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More
than eight months after the hunt began, his enemies found him in
a hole dug into the floor of a hut, not very many miles from the
village where he was born. They were about to throw a grenade into
the hole, which is apparently standard operating procedure for whenever
the occupying forces find someone hiding, when two hands appeared,
followed by a barely recognisable form.
"I
am Saddam Hussein, the president of Iraq, and I am willing to negotiate,"
said the bedraggled creature who emerged, his visage evidently bearded
by necessity rather than choice. "President Bush sends his
regards," countered one of his captors. Shortly after the captive's
identity had been confirmed by virtue of a tattoo, he was bundled
into a helicopter, handcuffed, with a bag over his head, and flown
to a "secure location" - presumably one of his former
palaces in nearby Tikrit.
The following day, the American viceroy in Baghdad made the
most of a moment that lacked the element of surprise. Some weeks
earlier, Paul Bremer had put up quite an act during George W's brief
foray into Baghdad airport. Much as he would have liked to, the
US President did not enter Iraq's capital like a conquering emperor;
surrounded by secrecy of the highest degree, he sneaked in like
a thief. The stunt was designed to appeal to American voters, who
have increasingly been questioning the administration's Iraq policies.
It was about as appetising as the plastic turkey Bush posed with
for the benefit of Thanksgiving audiences back home.
Finding
Saddam was potentially a much bigger propaganda coup, at his press
conference Bremer allowed himself to gloat as images of an evidently
emotionless Saddam being checked for head lice and tooth decay played
on a TV screen, prompting cheers from reporters. In the days that
followed, those pictures became staple fare for networks the world
over.
There was jubilation in parts of Iraq. In a country where
the occupation forces' knee-jerk response to any sense of danger
is to start firing, it's hard to believe that the few celebratory
shots recycled ad infinitum on CNN were spontaneous. But a substantial
number of Iraqis were pleased, or at least relieved, that their
former dictator was no longer at large. In several largely Sunni
towns in the north, however, the occupiers had to contend with pro-Saddam
demonstrations. They reacted in the only way they know: by killing
a number of the demonstrators.
Not surprisingly, the Kuwaitis were thrilled by Saddam's
fate. The reaction in the rest of the Arab world was considerably
more circumspect. Not because Saddam was a popular figure (although
his threats against Israel and support for the intifadas had endeared
him to many Palestinians), but because the spectacle of an Arab
leader being hunted down and humiliated by a military force from
afar is singularly unpleasant - not least because it dredges up
memories of the Middle East's colonial past.
Similar
feelings are reportedly widespread in Iraq, where a large proportion
of those who heartily detested Saddam are even more distressed by
the American presence. One of the reasons why violent opposition
to the occupation will not decrease, let alone cease, in the wake
of Saddam's arrest, is that the Ba'athists have never been more
than a relatively minor component in a disparate and only semi-coordinated
movement. With the tyrant out of the way, it is perfectly possible
that the resistance will gain a larger following.
When the question of Saddam's trial came up, Bush and his
Australian parrot, John Howard, did not take long to chip in with
the opinion that Iraq's former president should face execution -
an opinion shared by some members of the US-chosen Iraqi Governing
Council. If Tony Blair showed less enthusiasm for this extreme option,
it may have been only because Jack Straw had already spoken out;
one doesn't often get the opportunity to express satisfaction with
Straw's behaviour, but it is to his credit that he unambiguously
spelt out Britain's opposition to the death penalty.
The point, however,
is that it is surely inappropriate to discuss the verdict in a case
that has not even gone to trial. Saddam has a lot to answer for,
and in many eyes does not qualify for a presumption of innocence.
For much of his life, he has been a thug and a murderer. In the
latter capacity, his first victim was a brother-in-law who happened
to be a communist. Not long afterwards, he was implicated in a Ba'athist
plot to assassinate Iraqi nationalist leader General Abdel-Karim
Qassem. He returned from exile when a CIA-supported Ba'athist coup
succeeded in overthrowing Qassem in 1963, and is likely to have
participated in the death squads that tracked down communists, intellectuals
and scientists on the basis of lists helpfully provided by the Central
Intelligence Agency.
The army ran the Ba'athists out of Baghdad later that year,
but they were better prepared when they took their next shot at
power five years later. The CIA was supportive once more, and Saddam's
cousin Ahmed Hassan al-Bakr was installed as the supremo. Ominously,
Saddam was put in charge of internal security. He was a widely feared
presence on the national scene by the time he replaced al-Bakr in
1979, when he celebrated his ascension with a ruling-party purge.
At a Ba'ath gathering, as names of his detractors, rivals and potential
foes were read out, they were led off one by one, never to be seen
again. Not alive, at any rate.
The following year, Saddam launched a war against Iran that
lasted for nearly a decade, at the cost of more than a million lives.
In this he was supported by his Arab neighbours, including Saudi
Arabia and Kuwait. And the US provided him with satellite pictures
that helped his forces to choose their targets. It continued to
do so even after Iran offered evidence that the Iraqis were using
chemical weapons. The US knew all about those weapons, of course;
it had authorised American firms to sell the necessary components
to Iraq. During the 1980s Washington also took Iraq off the list
of countries supporting terrorism and re-established diplomatic
relations with Baghdad.
Donald Rumsfeld says that when he met Saddam in the 1980s
as Ronald Reagan's emissary, he brought up the matter of chemical
weapons. But transcripts of their conversations offer no evidence
of this - and Rumsfeld isn't a man who can be taken at his word.
Nor, of course, is Saddam, who also used those weapons against Iraqi
Kurds, killing an estimated 50,000 children, women and men in one
attack. Hallabja was the site of that particular atrocity, and a
Kurdish leader has suggested that is where Saddam's trial should
take place.
It's an appropriate suggestion. After all, mass murder in
Hallabja should have pride of place in any chargesheet against Saddam.
But domestic repression on a Nazi-like scale is not why Iraq was
attacked. Saddam, we were told, had to be eliminated because he
posed a threat to western civilisation: not only did he have stockpiles
of weapons of mass destruction, he was also keen to share them with
al-Qaeda. At one point, 75 per cent of the Americans believed that
Iraq had something to do with the attacks of September 11.
If those are the sorts of charges Saddam faces, an unbiased
tribunal may well be inclined to acquit him. There is, on the other
hand, much that he is guilty of. But, like any other human being,
he deserves a fair trial. Summary justice would be tantamount to
an endorsement of his own methods. Yet the question of a fair trial
in Iraq simply does not arise for as long as the country is under
foreign occupation.
That occupation, which has thus far proved to be a miserable
failure in innumerable ways, is scheduled to end in June. However,
the transitional government that is expected to replace Bremer's
colonial administration will not be directly elected by the Iraqis,
nor is the US military presence likely to diminish significantly
in the next six months. That means, in effect, that the occupation
will continue, notwithstanding a subtle change of guise.
Observers of US tribulations in Iraq are occasionally inclined
to categorise the fiasco as a symptom of inexperience. There may
be an element of truth in that, insofar as the aggression was undertaken
without any coherent plan of action beyond the fall of Baghdad.
As someone aptly put it, it's been a case of the deaf playing it
by ear. Blame it, if you like, on a lethal combination of hubris
and ignorance. Not inexperience. The US has been engaged in military
conquests and interventions for more than a hundred years.
Their conquests were confined to geographically contiguous or proximate
territories. Much of the southern United States was annexed by virtue
of American military superiority vis-a-vis Mexico. Puerto Rico was
a prize of the Spanish-American War. Success in that gratuitously
instigated war also yielded Cuba - which was briefly colonised,
and then allowed to administer itself, as long as it put US interests
first - an arrangement that stayed in place until 45 years ago.
Another much-coveted booty was the Philippines. Given to believe
that the US was interested only in assisting their liberation from
the Spanish yoke, Filipino nationalists cooperated with the new
conquistadors, only to be bitterly disappointed. The slaughter of
an estimated 200,000 men, women and children prompted the dedicated
American anti-imperialist Mark Twain to proclaim that the stars
and stripes on the victorious banner ought to be replaced with skulls
and crossbones.
Much the same could be said today, particularly after the utterly
unforgivable slaughter last month of Afghan children long after
the war is supposed to be over.
However, although the assault on Afghanistan and the conquest of
Iraq were ostensibly part of the same "war against terror",
there are significant differences in the nature of the two occupations.
Afghanistan falls more readily into the historical pattern of US
interventions: a military rout of the targeted foe in association
with local collaborators, followed pretty quickly by the institution
of a puppet regime that can more or less be guaranteed to give precedence
to US demands - at the expense, if necessary, of the national interest.
That has been the customary pattern in much of Central and South
America, from El Salvador and Nicaragua to Colombia and Chile.
In Iraq, the underlying economic agenda of the conquest has been
accentuated by the announcement, shortly before Saddam's capture,
that firms based in countries that had not supported the US aggression
could forget about competing for reconstruction contracts. An agenda
geared towards controlling Iraq's resources is perfectly in keeping
with the motivations behind the colonial conquests of yore.
The invasion of Iraq was planned as an investment. And the US expects
healthy returns. Or at least companies closely associated with the
Bush administration, such as Halliburton and Bechtel, do. Hence
Paul Bremer's decision to privatise Iraqi state-owned concerns and
his decree that Iraqi concerns can wholly be owned by foreign firms,
which are allowed to repatriate every cent of their profits. According
to No Logo author Naomi Klein, Bremer's reforms "clearly violate
the international convention governing the behaviour of occupying
forces, the Hague regulations of 1907, as well as the US army's
own code of war." This means, she notes, that: "If every
last soldier pulled out of the Gulf tomorrow and a sovereign government
came to power, Iraq would still be occupied: by laws written in
the interest of another country; by foreign corporations controlling
its essential services; by 70 per cent unemployment sparked by public
sector layoffs."
A truly sovereign government could, of course, opt for renationalisation.
Which means Iraq is unlikely to get a truly sovereign government
in the foreseeable future. In the past the US found it relatively
easy to subvert governments that posed a potential threat to American
profits. Direct invasion could symbolise the new, improved, 21st-century
strategy.
However, notwithstanding the distraction provided by Saddam's
emergence, the Iraqi experience thus far serves as a useful reminder
of the fact that such a strategy is untenable. To put it in words
that even Bush would have no trouble understanding: It is not going
to work.
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