Germany, Imperial Japan, and the Soviet Union—were all now in the ashcan of history. I was pretty wound up. And then we were done.

  Nearly four years later, in my last meeting as secretary with the king, he referred—smiling—to that discussion in Jeddah as the night I “turned the table over.” He told me that he had been seeking clarity from the United States on what we were likely to do about Iran and had been unable to get it—until that night. He said my candor demonstrated to him that he could trust what I said.

  Our efforts through the summer and fall to gain approval of more international sanctions—and pressure—on Iran and to persuade China and Russia, among others, to curtail their dealings with Iran were dealt a self-inflicted, grievous blow on December 3, 2007. U.S. intelligence agencies on that date issued a national intelligence estimate, Iran: Nuclear Intentions and Capabilities. The first sentence of the key judgments said it all: “We judge with high confidence that in fall, 2003, Tehran halted its nuclear weapons program.” It went on to say that Iran was keeping open the option to develop nuclear weapons and that, while it had not restarted the nuclear weapons program as of mid-2007, “we do not know whether it currently intends to develop nuclear weapons.” Because I believed the estimate would be leaked and quoted out of context, I recommended, and the president approved, that we issue an unclassified version of the key judgments. In my entire career in intelligence, I believe no single estimate ever did more harm to U.S. security interests and diplomatic efforts. Because in virtually all other countries of the world intelligence services work for the government in power and are expected to toe the official line, the independence of our intelligence community in preparing assessments is hardly understood at all. Accordingly, most governments wondered what in hell the Bush administration was up to in releasing an intelligence report that was directly at odds with the positions it had been taking diplomatically. My French counterpart, Defense Minister Hervé Morin, characterized the situation best when he told me that the intelligence estimate was “like a hair in the soup.”

  Then on January 6, 2008, a group of five small armed Iranian speedboats approached three U.S. warships in the Gulf at a high rate of speed. The rules of engagement for our Navy ships in the Gulf were clear: they were not to take actions that might be seen as provocative by the Iranians, but they were to do whatever was necessary to protect their ships. If the Iranians were to approach within a range considered threatening, the Navy was free to fire. The captain of one of our ships was within seconds of giving the order to fire when the boats turned away. After some back-and-forth with the White House, we released a video of the entire incident two days afterward. That same day I was on the phone with the president talking about a number of issues when he asked me what I would recommend if an Iranian fast boat, loaded with explosives, sank a U.S. warship. I gave him an initial response—still highly classified because it remains an active option—and we agreed we’d discuss it further.

  Just when I would begin to wonder what else could go wrong, something always did. A week or so later I met with the president to review senior military personnel issues and appointments through the end of the administration. It was clear that something was bugging Bush, and that was when he asked me, “What is it with these admirals?” As mentioned earlier, I knew he was unhappy with Admiral Mike McConnell, the director of national intelligence, for an interview he had given The New Yorker in which he characterized waterboarding as torture—always a sensitive subject with Bush. Then the president expressed concern as to whether the chairman of the Joint Chiefs, Admiral Mullen, and the Central Command commander, Admiral Fallon, would continue to support what he was trying to accomplish in Iraq after a new president was elected. If not, should he replace them while he still could? Bush was clearly miffed at some of the things Fallon had been saying about how the United States must not go to war with Iran and at what Mullen had been saying about Iraq preventing us from providing adequate resources to the war in Afghanistan. The next day the president took me by surprise when he told me he had asked Petraeus if he would like to take Central Command. Dave had said no, that he wanted to go to Europe and also didn’t want to push someone out prematurely. Soon afterward I got a call from Hadley, again about the “Navy guys.” I asked Steve if someone on the NSC staff was “gunning” for Fallon. He replied, “The president and vice president are very concerned.” I asked if it was because of his purported remarks on Iran. Steve said, “Yes, mainly.”

  A few weeks later Fallon called late in the afternoon to warn me that Esquire was going to publish an article about him in the next few days that likely would cause some heartburn. The press characterization of the article—usually more important in Washington than any article itself—was essentially that only Fox Fallon was keeping Bush from attacking Iran. It indeed caused heartburn and then some—mainly because it was untrue. It was clear, though, that the president had lost confidence in Fallon, the cumulative effect of a number of press statements that together seemed to portray a commander seriously at odds with his commander in chief on both Iraq and Iran.

  Three days later, on March 6, Mullen and I met with the president, who asked, “Do we have a MacArthur problem? Is he challenging the commander in chief?” To me, he said, “I know what you’d do if he challenged you.” I told Bush that he did not have a “MacArthur problem,” that Fallon wanted to come in
and apologize to him. The president responded, “No, I don’t want to humiliate the guy, but he kind of boxed me in.” When Mullen said that Fallon should volunteer to resign, Bush said, “But no signals, no coaching. If he acts, it needs to be without any pushing or hinting, solely on his own. He’s given a lot of distinguished service to the country.” He concluded, “Let’s let it ride and continue to think about it.” The president and I had another exchange on Fallon the next day. He said he had decided not to do anything and to wait and see if Fallon did “the right thing.” I replied, “At some point I may need to act. I can’t have a combatant commander who does not have the trust and confidence of the president.” Bush said, “I didn’t say I’d lost trust and confidence in him,” and I said, “Right. I would say he’s lost mine.” We agreed not to take any action for the time being.

  In truth, Fallon’s actions as a commander had been wholly consistent with administration policy, but his interactions with the press left a different, and unacceptable, impression. I received a very gracious, handwritten letter of apology from Fox on March 7 that also made clear that he hoped to retain his command. However, Admiral Fallon, probably with a nudge from Mullen, on March 11 sent the chairman and me an e-mail requesting approval to step aside as Centcom commander. “The current embarrassing situation, public perception of differences between my views and administration policy, and the distraction this causes from the mission, make this the right thing to do,” he wrote. Fallon had been in the job five days less than a year. Later in the day at a press conference, I praised his forty-plus years of service to the nation and concluded, perhaps stretching the truth a bit, that “Admiral Fallon reached this difficult decision entirely on his own. I believe it was the right thing to do even though I do not believe there are, in fact, significant differences between his views and administration policy.” Fallon, with great class, had done the right thing.