CHRONICLE OF A WAR FORETOLD

Before the 2003 invasion of Iraq it was always assumed that Saddam’s lack of full cooperation was because he refused to give in to the demands of the United States and the United Nations and was determined to retain Iraq’s WMD program. It would turn out that the Iraqi regime, despite all its games, did actually fully disarm its WMD capability in the years between 1991 and 2003. Tariq Aziz, Saddam’s long-serving foreign minister, once asked a senior member of the UN’s inspection team, UNSCOM, “You know why we never can allow you to certify that we’ve rid ourselves of our weapons of destruction, don’t you?” The UN official replied incredulously that this was the entire purpose of the inspections, and that once free of the stigma, Iraq could come in from the cold. Aziz replied, “The Persians and the Jews.” For Saddam, in other words, sustaining the fear that he possessed WMD was all about deterring Iran and Israel, two countries that he considered mortal enemies. The Iraqi regime under Saddam neither wanted to appear unarmed nor suffer the humiliation of appearing to capitulate in full to the demands of the international community—and this was a game they may have been able to continue to play for many more years if it had not been for September 11.
On September 11, the threat perception of the United States and the United Kingdom changed dramatically, and their response would change the world. A new inspection commission, the United Nations Monitoring, Verification and Inspection Commission (UNMOVIC), had been established in December 1999 to replace UNSCOM, with a new head in Hans Blix, the former director general of the International Atomic Energy Agency. For the first two years, however, the inspections issue lay largely dormant in the Security Council. Soon after the United States presidential election in 2000, at the urging of the Bush administration, the focus of the Security Council returned with a fierce momentum to the issue of forcing Saddam’s compliance. Within weeks of the attacks of 9/11, foreign leaders were expressing their concern to me that the United States would set its sights on Iraq and Saddam, with the Indian prime minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee telling me in mid-November that an attack would “destroy an anti-terrorist coalition which was still very fragile.” And in January, George W. Bush delivered his State of the Union Address, which described Iraq as part of an “axis of evil.” To many, the war was already in motion.
It was clear that a new resolve had taken hold in Washington—a determination to see Saddam disarmed definitively. In late February, I met with two senior British diplomats and warned them that if the United States were to extend its war against terrorism to Iraq, many member states, including some European countries and Canada, would require the Security Council to authorize any action. A few days later, one of them came back to see me to caution me that the United States was determined to have the resolutions completely obeyed, or to “have the regime out.” When I responded that Saddam had a habit of miscalculating, he replied that “either they will get rid of the capability or they will get rid of him.”
But what was also clear even to the most ardent opponents of military action was that the current strategy wasn’t working: the sanctions could never be made “smart” enough to spare the Iraqi people from continued suffering; nor were they robust enough to ensure with certainty that Baghdad wasn’t finding ways to rearm in contravention of its obligations to the Security Council.
On the other side of the debate, the French, the Chinese, the Russians, and the Germans became over time evermore determined to prevent the unilateral use of force by the United States as something they considered fundamentally inimical to the international system and the role of the Security Council in peace and security. Over the following year, the negotiations for a new resolution gained speed with both sides insisting on their own interpretation of what was acceptable. I began to host a regular series of private lunches for the ambassadors of the permanent five members to seek a strong dialogue, if not actually an agreement that would have to be sought at the head-of-state level.
In early September 2002, I received a call from Joschka Fischer, the German foreign minister, who expressed his concern about the path we were on. I let him know that, based on my conversations with a range of leaders, there was a growing unease about the impact preemptive action taken by one state would have on international law. “What precedent does it set?” I emphasized that support given by the United Nations for military action would bestow both legitimacy and legality on anything done with respect to Iraq. Later that month, George W. Bush came to the General Assembly and made a powerful statement about Saddam’s violations of multiple resolutions of the Security Council. My answer in my own address to the Assembly was that there was no alternative for the legitimate use of force than through a united Security Council and that there was still time to seek a peaceful way out. After the meeting, I spoke with Tony Blair for whom the process of negotiating a new resolution wasn’t so much about achieving the disarmament goals. To him, above all, it was a test of the UN in the eyes of the United States: “a critical moment for the UN to persuade the U.S. that the UN has the wherewithal to be effective and relevant in the future.”
As negotiations over a resolution to authorize the return of UN inspectors to Iraq intensified, suspicions grew on all sides that this had a lot less to do with Iraq’s alleged weapons of mass destruction than the question of who would be the supreme arbiter of the legitimacy of the use of force in the international system. Specifically, the debate revolved around the one or two resolutions that would be needed to justify the use of force in the event that the Iraqis—as most expected—would fail to fulfill their obligations. Who would determine when they did fail to cooperate? And who would determine the consequences—one state or the Security Council as a body? As the United States pushed to assert its dominance over this process, France and other members of the Security Council pushed increasingly against it.
A key question arose around the degree of “automaticity,” namely, whether a material breach of the terms of the new resolution would result in the automatic endorsement by the Council of the use of force. President Chirac of France made clear to me, in a call on September 28, that France was prepared to use its veto to prevent such an outcome. Colin Powell then began an intense round of negotiations with his French counterpart Dominique de Villepin, and called me on October 4 to say that he was seeking “a bridge between them and us on automaticity.” He added that he had told de Villepin that it was no good for the two sides “to throw hand grenades at each other,” and that it was vital to find a solution that preserved “their equity and our equity.”
By mid-October, my own position was becoming more and more difficult to balance: I was increasingly caught between the strongly divergent interests of the most powerful members of the Council. On October 11, Colin Powell called me to remonstrate: “You’re taking the French line with two resolutions, my friend.” A week later he warned that “we have not given up our right to act with like-minded friends if necessary.” I was not taking the French line, of course; instead I was holding to the position that we needed an outcome backed by a united Security Council as the best solution. The same day, Foreign Minister Igor Ivanov telephoned to state Russia’s position: “If the resolution is aimed at strengthening the operation of the inspectors, we are ready to work constructively with them. But if it is aimed at creating a legal framework for military operations, it is unacceptable to us.” The divisions in the Council that had appeared after the brief unity following 9/11 had now turned into deep disputes between the parties’ negotiating positions.
At the end of October, Powell, in one of his many requests for me to convey how strongly Washington was wedded to its position, said that “what everybody needs to understand is that this is the best way to avoid war . . . If the French keep playing games,” Powell continued, “they will get exactly what he is trying to avoid.”
He concluded by saying: “We’re losing patience here and we have an election coming.” Over the next week, the focus was on achieving strong support for the resolution, and over the course of many calls, even Syria was persuaded to vote in favor, so that on November 8, resolution 1441 was passed unanimously. There was a genuine sense of achievement in the Council that day, a belief that through tough negotiations, the member states had found a formula that would preserve the prerogative of the Council while making clear to the Iraqis that time was running out on their games and obfuscations. I was, however, mindful of the seriousness of Washington’s purpose. On the eve of the vote, I spoke to Powell and in an exasperated voice he warned: “What you’re going to have to figure out is to get to the Iraqis somehow—and I am not sure anyone can get to Saddam—and tell him that we’re not looking to see how much he will be fooling around, but if he has made a strategic choice for cooperation. If he thinks he can rope-a-dope the inspectors again, he’s in for a shock.”
I made my own view clear on the question of “automaticity”—whether resolution 1441 contained provisions for an automatic response with military force in response to the establishment of a material breach of the resolution by the Iraqis. As I established in my statement after the vote: “What is important is that there are no triggers in this resolution, and the Council will be back to review what the inspectors bring them . . . How this crisis is resolved will affect greatly the course of peace and security in the coming years in the region, and the world.” The next day, I met with President Bush and praised him for taking the multilateral route. In private, he was as tough-minded as ever, but his response indicated that he also understood that resolution 1441 did not include provisions for the “automaticity” of military action. He stressed that any consequent military action would be “swift,” but emphasized that “if Saddam stiffs Blix in any way we’ll go back to the UN. Even if it’s over a paper clip. Seriously.” He then reflected on the situation in more emotional terms: “You, I, and others have the obligation to free people where we find that they are being tortured and killed . . . It brings tears to my eyes when I think about what the Iraqi people are going through.”
Soon Saddam was back to his intransigent modus operandi, even as UNMOVIC and IAEA inspectors were beginning their inspections. The Iraqi submission of a “full and complete declaration,” which they delivered with much fanfare in a twelve-thousand-page document turned out to be neither. The United States, just before Christmas, then began to hint at how widely it would define a further “material breach” on the part of Iraq. This received the predictable response from Paris and, on January 20, French foreign minister Dominique de Villepin stated that under no circumstances would France allow the Council to authorize war with Iraq. It had already been planned that the United States would soon formally and fully make its case to the Council that Iraq was in material breach of the Council’s resolutions, and lines were clearly being drawn by the French in preparation for this. The disparate British attempt to secure a second resolution—something Washington never believed it needed—was coming apart. In the region, major countries were already beginning to worry about the aftermath of a war in Iraq. When I spoke to the Saudi foreign minister Prince Saud at the end of January, he warned that there was “potential for tremendous chaos in Iraq.” It would be a “windfall for the terrorists,” he added, since they could “go in and plant roots.”
Washington’s decision to send Powell to make the case to the Council and the world on February 5 was bold. What it did without question was underline the centrality of the United Nations as the indispensable forum for the management of global peace and security issues. As I heard Colin set out the evidence as the Americans saw it, I was impressed with his delivery but I was most concerned about the substance. He did not produce any evidence of the “smoking gun” variety, despite effectively claiming to possess such evidence. Worse, I was not alone in thinking that Powell himself did not appear as though he entirely believed his own case. He seemed to be saying it purely for raisons d’état. While the other Security Council foreign ministers delivered their own prepared statements in response to Powell at the official meeting, it was during the lunch I hosted for the members of the Council afterward that the most penetrating debate took place.
The German foreign minister Joschka Fischer started by stating that there was “total unanimity that Iraq must disarm and must do so proactively.” I added that the inspectors now had a clear set of tasks and, while the Security Council had its resolutions before it, it “may have to come to a time when the Security Council will have to decide on a material breach and will have to decide on the serious consequences.” I added that “the time may come when we have to take some tough decisions based on what the inspectors say.”
The tension between Colin Powell and Dominique de Villepin was evident for all to see. In an impatient, exasperated tone, Colin asked de Villepin what exactly he had meant in his statement earlier in the Council about providing more help for the inspectors. De Villepin then launched into an extensive monologue about the alternatives to conflict and the fact that Iraq was but one of many proliferating countries, and noted that “we should find a different way than military action—we do not believe that military action can be so virtuous as to create democracy in the Middle East.” He continued by stating that the UN had to be central to any next step, as “no country could win the war and win the peace as well. I do not believe we can go to war based on suspicions and evasions. I am asked how long a delay should be acceptable in terms of the inspections. I ask how long will it be to regain the peace? I ask, how will this affect terrorism, how will this affect other proliferators? We are facing other issues: North Korea, Iran, Middle East.” De Villepin closed by saying that France would not accept “automaticity.”
I could see Colin balancing his frustration with Dominique with an admiration for his eloquence and the way he had set out the case against war. He replied sharply: “I did not ask about the use of force. I asked about what you meant about adding to the number of inspectors.”
At this point, Russian foreign minister Ivanov intervened to separate the issues into the question of WMD; the nature of Saddam’s regime; and what he called “emotions.” He added in an aside that while the president of Pakistan, Pervez Musharraf, was in Moscow for the first bilateral summit in thirty years, he was not sure if there were more al Qaeda in Pakistan or Iraq (this then triggered the Pakistani foreign minister’s launch into an impassioned defense of his country). Fischer sought to bring the sides together by appealing to Ivanov to use the Russian influence with the Iraqis, noting, “Igor, you are working with them.” Ivanov replied that they had also worked with Miloševic, to which Colin replied, “Igor, you need to find some new friends. It’s over.”
In a moment that brought the gravity of the moment firmly into to the room, Colin asked to speak again. He started by saying that “my credentials are solid with this group. I have looked here for a peaceful solution, and there is still time for a peaceful solution. We all await the report on the fourteenth, and it will tell us if there is progress or something else. Nobody wants war; the United States does not want war; the president does not want war; I do not want war. I believe I can say in fairness that I know more about war than anyone in this room. I’ve lost friends in war; I’ve fought in two wars; I’ve commanded wars. The last thing I want is another war. You know how I am characterized in the press, as a ‘reluctant warrior’ or a ‘dove.’ I have no problem with that label.”
Colin continued: “However, I don’t accept the premise that wars always lead to bad results. Yes, the unavoidable and unintended consequences have to be considered carefully, as in the case of the legacy of the wars in Afghanistan. However, other conflicts have different lessons—lessons of good—coming out of them.”
At this point, Joschka Fischer interjected: “And we are the best example of that.”
Colin concluded: “If it comes to conflict, and the United States finds itself in a position to lead a coalition, under UN authority, or a coalition of the willing, the U.S. understands the obligation it has, the prospects of turmoil and unintended consequences, understands fully the responsibility to leave the area in a better state. If conflict comes, we will not look away, and Iraq and the region will be better off. However, our preference remains peace, not war.”
I have recounted this exchange in detail because it captures, as few other moments do in that year of extraordinary drama and diplomatic maneuvering, the depth of passions, and the way in which the question of Iraq became about something far larger: the foundations of peace and security, and the place of the United Nations as the sole legitimate authority to endorse the use of force except in cases of self-defense. Over the next month, I was in nearly daily contact with the leaders of a dozen countries or more, including Tony Blair, George W. Bush, and Jacques Chirac. On February 21, I was in Paris as part of a tour of European capitals and called Bush to give him my own unvarnished assessment of the mood there. I pointed out that the leaders and peoples of Europe who were demonstrating in large numbers had no interest in the survival of Saddam Hussein, but rather were concerned with the way the use of force was being contemplated. Bush, in response, made clear to me the prism through which he had come to see the challenge. He said that “Saddam Hussein is a brutal dictator who tortures his people, and he is a threat to the United States and the world. Without Saddam, the world will be a safer place.” He added that U.S. military action would bring about the “liberation of Iraq.”
On February 24, France, Germany, and the Russian Federation issued a joint memorandum to be circulated among the members of the Security Council on the Iraq situation. “The combination of a clear program of action, reinforced inspections, a clear timeline and the military build-up provide a realistic means to reunite the SC and to exert maximum pressure on Iraq.” On March 5, the foreign ministers of France, Germany, and Russia met in Paris and announced that they “would not let a resolution pass that would authorize force.” Two days later, during one of my regular briefings with Blix and ElBaradei, Hans told me that the Iraqis had stopped destroying the missiles under UNMOVIC supervision. It seemed to be clear by then that the die was cast.
On March 10, I spoke at a conference in The Hague and made clear in response to a question that the Council faced a momentous choice and that an attack on Iraq without Council authorization would be in breach of the Charter. Chirac, on the same day, stated explicitly that France would veto a resolution that would automatically lead to war, explaining that he did not believe war was the means to the disarmament of Iraq. On the same side as France were other strong allies of the United States, including Mexico and Chile. The Mexicans made clear to me during numerous calls that they were under immense pressure from Washington to support the action. For them, however, something far greater was at stake. As Luis Derbez, the foreign minister of Mexico told me in a call on March 13, they simply could not support “a decision allowing unilateral action and the authority to go to war.” Reflecting on the history of his continent, he added that he had told Powell that Mexico could not “allow the UN to justify toppling a government.”
Time was running out, however, and with or without the UN the United States and its allies were on a course for war. On the eve of the Azores Summit, a meeting among the United States, the UK, and Spain, Blair called me to say that he could not “see a way out of the impasse.” The day after, following a call from Colin Powell stating that the United States had made the decision to invade, I authorized the withdrawal of all remaining UN personnel from Iraq, and three days later, the invasion began. War had come to Iraq, once again.
The decision by the United States and its allies to proceed with the invasion of Iraq without Security Council authorization was a defeat for all of us who had sought to ensure that Iraq’s defiance of the United Nations was met by a united and effective response. But it was a vindication, too, of principle over power. Members of the Council, including close allies and neighbors of the United States, had insisted on the prerogative of the United Nations Security Council to decide under international law whether a member state was in material breach of the Council’s resolutions, and what the consequences should be.
Amid the exhaustion and exasperation, the sense of countless hours of diplomacy spent in vain, and an impending gloom about the consequences of a unilateral war, the United Nations had stood up for itself, and its founding principles. It would matter little to the world—and to the people of Iraq—in the months and years to come, but far worse would have been a rubber stamp for a war fought on false premises. From such a misjudgment, the road back to credibility and legitimacy in the eyes of the world would have been far harder.