The president endorsed the concept but not necessarily the timetable. "We may not need to go that fast," he said.
* * *
On the third floor of the Eisenhower Executive Office Building next to the White House, Meghan L. O'Sullivan, the deputy national security adviser for Iraq and Afghanistan, was enduring a bout of soul-searching. A trim redhead with a Ph.D. in political science from Oxford, O'Sullivan was only 36. Her lack of military experience made her an unlikely deputy for coordinating two major wars. But she had attached herself to powerful patrons, first in the months before the invasion to former Army Lieutenant General Jay Garner, who had been chosen to oversee postwar reconstruction; then for more than a year on the staff of Garner's replacement, Jerry Bremer, the head of the Coalition Provisional Authority. Afterward, O'Sullivan spent two years on the NSC staff working directly for Rice and then Hadley. She regularly reminded people that she worked 18-hour days, seven days a week, and hadn't had a date in years. O'Sullivan was bright, ambitious and persistent, and she thrived in the all-work, little-play environment. Five days a week, she wrote a highly classified Iraq Note, averaging three pages, which went directly to the president. The news covered casualties, bombings, military operations, and intelligence, providing Bush with a quick overview and summary of the day's events. Copies went to Cheney, new White House chief of staff Josh Bolten and Hadley. Day after day, the notes contained a lot of bad news. The president made clear to O'Sullivan and Hadley that he was not fully confident in the information and analysis he was receiving through the normal military, diplomatic and intelligence channels.
"Just so you know," the president later told me, "the environment is not one where I'm sitting here and occasionally a senior person pops in, takes 30 seconds of my time and pops out. There is a lot of action in here. Meghan O'Sullivan, she'd come in, and I'd say, 'Before you leave, I need to ask you something. What are you thinking, Meghan? How do you think? Give me your opinion.'
"I like to get information from a variety of sources."
As the violence had escalated throughout the spring, O'Sullivan went to talk privately with her boss, Steve Hadley, knowing that the national security adviser wanted important, sensitive communications delivered verbally rather than in memos that could leak.
"I'm really worried about where this is going," she said, referring to the latest spate of violence. "I don't feel good about itÖI'm talking to my friends in Baghdad, and it's a different tone. They're scared." At the NSC meetings she attended, the president often showed his frustration, and it was unclear to her whether it was directed at Casey or at the overall lack of progress in Iraq. Now that Casey was recommending a drawdown of two brigades, she saw more trouble ahead.
"We have a huge problem on our hands," she told Hadley. "This is going to be a pretty significant move in the wrong direction. And it will be close to irreversible if it just accelerates the negative trends we have." Already, the negative trends were dominating Iraq. She said of the current situation, "This is broken."
She saw that Hadley shared her alarm. Unlike some in the administration, O'Sullivan still had faith in the CIA and other intelligence agencies' information and judgments. They briefed her on Iraq three or four days a week. And at least one of those days, she met with a half a dozen or more members of the CIA Iraq team to do what she called a
"deep dive" into one aspect of Iraq for an hour and a half. She heard nothing that suggested it was all going to work out. O'Sullivan sensed an almost universal acknowledgment within the administration, even from the president, that things weren't going well and that the policy and approach were off track. And yet, nothing had changed.
What to do? And when? The upcoming congressional elections were five months off, and the Republicans' narrow control of both the House and the Senate were at stake. The mishandling of the Iraq War would be at the center of Democratic political attacks on Bush and the Republicans.
Hadley said he would try again to launch a strategy review.
Chapter 6
In June 2006, David Satterfield, 51, a brainy foreign service officer fluent in Arabic, was wrapping up more than a year's service as the deputy chief of mission in Baghdad, the number two post in the embassy. The number two gets much of the difficult and dirty work, and it is traditionally known as the toughest job in an embassy.
Because of his penchant for listing his arguments in bullet point fashion, Satterfield was known affectionately around the State Department as "The Human Talking Point." Because of his willingness to serve in hardship posts such as Baghdad and take on difficult tasks, several of Rice's aides gave him the biblical nickname "The Job of the Foreign Service."
Satterfield was returning to Washington to become Rice's senior adviser and coordinator on Iraq. He had been in the foreign service for 25 years and had served in trusted positions in Democratic and Republican administrations. He had been a member of President Clinton's NSC staff and Clinton's ambassador to Lebanon. He wasn't ideological. He always asked: What are the interests of the United States?
On Iraq, Satterfield had grimly concluded that the current strategy and security posture were not working. The situation was spinning "decisively out of control." Sectarianism was rampant. The new prime minister was protecting Shia militias engaged in murders and torture of Sunnis. In turn, the Sunni leaders refused to condemn the violence of their militias and death squads.
Satterfield was skeptical that the United States could win in Iraq, at least in the sense that the president wanted.
Instead, he was looking for ways to contain the damage and minimize the harm to U.S. interests. But he knew from attending NSC and other meetings that the environment would not be receptive to proposals for a dramatic changeówhether it be withdrawing or adding U.S. forces. Either would go against the grain, and a foreign service officer could reach only so far.
From his perch at the embassy in Baghdad, Satterfield had concluded that Rumsfeld had mandated General Casey to draw down because the large U.S. military presence was a direct, visible challengeóeven an insultóto the secretary's theory of a military defined by discrete lethal, quick successes. The prolonged and violent war was a refutation of Rumsfeld's theory and a fatal wound to his legacy, Satterfield believed, thus the urgency to begin getting out. The occupation, with 150,000 U.S. forces tied down in counterinsurgency, stabilization and civil affairsóeverything from security at electrical generating stations to sewer repairówas not the role Rumsfeld envisioned for his lightning-fast, transformed military.
Satterfield had found the U.S. military's effort to train Iraqis largely bogus. Elaborate briefing charts showed how many Iraqis had been trained. But they never reflected the actual number of Iraqi soldiers available for duty. Because of desertion, injuries, illness and periodic leaves to take pay home, the Iraqi forces on duty were actually a small percentage of the number of those trained.
Satterfield tried many times to get accurate numbers, but had little success. He had spent the year in Baghdad attending the daily BUAóbattlefield update assessmentóin which cheerful briefers plotted in red, green and yellow PowerPoint slides an endless list of force levels, statistics, attacks and counterattacks. Numbers, numbers, always more numbers. But rarely were strategic outcomes defined, identified or assessed. Never talk of real progress.
So as he was about to assume his new duties as Rice's right-hand man on Iraq, Satterfield could not have been more concerned about where Bush and the administration were heading. He would be replacing Jeffrey, the career diplomat who had served a year as deputy chief of mission in Baghdad and a year as Rice's Iraq coordinator. Jeffrey was so worried about the increase in violence that he had remarked privately, "Sometimes I wonder, why did I ever take this job?"
* * *
At the end of June, Casey took a few days of leave but kept in touch with his staff in Baghdad by secure video teleconference. Al Qaeda launched some horrific attacks during his absence. A bicycle bomber in a central market north of Baghdad kille
d at least 18 people and wounded 43. Another bomb in Hilla, 60 miles south of Baghdad, killed six and wounded 56. Attacks on Iraqi police and army in Baghdad killed another 14.
Was it as bad as it looked on television from Washington? Casey asked.
No, his staff assured him.
A few days later, on Saturday, July 1, a truck bomb exploded in Sadr City, the Shiite enclave of 2 million people in Baghdad ruled by the radical cleric Moqtada al-Sadr. The death toll was at least 62 with 120 others wounded. A Sunni female member of the new parliament and eight of her bodyguards were kidnapped. By this time, Casey had returned to Baghdad, and the assessment had changed. The generals and colonels were painting a grim picture.
"Well, I'm glad I'm rested," Casey thought to himself, "because this is going to get a lot harder."
He spoke with Abizaid and finally with General Pace, telling the chairman he'd changed his mind about how quickly he could reduce troop levels. "Hey, look," he said, "I don't see us as off-ramping here. This is a security situation that has not gone in the direction I thought it was going to go in."
Pace was surprised but did not dispute the ground commander.
The next morning, Casey had his regular meeting with his number two, Lieutenant General Pete Chiarelli, the day-to-day commander in Iraq. Casey and Chiarelli had built a candid rapport after working closely together for more than six months.
"Last chance for the Strykers," Chiarelli said. The 172nd Stryker brigade combat team from Alaska, known as the
"Arctic Wolves," was heading home after a yearlong deployment. The 3,800-member unit employed the Stryker armored vehicleóessentially an armored tank on eight giant conventional tires that can travel up to 60 miles per hour and is maneuverable in urban environments while providing armored protection for up to 11 soldiers. "I really need them," Chiarelli said.
Casey saw fear in his deputy's eyes. He pressed for his rationale to keep the unit. Chiarelli didn't really have one other than the increasing violence and his instincts.
"Okay," Casey finally said, acceding to Chiarelli's concern.
Later that day, Casey told Rumsfeld on the secure video, "You need to understand that I'm thinking about asking to extend the Strykers. I realize some of them have already gone home." About 300 soldiers had returned to Alaska, and another 300 had gone south to Kuwait, the staging area for the return home. He noted that the Strykers were the most capable force he had. "This can be hard, but right now, given what we have going on here, I think I have to keep that force here in Iraq. I need to think about it a little bit more, but that's where I'm headed."
"Okay," Rumsfeld said. "I have a meeting at the White House tomorrow, so if you think you really want to do something, let me know so I can tell the president."
The next day Casey called Rumsfeld to say he wanted to keep the Strykers. "I need to do this."
Rumsfeld didn't blink, and the president gave his approval.
All hell broke loose in Congress and in Alaska, where "Welcome Home" signs already hung at Fort Wainwright.
One soldier's wife, Jennifer Davis, a member of Military Families Speak Out, an antiwar group, wrote on a Web site,
"My husband called to let me know in the best way that he knows how, that the Army was extending his deployment four more months, mere hours before he was to board a flight home. I am totally frustrated, disappointed and heartbroken. Just when I thought we were going to be able to resume a 'normal' life. Just when I thought the nightmare was over, it was extendedÖ. This war should never have started, and now I'm left wondering if it will ever end."
Rumsfeld sent a SECRET snowflake to Casey complaining, "We have to do a better job looking around corners to the extent it is humanly possible. We are facing some difficulties in Alaska and Congress because of it."
Casey waited a week to answer formally. "As the security situation in Baghdad continued to deteriorate, it became apparent to us in our planning that the Iraqi security forces and government did not have the ability to make a decisive impact on the Baghdad situation in the near term without more help from us. Extending the Strykers became an opportunity to make a decisive impact in Baghdad at a critical point in the government and in our mission." The 300 who had already returned to Alaska were being brought back to Iraq, he said.
"As always Mr. Secretary, I appreciate your courage and your continued support for our mission. George Casey."
Rumsfeld went to Fort Wainwright, Alaska, to meet with some 700 family members of the Arctic Wolves. The press was shut out of the meeting, but some of the wives videotaped the session and played the tapes for the media.
One woman asked why her husband was out on foot patrols clearing buildings and houses, and not in the well-armored Stryker, which could better defend against deadly IEDs. "My husband hasn't set foot in his Stryker since he arrived in Baghdad," she said.
"Over 90 percent of the house clearings are being handled by the Iraqis," Rumsfeld assured her.
Shouts of "No!" and "That's not true!" erupted from the audience.
"No?" Rumsfeld responded, caught off guard. "What do you mean? Don't say, 'No.' That's what I've been told. It's the task of the Iraqis to go through the buildings."
It was a tough session, and the family members had plenty of questions. Was it possible the Wolves would be extended beyond the 120 days? Would they be home for Christmas? Rumsfeld said he didn't have a magic wand, but he would do everything in his power.
And he did. In a SECRET snowflake to Pace, Army Chief of Staff General Peter Schoomaker and Generals Abizaid and Casey, he wrote, "It would be a wonderful thing if we could get them home for Thanksgiving instead of Christmas." He also wrote, "I need assurances in confidence that these folks are not going to be asked to extend again." The Strykers weren't home for Thanksgiving, but they made it by Christmas, and as the secretary of defense ordered, they were not extended again.
For some time, Casey came to expect two or three e-mails a night from spouses calling him every name in the book for extending the Strykers.
* * *
On July 7, President Bush answered a few questions from reporters after a speech in Chicago and once again voiced his confidence in his Iraq commander. "General Casey will make the decisions as to how many troops we have there," he said. "General Casey is a wise and smart man, who has spent a lot of time in Baghdad recently, obviously. And it's his judgment that I rely upon. He'll decide how best to achieve victory and the troop levels to do so. I spent a lot of time talking to him about troop levels and I told him this. I said, 'You decide, General. I want your judgment, your advice. I don't want these decisions being made by the political noise, by the political moment.'"
* * *
On July 19, Hadley called Rumsfeld to inquire about a new group that Casey, Ambassador Khalilzad and the Iraqi government were to form that supposedly was going to be called the "Joint Commission on Coalition Withdrawal." Surely that couldn't be true, both agreed. That might be the intent, but they didn't want to be so explicit. Withdrawal was a dangerous word that smacked of "cut and run." Rumsfeld snowflaked Casey, saying, "Certainly, in the current environment, the title Steve Hadley believes has been decided on would not be good."
Casey answered that such a get-out-of-Iraq title had never been considered. Instead, Casey said, they had worked out with the Iraqis the title "Joint Committee for Achieving Iraqi Security Self-Reliance (JCAISSR)." The name would emphasize the "self-reliance" rather than the "withdrawal," though the two went hand in hand as far as Casey was concerned.
* * *
Casey questioned Prime Minister Maliki's efforts to get control of the Shia militia that operated freely, especially in Baghdad. Under an old order (CPA 91) from the Bremer era, the Iraqis were supposed to undertake what was called
"disarmament, demobilization and reintegration"óknown as DDRóof the militias. Casey told the president that Maliki might be deliberately dragging his feet so the Shia militias could establish themselves around Baghdad. On the other han
d, he said, it was possible that it was just Iraqi ineffectiveness. He leaned toward ineffectiveness. But his assessment of Maliki was harsh.
"He's got two biases that he's got to break through," Casey said. "One, he absolutely believes that the Baathists are coming back. He's scared to death of the Baathists, and Baathists equals Sunni, and so he doesn't trust them at all.
And second, he's sectarian. He's a Shia." Maliki's Dawa Party, a small Shia group, is deeply sectarian, Casey noted.
* * *
In her office adjacent to the White House, O'Sullivan kept a chart of the violence in the 15 main neighborhoods of Baghdad. She had tried to get everyone to focus on Ghazaliya, a Sunni Arab neighborhood in west Baghdad with dramatically escalating violence. It vividly demonstrated that what the military was doing was not working. The picture that the president was getting from Casey and Khalilzad was much better than the reality. Their strategy of training the Iraqis and getting out did not fit. But she wondered how to get them to acknowledge that. The weekly hour-long brief from Casey was not a forum to ask fundamental questions. But fundamental questions were exactly what needed asking, the kind that would come only through a full strategy review. As far as O'Sullivan was concerned, Casey had a credibility problem. On July 19, she sent a long SECRET memo to Hadley and his deputy, J. D. Crouch, titled, "Adjusting Our Security Strategy to the New Realities in Iraq."
Two months into the new Maliki government, she noted delicately, "tangible signs of progress have been elusive as Maliki has struggled with limited tools at his disposal and a deteriorating security situation.
"Now is an opportune moment," she wrote, aware that the moment had existed for months, "to explore: 1) Whether our security strategy has been sufficiently adjusted to account for new realities (especially sectarian strife)." The use of the word "strife" implied tensions and difficulties rather than the bloodbath she knew was taking place. She continued: "2) Whether external constraints on available U.S. military resources through the end of 2007 limit our ability to respond adequately to these new realities." In other words, were there enough troops? "And 3) Whether we have strategic options for filling any gaps between available U.S. resources and what may be required to ensure long-term success in Iraq." Plainly stated, did the United States possess enough force?
The War Within Page 7
