Bob Woodward

by State of Denial (lit)

  The list of possible Rumsfeld replacements included some old names, such as former Senator Dan Coats from Indiana, who had been passed over the first time; Fred Smith, the FedEx CEO, who was an old fraternity brother of Bush's but who apparently was not willing to take a government job; Deputy Defense Secretary Wolfowitz; and Deputy Secretary of State Armitage. Card knew that the mention of Armitage at the Pentagon would be coarse sandpaper to Cheney, so he probably was not a real option. He mentioned Senator John Warner, the Virginia Republican who was chairman of the Senate Armed Services Committee; Senator Joe Lieberman, the Connecticut Democrat who had run with Gore as his vice presidential running mate and was a staunch defender of the Iraq War; and Governor Pataki and former New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani. Other possibilities included Arizona Senator John McCain and former California Governor Pete Wilson.

  But Card had what he thought was a great idea—a sleeper candidate. The best replacement for Rumsfeld would be James A. Baker III, the former Reagan White House chief of staff and treasury secretary, secretary of state to the president's father and his chief political adviser.

  Card floated the names to Bush over the course of several weeks, all the while underscoring the advantages of change. But his focus was on Baker.

  Everyone would say, 'Phew,' Card said. No learning curve. Great. Interesting. Baker was 74, only two years older than Rumsfeld. He had served in the Marine Corps. He had been the best modern White House chief of staff, Card thought. He had successfully handled the 2000 Florida recount for Bush. Mr. President, this is my quiet counsel, Card said. Put a diplomat in the Defense Department.

  The president seemed genuinely intrigued.

  You don't have to rush to make a decision, Card advised.

  Card spoke with Rumsfeld, who talked as if he presumed there would be no change. Card had sources inside the Pentagon, even among Rumsfeld's inner circle, and he reached out to them. What did they think? One source said Rumsfeld expected that if there was a change it would come much later, maybe four or five months away. Maybe in March. Then Card heard that Rumsfeld wanted to stay until the budget was done. Then someone said he expected to stay until June. Finally, one of Rumsfeld's minions told Card, Nothing will happen until the war is over.

  Rumsfeld wanted to stay. There was always something on the horizon in Iraq—the coming elections on January 30, 2005, the effort to get the Iraqi security forces constituted, a new wave of violence. Did they want to make a switch at such critical moments?

  Karl Rove weighed in. A contentious session with Congress was coming up. As he saw it, the Democrats were in no mood for a honeymoon. With Rice's confirmation hearing and with the expected nomination of White House Counsel Alberto Gonzales as attorney general, would another Senate confirmation overload the system?

  I've got Powell going. I'm going to have to replace Condi, the president told Rove. Do I have to have some continuity in all of this? I feel more confident at making the change at State because I have Condi, in whom I've got confidence. Where do I have the same confidence level for somebody, particularly in the middle of a war, at Defense? And, clearly, the conduct of the war in Iraq would be the subject of confirmation hearings for anyone Bush nominated to be the new secretary of defense.

  Rove agreed they did not want to do anything that would prompt hearings on the war. Jesus, no.

  If we need to do it, we need to do it. But if we don't need to do it, you know... Bush said, deciding nothing but sounding reluctant to make a change.

  Bush talked with Cheney. He came back to Card with questions and speculated about the impact of some of the names on Card's list, especially Baker. But the big decision stayed undecided.

  Michael Gerson also went to the president to argue for a change at the Pentagon. As a symbol of change, Gerson said, he believed that Rumsfeld should be replaced. Yes, some adjustments to the Iraq policy had been made or were under way and Rumsfeld had been a part of that change, and it might be unfair to him to replace him now, whatever his mistakes. But all the elements of a much more effective Iraq strategy had to be put in place. The president should talk to Lieberman about taking over from Rumsfeld, Gerson recommended. What better symbol of change could there be than to bring in Al Gore's running mate?

  Bush said he was still impressed with Rumsfeld's efforts at transformation and his ability to take on the entrenched military interests.

  That did not undermine the argument for different leadership, Gerson said. Knowing how important loyalty was to Bush, he said, Mr. President, it's not disloyal to have someone in for four years, four and a half years, in a job like this, and then for a variety of reasons, many of them not of his own doing, okay, to say that it would be advantageous to have a change.

  Interesting idea, Bush said.

  Card had known Gerson was going to speak to the president about Rumsfeld, and he had encouraged it. It was part of his campaign plan.

  Another problem was the CIA. Porter Goss's chief of staff, Pat Murray, clashed bitterly with Deputy Director for Operations Stephen Kappes and his deputy, Michael Sulick, in November 2004. Kappes and Sulick ran the clandestine and covert operations for the agency at the center of the counterterrorism efforts. Both resigned, causing an internal storm.

  Card made another appointment to see Goss at Langley. Not everything Card was hearing was bad, but the turmoil was unsettling. It was precisely the kind of shake-up that an institution needing to focus on its work did not need.

  Goss insisted he had done the right thing with Kappes and Sulick.

  Card spent half a day getting briefings, asking questions, moving around the headquarters building, hoping to boost morale. He attempted to show appreciation and respect to those on the front line in the war on terror. But he left uncertain whether his visit had helped or hurt.

  Hadley, who was now 57, was also thinking about change. He wanted out. As the end of the first term approached, he had a couple of conversations with Armitage about the virtue of leaving.

  The worst thing, Armitage said, would be for a deputy to be promoted to the top spot. Don't do it, Armitage warned.

  Hadley said he agreed. The number one and the number two jobs were different, requiring different skills. He also felt that it was important for a second-term president to demonstrate that he was robust and powerful, that he could bring in people even more qualified for the top jobs than the people leaving. He called this the oh, wow factor. Finding new, true heavyweights for the top posts would generate its own momentum and credibility.

  Hadley also agreed the president ought to replace most of his national security team. They had a lot of baggage, especially the Iraq War. Bush needed a clean start. In the first term he hadn't had the diplomacy of the country harnessed behind his agenda, Hadley believed, and Powell had only carried out a modified version of Bush's agenda. It was often too much Powell, and not enough Bush. Powell was too independent-minded. So it made sense to make Rice secretary of state.

  But Rumsfeld was a managerial and bureaucratic lone ranger. No one would call Rumsfeld a team player, and he wasn't going to change. He continued to disparage the NSC and the interagency process on both the largest and smallest matters. Hadley was known to refer sarcastically in private to the great Don Rumsfeld.

  Hadley joined the parade who told Bush he needed a new national security team. But Bush had different ideas, and he asked Hadley to move up to fill Rice's shoes as national security adviser. I need you to do this, the president said.

  The summons—and opportunity—for presidential service at this level could not be refused, at least not by Hadley.

  So it's ironic, isn't it, Hadley later said to Armitage, that I find myself in this position.

  Yeah, Armitage said. I don't know whether to congratulate you or offer you condolences.

  Hadley said he wasn't sure himself.

  The hard duty of informing Colin Powell that he was out fell to Card. He phoned Powell and invited him to his West Wing office.

  The president wants
to make a change, Card said, delivering the classic line.

  Well, fine. We talked about that, Powell replied.

  The president is likely to name Condi. I'm pretty sure it's going to be Condi. Obviously something could happen between now and the time it does, but I think it's going to happen, and you should plan on it.

  Okay, Powell asked, when do you want my letter?

  If you get the letter to me, I will hold it. No one will know I have it. They would release it only at a mutually agreed-on time.

  There's a lot coming up right now, Powell said. We've got all the meetings in December, all the ministerial meetings, a lot of other things coming along. There were NATO conferences, an annual summit in Chile, a December gathering of Arab leaders in Morocco. The Iraqi elections would be January 30. Do you want to wait and let me go through all of that?

  No, Card replied, and said there were going to be other cabinet changes too. The president thinks if we're going to do it and we're doing all the others, we ought to do them all at once.

  Is there going to be a change at the Defense Department? Powell asked.

  I haven't seen any indication of that yet, Card replied. Powell understood. If all the cabinet changes were going to be announced at once, and yet there was no indication of a change at Defense, it meant Rumsfeld was probably staying. Clearly disappointed, Powell became much more emotional than Card had expected.

  It suddenly became emotional for Card too. The meeting turned sad. Nobody could have been a better secretary of state for Bush's first four years, Card thought. Bush had come in with no foreign policy expertise or interest, and he picked Powell, who was known and respected in the United States and around the world. Powell was no shoot-from-the-hip Texan. He'd been tested as Reagan's national security adviser and as chairman of the Joint Chiefs. Back in 2001, Powell was already thought of as a statesman, and he had helped Bush clear lots of hurdles. But Card did not think Powell would be right for the second term. Maybe he would go on to be the secretary-general of the United Nations.

  Powell was a towering figure, and Card wanted him to leave at the top of his game, but he thought the secretary of state was kind of like a Hall of Fame-bound baseball player who wants one more time at bat. It was sad, but not everyone could be Ted Williams and go out with a home run.

  You've made great contributions, Card said, trying to comfort. But we're going to another phase.

  Afterward, Card gave a full report to the president and recounted the feeling of sadness and how Colin Powell was not Ted Williams.

  Bush was impatient as usual. He had picked Rice and she had accepted. He wanted to get it announced. Where was Powell's resignation letter?

  Card waited several days and the letter didn't come. He called Powell at home. It was a polite but curt conversation. Where's the letter?

  It's on its way, Powell said.

  The letter arrived Sunday, November 14. Two days later, Bush announced Rice's nomination. He praised Powell, and in a single paragraph announced that Hadley would be his new national security adviser.

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  card kept pushing about Rumsfeld. With Rice at State and Hadley as the national security adviser, Rumsfeld's unwillingness to work the interagency process would drive them bonkers. Card found he'd had to mediate constantly. He once said, I was frequently the person trying to take sand out of people's underwear, which is a very difficult task if it's not your underwear.

  At one point, Card spoke with Cheney about a possible change at the Pentagon.

  No, Cheney said, he was predisposed to recommend that the president keep Rumsfeld right where he was. That was no surprise.

  Bush and Cheney were talking in private. For Cheney, the hydraulic pressures in the Washington political system were well known. Rumsfeld's departure, no matter how it might be spun, would only be seen as an expression of doubt and hesitation on the war. It would give the war critics great heart and momentum, he confided to an aide, and soon they would be after him and then the president himself. He virtually insisted that Rumsfeld stay.

  Card couldn't get a read on what was happening, and all he learned was that now Rumsfeld wanted to make some changes of his own at Defense. He would be replacing Wolfowitz and Feith. Bush agreed they were in the wrong jobs. Rumsfeld recommended that the timeline for those changes be stretched out.

  Bush kept talking with Cheney. Bottom line, Cheney said, in the middle of the war the president could not change his secretary of defense without raising all kinds of questions.

  In mid-December the president made his final decision. Rumsfeld would stay, he indicated to Cheney and Card. He couldn't change Rumsfeld.

  That didn't mean he didn't want to, Card later said.

  In 2006, I told Rumsfeld during an interview that Powell, Card, Rice and Hadley had all recommended to Bush that he get a new national security team.

  I did not get engaged with those people in recommending to the president that he ought to fire somebody else, Rumsfeld said.

  When did the president ask you to stay? I asked.

  I don't know that he did. I don't recall that he asked me to stay.

  Did you want to stay?

  I'm here, he replied.

  I noticed.

  I really wanted, and do want, what's best for the country, and what the president feels is appropriate. He's got a tough job and he's got to do it his way.

  But there was never a moment or a meeting where he said, 'I want you to stay'?

  I don't recall that there was, he said. But on the other hand, he added, laughing, I'm quite confident there was never a moment where he said, 'I want you to leave.'

  One of the administration's talking points was that 14 of Iraq's 18 provinces were relatively quiet or stable, and that the violence and problems were really contained in only four provinces. Rumsfeld had made the claim himself on November 8.

  Okay, Wolfowitz told Rumsfeld, but the ones that are relatively stable are not getting more stable. They're getting less stable. It was the dirty little secret they weren't talking about that would put the claim in context—attacks were going up everywhere. Overall, the attacks had spiked again to nearly 3,000 in November—almost a record, according to the classified reports. Why don't we pay more attention to making the 14 really stable and have them become models for the rest of the country?

  Rumsfeld seemed to like the idea.

  Wolfowitz put together a briefing chart with maps showing in the standard stoplight—red, yellow and green—a plan to avoid surrendering part of the county but isolating and eventually surrounding the insurgents in the four most violent provinces.

  At Rumsfeld's request, Wolfowitz went through several redrafts. He continued to sell it hard, and once gave the briefing to Cheney, but it was never bought. Almost punctuating the lack of interest and Wolfowitz's waning influence, Bush reverted to the old talking points in a public question-and-answer forum.

  Listen, 14 of the 18 provinces appear to be relatively calm, he said.

  Card launched two other personnel searches. He had to find someone to be the first director of national intelligence, and someone to replace Secretary of Homeland Security Tom Ridge. Homeland Security had downgraded the terror alert from Orange to Yellow on November 10, eight days after the election, and shortly afterward Ridge told Bush that he wanted to resign.

  Card got out his hit-by-the-bus book. His lists included many of the usual names—former Senator Coats, Senator Lieberman, Rudy Giuliani and Armitage.

  Card phoned Armitage again to see if he would be interested in Homeland Security.

  No, thank you, Armitage replied. The secretary and I are kind of in together, out together.

  Well, Card said, you could go out one day with him and come in another door the next day.

  No, I think not, Armitage said.

  Hadley then called Armitage to follow up on Card's inquiry.

  Did he also ask you about the national director of intelligence? Hadley asked.

  No.

&
nbsp; Well, he was supposed to. Would that make any difference?

  Armitage said it would not, then added what was on his mind. I just don't know how I can work in an administration that lets Secretary Powell walk and keeps Mr. Rumsfeld.

  Mosul, a city of 1.8 million, erupted. Insurgents raided police stations, stole weapons and spread mayhem. On November 14, they kidnapped a wounded police officer from a hospital and dismembered him.

  At least half the city's police walked off the job. Insurgents hit two C‑130s with surface-to-air missiles, and American troops and armor poured in. Negroponte flew up to see what was going on but his plane was waved off. He was furious and exploded with a long chain of profanities as they flew 200 miles back to Baghdad.

  General Casey and Jim Jeffrey flew into Mosul at night. They were shelled as soon as they landed. By the end of November, with the scheduled January 30 elections 60 days off, there were massive logistical problems. Never mind security at the polling places, which was bad enough, but the Iraqis were planning to import millions of ballots in dozens of wide-bodied aircraft. Though they had the help of the United Nations, Jeffrey wondered how this was going to come together. Overall, he concluded, Iraq was in deep shit.

  The U.N.'s Lakhdar Brahimi was sending messages to Bush pleading with him to delay the Iraqi elections. The minority Sunnis were making it clear they would resist or even boycott the elections, and Brahimi wanted more time to get them to reconsider and actively join in the electoral process. Back in the 1920s, the Shiites had refused to participate in the political process. Popular history held that it had cemented Shiite exclusion for decades. Now the fear was that the Sunnis would be caught in a similar cycle of disenfranchisement, frozen out of a new Iraqi government for all time.

  Prime Minister Allawi and others were sending the same message about delay. A lot of Iraqi media said the elections would fuel violence indefinitely. Blind adherence to an arbitrary deadline made no sense.