In a week
dominated by the CIA the Agency of the 1950s, 60s, and
70s it might be easy enough to forget the Agency of the
new century, the one known for creating its own offshore Bermuda
triangle of injustice, including a global system of secret (or
borrowed) prisons, as well as for kidnappings,
ghost prisoners, torture, assassination, covert
programs aimed at "regime
change" in countries like (as in 1953)
Iran, and, of course, everything we don't yet know because the
"family jewels" for this period are nowhere near being released.
Note, by the way, that even the recently released "family jewels"
from that older era are not
complete and remain heavily redacted in the case of
one
document (scroll down), far more so than in a version that
was released in the 1970s.
In addition,
this cache of documents seems to deal only passingly, at best,
with the Vietnam War, despite the CIA's infamous Phoenix Program;
nor does it focus on the Agency's covert wars and other major
actions abroad, many of which were laid out in Roger Morris' three-part
profile
of Robert Gates at this site. Of course, one difference between
those ancient decades and today is that the CIA is now but one
jostling agency among the 16 that make up the official American
"Intelligence
Community," whose combined budget, while unknown, runs into
the many tens of billions of dollars.
All that's
missing, as Thomas Powers, an expert on the CIA and author of
Intelligence
Wars, makes so clear in the following essay, posted at
this site thanks to the kindness of the editors of the
New York Review of Books, is actual, serviceable "intelligence."
~ Tom
How we got
into Iraq is the great open question of the decade but George
Tenet in his memoir of his seven years running the Central Intelligence
Agency takes his sweet time working his way around to it. He hesitates
because he has much to explain: the claims made by Tenet's CIA
with "high confidence" that Iraq was dangerously armed all proved
false. But mistakes are one thing, excusable even when serious;
inexcusable would be charges of collusion in deceiving Congress
and the public to make war possible. Tenet's overriding goal in
his carefully written book is to deny "that we somehow cooked
the books" about Iraq's weapons of mass destruction. If he says
it once he says it a dozen times. "We told the president what
we did on Iraq WMD because we believed it."
But repetition
is not enough. Tenet's problem is that the intelligence and the
war proceeded in lockstep: no intelligence, no war. Since Tenet
delivered the (shockingly exaggerated) intelligence, and the President
used it to go to war, how is Tenet to convince the world that
he wasn't simply giving the boss what he wanted? Tenet naturally
dislikes this question but it is evident that the American public
and Congress dislike it just as much. Down that road lie painful
truths about the character and motives of the President and the
men and women around him. But getting out of Iraq will not be
easy, and the necessary first step is to find the civic courage
to insist on knowing how we got in. Tenet's memoir is an excellent
place to begin; some of what he tells us and much that he leaves
out point unmistakably to the genesis of the war in the White
House the very last thing Tenet wants to address clearly.
He sidles up to the question at last on page 301: "One of the
great mysteries to me," he writes, "is exactly when the war in
Iraq became inevitable."
Hans Blix,
director of the United Nations weapons inspection team, did not
believe that war was inevitable until the shooting started. In
Blix's view, reported in his memoir Disarming
Iraq, the failure of his inspectors to find Saddam Hussein's
WMD meant that a US invasion of Iraq could certainly be put off,
perhaps avoided altogether. For Blix it was all about the weapons.
Tenet's version of events makes it clear that WMD, despite all
the ballyhoo, were in fact secondary; something else was driving
events.
Tenet's
omissions begin on Day Two of the march to war, September 12,
2001, when three British officials came to CIA headquarters "just
for the night, to express their condolences and to be with us.
We had dinner that night at Langley,….as touching an event as
I experienced during my seven years as DCI." This would have been
an excellent place to describe the genesis of the war but Tenet
declines. We must fill in the missing pieces ourselves.
The guests
that night were David Manning, barely a week into his new job
as Tony Blair's personal foreign policy adviser; Richard Dearlove,
chief of the British secret intelligence service known as MI6,
a man Tenet already knew well; and Eliza Manningham-Buller, the
deputy chief of MI5, the British counterpart to the FBI. Despite
the ban on air traffic, Dearlove and Manningham-Buller had flown
into Andrews Air Force Base near Washington that day. But David
Manning was already inside the United States. The day before the
attack on the World Trade Center, on September 10, he had been
in Washington for a dinner with Condoleezza Rice at the home of
the British ambassador, Christopher Meyer. Early on September
11 Manning took the shuttle to New York and from his airplane
window on the approach to Kennedy Airport he saw smoke rising
from one of the World Trade Center towers. By the time he landed
the second tower had been struck.
It took
a full day for the British embassy to fetch Manning back to Washington
by car, and he arrived at Langley that night carrying the burden
of what he had seen. It was a largish group that gathered for
dinner. Along with the three British guests and Tenet were Jim
Pavitt and his deputy at the CIA's Directorate for Operations;
Tenet's executive secretary Buzzy Krongard; the chief of the Counter
Terrorism Center, Cofer Black; the acting director of the FBI,
Thomas Pickard; the chief of the CIA's Near East Division, still
not identified; and the chief of the CIA's European Division,
Tyler Drumheller.
Tenet names
his British guests, but omits all that was said. Tyler Drumheller,
barred by the CIA from identifying the visitors in his own recent
memoir, On the Brink, reports an exchange between Manning
and Tenet, who were probably meeting for the first time. "I hope
we can all agree," said Manning, "that we should concentrate on
Afghanistan and not be tempted to launch any attacks on Iraq."
"Absolutely,"
Tenet replied, "we all agree on that. Some might want to link
the issues, but none of us wants to go that route."
Manning
already understood that people close to President Bush wanted
to go after Iraq, and Tenet of course knew it too. Conspicuous
among them, in his mind that night, was the neo-conservative agitator
and polemicist Richard Perle, an outspoken advocate of removing
Saddam Hussein by military force. On the very first page of Tenet's
memoir, he tells us that he had run into Perle that very morning
September 12 – as Perle was leaving the West Wing of the
White House. They knew each other in a passing way, as figures
of note on the Washington scene. As Tenet reached the door Perle
turned to him and said, "Iraq has to pay a price for what happened
yesterday. They bear responsibility."
This made
a powerful impression on the director of the CIA:
"I
was stunned but said nothing.... At the Secret Service security
checkpoint, I looked back at Perle and thought: What the hell
is he talking about? Moments later, a second thought came to me:
Who has Richard Perle been meeting with in the White House so
early in the morning on today of all days? I never learned the
answer to that question."
The meeting
with Perle and the dinner with Manning and Dearlove took place
on Wednesday. On Saturday, Tenet was at Camp David where President
Bush was weighing the American response to the attacks of September
11. During the discussion, arguments for removing Saddam were
pressed by Paul Wolfowitz, another neoconservative and longtime
friend of Perle who was the deputy secretary of defense under
Donald Rumsfeld. "The president listened to Paul's views," Tenet
writes, "but, fairly quickly, it seemed to me, dismissed them."
The vote against including Iraq "in our immediate response plans"
was four to zero against, with Rumsfeld abstaining. Tenet adds,
"I recall no mention of WMD."
Four days
later, at a meeting in the White House, Bush made a request of
Tenet. Through a video hookup Vice President Dick Cheney was in
the room as well. "I want to know about links between Saddam and
al Qaeda," said the President. "The Vice President knows some
things that might be helpful."
What the
Vice President thought he knew was that one of the September 11
hijackers, Mohamed Atta, had met in Prague earlier in the year
with an official of Iraqi intelligence. Tenet responded within
days to say that evidence from phone calls and credit cards demonstrated
that Atta was in the United States at the time of the alleged
meeting, living in a Virginia apartment not far from the CIA.
A proven link between Saddam and September 11 would have ended
the debate about "regime change" right there. None was ever established,
then or later, but Cheney and his personal national security adviser,
I. Lewis Libby, known by his nickname as Scooter, argued and reargued
the case for the link until the eve of war. Often they went to
the agency personally, bringing fresh allegations acquired from
their own sources, and pressing CIA analysts to "re-look" the
evidence.
Under continuing
White House pressure the agency treated their claims respectfully.
Analysts conceded that "cooperation, safe haven, training, and
reciprocal nonaggression" were all discussed by al-Qaeda and Iraqi
officials. "But operational direction and control?" Tenet asks.
"No."
The Vice
President did not take no for an answer. He often cited the link
in public and he wanted the CIA to back him up. In June 2002,
the deputy director for intelligence, Jami Miscik, complained
to Tenet that Scooter Libby and Paul Wolfowitz would not let the
subject drop. Tenet reports that he told Miscik to "just say ‘we
stand by what we previously wrote.'" But six months later, in
January 2003, Stephen Hadley at the National Security Council
summoned Miscik to the White House for yet another revision of
a "link" paper. Infuriated, Miscik went to Tenet's office and
told him she would resign before she would change another word.
Tenet says he called Hadley. "‘Steve,' I said, ‘knock this off.
The paper is done.... Jami is not coming down there to discuss
it anymore.'"
Ron Suskind
tells the same story but quotes Tenet differently on the phone
to Hadley: "It is fucking over. Do you hear me! And don't you
ever fucking treat my people this way again. Ever!" Even that
was not the end. In mid-March 2003, less than a week before the
U.S. launched its attack, Cheney sent a speech over to the CIA
for review making all the old arguments that there was a "link."
Tenet tells us that he telephoned Bush to say, "The vice president
wants to make a speech about Iraq and al-Qa'ida that goes way
beyond what the intelligence shows. We cannot support the speech,
and it should not be given."
Why did
Cheney press this point so relentlessly? Tenet tells a story that
helps to explain the motives behind the struggle over "intelligence"
between September 11 and the day American cruise missiles began
to land on Baghdad, eighteen months later. Only a few days after
September 11, Tenet writes, a CIA analyst attended a White House
meeting where he was told that Bush wanted to remove Saddam. The
analyst's response, according to Tenet:
"If
you want to go after that son of a bitch to settle old scores,
be my guest. But don't tell us he is connected to 9/11 or to terrorism
because there is no evidence to support that. You will have to
have a better reason."
The better
reason eventually settled on by President Bush was Saddam Hussein's
weapons of mass destruction. The evidence for WMD turned out to
be even weaker than the evidence for "the link," but Cheney, with
the full backing of the White House and the National Security
Council, hammered without let-up on the horrific consequences
of error discovering too late that Iraq had nuclear weapons
meant that the smoking gun would be a mushroom cloud. It was vaguely
believed at the time, by the public and foreign intelligence services
alike, that the CIA must have learned something new; why else
in early 2002 had Saddam Hussein suddenly become a threat to the
world?
In fact
only one thing had changed the American frame of mind,
something clearly understood by advisers to Britain's Tony Blair,
who had decided immediately after September 11 that he was going
to back the American response, whatever it was. David Manning's
hope, expressed at his dinner with Tenet, that the Americans would
settle for the invasion of Afghanistan and the overthrow of the
Taliban was soon dashed. A week later Tony Blair himself was at
the White House. Bush took him immediately by the elbow, according
to the British ambassador, Christopher Meyer, and moved the prime
minister off into a corner of the room.
Don't get
distracted, Blair told the President; Taliban first.
"I agree
with you, Tony," Bush replied. "We must deal with this first.
But when we have dealt with Afghanistan, we must come back to
Iraq."
The Taliban
were in retreat by the end of the year; on March 1, Robert Einhorn,
an assistant secretary of state for nonproliferation, testified
in Congress that Bush had come back to Iraq: "A consensus seems
to be developing in Washington in favor of ‘regime change' in
Iraq, if necessary through the use of military force."
As it happened,
it took a year to get from point A to point B from developing
consensus to war. During that year George Tenet's CIA played an
indispensable part in raising fears of Saddam Hussein's weapons
of mass destruction, but in his memoir Tenet is reluctant to approach
the Iraq problem. He writes proudly of the agency's success in
removing the Taliban which was in fact a marvel of the
light touch, especially in retrospect and insists he was
slow to recognize that Iraq was next:
"My
many sleepless nights back then didn't center on Saddam Hussein.
Al-Qa'ida occupied my nightmares.... Looking back, I wish I could
have devoted equal energy and attention to Iraq.... Iraq deserved
more of my time. But the simple fact is that I didn't see that
freight train coming as early as I should have."
When did
war become inevitable? When did Tenet see the freight train coming?
Does he really hope to convince us that it took him longer than
the British, who signed on for war at a meeting with Bush at his
Texas ranch in April 2002?
What we
know about the extraordinarily close British-American relationship
in the run-up to war comes mainly from a series of high-level
British government papers known collectively as "the Downing Street
memos."5 An unknown person gave them to the British newspaper
correspondent Michael Smith a first batch of six, in September
2004, when Smith was working for the Telegraph; and two
more the following May after Smith had moved over to the London
Times. These documents reveal British plans in a language
of bald directness and candor. There is no fudge; there is no
evasion of awkward fact; there is frank admission of where they
want to get and how they plan to get there.
The British
had no objection to overthrowing Saddam by military means but
feared that the American willingness to go it alone would undermine
the case, anger the world, and make it impossible for Britain
to take part. The solution was to cast Saddam as the villain,
and the British saw promise in his serial rejection of UN resolutions.
If he could be coaxed to defy one last and final offer to disarm,
worded carefully to make UN demands sound fair, then the world
might come around to seeing war as reasonable. This was the strategy
the British hoped to sell to the Americans in the spring of 2002.
In a first step, David Manning in mid-March flew again to Washington
where he met twice with the national security adviser, Condoleezza
Rice. He reported in a memo to Blair on March 14:
"These
were good exchanges, and particularly frank when we were one-on-one
at dinner.... Condi's enthusiasm for regime change is undimmed.
But there were some signs, since we last spoke, of greater awareness
of the practical difficulties.... From what she said, Bush has
yet to find the answers to the big questions: how to persuade
international opinion that military action against Iraq is necessary
and justified;... what happens on the morning after?"
Blair was
in a strong position, in Manning's view. "Bush will want to pick
your brains," he told the prime minister in his memo. "He also
wants your support." The price of that support, Manning told Rice,
would be recognition of British concerns:
"[I]n
particular: the UN dimension. The issue of the weapons inspectors
must be handled in a way that would persuade European and wider
opinion that the US was conscious of the international framework,
and the insistence of many countries on the need for a legal base.
Renewed refusal by Saddam to accept unfettered inspections would
be a powerful argument."
A few days
after Manning's dinner with Rice, Christopher Meyer invited Paul
Wolfowitz to lunch at the ambassador's residence. He reported
the result to Manning on March 18: "I opened by sticking very
closely to the script that you used with Condi Rice last week."
Yes, Britain supported regime change but the world had to be brought
along. Wolfowitz wanted to talk about Saddam's crimes and his
connections to al-Qaeda "did we, he asked, know anything
more about this meeting" of Mohamed Atta with the Iraqi intelligence
officer in Prague? Meyer stuck to the script: "I then went through
the need to wrongfoot Saddam on the inspectors and the UNSCRs
[Security Council Resolutions]...."
The British
foreign secretary, Jack Straw, expanded on this argument in his
options paper for Blair at the end of the month. Making the case,
in Straw's view, meant going back to the UN:
"That
Iraq is in flagrant breach of international legal obligations
imposed on it by UNSC provides us with the core of a strategy....
I believe that a demand for the unfettered readmission of weapons
inspectors is essential, in terms of public explanation, and in
terms of legal sanction for any subsequent military action."
Straw appended
a memo from the Foreign Office political director, Peter Ricketts,
who described the immediate challenge as explaining why Iraq,
and why now?
"The
truth is that... even the best survey of Iraq's WMD programmes
will not show much advance in recent years on the nuclear, missile
or CW/BW fronts: the programmes are extremely worrying but have
not, as far as we know, been stepped up.... We are still left
with a problem of bringing public opinion to accept the imminence
of a threat from Iraq. This is something the Prime Minister and
President need to have a frank discussion about."
Blair met
with Bush in Crawford, Texas, on April 6 and promised to join
a military campaign for Saddam's removal, but only, Blair stressed,
after "the options for action to eliminate Iraq's WMD through
the UN weapons inspectors had been exhausted." Bush did not say
yes to this at the time and as spring of 2002 moved into summer
the Vice President argued against any return to the UN. Cheney
feared that Baghdad would renew its cat-and-mouse game with inspectors,
the process would drag on, and the administration's determination
to invade and occupy Iraq would gradually erode, leaving a defiant
Saddam still in power.
The British
made a final effort to convince Bush to obtain a UN resolution
in July, beginning with a trip to Washington by MI6's director,
Richard Dearlove, to check the temperature of American thinking.
On Saturday, July 20, Dearlove and other British intelligence
officials visited the CIA in Langley, where George Tenet took
Dearlove aside for a private talk that lasted an hour and a half.
On July 23, back in London, Dearlove reported on his frank discussions
in Washington.
But first
let us consider Tenet's account of this episode in his memoir.
It is deceptive in the extreme. "In May of 2002," he writes, Dearlove
came to Washington and met with Rice, Hadley, Scooter Libby, and
Congressman Porter Goss, then chair of the House Intelligence
Committee. Three years later the documents leaked to the British
press quoted Dearlove describing his findings in Washington at
a cabinet meeting. Tenet writes, "Sir Richard later told me that
he had been misquoted."
May of 2002?
Tenet is off by two months. I suspect that Dearlove really did
come in May as well, and that Tenet cites the earlier visit to
muddy the waters about his meeting with Dearlove on July 20
neither denying it took place nor lying about what was said. After
May 2005 a full year after Tenet had left the CIA
Dearlove "told me that he had been misquoted." Tenet knows what
he told Dearlove; does he think his views were misrepresented
by Dearlove's report to the cabinet, as recorded in the minutes?
Tenet does not say. He adds that Dearlove "believed that the crowd
around the vice president was playing fast and loose with the
evidence." In short, Tenet is trying to put a country mile of
daylight between Dearlove's unvarnished report to the British
cabinet and Tenet's ninety-minute, private conversation with Dearlove
at the CIA only three days earlier.
We may assume
that the whole of Dearlove's remarks as reported in the cabinet
meeting minutes were colored by what Tenet told him:
"C
[the traditional designation for the chief of MI6] reported on
his recent talks in Washington. There was a perceptible shift
in attitude. Military action was now seen as inevitable. Bush
wanted to remove Saddam, through military action, justified by
the conjunction of terrorism and WMD. But the intelligence and
facts were being fixed around the policy. The NSC had no patience
with the UN route, and no enthusiasm for publishing material on
the Iraqi regime's record. There was little discussion in Washington
of the aftermath after military action."
Tenet has
done his utmost short of lying to hide his role
as Dearlove's informant, but every point the MI6 director made
was something Tenet was uniquely positioned to tell him.
The danger
from Blair's point of view was a bull-headed American drive to
war which the British would find it politically impossible to
join. He told the cabinet that "it would make a big difference
politically and legally if Saddam refused to allow in the UN inspectors."
The cabinet agreed that a strategy to "wrongfoot" Saddam through
the UN was crucial. Jack Straw "would send the prime minister
the background on the UN inspectors and discreetly work up the
ultimatum to Saddam." Early in August Straw made a secret visit
to argue Blair's case for the UN gambit with Secretary of State
Colin Powell in the latter's house; Powell then pressed the point
about the UN hard with Bush at a private White House dinner and
Bush at last agreed. Tenet attended a final meeting on the issue
at Camp David on Saturday morning, September 7:
"Colin
Powell was firmly on the side of going the extra mile with the
UN, while the vice president argued just as forcefully that doing
so would only get us mired in a bureaucratic tangle with nothing
to show for it other than the time lost off a ticking clock. The
president let Powell and Cheney pretty much duke it out."
But the decision
had already been made. Blair was also present at Camp David that
day. He had been urging a UN resolution for months and had not
crossed the ocean to be told no. According to Bob Woodward's book
Plan
of Attack, Bush told Blair that the United States would
bring the question of Saddam's WMD to the UN one more time before
going to war, but war would probably still follow in the end.
Thus the stage was set for a UN melodrama starring a defiant Saddam
before armies crossed borders, but nothing worked as the British
had imagined. Saddam accepted unconditionally the Security Council's
demand on November 8 for intrusive new inspections. While the
report he submitted on Iraq's destruction of its WMD was rejected
as obfuscating, the UN was able to resume inspections at the end
of November. Hans Blix's inspectors scoured the country inspecting
hundreds of sites but found nothing, and Blix infuriated the White
House by refusing to declare Iraq in material breach of Resolution
1441 demanding that he disarm.
As a ploy
for war, "wrongfooting" Saddam was a bust. With each passing week
he seemed less of a threat. Cheney's clock was ticking; American
military plans, hoping to avoid the brutal Iraqi summer, called
for fighting to begin in March at the latest. Bush was determined
and Blair was willing to go forward with war, but since the UN
gambit had generated no just cause for war, the Americans were
compelled to make the case before the UN themselves. The date
was set for February 5, and Colin Powell was chosen to present
the evidence the fruits of many months of work by the collectors
and analysts of George Tenet's CIA. Everything seemed to rest
on the strength of Powell's argument the onset of war,
the Bush policy to remake the Middle East, the American reputation
in the world. This was the moment when the intelligence and the
war fell completely into lockstep; no intelligence, no war. If
Tenet is to be vindicated as an honest man this is where he must
convince us the intelligence was genuinely believed and honestly
presented.
"My colleagues,"
Powell said in the speech, "every statement I make today is backed
up by sources, solid sources. These are not assertions. What we're
giving you are facts and conclusions based on solid intelligence."
Visible behind Powell as he placed his public reputation on the
line was George Tenet, arms folded and filling his seat with bearlike
bulk. Tenet had personally guaranteed Powell that every claim
he made was on firm ground.
"It was
a great presentation," Tenet writes of Powell's speech, "but unfortunately
the substance didn't hold up."
The substance,
in fact, was wrong in every particular, as is now well known.
Tenet does not linger on that. He argues instead that it didn't
matter: Bush didn't go to war because the CIA told him Saddam
Hussein had WMD the dead-certain "slam dunk" he used to
describe the evidence in a White House meeting in December 2002.
And maybe the WMD claims in the agency's National Intelligence
Estimate "were flawed," he writes, but didn't Congress have an
obligation at the very least to read the whole of the ninety-page
paper before voting to authorize war? Should their negligence
be blamed on him? "The intelligence process was not disingenuous,"
he insists, "nor was it influenced by politics." This is the whole
of his defense: we were wrong, but it was an honest error.
This is
not the place for an exhaustive reexamination of the agency's
long-exploded claims, but no plea of honest error can survive
even a quick look at the facts in three disputes what Iraq
intended to do with aluminum tubes, how the agency knew about
Iraq's mobile biological warfare labs, and why a report that Iraq
was trying to buy uranium "yellowcake" in Niger made its way into
one official speech after another until it finally appeared
the infamous "sixteen words" in Bush's state of the union
speech in January 2003. None of these claims was robust when first
encountered by the CIA. All were "processed" by CIA analysts in
a manner intended to disguise shaky sources, minimize doubts,
exclude alternative explanations, exaggerate their significance,
and inflate the confidence level with which they were believed.
None passes the "honest error" test.
After the
seizure of a shipment of aluminum tubes bound for Iraq in the
summer of 2001, a CIA analyst argued that they were intended for
use in the building of centrifuges for separation of fissionable
material, a claim rejected by experts for the Department of Energy
when they learned of it. Analysts for the State Department also
found the argument implausible. The CIA's view was leaked to a
New York Times reporter in September 2002 and then cited
the same day on a Sunday-morning talk show by Condoleezza Rice
as proof sufficient of Saddam's nuclear plans unless we waited
for "the smoking gun to be a mushroom cloud."
The National
Intelligence Estimate given to Congress at that time ignored Department
of Energy objections and printed the State Department's footnote
of protest sixty pages away from the bald claim that "all intelligence
experts agree... that these tubes could be used in a centrifuge
enrichment program." Only an elastic interpretation of the word
"could" rescues this statement from being a bald lie. After a
year of exhaustive postwar investigation, the Iraq Survey Group
concluded that the tubes were intended for use as battlefield
rockets, as other experts and the Iraqi government had claimed
all along.
In describing
the Iraqi threat at the UN, Colin Powell laid it on thickest in
his description of Iraq's mobile labs for the production of biological
weapons, first reported by an Iraqi engineering student who defected
to Germany in 1998 and was given the codename Curveball. German
intelligence officials routinely passed on his claims to the Defense
Intelligence Agency, which then circulated them to other American
intelligence organizations in 2000 and 2001. Immediately after
September 11 these reports became a major building block in the
case for Iraqi WMD, but the Germans refused access to Curveball,
and later told the European Division chief, Tyler Drumheller,
that Curveball was mentally unstable, that his reports had never
been corroborated by anyone else, and that some German intelligence
officials thought he was a fabricator.
In December
2002, while compiling evidence for Powell's speech to the UN,
the CIA formally asked the Germans for permission to use Curveball's
information. The German intelligence chief, August Hanning, wrote
back on December 20 granting permission, but repeating what had
been said to Drumheller two months earlier Curveball's
claims had never been corroborated. Tenet in his memoir denies
that he saw Hanning's letter or was ever informed about the analysts'
knockdown arguments over Curveball's claims. In one session, according
to Drumheller, a Curveball believer insulted a Curveball doubter
who responded, "You can kiss my ass in Macy's window." Drumheller
comments, "It would be funny if it weren't so tragic."
But Tenet
insists that word of the ruckus never reached him. Only a week
before Powell's speech to the UN, the CIA's chief of station in
Berlin cabled headquarters to say yet again that the Germans could
not verify Curveball's claims, and adding:
"Defer
to headquarters but to use information from another liaison service's
source whose information cannot be verified on such an important,
key topic should take the most serious consideration."
Tenet has
insisted that he never saw that cable either. Nor does he remember
a last-minute warning from Drumheller the night before Powell's
speech. Tenet had called Drumheller seeking a phone number. "As
long as I've got you," said Drumheller on the phone, "there are
some problems with the German reporting." Drumheller writes that
he tried to tell Tenet that Curveball was worthless. Tenet remembers
the phone call, but not the warning. What Curveball said was found
by the Iraq Survey Group to be wrong in every detail.
The claim
that Iraq was trying to buy yellowcake uranium in Niger was not
only weak but was based, if that is the word, on evidence, if
that is the word, that was fabricated in so obvious a manner that
the CIA claims not to have seen the documents till very late in
the day. First notice of the Iraqi-Niger connection reached the
CIA shortly before September 11, probably from Italian intelligence
officials passing on a two-year-old Telex which reported plans
of the Iraqi ambassador to the Vatican to visit Niger. Two Italian
journalists who have investigated the case, Carlo Bonini and Giuseppe
D'Avanzo, note that the only significant Niger export is uranium
ore. So this was an item of interest.
The uranium
mines in Niger are under the control of a French company and the
export of uranium ore is closely monitored by French intelligence,
which answered a routine CIA query in the summer of 2001 by saying
that nothing was amiss. The following spring the CIA was again
"knocking on our door," according to Alain Chouet, the director
of the French intelligence branch which monitors WMD matters.
Chouet told Bonini and D'Avanzo, as they report in their book
Collusion:
International Espionage and the War on Terror, that there
was now "an undeniable urgency" to American questions, which were
no longer vague, but full of detail. Again the French investigated;
again the answer to the CIA was that nothing was amiss. But the
Americans pressed the matter and now, for the first time, sent
Chouet some documents. "All it took was a quick glance," said
Chouet. "They were junk. Crude fakes."
At about
the same time June 2002 a sometime Italian intelligence
operative named Rocco Martino tried to sell the French a sheaf
of documents reporting a secret Iraqi purchase of five hundred
tons of uranium yellowcake. Chouet had them checked against the
material sent him by the Americans. "The documents were identical."
A great deal more might be said about these documents, which had
already been passed to the British in late 2001, according to
Bonini and D'Avanzo. The Germans, too, were given a crack at them.
"The Germans asked our advice," Chouet said, "and we told them
they were trash."
What is
clear is that the documents, which were fabricated with materials
stolen from the embassy of Niger in Rome, were given or at least
offered to the British, the Americans, the French, and the Germans
all by the summer of 2002, when the US had decided on war
to remove Saddam Hussein and was building a case that he threatened
the world with WMD. It should be noted here that intelligence
services trying to bolster a weak case will sometimes pass a report
under the nose of a foreign intelligence service to create an
echo effect. Were the yellowcake documents the basis of British
claims in an intelligence report released on September 24, 2002,
that Iraq was trying to buy uranium in Africa? As "the dodgy dossier,"
that report allegedly "sexed up" by aides to Blair
later became the subject of a major inquiry by Parliament. The
British insist that they have other credible information on the
yellowcake story but refuse to say what it is.
The Italian
intelligence service concedes that its man Rocco Martino,
the sometime operative was the one who circulated the yellowcake
documents, but insists that he did it simply for the money. Bonini
and D'Avanzo don't believe it, and point out that Italy's prime
minister, Silvio Berlusconi, wanted a central role in Bush's coalition
to fight the war on terror. A report in Rome's La Repubblica
on October 25, 2005, says that Berlusconi pressured his new intelligence
chief, Nicolo Pollari, to provide the Americans with intelligence
that would inflate Italy's role.
Who dreamed
up the yellowcake stratagem? So far Americans public and
Congress alike don't seem to care, choosing to lump the
Niger documents with all the other phony, exaggerated reports
under the category of "intelligence failures." The yellowcake
story didn't stand up for long, but it didn't need to stand up
for long. An echo effect put it into play after Bush, in his 2003
state of the union speech, included it in the list of scary signs
that Saddam was preparing trouble for the world: "The British
government has learned that Saddam Hussein recently sought significant
quantities of uranium from Africa."
Tenet makes
much of the fact that he twice blocked use of the yellowcake claim
by Bush once in September 2002 and again a few weeks later
but his argument was a narrow one: the President should
not be a "fact witness" on the yellowcake story because the facts
were too iffy. But not too iffy, in Tenet's view, to include the
yellowcake story in the National Intelligence Estimate of October
2002 that persuaded Congress to vote for war. Nor did Tenet protest
when the State Department accused Iraq in December of leaving
the yellowcake story out of its WMD declaration, when Bush repeated
the charge in a report to Congress, when Condoleezza Rice cited
it as an example of Iraqi duplicity in an Op-Ed piece for The
New York Times in January 2003, when Powell cited it a few
days later in a speech in Switzerland, and when Secretary of Defense
Donald Rumsfeld cited it at the end of January.
The yellowcake
story would have appeared in Powell's UN speech as well if Powell
had not drawn the line and tossed it out. That left the secretary
of state with a lot of atmospheric intelligence rigmarole and
two factual claims the aluminum tubes proved that Saddam
was going for nuclear weapons and the mobile biological weapons
labs proved that he was a threat to the region and possibly the
world. Powell's speech was all smoke and mirrors, but it was enough.
Bush turned his back on the UN and prepared to go to war.
Hans Blix,
meanwhile, had been undergoing a kind of slow awakening. Blix
never answered reporters' questions about his "gut feelings" on
WMD, but he had them, and in the beginning they were roughly what
everybody else believed despite Saddam Hussein's cease-fire
pledge to give up WMD at the end of the 1991 Gulf War, Blix believed
that he retained some and was trying to build more. But gradually
the failure to find anything eroded Blix's confidence that his
gut was correct. When the inspections resumed in November 2002,
American experts suggested to Blix that the inspectors begin with
Iraqi government ministries, seize computers, and look for names
and addresses on the hard drives. Blix thought this a lame idea;
the inspectors had tried it before, but the Iraqis were too sophisticated
to leave incriminating clues in such an obvious place. "I drew
the conclusion," Blix writes in Disarming Iraq, "that the US did
not itself know where things were."
Between
late November and mid-March 2003, Blix reports, the UN inspectors
made seven hundred separate visits to five hundred sites. About
three dozen of those sites had been suggested by intelligence
services, many by Tenet's CIA, which insisted that these were
"the best" in the agency's database. Blix was shocked. "If this
was the best, what was the rest?" he asked himself. "Could there
be 100-percent certainty about the existence of weapons of mass
destruction but zero-percent knowledge about their location?"
By this
time Blix was firmly opposed to the evident American preference
for disarmament by war. "It was, in my view, too early to give
up now," he writes. Tony Blair in late February tried to convince
Blix that Saddam had WMD even if Blix couldn't find them
the French, German, and Egyptian intelligence services were all
sure of it, Blair said. Blix told Blair that to him they seemed
not so sure, and adds as an aside, "My faith in intelligence had
been shaken." On March 5, Blix on the phone with Rice asked her
point-blank if the United States knew where Iraq's WMD were hidden.
"No, she said, but interviews after liberation would reveal it."
Two days
later, Mohammed ElBaradei, chief of the International Atomic Energy
Agency, in a report to the Security Council, decisively undermined
the two principal American arguments that Saddam was illicitly
pursuing nuclear weapons: the aluminum tubes which the CIA insisted
were for use in a centrifuge to manufacture fissionable material
were actually for conventional rockets, ElBaradei said, and the
documents used to "prove" that Saddam was trying to buy uranium
yellowcake in Niger were, in ElBaradei's diplomatic words, "not
authentic." Only people paying close attention to the details
understood at once that he meant the documents were fakes, fabrications,
forgeries. ElBaradei's experts had reached this conclusion in
one day.
In that
meeting of the Security Council both ElBaradei and Blix reported
their continuing plans for further inspections, and both said
that outstanding issues might be resolved within a few months.
This was not what the United States wanted to hear. In mid-February,
President Bush had derided efforts to give Iraq "another, 'nother,
'nother last chance." Blix had pleaded in a phone call about the
same time to Secretary of State Colin Powell for a free hand at
least until April 15. "He said it was too late."
But three
weeks later Blix soberly argued in his report to the Security
Council for more time. "It would not take years, nor weeks, but
months," he said. France, Russia, China, and other council members
favored the idea and proposed a new resolution which the Americans
agreed to discuss but loaded with difficulties. "Nevertheless,
I thought, here on March 7 there was something new," Blix wrote
in his memoir, "a theoretical possibility to avoid war. Saddam
could make a speech; Iraq could hand over prohibited items."
The resolution
went nowhere but Blix did not give up hope even when President
Bush flew to the Azores on March 16 to talk war with his allies,
British Prime Minister Tony Blair and Spanish Prime Minister José
María Aznar López. "Most observers felt the war was now a certainty,"
Blix wrote, "and, indeed, it came. Although I thought the probability
was very high, I was also, even at this very late date, aware
that unexpected things can happen."
Three years
later, in a speech to the Arms Control Association, Blix reflected
on that moment in his office at the UN the afternoon of
March 16 when the State Department's John Wolf called to
say that the time had come to pull the inspectors out of Iraq.
"My belief is that if we had been allowed to continue with inspections
for a couple of months more, we would then have been able to go
to all of the sites which were given by intelligence," he said.
"And since there were not any weapons of massive destruction,
we would have reported there were not any." An invasion might
have taken place anyway, Blix concedes; the Americans and British
had sent several hundred thousand troops to Kuwait and could not
leave them sitting in the desert indefinitely. "But it would have
been certainly more difficult," Blix said. Even so, in Blix's
view, something important had been achieved. "The UN and the world
had succeeded in disarming Iraq without knowing it." Blix guessed
that Saddam hid his compliance so Iran wouldn't think him weak,
but it was the Americans who were deceived.
That in
outline is how we got into Iraq. When Tony Blair's UN gambit failed
to provide an excuse for war, Colin Powell made the American case,
putting in the scary stuff the "product" of Tenet's CIA
which Hans Blix's inspectors had failed to find. No one
paying serious attention was convinced. The French, German, and
Canadian intelligence services were appalled by the weakness of
Powell's case what could the Americans be thinking? Periodically
over the following year Powell would tell his assistant, Larry
Wilkerson, that George Tenet had telephoned to say that the agency
was formally withdrawing another pillar from his UN speech. "He
took it like a soldier," said Wilkerson, "but it was a blow."
Tenet in
his memoirs says almost nothing about UN inspections. The names
of Hans Blix and Mohammed ElBaradei do not appear in his book.
Tenet nowhere betrays genuine surprise that the CIA got everything
wrong; maybe, he concedes, "reports and analysis...were flawed,
but the intelligence process was not disingenuous." What shocked
Tenet was the brutal manner in which the White House blamed him
for the infamous "sixteen words," and even for the war itself,
which never would have happened, the President's men implied,
if Tenet had not assured them that the case for Saddam's WMD was
a "slam dunk." When Tenet read the phrase in The Washington
Post he seethed for a day and then called Andrew Card at the
White House to say that leaking the "slam dunk" phrase to reporter
Bob Woodward was "about the most despicable thing I have ever
seen in my life." Card said nothing.
Thus
George Tenet broods about his hurt feelings. In the flood of his
many parting thoughts he never returns to his original question
about the moment when war became inevitable, which was in any
case rhetorical. More to the point would have been answerable
questions, the kind any fair historian would put to him: When
did Tenet first hear the President talk about "regime change"?
When did he realize that Iraq was next on the President's agenda?
When did he understand that WMD were to be the heart of the argument
for war? And when did he know that without Curveball and without
the aluminum tubes, Colin Powell would have been left standing
in front of the UN with nothing?
The footnotes
that accompany this piece can be found in the July 19th issue
of the New York Review of Books.