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As I leave Baghdad, I carry a sense of Iraq’s resilience, the palpable scars of war, the warmth of its people, the hope for a better future, and the ongoing story of a nation rebuilding itself.
I arrived at the Taj Hotel in Baghdad's Jadriyah neighborhood at 6:00 am, worn thin by the long flight from Los Angeles. After sleeping until mid-afternoon, I stepped out into the 90°F heat on a simple mission: find falafel, fries, and a place to exchange money. A local bus picked me up and dropped me right across from a falafel shop—a small act of hospitality. Full and settled, I walked beside the Tigris River, watching construction cranes against the sky. Life was visibly moving forward. Yet the mental newsreel kept playing: bombs falling on these same banks 20 years earlier. I was a tourist now in a country I had once protested my own nation for invading. Needing to escape both the heat and the weight of those memories, I returned to the hotel for Nutella cake and Iraqi tea, yet deeply conscious of the complex layers beneath the surface.
The next day settled heavily. We started at Tahrir Monument and the roundabout where Saddam’s statue once stood—toppled in 2003 by US Marines in an image seen around the world. Today, no plaque marks the spot. Only election banners fluttered in the wind. From there, we traveled to the Arch of Ctesiphon, a soaring Persian vault from 540 AD. Nearby lay the relics of a different era: a derelict tourist complex and a museum designed by North Koreans, its walls scarred with bullet marks. Al-Mada’in, our guide remarked, had been a final stronghold against the invasion. It’s one thing to read about war and occupation, another to stand where it happened and touch the pockmarked concrete.
Just yards away, young boys kicked a soccer ball in the dust, a powerful scene of life insisting on moving forward. That contrast stayed with me: The tourist complex, once a thriving vacation spot with a luxurious pool, is now a place to store garbage. Aside from the enduring arch, the entire area lies in ruins, destroyed in the war and never rebuilt. Who knows if it ever will be. For some parts of Iraq, rebuilding only began around 2017, over a decade after the invasion. With elections approaching, I wondered about Iraq’s future—and what accountability looks like when destruction runs so deep.
A slower day followed, wandering through Old Baghdad: its bazaar, colonial facades, antique shops, Christian churches, and tea houses thick with the smoke of cigarettes. But I felt an unease seeing Saddam-era memorabilia, like old currency, sold as casual souvenirs. My time in Iraqi Kurdistan, at Amna Suraka and Halabja Memorial, had shown me the human cost of his brutal regime. Later, we passed the haunting cement skeleton of one of Saddam’s grand mosques, frozen mid-construction by the 2003 war. It stood empty, monumental yet abandoned, like a set from Dune—a stark metaphor for interrupted futures.
Now, as the world’s attention drifts to other conflicts, the weight of history here feels so obvious.
We traveled to Babylon. Before entering, we paused before one of the last remaining monuments to Saddam. His image is now outlawed; we gazed at the bullet marks and graffiti scoring the stone. Nearby, his palace loomed over the Euphrates—a hollow shell gazing across timeless dust. After roaming Babylon’s ruins, we crossed a low fence onto the palace grounds. Entering the space once occupied by a brutal dictator again filled me with unease. While others explored the looted, spray-painted halls, I was struck by the collision of histories here: ancient civilization, the US invasion, and the regime’s own atrocities against the Kurds.
From there, we journeyed to Karbala and the breathtaking Al-Abbas Holy Shrine. I wore an abaya to enter, humbled by the devotion, chanting, and crying that resonated in the air. The contrast stayed with me: between ransacked palaces of fallen power, land ravaged by war, and this enduring faith. We paused briefly at one of the world’s largest cemeteries in Najaf before visiting the Holy Shrine of Imam Ali. The long drive south to Nasiriyah that followed gave me space to hold all these layers: history, belief, silence, and dust.
A highlight came in the Mesopotamian Marshes. Gliding by water buffalo through vast wetlands, said to be the Garden of Eden, I felt a deep connection to this ancient ecosystem and the Indigenous communities who sustain it. The use of reeds to build entire homes felt like a quiet miracle. Later, we visited the Great Ziggurat of Ur—a stairway to a Sumerian sky. We moved through biblical landscapes that day, though in the distance stood an old American military base, now repurposed by the Iraqis. Someone showed me photos of US soldiers standing on those same Ziggurat steps.
As I leave Baghdad, I carry a sense of Iraq’s resilience, the palpable scars of war, the warmth of its people, the hope for a better future, and the ongoing story of a nation rebuilding itself. Now, as the world’s attention drifts to other conflicts, the weight of history here feels so obvious. The US footprint left in Iraq is deep—and as it threatens Iraq with sanctions, it is the last thing this country needs as it tries to move forward and heal.
The United Nations has now declared oil-rich Iraq, the land on which the Bush administration bet the future of our own country, to be the fifth most vulnerable to climate breakdown among its 193 member states.
It was one of the fabled rivers of history and the Marines needed to cross it.
In early April 2003, as American forces sought to wrap up their conquest of the Iraqi capital, Baghdad, and take strongholds to its north, the Marine Corps formed “Task Force Tripoli.” It was commanded by General John F. Kelly (who would later serve as Donald Trump’s White House chief of staff). His force was charged with capturing the city of Tikrit, the birthplace of dictator Saddam Hussein. The obvious eastern approach to it was blocked because a bridge over the Tigris River had been damaged. Since the Marines assembled the Task Force in northeastern Baghdad, its personnel needed to cross the treacherous, hard-flowing Tigris twice to advance on their target. Near Tikrit, while traversing the Swash Bridge, they came under fire from military remnants of Saddam’s regime.
Still, Tikrit fell on April 15 and, historically speaking, that double-crossing of the Tigris was a small triumph for American forces. After all, that wide, deep, swift-flowing waterway had traditionally posed logistical problems for any military force. It had, in fact, done so throughout recorded history, proving a daunting barrier for the militaries of Nebuchadnezzar II of Babylon and the Achaemenid Cyrus the Great, for Alexander the Great and Roman Emperor Justinian, for the Mongols and the Safavid Iranians, for imperial British forces and finally General John H. Kelly. However, just as Kelly’s stature was diminished by his later collaboration with America’s only openly autocratic president, so, too, in this century the Tigris has been diminished in every sense and all too abruptly. No longer what the Kurds once called the Ava Mezin, “the Great Water,” it is now a shadow of its former self.

A picture taken on May 1, 2023, shows excavators working on the banks of the Tigris River in Baghdad, which is experiencing drought-induced drop in the water levels.
(Photo: Ahmad al-Rubaye/AFP via Getty Images)
Thanks at least in part to human-caused climate change, the Tigris and its companion river, the Euphrates, on which Iraqis still so desperately depend, have seen alarmingly low water flow in recent years. As Iraqi posts on social media now regularly observe in horror, at certain places, if you stand on the banks of those once mighty bodies of water, you can see through to their riverbeds. You can even, Iraqis report, ford them on foot in some spots, a previously unheard-of phenomenon.
Those two rivers no longer pose the military obstacle they used to. They were once synonymous with Iraq. The very word Mesopotamia, the premodern way of referring to what we now call Iraq, means “between rivers” in Greek, a reference, of course, to the Tigris and the Euphrates. Climate change and the damming of those waters in neighboring upriver countries are expected to cause the flow of the Euphrates to decline by 30% and of the Tigris by a whopping 60% by 2099, which would be a death sentence for many Iraqis.
There was a deep irony that haunted the decision to invade Iraq to (so to speak) liberate its oil exports. After all, burning gasoline in cars causes the earth to heat up.
Twenty years ago, with President George W. Bush and Vice President Dick Cheney, two oil men and climate-change denialists, in the White House and new petroleum finds dwindling, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world for them to use the 9/11 horror as an excuse to commit “regime change” in Baghdad (which had no role in taking down the World Trade Center in New York and part of the Pentagon in Washington, D.C.). They could thereby, they thought, create a friendly puppet regime and lift the U.S. and U.N. sanctions then in place on the export of Iraqi petroleum, imposed as a punishment for dictator Saddam Hussein’s 1990 invasion of Kuwait.
There was a deep irony that haunted the decision to invade Iraq to (so to speak) liberate its oil exports. After all, burning gasoline in cars causes the earth to heat up, so the very black gold that both Saddam Hussein and George W. Bush coveted turned out to be a Pandora’s box of the worst sort. Remember, we now know that, in Washington’s “war on terror” in Iraq, Afghanistan, and elsewhere, the U.S. military emitted at least 400 million metric tons of heat-trapping carbon dioxide into the atmosphere. And mind you, that fit into a great tradition. Since the 18th century, the U.S. has put 400 billion—yes, billion!—metric tons of CO2 into that same atmosphere, or twice as much as any other country, which means it has a double responsibility to climate victims like those in Iraq.

Iraqi men cool down in front of misting fans amid a heatwave in central Baghdad, on July 20, 2022.
(Photo: Ahmad al-Rubaye/AFP via Getty Images)
The United Nations has now declared oil-rich Iraq, the land on which the Bush administration bet the future of our own country, to be the fifth most vulnerable to climate breakdown among its 193 member states. Its future, the U.N. warns, will be one of “soaring temperatures, insufficient and diminishing rainfall, intensified droughts and water scarcity, frequent sand and dust storms, and flooding.” Sawa Lake, the “pearl of the south” in Muthanna governorate, has dried up, a victim of both the industrial overuse of aquifers and a climate-driven drought that has reduced precipitation by 30%.
“I’ve lived in Basra all my life. As a boy, the summer temperature never went much beyond 40°C (104°F) in summer. Today, it can surpass 50°C (122° F).”
Meanwhile, temperatures in that already hot land are now rising rapidly. As Adel Al-Attar, an Iraqi adviser to the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) on water and habitat, describes it, “I’ve lived in Basra all my life. As a boy, the summer temperature never went much beyond 40°C (104°F) in summer. Today, it can surpass 50°C (122° F).” The climate statistics bear him out. As early as July 22, 2017, the temperature in Basra reached 54°C (129.2°F), among the highest ever recorded in the eastern hemisphere. Iraqi temperatures are, in fact, two to seven times higher than average global temperatures, and that means greater dryness of soil, increased evaporation from rivers and reservoirs, decreasing rainfall, and a distinct loss of biodiversity, not to mention rising human health threats like heat stroke.
The American war did direct harm to Iraq’s farmers, who make up 18% of the country’s labor force. And when it was over, they had to deal with staggering numbers of explosives left in the countryside, including landmines, unexploded ordnance, and improvised explosive devices, many of which have since been dangerously covered by desert sands as a climate-driven drought worsens. An article in the journal of the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences observes that when it comes to military disruptions of waterways, “Displacement, explosions, and movement of heavy equipment increase dust that then settles on rivers and accumulates in reservoirs.” Worse yet, between 2014 and 2018 when the guerrillas of the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant, whom the American war helped bring into existence, took over parts of northern and western Iraq, they blew up dams and practiced scorched-earth tactics that did $600 million worth of damage to the country’s hydraulic infrastructure. Had the U.S. never invaded, there would have been no ISIL.

A traditional Marsh Arab boat seen laying idle on dry and cracked Marsh in the Central Marshes of Southern Iraq.
(Photo: John Wreford/SOPA Images/LightRocket via Getty Images)
As Al-Attar of the ICRC observed, “When there’s not enough rain or vegetation, the upper layers of earth become less compact, meaning the chance of dust or sandstorms increases. These weather events contribute to desertification. Fertile soil is turning into desert.” And that is part of Iraq’s post-invasion fate, which means ever more frequent dust- and sandstorms. In mid-June, the Iraqi government warned that particularly violent dust and thunderstorms in al-Anbar, Najaf, and Karbala provinces were uprooting ever more trees and flattening ever more farms. In late May in Kirkuk, a dust storm sent hundreds of Iraqis to the hospital. A year ago, the dust storms came so thick and fast, week after week, that visibility was often obscured in major cities and thousands were hospitalized with breathing problems. In the late 20th century, there already were, on average, 243 days annually with high particulate matter in the air. In the past 20 years, that number has reached 272. Climate scientists predict that it will hit 300 by 2050.
A little over half of Iraq’s farmed land relies on rain-fed agriculture, mostly in the north of the country. Iraqi journalist Sanar Hasan describes the impact of increasing drought and water scarcity in the northern province of Ninewah, where yields have shrunk considerably. Ninewah produced 5 million metric tons of wheat in 2020 but only 3.37 million in 2021 before plummeting by more than 50% to 1.34 million in 2022. Such declining yields pose a special problem in a world where wheat has only grown more expensive, thanks in part to the Russian war on Ukraine. Thousands of Iraqi farming families are being forced off their lands by water shortages. For example, Hasan quotes Yashue Yohanna, a Christian who worked all his life in agriculture but now can’t make ends meet, as saying, “When I leave the farm, what do you expect me to do next? I’m an old man. How will I afford the cost of living?”
Worse yet, southern Iraq’s marshlands are turning into classic dust bowls. The Environment Director of Maysan Governorate in southern Iraq recently announced that its al-Awda Marsh was 100% dried up.
“The drought ended our future. We have no hope, other than for a [government] job, which would be enough. Other work doesn’t fulfill our needs.”
The marshes at the confluence of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers have been storied for thousands of years. The world’s oldest epic, the Mesopotamian tale of Gilgamesh, is set there as it describes a hero journeying to an enchanted garden of the gods in search of immortality. (Echoes of that epic can be found in the biblical story of the garden of Eden.)
Our addiction to fossil fuels, however, has contributed significantly to the blighting of that very source of life and legend. It was there that marsh dwellers once hauled in a majority of the fish eaten by Iraqis, but the remaining wetlands are now experiencing increasingly high rates of evaporation. The Shatt al-Arab, created where the Tigris and Euphrates flow together into the Persian Gulf, has seen its water pressure drop, allowing an influx of salt water that has already destroyed 60,000 acres of farmland and some 30,000 trees.
Many of Iraq’s date palms have also died owing to war, neglect, soil salinization, and climate change. In the 1960s and 1970s, Iraq provided three-quarters of the world’s dates. Now, its date industry is tiny and on life support, while Marsh Arabs and southern farming families have been forced from their lands into cities where they have few of the skills needed to make a living. Journalist Ahmed Saeed and his colleagues at Reuters quote Hasan Moussa, a former fisherman who now drives a taxi, as saying, “The drought ended our future. We have no hope, other than for a [government] job, which would be enough. Other work doesn’t fulfill our needs.”

A woman walks with a pail of water at Laylan camp for the displaced about 25 kilometres east of the northern multi-ethnic Iraqi city of Kirkuk on May 9, 2019.
(Photo: Ahmad aL-Rubaye/AFP via Getty Images)
Although it was mostly men who planned out Iraq’s ruinous wars of the past half-century and set their sights on burning as much petroleum, coal, and natural gas as possible for profit and power, Iraq’s women have borne the brunt of the climate crisis. Few of them are in the formal job market, though many do work on farms. Because they are at home, they have often been given responsibility for providing water. Because of the present drought conditions, many women already spend at least three hours a day trying to get water from reservoirs and bring it home. Water foraging is becoming so difficult and time-consuming that some girls are dropping out of secondary school to focus on it.
At home, women are dependent on tap water, which is often contaminated. Men who work outside the home often gain access to water purified for Iraqi industry and its cities. As farms fail owing to drought, men are emigrating to those very cities for work, often leaving the women of the household in rural villages scrambling to raise enough food in arid circumstances to feed themselves and their children.
If, instead of invading Iraq, the American government had swung into action in the spring of 2003 to cut carbon dioxide output..., the emission of hundreds of billions of tons of CO2 might have been avoided.
Last fall, the International Organization for Migration at the United Nations estimated that 62,000 Iraqis living in the center and the south of the country had been displaced from their homes by drought over the previous four years and anticipated that many more would follow. Just as people from Oklahoma fled to California in droves during the Dust Bowl of the 1930s, so now Iraqis are facing the prospect of dealing with their own dustbowl. It is, however, unlikely to be a mere episode like the American one. Instead, it looms as the long-term fate of their country.
If, instead of invading Iraq, the American government had swung into action in the spring of 2003 to cut carbon dioxide output, as one of our foremost climate scientists, Michael Mann, was suggesting at the time, the emission of hundreds of billions of tons of CO2 might have been avoided. Humanity would have had an extra two decades to make the transition to a zero-carbon world. In the end, after all, the stakes are as high for Americans as they are for Iraqis.
If humanity doesn’t reach zero carbon emissions by 2050, we are likely to outrun our “carbon budget,” the ocean’s ability to absorb CO2, and the climate will undoubtedly go chaotic. What has already happened in Iraq, not to speak of the dire climate impacts that have recently left Canada constantly aflame, U.S. cities smoking, and Texans broiling in a record fashion would then seem like child’s play.
At that point, in short, we would have invaded ourselves.
"It should not be forgotten that this debacle of death and destruction was not only a profound error of policymaking; it was the result of a carefully executed crusade of disinformation and lies," said one prominent critic.
As the world this week mark the 20th anniversary of the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq, journalism experts weighed in on the corporate media's complicity in amplifying the Bush administration's lies, including ones about former Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein's nonexistent nuclear, chemical, and biological weapons upon which the war was waged.
"Twenty years ago, this country's mainstream media—with one notable exception—bought into phony Bush administration claims about Hussein's stockpiles of weapons of mass destruction, helping cheerlead our nation into a conflict that ended the lives of thousands of Americans and hundreds of thousands of Iraqis," Los Angeles Times columnist Robin Abcarian wrote Sunday.
That "one notable exception" was a group of journalists at the Washington, D.C. bureau of Knight Ridder—which was acquired by McClatchy in 2006—who published dozens of articles in several of the company's papers debunking and criticizing the Bush administration's dubious claims about Iraq and its WMDs. Their efforts were the subject of the 2017 Rob Reiner film Shock and Awe, starring Woody Harrelson.
"The war—along with criminally poor post-war planning on the part of Bush administration officials—also unleashed horrible sectarian strife, led to the emergence of ISIS, and displaced more than 1 million Iraqis," Abcarian noted.
She continued:
That sad chapter in American history produced its share of jingoistic buzzwords and phrases: "WMD," "the axis of evil," "regime change," "yellowcake uranium," "the coalition of the willing," and a cheesy but terrifying refrain, repeated ad nauseam by Bush administration officials such as then-National Security Adviser Condoleezza Rice: "We don't want the smoking gun to be a mushroom cloud."
"Of course," wrote Abcarian, "there was never any smoking gun, mushroom-shaped or not."
According to the Center for Public Integrity, a Washington, D.C.-based nonprofit investigative journalism organization, Bush and top administration officials—including then-Vice President Dick Cheney, Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld, Secretary of State Colin Powell, and Rice—"made at least 935 false statements in the two years following September 11, 2001, about the national security threat posed by Saddam Hussein's Iraq."
Those lies were dutifully repeated by most U.S. corporate mainstream media in what the center called "part of an orchestrated campaign that effectively galvanized public opinion and, in the process, led the nation to war under decidedly false pretenses."
"It should not be forgotten that this debacle of death and destruction was not only a profound error of policymaking; it was the result of a carefully executed crusade of disinformation and lies," David Corn, the Washington, D.C. bureau chief for Mother Jones, asserted Monday.
Far from paying a price for amplifying the Bush administration's Iraq lies, many of the media hawks who acted more like lapdogs than watchdogs 20 years ago are today ensconced in prestigious and well-paying positions in media, public policy, and academia.
In a where-are-they-now piece for The Real News Network, media critic Adam Johnson highlighted how the careers of several media and media-related government professionals "blossomed" after their lie-laden selling of the Iraq War:
"The almost uniform success of all the Iraq War cheerleaders provides the greatest lesson about what really helps one get ahead in public life: It's not being right, doing the right thing, or challenging power, but going with prevailing winds and mocking anyone who dares to do the opposite," wrote Johnson.
In an interview with the Quincy Institute for Responsible Statecraft—which is hosting a discussion Wednesday about the media's role in war and peace—Middle East expert Assal Rad noted:
Rather than challenging the narrative of the state, calling for evidence, or even humanizing the would-be victims of the war, the Iraqi people, reporters such as Thomas Friedman with significant platforms like The New York Times most often parroted the talking points of U.S. officials. There was little critical journalism to question the existence of WMDs and little reflection on important issues, such as the U.S. role in supporting Saddam Hussein in the 1980s against Iran, international law, or the humanity of Iraqis.
While there was some contrition from outlets including the Times as the Iraq occupation continued for years and not the "five days or five weeks or five months" promised by Rumsfeld, journalist Jon Schwarz of The Intercept noted that media lies and distortions about the war continue to this day.
"Perhaps the most telling instance of the media's acquiescence was a year after the Iraq invasion," said Rad, "when President Bush's joke at the White House Correspondents' dinner about finding no weapons of mass destruction was met with uproarious laughter from an audience of journalists."
Donald Rumsfeld, the former U.S. congressman, aide to several Republican presidents, and two-time defense secretary whose torture-laden tenure and ruinous legacy were defined by his lies in service of an unending war that's killed at least hundreds of thousands of people, died Tuesday at age 88.
"Donald Rumsfeld is responsible for thousands and thousands of deaths and enriching himself in the process. The least we can do is to forever link his name with 'war criminal.'"
--Veterans for Peace
By the time he was chosen as then-President George W. Bush's secretary of defense, Rumsfeld had already been a Navy veteran, four-term Republican U.S. congressman, and adviser to former Presidents Richard Nixon and Gerald Ford--for whom he had served as defense secretary.
In the early 1980s, President Ronald Reagan repeatedly dispatched Rumsfeld as a special envoy to Iraq, whose brutal dictator Saddam Hussein was at the time an important U.S. ally. An infamous handshake between Rumsfeld and Hussein led to the transfer of deadly chemical and biological materials from the U.S. and allies to Iraq. Hussein subsequently weaponized the components and unleashed weapons of mass destruction on both Iranian troops--with the assistance of the Reagan administration--and Iraqi Kurds during the genocidal (pdf) Anfal campaign.
As Bush's defense secretary, Rumsfeld--who served as CEO or chairman of companies including General Instrument and Gilead Sciences--recruited an inner circle of former corporate executives to oversee Pentagon operations, including Air Force Secretary James G. Roche (Northrop Grumman), Navy Secretary Gordon England (General Dynamics), and Army Secretary Thomas E. White (Enron). So great was the influence of the arms industry in the department during Rumsfeld's tenure that one commentator described it as "Department of Defense, Inc."
An ardent imperialist, Rumsfeld was a leading luminary of the neoconservative movement and a prominent leader of the Project for the New American Century (PNAC), whose other members included Bush administration officials such as Dick Cheney, John Bolton, Elliott Abrams, and Paul Wolfowitz.
PNAC hawks--who envisioned and strategized regime change in Iraq and elsewhere even before 9/11--lobbied vigorously for the 2003 invasion of Iraq, even though they knew the country had no connection with the September 11, 2001 attacks on the U.S. or weapons of mass destruction. When pressed on this last point, Rumsfeld offered perhaps his most infamous explanation:
As we know, there are known knowns; there are things we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns; that is to say we know there are some things we do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns--the ones we don't know we don't know.
In the rushed run-up to invade Iraq, Rumsfeld dutifully disseminated Bush administration lies about Hussein's nonexistent nuclear program, while laughably asserting that the Iraq invasion had "literally nothing to do with oil."
The invasion of Iraq, at first called Operation Iraqi Liberation (OIL) began in the dark of night with a Navy SEAL raid on two offshore Iraqi oil platforms. The New York Times--which parroted many of the administration's Iraq lies--hailed this as the first "victory in the battle for Iraq's vast oil empire."
"Five days or five weeks or five months, but it certainly isn't going to last any longer than that."
--Donald Rumsfeld, on how long the Iraq War would last
Rumsfeld predicted a quick and easy war in Iraq. "Five days or five weeks or five months, but it certainly isn't going to last any longer than that," he declared in November 2002 with cocksure miscalculation. Although former President Barack Obama officially ended the Iraq War in December 2011, U.S. troops are still stationed there today--and President Joe Biden bombed the country earlier this week.
When U.S. forces conquered Baghdad, one of the first sites they secured was the Oil Ministry headquarters. Meanwhile, the Iraqi National Museum, which housed priceless ancient artifacts spanning Mesopotamia's 5,000-year history, was being looted. Thousands of statues, manuscripts, and countless other treasures, some of them among the oldest objects created by civilized humans, were stolen while nearby U.S. troops did nothing.
"Stuff happens," Rumsfeld flippantly replied when faced with images of the looting. "The images you are seeing on television you are seeing over and over, and it's the same picture of some person walking out of some building with a vase, and you see it 20 times, and you think, 'My goodness, were there that many vases? Is it possible that there were that many vases in the whole country?'"
Thousands of U.S. troops would die during the course of the U.S.-led invasion and occupation of the country, along with hundreds of thousands of Iraqis. The latter were practically ignored by Bush officials. When Rumsfeld was asked why the public only hears about the number of American war dead and not about Iraqi casualties, he cooly replied that "we don't do body counts on other people."
Rumsfeld was also an instrumental figure in the Bush administration's torture program. He signed off on torture techniques used by U.S. troops at Guantanamo Bay, Abu Ghraib, and elsewhere--places where prisoners were sometimes tortured to death. He also issued a directive allowing torturers to withhold medical care to prisoners under interrogation who had injuries as serious as gunshot wounds. Later, Rumsfeld would require doctors to certify that detainees slated for torture were certified "medically and operationally" fit for abuse.
When the Abu Ghraib torture photo scandal broke, Rumsfeld--after outing the courageous soldier who exposed the abuse--lied about what he knew.
Gen. Antonio Taguba, author of an Army report (pdf) on U.S. torture at Abu Ghraib, said he met with Rumsfeld and other Pentagon brass just before the defense secretary testified to the Senate about abuse at the notorious prison. Taguba, who had seen thousands of photos of detainee abuse, says Rumsfeld asked him if what was happening in the Iraqi prison was abuse or torture.
"I described a naked detainee lying on the wet floor, handcuffed, with an interrogator shoving things up his rectum and said: 'That's not abuse. That's torture.' There was quiet,'" the general recalled.
Yet Rumsfeld testified before the Senate that nobody in the Pentagon had seen the Abu Ghraib torture photos.
However, a Senate Armed Services Committee investigation concluded that "Rumsfeld's authorization of interrogation techniques... was a direct cause of detainee abuse."
The senators additionally asserted that it was "unconscionable and false" for leading Bush officials to blame a "few bad apples" in the military for detainee abuse in order to avoid accountability.
While fighting a war purportedly meant to defeat terrorism in some parts of the world, Rumsfeld supported terror elsewhere. Pursuing allies in the so-called War on Terror, Rumsfeld courted dictators including Uzbekistan's Islam Karimov--who boiled political opponents alive--and the Iranian exile militants Mujahedin-e Khalq (MEK), a State Department-designated terrorist organization.
"On the bright side, Donald Rumsfeld gets to shake hands once again with Saddam Hussein AND Nixon."
--John Fugelsang, comedian
Meanwhile, a Senate Foreign Relations Committee report concluded that Rumsfeld let bin Laden escape in December 2001. The report also said Rumsfeld's failures ultimately left Americans more vulnerable to terrorism.
It wasn't as if Rumsfeld did not understand the real root causes of anti-U.S. terrorism. In 2004, he commissioned a task force to study the subject. It concluded that "Muslims do not 'hate our freedom,' but rather, they hate our policies." The task force report cited "American direct intervention in the Muslim world," U.S. support for dictators in countries including Saudi Arabia and Egypt, and, most of all, "the American occupation of Iraq and Afghanistan."
Yet Rumsfeld remained an unrepentant cheerleader for war and empire until the end. Medea Benjamin, the co-founder of the women-led peace group CodePink who famously confronted the former defense secretary over his war crimes, tweeted that "his legacy of wars in Iraq and Afghanistan lives on."
"Donald Rumsfeld was a merciless war criminal who presided over systemic torture, massacres of civilians, [and] illegal wars," tweeted journalist and The Intercept co-founder Jeremy Scahill. "That's his legacy and how he should forever be remembered."
Daily Beast senior national security correspondent Spencer Ackerman wrote, "The only thing tragic about the death of Donald Rumsfeld is that it didn't occur in an Iraqi prison."
"Do not mourn the defense secretary," said Ackerman. "Mourn his victims. There were nearly too many to tally, but his Pentagon refused to count anyway."
This Saturday--March 20th, 2021--is the 18th anniversary of the United States invasion of Iraq. However, the American war against that country did not begin in 2003. The U.S. has been fighting a war against Iraq since 1991.
Thirty years of conflict has killed hundreds of thousands of Iraqis and injured many times more.
"Reparation funding must be allocated to provide individual Iraqis with monetary compensation for the extreme pain and suffering we have caused them and to (re)build their lives however they see fit."
Millions of people have been displaced directly by American bombing and invasion and indirectly by the rise of militia and paramilitary groups that flourished after the U.S. dismantled the Iraqi state. Extensive bombardment has destroyed thousands of homes, mosques, schools, and hospitals.
The use of weapons such as cluster bombs and depleted uranium has contaminated the landscape with dangerous and toxic unexploded munitions and heavy metals. Bombing, battles, and careless military occupation have damaged and destroyed an unknown number of priceless artifacts and world-historical monuments.
Americans must also remember--or learn for the first time--that their CIA helped the Iraqi Ba'ath Party come to power in the 1960s. This set in motion the events that led to Saddam Hussein's rise to the presidency in 1979.
Despite, or perhaps because of his brutality, the U.S. allied with Saddam in his war against Iran in the 1980s. It supported and enabled his use of internationally banned chemical weapons. American companies supplied the technologies to build those weapons.
It was only after Saddam's usefulness had been exhausted that George H.W. Bush turned on his former ally and launched the war that continues to this day. Six American presidents--George H.W. Bush, Bill Clinton, George W. Bush, Barack Obama, Donald Trump, and now Joe Biden--have continued this conflict.
Americans owe a debt to the people of Iraq that can never be repaid in full. However, it is incumbent and imperative that we try.
First and foremost, Biden must end the American war against Iraq without precondition or caveat. This means withdrawing all of the troops, stopping the bombing, and dismantling the structures of permanent occupation.
Second, we must bring the leaders and participants in this devastating war to account. Starting with the bombing of Iraq in 1991 that United Nations investigators called "near apocalyptic," the U.S. has continued to commit atrocities and war crimes for three decades. We must bring the planners and perpetrators of these crimes to some measure of justice.
"No amount of money can ever fully heal the physical and psychic wounds that the American war against Iraq has caused. But, on the inauspicious 30th anniversary of this conflict, Americans can demonstrate contrition, and work to ameliorate, if only partially, the suffering their government and military have caused."
Third, the United States must vastly expand its financial support for refugee resettlement. Those still leaving Iraq because of instability and violence should have the option to resettle in the United States or elsewhere as they so choose, and the U.S. should facilitate those processes.
Fourth, reparation funding must be allocated to provide individual Iraqis with monetary compensation for the extreme pain and suffering we have caused them and to (re)build their lives however they see fit. The U.S. must also dedicate resources for rebuilding infrastructure and environmental remediation. The toxic remains of weapons such as depleted uranium need to be safely cleaned up.
No amount of money can ever fully heal the physical and psychic wounds that the American war against Iraq has caused. But, on the inauspicious 30th anniversary of this conflict, Americans can demonstrate contrition, and work to ameliorate, if only partially, the suffering their government and military have caused by making that government make reparations to the people of Iraq.
Let's assume that Donald Trump loses the election in November.
Yes, that's a mighty big assumption, despite all the polls currently favoring the Democrats. If the economy begins to recover and the first wave of Covid-19 subsides (without a second wave striking), Donald Trump's reelection prospects could improve greatly. The Republican Party has a huge war chest ready to fund ads galore, massive targeted outreach, and widespread voter suppression. And if all that isn't enough, the president could borrow a tactic from the dictators he so admires and cancel the election outright out of concern over the coronavirus or some fabricated emergency.
Playing up fears of Trump's reelection is a useful get-out-the-vote strategy, but for the sake of argument, let's imagine that the election happens and the president loses unambiguously. A majority of Americans will sigh with relief. Still, don't count on Trump--and more important, Trumpism--evaporating like a nightmare at daybreak.
To begin with, there's the president's legendary base of support, the one-third of Americans who'd continue to back him even if he were to shoot someone on New York City's Fifth Avenue (or, through criminal negligence, effectively murder more than 100,000 people by ignoring a pandemic for 70 days). Such Trumpists aren't going to suddenly emigrate en masse to New Zealand, as some liberals threatened to do after the last presidential election.
For the time being, the president still has an entire party apparatus behind him, having transformed the Republicans into little more than a personality cult, banishing dissenters like former Senators Jeff Flake and Bob Corker to the political hinterlands, and silencing the handful of so-called moderates that remain.
Trump enjoys institutional support as well, having replaced so many putative deep-staters with civil servants prepared to unquestioningly do his bidding. He's personally fired his perceived government enemies, chief among them six inspectors general. Minions like former body man John McEntee, former Acting Director of National Intelligence Richard Grenell, and presidential aide Stephen Miller have all purged experts, replacing them in the government bureaucracy with loyalists. Meanwhile, Mitch McConnell has done the heavy lifting in the Senate, filling the judicial system with Trump flunkies: two Supreme Court judges, more than 50 Court of Appeals judges, and 140 District Court judges so far.
Taken together, these component parts of Trumpism form that most dangerous of creatures, a political chimera with the head of an establishment machine and the body of a radical social movement.
Ever the money man, the president has secured a reliable cash flow, bringing the uber-wealthy class of conservative donors onto his team, a total of 80 billionaires, including Blackstone CEO Stephen Schwarzman, Texas banker Andy Beal, World Wrestling Entertainment cofounder Linda McMahon, Silicon Valley guru Peter Thiel, and casino magnate Sheldon Adelson. Thanks to his violations of the emoluments clause of the Constitution, Trump has also funneled taxpayer money into his own business: millions spent on rooms at the Trump Organization's hotels and golf clubs. Even before factoring in his money--Trump personally spent $66 million of his own dollars on the 2016 election--his campaign fund already has more than one-third of a billion dollars.
And then there's the bulk of conservative civil society--ranging from think tanks like the Heritage Foundation and evangelicals like Franklin Graham to the anti-abortion lobby and the International Union of Police Associations--that now operates in his corner. Despite the entertainment world's general loathing of the president, he's even lined up a celebrity or two like rapper Kanye West and actress Roseanne Barr along with a handful of D-listers like actor Jon Voight and Barack Obama's half-brother Malik. On the fringes roam the true "bad hombres": white supremacists, live-free-or-die militiamen, and QAnon conspiracy theorists.
Taken together, these component parts of Trumpism form that most dangerous of creatures, a political chimera with the head of an establishment machine and the body of a radical social movement. This creature has its hands on the levers of power, its boots on the ground, and its eyes on the prize of four more years.
Are all these people and institutions true believers in Donald Trump? Probably not. Sporting more of a performative style than a coherent ideology, he is, to misquote Lenin, a "useful idiot." When he's no longer useful--that is, no longer in power--he'll only be an idiot and the opportunists will move on.
While Trump may be expendable, Trumpism--which lies at the intersections of racial and sexual anxiety, hatred of government and the expert class, and opposition to cosmopolitan internationalism--is not so easily rooted out. Drawing heavily on American traditions of Know-Nothing-ism, America-First-ism, and Goldwater Republicanism, Trump's essential worldview will survive the 2020 election.
If their candidate loses in November, Trumpists will dig in their heels just as their predecessors did after Barack Obama's 2008 victory. Only a month after his inauguration, the Tea Party was already up and running. But the Tea Party will prove child's play compared to the resistance the Trumpists are likely to mount if their candidate tanks on Election Day 2020. And such resistance could succeed in finishing what Trump started--disuniting the country and destroying the democratic experiment--unless, that is, the United States were to undergo a thorough de-Trumpification.
Other societies have gone through such processes, but those efforts--Reconstruction after the American Civil War, denazification in Germany after World War II, and de-Baathification after the fall of Saddam Hussein in Iraq in 2003--have all been flawed in various ways. Reconsidering them, however, might help us avoid repeating the mistakes of history as we try to drive a stake through the heart of Trumpism.
Regime Change
The United States hasn't recently been invaded, lost a major war in its homeland, or had its government fall to a popular uprising.
That's usually what it takes to dislodge a deeply entrenched ruling ideology. The South lost the Civil War, the Nazis World War II, and Saddam Hussein the second Gulf War. Those defeats provided the winners with unprecedented opportunities to remake the old order, but don't seem to apply to America in 2020. The electoral defeat of a president and party, if that's even what happens in November, doesn't constitute regime change. It's just the kind of peaceful transition of power that's the cornerstone of democratic stability.
But let's face it: 2020 isn't shaping up to be a normal election year. Conservative pundits, like military historian Victor Davis Hanson, believe that Barack Obama and the Democrats have brought the country to the brink of a literal civil war. During last year's impeachment hearings, Trump himself tweeted approvingly a comment made by Robert Jeffress, an evangelical ally, that impeachment "will cause a Civil War-like fracture in this Nation from which our Country will never heal." Meanwhile, typically enough, Obama's first secretary of labor, Robert Reich, suspects that President Trump's flagrant disregard of the Constitution will precipitate major social unrest, even as comedian Bill Maher urges Democrats to reach out to Trump supporters as part of a bid to defeat the president--or risk civil war.
Many Americans seem to agree. In a 2018 Rasmussen poll, one-third of respondents thought it likely that another civil war would break out within five years. According to a 2019 civility poll from the Georgetown Institute of Politics and Public Service, the consensus was that the country is already two-thirds of the way toward a civil war.
Nor is there much confidence that the 2020 presidential election will go smoothly. Take your pick from a menu of potential disruptions: allegations of voter fraud and Republican voter suppression, a resurgence of the coronavirus, voting machine software glitches, Russian hackers, confusion over mail-in ballots, or an authoritarian president who repeatedly jokes about serving more than two terms. A recent Georgia primary offered a warning of what might come, with fiascos aplenty, particularly for voters of color. There weren't enough polling places, people waited in line for endless hours, absentee ballots never arrived at homes. Multiply Georgia by 50 and you'd have a full-blown crisis of political legitimacy.
Even if this country manages to pull off the 2020 presidential election, a post-election insurrection is not out of the question. During the lame-duck period, a defeated Trump might call on his supporters--gun owners, militia members, active-service military--to serve as a Praetorian guard to keep him in office. Mark Villalta, an attendee at Trumpstock in Arizona last October, was typical of some Trump supporters in confessing that he's hoarding weapons just in case Trump loses. "Nothing less than a civil war would happen," he told The New York Times. "I don't believe in violence, but I'll do what I got to do."
It's essential to ensure that the November 3rd election is free and fair, but if Trump loses, then the bigger problems are likely to begin.
Confederacy of Dunces
In the 1860 election, America confronted a polarized electorate, a stupendously mediocre president in James Buchanan, and a clear geographic divide between north and south, urban and rural. Not even the election of Abraham Lincoln could save the union. The attack on Fort Sumter, the opening salvo of the Civil War, took place roughly a month after his inauguration.
Donald Trump seems to have learned all the wrong lessons from the "War Between the States," resisting as he's done recently the removal of "beautiful" Confederate statues and the redesignation of U.S. military bases named after Confederate generals. In the last Oscar season, he even wished that Gone with the Wind had won rather than some South Korean film he'd never heard of. Such favoritism for the disgraced and vanquished should be as politically disqualifying as a Heil Hitler salute.
The reason that Trump can get away with his Confederate nostalgia comes, at least in part, from the failure of the Reconstruction era after the Civil War to extirpate racism and its associated economic inequality from American society. In fact, as historian Allen Guelzo points out, "Reconstruction did not fail so much as it was overthrown. Southern whites played the most obvious role in this overthrow, but they would never have succeeded without the consent of the Northern Democrats, who had never been in favor of an equitable Reconstruction."
The Democrats of the time, in other words, became a party of resistance--to Reconstruction, civil rights, and the radical Republicans of that moment. So the Confederacy continued to live on not only in the hearts and minds of defeated Southern whites but also in the racist policies that elected officials in both parts of the country would resurrect.
Here, then, is a lesson of the Civil War's aftermath for this moment. Today's Republicans, the equivalent of the northern Democrats of the post-Civil War era and a true confederacy of dunces, cannot be allowed to persist in their current incarnation as a vehicle for Trumpism. A thorough thumping at the polls in November is a necessary but insufficient response to what they've become.
Gaining a congressional majority, in other words, is not enough. The Democrats and chastened Republicans would have to work to make that party a far less extreme force in American politics, abandoning Trump and reclaiming Lincoln.
"We need to look forward as opposed to looking backwards," Barack Obama insisted as he entered office in 2009, sidestepping efforts to investigate the wrongdoing of the George W. Bush administration. He was convinced that such forward thinking would unite the country. He was wrong.
To avoid a Reconstruction-like fiasco, the next administration would have to drain the swamp Trump created, bring criminal charges against the former president and his key followers, and launch a serious campaign to change the hearts and minds of Americans who have been drawn to this president's agenda.
Detoxifying Government
When Saddam Hussein fell and American troops took Baghdad, the United States established an occupation authority that attempted to expunge all traces of the former Iraqi autocrat's Baath Party from that society. At the time, the State Department considered three basic positions on what came to be known as de-Baathification: focus just on Saddam's inner circle of about 50 top-ranking officials, expand that circle to include a larger number of top politicians, or eradicate Baathism altogether because "democratization is simply not possible unless and until the entire apparatus of control and authority is uprooted."
Thanks to Paul Bremer, the head of that Coalition Provisional Authority, the third option became its very first directive, which led to the ejection of between 35,000 and 50,000 Iraqi civil servants onto the streets of their country. "In effect, the United States dismantled the Iraqi state, leaving a deep security vacuum, administrative chaos, and soaring unemployment," wrote pundit Fareed Zakaria in 2007. "We summarily deposed not just Saddam Hussein but a centuries-old ruling elite and then were stunned that they reacted poorly."
That thoroughgoing purge, along with the literal dismantling of the Iraqi army, generated a deep distrust of the American occupation and provided an instant pool of recruits for any militant resistance, fueling an all-out war.
The good news is that since Trumpism has only been a governing ideology for three years, it hasn't (yet) penetrated the civil service or the military to the degree that Baathism dominated the Iraqi government and armed forces. Since Trump appointees don't form a particularly deep state, however much Trump would have liked to create one of his own, no Iraq-style resistance is on the horizon.
The judiciary is another matter. The roughly 200 judges that Donald Trump and Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell have already managed to appoint for life will do their best to block all attempts to deconstruct Trumpism. If it can be shown that any of these judges engaged in serious ethical or criminal misconduct, then impeachment would be an option. However, you can't impeach judges just because you don't like their rulings (though some Republican legislators did try to do just that in Pennsylvania a couple of years ago).
Instead of attempting to remove individual judges, it would be more strategic to go after their ideological backer, the Federalist Society, an uber-conservative legal organization that has functioned as a judicial matchmaker for Trump, providing him with a list of potential Supreme Court nominees. All but eight of his federal appellate court picks have been members of the society.
You can't outlaw a legal society, however lunatic its interpretation of the Constitution may be. However, Senator Sheldon Whitehouse (D-RI), who's on the Judiciary Committee, proposes to make it illegal for judges to be members of the Federalist Society. An added benefit: such a move would also go after the big money behind the attempted right-wing takeover of the court system because, as Whitehouse points out, "the Federalist Society is at the center of a network of dark-money-funded conservative organizations whose purpose is to influence court composition and outcomes."
Detoxifying the court system is crucial not only for reversing Trump's regressive policies but for clearing the way to prosecute him for his wrongdoing.
Hauling Them into Court
At Nuremberg after World War II, the Allied victors put nearly 200 Nazis on trial for various crimes: 161 were convicted and 37 sentenced to death. The precedents established there and at other war crimes trials have guided contemporary tribunals culminating in the International Criminal Court (ICC).
It would be satisfying if the U.S. government could give Donald Trump and some of his top aides to the ICC for their violations of international law at the U.S.-Mexico border, the assassination of the head of the Iran's Revolutionary Guard Corps, and similar actions. But that's unimaginable even for a government led by President Joe Biden in which the Democrats had a veto-proof majority in the Senate. So it will be up to the American courts to charge and convict Trump, which has so far failed to happen, despite some cases related to his tax returns and allegations of sexual assault still inching forward.
The Nuremberg process developed new standards to prosecute the Nazis. Since the barriers have grown high indeed, the Trumpian opposition would have to get more creative to make sure that Trump goes to jail.
As soon as he is no longer president, federal prosecutors should label Donald Trump and his top associates an ongoing criminal organization and begin the process of bringing them to justice under the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations (RICO) Act. For years, after all, the president has been acting like a mafia godfather, demanding loyalty, bullying competitors, and scorning "rats." Last year, former Trump fixer Michael Cohen's testimony before the House Oversight Committee laid out in graphic detail ways in which the president and his gang were guilty of racketeering: bribery, fraud, obstruction of justice, and the like.
The House of Representatives impeached the president, but with the help of his Republican enablers, he managed to avoid removal from office. Getting read the RICO Act, on the other hand, could leave him facing years in prison and the Trump Organization would be liable for treble damages as compensation for victims. As Forbes contributor Steve Denning concluded during the impeachment proceedings:
"While impeachment would obviously be a severe personal sanction for Donald Trump, convicting the Trump Organization as a RICO enterprise could be far worse. If Trump is 'only' impeached, he could always go back to his family business, sadder but perhaps wiser. But if the Trump Organization were to be convicted as a criminal enterprise under the RICO Act, there might be no business for Trump to go back to."
U.S. diplomat Herbert Pell, instrumental in bringing war-crimes charges against the Nazis during World War II, saw "how Confederate veterans in the South had created for themselves a misty-eyed mythology about the U.S. Civil War and was determined that the Nazis would not do the same." As Dan Plesch explained in his study of international war crimes tribunals, "Pell's motivation was to prevent postwar nostalgia for the Nazis breeding more war."
Putting Trump on trial would not only remove him from the political equation but could effectively delegitimize Trumpism and prevent a second round of it from occurring.
The Popularity of Trumpism
Nazism didn't die with Adolf Hitler's suicide, the collapse of his regime, or those convictions at Nuremberg. More than 10% of the German population had belonged to the Nazi Party. Early efforts at denazification sputtered out largely because the United States and its allies needed a stable, prosperous Germany at the heart of Cold War Europe--and Germany quietly allowed former Nazis to remain in every echelon of society. Seven years after the war, for instance, 60% of the civil servants in Bavaria were former Nazis.
Because Trumpism is a cancer on the body politic, the treatment will require radical interventions, including the transformation of the Republican Party, a purge of Trumpists from government, and the indictment of the president and his top cronies as a criminal enterprise.
Nazi ideology was even more difficult to root out. According to a public opinion survey conducted in West Germany in 1947, 55% percent of those living under the U.S. occupation believed that "National Socialism was a good idea badly carried out." Worse yet, the majority of those in this category were under 30, not just the old guard.
As bizarre as Donald Trump might be, Trumpism itself is not a new American phenomenon. The difference is that the far right never before had such access to power, not during the George W. Bush era, not even during Ronald Reagan's presidency. It always remained on the margins, kept alive by the likes of the John Birch Society, the occasional extreme member of Congress, and weirdo talk show hosts like Alex Jones of InfoWars.
The danger of Trump lies in his remarkable capacity to mainstream views that previously had been beyond the pale (at least in official Washington). A significant number of Americans feel liberated, thanks to his imprimatur, to give voice to the worst angels of their nature. Transforming such deep-seated belief systems represents quite a different challenge than changing the guard in the Oval Office and beyond. After all, democratic societies don't send people off to reeducation camps. Certain communities, like universities, can legislate against hate speech, but it's people's hearts and minds, not just their tongues, that must be reached.
To do so, it's imperative to separate the legitimate grievances of Trump supporters from the illegitimate ones. Yes, "bad hombres" are attracted to Trump's racism, misogyny, and xenophobia, but many of the disenfranchised who voted for him were motivated by a disgust at political elites and the raging economic inequality they produced in this land. After the triple whammy of the coronavirus pandemic (and its disproportionate impact on the working poor), the economic semi-collapse that followed its spread (and the disproportionate benefits Amazon's Jeff Bezos and other billionaires drew from it), and an epidemic of police violence (visited on people of color), more and more Americans are coming to feel that the status quo is simply unacceptable. They're disgusted by Republican duplicity but also by the Democrats' version of business as usual.
Because Trumpism is a cancer on the body politic, the treatment will require radical interventions, including the transformation of the Republican Party, a purge of Trumpists from government, and the indictment of the president and his top cronies as a criminal enterprise. To avoid a second Civil War, however, a second American Revolution would need to address the root causes of Trumpism, especially political corruption, deep-seated racism, and extreme economic inequality.
Otherwise, even if The Donald loses this election, the political creature he represents will rise from the ashes and eventually return to power (President Tom Cotton? President Ivanka?!). America can't survive another civil war, but neither can it afford another failed Reconstruction, a half-hearted de-Trumpification of America, and a return to the previous status quo.
Dig deep into the June issue of National Geographic magazine and you might just find something that will cast a major aspect of American foreign policy--our economic sanctions regimes--in a new light. The issue's cover story, "The Last Voices of World War II," includes a graphic showing the death tolls of the various nations in that war's European and Pacific Theaters. Unfold that graphic and you'll find an even more interesting one within--"Peaks of Brutality," which displays the "100 deadliest events of the past 2,500 years." World War II's 66 million deaths (an estimate, as all the numbers are) lead the list. The events are not limited to wars, so in second place we find Genghis Khan, deemed responsible for the death of 40 million--over 10 percent of the 13th century world population. But the most interesting and relevant listings are found down at the bottom--"Saddam Hussein" in 100th place and "Sanctions against Iraq" in 95th.
You read that right. By this list's reckoning, the 1979-2003 reign of Iraq's Saddam Hussein constituted the 100th deadliest event in world history, responsible for an estimated 300,000 deaths. It was surpassed in deadliness, however--and in a considerably shorter time period (1990-2003)--by the economic sanctions which killed an estimated 350,000 Iraqis following their country's invasion of Kuwait. In other words, in the matter of Saddam Hussein, the supposed cure proved deadlier than the disease.
To say that the American public has exhibited less concern over the Iraqis killed by sanctions than over those whose deaths were attributable to Hussein himself is a serious understatement.
To say that the American public has exhibited less concern over the Iraqis killed by sanctions than over those whose deaths were attributable to Hussein himself is a serious understatement. But then, with mainline journalism being ever-responsive to the D.C. propaganda machine, how many are actually aware of these numbers? Really, the only time the matter of the sanctions' deadliness made a ripple on the American political scene was in reaction to then-UN Ambassador Madeleine Albright's response to a 1996 60 Minutes question about sanctions killing Iraqi children: "I think that is a very hard choice, but the price, we think, the price is worth it."
This profoundly cynical response was clearly not enough to harm her career, though. Following a Senate Foreign Relations Committee confirmation hearing that she opened by stating her determination to keep the sanctions in place, the Senate confirmed her appointment as Bill Clinton's secretary of state--by a 99-0 vote. (In a subsequent memoir, Albright expressed regret for her wording, but not the intent behind it.)
Moving on to today's pandemic enveloped world, where the U.S. currently imposes economic sanctions on Venezuela, Iran and 37 other countries, U.N. Secretary-General Antonio Guterres has called for "the waiving of sanctions imposed on countries to ensure access to food, essential health supplies, and COVID-19 medical support." But while a few of the more humane members of Congress have publicly espoused that view, official Washington has by and large remained inert, with the Trump Administration actually ratcheting up its sanctions against Venezuela in the midst of the crisis.
Of course, the fact that our sanctions exacerbate the effects of the same health disaster we currently confront at home is precisely the reason to suspend them, if not call them off entirely. But fortunately for the sanctions advocates, and unfortunately for their victims, sanctions sound so civilized. In many cases, the dividing line within the overall bipartisan Washington foreign policy consensus runs between the "hawks" who want to bomb a particular country and the "doves" who only want to impose economic sanctions.
That's just what they're designed to do--make life so miserable that if their government won't change the policies objectionable to the sanctioners, the sanctioned nation's people will rise up, overthrow their government, and replace it with one that the sanction-imposing nations find acceptable.
The truth is, as the Iraq example shows, sanctions kill. In regard to the current situation, in February, 2019, former United Nations special rapporteur to Venezuela Alfred de Zayas wrote that "the financial blockade and the sanctions have demonstrably caused hundreds of deaths directly related to the scarcity of food and medicines resulting from the blockade." The conclusions of an April, 2019 Center for Economic and Policy Research study were considerably more drastic, estimating the sanctions to have caused the death of 40,000 Venezuelans in 2017 and 2018. And that's just what they're designed to do--make life so miserable that if their government won't change the policies objectionable to the sanctioners, the sanctioned nation's people will rise up, overthrow their government, and replace it with one that the sanction-imposing nations find acceptable. Or, in the words of de Zayas, "It is all too obvious that the intention of the sanctions has been to asphyxiate the Venezuelan economy in the expectation that the Venezuelan people or the Venezuelan military will topple the Maduro government."
So they have proven deadly, one of their more insidious aspects being their ability to disproportionately affect the most vulnerable--the youngest, the oldest, the sickest, who suffer first and most from shortages of food and medical care. They have also proven effective back home in the U.S., so far as garnering media coverage that faults the Venezuelan government for its inability to deal with its ever mounting economic and health crises, while generally saying little if anything about the fact that the Venezuelan government's failures represent success for our government's policies.
What sanctions have not proven to be, however, is effective at their underlying goal of regime change. Saddam Hussein was ultimately overthrown--after 13 years of sanctions--only when the U.S. Government concocted a fraudulent rationale to actually invade the country. (And we know how well that has all turned out for the Iraqi people.)
Having so recently been party to one of the 100 deadliest events in human history, we might again cite George Santayana's observation that "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." Unfortunately, it appears to be a pillar of American foreign policy to do just that.
Following the assassination of Qassem Soleimani, war with Iran appears more likely than ever. Whether the conflict remains contained to proxies or escalates into full-on confrontation between U.S. and Iranian forces, Americans are likely to die as a result of Trump's decision to kill Soleimani.
The best way to reduce the risk of war is to get U.S. troops out of Iraq. Those currently stationed in Iraq are most vulnerable to attack from Iran and Iran-allied groups. Soleimani's assassination significantly elevated the risk to Americans in Iraq, (as acknowledged by the Trump administration when it instructed Americans to leave).
The crisis Trump created could also provide an opportunity. Trump and American policymakers can now act in the direct interests of the United States while also improving relations with Iraq, a key regional partner.
The Iraqi parliament passed a non-binding resolution on Sunday to cancel its military aid request to coalition forces, effectively reversing its 2014 invitation for U.S. troops to deploy to Iraq to fight and contain ISIS. Arguably, once ISIS had been deprived of all strategic territory as of December 2017, the U.S. should have pulled out, their mission accomplished.
The Iraqi parliament vote provides cover for the U.S. military to gracefully exit Iraq now. Removing U.S. troops affirms the authority of Iraq's parliament, while simultaneously reducing the threat to American lives. Moreover, withdrawing from Iraq reduces the likelihood of further escalation with Iran, while improving the U.S.-Iraq relationship, which had frayed the longer the U.S. stayed beyond its stated mission.
If U.S. troops in Iraq are attacked by Iran, the Trump administration will feel compelled to respond, and the U.S. will soon be fighting yet another war in the Middle East. Current circumstances are even more inclined towards war than the conditions that preceded the U.S. invasion of Iraq in 2003, which was not precipitated by an attack on U.S. forces.
The current U.S.-Iran relationship exhibits alarming parallels to U.S. relations with Iraq prior to the 2003 invasion. The U.S. had imposed heavy sanctions on Iraq, and was concerned about Iraq acquiring or possessing weapons of mass destruction. Iraq's leadership was seen as cruel, dictatorial, and illegitimate, which allowed Bush administration officials to claim the U.S. would be welcomed as "liberators."
Also similar to Iraq, the U.S. could probably defeat Iran in a conventional war. Yet the U.S. would face massive opposition and likely armed insurgency if it invades Iran, just like it did in Iraq.
Like with Iran now, the U.S. had no official diplomatic relations with Iraq between 1990 and 2003. U.S. officials had very little information about Iraqi society and in lieu of diplomatic expertise, the Bush team relied on a group of Iraqi exiles who were eager for the U.S. to overthrow Saddam Hussein's government. Yet these individuals had themselves been out of Iraq since the 1980s, had no support base within the country, and had no more accurate information about circumstances in Iraq than U.S. officials.
The exact same dynamics--the lack of understanding of state and society, of regime dynamics, of potential post-conflict evolution, and reliance on exiles with no public support inside the country--are present in Iran.
Moreover, war with and possible invasion of Iran would present greater difficulties than Iraq. Iran has a larger population and bigger GDP, despite sanctions. The Iranian government has greater legitimacy than Saddam Hussein's regime. Anti-government protestors have vanished in the wake of Soleimani's assassination, replaced by massive expressions of national unity and calls for retaliation against the U.S.
As in Iraq, the neoconservative agenda calls for regime change in Iran. Yet the decision to dismantle the Baathist regime and disband the Iraqi military led to the rise of ISIS. Although these choices are widely seen as some of the worst foreign policy blunders in recent American history, the U.S. is on the brink of implementing the same approach. To "make Iran safe for democracy," the entirety of the Iranian government and military would have to be demolished, similar to the policies implemented in Iraq. These actions, while not only requiring a huge coercive force and vast resources, would likely provoke even stronger resistance from Iranian society. Any military action would automatically bolster nationalism, already a potent force in Iran.
Conventional wisdom has it that Trump would rather avoid an all-out war with Iran and prefer instead to focus on re-election. He knows that his base likes when he puts "America First" by beating up on Iran on Twitter, but that is different from getting into what would be a messy, volatile, long-term conflict--and he knows it. However, Trump also knows that if U.S. soldiers were attacked by Iran--and a media narrative absolves Trump of responsibility for starting this whole mess--his base would rally around him. No war-time president has ever lost re-election. Although Trump has thus far managed to avoid provoking all-out war, the impeachment may have spurred him to adopt more extreme means of distraction.
The presence of U.S. troops in Iraq makes war with Iran significantly more likely. It was the continued presence of U.S. troops in Iraq that helped lead to the circumstances in which a U.S. military contractor was killed, provoking retaliatory airstrikes, and setting off a cascade of events resulting in the storming of the U.S. Embassy complex in Baghdad, which then apparently prompted the decision to target Soleimani.
There is a brief window within which American service members can be made more secure by withdrawing them from Iraq. This must occur before Iran or its allies attack them, and the U.S. is drawn into another war in the Middle East, one that is even more costly and destructive than the war in Iraq.
The on-going presence of American troops in the region does not enhance U.S. or regional security; it makes Americans more vulnerable to attack and further mired in endless wars in the region. That was true before the assassination of Soleimani, it is even more true today. It's time to bring the troops home to safety.
It's always the oil. While President Trump was hobnobbing with Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman at the G-20 summit in Japan, brushing off a recent U.N. report about the prince's role in the murder of Washington Post columnist Jamal Khashoggi, Secretary of State Mike Pompeo was in Asia and the Middle East, pleading with foreign leaders to support "Sentinel." The aim of that administration plan: to protect shipping in the Strait of Hormuz and the Persian Gulf. Both Trump and Pompeo insisted that their efforts were driven by concern over Iranian misbehavior in the region and the need to ensure the safety of maritime commerce. Neither, however, mentioned one inconvenient three-letter word -- O-I-L -- that lay behind their Iranian maneuvering (as it has impelled every other American incursion in the Middle East since World War II).
Now, it's true that the United States no longer relies on imported petroleum for a large share of its energy needs. Thanks to the fracking revolution, the country now gets the bulk of its oil -- approximately 75% -- from domestic sources. (In 2008, that share had been closer to 35%.) Key allies in NATO and rivals like China, however, continue to depend on Middle Eastern oil for a significant proportion of their energy needs. As it happens, the world economy -- of which the U.S. is the leading beneficiary (despite President Trump's self-destructive trade wars) -- relies on an uninterrupted flow of oil from the Persian Gulf to keep energy prices low. By continuing to serve as the principal overseer of that flow, Washington enjoys striking geopolitical advantages that its foreign policy elites would no more abandon than they would their country's nuclear supremacy.
This logic was spelled out clearly by President Barack Obama in a September 2013 address to the U.N. General Assembly in which he declared that "the United States of America is prepared to use all elements of our power, including military force, to secure our core interests" in the Middle East. He then pointed out that, while the U.S. was steadily reducing its reliance on imported oil, "the world still depends on the region's energy supply and a severe disruption could destabilize the entire global economy." Accordingly, he concluded, "We will ensure the free flow of energy from the region to the world."
To some Americans, that dictum -- and its continued embrace by President Trump and Secretary of State Pompeo -- may seem anachronistic. True, Washington fought wars in the Middle East when the American economy was still deeply vulnerable to any disruption in the flow of imported oil. In 1990, this was the key reason President George H.W. Bush gave for his decision to evict Iraqi troops from Kuwait after Saddam Hussein's invasion of that land. "Our country now imports nearly half the oil it consumes and could face a major threat to its economic independence," he told a nationwide TV audience. But talk of oil soon disappeared from his comments about what became Washington's first (but hardly last) Gulf War after his statement provoked widespread public outrage. ("No Blood for Oil" became a widely used protest sign then.) His son, the second President Bush, never even mentioned that three-letter word when announcing his 2003 invasion of Iraq. Yet, as Obama's U.N. speech made clear, oil remained, and still remains, at the center of U.S. foreign policy. A quick review of global energy trends helps explain why this has continued to be so.
The World's Undiminished Reliance on Petroleum
Despite all that's been said about climate change and oil's role in causing it -- and about the enormous progress being made in bringing solar and wind power online -- we remain trapped in a remarkably oil-dependent world. To grasp this reality, all you have to do is read the most recent edition of oil giant BP's "Statistical Review of World Energy," published this June. In 2018, according to that report, oil still accounted for by far the largest share of world energy consumption, as it has every year for decades. All told, 33.6% of world energy consumption last year was made up of oil, 27.2% of coal (itself a global disgrace), 23.9% of natural gas, 6.8% of hydro-electricity, 4.4% of nuclear power, and a mere 4% of renewables.
Most energy analysts believe that the global reliance on petroleum as a share of world energy use will decline in the coming decades, as more governments impose restrictions on carbon emissions and as consumers, especially in the developed world, switch from oil-powered to electric vehicles. But such declines are unlikely to prevail in every region of the globe and total oil consumption may not even decline. According to projections from the International Energy Agency (IEA) in its "New Policies Scenario" (which assumes significant but not drastic government efforts to curb carbon emissions globally), Asia, Africa, and the Middle East are likely to experience a substantially increased demand for petroleum in the years to come, which, grimly enough, means global oil consumption will continue to rise.
Concluding that the increased demand for oil in Asia, in particular, will outweigh reduced demand elsewhere, the IEA calculated in its 2017 World Energy Outlook that oil will remain the world's dominant source of energy in 2040, accounting for an estimated 27.5% of total global energy consumption. That will indeed be a smaller share than in 2018, but because global energy consumption as a whole is expected to grow substantially during those decades, net oil production could still rise -- from an estimated 100 million barrels a day in 2018 to about 105 million barrels in 2040.
Of course, no one, including the IEA's experts, can be sure how future extreme manifestations of global warming like the severe heat waves recently tormenting Europe and South Asia could change such projections. It's possible that growing public outrage could lead to far tougher restrictions on carbon emissions between now and 2040. Unexpected developments in the field of alternative energy production could also play a role in changing those projections. In other words, oil's continuing dominance could still be curbed in ways that are now unpredictable.
In the meantime, from a geopolitical perspective, a profound shift is taking place in the worldwide demand for petroleum. In 2000, according to the IEA, older industrialized nations -- most of them members of the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) -- accounted for about two-thirds of global oil consumption; only about a third went to countries in the developing world. By 2040, the IEA's experts believe that ratio will be reversed, with the OECD consuming about one-third of the world's oil and non-OECD nations the rest. More dramatic yet is the growing centrality of the Asia-Pacific region to the global flow of petroleum. In 2000, that region accounted for only 28% of world consumption; in 2040, its share is expected to stand at 44%, thanks to the growth of China, India, and other Asian countries, whose newly affluent consumers are already buying cars, trucks, motorcycles, and other oil-powered products.
Where will Asia get its oil? Among energy experts, there is little doubt on this matter. Lacking significant reserves of their own, the major Asian consumers will turn to the one place with sufficient capacity to satisfy their rising needs: the Persian Gulf. According to BP, in 2018, Japan already obtained 87% of its oil imports from the Middle East, India 64%, and China 44%. Most analysts assume these percentages will only grow in the years to come, as production in other areas declines.
This will, in turn, lend even greater strategic importance to the Persian Gulf region, which now possesses more than 60% of the world's untapped petroleum reserves, and to the Strait of Hormuz, the narrow passageway through which approximately one-third of the world's seaborne oil passes daily. Bordered by Iran, Oman, and the United Arab Emirates, the Strait is perhaps the most significant -- and contested -- geostrategic location on the planet today.
Controlling the Spigot
When the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan in 1979, the same year that militant Shiite fundamentalists overthrew the U.S.-backed Shah of Iran, U.S. policymakers concluded that America's access to Gulf oil supplies was at risk and a U.S. military presence was needed to guarantee such access. As President Jimmy Carter would say in his State of the Union Address on January 23, 1980,
"The region which is now threatened by Soviet troops in Afghanistan is of great strategic importance: It contains more than two thirds of the world's exportable oil... The Soviet effort to dominate Afghanistan has brought Soviet military forces to within 300 miles of the Indian Ocean and close to the Strait of Hormuz, a waterway through which most of the world's oil must flow... Let our position be absolutely clear: an attempt by any outside force to gain control of the Persian Gulf region will be regarded as an assault on the vital interests of the United States of America, and such an assault will be repelled by any means necessary, including military force."
To lend muscle to what would soon be dubbed the "Carter Doctrine," the president created a new U.S. military organization, the Rapid Deployment Joint Task Force (RDJTF), and obtained basing facilities for it in the Gulf region. Ronald Reagan, who succeeded Carter as president in 1981, made the RDJTF into a full-scale "geographic combatant command," dubbed Central Command, or CENTCOM, which continues to be tasked with ensuring American access to the Gulf today (as well as overseeing the country's never-ending wars in the Greater Middle East). Reagan was the first president to activate the Carter Doctrine in 1987 when he ordered Navy warships to escort Kuwaiti tankers, "reflagged" with the stars and stripes, as they traveled through the Strait of Hormuz. From time to time, such vessels had been coming under fire from Iranian gunboats, part of an ongoing "Tanker War," itself part of the Iran-Iraq War of those years. The Iranian attacks on those tankers were meant to punish Sunni Arab countries for backing Iraqi autocrat Saddam Hussein in that conflict. The American response, dubbed Operation Earnest Will, offered an early model of what Secretary of State Pompeo is seeking to establish today with his Sentinel program.
Operation Earnest Will was followed two years later by a massive implementation of the Carter Doctrine, President Bush's 1990 decision to push Iraqi forces out of Kuwait. Although he spoke of the need to protect U.S. access to Persian Gulf oil fields, it was evident that ensuring a safe flow of oil imports wasn't the only motive for such military involvement. Equally important then (and far more so now): the geopolitical advantage controlling the world's major oil spigot gave Washington.
When ordering U.S. forces into combat in the Gulf, American presidents have always insisted that they were acting in the interests of the entire West. In advocating for the "reflagging" mission of 1987, for instance, Secretary of Defense Caspar Weinberger argued (as he would later recall in his memoir Fighting for Peace), "The main thing was for us to protect the right of innocent, nonbelligerent and extremely important commerce to move freely in international open waters -- and, by our offering protection, to avoid conceding the mission to the Soviets." Though rarely so openly acknowledged, the same principle has undergirded Washington's strategy in the region ever since: the United States alone must be the ultimate guarantor of unimpeded oil commerce in the Persian Gulf.
Look closely and you can find this principle lurking in every fundamental statement of U.S. policy related to that region and among the Washington elite more generally. My own personal favorite, when it comes to pithiness, is a sentence in a report on the geopolitics of energy issued in 2000 by the Center for Strategic and International Studies, a Washington-based think tank well-populated with former government officials (several of whom contributed to the report): "As the world's only superpower, [the United States] must accept its special responsibilities for preserving access to [the] worldwide energy supply." You can't get much more explicit than that.
Of course, along with this "special responsibility" comes a geopolitical advantage: by providing this service, the United States cements its status as the world's sole superpower and places every other oil-importing nation -- and the world at large -- in a condition of dependence on its continued performance of this vital function.
Originally, the key dependents in this strategic equation were Europe and Japan, which, in return for assured access to Middle Eastern oil, were expected to subordinate themselves to Washington. Remember, for example, how they helped pay for Bush the elder's Iraq War (dubbed Operation Desert Storm). Today, however, many of those countries, deeply concerned with the effects of climate change, are seeking to lessen oil's role in their national fuel mixes. As a result, in 2019, the countries potentially most at the mercy of Washington when it comes to access to Gulf oil are economically fast-expanding China and India, whose oil needs are only likely to grow. That, in turn, will further enhance the geopolitical advantage Washington enjoyed as long as it remains the principal guardian of the flow of oil from the Persian Gulf. How it may seek to exploit this advantage remains to be seen, but there is no doubt that all parties involved, including the Chinese, are well aware of this asymmetric equation, which could give the phrase "trade war" a far deeper and more ominous meaning.
The Iranian Challenge and the Specter of War
From Washington's perspective, the principal challenger to America's privileged status in the Gulf is Iran. By reason of geography, that country possesses a potentially commanding position along the northern Gulf and the Strait of Hormuz, as the Reagan administration learned in 1987-1988 when it threatened American oil dominance there. About this reality President Reagan couldn't have been clearer. "Mark this point well: the use of the sea lanes of the Persian Gulf will not be dictated by the Iranians," he declared in 1987 -- and Washington's approach to the situation has never changed.
In more recent times, in response to U.S. and Israeli threats to bomb their nuclear facilities or, as the Trump administration has done, impose economic sanctions on their country, the Iranians have threatened on numerous occasions to block the Strait of Hormuz to oil traffic, squeeze global energy supplies, and precipitate an international crisis. In 2011, for example, Iranian Vice President Mohammad Reza Rahimi warned that, should the West impose sanctions on Iranian oil, "not even one drop of oil can flow through the Strait of Hormuz." In response, U.S. officials have vowed ever since to let no such thing happen, just as Secretary of Defense Leon Panetta did in response to Rahimi at that time. "We have made very clear," he said, "that the United States will not tolerate blocking of the Strait of Hormuz." That, he added, was a "red line for us."
It remains so today. Hence, the present ongoing crisis in the Gulf, with fierce U.S. sanctions on Iranian oil sales and threatening Iranian gestures toward the regional oil flow in response. "We will make the enemy understand that either everyone can use the Strait of Hormuz or no one," said Mohammad Ali Jafari, commander of Iran's elite Revolutionary Guards, in July 2018. And attacks on two oil tankers in the Gulf of Oman near the entrance to the Strait of Hormuz on June 13th could conceivably have been an expression of just that policy, if -- as claimed by the U.S. -- they were indeed carried out by members of the Revolutionary Guards. Any future attacks are only likely to spur U.S. military action against Iran in accordance with the Carter Doctrine. As Pentagon spokesperson Bill Urban put it in response to Jafari's statement, "We stand ready to ensure the freedom of navigation and the free flow of commerce wherever international law allows."
As things stand today, any Iranian move in the Strait of Hormuz that can be portrayed as a threat to the "free flow of commerce" (that is, the oil trade) represents the most likely trigger for direct U.S. military action. Yes, Tehran's pursuit of nuclear weapons and its support for radical Shiite movements throughout the Middle East will be cited as evidence of its leadership's malevolence, but its true threat will be to American dominance of the oil lanes, a danger Washington will treat as the offense of all offenses to be overcome at any cost.
If the United States goes to war with Iran, you are unlikely to hear the word "oil" uttered by top Trump administration officials, but make no mistake: that three-letter word lies at the root of the present crisis, not to speak of the world's long-term fate.
As the Trump administration's saber-rattling toward Iran threatens another disastrous war in the Middle East, foreign policy has gained newfound focus in the 2020 presidential race. And former Vice President Joe Biden's 2002 vote in favor of the Iraq War leaves him with a particularly glaring vulnerability.
Biden's vote had already become a sticking point in the race before President Trump began his provocations toward Iran in earnest. Bernie Sanders has used Biden's record to draw a contrast with his own opposition to the Iraq War. Rep. Seth Moulton, another 2020 candidate, has called for Biden to admit he was wrong for casting the vote. And a recent POLITICO/Morning Consult poll showed more than 40 percent of respondents between 18 and 29 were less likely to back Biden because of it.
But to say the now-Democratic frontrunner voted for the Iraq War doesn't fully describe his role in what has come to be widely acknowledged as the most disastrous foreign policy decision of the 21st century. A review of the historical record shows Biden didn't just vote for the war--he was a leading Democratic voice in its favor, and played an important role in persuading the public of its necessity and, more broadly, laying the groundwork for Bush's invasion.
In the wake of September 11th, Biden stood as a leading Democratic voice on foreign policy, chairing the powerful Senate Foreign Relations Committee. As President Bush attempted to sell the U.S. public on the war, Biden became one of the administration's steadfast allies in this cause, backing claims about the supposed threat posed by Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein and insisting on the necessity of removing him from power.
Biden did attempt to placate Democrats by criticizing Bush on procedural grounds while largely affirming his case for war, even as he painted himself as an opponent of Bush and the war in front of liberal audiences. In the months leading up to and following the invasion, Biden would make repeated, contradictory statements about his position on the issue, eventually casting himself as an unrepentant backer of the war effort just as the public and his own party began to sour on it.

From dove to hawk
Biden hadn't always been a hawk on Iraq. He had voted against the first Gulf War in 1991, though even his opposition to that war had been tepid at best, focused mainly on badgering George H.W. Bush into having Congress rubber stamp a war Bush had already made clear he was intent on waging with or without its approval.
In 1996 Biden criticized Republican claims that then-President Bill Clinton wasn't being tough enough on Iraq amid calls to remove Saddam Hussein from power, labeling an ouster "not a doable policy." Before the War on Terror drove U.S. foreign policy, Biden criticized Bush during his first year in office for the then-president's hawkish position on missile defense.
September 11th changed all this. Only one day before the attacks, at a speech in front of the National Press Club, Biden had called Bush's foreign policy ideas "absolute lunacy" and charged that his missile defense system proposal would "begin a news arms race." But the nearly 3,000 Americans who were killed on U.S. soil that day upended the political consensus. Bush's approval rating shot up to a historic 90 percent, and any elected officials who failed to match the president's zeal for military retribution became vulnerable to accusations of being "soft on terror."
"Count me in the 90 percent," Biden said in the weeks after the attack. There was "total cohesion," he said, between Democrats and Republicans in the challenges ahead. "There is no daylight between us."
In November 2002, just a little over a year following the World Trade Center attacks, Biden faced re-election amidst a political climate in which the Bush administration had incited nationalist sentiment over the issue of terrorism. In October 2001, Biden had been criticized in Delaware newspapers for comments that were perceived as potentially weak, warning that the United States could be seen as a "high-tech bully" if it failed to put boots on the ground in Afghanistan and instead relied on a protracted bombing campaign to oust the Taliban.
Consequently, Biden, then deemed by the New Republic to be the Democratic Party's "de facto spokesman on the war against terrorism," quickly became a close ally of the Bush administration in its prosecution of that war. The White House installed a special secure phone line to Biden's home, and he and three other members of Congress met privately with Bush in October 2001 to come up with a positive public relations message for the war in Afghanistan.
Biden's stance on Iraq soon began to change, too. In November 2001, Biden had batted away suggestions of regime change, saying the United States should defeat al-Qaeda and Osama bin Laden before thinking about other targets. By February 2002, he appeared to have creaked opened the door to the possibility of an invasion.
"If Saddam Hussein is still there five years from now, we are in big trouble," he told a crowd of 400 Delaware National Guard officers that month at the annual Officers Call event.
"It would be unrealistic, if not downright foolish, to believe we can claim victory in the war on terrorism if Saddam is still in power," he said around the same time, echoing the language of hawks like Connecticut Sen. Joe Lieberman.
Biden soon developed the position he would hold for the following 13 months leading into Bush's March 2003 invasion of Iraq: While the Bush administration was entirely justified in its plans to remove Hussein from power in Iraq, it had to do a better job of selling the inevitable war to the U.S. public and the international community.
"There is overwhelming support for the proposition that Saddam Hussein should be removed from power," he said in March 2002, while noting that divisions remained about how exactly that would be done. If the administration wanted his support, Biden continued, they would have to make "a complete and thorough case" that Iraq possessed weapons of mass destruction (WMDs) and to outline what they envisioned a post-Hussein Iraq would look like.
It was a stance well-calibrated for the political climate. Biden could continue to point to disagreements with the administration for liberal audiences, even if they were merely procedural, while putting his weight behind the ultimate goal of war with Iraq. At the same time, Biden's apparent criticisms doubled as advice for the administration: If you want buy-in from liberals for your war, this is what you'll have to do.
"I don't know a single informed person who is suggesting you can take down Saddam and not be prepared to stay for two, four, five years to give the country a chance to be held together," Biden recounted telling Bush privately in June 2002. It was a talking point he would repeat often over the next year, that regime change in Iraq was the correct thing to do, but would require a long-term commitment from the United States after Hussein's removal.
Setting the ground rules
During frequent television appearances, Biden didn't just insist on the necessity of removing Hussein from power, but appeared to signal to the Bush administration on what grounds it could safely seek military action against Iraq.
When Bush's directive to the CIA to step up support for Iraqi opposition groups and even possibly capture and kill Hussein was leaked to the Washington Post in June, Biden gave it his approval. Asked on CBS's "Face the Nation" if the plan gave him any pause, Biden replied: "Only if it doesn't work."
"If the covert action doesn't work, we'd better be prepared to move forward with another action, an overt action, and it seems to me that we can't afford to miss," he added.
"Prominent Democrats endorse administration plan to remove Iraqi leader from power," ran the subsequent Associated Press headline.
A month later in July, Biden affirmed that Congress would back Bush in a pre-emptive strike on Iraq in the event of a "clear and present danger" and if "the president can make the case that we're about to be attacked."
Asked on "Fox News Sunday" the same month if a discovery that Hussein was in league with al-Qaeda would justify an invasion, Biden replied: "If he can prove that, yes, he would have the authority in my view."
"And this will be the first time ever in the history of the United States of America that we have essentially invaded another country preemptively to take out a leadership, I think justifiably given the case being made."
These themes would be used by the Bush administration in the months ahead to sell the war to the American public. The non-existent ties between Hussein and al-Qaeda became one of the most high-profile talking points for the war's proponents. And the Bush administration would publicize the supposedly imminent threat Hussein posed to the United States, including then-National Security Advisor Condoleezza Rice's infamous September declaration that "we don't want the smoking gun to be a mushroom cloud."
By July Biden appeared to rule out a diplomatic solution to the conflict. "Dialogue with Saddam is useless," he said.

Not a skeptic to be heard
It was also in July 2002 that Biden carried out one of his most consequential actions in the lead-up to the Iraq War, when he held several days of congressional hearings about the then-potential invasion.
Biden stressed the hearings weren't meant to antagonize the White House. Rather, as he explained, they would inform the American people about the stakes of the conflict and the logistical issues involved in waging it.
At the time, the pro-war stance shared by the administration, much of the press, and Democrats like Biden was by no means unanimous. Many of the United States' closest allies in Europe (apart from Tony Blair's British government) were wary of the war drums beating from Washington, as were many Arab states. In July, King Abdullah II of Jordan, a U.S. ally in the Middle East, called the idea of an invasion "somewhat ludicrous."
The same month, the Houston Chronicle reported, based on interviews with anonymous officials, that a number of senior military officials, including members of the joint chiefs of staff, were in disagreement with the White House's drive for war with Iraq, and believed that Hussein posed no immediate threat to the United States. The day before the hearings, Scott Ritter, the former chief weapons inspector at the UN, cautioned that it was far from "inevitable" that Iraq had restarted its weapons program, and warned that "Biden's open embrace of regime removal in Baghdad" threatened to make the hearings "devolve into a political cover" for Congress to authorize Bush's war.
Yet as Stephen Zunes reported for The Progressive in April 2019, none of these views were aired at Biden's hearings, which opened with Biden stating that WMDs "must be dislodged from Saddam, or Saddam must be dislodged from power," and that "if we wait for the danger from Saddam to become clear, it could be too late." Ritter himself was never invited to testify.
Neither were other experts critical of the Bush narrative on Iraq, including Rolf Ekeus, the former executive chairman of the United Nations Special Commission, the inspection regime set up after the Gulf War to deal with WMDs, and former UN Assistant Secretary General Hans Von Sponeck, who complained that he was "very agitated by the deliberate distortions and misrepresentations" that made it "look to the average person in the U.S. as if Iraq is a threat to their security." According to Biden, Bush later thanked him for the hearings.
By Zunes' count, none of the 18 witnesses who were called objected to the idea that Hussein had WMDs, and all three witnesses who testified on the subject of al-Qaeda claimed the organization received direct support from Iraq--the very red line Biden had said would give Bush the authority to invade the country. Out of the 12 witnesses who discussed an invasion, half were in favor and only two opposed. Biden himself said throughout the hearings that Iraq was a national security threat.
It was largely up to Republicans on the committee--namely Lincoln Chafee and Chuck Hagel--to voice skepticism about a war effort. Ritter accused Biden and other members of congress of having "preordained a conclusion that seeks to remove Saddam Hussein from power regardless of the facts." Indeed, on the day of the hearings, Biden had co-authored a New York Times op-ed suggesting that continued "containment" of Hussein "raises the risk that Mr. Hussein will play cat-and-mouse with inspectors while building more weapons," and that "if we wait for the danger to become clear and present, it may be too late."
Having given a platform to pro-war talking points, Biden then hit the talk show circuit to cite the lopsided testimony he himself had arranged in order to argue for war. Determining Hussein's intentions was "like reading the entrails of goats," Biden told NBC's "Meet the Press," and what mattered more was Hussein's ability to use WMDs, whatever those intentions might be. He pointed to testimony in the July hearings to argue it was clear that Iraq had such weapons.
"We have no choice but to eliminate the threat," he said. "This is a guy who's an extreme danger to the world."
While the mainstream press featured few skeptical and anti-war voices at the time, a number of them assailed Biden for going along with the Bush administration.
"Biden apparently believes that he fulfills the constitutional function of advise and consent by merely being the cheerleader for the administration's rising chorus demanding war with Iraq," wrote Stanley Kutler in the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel. "When and how are the only questions in his repertoire."

"A course of moderation and deliberation"
By fall 2002, Bush appeared to have heeded Biden's frequent exhortations for how to sell the war.
On September 12, almost a year to the day of the terrorist attacks that had sparked the march to war, Bush went before the UN to make a case for an invasion directly to the international community. Biden praised him for doing "a very good job" in making that case with a "brilliant" speech, and again stressed that "this is the world's fight," though cautioning that "the worst option is going it alone, but it is an option."
That September, Bush also finally asked Congress for a war authorization. While the president backed an expansive resolution in the House, Biden and fellow Foreign Relations Committee member Richard Lugar (R-Ind.) put forward their own rival resolution in the Senate that scaled back some of the House version's more alarming language and stressed the themes Biden had been articulating for the better part of a year. The Senate resolution limited the use of force to Iraq, made dismantling WMDs the primary justification for war, and stressed the importance of international support (though reserving the right to act unilaterally if the UN Security Council moved too slowly).
"We are trying to give the president the power that he needs and get a large vote," Biden explained.
Bush quickly routed Biden by making a compromise with Democratic House Minority Leader Dick Gephardt that swung momentum behind the House resolution. Deciding it was too late, and that there was no way of stopping its passage, Biden simply resigned himself to the compromise House resolution.
"In this place, everybody's pretty practical at the end of the day," he said.
Bush ultimately won over Biden by incorporating several of his suggestions into the final resolution and a speech he gave on October 7, 2002, in which he painted Iraq as a "grave threat to peace" creating an "arsenal of terror." He had "made a compelling case," said Biden, who was "very pleased with his rationale that he laid out."
While Biden reportedly wavered at the last moment on his promise to cast his vote, he ultimately fell in line, arguing the resolution would "give the president the kind of momentum he needs" to get Security Council backing. On October 11, Biden was one of 77 senators who voted to give Bush the authorization to wage war on Iraq, joining fellow Democrats such as Hillary Clinton, Chuck Schumer, Harry Reid and Dianne Feinstein. Twenty-one Democratic senators, including Dick Durbin, Ron Wyden and Patrick Leahy, voted against it.
"At each pivotal moment, [President Bush] has chosen a course of moderation and deliberation," Biden said on the Senate floor. "I believe he will continue to do so ... the president has made it clear that war is neither imminent nor inevitable."
A month later, Biden sailed to a sixth term to the Senate with 58 percent of the vote.
"Powerful and irrefutable"
Biden wasn't as eager to tout his leading role in the lead-up to the Iraq War in front of all audiences.
On November 11, 2002, Biden gave a speech at a meeting of the Trotter Group, an organization of African-American columnists. Perhaps owing to strong black opposition to the war, including the NAACP board's October 28, 2002, adoption of a resolution opposing the invasion, Biden sounded very different notes in front of the audience. He denied there was a direct link between Hussein and al-Qaeda ("I don't consider the war on Iraq the war on terror") and struck a less hawkish note ("My hope is that we don't need to go into Iraq").
After chairing hearings filled with pro-war testimony, Biden told the Trotter Group crowd that "the guys who have to fight this war don't think it's a good idea," and that doing so would be "the dumbest thing in the world." Discussing the war authorization he had voted for, he claimed that Republicans had taken "something that nobody, including the president, believes is an imminent danger and moved it up in the election cycle," and that he reluctantly supported the final resolution in order to give then-Secretary of State Colin Powell leverage to get a resolution out of the UN that would slow the administration's march to war.
Yet even as he painted himself as a war opponent, Biden's role in making the war happen wasn't finished.
In December 2002, Biden embarked on a trip to Germany and the Middle East with Republican Sen. Chuck Hagel to cobble together a coalition for the impending war. He first flew to Germany to meet with an Iraqi resistance leader, then headed to Jordan to meet with its monarch, before stopping in Israel and Qatar. The Delaware Republican Party sent him its best wishes.
"We wish the senator good luck and hope he continues to support the president on foreign-policy matters," its chairman said.
At one point, Biden spoke to the Kurd Parliament in Kurdish-controlled northern Iraq, carved out in the wake of the first Gulf War. Biden made clear to the Kurds, longtime opponents of Hussein's regime, that the United States had their back.
"We will stand with you in your effort to build a united Iraq," he told them, adding that "the mountains are not your only friends," playing off a local saying.
As Colin Powell prepared to present supposed evidence of Iraq's WMD program to the UN in February--a factually flawed address that Powell two years later would call a "blot" on his record--Biden hyped the presentation to the press, saying the administration "has evidence now that can change people's minds."
"I know there's enough circumstantial evidence that if this were a jury trial, I could convict you," he said. After Powell's address, Biden called his case "very powerful and I think irrefutable," and told him, "I am proud to be associated with you."
At the same time, Biden spent much of the rest of the month leading up to invasion painting himself as its opponent. He criticized Bush for everything but the actual decision to remove Hussein: for failing to make a sufficiently strong case to the public, for not securing more international buy-in for the invasion, for keeping Congress out of the loop and for grossly lackluster planning for postwar Iraq.
"As every hour goes by, I think the chance of war is increasing," he said in early March, five months after voting to give Bush the power to invade Iraq. "I was hoping it wasn't, hoping there was a shot at doing this peacefully, but that looks slimmer and slimmer."
Yet even after Bush failed to secure the international cooperation Biden had spent months insisting was necessary, the lack of support wasn't enough to convince Biden to abandon his support. As Bush issued an ultimatum to Hussein on March 17--leave or be invaded--Biden was behind him.
"I support the president," he said after meeting with Bush and other officials before the ultimatum. "Diplomacy over avoiding war is dead. ... I do not see any alternative. It is not as if we can back away now."
Biden portrayed himself as someone who had been powerless to stop the conflict.
"A lot of Americans, myself included, are really concerned about how we got to this stage and about all the lost opportunities for diplomacy," he said. "But we are where we are. ... Let loose the dogs of war. I'm confident we will win." He and the rest of the Democrats voted to pass a Senate resolution 99-0 supporting Bush and commending the troops.
Months after the war was launched and Hussein was deposed, any reservations Biden claimed to have had about the war appeared to melt away.
"I, for one, thought we should have gone in Iraq," he told CNN in June 2003, while noting that not all Democrats had been as enthusiastic about invading the country.
With the much-ballyhooed WMDs failing to materialize, Biden cast himself as a skeptic about the administration's claims about their existence.
"I also said at the time, as far back as August, that I thought the administration was exaggerating the threat of weapons of mass destruction," he told CNN
During an appearance on "Fox News Sunday" later that month, he told host Tony Snow that he had never believed the Bush administration's rhetoric on the issue, and that it had erred in exaggerating the threat, as there was sufficient grounds to invade Iraq based on the weapons it was reported to have in 1998.
"So you think, looking back on it, still, that it was a just war, in your opinion?" asked Snow.
"Oh, I do think it was a just war," said Biden.
After playing a clip of then-presidential candidate Howard Dean boasting of his opposition to the war even at the height of its popularity, Snow asked Biden if Dean's position should be the consensus view of the Democratic Party.
"No," Biden flatly replied.
Even as the war effort rapidly went awry in the months that followed, with U.S. soldier deaths continuing to climb after major combat operations were declared over on May 1 and terrorist attacks becoming a regular feature of Iraqi life, Biden continued to insist that war had been the right course of action.
"I voted to go into Iraq, and I'd vote to do it again," he said at a July 2003 hearing.
As growing numbers of Democrats, and even members of the general public, turned against the war, Biden rebuked them, implicitly and explicitly.
"In my view, anyone who can't acknowledge that the world is better off without [Hussein] is out of touch," he said two days later.
"Contrary to what some in my party might think, Iraq was a problem that had to be dealt with sooner rather than later," he insisted.
An increasingly lonely voice in a party that would soon make common cause with the growing anti-war movement, Biden continued to back Bush.
"The president made [the case against Saddam] well," he concluded on July 31. "I commend the president."
No regrets
In the eyes of the public, a vote for the resolution that gave Bush the authority to wage war on Iraq is enough to cast serious doubt on a candidate's judgment, as Hillary Clinton learned in 2016. But the fact is, Joe Biden did a lot more than cast a vote.
As an experienced and respected voice on foreign policy, a powerful Democrat, and someone widely perceived as a dove due to his opposition to the Vietnam war, Biden's backing of regime change in Iraq was crucial to Bush's effort of selling the public on the war. Biden's insistence that Hussein posed a serious threat to the United States, possessed WMDs and needed to be removed from power helped create momentum for the rising pro-war campaign. And as chair of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, rather than question the prominent voices of doubt, including senior members of the U.S. military, Biden stacked his Iraq hearings with voices in agreement with Bush's fallacious case for war.
Hillary Clinton's hawkishness--including her vote for the Iraq war--was one of several factors that likely contributed to her 2016 loss to Donald Trump in key traditional Democratic states. But beyond arguments about electability, the next president will inherit a volatile world on the brink of several different conflicts, including a possible showdown with Iran. When voters choose the next Democratic nominee, they'll have to decide whether someone who helped lead the march to war in Iraq is really the best person to take on Trump--and guide U.S. foreign policy as president.