A War of Choice: Honour, Hubris and Sacrifice: The British in Iraq by Jack Fairweather (2012)

This is an outstandingly thorough, factual and authoritative account of the British Army’s involvement in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, maybe the most comprehensive, detailed and balanced account available.

Jack Fairweather

Jack Fairweather covered the Iraq War as the Daily Telegraph‘s Baghdad and Gulf correspondent for five years. He and his team won a British Press Award for their coverage. He went on to be the Washington Post‘s Islamic World correspondent. By the time this book was published he had become a fellow at the Centre for Middle Eastern Studies.

It’s a solid work of 430 pages, consisting of 32 chapters with good maps, thorough notes, a list of key players, a useful bibliography, index and so on. Well done to the publishers, Vintage, for such a professional package.

However, something (obviously) beyond their control is that, having been published in 2012 means the narrative does not include the rise of ISIS and the chaos that ensued. Fairweather’s narrative is now over ten years out of date, a factor I’m coming to realise is vitally important when reading about this disastrous part of the world (Iraq-Iran-Afghanistan-Pakistan) and, in particular, putting the entire conflict in Afghanistan into context, given the swift collapse of the Afghan government and return to power of the Taliban in 2021.

Companion piece to Thomas Ricks’s Fiasco

Having read Fiasco, Thomas E. Ricks’s highly detailed accounts of the US decision making and planning leading up to the war, it’s fascinating to follow the same storyline from the British government point of view. For example, how the UK government made the same mistake of failing to consider or plan for the aftermath of the war, but for different reasons.

Tony Blair was the first British premier to be fully aware of modern media and how to use them. He and Alistair Campbell were all about focus groups, opinion polling and managing the news cycle and this is all short term thinking. Fixated as he and his team were on the media, they were obsessed that concrete proof the UK was planning for war shouldn’t leak out. Therefore Blair forbade the Department for International Development from officially commissioning post-invasion planning (the kind of thing it specialises in) in case someone leaked it (p.13). Similarly, Blair forbade the Army from placing orders for the kind of kit it would need for a large-scale deployment abroad (p.14). So Blair’s obsession with media management prevented him from properly, fully considering the post-conquest management of Iraq, from commissioning adequate plans for reconstruction, and from planning for the post-invasion policing by the British Army. Inexcusable.

Key points

Fairweather covers every detail, every aspect of the story, in calm, measured, authoritative chronological order. This really feels like the account to read.

1997 Tony Blair elected Prime Minister.

1998 Blair supports the Operation Desert Fox bombing campaign against Saddam. New Labour make the first increase to the military budget after a decade of Tory cuts.

March 1999 Blair succeeds in pushing the US and NATO to intervene in Kosovo with a bombing campaign against Serbia (with mixed results; see Michael Ignatieff’s book on the subject).

April 1999 Blair makes his Chicago speech making the case for intervention/invasion of countries on a humanitarian basis if dictators are massacring their people.

The 9/11 attacks change everything. President George W. Bush immediately starts planning an attack on Al Qaeda in Afghanistan. In October 2001 US forces began their attack, supporting the Northern Alliance against the Taliban government. The Taliban overthrown by December 2001. George Bush phones Tony Blair to sound him out about attacking Saddam Hussein.

The long tortuous process whereby the US tries to bamboozle the UN Security Council into agreeing a resolution allowing the invasion, and the New Labour government began its campaign of lies and deception, resulting in the dodgy dossier of fake intelligence, cobbled-together scraps from a PhD thesis including the ludicrous claim that Saddam could launch ‘weapons of mass destruction’ in 45 minutes. It was indicative of the way New Labour were obsessed by media and presentation and paid little attention to substance.

20 March 2003 The ‘coalition’ invasion of Iraq began. During the build-up, a variety of figures in the military and civil service discovered there was no plan for what to do after the invasion. It was mainly the Americans’ fault, Bush only set up an Office for Post-War Iraq a few weeks before the invasion and ignored advice contained in documents like Tom Warrick’s ‘the Future of Iraq’ project (p.15). Reconstruction was handed to retired general Jay Garner who rang round his pals to ask if any of them knew how to rebuild a country. Planning was ‘shambolic’ (p.21).

In London, Attorney General Peter Goldsmith had to be cajoled into reluctantly agreeing that invasion was legal without a second, specific UN resolution stating as much. How much he must regret that now (p.19). Alastair Campbell bullied ministers into kowtowing to Blair’s determination to march alongside the Americans i.e. be Bush’s poodle (p.19). Claire Short, Secretary at the Department for International Development, let herself be persuaded not to quit, something she regretted ever after.

Haider Samad and Iraqi stories

It’s worth highlighting that unlike most other books I’ve read on the shambles, Fairweather goes out of his way to include the stories of actual Iraqis. The first we meet is a man named Haider Samad. We hear about his family background, his wish to marry, intertwined with the history of Shiite religion in the southern part of Iraq. Samad will volunteer to become an interpreter for the British Army with ruinous consequences for himself and his family and Fairweather will return to his story at various points during the narrative as a kind of indicator of the British occupation’s broken promises and failures.

Names

Another distinctive feature of the book is the extraordinary number of named individuals Fairweather introduces us to, on every page, and their extraordinary range. Chapter 3 opens with Major Chris Parker patrolling Basra six weeks after the successful invasion has overthrown Saddam, to his commanding officer, Brigadier Graham Binns, a Scots Dragoon Officer Captain James Fenmore, Lieutenant Colonel Nick Ashmore, paymaster Ian Jaggard-Hawkins, Lieutenant Colonel Gil Baldwin of the Queen’s Royal Dragoons, the army’s top lawyer in Iraq Lieutenant Colonel Nicholas Mercer, SAS commander Baghdad Richard Williams and hundreds and hundreds more.

On one level the book is a blizzard of individual names and stories of soldiers engaged in this or that aspect of the occupation, which is what makes his nine-page list of Dramatis personae at the end of the book invaluable.

Back to the narrative

Defence Minister Geoff Hoon made as light of the epidemic of looting which broke out in the aftermath of the invasion as Donald Rumsfeld did, claiming the looters were ‘redistributing wealth’, which was a good idea. What an idiot (p.29).

The thing is, the British had invaded Basra before, back during the Great War when we were seeking to defeat the Ottoman Empire which had allied with Germany and Austria. Hence the Commonwealth War Cemetery which Sniper One Dan Mills discovered in al-Amarah and gave him a fully justified sense of ‘What are we doing back here a hundred years later’?

Now, as then, after overthrowing the ruling elite, the British discovered there weren’t many capable native Iraqis to run anything, even to form a town council. Eventually, they picked on a Sunni tribal leader to run a majority Shia town, Basra, an error of judgement which, of course, immediately triggered widespread protests (p.31). Ignorance.

Fairweather details how, struggling with the number of detainees and ‘suspected terrorists’ they were being sent, British military police and soldiers came to abuse and intimidate the rapidly increasing number of ‘terrorist’ detainees, set up kangaroo courts and deliver summary justice (p.33). This led to the scandal surrounding Corporal Daniel Kenyon and colleagues who took photos of themselves abusing Iraqi prisoners at ‘Camp Breadbasket’, which leaked out, led to their arrests and trial and conviction (pages 46 to 48). The British version of the Abu Ghraib scandal. All the politicians’ claims about the moral superiority of the West went up in smoke.

After less than 2 months flailing to run an office of reconstruction, Jay Garner was fired and replaced by L. Paul Bremer who was the ‘right kind’ of Republican i.e. a devout Christian and neo-conservative (p.40). He was put in charge of the newly created Coalition Provisional Authority. He was to prove a relentless, impatient workaholic who took catastrophic decisions and plunged Iraq into a civil war and vicious ethnic cleansing.

Fairweather chronicles the key role played by Douglas Feith (under secretary of Defense for Policy from July 2001 until August 2005) in persuading Bremer to completely disband the Iraqi army and remove everyone with high or mid-level membership of Saddam’s ruling Ba’ath Party from their jobs. At a stroke this threw half a million well-trained young men (the army) onto the dole queue and a hundred thousand people with managerial experience (Ba’ath) ditto. Bremer refused to listen to the argument that most Ba’ath Party members cared nothing about the party’s ideology, that being a member was simply a requirement of holding senior posts like hospital consultant or head of the power or water systems. Bremer didn’t listen. They were all fired. Chaos ensued.

From these angry men whose lives were ruined by L. Paul Bremer sprang the insurgency. Tim Cross, a British logistics expert who worked with Garner till he quit in disgust called American efforts ‘chaotic’ and a ‘shambles’ (p.41).

Britain contributed 40,000 troops to the initial invasion. By mid-summer 2003 half had returned to Blighty. General Sir Mike Jackson became head of the British Army.

September 2003 the BBC Today programme quoted an anonymous source claiming that New Labour officials ‘sexed up’ the ‘dodgy dossier’ which we went to war on, infuriating Alastair Campbell. The label was to stick to this day (p.50).

A section about the history of the Marsh Arabs, going back to the first occupation of Iraq by the British during and after the Great War. The exploits of Gertrude Bell, who crops up repeatedly in Emma Sky’s account of her time in Iraq (p.52). The Marsh Arabs’ history of independence and revolt against central authority. The disastrous way they were encouraged to rise up against Saddam by President George Bush who then failed to provide any support so that tens of thousands were slaughtered by Saddam’s forces. Then Saddam’s decade long project to drain the marshes altogether and destroy their way of life, which he had just about achieved by the time of the 2003 invasion.

Maysan was the only Iraqi province to liberate itself from Saddam’s security forces and had no intention of kowtowing to the foreign invaders. Into Maysan province, came the Third Battalion the Parachute Regiment, famous for their gung-ho approach. Fairweather quotes Patrick Bishop’s description of the paras from his book ‘3 Para’ (2007) which I’ve reviewed.

Angry protests against the occupying forces started straight away, with stones being thrown, and then the first shots being fired. It was Northern Ireland all over again, but without the half a dozen crucial elements which made Northern Ireland, in the end, manageable (itemised in Frank Ledwidge’s outstanding book on the subject). In Basra, unlike Ulster, there was a lack of clear government authority, and the lack of a reliable police force to work alongside, the lack of a shared culture and language, and the lack of enough men to do the job.

In a series of incidents which he described in great detail (‘From the rooftop Robinson shouted, “Remember lads, you’re fucking paratroopers”‘), Fairweather traces the quick degeneration of the ‘peacekeeping’ mission into a fight for survival against hostile crowds and growing numbers of highly motivated, highly armed local ‘insurgents’.

The soldiers of 1 Para were only faintly familiar with the region’s history and how it had bred a culture of suspicion of outsiders. (p.55)

Fairweather gives a detailed forensic account of the killing of six military police by an enraged crowd after they got trapped in the police station of Majar al-Kabir on 24 June (pages 55 to 63). Critics focused on the lack of equipment, specifically a satellite phone to call for help, and their insufficient ammunition. Having read Lewidge’s book, though, I understand how the soldiers had been put into a completely untenable position by the naive over-optimism of the politicians (Blair) and the failure of the army general staff either to stand up to the politicians (to say no) and then to provide adequate intelligence, adequate equipment but, above all, a clear strategy to deal with the worsening situation.

Fairweather describes the arrival of a new British civil servant, Miles Pennett, sent to work with the Coalition Provisional Authority (CPA) in Baghdad and the chaos he found there created by teeming hordes of graduates all fresh out of American universities and selected solely for their adherence to right-wing neo-conservative Republican values (p.69).

(In his book ‘Imperial Life in the Emerald City: Inside Baghdad’s Green Zone’ , American journalist Rajiv Chandrasekaran tells us candidates for the CPA were interviewed about their views on abortion or neo-liberal economics rather than any technical qualifications or experience whatsoever. This explains the CPA’s reputation for chaos and incompetence.)

While things fell apart in Iraq, Tony Blair flew to the States to receive a Congressional Gold Medal and make a grandstanding speech to the Congress. It shifted a complete change in the aims of the occupation. Gone was mention of the weapons of mass destruction which had so feverishly justified the invasion. Now, it turned out, the occupation was about bringing universal values of democracy, human rights and liberty to ‘the darkest corners of the earth’ (p.70).

In other words a) indistinguishable from Victorian rhetoric about civilising India or Africa which justified control and occupation; and b) bullshit, because i) quite a few ‘places’ don’t particularly want ‘democracy, human rights and liberty’, they want food and water so they don’t starve to death and, next above that, security: maintenance of law and order so it’s safe to walk the streets. That – basic security – comes a million miles before Western values and, in the event, the occupying forces in both Iraq and Afghanistan turned out to be unable to provide them.

And ii) because as explained at the start of this review, Western-style democracy was never an option for Iraq, with its complex and corrupt matrix of tribal, ethnic and religious allegiances; and never, ever a possibility in Afghanistan.

Pride comes before a fall. The day after Balir received his congressional medal the body of David Kelly, the weapons expert, was found in a wood. He had committed suicide. He had been the source for BBC journalist Andrew Gilligan’s story about the ‘sexed up’ dossier about WMDs the government used to deceive MPs into voting for the war. Hoon and Campbell had pressed for Kelly’s name to be leaked to the press in order to discredit him. It never actually was leaked but enough information was provided for the press to be able to identify him. Snared in a political mesh he could see no way out of without ruining his reputation, Kelly took his own life. Alastair Campbell was forced to resign. The New Labour government was snared in scandal (pages 70 to 73).

All this distracted from the worsening situation in Baghdad. Fairweather’s account is super-detailed. He gives precise names, careers, quotes for hundreds of the personnel deployed to the CPA in Baghdad and to run Basra Province. It was the usual cobbled-together, last minute list of candidates as had characterised the hurried creation of Jay Garner’s short-lived Office for Reconstruction and Humanitarian Assistance: a former director at a merchant bank was appointed finance minister, a public schoolmaster was appointed minister of education, an internet entrepreneur was made minister for trade and industry (p.67).

The advent of Sir Jeremy Greenstock, UK ambassador to the UN, now despatched to the court of Paul Bremer at the Coalition Provisional Authority and the difficulties he encountered, namely the Americans steamed ahead doing whatever they wanted to (dissolved the 500,000 strong Iraqi army, sacked 100,000 Ba’ath Party members from their jobs, delayed elections) and ignored him.

The Anglo-American relationship that Blair had gone to war to strengthen was coming under serious pressure. In fact it was increasingly difficult to find areas where British and American views matched. (p.79)

America’s disastrous early efforts to ‘train’ a new Iraqi police force, handed to Bernie Kerik, a former New York City police commissioner (p.79). Rumsfeld tries to reduce the budget required to train a new army. Fairweather strikingly calls Rumsfeld ‘a bully’ (p.80).

Typical neo con plans to privatise Iraq’s hundreds of state-own industries in one fell swoop, to be masterminded by former venture capitalist at Citicorp, Tom Foley (p.80). Chandrasekaran is very funny about the complete lunacy of this ideas and its ruinous impact on an economy already on its knees.

As a presidential election year approaches, the politicking in the US, Bush reshuffles his team.

Rumsfeld, whose grasp on the chaos he had created was tenuous, was removed (p.83)

Condoleeza Rice takes over. Arguments about the new Iraqi constitution, when it should be drawn up, who it should be drawn up by, whether or not it could form the legal basis for elections, when those elections should be held, what kind of form they take (Bremer preferred US-style electoral colleges rather than a simple poll).

By the end of 2003 Iraq fatigue had set in in London. Blair’s entire personality was built around can-do optimism and so found it difficult to cope with the relentless bad news from Iraq. And he’d lost Campbell, his key advisor and media manipulator.

By October 2003 the British administration in Basra accepted the fact that it was, in effect, an imperial occupation, and moved into Saddam’s palace. Fairweather shows us how it worked through the eyes of Sir Hilary Synnott, Regional Coordinator of the Coalition Provisional Authority in Southern Iraq from 2003 to 2004.

The problem of the UK Department for International development, populated by progressives who strongly opposed the war, and the occupation, were desperate to escape accusations of imperialism, but were entirely dependent on the military pacifying the place before they could do a stroke of ‘development’ work.

When development minister Hilary Benn and permanent undersecretary Suma Chakrabarti flew into Basra it was to discover the army commander, Major General Graeme Lamb, mired in controversy because some squaddies from the Queen’s Lancashire Regiment had just arrested seven Iraqis, took them back to base, hooded them, abused and beat and tortured them, till one of them, Baha Mousa, died (p.86). What was it Tony Blair was saying about bringing universal values of democracy, human rights and liberty to ‘the darkest corners of the earth’?

Meanwhile the other provinces of southern Iraq needed governing. Fairweather introduces us to the men selected for the job, being: Mark Etherington, former paratrooper; old Etonian Rory Stewart, whose account of his time in the role I’ve reviewed; old Etonian John Bourne; Emma Sky, former British Council worker, whose account I’ve also reviewed (p.89).

Fairweather makes the simple but penetrating point that a certain type of posh Englishman has always ‘loved’ and identified with the Arab way of life because it echoes the primitive hierarchy and independence (for tribal leaders) which used to exist in Britain, in medieval to early modern times. They instinctively identified with the feudal setup which reminded them of their own country estates and venerable lineages.

Anyway, these Brits were handed entire provinces to run, exactly as in the high days of empire when jolly good chaps ruled provinces the size of France or more. Their efforts were so amateurish it’s funny. Adrian Weale was handed the task of organising elections in Nasariyah. He had no idea how to do this so emailed his wife, a borough councillor in Kensington and Chelsea (of course), and asked her to send him guidelines for local elections in Britain, to be adapted for Iraq. Making it up as they went along.

None of this stopped Stewart, in Maysan, having problems with the self-styled ‘Prince of the Marshes’, Abu Hatem, while Etherington, 100 miles north, appointed governor of Wasit, whose northern border touched Baghdad, was beginning to have trouble from the followers of Shia cleric Muqtada al-Sadr and his devoted followers. In a telling sentence, Fairweather says: ‘Sadr was organising faster than the British’ (p.91). Sadr established his own parallel provisional government for Iraq and declared any government created by the British or Americans illegitimate (p.91).

In November Etherington attended a conference of US business donors in Baghdad and was astonished at how out of touch the CPA was. Even the US military was surprised at being kept out of the loop by Bremer and his secretive cabal of advisers.

Back in Amara Stewart was involved in a complicated sequence of events which led to rioters looting the office of the local governor, who had been inserted into the job by the egregious Abu Hatem. British troops found it hard to contain brick-throwing mobs. Stewart reflected that his Victorian forebears believed in their mission and were committed to the long-term development of their countries. Deep down Stewart knew that wasn’t true of Britain.

2004 uprisings

All the allies had growing misgivings about the growing power of Muqtada al-Sadr. In March 2004 Bremer took the publication of a series of articles lambasting the Coalition Provisional Authority in Sadr’s newspaper, Al-Hawzat as a pretext to shut it down. On 3 April US troops arrested the editor, sparking protests. On 4 April fighting broke out in Najaf, Sadr City and Basra. Sadr’s Mahdi Army took over several points and attacked coalition soldiers, killing dozens of foreign soldiers. This was the start of the Sadr Uprising in the south of Iraq.

What made the situation ten times worse was that on 31 March gunmen ambushed four American contractors outside Falluja to the west of Baghdad, beat them to death, burned their bodies and hung them from a bridge over the river Euphrates. Footage was beamed round the world. Bush was horrified and vowed revenge.

Suddenly the occupying forces were faced with a Sunni uprising in the so-called Sunni Triangle to the West of Baghdad, and a parallel but separate uprising by violent forces loyal to Sadr in every town in the south.

Fairweather details the experience of Mark Etherington in the Cimic compound at Kut as fierce fighting breaks out between the Shia militia and the Ukrainian UN troops. Here and in all the other towns of south Iraq, the UN and CPA compounds came under intense fire. The Americans’ actions against Sadr in Baghdad effectively plunged southern Iraq into war. Etherington knew all about the catastrophic defeat of a sizeable British Army at Kut by Ottoman troops during the First World War one hundred years earlier (p.109). Fairweather gives a brilliantly vivid and nail-biting description of Etherington and his staff abandoning the compound at Kut. The same kind of thing was happening at Nasariyah under its Italian governor, Barbara Contini.

Meanwhile, the President had ordered the US army to enter the town of Fallujah and find the people responsible for the murder of the civilian contracts. This ridiculously impossible task of course led to all out war and the First Battle of Fallujah. All round the world were beamed footage of houses being destroyed, terrified civilians being rounded up, and thousands of refugees fleeing the city as the civilian casualties grew into the hundreds. All round the Arab world young men decided they had to go to Iraq to fight these genocidal invaders.

Fairweather quotes part of a George Bush speech which epitomises one of the American’s conceptual stupidities, where Bush says: ‘the American people want to know that we’re going after the bad guys’ (p.111). These simple-minded dichotomies, the binary polarities of a thousand Hollywood movies, which divide people up into the Good Guys (John Wayne, Bruce Willis) and the Bad Guys (wearing black hats), governed US policy throughout the twentieth century. This worked fine when there really were Bad Guys, like the Nazis, but not so well in societies riven with complex ethnic, religious, social and political divides, such as Vietnam or Iraq where there’s a wide variety of bad actors and it becomes impossible to figure out who the ‘good’ ones are, if any.

Obviously, in order to bring the ‘murderers to justice’ many times more US troops were killed and injured than the original 4 contractors. In the end 37 American soldiers were killed and over 600 Iraqi civilians. Huge parts of a major city were devastated. Inevitably, the supposed murderers of the contractors were never found.

Apart from the obvious security issues, it caused a political issue because the entire Sunni membership of the provisional Iraqi government which Bremer was trying to cobble together threatened to quit, and could only be made to support coalition forces with an extreme of arm-twisting and promises of money and influence.

Meanwhile, in the south of Iraq, US forces retook the CPA compounds in Kut, Amarah and Nasariyah, but the British consuls who returned to their posts had abandoned all thoughts of reconstruction and development. Not getting killed became their number one priority (p.113).

Bremer was strongly critical of the British failure to secure the south, exacerbated by negative coverage of the American butchery in Fallujah in the British press, plunging American-British relations to a new low and this led to a significant outcome. Bremer banned British representatives from the ongoing discussions with local politicians about the forthcoming constitution and elections.

Britain’s effective involvement in shaping Iraq’s political future was over. (p.114)

In late April the photos of American abuse of Iraqi prisoners at the notorious prison at Abu Ghraib to the west of Baghdad emerged. I’ve described it elsewhere. Bringing ‘universal values of democracy, human rights and liberty’ eh?

For a spell Fairweather’s text overlaps the narrative of Sergeant Dan Mills, sniper with the Princess of Wales’s Royal Regiment, in his bestselling book, Sniper One. Mills describes how, on the very first patrol on the very first morning of the very first day of their deployment, Danny and his patrol parked up outside the local headquarters of Sadr’s Mahdi Army or Jaish al-Mahdi as it was properly called, JAM as the Brits called it. Mills’s patrol did this in complete and utter ignorance of the local geography, town layout, and local sense of bitter resentment of the infidel occupiers.

The JAM attacked, using machine guns, rocket propelled grenades and mortars, and Danny and his mates found themselves in the middle of a series of intense firefights and attacks which continued on a daily basis until their eventual withdrawal from the Amarah government compound four months later.

The Americans had now surrounded al-Sadr who was holed up in the Imam Ali Shrine in the holy city of Najaf where their attempts to break in had damaged some parts of the shrine. Shia anger was off the scale. Danny and his mates and all UK forces across the south of the country had to deal with the consequences. Fairweather gives a series of absolutely gripping, vivid, terrifying eye witness accounts of the running battles and firefights which followed.

The Prince of the Marshes, Abu Hatem, threw in his lot with the Sadrists. When the Brits made a raid to capture insurgents and took prisoners back to their prison, the detainees were subject to abuse and heard screams and torture sounds from other cells. When eventually released these stories helped recruit more insurgents and incentivise existing ones into a life or death struggle against the invader. Public relations catastrophe (p.123).

Escape to Afghanistan

In January 2004 the Hutton Inquiry into David Kelly’s death acquitted the government of blame and BBC Director General Greg Dyke resigned, but much of the media accused the report of being a whitewash. Fairweather quotes cabinet colleagues who noticed the impact the strain was having on Blair’s face. Hs hair started to turn grey.

In June 2004 a NATO conference decided the US-led mission had languished because of the focus on Iraq and volunteered NATO forces to take a more active role in Afghanistan. Why? Use it or lose it. NATO had big budgets from member countries who periodically wondered why they were spending so much. This would give the organisation the sense of purpose it needed.

In London Blair and his team saw it as an opportunity to regain the initiative. In Iraq we were not only visibly losing but being sidelined in every way imaginable by the Yanks. Deployment to Afghanistan offered the British Army a chance to redeem its damaged reputation and Tony Blair a way of restoring his reputation as an international statesman.

In fact the Americans had specifically asked the Brits to relocate NATO’s Allied Rapid Reaction Corps to the south of Iraq. It was crunch time. Fairweather describes the nitty gritty of discussions, with pros and cons on both sides. But the Brits decided to cut and run. Iraq was a swamp where the Americans disrespected us. Afghanistan offered a second chance. But could we fight a war on two fronts? The decisive view was given by director of operations at the Ministry of Defence, Lieutenant General Robert Fry. He argued that troop deployments to Afghanistan would be ramped up as troops in Iraq were drawn down. This was ratified by Chief of the Defence Staff Michael Walker. They’re the men to blame.

Fairweather gives a detailed analysis of the politics around successive Defence Reviews, with the Treasury constantly trying to cut the military budget and the top brass looking for any arguments to increase it. This in turn was meshed with the bitter rivalry between Blair the international grandstander and Gordon Brown, morosely hunkered down as Chancellor of the Exchequer. So another reason for the Afghan Adventure was entirely due to Whitehall politicis, in that the deployment forced a reluctant Treasury to release more money to the Ministry of Defence.

Chapter 13

Cut to a fascinating chapter about dismal attempts to train a new Iraqi police force, told through the eyes of Brit trainer William Kearney, 12 years in the Special Branch and now manager of ArmorGroup security, one of the many contractors who worked in Iraq. Compare and contrast with the American approach which was to flood the streets with poorly trained ‘police’ provided with uniforms, guns and ammunition which they quite regularly sold onto the insurgents.

We meet up again with Iraqi Haider Samad who is working for the Brits in Basra as an interpreter and the time he was beaten to the ground by four strangers who tell him next time they’ll kill him if he carries on working for the infidel. Haider’s experience is a peg to introduce the wider issue that many, many of the new ‘police’ being recruited at such speed in order to make Western politicians happy, were themselves members of the Shia militias.

Chapter 14

Introduction to the leader of Jaish al-Mahdi in Basra, Ahmed al-Fartosi, and his aim to utterly destroy the British occupation. He was convinced the Brits wanted to extend their occupation forever because their real aim was to steal Iraq’s oil. He had spent some time in exile in Lebanon and so on return to Basra reorganised the militia along the lines of the Iranian-backed Hezbollah. That said, Fartosi was no fan of the Iranians who had fought Iraqis in a bitter eight-year-long war. Half a million Iraqis died in that war and Iran came close to capturing Basra.

Another one of Fairweather’s gripping descriptions of a firefight which broke out on 9 August in Basra between British forces and the Shia militia led by Fartosi who ambushed a patrol forcing them to take refuge in nearby houses and call for backup etc.

Amara Fairweather cuts to the similar situation in Amara where sniper Mills and his buddies were included in the 150 or so coalition troops defending the Cimic House compound from daily attacks and hourly mortar bombs. After a particular intense firefight all the Iraqi cooks and ancillary staff leave, taking as much loot with them as they could carry. Fairweather then gives his version of the siege of Cimic House, the intense battle which forms the centrepiece of Mill’s book, Sniper One (pages 155 to 158).

Soon afterwards al-Sadr caved to majority Shia opinion and called off his insurgency. The far more influential cleric Grand Ayatollah Sistani had returned to the country, gone to Najaf and seen the damage to the shrine which he, and moderate Shia opinion, blamed on Sadr. Hence his climbdown.

Fairweather switches from his intense description of combat right up to the highest level of politics and the scheming by Iraqi exile Ayad Allawi to curry favour with the Americans and get himself appointed new president of Iraq. All the accounts I’ve read describe Allawi as a plausible swindler who promised Bush and Rumsfeld whatever they wanted to hear, thus materially aiding the misconceptions and lack of planning on which the invasion was launched.

Fairweather drolly explains that this plausible chancer was put on the payroll of MI6 and ‘supplied the British government with some of the most flagrantly misleading intelligence before the war, namely the completely bogus claim that Saddam could launch weapons of mass destruction in 45 minutes (p.131). This crook had Bush and Blair’s enthusiastic personal support.

In November the Americans launched the Second Battle of Fallujah with a view to exterminating Sunni insurgents and establishing the rule of law. The battle saw some of the heaviest urban combat the American army had been involved in since the ill-fated Battle of Hue City in Vietnam in 1968. 95 American and 4 British soldiers were killed, along with up to 2,000 ‘insurgents’. Over a fifth of the city was destroyed.

2005 election A general election for the interim Iraqi parliament was held on 30 January 2005. Sunni Muslims, despite being a minority in Iraq (64% Shia, 34% Sunni, 2% Christian and other) had historically held power. Saddam and his clique were Sunnis. Now, in protest against the battle of Fallujah and the perceived bias of the occupying force towards Shias, large numbers of Sunnis boycotted the elections. This was self-defeating as it gave sweeping victory to Shia parties backed by Grand Ayatollah Sistani. Allawi’s parties polled just 14%.

Both Americans and Brits now had to deal with an ‘elected’ Iraqi government dominated by Shias who, far from being grateful to their liberators, were deeply suspicious and resentful of them.

Chapter 16

Fairweather switches focus to a new location, the south of Afghanistan, giving us a potted history of Britain’s ill-fated military adventures here during the nineteenth century, notably the swingeing defeat at the Battle of Maiwand, 27 July 1880, heaviest defeat of a Western power by an Asian power until the prolonged Ottoman siege and massacre of the British at Kut in southern Iraq in the winter of 1915/16

Cut to 2004 as the British Army staff begin to plan a deployment to Afghanistan. Now that elections had taken place, British planners and politicians looked for a way to extract the army from Iraq. The task fell to Major general Jonathon Riley who adopted the formula of the Americans: as the Iraqi police force ‘stepped up’, the British forces would ‘step down’. Sounded good but conveniently ignored the fact that the so-called ‘police’ were very poor quality, corrupt if you were lucky, at worst – during many of the clashes of the Sadr Uprising – joining the insurgents in shooting at British troops. When the police were objective and reasonably independent, they were themselves liable to attack. In the first half of 2005 350 police officers were killed in attacks on police stations and recruiting centres.

We remeet the Brits handed the challenging job of training Iraqi police, namely William Kearney and Charlie MacCartney, police mentor of the Jamiat; SIS station chief Kevin Landers. Fairweather details the process whereby all these guys come to realise that the head of the Serious Crimes Unit (SCU) Captain Jaffar, was deeply in league with the insurgents. In fact the SCU was to become a growing bugbear in the Brits’ side, and establish itself as a centre of criminality and extortion against the civilian population.

Elections are all very well but the January 2005 ones put Sadr party members into Basra’s provincial council and into the governor’s seat. But the Brits didn’t want to stir up a hornet’s nest. They were now planning to withdraw all but 1,000 British troops from Iraq by end of 2005, with a view to redeploying them to Afghanistan at the start of 2006.

How did the Brits get deployed to Helmand, right next to the historic battlefield of Maiwand, home of the fiercest, most invader-resistant traditions in all Afghanistan? Well, remember the whole thing was a NATO operation. The Canadians had lobbied hard to have overall control of the deployment to south Afghanistan and called first dibs on the biggest town, Kandahar. Considering the alternatives, the Brits learned that Helmand Province had now become the biggest single source of heroin, which would please the army’s civilian master, Tony Blair. And it was also the historical homeland of the Taliban, so combatting them would also give political brownie points to Blair, keen to rehabilitate his ailing reputation.

Chapter 17

At this point Fairweather cuts away to catch up on the career of interpreter Haider who was now working for a private security firm. His boss was William Kearney who we’ve seen trying to train the Iraqi police. Haider has saved up enough money to propose to his childhood sweetheart, Nora, whose family previously banned the match due to his lack of money.

Chapter 18

Reg Keys’s son, Tom, was one of the six military policemen murdered by the mob at Majar al-Kabir police station in June 2003. Fairweather devotes some time to chronicling Keys’s campaign to get to the bottom of his son’s death but his increasing frustration with MoD prevarication. The army board of enquiry published its findings nine months later. The families of the dead were not invited to contribute or to attend. They asked for advance copies on the eve of publication but were refused. They were given just an hour to read the 90-page report ahead of a meeting with Defence Secretary Geoff Hoons. Despicable.

Arguably the limited and obviously parti pris ‘enquiries’ into the launching of the war, the David Kelly affair and the red caps’ deaths went a long way to discrediting the entire idea of a government enquiry.

The angered parents set up a support group, Military Families Against the War (p.253). But they went further and funded Keys to stand in Tony Blair’s constituency of Sedgemoor in the 2005 general election. Fairweather gives a characteristically thorough and fascinating description of how what started as a jokey suggestion over a coffee was turned into a serious political reality, giving us lots of information about the working of modern British political parties and the media.

Just before the election Channel 4 News leaked a March 2003 memo from Attorney General Peter Goldsmith giving his opinion that he didn’t think the case for war would stand up in a court of law. Only days later a soldier in Amarah was hit by a roadside bomb and killed. The war wouldn’t leave Tony Bair alone. You broke it; you own it.

In the general election Blair’s share of the vote went from 65 to 59% and Reg won 10%. Labour’s majority in the House of Commons was cut from 200 to 66 MPs. So not a defeat. In fact pollsters considered the Iraq war a minor issue. The economy was booming and lots of people didn’t care all that much (as, arguably, most sensible people don’t care about any form of politics).

(Page 197 quote from Ibn Saud, future king of Saudi Arabia, on the irredeemably rebellious nature of the Iraqi tribes who can only be governed by ‘strong measures and military force’.)

Chapter 19. Iran

Rocky relations between the Brits in Amarah tasked with patrolling the porous border with Iran, just 50k away, and the newly elected governor, Adel Muhoder al-Maliki. More descriptions of firefights and attacks the latest troop of British soldiers come under within minutes of leaving the heavily defended Amarah air base. The point is that the incredibly brave bomb disposal officer, Captain Simon Bratcher, not only neutralised a clutch of roadside bombs but provided the first evidence that they were being supplied by Iran.

The Shia government It’s all very well organising ‘free and fair elections’ until they end up voting in people you strongly disapprove of. Two months after the January 2005 elections, Ibrahim Jaafari, the leader of Dawa, one of the two main Shia parties, was announced as the next Iraqi Prime Minister. The Interior Ministry was handed to Bayan Jabr, a former commander of a Badr Brigade i.e. one of the main Shia militias. These men continued to further Iran’s influence at every level of the Iraqi administration. The Interior Ministry was said to have set up death squads to kidnap, torture and execute former Ba’ath Party members and Sunni leaders.

Jack Straw learns of an American plan to set up death squads to ‘take out’ leading Iranian agents working in Iraq militia leaders, but vetoes it (p.. (Did they go ahead anyway?) Straw’s objections were about not upsetting the Iranians at a difficult time of negotiations with the West about Iran’s nuclear power programme. But it’s one example among hundreds of how Iraqi politics became steadily more entangled with Iranian.

Fairweather makes an interesting point. Iranian policy in Iraq often seemed contradictory – at the same time supporting the Shia-led government but also backing anti-government militias. But why shouldn’t Iran be like Western countries, with conflicting parties and factions jostling for power and implementing different, sometimes conflicting strategies? Also: why not make it a conscious strategy to back different parties and factions while it was unclear who would win (p.204). In the end, of course, Iran won.

Chapter 20. Jamiat

This was the name of the police station in Basra which had become the focal point of corruption, extortion, kidnapping, torture and militia influence. Major Rupert Jones of the newly arrived 12 Mechanised Brigade decided to do something about it and asked for a list of possibly corrupt policemen. It became an uncomfortably long list. The Brits asked for them to be removed. Nothing happened. Then they asked for Fartosi to be arrested but learned that Fartosi had been put on a ‘no lift’ list because the prime Minister didn’t want to antagonise the Sadrists on whose support his government rested.

Kidnap of two SAS officers

Then three British soldiers were killed by roadside bombs and Brigadier John Lorimer, the eighth brigade commander in Basra in two years, decided to act. On 17 September an SAS detachment infiltrated Fartosi’s home and arrested him. Two days later two SAS officers on patrol were kidnapped. Fairweather describes in detail the complex standoff which then followed as several sets of British officials ascertained that the two soldiers had been taken to the notorious Jamiat police station. When British officials went to the station they were themselves promptly arrested and detained. Negotiations involved an Iraqi judge, and an increasing battery of coalition lawyers and officers. The negotiators were themselves hustled at gunpoint to the cells where the two soldiers were being kept, as fighting broke out at the front of the police station, with Iraqi police officers who the British had spent time and money training now opening fire on British forces. British relief forces were surrounded by angry crowds throwing bricks and a succession of Warrior vehicles were set on fire.

Sergeant Long escaping from his Warrior armoured vehicle after a petrol bomb was thrown down the gun turret (source: Reuters)

Eventually the SAS men and the other Brit hostages were rescued by an attack by SAS men who were brought all the way from the regiment’s HQ at Herefordshire to help them. The political fallout was threefold. 1) Pictures of George Long on fire escaping from his Warrior tank covered the front pages of British newspapers alongside articles claiming the British softly-softly police in Basra was a shambles. 2) More specifically, it revealed that the entire concept of training the Iraqi police force which politicians from Blair downwards had put such emphasis on, was in fact a sham. 3) The Shia governor, Muhammed al-Waeli, forced to take sides, came down on the side of his Shia constituency, accused the Brits of terrorism, led a tour of the now devastated police station, and declared he would never have anything to do with the Brits again.

Fairweather is outstanding at giving detailed forensic accounts of this kind of event (compare his description of the murder of the military police at Majar al-Kabir).

Chapter 21. Helmand

7/7 suicide bombers

On 7 July 2005 four British Muslims carrying backpacks full of explosives detonated them on London Underground trains and a bus. These were the first suicide bombs on British soil. They killed 52 and injured over 700. In a pre-recorded video one of the bombers described his motivation as revenge for all the innocent Muslims the British Army was killing in Iraq and Afghanistan. So much for our invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan making Britain safer. The exact opposite.

But when news came out that the men had been trained at terrorist training camps on the Pakistan-Afghan border, government spin doctors turned it into a justification for deploying British troops to Afghanistan.

In September 2005 Lieutenant General Rob Fry, the individual most responsible for the plan to deploy to Helmand, presented John Reid with the MoD’s plans to deploy 3,150 troops, mostly drawn from the Parachute Regiment. British forces would take over an American base named Camp Bastion in the desert north-west of the province’s capital, Lashkar Gah. He promised that Taliban fighters crossing from Pakistan would be easy to identify and eliminate. ‘The senior SIS men in the room rolled their eyes’ (p.225). Brigadier Ed Butler was chosen to command the force.

Fairweather shows the gulf between the top of the army (Fry and Chief of the General Staff Sir Mike Jackson) who assured sceptical politicians that it could be managed as long as the Brits withdrew their forces from southern Iraq at the same speed that they deployed them to Helmand – and many of the officers on the ground who thought it was madness. Defence Secretary John Reid was sceptical. ‘Won’t British troops be isolated and exposed?’ he asked (p.225). Fry assured him not. Reid was right. Fry was way wrong.

Split command

Right from the start it was ballsed up. The British formed part of a NATO force commanded by the Canadians. Because the Canadian force was being commanded by a brigadier, army etiquette demanded that Butler step aside to allow a more junior officer to command his men, and so Colonel Charlie Knaggs became commander of the British deployment. This meant Butler would have to oversee operations from Kabul. Then he discovered his headquarters would not be doing the operational planning but that a staff officer from army headquarters in Northwood would be drawing up the crucial operational plan.

Crucially, Butler would only have four Chinook helicopters at his disposal, barely enough to support one offensive mission a month and, it would prove, not nearly enough to extract British soldiers from the umpteen dangerous contact situations they were going to get into.

After the Jamiat police station siege, senior officers considered advising against the deployment, realising that the situation in south Iraq was far worse than previously understood, and would entail a much slower withdrawal than planned but they never made their opposition clear enough.

Sher Mohammed Akhundzada

Before the troops arrived the Brits made another mistake. UK ambassador to Kabul, Rosalind Marsden, persuaded president Hamid Karzai, to remove the province’s long-time governor, Sher Mohammed Akhundzada. He was notorious for rape, murder and involvement in the drugs trade, so getting rid of him played to press releases about Tony Blair’s counter narcotics policy. Unfortunately, Muhammed may have been a criminal but he was the only person with the contacts and authority to keep a lid on the province. Later, he cheerfully told British officers that, removed from his position of influence and no longer able to pay them, he let his 3,000-strong fighting force defect en masse to the Taliban. At a stroke the Brits made violent conflict inevitable and created a huge opposition force. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. That motto should be carved on Tony Blair’s tombstone.

Fairweather describes the efforts of the chief planner Gordon Messenger and development experts to assess the province, their dismay at the illiteracy and corruption of the Afghan administrators and police they met, and their equal dismay at the ignorance about Helmand displayed by British politicians and army staff. The politicians had assigned the army a three-year deployment. Development expert Minna Jarvenpaa said it would take ten years, probably longer, to begin to develop such a place (p.233). Politicians didn’t want to hear. No-one listened.

Details of the deployment were announced in January 2006, just in time for a conference of Afghan donors’ which Tony Blair was chairing. John Reid declared we were going to spend three years in the south of Afghanistan, bringing peace and security and helping the locals reconstruct their country. None of this was to happen.

Gil Baldwin, head of the Post Conflict Reconstruction Unit resigned in disgust, saying it beggared belief that Britain was preparing to go into Afghanistan even worse prepared then it had been for Iraq (p.234).

Chapter 22

Introduces us to the first soldiers to deploy to Afghanistan including Will Pike and Harvey Pynn of the Third Parachute regiment, 3 Para. This part of the narrative exactly matches the account of 3 Para’s time in Helmand (April to October 2006) given by Patrick Bishop in his rip-roaring soldier’s eye view of endless firefights in ‘3 Para’.

Fairweather repeats the surprising fact that, of the 3,500 British troops being deployed, all but 600 were support staff, engineers, cooks, drivers, quartermasters, ammunition handlers and so on. Governor Daoud wanted the Brits to deploy to protect towns in the north of the province from the Taliban. Butler was reluctant but agreed to support local Afghan army units. Development consultant Minna Jarvenpaa knew the tribal situation around Sangin was complicated with the town divided between two tribes, and both involved in rival drug operations.

In May 2006 Daoud sent the British commander, Charlie Knaggs, a desperate message that the district centre in the town of Naw Zad was being attacked by Taliban forces. A force of Paras is despatched, who were later replaced by Gurkhas. Soon Daoud was asking British troops to protect other towns and the Americans asked them to bolster the small force protecting the important Kajaki Dam. Step by step the Brits were forced into abandoning the initial plan of securing a relatively small area bounded by Camp Bastion, Geresh and Lashkar Gah in the south, and instead found their forces scattered thinly across half a dozen outposts which came under increasingly fierce attack.

Far from being a gentle peacekeeping and reconstruction exercise, the deployment was turning into a full scale war against the Taliban. Fairweather is brilliant at conveying the complex political cross-currents which led to the decisions, and the shambolic last-minute way they were carried out.

Will Pike led the deployment to the northern outpost of Sangin. As the Paras set about fortifying the district centre a delegation of town elders came and asked them to leave. They knew the Taliban would attack. They knew it would develop into a siege of attrition. They knew their town would be badly damaged. They were right on all three counts, but Pike had to turn them down. So much for listening to the locals, democracy etc. Instead of peace, the Brits brought war and destruction wherever they went.

Days later the Sangin district centre was hit, 3 killed 3 badly injured. If Butler had been in Camp Bastion maybe he’d have changed his mind but he was in Kabul where his job had evolved into trying to manage Governor Daoud and his master, Afghan president Karzai. So he overruled his junior officers’ concerns and the troops remained in Sangin in what developed into a relentless, daily barrage from the surrounding Taliban.

Already it was clear the critics had been right: a) the deployment to Afghanistan was too small; b) it had truckled to political pressure and spread its forces too thinly; c) it wasn’t going to be a peacekeeping deployment but a full-on conflict.

Chapter 23. Counterinsurgency in Iraq

Fairweather’s account of the revolution in military doctrine brought about by General David Petraeus who tries to re-orient the US Army approach from a ‘capture and kill the bad guys’ approach to a more imaginative deployment of counterinsurgency doctrine. The Americans referred to the British Army’s experience in the Malaya ’emergency’ i.e. how it handled an insurgency by revolutionary communist guerrillas. The main thing is to shift the goal from capturing or killing insurgents to winning over the general population by ensuring security. This shift in thinking is the central theme of Thomas E Ricks’s two books, Fiasco and The Gamble.

I believed all this until I read Frank Ledwidge’s devastating book, Losing Small Wars. There he points out two fundamental factors which the counterinsurgency proponents didn’t take into account. In Malaya, as later in Northern Ireland, a) there was one government whose fundamental legitimacy the majority of the population didn’t question; and there was b) an effective, impartial, well trained police force. Neither of these factors was present in Iraq or Afghanistan. On the contrary the ‘governments’ of both countries were deeply contested by large parts of the population, were widely seen as corrupt and parti pris; and the police forces in both countries were bywords for corruption and backsliding i.e. running away or turning their guns on their supposed Western allies whenever it came to a fight.

As the redeployment to Helmand began to be thought through, officers in Basra came under pressure to speed up the process of handing over responsibility to the Iraqi police and army. Only problem being, they were often corrupt and ineffective. Didn’t matter:

The army leadership was preparing to dispense with its commitment to create a competent Iraqi security force in the name of political expediency. (p.251)

Security in Basra was collapsing. The News of the World published a video of British soldiers beating detainees which triggered 48 rocket and mortars fired at the Abu Naji camp. Sectarian strife increased. A Sunni cleric was killed and new corpses turned up every day.

In January 2006 a further round of elections were held. Now, after weeks of horse trading, following the elections, Shia politician Nouri al-Maliki was finally appointed Prime Minister. He hated the British. British forces had arrested his grandfather in a 1920 Shia uprising. He saw the British presence as a continuation of its old imperial ambitions. On his first visit to Basra he told the British authorities he didn’t want to meet them.

Fairweather gives an illuminating account of the Ministry of Defence and army’s notorious problems with commissioning the right kit and equipment. While the army spent hundreds of millions on hi-tech, computerised gewgaws to fight the next world war, it neglected basic transport vehicles solid enough to resist improvised explosive devices.

Six month rotations ensured that just as each set of officers and men was coming to know the people and the job, it was rotated back to the UK and a completely new set came in. These were often led by a commanding officer determined to ignore everything his predecessor had done and implement his own pet theories. This was a recipe for inconsistency and incoherence. Fairweather cites the replacement of the bullish General Shireff with the scholarly General Jonathan Shaw in January 2007 (p.302).

He has an upsetting passage about post-traumatic stress disorder and the inadequate care the army takes of its psychiatrically damaged veterans. American studies suggest that 15% of veterans will suffer PTSD (p.256). The poor care for the physically wounded veterans at the Selly Oak hospital in Birmingham caused a scandal in the media (p.281). The scandal was to lead to the establishment of the extremely successful Help for Heroes charity (note, p.393).

The entire policy of withdrawing from south Iraq in order to redeploy to Afghanistan was thrown into doubt when the Brits handed over the main base in Muthanna province to the local security services then, a few days later, a crowd of several hundred assembled and stormed the base, the Iraqi security forces melting away as they were wont to do, whereupon the mob stripped the base of all the expensive equipment, looting all the arms and equipment the Americans had stocked it with. Farce (p.270).

In August British forces handed over Camp Abu Naji outside Amarah to local security forces. Within an hour word had spread, a few hours later a mob had assembled, and a few hours after that the crowd entered the base and comprehensively sacked and looted it. After spending £80 million trying to reconstruct the province the British were leaving it in the worst possible state. A ‘debacle’ and ‘fiasco’, the loss of Abu Naji brought the British army’s reputation among the Americans to a new low.

6 September 2006

The dreadful day when four Paras defending the Kajaki Dam in Helmand got caught in a minefield, one fatality, three terrible injuries and the heroism of Chinook pilot Mark Hammond who flew sorties not only to the dam, but to Sangin and Musa Qaleh, too (p.275). In fact it was only a week later that the elders of Musa Qaleh came to Butler and brokered a ceasefire deal between him and the Taliban. Both sides would withdraw and fighting would cease. An eerie quiet descended over the battletorn town which had been badly damaged during 6 months of fighting. The British talked about reconstruction but brought only destruction.

Meanwhile in Basra new commander, Genera Richard Shireff proposed a bold new plan of increasing his force and embarking on a policy of clearing the city neighbourhood by neighbourhood of the JAM, handing it over to Iraqi police to hold and then civilian experts to deliver high impact development projects. Of course none of this ever happened. He could never get enough British troops and the Iraqi police were useless. After some civilian contractors were killed Margaret Beckett ordered the entire DFID contingent to leave Basra Palace base and be evacuated to Kuwait.

Back to the story of Haider the interpreter. He has married his sweetheart, Nora, and had a baby. Now he is thunderstruck to be told by his sympathetic boss, William Kearney, that the security firm is pulling out of Basra. Haider is going to lose his job and become more exposed to the JAM thugs who want to kill him for working with the infidel.

Chapter 28 The Surge, 2007

General Petraeus and retired general Jack Keane lobbied and persuaded president Bush not to quit and withdraw from a ruined Iraq but to take a gamble and increase troop numbers, by 30,000, the famous ‘surge’. General Casey was replaced by Petraeus as commander in chief.

The so-called Surge coincided with the so-called Sunni Awakening which was when Sunni tribes finally sickened of being threatened and dominated by al Qaeda militias. Delicate negotiations persuaded many Sunni tribes to accept American money and support to take on the terrorist group.

Baghdad had now become the epicentre of the civil war between Sunni and Shia, with mass ethnic cleansing, 200 deaths a week, and concrete walls separating ethnic neighbourhoods. Fairweather mentions the role of British civilian and pacifist Emma Sky as an unlikely adviser to hulking American general Ray Ordieno (pages 292 to 296).

Detailed description of the negotiations initiated by British General Graeme Lamb and James Simonds to convert Sunni militia leader Abu Azzam over to the Coalition side, with a mixture of flattery, promises of jobs and money for his 1,000-strong militia. The central achievement of Emma Sky in making friends with a female member of Maliki’s cabinet, Basima al-Jadiri and from then onwards keeping lines of communication open between the coalition commander and stroppy Maliki (p.298).

The Brits had been working through the latter half of 2006 towards finally withdrawing from Basra, deceiving themselves about the readiness of the Iraqi security forces to take over, or that Shireff’s policy of clearing neighbourhoods was working. But just as the withdrawal began to be implemented the Americans were embarking on the exact opposite policy, bringing in more troops as part of their Surge. In this context British policy looked more than ever like running away.

The British were under pressure to look tough and so undertook daring missions, including seizing Jaish al-Mahdi leaders. At the same time they sought interlocutors to negotiate a peace with. Most important was to be the leader of Jaish al-Mahdi in Basra, Ahmed al-Fartosi, who they had arrested and imprisoned three years before, and whose arrest led to the reprisal kidnapping of the two SAS men.

The British made him a simple offer: call off militia attacks and in return the British would cease patrolling the city and release his imprisoned cadres on cohorts. The clincher was telling Fartosi he had to take the deal in order to get his men freed and enrolled in the security services before Iranian agents and politicians took over. Fartosi was Shia, fanatical Shia, he had taken money and arms from Iran – but drew the line at letting Iran take over his patch.

These are the kinds of subtleties or complexities created by ethnic, religious, tribal, warlord and gangland allegiances which the coalition failed to get to terms with. Emma Sky is described trying to persuade Ray Ordieno that he needed to stop lumping all opposition groups as al Qaeda or Ba’athists or ‘insurgents’ and learn to distinguish between them. Only then could the coalition figure out what they wanted and even start to find negotiated, political solutions to the chaos.

June 2007

Gordon Brown became Prime Minister after Tony Blair stepped down as Labour Party leader. According to Fairweather everyone in Whitehall and the military knew that Brown regarded Iraq as Blair’s folly and had no interest in throwing good money after bad. He wanted all British troops withdrawn as soon as reasonably possible. As always, politics. When the army staff told Brown cutting and running would infuriate the Americans Brown said ‘good’. In Britain, and further afield (in the European countries which were always against the war) it would draw a stark line between Brown and his predecessor, and win him kudos for standing up to the Yanks. Army planners at the British military command centre in Northwood drew up five withdrawal scenarios. Brown unhesitatingly chose the quickest (p.315).

Some top brass thought a rapid withdrawal would make the British public question the sacrifice made so far. But in the three months during which Blair had extended the British occupation to mollify the Americans, 11 more British soldiers had been killed. The opposite line was that the British had fought shoulder to shoulder with the Americans for four bloody years and enough was enough.

The Brits released Fartosi’s deputy, other detainees and complied with their side of the bargain to halt all patrols in Basra. However violent attacks continued, with relentless bombarding of the British HQ in Basra Palace. American command in Baghdad gave the British senior officers who came to explain their withdrawal timetable short shrift. As the Brits claimed that Basra’s police force was ready to enforce security, American officers laughed.

In August 2007 the deal with Fartosi began and he was given a small office in the the base prison complete with phone and fax machine. From here he organised a complete ceasefire and an uneasy calm fell over Basra. On 3 September the British commander handed over security governance to the Iraqi government general assigned the job, and 600 soldiers left Basra Palace in a convoy of Warriors, armoured cars, lorries piled high with office furniture. They drove the ten miles to Basra airport. The idea is a residual force would stay there for up to a year to continue to train Iraqi army and police force. The JAM militia held wild celebrations at the ‘liberation’ of their city.

Story of Haider the interpreter, continued

Since the start of the year a number of interpreters had been executed by the militias. Terrifying story of him attending his brother-in-law’s wedding procession of twenty or so cars when it was intercepted by trucks with no plates, armed men leapt out, ran across to the car which contained Haider and his wife but grabbed Nora’s cousin by mistake, hauled him out of the car, threw him in the trucks, and roared off while the women screamed and wept. Next day the cousin’s corpse is found with a scrap of paper telling Haider to ring a mobile phone number. Haider’s wife’s uncle, Ali, arranges for him to flee to Iran with a fake passport and a little money. Then the militiamen kidnap Ali and call Haider, saying he must return or Ali will be murdered.

Haider makes a plan, to return to Basra, collect his family and go to the British base. Gordon Brown had announced a fast track visa process for Iraqi interpreters. He takes a minivan cab and collects his wife, mother, sister and three brothers but when they get to the British base, security won’t let them through.

Anyway, it turns into a real odyssey. They walk to a gas station where an old geezer has a taxi. Haider tells them they’re refugees and the old guy takes them home and lets them sleep in his apartment. But next morning he starts getting suspicious. Haider’s contact inside the British base tells him the precise paperwork he needs, but it involves getting an old style Iraqi passport which will take ages.

Haider has a brainwave and rings up a doctor he knew at medical school. Reluctantly, the doctor agrees to house them all in a spare room in his clinic, knowing he’s risking reprisals from the militia. Haider has a phone so he rings his old boss and friend William Kearney. Kearney jumps into action ringing round contacts to get Haider’s paperwork approved asap. He commissions a journalist to write a piece about the plight of interpreters and he even – and at this point we start to realise why we’ve been hearing so much about this poor man – arranges for Haider to do an interview with Radio 4’s Today programme, from the spare room at the clinic where he’s in hiding. Atmosphere of Anne Frank’s loft. Every time they heard footsteps in the corridor they froze in fear.

There are more hurdles to jump through, judges to be bribed, paperwork to be secured, relations pressed into running round the city getting the right documents. After a week they take another cab to the British base but Haider is now told that his brothers and sister aren’t eligible. He loses his rag.

When the British had needed him he had risked his life, but when he needed their help all he got was red tape. (p.326)

And now, 16 years later, the same treatment dished out to Afghan interpreters fleeing the Taliban. What a disgraceful, disgusting country Britain is.

Abandoning Basra

So the British abandoned Basra and the Shia militia took over, quickly intimidating the Iraqi police into staying in their stations, while black hooded armed men patrolled the streets, hitting women who weren’t properly covered and embarking on a campaign of murder and extortion. The Iraqi Way. A British officer, Colonel Andy Bristow, helps the new Iraqi governor of Basra, General Mohan al-Faraji, but quickly realises the deal with Fartosi to allow us to leave in peace, effectively undermined the police i.e. bankrupted the whole reason for us being there in the first place. When Mohan found out the British had gone behind his back to do a deal with the head of the militia to release back onto the streets over 1,000 criminal detainees, he was apoplectic.

It was just the sort of double-dealing the British were infamous for during their colonial days. (p.330)

On 31 December 2007 Fartosi himself was finally released from prison and within days (January 2008) war broke out between Jaish al-Mahdi and Mohan’s police force. The British base itself came under sustained mortar attack. The deal with Fartosi had failed. Not only that but the situation in Helmand was deteriorating, Ceasefires with local Taliban commanders had failed and the fighting was fiercer than ever. The army desperately needed to move its Basra forces to Helmand.

Fairweather then gives a typically detailed account of the way the new advisor to General Mohan, the Brit Colonel Richard Iron, conceives a plan to deliver a US-style surge but just to Basra. As mentor to Mohan he is outside the British chain of command and so a) gets Mohan to present it as a request to the Basra commander, something the Brits are meant to help with, b) schmoozes with the Americans in Baghdad who love it. Petraeus is won over and the Yanks begin making plans to send troops to help the meagre British presence from the air base.

BUT. At one of these co-ordination meetings everyone is stunned to learn that Prime Minister Nouri al-Malaki, having been briefed about it some weeks before, has taken the bull by the horns, and ordered his own surge in Basra, using native Iraqi troops!

Long story short: the Iraqi army took on the Jaish al-Mahdi in Basra and won! Over 6,000 Iraqi troops marched on Basra and Maliki himself flew in to supervise. To begin with it was chaos, with Iraqi units disintegrating or being blown to pieces by the heavily armed and motivated JAMsters. But the Americans couldn’t allow this to fail and so diverted troops and planes south to join the fight. The British administrator on the ground was humiliatingly denied entrance to meetings between Maliki and the American commander in chief. Maliki blamed the British for letting Basra sink to this level. The American military no longer trusted the Brits to do anything. Anyway, bureaucracy and reluctance to overturn the withdrawal plans meant only a handful of British officers were available. The Iraqis and Americans got on without them. National embarrassment. Humiliation.

Meanwhile Mohan was sacked and a new Iraqi commander put in place. American General Flynn told British brigade headquarters he’d flown in to stop the Brits failing again. Fairweather calls it ‘a damning indictment’ and laments ‘Britain’s battered reputation’. The senior British officers hung their heads in shame (p.337).

Then, to everyone’s surprise, there was a ceasefire. Unknown to the Brits or Yanks Maliki had sent delegations to the Iranian city of Qom to ask al-Sadr and the commander of the Iranian al-Quds Force to broker a ceasefire. Maliki knew that the Iranians had a vested interest in seeing him re-elected, as a moderate Shia Prime Minister, whereas defeat in Basra risked plunging the south into chaos and also triggering a resurgence of Sunni resistance. On balance it was in Iranian interests to rein in their proxies. So The message came back to Fartosi to cease fire. The guns fell silent. The Jaish al-Mahdi forces disappeared. Fartosi and other notorious leaders left Iraq altogether.

A few days later Iraqi forces occupied all the Jaish al-Mahdi strongholds. The insurgency in Basra was over and it had nothing to do with the Brits or the Americans but backroom deals between Middle Eastern players. In an ironic way it was a triumph because it showed that normal Middle Eastern politics, with all its corruption and sectarian horsetrading, had been restored.

But there was nothing the British C-in-C, Brigadier Julian Free, could do ‘to restore American faith in British competence’ (p.339).

Epilogue: summer 2011

In Fairweather’s view the retaking of Basra was a watershed. The Iraqi army then retook Amara (where Sergeant Danny Mills and his sniper platoon had such a torrid time in 2006) and routed Jaish al-Mahdi from Baghdad.

In the January 2009 provincial elections Maliki’s party defeated Sadrist politicians (i.e. politicians loyal to Muqtada al-Sadr). Maybe it was even some kind of democracy. A very corrupt form of democracy, Iraq sits on the fourth largest oil reserves in the world. Fortunes are made by politicians with fingers in the pie. Leaked documents and other evidence show the Iraqi police force settling back into old Saddam methods of arbitrary arrest and gruesome torture.

In Iraq’s March 2010 elections the slippery old chancer Ayad Allawi won the popular vote, with the backing of Saudi Arabia, because he is a Sunni Muslim. (On a simple geopolitical level, Iraqi politics are riddled with the rivalry between Sunni Saudi Arabia to the south and Shia Iran to the east). However, in the backroom horsetrading Iran leaned on Muqtada al-Sadr to get his supporters to support Maliki who therefore re-emerged as Prime Minister in November 2010 (serving till 2014).

Through the summer of 2009 the British troops left Basra airbase. In total more than 120,000 British soldiers served in Iraq. As many as 15% of them might be expected to suffer mental illness as a consequence i.e. 18,000. 179 British personnel died, 5,970 were injured. Best guesses are that in the region of 100,000 Iraqis lost their lives.

Fairweather’s figures are that the war cost roughly £1 billion a year, total about £8 billion. Fairweather injects a political note (remember he wrote for the Daily Telegraph, what is now a very right-wing newspaper):

As schools go unbuilt in the UK, hospitals close, and tens of thousands of teachers, nurses, soldiers and policemen lose their jobs, the Iraq war has become a symbol of the profligacy and waste of the New Labour government. (p.344)

As to Afghanistan, in 2009 the Americans were forced to intervene as the British, yet again, lost control of the situation, sending a surge of 30,000 US troops to retake the province from the resurgent Taliban. The economy is still dirt poor. And there is no educated middle class to provide administrators and politicians.

As of summer 2011, 374 British service personnel had died in Helmand, 1,608 had been injured, 493 seriously. More than 10,000 Afghans had died. Gordon Brown estimated the war cost Britain £10 billion.

And Haider the interpreter, the Iraqi who Fairweather uses as a kind of barometer of Britain’s failing efforts in Basra? At the time of writing he lived in Hull, in accommodation provided by the British government, with his wife and two children. He’d like to return to Iraq but is still scared to.

The blame

As you’d expect, Fairweather holds Tony Blair chiefly to account for committing Britain to two wars it couldn’t win – but he’s harsher on the army. Senior generals gave consistently poor advice and the army as a whole was guilty of institutional failings, most importantly it’s continually over-optimistic predictions, its wrong assessments of the situation in both Iraq and Afghanistan, its insistence it could carry out both deployments with what quickly became clear were inadequate men and resources. In both places they ignored the well-informed warnings of experts in the field.

Most tellingly, senior officials at the MoD and armed services have come to see war as a way of maintaining their budgets. Fairweather wonders if the fact that this is the only way the MoD can secure adequate funding explains why Britain’s armed forces have been in conflict almost continuously for the past 15 years.

Short-termism. All kinds of delusions led planners to think a 3-year deployment to Helmand would be enough. The average length of a counter-insurgency campaign is 14 years. Proper state building takes even longer. Either commit, or don’t intervene.

Summary

This is an outstanding chronological history of Britain’s deployment to Iraq and Afghanistan. Fairweather not only explains the complex political and financial realities at work in the British government and the fraught relationship with our American ‘allies’, but switches scene and focus with extraordinary confidence.

He gives what must surely be definitive accounts of specific firefights and battles (his 5 pages describing the murder of the six military police is exemplary) but he is just as confident describing conversations between the top power players, be they Yanks like Rumsfeld, Rice and Bremer, or Brits like Blair, Brown and Campbell.

And his narrative introduces us to an extraordinarily wide range of named individuals through whose stories and eyes we get really insider insights into every aspect of the situation, from Brits appalled at decisions in Whitehall or the chaos of the CPA, through the civilian governors struggling to control their provinces, to the experiences of scores of officers and men involved in fierce firefights on the ground.

It’s a panoramic, encyclopedic account. It really is outstanding.


P.S. A study in ignorance

Seen from another angle, this excellent book a study in several types of stupidity and ignorance.

The obvious, easy-to-see kind of ignorance, is how everyone involved in the planning and implementation of the quick invasion of Iraq in March 2003 and then the painfully slow, ineffective ‘reconstruction’ of the ruined country, had poor-to-zero grasp of the reality of Iraqi society, politics and culture. That was obvious to anyone with a brain before the war started, and became obvious to people without a brain, eventually even to the American neoconservatives who had planned and launched the war, as the years went by and their efforts became evermore expensive and futile.

The less obvious kind of ignorance is a fundamental premise of this blog and my worldview, which is that we don’t understand our own society or our selves. In his 2015 book, ‘The Soul of the Marionette’, John Gray explains that there will never be true artificial intelligence because nobody understands what human intelligence is. Sure, we can define and measure numerous aspects of intelligence like solving complex maths problems or winning at chess, but the full package of what makes a human being human, the complex interplay of calculation, hunch, guesswork, emotion and intuition – nobody understands it, how it works, let alone how it is produced by the brain.

So if we don’t understand what intelligence is, how can we artificially create it? We may be able to produce computer programs which solve problems faster than any human, and are able to teach themselves better and better techniques etc, and can answer any question plausibly, but it will never be anything like human intelligence, and those who think so are fools.

Same with democracy. Simpletons like George W Bush and Tony Blair thought all you had to do was overthrow a dictator and organise some cobbled-together elections, and you’d have yourself a functioning democracy. What this imbecile level of naivety shows is not so much that neither of them had a clue about Arab or Muslim societies, and about Iraq in particular (which they didn’t, and which this book demonstrates at humiliating and embarrassing length) – what it showed is they hadn’t a clue about how our own democratic societies work.

1. The civic basis of democracy

They didn’t have a clue about their own political evolution: about the very long history, the centuries-long evolution, through trial and error and revolutions and civil wars, and the taming of religion and the controlling of aristocracies and oligarchies, and the campaigns of working class parties and trade unions and then the long struggle for women’s suffrage – which lie behind the present form of the far-from-perfect, so-called ‘democracies’ which operate in the USA and UK.

2. The Christian basis of democracy

And that’s without going into the huge part of the story derived from religion: the slow evolution of Christianity with its emphasis on the value of the individual, through the overthrow of Catholic ideology at the Reformation, and the Protestant Revolution which ushered in new ideas about the individual, about individual agency, responsibility, rights and duties, which had to be painfully thrashed out during centuries of civil war and political turmoil, the overthrow of kings, the grudging allowance of limited forms of religious tolerance in Britain the late 17th century, which struggled against the odds throughout the 18th and inspired the American revolutionaries to their clear statement of principles in the American constitution. There’s no evidence of this kind of huge, conceptual, long-term evolution taking place in the political-religious ideology of modern Islam. The opposite: reactionary forms of Islam have been on the rise throughout the Middle East since the Iranian revolution of 1979.

3. The economic basis of democracy

And all that is without going into the economic history which lies behind our democratic societies, whose development paralleled the political, religious and philosophical strands. Modern progressives are keen to attribute the rise of the West to ruthless exploitation, to the profits from the Atlantic slave trade and the rapacity of European imperialism. The older, traditional school of history attributed ‘the rise of the West’ to a huge range of intellectual inventions, from the establishment of the Bank of England and a national debt, through the invention of copyright and business law which created incentives for innovators and inventors, to the inventors themselves who devised the seed drill or the steam engine among thousands of other world-changing technologies (ideas handily summarised in Niall Ferguson’s Civilization: The West and the Rest).

However you combine these and other elements to explain ‘the Rise of the West’, there’s no denying that Britain, most of the other European nations, and then America and Japan, represent a level of legal, social and technological achievement which far outranks the other 180 or so nations on earth.

Neo-con delusions

Now do you get a sense of the depth of the ignorance of the American neo-cons and their poodle, Tony? They thought overthrowing a dictator and getting his dazed population to line up at voting booths would be it, job done, creation of ‘democracy’. They thought creating an unstable government and holding a few phoney elections amounted to ‘nation building’ and stood any chance at all of transforming Iraq in a few short months into a beacon of peace, plenty and democracy for the rest of the Middle East to follow.

That’s what George Bush, Dick Cheney, Donald Rumsfeld, Douglas Feith and their supporters thought would happen. Surely the word ‘imbecile’ isn’t forceful enough to describe this level of fatuous ignorance – not only about what Iraqi society was like, but about what makes their own country tick – about what makes the 20 or so developed western nations what they are, and why this unique religious, philosophical, legal, cultural, social, economic and technological history can’t just be bundled up into vacuum packs, flown into a developing country in the holds of Hercules transport planes and handed out to cheering crowds like bottled water. What morons!


Credit

A War of Choice: Honour, Hubris and Sacrifice: The British in Iraq by Jack Fairweather was published by Jonathan Cape in 2012. References are to the 2012 paperback edition.

Related links

New world disorder reviews

The Gamble: General David Petraeus and the American Military Adventure in Iraq, 2006 to 2008 (2009)

“All armies get it wrong at the beginning; the question is who adapts fastest.”
(British military historian Michael Howard quoted by Elliot Cohen, page 100)

‘All Americans make promises but nothing ever happens.’
Iraqi housewife complaining why there was still sewage in the street outside her house 5 years after the Americans invaded and promised to fix it (p.175)

Fiasco, a brief recap

Thomas E. Ricks won acclaim with his award-winning book, Fiasco: The American Military Adventure in Iraq, published in 2006. That book gave an extraordinarily detailed, high-level account of the mind-bogglingly stupid, arrogant, ignorant and incompetent decisions made by senior American officials (Vice President Dick Cheney, Secretary of Defence Donald Rumsfeld, Deputy Secretary of Defense Paul Wolfowitz and under secretary of Defense for Policy, Douglas Feith) in the run-up to the March 2003 US-led invasion of Iraq.

Within a year it had been conclusively proven that a) Saddam had no weapons of mass destruction and b) had no links with al Qaeda, the Islamic terrorist organisation which carried out the 9/11 attacks on New York and Washington. In other words, the instigators of the invasion (Cheney et al) had grossly misled the US political system, the media, the American public, and the world at large, via its utterly incorrect briefings at the United Nations.

Not just that, though. Ricks’s book is named Fiasco because he shows in excruciating detail, and with extraordinary access to senior officials in the Defence Department, State Department and, above all, the US military, how catastrophically bad decisions were taken all down the line, misjudgements and bad calls which led to the post-invasion ‘reconstruction’ of Iraq quickly degenerating into chaos out if which emerged the anti-occupation insurgency, alongside a civil war which developed between militias from the Sunni and Shia communities.

The stupidity can be boiled down to two main errors:

  1. Rumsfeld’s insistence that the invasion and occupation be carried out with far, far too few US troops on the ground; Ricks shows him consistently paring back Army estimates of how many troops on the ground would be needed
  2. the complete absence of a detailed plan for the reconstruction’ of Iraq, or even for the aftermath of the war, because the idiots in charge (Cheney et al) thought the Iraqi people would pick themselves up, return to work, set up a functioning government and rebuild their country using their own oil revenue, all within a couple of months of the overthrow of Saddam

These key assumptions and all the individual tactics and plans which were based on them – ‘the botched handling of the first three years of the war’ (p.116) – turned out to be disastrously wrong (p.102), but the entire situation was turned toxic when the man appointed as America’s viceroy in Iraq, head of the Coalition Provisional Authority L. Paul Bremer, took the intemperate (i.e. against a barrage of opposition and informed criticism) and catastrophic decisions:

  1. to deprive any member of Saddam’s ruling Ba’ath Party of their jobs, on the analogy of the denazification process applied to post-war Germany
  2. to disband the Iraqi Army, police and security services, with the naive idea that US forces would then train new ones, starting from scratch, inculcating democratic values etc

Thus, with the stroke of a pen, over 500,000 highly trained and motivated men and women lost their jobs, their careers and their incomes. After initial protests and appeals many of them went to form the core of the insurgent forces and militias which were to attack US forces and each other for the next 8 years.

More subtly, the Iraqi Army had provided a unifying force in a country made up of fractious ethnic and religious groups, namely (from south to north) Shia and Sunni Muslims, and the Kurds in the north. Removing one of Iraq’s core unifying institutions made the country’s collapse into disparate regions and ethnic civil war far more likely.

Add in the fact that Rumsfeld’s obstinate insistence on sending far fewer US troops than were required led, in the first days and weeks after the invasion, to Iraqi army barracks and ammunition dumps all over the country being left wide open to be looted by would-be terrorists, insurgents and militias, and you could hardly have created a more perfect recipe for a complete shitstorm.

And the shit really hit the fan when the steadily worsening security situation (i.e. widespread lawlessness, robberies, murders, rapes, attacks on occupation forces on a daily basis etc) crystallised into two contemporaneous uprisings: one among the followers of ‘radical’ Shia cleric Muqtada al-Sadr, at first in the eastern slums of Baghdad and then spreading across the Shia south; at the same time as the mostly Sunni city of Falluja to the west of Baghdad was the scene of a massive uprising – both occurring in April and May 2004.

Suddenly the mostly US occupying forces were thrown into more intense urban fighting, with higher casualties, than in the initial invasion back in March and April 2003. And that was the point in the story – with the Fallujah and Sadr City risings – where Ricks ended his first book.

The Gamble

This book is by way of being the sequel to Fiasco, picking up exactly where its predecessor left off. It covers a very specific time period, from autumn 2005 to autumn 2008 – three years – and, although it is, like Fiasco, staggeringly detailed, with extraordinary access to senior military figures who talk with astonishing candour about the political and military foul-up the Americans had landed themselves in – it is, in a sense, a fairly simple story.

It describes the agonisingly slow process whereby senior figures in the US Army slowly came to realise that they were fighting the wrong kind of war. The occupying forces were continuing to fight a conventional war in which the aim is to identify your enemy (hopefully wearing a nice identifiable uniform) and kill as many of them, and degrade their military or civilian infrastructure to such an extent, that their leaders are forced to sign a peace treaty, and then You Have Won.

Only slowly, during the course of 2004 and 2005, did senior officers in the large unwieldy Army bureaucracy and the Pentagon, come to heed the voices that had been advising that the army was in fact fighting a completely different kind of conflict: it was battling an insurgency and thus had to completely switch tactics in order to implement a counterinsurgency.

The last 100 or so pages of Fiasco had, in fact, already expressed this idea at some length, repeatedly, and so there is quite a strong feeling of repetition about the start of The Gamble. Once again we are introduced to the gurus of counterinsurgency, from Lawrence of Arabia with his 27 Articles (1917), to the counterinsurgency manual of Frenchman David Galula, ‘Counterinsurgency Warfare: Theory and Practice’ (1964), and John Nagl’s ‘Learning to Eat Soup with a Knife: Counterinsurgency Lessons from Malaya and Vietnam’ (2002) and then the 2007 paper, ‘Countering Global Insurgency’, by Australian soldier, David Kilcullen, which, amazingly enough, persuaded Petraeus to invite Kilcullen to come and work for him in Iraq as his counterinsurgency adviser.

Ricks repeats (and repeats again) the simple insight at the core of counterinsurgency theory which is that the population is the prize. Insurgents wear no uniforms, move freely among the general population, choose their own opportunities to emerge from the general population to mount ambushes, plant bombs and so on, before melting back into the crowd. They are able to do this in part because they terrorise the general population, often spending as much time killing their own fellow citizens for speaking against them or in any way helping the hated occupier.

So the only way to crush an insurgency is to separate the insurgents from the population and the only way to do that is to win over the general population to your side; and the way you do that is to break up the super-barracks the Americans had built around Iraq, and instead create scores of smaller posts embedded throughout the cities and towns; to patrol regularly and visibly; to create law and order on the streets. It is emphatically not to kick down the doors of then houses of suspected insurgents, terrify everyone inside and humiliate the man of the house in front of all his relatives; that merely adds one more fighter to the insurgency. The way to behave is with elaborate respect for all citizens, assure them of your protection, respect their culture (especially the sacrosanct nature of hospitality and the respect due to male heads of households, communities or tribes). Ditto detainees, who must be treated according to the Geneva Convention and legality.

Above all try to restore the sense of law and order on the streets – which the Americans had so decisively lost in the first few days of wild looting after the conquest of Baghdad – and protection for everyday citizens from violent criminals and homicidal militias.

Ricks’s narrative describes how these ideas were expressed by scattered officers, academics and teachers within the huge Army bureaucracy, and then were taken up by General David Petraeus who, through a series of complex political manoeuvres, was appointed commanding general of the Multi-National Force Iraq in February 2007 and then wangled the resources – i.e. extra money and five brigades of extra troops – to try and implement this complete turnaround in the Army’s policy.

The notable increase in soldiers on the ground came to be referred to, in the media and then more widely, as ‘the Surge’ and an awful lot, from President George Bush’s political career to the reputation of the US Army throughout the Middle East and around the world, came to rest on it.

That’s what the title refers to and the book describes: the enormity of the stakes involved in what amounted to a humongous gamble to try and wrest back control of an Iraq policy and an armed occupation which had spiralled out of control.

Failed hopes of handing over

My summary so far doesn’t refer to two other important points. From the end of the invasion phase in May 2003 onwards the administration (Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld, Wolfowitz) came to cling more and more desperately to two shibboleths: 1) that once the Americans had supervised elections and gotten a democratically elected government in place, the Iraqis would take over their own country; and 2) that this would be done via the Iraqi Army and police force which the Americans were training up. The mantra Bush kept repeating to the press was ‘We step down as they [the Iraqi security forces] step up’.

But both policies hit big snags. Not one but two elections were held in Iraq in 2005, in January and December, but had almost entirely negative consequences: The January one was to create a transitional government which would draft a constitution for a successive vote. But in January 1) much of the minority Sunni population boycotted them (voter turnout was as low as 2% in the Sunni Triangle of Al Anbar province) thus confirming what was likely anyway, which was that most elected officials and the government itself was dominated by Iraq’s Shia majority; 2) which, instead of defusing, crystallised and exacerbated sectarian divisions (and violence) across the country (p.32). Just during the January election there were more than 100 armed attacks on polling places including nine suicide bombers, killing at least 44 people.

(Reading statistic like this again and again and again and again makes you marvel at the Iraqis’ dedication and commitment to murdering as many of their fellow citizens, fellow Arabs and fellow Muslims as possible, and utterly screwing up their country as much as they could. It was the scale of the mayhem which prompted Petraeus’s adviser Emma Sky in 2007 to call Iraq a failing state, p.147.)

The same level of violence accompanied the December 2005 election, alongside accusations of fraud and vote-rigging, and extremist language from countless clerics denouncing democracy as an evil alien ideology. Just a few months later, on 22 February 2006, the bombing of the Golden Dome Mosque in Samarra, an important Shia shrine, really kicked off the hyper-violent sectarian conflict (p.32).

But while a violent civil war was kicking off, 3) it took Iraq’s squabbling political class five months to cobble together a ‘government of national unity’ under Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki. a) The excruciating slowness of the process, while car bombs and murders and kidnappings ran out of control across the country disillusioned many with the concept of democracy, which just seemed to be a synonym for inaction and corruption, and b) al-Maliki was in hock to his Shia supporters and, in Ricks’s narrative, becomes part of the problem for protecting the Shia militias carrying our murderous ethnic cleansing of Baghdad’s Sunni districts.

In Sunni neighbourhoods that had been ethnically cleansed, patrolling soldiers often found piles of executed bodies and vacant houses with blood smeared on the walls.(p.166)

Far from solving the problem, the Shia-dominated government turned out to compound the problem. One example: the Ministry of Health employed Shia militiamen who murdered Sunnis who applied for medical care (p.156). Another example: American officials meeting Iraqi government ministers could never be sure whether the ministers had tipped off the militias who would then try to assassinate the Americans en route to the meeting (p.158). Not really the beacon of democracy Cheney and Rumsfeld swore Iraq would become in a matter of months.

The neo-conservatives’ other hope was that ‘as they stand up, we can stand down’ i.e. as the Iraqi Army and police were trained and began serving, the Americans could reduce their involvement and begin to draw down their forces i.e. leave. This assumption (like all the neo-cons’ assumptions) turned out to be grotesquely flawed because the Iraqi Army and police force turned out to be useless. Army units refused to deploy anywhere but their home district – Ricks describes several occasions on which newly qualified Army units mutinied, tore off their uniforms and deserted their barracks rather than be shipped to another part of the country to support or replace American forces. And they were caught up in the sectarian division of the country i.e. were Sunni or Shia first and Iraqis second. And the police in particular, as well as turning a blind eye to militias from their own ‘side’ were breath-takingly corrupt. In Baghdad US forces found they had to ban the Shia-dominated police from even entering Sunni areas where they were regarded as murderers (p.168), reminiscent of Northern Ireland and Yugoslavia where the security forces ceased to operate above the conflict but became completely identified with one side.

Both these strategies came, by the new boys (Petraeus and his commander in chief Ray Ordieno and their council of advisers) to be referred to pejoratively as ‘rushing to failure’. They had to be dropped.

So George Bush’s decision to acquiesce to mounting calls to change strategy in Iraq referred not only to a change of narrow military doctrine (from war to counterinsurgency) but a wider acknowledgement that the policy of waiting for Iraqi politicians and security forces to take charge of their own country was also not working.

Fastabend’s essay

General David Petraeus was appointed senior military leader Iraq early in 2007. Lt General Ray Ordieno was appointed his number 2, in charge of day to day operations. Major-General David Fastabend was appointed director of strategic operations to Petraeus. He wrote an essay listing some of the complete turnarounds in American policy which were required:

  • there was a hole in the centre of the Iraqi state where the government should be, providing law and order but wasn’t; the militias had stepped in to provide it but the Americans had to occupy that space
  • eliminate extremists not by killing them (more will spring up) but working with them; convert them from terrorists and militia into neighbourhood watches – this was pursued by putting over 100,000 former Sunni insurgents onto the US payroll as ‘the Sons of Iraq’ (p.204)
  • reach out to the radical firebrand oppositionist Shia leader Moqtada al-Sadr – this succeeded when al-Sadr declared a ceasefire in mid-2007 (p.201)
  • ignore the national politicians; work at regional and local level to reconcile Sunni and Shia

Another way of conceptualising the US failure in Iraq is that it fought the war it wanted and not the war that was needed. Dazzled by their status as sole superpower and shiny weaponry and sexy drones and laser-guided missiles and supercomputers, the Yanks thought their technological superiority guaranteed victory in any war. I.e. they lost sight of the fact that war is about people. And war in a catastrophically failed state is about working with the people, over the very long term, to rebuild the state one village, one town, one tribe, one region at a time. Long-term, low-tech, high manpower commitment. ‘Slow, ambiguous operations built not around technology but around human interactions’ (p.162).

America’s reluctance to commit troops and resources, its reluctance to lose even one soldier in combat, its reluctance to admit to itself that it is now an empire, is the subject of Michael Ignatieff’s incisive criticism in Empire Lite.

Points of interest

‘There are two kinds of plan, those that fail and those that just might work’ (p.159).

Rather than recap the entire narrative, I’ll select points of interest:

Ethnic cleansing

I hadn’t realised that in 2005, 2006 and 2007 the Iraqis were practicing ethnic cleansing identical to that in former Yugoslavia: in Baghdad in early 2006 Shia militias carried out car bomb attacks and massacres on Sunni communities and Sunni militias struck back on a daily basis killing 20, 30, 40 civilians every day.

Abbreviations

The group within the National Security Council lobbying for an increase in US troops in Iraq called themselves ‘the surgios‘.

MAMs = middle-aged males, an army category of detainee or prisoner (p.107).

AQI = al-Qaeda in Iraq.

Wasta – Iraqi term for clout, pull, connections, the power to get things done, which in turn generates respect.

Communitarian values

The Americans at all levels were obsessed with their own Western mindset of one-man, one-vote democracy based on the primacy of the atomised individualism produced by advanced capitalist societies. Iraqi society, on the contrary, was based around communitarian values based on respect and dignity, ‘dignity and respect, the core values of Iraqi culture’ (p.213). It took the Americans four years to understand this.

Stability over democracy

Part of the rethink was recalibrating the goals; instead of the Rumsfeld-Wolfowitz aim of setting up Iraq as a beacon of democracy and transforming the entire Middle East, the new Petraeus doctrine was to stop Iraq disintegrating into civil war which spilled over into a regional bloodbath (explained on p.164 and p.224).

Victory and Liberty were replaced as goals by stability and accommodation. Realistic minimalism of the army versus the maximalist rhetoric of the poltroon politicians. (Ahead of his April 2008 testimony to Congress Petraeus referred to himself as a ‘minimalist’, p.287.)

Stability became the goal. Controversially, this involved assessing whether ‘democracy’ contributed to or undermined ‘stability’ and it turned out to be the latter. In other words, the Americans talked their way round to understanding why a failing state like Iraq needs a strong, Saddam-like leader. In fact, American tacticians consulted with Iraqi leaders on just how Saddam had controlled his unruly population and began to borrow his techniques, for example siting many of the troops just outside Baghdad, which is where Saddam based his Revolutionary Guards. Odierno asks himself: ‘What would Saddam do?’ (p.165)

Doing deals

Similarly, a central plank of the surge, and prime cause why violence against US forces fell off, is because the Americans did deals with local Sunni leaders. Many were sick to death of the violence of (Sunni) al Qaeda in Iraq. Interrogations or just conversations with many former insurgents revealed that most of them were hard-up and planted bombs etc for as little as $10 a day. Petraeus organised schemes to take Sunni insurgents onto the payroll which eventually were costing $30 million a month.

But a criticism was that this was also a tactic undertaken by Saddam, who bought off tribal opponents with bribes, allowing sheikhs to create their own tribal armies complete with RPGs, AK47s and so on (p.216). Insoluble problems of Iraqi society.

Examples of Iraqi on Iraqi violence on pages 32, 180, 185, 186, 221, 228, 241.

Contractors

Ricks barely mentions the tens of thousands of security contractors who made a tidy living in Iraq, because they are outside the military and therefore his frame of reference. It is bleakly funny to learn that many contractors paid hefty bribes to local militias to ensure the safety of themselves and those they were protecting, and that the militias then used this money to buy more weapons and ammo to attack the conventional US army – Americans paying militias to kill Americans; terrific system (p.168). At the peak of the surge there were some 156,000 US troops in Iraq but this was beaten by the 180,000 contractors (p.187).

The JAMsters

JAM = Jaysh al-Mahdi, the militia of radical cleric Moqtada al-Sadr, responsible for widespread ethnic cleansing i.e. massacring Sunnis; its members nicknamed JAMsters by many Americans (p.173). Being Arabs, or Muslims, or Iraqis, or just angry young men, JAM factions often fought among themselves. Ricks describes a situation in the Hurriyah neighbourhood of Baghdad when four factions of Jaysh were fighting each other, being Noble JAM, Golden JAM, criminal JAM and ordinary JAM. The Americans called JAM HQ in Najaf and asked them to come and sort it out. This worked because they were paying the JAM authorities respect.

Fear is the key

In Blood and Belonging Michael Ignatieff explains how ethnic nationalism arises when you no longer trust the police or security services to protect you but instead start to fear they will persecute you. Fear is the key motivator, as when, in Iraq, the national police became indistinguishable from the Shiite militias. Who can you turn to to protect you? People like you, ‘your people’, from your tribe or clan or ethnicity or religion. Once this starts to happen it is a downward spiral into tit for tat killings which push communities further apart. Eventually all you can do is physically partition the rival sides to stop them killing each other. Ricks describes the Americans building high concrete blast walls around the remaining Sunni communities in Baghdad to stop Shiite militias carrying out attacks. Peace walls. He appears not to have heard of the similar walls built in Northern Irish cities in the 1980s, the policed checkpoints needed between Serb and Muslim parts of Kosovo (p.173).

Asked in November 2008 what one word best describes Iraq [Ambassador Ryan Crocker] didn’t hesitate: ‘Fear.’ (p.310)

The Brits

The British are only mentioned 3 or 4 times, in the most striking instance when a senior American officer says they’ve basically ‘lost’ in the South i.e. Basra (p.177). As of 28 February 2014 the number of UK personnel deployed to Iraq was 141,640. 179 British Armed Forces personnel or MOD civilians died. Yet by the summer of 2008 Ricks says the Brits had just 4,100 troops at Basra airport ‘doing almost nothing’ (p.268). The dismal British performance is analysed pages 277 to 289.

Darwinian evolution of the insurgents

The insurgents and militias were smart, learned American tactics and behaviours and how and when best to attack. US troops liked to joke that all the stupid and amateurish fighters had been killed off early in the insurgency, leaving the smartest and most adaptive to fight on, becoming steadily smarter and more effective (p.180).

Iraqification

In the kind of high-level conceptualisation which makes his journalism so enjoyable, Ricks suggests that the ‘surge’ (and deals with Sunni insurgents) of 2007 represented the Iraqification of the war. For four years the Americans had been trying to Americanise Iraq; now, at last, they realised they had to let Iraq be Iraq (bloody, tribal, violent) and let themselves be Iraqified (p.219).

Murder board

Petraeus prepared for his September 2007 appearance before Congress by having his inner team submit him to a ‘murder board’ i.e. hit him with the hardest, weaselest questions they could think of (p.245).

Sayings

Good tactics can’t fix a bad strategy (p.160).

An old military aphorism has it that amateurs talk tactics but professionals talk logistics (p.197).

Andrew Krepinevich’s law of the conservation of enemies: Never make more enemies at one time than you absolutely need to (p.223).

It is axiomatic in military affairs that every strength carries its own weakness (p.255).

The cost

By early 2008 the Iraq War, which Cheney, Rumsfeld and Wolfowitz had said would pay for itself, had cost the United States $650 billion, at minimum (p.292).

Afterwards

There are two problems, not so much with the book itself as its place in modern history. The obvious one is that Ricks’s account stops at the end of 2008 (with an 8-page epilogue taking us up to late 2009) and with the whole situation in Iraq profoundly unresolved.

US forces were, in the event, to remain in the country until the very end of 2011 – but even then they left a country in crisis, with the supposedly democratically elected Shia government alienating much of the Sunni population. And this in any case proved to be a brief hiatus since, in summer 2014, US forces had to return to Iraq to combat the new threat of the Islamic State group, which declared a caliphate across parts of north-west Iraq and Syria. US forces were to remain in Iraq for a further seven years (!), from 2014 to 2021.

Written and published so close to the events it’s describing, I had the gnawing sense that The Gamble had been superseded by 15 years of subsequent events, and that therefore many of its judgments might have been rendered obsolete.

This seems particularly true of the second problem which is that, if you Google ‘counterinsurgency+iraq’ you get quite a few articles referring to the whole doctrine Ricks praises being discredited. This is a bummer because the final third of Fiasco is devoted to describing and praising counterinsurgency (COIN) as the way forward, and The Gamble is entirely premised on this military doctrine. If COIN has, indeed, been discredited, then so has the basis of both Ricks’s books.

Whatever detailed, modern (2023) assessments of counterinsurgency in Afghanistan and Iraq conclude, there’s no doubt that they didn’t work in the sense of securing long-term security for their countries, especially Afghanistan, where we all saw the US-trained army and security forces collapse and the Taliban surge back to power in little more than a week in August 2021.

Four thoughts

1. The complexity of the US military machine

As Ricks introduces us to members of the US Army at all levels, of all ranks, in Iraq, back in the States, to serving generals and retired generals, members of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, to educators at West Point and Fort Leavenworth School of Advanced Military Studies, to officials within the White House, the Pentagon, the National Security Council and the State Department, to members of the Senate Armed Services Committee, all kinds of other bodies such as the Defence Policy Board, the American Enterprise Institute, the Iraq Study Group, as well as to academic experts on military history and strategy at place like the John Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies, to commentators and specialist journalists — he builds up a picture of the extraordinarily complicated ecosystem which makes up the US political-military machine. And that’s without mentioning the other two services, the air force and the navy which, of course, have their own vast bureaucracies and hierarchies.

Ricks’s narrative shows that, not only is the US military establishment huge and complex and byzantine, but it is riven with politics and personalities, arguments and ambition, rivalries and debates, which add elements of complication and confusion at every level from the White House downwards.

Reading Rick’s portrait of this vast, lumbering, multi-faceted behemoth helps you really understand how difficult it is to mount a campaign in the first place, and then helps explain the manifold failings and setbacks and false promises and crap strategies which the army of the richest country in the world keeps experiencing.

2. PhDs in the US military

As a footnote to the above, it is also a bit staggering how well educated a lot of these army types are. A lot of the army officers have degrees (impressive) but a surprising number also have PhDs (very impressive). Ricks lists the PhDs in the team Petraeus built around him on page 135. Reminding me of Michael Ignatieff’s comment in ‘The Lesser Evil’ that the US Army is overflowing with frustrated intellectuals. Who’d have thought.

So how does an organisation bulging with over-educated, cleverclogs manage to foul up so often? See point 1. I’ve worked for a number of UK government departments and agencies and have seen at first hand the magical, almost supernatural way in which, the more you fill a room with clever medium and senior-level managers, the dumber the discussion and the worse the outputs.

I personally have sat in a meeting of board members and the chief executive and watched them discussing results which I, the most junior person in the room, charged with monitoring the stats and producing weekl reports, knew to be factually incorrect or were being distorted for political reasons, both internal and external (I mean real politics, deriving from Cabinet and the government).

Should I, the lowliest person in the room, interrupt the presentation being given by the Head of Strategy to the Board and the Chief Executive, and thus embarrass my boss and his boss and his boss; be put on the spot in front of the entire board of the organisation; and with no alternative strategy to propose, just negatively pointing out errors and inaccuracies? Am I likely to speak up in that situation? No, and so I repeatedly watched decisions being boldly taken based on incorrect data and misleading stats.

This is why I enjoyed both Ricks’s books so much, because they really dig down into the psychological reasons behind clichéd expressions such as ‘bureaucratic inertia’ to show why that kind of thing arises and is so hard to combat in practice. It boils down to people being scared of stepping out of the groupthink, being the only one in the room to point out that the emperor is naked, of any sane person preferring to avoid ridicule and rejection, and so going along with decisions they know to be wrong.

3. Iraqi voices but no Iraqi perspective

It’s an obvious point, but this is the account of a man who has for decades been a leading journalist on the Pentagon and the US military. His contacts, his quotes, his grasp of the internal politics and debates within the US Army, the Defence Department, the State Department, the White House, are exceptional.

So there’s lots and lots and lots about the situation in Iraq and America’s military strategy in Iraq and bringing democracy to Iraq and making Iraq a free nation and rebuilding Iraq and the history of Iraq and the religious and ethnic groups of Iraq – all seen from an American point of view, by lots and lots and lots of well-educated US military – but actual voices of actual Iraqis?

Well, it would be false to say there aren’t any, there are – a fair number, in fact, al-Maliki is quoted a lot, as are his advisers, other politicians, al-Sadr, and numerous sheikhs. BUT they are all quoted commenting on American initiatives and American plans and American shortcomings. For a real sense of the Iraqi experience, Iraqi history, Iraq’s political, religious and ethnic challenges, how the Iraqis see it – you’d have to go elsewhere. At the moment I’ve no idea where.

4. Ethnic nationalism

Ricks’s narrative is about the Big Shift within the extended behemoth which is the US political-military machine from a mindset based on winning a war to the mindset of counterinsurgency, which he repeats again and again and again. But my reading of the situation he’s describing is heavily influenced by having just reread Michael Ignatieff’s books about ethnic nationalism and Anthony Loyd’s books about the wars in former Yugoslavia. So what I see is that, while Ricks is praising his heroes for turning the supertanker of American policy in a completely new direction, from 1. a strategy of war-winning to a completely different 2. strategy of counterinsurgency; in the meantime the situation had already passed that point into 3. a civil war between ethnic or religious groups (Sunni versus Shia).

You know the old joke about the late-Victorian British government’s attempts to solve ‘the Irish Question’, that every time the British government thought it had found an answer, the Irish changed the question. Same here. It’s more complicated than that, and Ricks knows more about Iraq than I ever will, but I wonder whether, while he praises Petraeus et al for moving from approach 1 to approach 2, the Iraqis had outmanoeuvred them by moving on to zone 3.

And the thing can be posited about civil wars, especially when they reflect profound ethnic or religious divisions – as in Bosnia or Northern Ireland or Sri Lanka or Sudan – that they are very, very difficult to end, not without partition of the country (as in Ireland and Sudan) or extermination of one party (as when the Sri Lankan government wiped out the Tamil Tigers).

Obviously a huge factor is the well-known leftist position that most of the countries in the Middle East, as in Africa, are the impractical creation of ignorant bureaucrats back in the capital cities of European Empires (especially the British and French) who drew arbitrary borders dividing homogeneous groups and forcing together into new ‘states’ ethnic and religious groups who have nothing in common.

Classically, such naturally fissiparous ‘states’ have to be held together by authoritarian leaders and, when those strongmen are removed, show a strong tendency to collapse into smaller units dominated by one or other ethnic or religious group. Thus Yugoslavia after Tito died. Thus Iraq after Saddam was overthrown. Thus Libya after Qaddafi’s ouster.

Part of the arrogant ignorance of Bush Junior, Cheney and Rumsfeld was thinking Iraq was like Nazi-occupied France; all you had to do was kick out the Nazis and an integrated European nation with a strong secular identity, a citizenry with advanced awareness of their civic rights and responsibilities, would revert to being a peaceful democracy.

But Michael Ignatieff’s visits to the trouble spots he chronicles in his books highlight the problem with this assumption. Ignatieff’s investigations show that such a sophisticated sense of political rights and duties, a widespread sense of civic responsibility, the complex matrix of what development experts call ‘civil society’, take centuries to develop and simply don’t exist in many, probably most, countries in the world.

The Americans removed the dictator and instead of getting a generation of keen young citizens springing up to create a vibrant democracy they got hundreds of thousands of angry militiamen, insurgents and terrorists whose main aim became to massacre as many of the infidel invader or their fellow citizens as possible, in an escalating cycle of tit-for-tat terrorist atrocities.

This sounds exactly like the Bosnia and Kosovo described so vividly by Ignatieff and Anthony Loyd, except so much worse, because exacerbated by the deeply tribal and clan-based nature of Arab culture. It isn’t just the Bosnians against the Serbs as in Yugoslavia; Ricks portrays Iraq as a land with thousands of tribes who all have feuds and vendettas against each other, where tribal or clan loyalty, religious and ethnic allegiance come a long, long way before any thought of the ‘democracy’ or ‘civil rights’ spouted by the invader and their corrupt politicians in faraway Baghdad.

  • ‘One of the mistakes we made early on was not understanding the importance of the tribes,’ Lieutenant General Raymond Odierno (p.110)
  • ‘Tribal society makes up the tectonic plates in Iraq on which everything rests,’ Brigadier General John Allen (p.219)
  • ‘the most powerful socio-cultural dynamic in Iraq, the tribal system…’ Adam Silverman, political adviser to a brigade of the 1st Armoured Division (p.329)

Which begs the really basic question: can such a society ever become a peaceful democracy, as we in the West know it? To which my short answer is, no. Ricks ends his book with a string of first-person testimony from US officers who worked closely with Iraqi politicians, senior police or army officers. Without exception they describe individuals steeped in intimidation, fear and violence who were just waiting for the Americans to leave so they could set about exterminating their enemies. Many of the experts he spoke to predicted a return to civil war, a military coup, or the rise of a Saddam-like dictator.

Here’s highlights of the current Foreign Office advice about travel to Iraq:

The Foreign Office advises against all travel to Iraq and all but essential travel to the Kurdish provinces…Protests [in Baghdad] can, and sometimes do, escalate into violence…Iraq remains subject to regional tensions…You should remain vigilant, have robust security arrangements and contingency plans in place…Terrorists are still very likely to try to carry out attacks in Iraq. You should remain vigilant…There’s also a high threat of kidnapping throughout the country, including from both Daesh and other terrorist and militant groups, which can be motivated by criminality or terrorism.

In a 2006 Senate debate conservative Republican Lindsey Graham said: ‘The American people are beginning to wonder if the Iraqi people can get this right.’ (quoted on page 59). The police chief of Fallujah, a former insurgent named Faisal Ismail al-Zobaie put it simply: ‘No democracy in Iraq. Ever.’ (p.209). Were they right?

Since then

So where is Iraq today? This article gives a brief overview of the current situation. Twenty years after the coalition invasion there are some 2,500 U.S. troops still in Iraq. According to the article this is for two reasons:

  1. to help Iraqi forces in ongoing conflict with the remnants of ISIL in the north-west
  2. to disrupt supply lines from Iran in the east through Iraq, to Lebanon and its ally there, Hezbollah, where Iranian arms could be used in Hezbollah’s ongoing conflict against Israel

Maybe it’s just an awful part of the world and people born in Iraq are condemned to live their entire lives in a violent country, plagued by terrorist atrocities, criminality and continual, low-level religious conflict. So far from the naive imaginings of Cheney, Rumsfeld and Wolfowitz as to be surreal.

Iran

The darkly funniest thing about the whole sorry story is that Saddam’s Iraq had up till the invasion provided a strong, Sunni, Arab bulwark against the power of Shia Iran. With Iraq greatly weakened by the American invasion, Iran has been able to extend its power into Iraq (via tame Shiite politicians and militias) and onwards throughout the region. The biggest single outcome of the American invasion of Iraq has been the empowering of one of America’s bitterest enemies, Iran.

International affairs is undertaken by utopian idiots (Bush, Blair), sorted out by embattled realists (Petraeus), and provides endless black humour to armchair ironists (us).

Humanity

These are the best products of the richest, most powerful nation the world has ever known. Their net achievement? Stupidity leading to mind-boggling violence leading to complete strategic failure.

After immersing yourself in this swamp of arrogant incompetence I don’t see how anyone can believe the rhetoric you hear all the time about ‘combating climate change’ or ‘building a better, fairer world’. The richest, most powerful country in the world spent over a trillion dollars, lost thousands of lives, spent nearly 20 years, and still couldn’t even fix one medium-sized nation among the world’s 200 countries. Nobody is going to save us from our own stupidity.


Credit

The Gamble: General David Petraeus and the American Military Adventure in Iraq, 2006 to 2008 by Thomas E. Ricks was published by Penguin Books in 2009.

Related links

New World Disorder reviews

Imperial Life in the Emerald City: Inside Baghdad’s Green Zone by Rajiv Chandrasekaran (2006)

‘Yee-haw is not a foreign policy.’
(Hand-written sign in the bar of the British compound of the Green Zone, Baghdad)

Why America invaded Iraq

In March 2003 the US Army, accompanied by forces from the so-called ‘coalition of the willing’, invaded Iraq with the aim of overthrowing Saddam Hussein. The architects of the invasion, US Secretary of State for Defence Donald Rumsfeld and Deputy Secretary of Defence Paul Wolfowitz, persuaded all concerned that the Saddam needed to be overthrow because a) he was running programs to produce and launch weapons of mass destruction which presented a clear and present danger to America and other Western nations, and b) he supported Osama bin Laden and al Qaeda, who had been responsible for the 9/11 attacks on New York and the Pentagon.

The neo-con sponsors of the Iraq War

Rumsfeld, Wolfowitz, their chief supporter in the White House, Vice President Dick Cheney, and their gofer at Defence, Douglas Feith, assured the President, the press and the sceptical military that the Army would be greeted as liberators, much like the Allies who liberated Italy and France from Nazi rule. They argued that the US need only deploy the minimum number of troops possible because the Iraqi army and police would quickly take over law and order duties. They didn’t work out a detailed post-invasion plan on how to reconstruct the country after a decade of sanctions and Saddam’s mismanagement had run it into the ground because they thought Iraqi civil servants would remain in place, the various ministries would continue to function smoothly, and that an interim Iraqi government would quickly be put in place. Whatever it cost would be covered by revenue from Iraq’s abundant oil reserves.

Cheney, Rumsfeld, Wolfowitz and Feith were right-wing Republicans, also known as neo-conservatives or neo-cons (p.128). They had a long-standing, hawkish, interventionist view of foreign policy, believing the US should use its military superiority to every other country in order to reshape the world to suit American political and economic interests, and took advantage of the confused and hysterical atmosphere after 9/11 to:

  • remove Saddam and solve the Iraq Problem once and for all
  • rebuild Iraq as a model democracy which would be an example to the region
  • rebuild not only the political system and infrastructure on a Western democratic model, but remake the economy as a model free market economy, privatising all the nationalised industries, setting up a properly run stock market, and opening the country to foreign investment
  • ensure the new Iraqi government would be a friend and ally of Israel, a country to which all neo-con Republicans are fiercely attached

Backing Ahmad Chalabi

The neo-cons (especially Douglas Feith’s Office of Special Plans, p.216) put their faith in the smooth-talking Iraqi exile politician Ahmed Chalabi, head of the Iraqi National Congress who bolstered their thinking at every turn, assuring them Saddam was an immediate threat with his weapons of mass destruction, assuring them the US army would be greeted with flowers and celebrations, assuring them he could form a national government which would be friendly to America and Israel, assuring them the Iraqi economy, for decades a command economy consisting of state-supported industries, could easily be converted to a flourishing free market economy, and so on and so on. All lies and fantasy (p.30).

Anybody who expressed a negative opinion of this wonder-worker was liable to lose their job, such as Thomas Warrick, one of the few staff at ORHA who knew what they were doing but expressed a strong aversion to Chalabi who he regarded as a ‘smarmy opportunist’ (p.40). So Rumsfeld got him fired.

Military operations

The invasion phase of the war began on 19 March 2003 (air) and 20 March 2003 (ground) and lasted just over one month, including 26 days of major combat operations. After 22 days Coalition forces captured the capital city Baghdad on 9 April 2003 after a 6-day battle. On 1 May US President George W. Bush declared the ‘end of major combat operations’.

The Office for Reconstruction and Humanitarian Assistance

The Americans had made some preparations for managing the country after it had been conquered but left it very late and never developed one authoritative, commonly agreed plan; different plans produced by different parts of the bureaucracy floated around, none of them complete in the necessary detail.

It was as late as 20 January i.e. just 2 months before the start of the invasion, that Rumsfeld got round to creating a body to act as a caretaker administration in Iraq until the creation of a democratically elected civilian government. This was the Office for Reconstruction and Humanitarian Assistance (ORHA). They appointed retired Army Lieutenant General Jay Garner as Director, based on Garner’s experience managing the relief effort for Iraqi Kurds in the aftermath of the 1991 Gulf War (p.31).

Garner quickly realised that the lack of a plan for the reconstruction of post-war Iraq was just one among a whole host of problems he faced These included a lack of qualified senior managers to take over every Iraqi ministry and a severe shortage of experienced civil servants to assist them. Senior staff were dumped on him purely because of their ideological commitment to the Republican party rather than any expertise or qualifications.

  • Tim Carney was a retired ambassador. He was nominated to ORHA by Wolfowitz and assigned to run the Iraqi Ministry of Industry and Minerals. Carney had no knowledge whatsoever of industry or minerals. He was given no information and no briefing, no idea how many workers the industry employed, no idea how many factories or state-run companies there were, so he looked it up on the internet and busked it from there (p.38).
  • A bureaucrat from the US Treasury was put in charge of the Iraqi Ministry of Education, despite having no knowledge whatsoever of education.
  • A former ambassador with no experience of trade was put in charge of the Ministry of Trade.
  • Stephen Browning from the Corps of Engineers was asked to head up four Iraqi ministries, of Transport and Communication, Housing and Construction, Irrigation, and Electricity (p.34).

The Great Looting

Then came the looting. While they awaited the end of the conflict in their Kuwaiti hotel rooms Garner and his staff watched on TV the astonishing level of looting which the under-manned US army allowed to happen in the immediate aftermath of the Battle for Baghdad (p.43). Because Rumsfeld had obstinately insisted on keeping the US force to a minimum, the occupying army simply lacked the manpower to protect key buildings and facilities. Day after day American soldiers stood by and let looting on an industrial scale devastate every administrative office in the capital and every factory, warehouse and industry, down to power stations and electricity substations. Everything that could be dismantled, taken away for personal use or for sale on the black market, was.

Tim Carney of ORHA was quickly to conclude that the looting did far more damage to Iraq’s infrastructure than the Allied bombing campaign (p.49). For example, all but one of the nation’s fire stations had been completely looted of all their equipment; the service would need to be rebuilt from scratch (p.100). All bank records of all businesses and municipalities disappeared (p.134). The countries’ universities were stripped of all moveable assets, computers, lab equipment, desks, chairs, even wiring (p.186). Hospitals were completely gutted of all valuables, equipment and medicines (p.235).

With the result that when they finally arrived in Baghdad, Garner and his team had nowhere to stay, no agreed plan, little or no budget, and inherited government buildings which had been ransacked and, in many cases, burned to the ground, with the loss of all the key information about the Iraqi economy, assets and businesses.

Little surprise, then, that ORHA began its work in an atmosphere of confusion and demoralisation which only got worse as the scale of the disaster and the challenge sank in. Its own staff quickly gave it the joke name ‘the Office of Really Hopeless Americans’ (p.32). Garner’s pessimistic reports back to Rumsfeld in Washington, and his insistence that power be handed over to the Iraqis themselves as soon as possible, quickly turned the neo-cons opinion against him.

ORHA replaced by the CPA

With the result that, to the surprise of Garner and his staff, he was relieved of the job after just one month (p.60). In fact it was announced that ORHA itself was being shut down and replaced by a new entity, the Coalition Provisional Authority (CPA). This was to be assigned ‘executive, legislative, and judicial authority over the Iraqi government’ and headed up by staunch Republican, Lewis Paul Bremer III.

When he’d arrived in Baghdad Garner found no accommodation had been arranged for him or his staff. He’d had to scrounge help from spare military officials who had helped him find one of Saddam’s vacant palaces which had escaped bombing but had no water or electricity and so where his staff camped out while Halliburton, the government’s logistics supplier, put them on the long waiting list for camp beds, portable stoves and suchlike (p.55).

Setting up the Green Zone

Garner and ORHA were just one of several US administrative teams, the Army, the CIA and numerous private contractors who quickly realised that the palace area of Baghdad offered many advantages. Even in the first few weeks the general streets of Baghdad were lawless because the Iraqi civil administration had broken down, all the army and police stayed home and there weren’t enough American troops to enforce law and order. Baghdad’s big swish hotels (where the world’s press had stayed during the Gulf War) couldn’t be made secure enough by the insufficient numbers of soldiers and freelance security contractors (p.46).

Whereas, over a decade earlier, Saddam had begun work building palaces and reception buildings on a grand scale in an enclave of the city which fronted on the Tigris River. Here buildings were constructed on an epic scale, even the houses of the staff were luxurious, the roads were wider and shaded by trees. More to the point, Saddam had enclosed the whole thing in a solid, rocket-proof brick wall. The Americans quickly grasped this was a ready-made secure location for all their administrative staff and added 17-foot-high blast barriers topped with coils of razor wire. The precinct had just three entrances which were protected by concrete blast barriers, troops and tanks.

The Americans quickly named it the Green Zone, by contrast with the rest of Baghdad, and then of Iraq as a whole, which quickly degenerated into chaos and violence. Inside these walls, insulated from the privations of the entire Iraqi population which was going without fresh water, electricity and basic supplies, where the complete breakdown in law and order had resulted in burglary, theft, muggings, carjackings, shootings, murder and rapes, the thousand or so fresh-faced staff of the Coalition Provisional Authority, published reports festooned with statistics and graphs showing how the country was going from strength to strength, cooked up impressive project plans for restructuring the economy or turning Iraq into a Western-style democracy, in complete ignorance of the reality of the world outside their comfort zone.

Imperial Life in the Emerald City

And it is this – the heroic, ironic, often hilarious and sometimes tragic disconnect between the pipe-dream rhetoric of the CPA and the steady descent into chaos of the country they claimed to be running – which is the subject of Rajiv Chandrasekaran’s award-winning book, Imperial Life in the Emerald City.

It is ‘imperial’ life because Bremer was, in effect, the viceroy of the imperial power, America, which ran Iraqi affairs from Washington DC. And Chandrasekaran calls it ‘the Emerald City’ because of the happy colour coincidence between ‘Green Zone’ and the Emerald City in the Wizard of Oz books, a handy overlap which also conveys the sense of never-never quality of most of the CPA’s fantasies of nation building.

Chandrasekaran and Thomas E. Ricks

In Fiasco, his extraordinary account of the Iraq War, Thomas E. Ricks gives a high-level and highly analytical account which focuses on all aspects of the military involvement of the war, giving extraordinary insight into just how such a war is conceived and planned, with quotes and comments from an awesome cast of senior military figures, active and retired. Ricks sheds light on the huge amount of bureaucratic in-fighting which accompanies such a huge undertaking, not least between the conservative and sceptical diplomats at the State Department, run by former General Colin Powell (p.34), and the far more gung-ho, hawkish neo-conservatives at the Department of Defence (also referred to as the Pentagon) led by Rumsfeld and Wolfowitz, who despised the former:

Veteran Middle East hands were regarded as insufficiently committed to the goal of democratising the region. (p.95)

Although Chandrasekaran also covers some of the same territory as Ricks (he shows us Rumsfeld and Wolfowitz making the same mistakes as Ricks does, and Powell and other experts expressing the same reservations), by and large he is more firmly in the Green Zone, meeting numerous staffers, describing their everyday life of hamburgers and American movies, working out at the gym, and producing fantasy plans and utopian policies (their ‘crazy ivory tower schemes’, p.254) to please their ideological masters back in Washington which had no possibility of ever being carried out in Iraq. If Ricks is all about the Army, Chandrasekaran is all about the CPA and its people.

Ordinary people and amateurs

For the first part of the book Chandrasekaran is interested in people and their stories, generally the lower echelon staff, who populated the Green Zone. These guys were flown in to staff the CPA, often at very short notice, and generally with little or no expertise in the jobs they were expected to do.

Half had never been abroad before and for many it was their first full-time job (p.15). What comes over loud and clear is that all that mattered was ideological purity and commitment to the Bush Republican Party, that they be ‘the right kind of Republican’ (p.59). Ideology trumped both experience and expertise, as the whole world was able to tell, from the results.

Take John Agresto. He was 58 when Chandrasekaran met him. John had been assigned the daunting task of rehabilitating Iraq’s university system, comprising some 375,000 students located at 22 campuses which had all been trashed in the post-conquest looting. John had no experience of post-conflict reconstruction. He had no experience of the Middle East. His job back in the States was running a small college in Santa Fe with under 500 students. So what the devil was he doing in charge of rebuilding Iraq’s entire higher education system? Well, on the board of that little college back in Santa Fe just happened to be Secretary of Defence Donald Rumsfeld’s wife and, when John had a stint working on the National Endowment for the Humanities, he had got to know Vice President Dick Cheney’s wife, too, and they both told their husbands about him.

Getting a job at the CPA really was a case of not what you knew, or even who you knew but who knew you. However, once you were in post, none of your fancy contacts from back home in the States helped with getting the actual job done. After 8 months of assiduous research, John had concluded that he needed more than $1 billion to rebuild Iraq’s higher education facilities. When Chandrasekaran met him, he’d received just $8 million from the CPA. Neoconservative Republican nation-building…on the cheap (p.3).

At least Agresto had some experience of what he was charged with. Michael Cole was just 22 and barely out of college when he found himself employed by the ubiquitous contracting corporation, Halliburton, as ‘customer service liaison’ for the catering and canteen laid on for the CPA’s 1,000 or so staff. Did he have any experience of catering, of working with the military or in a warzone? Of course not. He had been working as a junior aide to a Republican congressman from Virginia when the Halliburton vice president overheard him talking to friends in a bar about handling irate constituents. She (the vice president) introduced herself, gave him her card, three weeks later Halliburton rang him up and offered him a job in Baghdad. That simple, that random.

Chandrasekaran’s book is about the extraordinary alternative reality which developed inside the enchanted city, populated as it was by young, fresh-faced American college kids who knew nothing about the real world, and less than nothing about Iraqi culture and society, but who carried on churning out PowerPoints and spreadsheets showing US policies transforming the country for the better, improving Iraq according to all kinds of gee-whizz metrics while, in the real world outside their bubble, the country was collapsing into hyper-violent sectarianism.

Another example is Mark Schroeder. This keen young fellow was employed to produce PowerPoint presentations and spreadsheets with graphs showing how everything was getting better and better in liberated Iraq. He had never been outside the Green Zone and had no real idea what conditions were like. He didn’t even interview or talk to the thousand or more Iraqis who had the menial service jobs inside the Zone. He had no interaction with any of the population of the country he was reporting on whatsoever. Instead Mark got all his information from Fox News which, of course, promoted George Bush’s agenda, so he thought everything in Iraq was just dandy (p.25).

When, after some delay, Bremer and his deputies realised the extraordinary power wielded by Iraq’s most influential Shiite leader, Grand Ayatollah Ali al-Sistani, they sent an emissary to him and who did they choose for this crucial mission? An Iraqi-American who knew nothing about politics or diplomacy but was a wealthy urologist from Florida who had developed a penile implant for impotent men (p.88).

The spirit is summed up by the comment of one unnamed staffer: ‘I’m not here for the Iraqis, I’m here for George Bush.’ (p.90) Not many of these staffers had voted Democrat and those who had quickly found out it was a secret best kept to themselves in this overwhelmingly partisan and zealously Republican environment.

Chandrasekaran has a section on how the vetting was carried out by pro-Bush partisans. According to Frederick Smith who served as deputy director of the CPA’s Washington office:

‘The criterion for sending people over there was that they had to have the right political credentials.’ (p.101)

People with much-needed expertise were rejected if they lacked commitment to Bush-type neo-conservatism. Rather than questions about the Middle East, Arabic or Iraq, applicants were questioned about their attitude to the Republican shibboleths of abortion and gun control. So they got an administration of people who voted the right way but had no qualifications for the job.

Bremer’s office advertised for 10 young gofers. The 10 who were hired were all vouched-for solid Republicans. Six of them were put in charge of Iraq’s $13 billion budget although none of them had financial management experience.

Bremer had hugely ambitious plans to completely remodel Iraq’s centrally planned command economy into a free market, neo-liberal, capitalist economy. When the first nominee to this role, Thomas Foley, proved too zealous for the post, Bremer replaced him with Michael Fleischer. Fleischer had no experience whatsoever of creating free enterprise in a formerly socialist economy but…his brother was White House press secretary Ari Fleischman. It was all about contacts and connections, not expertise (p.251). That’s why billions and billions and billions of dollars were completely wasted.

L. Paul Bremer

Chandrasekaran describes the personality and working practices of the CPA’s chief executive, L. Paul Bremer, appointed on 11 May 2003, in chapter titled ‘Control Freak’. (This is not as rude as it sounds. It is how Bremer was described by Henry Kissinger, who he at one point worked for as a special assistant, as described on pages 70, 75 and 215).

Chandrasekaran travels with Bremer to ministries and schools and interviews him en route. Bremer talks a good game. He works long hours, incredibly hard. He insists on seeing every memo, signing off every document. And yet, as the Wikipedia article on the CPA pithily puts it:

At the CPA, Bremer moved quickly to install opaque and corruption-prone methods for the withdrawal and transportation of extremely large amounts of cash often transported from the US to Iraq by C-17 transport plane…The CPA was strongly criticised for its mismanagement of funds allocated to the reconstruction of Iraq, with over $8 billion of these unaccounted for, including over $1.6 billion in cash that emerged in a basement in Lebanon.

American valules. Bremer is, of course, remembered for his first two major acts as ‘viceroy’ of occupied Iraq, which plunged the country into chaos and condemned America to an 8-year occupation, the loss of some 5,000 US troops, an equal number of civilian contractors and a truly awesome amount of money, at least $757 million. Wikipedia again:

The first act of the CPA under Bremer, Coalition Provisional Authority Order 1, was to order the de-Ba’athification of Iraqi society. On 23 May, CPA Order Number 2 formally disbanded the Iraqi army as well as other public servants including nurses and doctors and eventually led to the direct unemployment of more than 500,000 Iraqi citizens.

Chandrasekaran discusses the background to the debaathification order on pages 76 to 81, and to scrapping the Iraqi army on pages 81 to 86. He goes out of his way to play devil’s advocate, to explain Bremer’s thinking, and point out that he wasn’t alone.

Nonetheless, lots of experts, his colleagues in the CPA, State Department officials and senior army generals, Bremer’s predecessor, Jay Garner, Steve Browning the man running five ministries – all warned that these orders would be catastrophic (p.78). They would create at a stroke over half a million angry, humiliated men and women, rendered jobless and aimless in a society awash with weapons. (Thanks to Donald Rumsfeld’s obstinate refusal to send enough US troops to adequately police the hundreds of military barracks and arms depots these were left unguarded and promptly looted, keeping insurgents and militia groups happily armed and provisioned for the best part of the next decade).

But Bremer went ahead despite all the advice to the contrary and all the critics and warners were proved correct.

Challenges of rebuilding a country

Initially I thought the whole book would be a kind of freeflowing satire of the hapless American’s incompetence as demonstrated by the youth and inexperience of so many staffers. But around page 100 of this 330-page book the narrative becomes a lot more structured. Henceforward each chapter deals in some detail with one particular challenge the CPA faced, namely:

Privatising the economy

Describes the woeful state of the Iraqi economy and CPA officials various plans to convert its socialist command economy into an America-style free enterprise, capitalist economy. This implied a raft of changes which included:

  • privatising the many industries managed entirely by the state
  • changing Iraqi laws to allow foreign companies to invest in Iraqi businesses
  • letting the Iraqi dinar float on international currency markets
  • setting up a stock market according to best international standards of transparency
  • abolishing the complex system by which state industries were subsidised and kept uncompetitive
  • reducing personal taxes to encourage initiative and entrepreneurship

Managing all this was handed over to Bremer’s economics czar, Peter McPherson. Unfortunately, the only difference everyday Iraqis noticed was that a) a lot of them lost their jobs in uncompetitive industries which were closed down; the Iraqi dinar plummeted on international markets so everything became more expensive. An unintended consequence of deleting the complex system of cross-subsidies between state-run industries was that the most efficient of them saw all their capital held in state banks wiped out.

The single most risky change was that, under Saddam, all Iraqi families received free food baskets. The CPA Republicans were strongly against this, wanting at the very least to replace the system with a monthly sum in cash or vouchers, and so they disappeared into evermore complicated and impractical ideas to replace it.

This kind of thing turned out to be very interesting. It was fascinating to learn how 40 or so years of Ba’ath Party rule had created a particular kind of command economy, and fascinating to get into the details of what the CPA wanted to change, and why, and why it was so often impractical.

And the issue of political contacts trumping expertise occurs here as everywhere else. Brought into oversee the privatisation program was Thomas Foley who had no experience of working in a command economy or post-conflict situation, but he was a major Republican Party donor and had been Bush’s classmate at Harvard Business School (p.140)

Crooked contractors

There’s a chapter devoted to a couple of chancers who set up a service supplier company which, initially, bid to provide security at Baghdad Airport, despite having hardly any security guards on their books and little or no experience of such a large project. But Chandrasekaran shows how, in the Wild West environment of post-war Iraq, lack of experience and expertise didn’t stop the companies risk-taking owners from accumulating over $100 million in government contracts before they were revealed as overcharging and scamming. Chandrasekaran doesn’t say as much but the implication is that many of the suppliers of services to a panic-stricken CPA also milked them for millions.

Electricity

A fascinating explanation of why the world’s number one superpower couldn’t get the power working again in a country sitting on one of the biggest reserves of oil and natural gas in the world, thus creating ‘overnight nostalgia for Saddam among people who had cheered his fall (p.170).

Lieutenant General John Comparetto turns the challenge over to Steve Browning, clever and resourceful, who begs electrical engineers from the army, sends them to assess the state of Iraq’s power stations, and uses the information to pull together a national plan (p.173).

I found the technical explanations of why the power grid was in such poor shape fascinating. Basically, ever since he decided to attack Iran in September 1980, Saddam had wasted his nation’s oil income on weapons and war and let its once admirable infrastructure rot. The infrastructure had been further degraded when during the brief Gulf War of 1991 when a few choice American missiles obliterated key parts of the power generating and distribution system. This was followed by 12 long years of sanctions, when the country’s engineers were prevented from getting the spare parts they needed to repair anything. And then, of course, came the brief 2003 war which had just ended:

American bombing during the war damaged about 75% of the country’s power-generating capacity. (p.167)

So that when Browning did his assessment he discovered most of the biggest power stations were held together by string and sellotape and were on their last legs. In other words, to crank electricity generation back up to first world levels would costs billions and billions of dollars of investment (the World Bank eventually calculated it would require $55 billion over 4 years to rebuild Iraq’s infrastructure, p.175).

Trouble is, almost all the other policies of the CPA depended on the whole notion of having a good, reliable power supply. Take privatising Iraq’s industries: who wants to buy a factory which has no electric power. In fact most elements of a modern society, starting with a police service providing law and order, rely on power for computers and even lights in buildings.

Chandrasekaran explains a further bad decision which exacerbated things. Knowing he had far less power than his country needed Saddam took the cynical decision to channel as much as possible of it to Baghdad, home of most of the citizens and also his biggest possible rivals, the army generals. But when he learned about this Bremer, like a good American democrat, decided this was wildly unfair and that the limited power should be distributed fairly around the country. This had the effect of alienating everyone – the entire citizenry of Baghdad who now struggled to have power for even half of the day, thus rendering all kinds of businesses nearly impossible to run, specially anything connected with processing and storing food; but it didn’t please people in provincial towns and cities that much because they, also, only had intermittent power.

Reading Chandrasekaran’s descriptions of the genuinely complicated technical, engineering, managerial, budgetary and political problems thrown up by every single aspect of rebuilding Iraq, for the first time made me start to sympathise with Bremer. It was an impossible job.

Constitutional wrangles

Compared with rebuilding the entire national grid and trying to reboot the economy, the challenge of writing a new constitution should have been easy. it’s not as if the world is short of national constitutions, even if some account had to be taken of Iraq’s heritage, its multi-ethnic make-up and its Islamic faith: after all, there are plenty of Arab states and they all have constitutions.

But in a complicated chapter Chandrasekaran describes how the precise process of how this constitution was going to be written hit insuperable obstacles. To be honest I got lost in the maze of discussions but I think Bremer wanted to convene a cohort of leaders of different communities who would draft a constitution, whereupon some kind of national election would be held about just the constitution alone, which would then be installed or adopted and only then would actual elections be held for the first government.

But there were problems every step of the way, starting with the highly contentious choice of who would be the members of the convention who would produce a draft constitution, given the requirement to take account of the country’s three main groups, the Sunni and Shia Arabs and the Kurds. Another cause of disagreement the issue of exiles and remainers i.e. the animosity between leaders who’d lived in exile for decades and often lost touch with life under Saddam but had the ear of people in Washington such as Cheney and Rumsfeld; and those leaders who’d remained in the country and, by necessity, made compromises with Saddam and the Ba’ath Party.

Then there was the simple question of whether any of these so-called ‘leaders’ had any actual followings in the country at large or were just chancers who’d floated to the surface and succeeded in sucking up to the Americans. `The only way to find out was to hold elections. But elections couldn’t be held until you had a constitution. But what kind of mandate did these politicians hand-picked by the Americans have if none of them had been elected?

And this is where Bremer’s plans ran into Iraq’s most influential Shiite leader, Grand Ayatollah Ali al-Sistani who intervened to publish a fatwah or holy ruling which is that no constitution should be accepted unless it was drawn up by elected representatives, not Bremer’s hand-picked crew. (It is very characteristic that key CPA staff involved in the constitution building were seeking to establish an entirely Western separation of church and state and therefore thought al-Sistani not only could be ignored but should be ignored, p.183).

All these forces interacted to produce a situation of mind-boggling complexity which Chandrasekaran explains at great length and made me feel even more sorry for Bremer, working 12 hour days and getting nowhere.

Other reforms

Only somewhere in this sequence of issue-based chapters did I begin to realise that the book amounts to a history of the CPA and its long list of utopian fantasy reforms. There are entire chapters or long passages devoted to other major issues, including:

  • rebuilding the entire medical system which had been damaged in the war and then trashed beyond repair in the national looting, a huge project with multiple aspects which was handled by a succession of appointees (Frederick M. Burkle Jr, Steve Browning, James K. Haveman Jr) who developed complicated multi-faceted plans, fought valiantly to get adequate funding, up against the shrinking deadlines imposed by the evershifting constitutional arguments and all of whom, in the end, failed (pages 232 to 244)
  • setting up a media service to compete with the anti-American messages of all the Arab TV and radio stations Iraq’s citizens tuned into
  • rewriting Iraq’s entire highway code: this task was handed to John Smathers who was a personal injury lawyer from Maryland; lacking any other sources he based his new Iraqi highway code on the  highway code of his home state, Maryland, which he downloaded from the internet and tweaked to local conditions; in the event his code was merged with the eccentric and often irrational one proposed by Iraqi officials and both, in any case, carried on being ignored by both police and drivers; Smathers was seriously injured in an insurgent ambush and flown back to the States before his ineffective, mongrel code was finally signed into Iraqi law by Bremer (pages 263 to 268)
  • persuading Iraq’s scientists, especially involved in weapons programmes, to come out of hiding and join a new science centre where they could make peaceful and positive contributions to the country, assorted out by unconventional State Department nominee Alex Dehgan

And, of course, all this was being attempted in a country which was becoming more violent and lawless by the day. For most of the period Chandrasekaran covers the Green Zone was an oasis of well-lit, well-fed calm in a city racked with violence. But then he gives a harrowing description of a rocket attack on the al-Raschid Hotel on the edge of the Zone and the severe injuries sustained by Colonel Elias Nimmer whose hotel room was directly hit by a rocket, 26 October 2003. The atmosphere deteriorated. Many staffers decided they had to leave.

The Sadr Revolt

By page 200 I’d realised that the book amounts to a history of the Coalition Provisional Authority, which ended with the muted ceremony whereby Bremer formally handed power over to the Interim Iraqi Government on 28 June 2004 ad flew home.

I’d begun to formulate a mild criticism that Chandrasekaran’s narrative focuses entirely on the history of the civilian CPA with almost no mention let alone analysis of the deteriorating military and security situation outside the walls of the Emerald City (much more the subject of Ricks’s Fiasco) – but then, at this point, the narrative suddenly switched into full battle mode.

The penultimate chapter starts innocuously by describing another day in the life of Sergeant Jerry Swope as he drives his team of Humvees into the tightly packed slum quarter of Baghdad known as Sadr City on their regular, boring but very smelly mission to drain the open sewers which overflow into the streets as part of the general decay of all Iraq’s infrastructure. The whole area was the stomping ground of radical young Shiite cleric, Muqtada al-Sadr, who had organised his followers into what was loosely described as ‘the Mahdi Army’. Jerry saw disaffected young men hanging round on the streets but they’d never caused trouble before.

What Jerry didn’t know was that five days earlier, on 28 March, Bremer had decided to take Sadr on. First he closed Sadr’s al-Howza newspaper for an article which likened Bremer to Saddam Hussein. Then the day before, Bremer had Sadr’s main man in Najaf, Mustafa Yaqoubi, arrested for an alleged murder.

Before they knew it Jerry’s patrol came under attack, for pistol, AK47 and RPG fire. When they tried to accelerate out of danger they found the road blocked. When he reversed he discovered two of his four Humvees had been rendered immobile. So he gathered his men and ran down the nearest alleyway till they found a 3-story house, stormed into it, set up machine guns on the roof and became seriously besieged. He radioed headquarters who sent out relief vehicles and, when these ran into trouble, seven tanks. Jerry and his men were besieged till after dark and ammunition was running low when they were finally rescued. In this one encounter the army suffered eight soldiers dead and 50 wounded.

It was the start of the 10-week-long Shia Uprising which made not just parts of Baghdad into no-go warzones but spread to other towns and cities across the predominantly Shiite south. Later, Army generals were scathing of Bremer’s behaviour; he had taken on the leader of up to 10,000 heavily armed militiamen with no military plan whatsoever. Bremer though al-Sadr would meekly back down like the editor of some local paper in America. Instead he triggered a major insurrection across the country.

The First Battle of Fallujah 4 April to 1 May 2004

What made it nearly catastrophic was it occurred as the same time as the Battle of Fallujah. This city is 70 kilometres west of Baghdad and a Sunni stronghold. Ever since the occupation there had been a series of very violent incidents, with American troops shooting and killing unarmed protesters, and a steady flow of fatal attacks on US soldiers.

On 31 March 2004 Iraqi insurgents in Fallujah ambushed a convoy containing four American private military contractors from Blackwater USA. All four were shot dead, their bodies mutilated, burned and strung up from a nearby suspension bridge. Footage of the bodies and local civilians shouting and cheering were given to Arab news stations and beamed round the world.

Inevitably this caused outrage etc in Washington but, in Chandrasekaran’s account, the key fact is that Defence Secretary Donald Rumsfeld assured President Bush that Fallujah could be taken and pacified by US Marines with few if any casualties, and the guilty parties brought to justice. He claimed the good inhabitants of the city would willingly hand over the murderers to the authorities (p.306).

This was just the latest in a long line of ignorant, arrogant, wishful thinking and profoundly wrong opinions delivered by Rumsfeld, a man who emerges from both Ricks’ and Chandrasekaran’s books as a dangerous moron.

Because when Rumsfeld persuaded Bush to send in the Marines, it turned out they met far stiffer resistance than anybody anticipated, with American troops dying on the first day and numbers steadily escalating, not to mention the many innocent civilians killed. Meeting resistance, the Americans increased their firepower, raining death from helicopter gunships. Footage of all this was also beamed round the Arab world and helped crystallise the image of the Americans as trigger-happy murderers of unarmed women and children.

Not easy to be an imperial power, is it?

But the massive assault, which threatened to drag on for days, was unpopular not only around the Arab world, but with America’s nominal allies. When British Prime Minister Tony Blair rang up from Britain saying it must stop, President Bush reluctantly stopped it in mid-flow. The Marines commanding officer was livid. He estimated they were two days away from fighting their way to the city centre and securing the whole city. Don’t start a military offensive if you’re not prepared to carry it through. But in a way that’s the moral of the entire invasion and occupancy; wishing a fantasy goal (convert Iraq to a lovely liberal democracy) without willing the means (huge numbers of troops, a comprehensive political, engineering and economic plan, and a huge amount of money).

Impact on the CPA

The impact on the CPA was simple: all reconstruction shut down. The fighting dragged into early May and the CPA was due to hand over power to the Iraqi Provisional Government in June. What was the point?

In the last few pages Chandrasekaran describes the last-ditch attempts of committed CPA staff to push through at least some reforms, notably the heroic attempts of John Agresto to screw funding out of the elephantine US bureaucracy for his cherished restoration of Iraq’s universities.

But he also quotes quite a few staffers reflecting on their achievements. It was a failure. Ignorant of conditions in wider Iraq, ignorant of Iraq’s history, social economic make-up, unable to a man to speak the local language, cocooned in their bubble, highly educated staffers fretted about rewriting the Iraqi highway code or the precise medicines to be placed on a national formulary or fantasising about giving every home in the country broadband access while beyond their walls, hundreds of thousands of angry young men, deprived of their jobs in the army or police or fired because they’d been Ba’ath Party members, plotted their revenge, which exploded that spring of 2004 in insurrection and insurgency right across the country.

It’s not about democracy, it’s about civic society

One guy puts his finger on it. It’s a piece of cake to ‘build’ a democracy, to write a spiffy new constitution, hold a census, draw constituencies on a map and arrange a day when everyone puts an X next to a candidate. That’s easy.

Whereas it’s almost impossible to build a deeply rooted civil society of the type which exists in the advanced West. Our liberal democracies are hundreds of years old, with their roots in even older values of Protestantism with its emphasis on individual human rights, the primacy of the individual conscience and so on. It’s taken at least 300 years, since the time of Locke and the post-English Civil War theorists, to combine a secular philosophy of individualism with the panoply of complicated fiscal and economic policies (the establishment of the Bank of England, the development of banking law, the invention of the limited company) which enabled the rise of industrial capitalism in the West – and these developments were not without all kinds of wars and civil wars, continental conflagrations and atrocities even in the so-called ‘civilised’ West.

To think that the products of this deep, rich and complicated history can be imposed on a country with a completely different history, culture and religion shows a moronic lack of self awareness. Chandrasekaran focuses on Agresto because it’s his summary that the book ends with:

The problem with democracy building is that we think democracy is easy – get rid of the bad guys, call for elections, encourage ‘power sharing’, and see to it that somebody writes a bill of rights. The truth is the exact opposite – government of the few or government by one person is what’s easy to build; even putting together good autocratic rule doesn’t seem to be that hard. It’s good, stable and free democracies that are the hardest thing. America’s been so successful at being a free and permanent democracy that we think democracy is the natural way to rule [but it isn’t]…We as a country don’t have a clue what has made our country work… (p.320)

My interpretation is that the key component to successful Western democracy is none of the apparatus of democracy itself, nor the details of a particular economic model (free market capitalism). What makes them work is a very deep-seated commitment among most of the population to civic spirit and civic responsibility. We abide by the rules, we abide by the law, no matter how grudgingly, because our parents did and they brought us up in these traditions, in this culture.

The evidence from Chandrasekaran’s book is the Iraqis had absolutely none of this. Every Iraqi in any position of power demanded a bribe to carry out even the slightest duty. The Iraqi police demanded bribes to let malefactors off. Iraqi civil servants demanded bribes before they would process your claim.

The objective rule of law does not exist. Iraqi culture relies entirely on family, clan and religion, elements of personal identity it gives vastly more importance than most socially atomised Westerners can grasp. Rather than be loyal to some remote state or its officials who are corrupt to a man, for generations people have put their family, their clan, their tribe, and their religious allegiance first.

Handing out a spiffy new constitution along with a whole set of ridiculous documents like a westernised highway code, while the actual population was suffering from power shortages, food shortages, water shortages and anarchy on the streets, was the height of fatuousness.

Summary

Thomas E. Ricks’s book, Fiasco, is the irreplaceable, definitive account of the comprehensive lack of planning by Washington politicians and the military for the post-conquest situation which led to catastrophe in Iraq.

Chandrasekaran’s book perfectly complements it by showing you what the lack of a plan meant on the ground, in practice, when the badly conceived, badly organised and badly staffed Coalition Provisional Authority tried to rebuild and remodel Iraq’s economy, infrastructure and political system, and why it was always doomed to abject failure.

Read together these two books amount to a crushing indictment of the American political class, in particular the ideologically driven fantasy world of the Republican Party, and above all the unbelievably stupid, ignorant, short-sighted and disastrous policies promoted by Dick Cheney, Donald Rumsfeld and Paul Wolfowitz. Paul Bremer I came to pity for the impossibility of the task he was handed, but he too was blinded to reality by his ideological Republicanism and made a series of awesomely bad decisions which helped plunge an entire country into murderous chaos.


Credit

Imperial Life in the Emerald City by Rajiv Chandrasekaran was published by Bloomsbury Publishing in 2006. Page references are to the 2008 Bloomsbury paperback edition.

New World Disorder reviews

Men at Arms by Evelyn Waugh (1952)

‘I’m what’s called a “conducting officer”. I take American journalists round fighter stations. But I shall find something else soon. The great thing is to get into uniform; then you can start moving yourself round. It’s a very exclusive war at present. Once you’re in, there’s every opportunity.’
(Lord Ian Kilbannock explaining to Guy the importance of getting on in a war, Men at Arms)

Men at Arms is the first in what developed into a trilogy of novels about the Second World War which Waugh named The Sword of Honour trilogy. It tells the story of devout Catholic, conservative, standoffish but honourable and frequently depressed fellow, Guy Crouchback:

Thirty-five years old, slight and trim, plainly foreign but not so plainly English, young, now, in heart and step…

The novel starts with the outbreak of the Second World War and follows Guy’s long, clumsy and sometimes very funny progress through the military machine, with a world of details about the farcical bureaucratic aspects of army life.

But the book also includes, like a persistent background hum, Guy’s deep Catholic faith and his feel for the ‘old’ values of religion and an older traditional way of life embodied in the figure of Guy’s venerable father, Mr Crouchback.

And the book’s other understated but persistent theme is for Guy’s loneliness and isolation, his unhappiness, sometimes sinking as low as actual despair. For too long, the narrative tells us, Guy has inhabited a ‘dry, empty place’ of the soul.

The Crouchback family

How so? Well, Guy’s character is carefully constructed to evoke the same kind of pity and compassion he was seeking to evoke in Brideshead Revisited, the sense of the decline and fall of a once noble family, the sense of quietly heroic old buffers trying to keep up ancient values and dignity in a world gone to hell.

Guy’s father is over 70, a quiet, decent man of deep devout Catholic faith who has nobly weathered a series of setbacks. He is the representative of a family which can trace its lineage back to the time of Henry I. For centuries the Crouchback family have lived in a country estate named Broome, somewhere in north Devon. But the family suffered a) personal and b) financial setbacks.

On the personal front, Mr Crouchback’s wife gave him four children then died young, leaving him with a permanent sense of sadness. Worse was to come because, at the outbreak of the Great War, the eldest son and heir, Gervase, went straight from his Catholic private school, Downside, into the Irish Guards, where he managed to get himself killed on his first day in the trenches. Then the second son, Ivo, always a loner and oddball, when he was 26 went missing from home and was discovered months later, holed up in a lodging in Cricklewood where he was deliberately starving himself to death. He was brought home but the damage was done and he died soon after.

There was an only daughter, Angela, who married a non-Catholic, an ambitious chap who’s gone on to become a successful Conservative MP, Arthur Box-Bender.

And Guy himself. Guy also ‘married out’ of the family religion, marrying the beautiful non-Catholic socialite, Virginia. He took his younger son’s share of the diminished family fortune and settled in Kenya, running a farm beside a mountain lake where the flamingos rose at dawn first white then pink. Wow. But his wife pined and said she needed to go to England for a break and then, after 6 months or so, wrote to announce she was leaving him, for a mutual friend named Tommy Blackhouse.

‘Poor Guy, you did get in a mess, didn’t you? Money gone, me gone, all in one go. I suppose in the old days they’d have said I’d ruined you.’
‘They might.’

Now, Guy is a Catholic, his father is a Catholic, his sister is a Catholic and so they all take it for granted that, although he can get divorced according to the law of the land, he cannot be divorced in the eyes of God. In other words, he will never be able to remarry, never be able to have children, in particular a son. Therefore the family name is doomed to die out. This is the pessimistic scenario Waugh has engineered for his characters, one source of the sense of loss and mild depression which hangs over the figure of Guy Crouchback.

His non-Catholic brother-in-law Box-Bender is just the most prominent of their friends who think this is all nonsense: Guy should just remarry, have children, reclaim the home farm, revive the estate and the family name. Where’s the problem? When Guy meets up with his ex-wife again in London, she also is blissfully light-hearted about it all:

‘You never married again?’
‘How could I?’
‘Darling, don’t pretend your heart was broken for life.’
‘Apart from my heart, Catholics can’t remarry, you know.’
‘Oh, that. You still keep to all that?’
‘More than ever.’

But Box-Bender, Virginia and all the rest of them are pagans, non-believers, not part of the clique, not part of sinn fein (Irish for ‘ourselves’), of the cosa nostra (Italian for ‘our thing’), of the special ones. They are not Catholics, and Catholicism, at least in Waugh’s hands, is not only a theological but a sociological marker, which sets the believer apart and, though he doesn’t overplay this, pretty obviously marks them as morally and spiritually superior to everyone else around him.

So much for a) the personal; as to b) the financial situation, in the aftermath of the First World War the estate became slowly too large and costly for Mr Crouchback to run. So he sold off the contents (attending the auction himself), let the house to a convent and retired to a hotel in Matchet, a nearby seaside resort.

However, it is important for Waugh and his characters that the ancient rituals do not completely die out and so ‘the sanctuary lamp still burned at Broome as of old’ and Guy’s father attends mass there once a year.

So, both financially and personally, the Crouchback family has fallen a long way and Guy is its embattled, lonely, often depressed last representative.

Guy is a loner

Guy’s Kenya period is underplayed, referred to only in a couple of sentences. Much more is made of the family’s Italian property, ‘Castello Crouchback’, on the idyllic Italian island of Santa Dulcina delle Rocce, a property bought by Guy’s grandfather back in the time of Queen Victoria. In fact the novel opens with a historical passage describing the first arrival of those grandparents on a yachting holiday at the island and their decision to buy the run-down ruins.

You might have thought these opening passages would afford luxury descriptions of pre-war Italy, and they do, a bit, but what they’re really for is to establish a) the penumbra of sadness which hangs over Guy ever since his wife left him eight years earlier, and b) the way he can never really make friends. He’s always an outsider. The Italian villagers take to nearly all the other expats on the island, they are sympatico, but Guy is not simpatico.

He was not loved, Guy knew, either by his household or in the town. He was accepted and respected but he was not simpatico.

Guy is lonely. Inside him is a blankness, an emptiness he can’t put into words, his imagination a prey to mournful images:

Sometimes he imagined himself serving the last mass for the last Pope in a catacomb at the end of the world.

It is against this complex family and personal background that the declaration of war comes on 3 September 1939 and (like many other men) Guy is hugely relieved to escape the frustrations and unhappiness of personal life, and make a clear and unambiguous commitment: to return to England to serve his king and country and fight against unambiguous evil.

Guy back in England

All the above is explained in a sort of prologue to the book. The main action of the novel opens with the declaration of war and Guy packing his stuff to return from his Italian island home to England to serve king and country.

Guy arrives in London hoping to find a role in the army straightaway. He goes to his club, Bellamy’s, every day. Everyone is in turmoil. Everyone has evacuated their families from their London places and sent them down to the country. Box-Bender is locking up his London place and moving in with two male friends. Guy embarks on a campaign to get himself into the army, buttonholing military friends and writing countless letters to ministries and old contacts. No joy.

So he goes to stay with his sister Angela at her home in Gloucestershire.

Box-Bender’s house was a small, gabled manor in a sophisticated village where half the cottages were equipped with baths and chintz.

In a typically comic/farcical detail, their hallway is stuffed with crates of ‘Hittite tablets’ evacuated from the British Museum.

Guy is impressed by Arthur and Angela’s son, Tony, young and keen, who’s already got himself a place in the army, lucky blighter. They gossip about all the local families, some who’ve left the country altogether (the Abercrombies have decamped to Jamaica) and about the numerous accidents resulting from the blackout. Scandalised reports of the crime wave prompted by the blackout, lots of muggings.

After staying the night Guy travels down to see his father at the pub, the Marine Arms, in Matchet, where he took rooms as a long-term resident after he relinquished the estate at Broome. Like everywhere in England it’s in a tizzy because of the war, packed with an unusual numbers of guests, some of the staff have been conscripted etc. In the dining room, his father introduces him to Tickeridge, a hairy old cove who’s a major in the Halberdiers. When Guy expresses a genuine wish to be in the army, Tickeridge says he’ll see what he can do. Ha! Contacts. It’s not what you know, or who you know – it’s who your father knows!

Guy joins the army

And so Guy finds himself one of a new cohort of officers in the Royal Corps of Halberdiers, nicknamed the Apple Jacks and the Copper Heads, a fictional regiment which is going to be central to his career in the army and all three novels. His closest associate is a lightly eccentric fellow called Apthorpe.

Both being that much older, they find themselves referred to as ‘uncle’. Lots of detail of army protocol, an extension of the strict rules around correct dress which were drummed into him at school, then university. Regimental traditions. Pen portraits of the other new officers, namely de Souza, Sarum-Smith, Leonard and a slightly shifty chap called Trimmer.

Guy joins his regiment

Guy joins the Halberdiers at their peacetime barracks. There is basic training and squarebashing i.e. drill on parade grounds. There is a lot of fuss about dressing correctly for different functions at different times of day, for example, the officers have to dress appropriately, and immaculately, for dinner in the mess hall.

It is obvious to me, at any rate, how life in the army follows naturally from life at prep school, life at private school, life at Oxford or Cambridge, and then life in the kind of upper class country house which Waugh idealises. What they all have in common are servants who do all the drudgery, change bedding, do all laundry, clean shoes and boots and cook and bring drinks. Their country houses are full of servants, their junior boys fag for the seniors at private school, there are ‘scouts’ to clean their rooms at Oxford and waiters bring meals in hall dinners, but on the other side of the ledger, in return for all these privileges, it is expected that the beneficiary, the boy growing up in a country house, at private school or Oxford, and then an officer in a good regiment, will follow the rules and there are lots and lots of rules governing all aspects of behaviour, dress, speech and thought.

It is a world of huge privilege but also of tremendous constraints. There is often no legal punishment for breaking the rules, but the army has a wide variety of sanctions for chaps who do not behave like an officer and a gentleman, and the narrow society of London clubs which Guy moves in also has its sanctions, its ability to cut or snub anyone who behaves incorrectly.

Brigadier Ben Ritchie-Hook

We are introduced to the feared and renowned figure of Ben Ritchie-Hooke, who will become their brigadier. I don’t really understand the structure of the British army, but I think what is happening is that , now war has been declared, all regiments, which had been allowed to dwindle in peacetime, are being rapidly up to full strength, recently retired officers asked back in and new officers being recruited. This is the new intake of officers which Guy is part of. First they will be trained, then newly recruited and conscripted ordinary soldiers will arrive and be put in their charge. At some point the regiment will become fully operational and Ben Ritchie-Hook will come into full command.

Throughout the first part of this novel this process takes place, observed from Guy’s point of view, sometimes, confusing the reader, sometimes confusing even Guy who’s in the thick of it.

Anyway, Ritchie-Hook is an almost Monty Python level of a caricature of a senior army officer. He wears an eye patch and a black leather glove on one hand, having lost an eye and fingers and thumb in battle. A sharp line is drawn between the initial commander in chief of the barracks who oversees thorough but pedestrian training, and the terrific change in mood which takes place when Ritchie-Hook arrives and takes over. He is all about biffing the enemy.

For example, the initial rifle range practice consists of long boring afternoons loading your gun, lying down, firing at a distant target, and having the target monitor flag whether you got a hit, a bullseye etc. By contrast, under Ritchie-Hook the brigadier himself runs up and down the trench at the end of the range waving a stick with a tin hat on it above ground level and defies his men to hit it. Later they have to crawl on their hands and knees just under a barrage of live fire.

Ritchie-Hook is a wonderful comic creation and the trigger for a series of comic incidents. For example he first appears at a drinks party held by a senior officer where, through a series of verbal misunderstandings, he mistakes Guy for Apthorpe the fellah who was in Africa for years, gruffly dismissing the fact that one of his officers seems to have spent the 1930s in Italy, no good that, don’t like the sound of that – which of course refers to Guy who keeps very silent about the fact for the rest of the evening. Comedy of manners.

but he also allows Waugh to create the kind of war he wants, which is farce. If you read war books from the Great War you are left in no doubt that it was a tragedy of enormous scale. Anyone coming to Waugh’s Sword of Honour trilogy expecting the same will be surprised. It is overwhelmingly concerned with the boring humdrum details of training and office politics (as officers jostle for promotion) and bureaucracy and pettifogging rules, interspersed with moments of ludicrous farce. Only at the very end are any guns fired in anger and then only a dozen or so and for a few pages, on a tiny night-time excursion onto a beach in Africa which is over half an hour after it began and achieves nothing.

Southsand prep school

The officers are sent to a place called Kut-al-Imara House at Southsand-on-sea. It is a preparatory school, vacated by staff and pupils so the army can take over. Its rooms are named after World War One battles and, as Guy explores it on arrival, he paints a very vivid picture of a certain kind of lower league school, redolent of embarrassment and shame.

He leant against a coil of antiquated iron pipes and was surprised to find them hot. They seemed to lack all power of radiation; a yard from them there was no sensible warmth. He could imagine a row of little boys struggling to sit on them, tight-trousered boys with adenoids and chilblains; or perhaps it was a privilege to sit there enjoyed only by prefects and the First Eleven. In its desolation he could see the whole school as it had been made familiar to him in many recent realistic novels; an enterprise neither progressive nor prosperous. The assistant masters changed often, he supposed, arriving with bluff, departing with bluster; half the boys were taken at surreptitiously reduced fees; none of them ever won a scholarship or passed into a reputable public school or returned for an Old Boys’ Day or ever thought of his years there with anything but loathing and shame. The History lessons were patriotic in design, turned to ridicule by the young masters. There was no school song at Kut-al-Imara House. All this Guy thought he snuffed in the air of the forsaken building.

It’s one more image which brings the reader up short and makes you realise just how much Waugh was writing for readers of his own class and not for the humble likes of you and I. And also one more example of the way this class obsesses about its prep and private schools. It’s a common observation that Waugh’s generation of writers – including George Orwell, Cyril Connolly, W.H. Auden and many others – never really seem to have escaped the clothes, drill, mannerisms and world view inculcated by an English public school system which reached a kind of acme in their day.

And then the equally commonly commented-on fact that so many of the institutions of English public life – the quadrangles of Oxford and Cambridge, the quadrangles of the inns of court for lawyers, the quads and committee rooms of Westminster, the parade grounds and officers messes of the army – are a continuation of that ordered, regimented, elite, blinkered, narrow but highly effective view of life.

The characters frequently compare this or that army regulation to ‘school’, the narrator compares this or that situation to something similar at a public school. It comes as no surprise when a prep school moves into Malchett and hire old Mr Crouchback as a supply teacher, teaching, of course, not maths or geography or something useful, but, of course, Classics, ancient Greek to be precise. Apthorpe even takes Guy, one drunk night, in a taxi out to the location of his prep school Staplehurst, now, he discovers to his horror, demolished and a modern estate built over it. Sic transit…

Anyway, life at Southsand is the backdrop for Waugh giving a thousand and one little details of army life, starting with the typical ‘foul-up’ that Guy and his cohort of officers arrive at Southsand station an hour after the bus arranged to pick them up had left and having to make their own way by taxi. Bureaucratic cock-up typical of hundreds and hundreds more which Guy will become used to in army life.

There are comic incidents. At a guest night for the regiment the officers end up getting drunk and playing a game of rugby with a waste paper basket and when everyone piles onto Guy his knee is painfully wrenched. It swells up and so for weeks afterwards, he wears a bulky dressing, needs a cane to walk and is excused drill practice.

When his fellow older officer, Apthorpe also manages to injure his leg on a drunken night out, the two eldest new officers, who had both already gained the ambivalent nickname ‘uncle’, both appear limping and using canes, to general hilarity. The comedy is like that. Schoolboy comedy.

Similarly, Guy discovers he can’t actually see the targets at the firing range at the statutory 300 yard distance, thus discovering that he needs glasses, but on a whim, instead has a monocle made by a local optician, which solves his firing range problem but, of course, also contributes to making him a figure of fun.

Another little plot strand is the Italian restaurant kept by Mr Pelecci which they take to frequenting, chatty Mr Pelecci often sitting with them and chatting about the news. They don’t at first realise that he is a spy.

Catholic theology on Guy’s marriage

The officers are allowed out to explore the town. Guy and Apthorpe join the town yachting club, chiefly for its bar. He meets a Mr Goodall, Ambrose Goodall, who turns out to be a Catholic convert with a hobby of studying the old Catholic families of England. They have lunch and dine and go to the yacht club bar and it emerges that Goodall knows the history of Broome and Guy’s own family. And then, in the context of another family, in passing remarks that, theologically, it is no sin or crime for a man to have sex with his divorced wife as, in the eyes of God, she has never been separated from him. Although Virginia has been unfaithful, he hasn’t, and so the marriage is still, theologically speaking, valid.

Seduction of Virginia

This leads to disastrous episode where Guy tracks Virginia down in London. She is, typically for him and the circles they move in, staying at Claridge’s hotel. He moves into a room down the hall and she is initially delighted to bump into him, as she is delighted to bump into everyone, darling, during this beastly ghastly war. He invites her round for drinks and it is then that he puts his arm along the back of the sofa and makes an attempt to kiss her. Virginia thinks he’s being ridiculous. If you’re going to do it, do it properly, and puts down her drink and kisses him back.

But then she asks what’s brought this one and Guy makes the disastrous mistake of explaining the theological position i.e. she is still his wife in the eyes of God and it is still theologically permitted for him to have sex with her. This shocks and horrified her much more than if it were a casual attempt at sex and she stands up and moves to the fireplace expressing horror, at which point Guy really screws things up by venting 8 years of frustration and accusing her of being a tart. Then there is a big silence when they both react to what has happened and been said.

Virginia: ‘You take too much for granted.’
Guy: ‘That’s an absolutely awful expression,’ said Guy. ‘Only tarts use it.’
Virginia: ‘Isn’t that rather what you think I am?’
Guy: ‘Isn’t it rather what you are?’

Guy grovellingly apologises, more because it’s bad form and poor manners than untrue, and they sort of patch things up. But, later, leaving Claridge’s, the incident does have the positive effect that it seems to have laid a ghost. His true feelings for Virginia have come out and he feels some sense of closure. It is  14 February 1940.

Apthorpe

His fellow ‘new’ officer, Apthrope, is arguably the dominant figure of the novel. Indeed the three main sections the book is divided into each use a Latin word to describe the three stages of Apthorpe’s progression, namely: Apthorpe Gloriosus, Apthorpe Furibundus and Apthorpe Immolatus where gloriosus is self evident, furibundus means ‘frantic, frenzied, maddened’ and immolatus means ‘having been immolated or sacrificed’.

Apthorpe’s character fascinates Guy from the start, his comic obsessions and behaviour. Thus, when Apthorpe is promoted to rank of captain ahead of Guy, he insists Guy salute him, and asks him to ask all the other new officers to do so, too. This, apparently, was technically correct but not necessary and makes Apthorpe look like a pedantic fool; in fact his fellow officers play various games with the act of saluting or not saluting when Apthorpe expects it which drives the poor man into a frenzy.

A platoon of signallers are billeted with the Halberdiers and Apthorpe insists they conform to Halberdier discipline and procedure, which leads to a long and increasingly embittered feud with their commanding officer, Dunn, which eventually escalates up to commanding officer level. Although he has been promoted. Apthorpe is acquiring a reputation as an eccentric.

Apthorpe and the saga of the Thunder-Box

One of Apthorpe’s eccentricities has been carrying round an enormous amount of lumber and ‘kit’ and ‘gear’ with him which he insists was vital to his much-mentioned but obscure ‘time in Africa’. ‘Somewhere among these possessions lay something rare and mysterious which Apthorpe spoke of as his “Bush Thunder-box”.’

This develops into the book’s best-known comic sequence, the kind of extended comic digression which characterised the best of his 1930s comic novels, reminiscent of Basil Seal’s scams in Put Out More Flags. The thunder-box is a beautifully made Edwardian chemical toilet, a cube of solid wood, which opens to reveal a porcelain seat and bowl. But why? asks Guy: there are toilets just down the hallway. ‘The clap old chap,’ Apthrope confidently explains. ‘A chap can never be too careful.’ So Guy watches Apthorpe surreptitiously, one evening, when the other chaps are in the game room, haul this big box out of the general lumber room and drag it across the prep school playing fields into a little games storeroom hidden among the bushes. For a couple of days Apthorpse disappears for ten minutes at a time and only Guy knows where he’s going.

However, disaster strikes when one evening Apthorpe encounters fearsome Brigadier Ritchie-Hooke exiting the clump of bushes which conceal his secret. Both are forced to salute each other but very uneasily. Apthorpe tells Guy the terrible news but worse is to follow. Next day Apthorpe goes for his daily evacuation and is horrified to see a sign pinned on the little outhouse saying the place is out of bounds to everyone below the rank of brigadier.

Apthorpe anxiously discusses the situation with Guy and ropes him into moving the dread device. So one evening they sneak down to the outhouse and manhandle it some distance away to another hiding place, returning very satisfied with their work. A few evenings later Apthorpe makes his usual excuses and slips off and a few minutes later Guy hears a muffled explosion. He knows at once what it is, and sets off running across the playing fields and into the bushes. He discovers a dazed Apthorpe sprawled on his face a few yards from the thunder-box which is now a splintered smoking wreck. Ritchie-Hook, in one of his famous practical jokes, had rigged the thing with a small explosive device.

The sequence of events themselves are fairly funny, but what turns it into award-winning farce is the tremendous seriousness with which Apthorpe takes it all, and the completely straight-faced way Guy plays along with him.

Penkirk

The regiment is moved to Penkirk not far from Edinburgh in a camp of tents. A castle is nearby. Here Apthorpe’s eccentricities continue to flourish. It is here that he commences his long-running vendetta against the officer in the Signalling regiment.

It is here that the first division of commands is given and Guy is bitter to be given only a platoon while Apthorpe is promoted above him. Only later does a friendly superior explain this is because Apthorpe is actually fingered for promotion into purely administrative positions whereas the Brigadier doesn’t want anyone in command of actual fighting units who hasn’t started out with experience of commanding a platoon. That cheers him up a bit.

A new commander is assigned, one Hayter, who Guy comes to dislike. There is a great deal about relations between the new officers of his rank and the complex array of commanding officers who come and go as the regiment is restructured and reorganised.

There is a long sequence which Waugh cleverly arranges around the one hundred and forty-three questions in the Army Training Memorandum No. 31 War. April 1940 which all the officers receive and are ordered to complete.

On 10 May 1940 Winston Churchill became Prime Minister, replacing the hapless Neville Chamberlain. It is worth lingering over what Waugh, or at least his character Guy, thinks of him:

Guy knew of Mr. Churchill only as a professional politician, a master of sham-Augustan prose, a Zionist, an advocate of the Popular Front in Europe, an associate of the press-lords and of Lloyd George.

He thinks he’ll be better than the other chap. But this is a novel and another character, Major Erskine, who, in the dim-witted nature of these characters is thought to be ‘brainy’ because he reads novels and is a bit scruffy, this Erskine is made to say, prophetically:

‘Churchill is about the only man who may save us from losing this war.’

The difference between history and novels is in novels opinions, ideas, perspectives are distributed among different characters for dramatic effect. Might be worth also quoting the place where Waugh gives his clearest explanation of Guy’s motive for fighting, for taking part in this war:

[Guy] was a good loser, but he did not believe his country would lose this war; each apparent defeat seemed strangely to sustain it. There was in Romance great virtue in unequal odds. There were in morals two requisites for a lawful war, a just cause and the chance of victory. The cause was now, past all question, just. The enemy was exorbitant. His actions in Austria and Bohemia had been defensible. There was even a shadow of plausibility in his quarrel with Poland. But now, however victorious, he was an outlaw. And the more victorious he was the more he drew to himself the enmity of the world and the punishment of God.

Note the complete absence of political analysis. Waugh doesn’t, for example declare his protagonist an enemy of fascism or Nazism (in fact, having lived in Italy for most of the 1930s, Guy has a relaxed attitude to the reality of Italian fascism on the ground). Certainly not in the way that English left-wing or liberal thinkers thought of Nazism as unambiguously evil and a threat to all notions of freedom. Guy just seems to think that in invading Poland, Nazi Germany has gone a bit too far. And then this phrase ‘the enmity of God.’ Is Waugh serious? Well, his character probably is. Guy is a devout and in many ways simple Catholic, with a simple sense of right and wrong.

The flap

All this is taking place in the spring and early summer of 1940 which saw, in the wider world of war, the Russian invasion of Finland and the German invasion of Norway, this latter prompting a badly organised and chaotic British attempt to land troops and hold the German advance. (Waugh’s earlier novel, Put Out More Flags, includes towards the end a passage describing the ill-fated involvement of one of the characters, Cedric Lyne, in this badly organised fiasco.) And then, of course, the evacuation of Dunkirk, 26 May to 4 June 1940.

All kinds of rumour reach our chaps and this is a useful social history aspect of the novel, what makes it more than history, that it doesn’t record what happened, but what educated people of the time thought was happening and was going to happen.

Aldershot

So they’re sent to Aldershot in Surrey, with some description of the surrounding sandy heathland. Apthorpe distinguishes himself again by, the second he’s put in charge when the commander in chief is briefly absent, causing a great panic when he claims he has reports of German paratroopers landing.

Maps of Calais are issued as if they’re going to be shipped across to fight there, the officers memorise them, discuss lines of defence and so on. Guy’s platoon is dominated by the impressive figure of Company Sergeant Major Rawkes. Guy leads his men on a training exercise on the big barren heathland, everyone gets lost, some men go absent without leave, no-one knows what is going on, rumours fly in all directions.

Tony

Guy receives two letters from his father, the first one (2 June 1940) lamenting that his nephew, Tony, appears to be missing presumed killed in France, the second one (12 June 1940) with the reassuring news that he is in fact a prisoner of war, but the doleful commentary that a) it was shameful that his regiment surrendered to the Germans, but they were ordered to and b) it is likely to be a long war and so a shame that such a fine fellow is going to spend the best years of his young manhood behind bars. He receives both letters on the day the Germans march into Paris, 14 June 1940.

The world has shifted on its axis. Nobody expected France to fall at all, and certainly not so quickly. Now Britain really is alone. Churchill gave his ‘we shall fight them on the beaches’ speech on 4 June 1940.

North Cornwall

The regiment is moved to Cornwall. Waugh details the boredom of hanging round not knowing what the future holds. There are wild rumours that the Germans are about to take Limerick in Ireland and the Halberdiers are about to be shipped over to defend it. Much studying maps of Limerick. Nothing happens. The officers have to cook up ways to keep the men entertained, lectures (Guy gives a well received one about wine making, knowledge he gained in Italy). Football. Evening games of bingo which, surprisingly, Brigadier Ritchie-Hooke recommends and calls ‘housey-housey’.

Extraneous figures came to add to the congestion. An odd, old captain like a cockatoo in the gaudy service-dress of a defunct regiment of Irish cavalry. He said he was the cipher officer and was roped in to lecture on ‘Court Life at St. Petersburg’.

Seen from Waugh’s perspective, army life is one surreal and farcical event after another. This is what makes the books so supremely readable and enjoyable, the tone of quiet humour which suffuses them, occasionally rising to moments of supreme farce.

South Cornwall

Then they are ordered to pack up everything and shunted on a series of trains across to the South Cornwall coast where they are ordered to guard several miles of heavily barbed wired beach. Top brass come for an inspection and one of the intelligence officers goes out of his way to emphasise the risk of fifth columnists, a concept and phrase which had only recently been coined, by General Franco during the Spanish Civil War.

This leads to an incident when Guy has a touch of the Apthorpes and reacts with paranoia when two officers turn up at his HQ (a requisitioned hotel) claiming to be from A Company, the 5th Loamshires. Guy suspects them of being fifth columnists, is impressed by their accurate seeming papers and posh English accents, but nevertheless instructs the sergeant major to take over the bren gun next on the clifftop and cover the pair as they’re taken down for a dip in the sea by a soldier he deputes for the job. If they make one funny move, the sergeant major is to shoot them. The dismay of Sergeant Major Rawkes who had, until this moment, thought Guy wasn’t too bad, for an officer, is very funny.

Brook Park

They’re ordered to pack up yet again and entrain for Brook Park in Surrey. Here occurs an event which the sardonic and witty fellow officer, de Souza, nicknames ‘the Languishing of Leonard’. Early on we had met officer Leonard’s wife, Daisy, who is distinctly not the right class, who drops her aitches and speaks out of turn at dinners or drinks for the regimental officers. She has followed her man from base to base, taking hotel rooms and now announces that she is pregnant. She kicks up an immense fuss and wants Leonard seconded to a safe domestic posting so he can be with her. Very sheepishly Leonard falls in line with her demands, secures his posting, from which point onwards the Adjutant, or acting head of the regiment, requests that his name never be mentioned again. Shame.

Liverpool

Next thing they know they are given two days leave (Guy goes to visit his father and finds him, of course, knee deep in the classics text he’s teaching the little chaps at the evacuated prep school) before returning to barracks at which point the entire regiment is packed up and sent to Liverpool.

After the usual chaos, embarking, disembarking and so on, they finally set sail to the Bay of Biscay, are joined by a fleet and sail on to the coast of Africa, near Dakar, to be precise (capital of what is now Senegal).

Here the fleet moors and numerous high level meetings are held. Initially Brigadier Ritchie-Hook is excited because they are finally going to get to land and biff the enemy. But this turns to bitter frustration when the raid is called off. The ordinary soldiers celebrate but Guy is called to a meeting of senior officers, namely the Brigadier, Colonel Tickeridge and the ship’s captain.

The beach raid in Africa

Ritchie-Hooke is furious that the raid has been called off because naval intelligence has some aerial photos of the beaches which could be interpreted to indicate that they’re criss-crossed with wire. But in this little meeting he is gleeful because he and Tickeridge have persuaded the captain of the ship to let them send a tiny little landing party to ascertain whether this is true. And Guy is to lead it.

He is told to go and choose a dozen men who will be taken aboard a launch by a navy captain, shuttled ashore under cover of darkness, faces blacked, carrying minimal equipment. Their mission is to ascertain the existence or not of ‘wire’ and capture a souvenir, a coconut, say, as proof of their trip.

The atmosphere of tense excitement is beautifully conveyed. There’s a beautiful little description as Guy and his men wait in the hold for the little sally-port, or door low down in the side of the ship, to be opened so they can climb a short distance down a rope ladder into the launch:

The lights were all turned off in the hold before the sally-port was opened by one of the crew. It revealed a faintly lighter square and a steamy breath of the sea.

Well, to be brief, they chug onto the beach, slip over the side and wade through the warm water, tiptoe up the ashore and do, indeed, find wire, rows of wire amateurishly strung across it. Then sounds and someone starts firing and then lots of guns start firing. Guy blows his whistle for general retreat but one of his chaps goes haring forward into the darkness. The rest return to the boat unharmed and the sailor captaining it reports everyone present and correct but Guy knows he saw someone else and goes back to check.

Just as well he did, for he discovers one of his men crawling back through the dunes, wounded in the leg. Guy curses, runs forward, supports him arm over shoulder back to the launch, heaves him in and the launch turns and putters back to the ship. As he helps him Guy realises this disobedient man is none other than… Ben Ritchie-Hook. Not only that, but after he is manhandled into the launch he slips into Guy’s lap the object he’s been hugging close all this time. It is the severed head of an African soldier.

The ‘gruesome’ in Waugh

What to make of this? It is at the same time farcical, comic and gruesome. But readers will remember this is the sometimes puzzlingly extreme tone he takes in many of his books. It is as if part of his approach to humour is to occasionally crank it up to broad farce, and then sometimes to take farce way over the top into The Gruesome.

It’s easy to forget that in his very first novel, Decline and Fall, when the young innocent Paul Pennyfeather finds himself in prison, he discovers that the padre is none other than one of his teachers at the crappy private school he taught at in Wales, Prendergast, who has retrained as a chaplain, and how the prison governor with his fancy ideas, decides it is a good thing to try and reform one of their most notorious prisoners by allowing him to express himself in the carpentry shop – and how this prisoner takes the first opportunity to saw off the padre’s head.

Ritchie-Hooke later explains that the man raised his gun at him so Ritchie chucked a grenade which blew him to bits, one of the bits of which was the head (which he proceeded to ‘trim’ a bit). The beheading of the African is no more offensive than the decapitation of Prendergast i.e. a bit offensive against good taste and restraint. What definitely is offensive is the way Ritchie-Hook refers to the head as his ‘coconut’ and so does everyone else concerned during the incident’s repercussions.

The repercussions are that Ritchie-Hooke has gone too far this time and is recalled to London for a bollocking and possibly the end of his military career. Guy was only obeying direct orders but finds himself also condemned to have a black mark against him.

Freetown

Having abandoned the attack on Dakar the allied fleet sails on to Freetown, the port capital of Sierra Leone (a British colony which remained secure during the war). Damaged ships turn back. The two ships carrying the Halberdiers dock and they go ashore.

There is a new brigadier. He calls Guy in, tells him that during the journey he was promoted captain but that, in light of his involvement in the Dakar fiasco, he has been demoted again. He is to be recalled to London. He will be flown there along with Ritchie-Hooke as soon as the latter is fit enough to travel.

Here in Freetown he makes his second mistake. Apthorpe took the opportunity of leave to go up country. Now word comes back that he is ill. In fact he has been brought back by native bearers in a Victorian style ‘sheeted hammock’ and deposited in hospital.

The brigade major gives Guy permission to visit Apthorpe and recommends he take a bottle of whiskey along, it’s always a nice gesture, though strictly speaking advised against. Guy does so and has a long rambling encounter with Apthorpe who is genuinely ill. Guy slips the whiskey under his bedclothes. A nurse coming in smells it on their breath and says the doctor has forbidden it but Guy lies and says he just gave Apthorpe a nip from his flask.

During this interview Apthorpe, in his comically earnest and tragic way, entrusts Guy with a last wish, which is to ensure that he (Guy) hands over Apthorpe’s legendary pile of kit and equipment to his old friend ‘Chatty’ Corner (who we met earlier in the book when he attended one of the regimental drinks parties). Guy promises and leaves.

A few days later the brigade major calls him in to tell him that Althorpe is dead. Drank the whole bottle of whiskey in a day. Guy is shocked but then more shocked to learn that he is being blamed. The brigade major was the one who suggested the idea, but now holds him responsible.

(Throughout Apthorpe’s dying scenes there is another thread of Waugh’s irrepressible cheeky comedy, which is that Apthorpe solemnly assures him that when he told him, all the way back at the start of the book, that he had two aunts, he was, in fact, fibbing: he only has one. Guy accepts this deathbed confession with a straight face. But this misconception, that Apthorpe had two aunts who will grieve his loss, is then repeated by every other officer and official involved in the case, adding a wonderful thread of humour to counterpoint the rather grim fact of his actual death.

Again, as in the story of the decapitated African, grim death is inextricably intertwined with farce. It is a conscious policy.

So anyway, now Guy has two black marks against him. A flying boat lands in the harbour. It is to take him and Ritchie-Hook back to London and at this point the novel ends.

Cutaway ending

Except that, as Guy flies back to Blighty and an uncertain future, Waugh uses his characteristic technique of cutting away from the protagonist to have him and his plight be discussed by people at some distance from the action who, therefore, treat it with the levity and half attention we all give to gossip about people we half know or have vaguely heard of. It is a home counties version of the Alienation Effect. It is half humorous, half-despairing. It is the way human life is, never really understood, immediately transformed into gossip, all our lives, ultimately, dust. Sarum-Smith and de Souza attend the funeral of Apthorpe, laid to rest in the English cemetery in Freetown, and then remark on the fact that both of the oldest ‘new’ officers, the ones they nicknamed ‘uncle’, have left on the same day (one being buried, the other flying home under a cloud):

‘Both Uncles gone the same day.’
‘Funny, I was thinking the same. I rather preferred Crouchback on the whole.’
‘He seemed a nice enough fellow. I could never quite make him out. Pity he made an ass of himself.’
Already the Second Battalion of the Halberdiers spoke of Guy in the past tense. He had momentarily been of them; now he was an alien; someone in their long and varied past, but forgotten.

The old truth: life is intense tragedy to the person living it, but comedy to everyone else.


Waugh’s worldview

Snobbery

Only members of his class count. The narrator is scornful of anyone outside his circle and its very limited extension into the narrow circle of People Like Us.

The vulgar middle class

Throughout his works Waugh is snooty about people who make a living through trade, shopkeepers, merchants, and what you might call the lower professions, accountants and the like. Thinking about the professions, the very big gap in his oeuvre is the legal profession. If you think about Dickens, his works are full of lawyers and legal cases. None in Waugh. The central profession is, in the 1930s comedies, journalism and, in the novels from Put Out More Flags, the army.

The working classes

The working class is invisible except for servants, publicans, waiters and waitresses (in civilian life) and batmen, valets, servants and drivers (in the army). Oh and the actual soldiers, the common soldier, the private. Almost none of these are mentioned and none are named. When Guy takes his little troupe ashore at Dakar the sergeant has a name but none of the men. They are anonymous extras.

But what interests me is not Waugh’s snobbish, privileged, entitled elitism, as such. It’s more to do with the way that, operating within this closed, super-narrow, elite worldview – the upper class, private school and Oxbridge, country house and the-old-regiment kind of world, bolstered by the exclusiveness and elitism of his upper-class Catholic faith – enables his discourse, allows the texts to be written. A writer can’t write about the entire world; you have to pick a subject. Waugh isn’t trying to describe the great shambling chaos of the modern world. His bright, alert, highly regimented, policed and orderly world is the unshakeable foundation which allows him to create these comic, satirical and, occasionally, devastating fictions.

The elitism is as much a genre as a worldview, with its own customs and conventions. If, for the purpose of reading and enjoying his books, you accept this worldview, then the interest moves on from anatomising the worldview itself, to enjoying the way Waugh subverts, bends and occasionally breaks it.

Private schools and prep schools

Authors of his generation just can’t get away from memories of their childhood prep schools and boyhood private schools. They make endless comparisons to them, something reminds them of this or that at prep or public school, somehow prep schools are always cropping up as actual items: thus the location of training in Southsea is a requisitioned prep school and Mr Crouchback finds a private school evacuating to near his hotel and is invited to become a teacher, a Classics teacher, of course. I wasn’t at all surprised when (in the third book in the trilogy) de Souza tells Guy:

‘All army courses are like prep schools–all that welcoming of the new boys.’ (Unconditional Surrender, page 97)

It’s the first point of comparison for all these privately educated men.

Mental illness

I’ve mentioned it repeatedly in my reviews of Waugh’s novels, but a surprising number of them feature characters or passages dealing with mental illness or mental breakdown. Thus the nervous collapse of Agatha Runcible in Vile Bodies, the teetering on the brink of shocked breakdown of Tony Last in A Handful of Dust, the decline into depressed alcoholism of former High Society doyenne Angela Lyne in Put Out More Flags, the mental collapse of Sebastian in Brideshead Revisited, not one but two suicides in The Loved One. Several of his short stories are about homicidal lunatics (Mr. Loveday’s Little Outing and The Sympathetic Passenger).

In the trilogy Waugh continues his interest in several ways, at several levels. Guy’s elder brother, Ivo, has a complete collapse into psychosis and starves himself to death. Guy himself has been down enough to qualify as depressed and there are plenty of descriptions of his sense of hollowness, emptiness and futility:

He [was] himself destitute, possessed of nothing save a few dry grains of faith.

His brother-in-law, Box-Bender, frankly expects Guy to go mad at any moment, like his older brother, which doesn’t help. And then there’s something odd, ‘rum’, about the central figure, Apthorpe, mounting in eccentricity all the way through to his final collapse.

It feels like madness is constantly lurking just around the corner in any Waugh text. For the most part Waugh manages to keep the lid on it, contain it, and express it in socially acceptable form as a sense of the ludicrous or the farcical. But sometimes, pop! madness or despair emerge into the open.

Influence of film

1. As I’ve pointed out in other reviews, the film technique of quick cutting between scenes is something Waugh absorbed and used to great effect, most notably in an early novel like Vile Bodies but more subtly throughout all his fictions. He is still using it liberally throughout the trilogy, which often features sequences of 2 or 3-page scenes, moving quickly from one setting to another.

2. At moments, like so many of us, like so many characters in twentieth century fiction, Guy compares his behaviour to what people would do in a film and finds himself failing to live up to the Hollywood ideal of dashing masculinity.

3. And then, sometimes, he just takes the mickey out of movies, very amusingly:

Once Guy saw a film of the Rising of ’45. Prince Charles and his intimates stood on a mound of heather, making a sad little group, dressed as though for the Caledonian Ball, looking, indeed, precisely as though they were a party of despairing revellers mustered in the outer suburbs to meet a friend with a motor-car who had not turned up.

An awful moment came when the sun touched the horizon behind them. The Prince bowed his head, sheathed his claymore and said in rich Milwaukee accents: ‘I guess it’s all off, Mackingtosh.’

Influence of books

The comparing oneself with cultural ideals comes over more clearly in his comparisons with popular fiction. Early on in the book Guy recalls a story of derring-do he was read at prep school (naturally) during the Great War, and which inspired him and his friends with images of dashing heroism. The memory comes when the Brigadier addresses the men:

‘Gentlemen,’ he began, ‘to-morrow you meet the men you will lead in battle.’

It was the old, potent spell, big magic. Those two phrases, ‘the officers who will command you…’, ‘the men you will lead…’ set the junior officers precisely in their place, in the heart of the battle. For Guy they set swinging all the chimes of his boyhood’s reading…

‘…”I’ve chosen your squadron for the task, Truslove.” “Thank you, sir. What are our chances of getting through?” “It can be done, Truslove, or I shouldn’t be sending you. If anyone can do it, you can. And I can tell you this, my boy, I’d give all my seniority and all these bits of ribbon on my chest to be with you. But my duty lies here with the Regiment. Good luck to you, my boy. You’ll need it”…’

The words came back to him from a summer Sunday evening at his preparatory school, in the headmaster’s drawing-room, the three top forms sitting about on the floor, some in a dream of home, others – Guy among them – spell-bound.

This passage explains much, about ideals and identity and the centrality of his bloody private school in both of them. But it also, on a comic level, gives rise to a recurring trope which is when Guy finds himself in a tight corner and wonders what this ‘Truslove’ character from his boyhood stories would have done in his place. Thus he refers, later on, to an officer volunteering for a mission ‘Truslove style’, and ironically nicknames the farcical episode on the beach of Dakar ‘Operation Truslove’.

It is a variation on the deep central issue I’ve mentioned above, of the way so many men – well, writers, anyway – of this generation, never escaped their public school manners, morals and essentially immature, schoolboy worldview.


Credit

Men at Arms by Evelyn Waugh was published by Chapman and Hall in 1952. All references are to the 1983 Penguin paperback edition.

Related link

Evelyn Waugh reviews

A Savage War of Peace by Alistair Horne (1977)

The Algerian War was the long brutal conflict between the National Liberation Front (the Front de Libération Nationale or F.L.N.) fighting for Algerian independence from the French Empire, and the French Army tasked with repressing it.

The war lasted from 1954 to 1962. It brought down six French governments, led to the collapse of the French Fourth Republic and eventually forced General de Gaulle out of retirement to become President in 1958, solely in order to sort out a peace deal. As the violence committed by both the FLN and the army increased, as international opinion turned against the French, and as the Soviet bloc became friendlier with the Algerian revolutionaries, de Gaulle found himself reluctantly pushed towards the only logical solution – that France withdrew and granted Algeria its independence.

This was so unpopular among the 500,000 or so troops which France had by this time deployed to Algeria, and who had been fighting and dying in often inhospitable environments (the arid desert, the freezing mountains) that it prompted a military coup by the generals in Algeria. This collapsed in just four days, but the rebellion helped bring together a number of mid-ranking soldiers and psychopaths into an anti-de Gaulle, anti-independence paramilitary which called itself the Organisation armée secrète or O.A.S.

These (and other freelancers) planned and attempted some thirty (!) assassination attempts against de Gaulle as well as an escalating campaign of murder and terrorist outrages against liberal French in Algeria, against writers and thinkers in Paris (they bombed Jean-Paul Sartre’s flat and the homes of newspaper editors) as well as attacking Muslim bars, shops, schools, colleges and so on. IN February 1962 they killed over 550 people. The F.L.N. responded with their own tit-for-tat terrorist outrages. In March F.L.N. activists broke into the home of a pied noir nightwatchman, disembowelled his wife and smashed the heads of his two children, aged 5 and 6, against the wall (p.526). This book is packed with stories like that. Every day in Algiers was marked by the sound of explosions and gunfire.

Meanwhile, in the spring of 1962 secret talks began between de Gaulle’s emissaries and F.L.N. representatives at a secret location in the Swiss border. Horne’s book – brilliant in every aspect – shows how right down to the wire the F.L.N. representatives refused to budge on the purity of their demands for complete independence and control of all Algeria’s territory (shrugging aside attempts by France to hang on to her naval bases or the vast areas of the Sahara to the south of the Atlas mountains where, ironically, in the last few years of French rule vast reserves of oil and even more of natural gas had been discovered). A peace treaty granting Algeria independence was signed in March 1962.

Brutality

Official French figures tally up to about 300,000 Algerians who lost their lives in the fighting, but even more in the terrorism and as victims of the extensive intra-Muslim fighting and vendettas. The Algerian state settled on the round number of one million Muslims and sticks to it to this day.

The F.L.N. used terrorist tactics, planting bombs, using drive-by shootings and chucking hand grenades into European cafes, bars etc, but mostly they set themselves to murder Algerians who had sold out to the French authorities e.g. native village constables and local caids, cutting off noses or lips as a first warning, slitting the throats of any ‘traitors’ who remained loyal to the French regime. The French efforts became steadily more indiscriminate, arresting all political suspects in the towns, bombing entire villages and, at the scenes of brutal murders of Europeans, running wild and shooting every Muslim in sight. All of which, of course, helped recruitment to the rebels.

Both sides used torture although the F.L.N. routinely used barbaric bloodthirstiness: on August 20, 1955 about 80 guerrillas descended on the town of Philippeville and went from house to house massacring all Europeans. Mothers were found with their throats slit and their bellies cut open by bill-hooks, babies had their brains beaten out against the walls. One women had her belly cut open and the corpse of her young baby – cut to ribbons by knives – stuffed back inside her (p.121). When French paratroopers arrived on the scene some hours later they went mad and machine gunned every Muslim in sight.

In this respect F.L.N. tactics worked: the native population was terrorised into abandoning the French and giving the guerrillas help; the atrocities sparked the French into harsh reprisals which further alienated both peasant and educated opinion. The F.L.N. strategy was to militarise the conflict and the whole country, and it worked.

The advent of the O.A.S. in the final period of the war raised the levels of wanton brutality to revolting new heights, as French fanatical right-wingers launched attacks in mainland France and in Paris. The French Secret Service attempts to penetrate the O.A.S. were eventually successful in rounding up the O.A.S. leaders but, ironically, this only increased the level of murder and terrorism because the psychopathic ordinary members were now headless and unchecked.

In another level of irony (and what is history except irony written in blood), Horne shows how the O.A.S. – fighting to keep Algeria French – probably did more than any other group to ensure Algeria became independent.

Their aim was to create such chaos that it would lead to the overthrow of de Gaulle the traitor and then… and then… something good would happen (like the coup plotters, they had no grasp of politics). But their way to achieve this chaos was through random outrages, mostly against moderate and educated Muslims – and this had the effect, in the final year of the conflict, of driving a huge wedge between the communities. And this had toe effect of destroying forever any hope that the pieds noirs would be able to live side-by-side in harmony with their Muslim neighbours.

Divisions on both sides

War suggests two monolithic sides, but in fact both ‘sides’ were deeply divided and riven by factions. Ever since the French Revolution back in the 1790s, the French political nation has been bitterly divided between a revolutionary Left and an authoritarian Catholic Right, with all kinds of ineffective liberals ranged in between. After the Second World War, France also had to contend with a large and powerful Stalinist Communist Party. This contributed to the chronic problem with French politics – its instability: there were no fewer than 21 different governments between 1945 and 1958! It was, thus, very difficult for ‘the French’ to formulate and stick to one policy.

On the other side, Horne explains the political situation at the start of the war among the Algerians: there was a communist party, a Muslim fundamentalist party, and a Liberal party representing the so-called évolués i.e. educated Algerians who were progressing along the state-approved path towards full ‘French-hood’.

All of these found themselves outflanked and outmoded by the violence and determination of the F.L.N. But there were also big divisions ethnically and culturally among the Algerians, and within the F.L.N. itself. For a start there were gulfs between the minority of urban, educated, literate Algerians and the majority of the nine million population which were illiterate peasants. Also between ethnic groups in Algeria, for a large percentage of the population were (and are) Kabyle, descended from the original Berber tribal occupants of the country who had their own language, culture and traditions and not all of whom were Muslim. Horne shows how the Kabyle-Arab divide was a permanent problem of the F.L.N. leadership and on the ground led to some appalling massacres perpetrated by each side.

A glaring example was the Massacre of Melouza, in late May early June, 1957, when FLN rebels massacred 300 Muslim inhabitants of the Melouza village because they supported the rival rebel group M.N.A. To be precise the F.L.N. rounded up every male over the age of fifteen, herded them into houses and the mosque and slaughtered them like animals with rifles, pick axes and knives (p.221).

There was also a long-burning division between the ‘insiders’, who stayed in the country to lead the armed struggle, and a cohort of ‘outsiders’ who a) acted as ambassadors, seeking political and financial support from other Arab states – especially Nasser’s nationalist Egypt and b) worked tirelessly at the United Nations in New York to lobby the Cold War blocs and the rising non-aligned movement to support the struggle.

As in every other aspect of this masterful book, Horne gives a thorough and insightful account of the changing personnel, changing relationships and evolving success of each of these factions.

Obstacles to a settlement

The successive French governments had a dual prong strategy: to completely suppress the armed revolt through military means, while simultaneously implementing ‘reforms’ to try and win over the majority of the population. These were stymied for a number of reasons.

  1. Too little, too late The government sent Liberal Jacques Soustelle as Governor-General of Algeria in 1955 to devise a reform package. He introduced the concept of ‘integration’, not altogether easy to distinguish from the previous policy of ‘assimilation’. He aimed to improve the crushing poverty and unemployment in which most rural Algerians lived. He declared he would make Arabic an obligatory language in Muslim schools, train peasants in modern agriculture, eliminate inequities in education alongside the creation of other public works. But the rebellion had already started and, as atrocity followed atrocity, Soustelle found his rational, sensible plans becoming irrelevant in the sea of blood.
  2. The pieds noirs Pieds noirs is French for ‘black feet’. It’s a slang expression the metropolitan (or mainland) French invented for the French who had settled in Algeria. In actual fact, a large proportion of the European settlers in Algeria were from Italy, Spain and other countries. But they all thought of themselves as 100% French and were led by some powerful men who owned huge businesses, rich from shipping, agriculture, vineyards, housing and so on. There were nearly a million pieds noirs and they dominated the Algerian Assembly. In theory Muslims could be elected to this, but in practice, through a system of double elections designed to prevent Muslims being elected, only a small number of Algerians were representatives, despite the natives outnumbering the settlers by about 9 to 1. Anyway, unlike the French government and Liberal opinion, pieds noirs sentiment was solid and consistent: it was anti any kind of further power or representation for Algerians, it wanted the war pursued with maximum aggression, it was against independence in any shape or form. Early on it held riots against ministers sent over from France and realised that it, too, could mobilise the street and threaten violence to foil any attempts at concession.
  3. Algeria was French The strangest element, the most fateful, tragic aspect of the whole bloody tragedy, was that the French government of 1848 made the fateful declaration that Algeria was an integral part of France, as much a part as Brittany or the Dordogne. At least Morocco and Tunisia to the west and east of it had only been French protectorates and so they could, relatively easily, be given their independence – both in 1956. (An unintended consequence was that F.L.N. fighters could use both countries as refuges and arms bases.) But French politicians were lumbered with the fateful situation that Algeria was legally – and all the pieds noirs took this absolutely literally – part of France and so could not be given independence because it was not legally or culturally perceived as a separate entity.

Thus for the French it was not a question of granting a colony independence: it was a case of losing part of France itself. This, to any outsider, is quite obviously insane and part of the experience of reading this long book is to be soaked in the ongoing insanity of the entire French political class. Looked at in this way, the F.L.N. struggle can be seen as the brutal attempt to make the French realise and admit that Algeria was a nation in its own right.

Indo-China and Algeria – one long war

If the year 1954 rings a bell it’s because that was the year the French Army lost the Battle of Dien Bien Phu and, as a result, began to withdraw from Vietnam (see my reviews of two classics on the subject, The Last Valley by Martin Windrow  and Embers of War by Frederik Logevall). The massive French base at Dien Bien Phu was overrun in May 1954 and the rebellion in Algeria began in November 1954. In fact Horne shows that the founding meeting of the umbrella group of revolutionary parties that formed the F.L.N. actually took place on the very day that news of Dien Bien Phu reached Algeria. Many of the same military units who had just been repatriated from Vietnam found themselves being sent on to North Africa to fight another insurgency.

Thus, although on opposite sides of the globe, the wars in Indochina and in Algeria can be seen as aspects of the same struggle of native peoples to free themselves from French rule. Taken together they meant that France was engaged in serious colonial wars from 1945 to 1962. Long time, isn’t it? A long time that it could have been devoting its money and energy to rebuilding its war-torn society back home. And, if it had agreed negotiated independence for both countries, how many lives would have been saved, and what a good reputation France would have enjoyed within those countries and around the world. It makes Britain’s withdrawal from India and Pakistan, though flawed, look like the wisdom of Solomon.

The French military record

In the 1950s the French Army had to look back 150 years, to the heyday of Napoleon, to be really sure of major military victories which they won by themselves.

Napoleon’s army had been finally, definitively, defeated at Waterloo in 1815. The conquest of Third World Algeria began promisingly in 1830, but the French faced stiffer opposition than they expected and the conquest dragged on for over 15 years. It’s true the French won the Crimean War (1853-56) but only  in alliance with the British, only just, and only after establishing a reputation for caution and delay and after losing huge numbers of troops to illness. A few years later the military suffered a humiliation when their attempt to install a Francophone Emperor in Mexico failed and the puppet Emperor was executed in 1867.

But none of this compared with the seismically crushing military defeat in the Franco-Prussian War of 1870. After the Prussians had finished occupying and looting Paris, the city descended into a super-violent civil war as leftists declared a Commune and the French Army was sent in to defeat and annihilate them. The military defeat of the war and the deployment of Frenchmen to kill Frenchmen left a poisonous legacy which lasted a generation.

A generation later the French Army was the epicentre of the Dreyfus Affair which from 1894 to 1906 tore the country (again) into violently opposing factions either supporting or reviling a certain Captain Dreyfus, who was (wrongly) alleged to have sold military secrets to the Prussians. When he was, finally, exonerated, almost the entire army hierarchy looked like frauds and incompetents.

The French would have lost the Great War if the British Expeditionary Force had not helped to hold the line on the Marne in 1914. After three years of butchery, in 1917 the French Army was dishonoured to suffer widespread mutinies (the British didn’t).

Between the wars France was so divided that many thought the street riots which erupted across Paris in 1934 were the beginning of a civil war. The profound divisions between left, right and liberals encouraged the spirit of wholesale defeatism which led to the speedy French capitulation against invading Nazi Germany in 1940 (‘better the Germans than the reds’, was the cry of conservatives across the country).

France was finally liberated in 1945, with a large contribution from the British but mainly from the overwhelming might of the Americans, scores of thousands of whom died to liberate la patrie. Immediately, the French roared back into arrogant World Power mode and, in Indo-China, instead of taking Vietnamese nationalists seriously, spurned all talks and decided to beat them militarily (the tragic story so brilliantly told in Frederick Logevall’s Embers of War) to restore France’s gloire and grandeur and prestige around the world (it is telling that even in English, we use French words for these ideas).

The eight-year struggle to hang on to Indo-China climaxed in the international humiliation of defeat at Dien Bien Phu, when the French army’s heavily-defended citadel was crushed by the third world army of General Giap, leading the French Army and civilian administration to pack up and leave Vietnam.

(Some of the many, many soldiers, statesmen, civilians and eye witnesses quoted in this long book start the long track of France’s humiliations earlier, with the massive failure of the Seven Years War back in the 1760s, in which King Louis XV’s lack of financial and military commitment led the French to lose both Canada and India to the British Empire. Reflecting on this during the days it took to read this book, a simpler theory came to mind: in the Seven Years War Louis sacrificed the foreign colonies because his main focus was on maintaining France as the pre-eminent military power on the Continent, as his father had and as Napoleon would do. If we take this as the central aim of French foreign policy – to maintain French pre-eminence on the continent – then it was doomed to failure when it met the unstoppable rise of Prussia and Germany from the 1850s onwards. It took three bitter wars between the nations – in 1870, 1914 and 1940 – to prove beyond any doubt that Germany was (and remains) the top power in Europe. So a) France had wasted all those years, men and money in a project which turned out to be futile – while b) all the time their bitter rivals the British were by and large ignoring continental squabbles to focus on expanding their vast maritime empire).

Thus, at their elite academies (e.g. the famous École spéciale militaire de Saint-Cyr) each new generation of French officers was brought up on an unremitting diet of gloire and grandeur but had, embarrassingly, to look all the way back to the great battles of Napoleon 150 years earlier, to find the last real military victories, the last time the French had really won anything. The French were very aware that in the Great War (arguably) and in the Second War (definitely) its success was on the coat tails of the British and the Americans.

This long history of defeat and humiliation helps to explain the special bitterness and acrimoniousness of France’s relations with her colonies post-1945. She didn’t want to be humiliated yet again. According to the French historian, Raymond Aron:

that deep ingrained sense of past humiliations had to be exorcised. (p.331)

And yet, with bleak irony, it was the very doggedness with which she hung on in Indo-China and in Algeria that ended up guaranteeing the political and military humiliations she was striving so hard to avoid.

It’s important to grasp this sense of inferiority and grievance and bloody determination because it helps to explain the fundamental irrationality of the French military ending up declaring war on their own government, trying to assassinate the French head of state, taking France to the brink of civil war, and why a hard core of ‘ultras’ formed the O.A.S. which set out on a policy of murdering their fellow Frenchmen.

Suez

Horne pithily calls the Suez invasion ‘the shortest war in history and possibly the silliest’. (p.163). I hadn’t previously understood its connection with Algeria. The French were convinced that Nasser (leader of Egypt) was supplying the F.L.N. with arms and munitions (they and everyone else were given that impression by the fiery pan-Arab messages coming over on Radio Cairo). In fact, Nasser and the other Arabs were notably unhelpful in the early part of the war, refusing to supply the rebels anything – but the French didn’t know that. Thus when Nasser nationalised the Suez Canal in 1956 – two years into the Algerian crisis – the French seized the opportunity to strike a blow against the (supposed) supplier of their enemy in Algeria. The Israelis already wanted to strike a blow against the strongest Arab state and both countries leaned on the British to get involved.

The Suez Crisis is remembered because only a day or so into the joint Israeli-French-British assault on the canal zone the Russians began to make loud warning noises and President Eisenhower threatened to ruin the British economy by selling the U.S. government’s sterling bonds unless the Brits desisted. British forces were stopped in their tracks and British political leaders, the army, informed public opinion, all realised – with a never-to-be-forgotten jolt – that it marked the end of Britain’s role as a Global Power.

Growing up in the 1970s and 80s my generation accepted all of this as a given and now, 60 years later, it seems like ancient history. But it is just one more of the many insights this wonderful book throws up, to revisit it from the Algerian perspective.

Scale

The Algerian War is important in its own right, as the largest and bloodiest of all decolonising wars. You occasionally read about:

  • Britain’s heavy-handed response to the Mau Mau rebellion in Kenya, but that eight-year conflict resulted in some 12,000 Kenyan dead (mostly killed by fellow Kenyans) and only 200 settlers dead.
  • The Malayan Emergency, when Chinese communists led an insurgency against British imperial forces over a 12-year period from 1948 to 1960, led to a total of about 2,000 Malay and British police and army killed, and some 6,000 communist insurgents dead.
  • The crisis in British-held Cyprus in the later 1950s which resulted in some 600 dead.

Together with other small conflicts, these ’emergencies’ and insurgencies routinely appeared on the front pages British newspapers during the 1950s, but they are quoted here to compare and contrast with the awesome scale and enormous casualties and the huge political turmoil of the Algerian War. It was a completely different order of magnitude and the sheer number of bombings and atrocities is impossible to imagine. In some months there were over 1,000 incidents, over thirty every day. At the peak of O.A.S. activities they would set off 20 or 30 plastic explosive devices every day. In all, the French authorities recorded some 42,090 acts of terrorism.

Horne’s book is long and immaculately detailed, giving a riveting military history of the entire conflict, peppered with accounts of just enough of the atrocities to make you feel continually sick, and tense at the scale of what was at stake. It is like one of the most gripping novels ever written.

Long-term

The Algerian War turned out to be a testing ground for the kind of urban terrorism which has become so common in the 21st century, a pioneer of the strategy of attacking ‘soft’ civilian targets – nightclubs and pop concerts – in order to militarise and polarise society: the worse the atrocity, the greater the success in creating the battle lines.

The only response to this kind of terrorism-to-divide is not to rise to the bait and not to let society become polarised. But the best way to prevent it is not to allow injustice and grievance to build up to such a pitch in the first place, by giving all parts of society a voice, a say, and by having mechanisms through which to confront and solve grievances.

The war was also a template for the kind of asymmetric warfare in a Muslim country between a Western-style army and irregular militia and terrorist units, which has also become common in the 21st century – Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria. The cover has a blurb from Thomas E. Ricks, author of Fiasco – the damning account of America’s 2003 invasion of Iraq – which says this book has become compulsory reading for all U.S. military officers and counterinsurgency specialists, and Horne himself draws direct parallels with the Iraq invasion in his preface to the 2006 edition.

The war was such a long and convoluted conflict, with so many aspects, that it also contains examples of a whole range of political problems. In fact, it could almost be read as a sort of compendium of classic problems of statecraft.

  • How not to colonise a country and how not to ruinously hang on to it long after the time to go has come.
  • How not to stage a military coup, something the generals in fact attempted twice, failing both times.
  • How to return to a divided nation as a saviour, how to be all things to all men, and then how to steer a perilous course through violently opposing factions – as de Gaulle did.
  • How not to try and assassinate a head of state.
  • How to penetrate urban guerrilla organisations – Horne’s account of how the French penetrated the undercover F.L.N. network during the Battle of Algiers is brilliant.
  • Just as insightful, and impressive, is the account of how General Maurice Challe in 1959 instituted a whole new method to tackle attacks by smallish groups in remote desert areas – by using radio to call in helicopters carrying reinforcements to surround the armed bands, and by not giving up the chase or hunt until each one had been exterminated. Challe’s approach was showing real results, clearing entire areas of nationalists and reducing attacks, when his operation was overtaken by political developments and he was replaced by a general who never completed the process.
  • Building a wall. Like the Israelis were later to do, and Donald Trump threatens to do in our time, the French built a wall against their enemies. In their case it was an electrified fence stretching along 320 kilometres of Algeria’s border with Tunisia, the so-called Morice Line, because Tunisia in particular was a major bolthole for F.L.N. operatives, guns and money. The Morice Line formed a barbed-wire barrier lined with minefields and a sophisticated alarm system which alerted rapid response units to attempts to breach it, and who could be quickly helicoptered to the breach to intercept and kill F.L.N. fighters.
  • Urban uprisings. Both the pieds noirs and the Muslims staged mass uprisings in Algiers. The French one, starting in January 1960, was called ‘the week of barricades. Horne even-handedly shows how the pieds noirs students and activists organised it, and how the authorities tried to handle it.

There is just a whole host of war-related conflict and public order disturbances throughout the book. Not only Western armies but police forces could probably learn something about managing civil disturbance, disobedience and violent crowds.

Mass migration

The peace was signed with little agreement about the future of the pieds noirs. Seeing themselves as sold down the river, abandoned by their fatherland, and terrified of the reprisals in store once an F.L.N. government took over, the result was panic and a mass movement of people on a scale not seen since the end of the Second World War.

Over a million pieds noirs fled Algeria in a matter of weeks! There were many heart-breaking and panic-stricken scenes which Horne describes. Because of the demand on ships and planes, the pieds noirs were only allowed to take two suitcases of belongings with them. So they made bonfires of all their other goods, mementoes and belongings, then left their homes, which had often been the homes to families for many generations, abandoned to their new Arab owners. The refugees arrived in a France which was completely unprepared for them and which struggled to find homes and schools and jobs for them for many years to come.

Much worse, though, was the fate of the harkis, the native Muslims who had collaborated with the French Army and administration. Up to a quarter of a million Algerians worked with the French army, the ones who came under actual army discipline being called harkis. One of the (just) grievances of senior army figures was that the fate of the harkis wasn’t even addressed in the peace negotiations. Only about 15,000 managed to escape to France. The rest, over 200,000, were, in effect, left to the mercies of the F.L.N. which means that very many of thyem were tortured and murdered.

No-one knows for sure how many of these collaborators were murdered in the months that followed the French withdrawal in July 1962, but Horne quotes a few of the horror stories which later emerged. Hundreds were used to clear the minefields along the Morice Line by being forced to walk through them and get blown up. Many were tortured before being killed.

Army veterans were made to dig their own tombs, then swallow their decorations before being killed; they were burned alive, or castrated, or dragged behind trucks, or cut top pieces their flesh fed to the dogs. Many were out to death with their entire families, including young children. (p.537)

In some barracks French officers were ordered to take away the harki‘s weapons, promising them replacements, but then departing the next day, leaving the harkis completely unarmed and defenceless. Some French soldiers were ordered to stand impassively by while harkis were killed in front of them. As you’d expect, many French officers disobeyed orders and smuggled their Muslim comrades abroad, but nowhere near enough.

This book is absolutely packed with situations like this, cruel ironies of war and defeat, atrocities, torture and murder. 600 pages of horror – but reading it gives you an important – a vital – insight into contemporary France, into contemporary Algeria, and into contemporary conflicts between the West and Islam.

A Savage War of Peace

Sir Alistair Horne’s account was first published in 1977 and has long held the field as the definitive account, in English, of this awful conflict – although new studies have appeared throughout that period.

At 600 pages it is long, thorough and beautifully written. I’d read criticisms that it doesn’t give a proper account of the Algerian side, but there is page after page devoted to portraying and analysing the lead characters in the F.L.N. and to disentangling the hugely complex machinations both among the F.L.N. leadership, and between the F.L.N. and the other Muslim groups.

Horne quotes extensively from interviews he himself held with as many of the surviving F.L.N. leaders as he could track down. He explains in forensic detail the social, cultural, economic and political barriers put in the way of Algerians under French colonialism and the multiple unfairnesses of the French system, which led to so much poverty and grievance. When the violence gets going Horne is scrupulous in abominating the results of the terrorist attacks by all sides, and the execution of ‘traitors’ within the F.L.N. or to the civil war between Arab and Kabyle. But he accompanies these with clear-headed explanations of why each side adopted strategies of atrocity. It struck me as perfectly balanced.

Horne was a journalist in the lead-up to the war (working for the Daily Telegraph) and was in Paris researching his first book when the war broke out. He gives examples of the impact de Gaulle’s rousing speeches had on him and fellow journalists as they heard them. He was there. This gives him the invaluable advantage of being able to really convey the atmosphere and the mood, the psychology, the milieu, the feel of what is now a long-distant period.

As mentioned, Horne carried out extensive interviews with all the key players he could track down including – fascinatingly – surviving leaders of the F.L.N. and of the O.A.S. and the French coup leaders. He interviewed no fewer than five of the ex-premiers of France who governed during this stormy period. The text is littered with quotes from key players which shed invaluable light on the complex and long, long course of events. It also means he is able to give in-depth accounts by the main players of vital political and military decisions taken throughout the period.

Horne was himself a soldier who served during World War Two, and so manages to get inside the peculiar mindset of the soldiers in this war, from the foot soldiers on both sides to the higher ranks, the colonels and generals. He doesn’t view the conflict as an academic would (or as I would) as an abattoir, an unrelenting list of brutal murders and tortures – but rather as killings carried out in the name of understandable (if reprehensible) military and political strategies.

Speaking as a non-military man, as much more the liberal humanities student, from one angle the entire text – like the war – is a kind of exploration of the strange twisted notions of ‘honour’ which led men to throw hand grenades into dance halls, to assassinate schoolmasters, to slit the throats of gendarmes, to eviscerate pregnant women. You could make a list of the people – the generals and colonels – who pompously spout on about ‘honour’ and then correlate the massacres and murders committed by their troops. Something similar could maybe done to the F.L.N. who spoke about human dignity and smashed children’s heads against walls or slit open pregnant women.

I circled every mention of ‘honour’ and ‘glory’ I saw. So often they came just before or just after the description of yet more killing, bombing and knifing. Eventually I wished, as the narrator of Hemingway’s novel A Farewell To Arms does, that those old words – glory, honour, pride, dignity – could all be abolished, scrapped forever, thrown into the depths of the sea.

Horne’s style

I’m an English graduate. Words always interest me. Horne was very posh. The son of Sir Allan Horne, he was born in 1925 and sent to a series of public schools before serving in the RAF and the Coldstream Guards during the war. All things considered, it’s impressive that his prose isn’t more old-fashioned. It happily belongs to that post-war style of posh, correct English, grammatically correct but loosened up by the egalitarianism and the Americanism of the post-war years. His prose is a pleasure to read and to read aloud. As a tiny detail of this masterpiece of historical research & writing, I enjoyed the way he confidently uses rare and flavoursome words:

meridional Relating to or characteristic of the inhabitants of southern Europe, especially the South of France, in practice meaning hot-tempered

Says Jouhaud proudly [his disguise] gave him the air of ‘an austere professor, whom candidates would dread at exam time’, though, in fact, photographs reveal something resembling more the coarse features of a meridional peasant. (p.481)

contumelious – (of behaviour) scornful and insulting; insolent

[In the French National Assembly] one of Abbas’s fellow deputies had declared: ‘You showed us the way, you gave us the taste of liberty, and now when we say that we wish to be free, to be men – no more and no less – you deny us the right to take over your own formulas. You are Frenchmen, and yet you are surprised that some of us should seek independence.’ After this eloquent plea, he had been brought to order by the President of the Chamber in this contumelious fashion: ‘Monsieur Saadane, I have already reminded you that you are at the French tribune. I now invite you to speak in French there…’ (p.73)

Objurgation A harsh rebuke:

Through being in charge of the Cinquieme Bureau, with its potent functions of propaganda and psychological warfare [Colonel Jean] Gardes had a powerful weapon and he now used it unhesitatingly to further the cause of francisation – regardless of the objurgations of [Delegate-General] Delouvrier. (p.354)

The Islamic world

Horne has some blunt and simple things to say about the Islamic world. Writing in 2006 he says:

In many ways the horrors suffered in Algeria’s own civil war do read like a paradigm, a microcosm of present-day Islam’s frustrated inadequacy to meet the challenges of the modern world, the anger generated thereby finding itself directed into lashing out against the rich, successful West. (p.18)

This has not got any less true with the eruption in 2011 of the Arab Spring revolts which, in most cases, led to brutal suppression (as in Egypt) or the kind of chaotic civil war to be seen in contemporary Libya or Syria. If you include the under-reported civil war in Yemen, itself a proxy war between Saudi Arabia and Iran, and the recent ostracism of Qatar by the other Gulf states, it’s not difficult to see the entire Arab world as racked by conflicts and crises which its own political and cultural traditions don’t seem equipped to handle.

European nations themselves are fragile – until a generation ago half of Europe was part of the Soviet empire; in my lifetime Spain, Portugal and Greece were run by military dictatorships. And as Horne’s book brings out, just as I was born (in 1961) France nearly experienced a full-blown military coup which could have plunged the country into civil war. Democracy is extremely fragile, requires deep roots, requires the ability to disagree with your opponent without wanting to cut their throat.

Neo-Malthusianism

My son (19 and studying philosophy) calls me a neo-Malthusian. He means that whenever we discuss current affairs I always come back to the sheer scale of human population (and the related destruction of the natural environment). When France invaded, the population of Algeria was 1 million. When the insurrection broke out in 1954 it was 9 million. When Horne wrote his book in the mid-1970s it was 16 million. Today (2017) it is 41 million. The country is lucky enough to float on a vast reserve of natural gas which should underpin its budget for generations to come. But all across the Muslim world from Morocco to Pakistan, huge population increases have put pressure on governments to supply jobs to young men, while at the same time all those countries are reaching the limits of their agricultural and natural resources (of water, in particular).

I don’t think a ‘clash of civilisations’ is inevitable; but I do think an ever-expanding population will provide the motor for unending conflict, and this conflict will be channelled into well-worn channels of racial and religious conflict, invoking the well-worn vocabulary of grievance, victimhood and justification (this doesn’t mean just anti-western violence: the conflict between Sunni and Shia will just get worse and worse, the proxy wars between Shia Iran and Sunni Saudi will get worse; the plight of communities caught in the middle – the Kurds or the Egyptian Copts – will continue to deteriorate).

And various groups or individuals will accept the by-now traditional discourse that ‘It’s all the West’s fault’, that ‘There are no civilians; everyone is a warrior in the war against the infidel’, and so will be able to justify to themselves setting off bombs at pop concerts, driving a truck into a crowd of pedestrians, machine gunning sunbathers on a holiday beach, or storming into a popular market to stab everyone in sight.

All of these things happened during the Algerian War. And all of them are happening again. There are now five million Algerians living in France out of a total population of 67 million. Many of them descendants of the harkis who managed to flee in 1962, many are temporary migrant workers, and many are refugees from Algeria’s bloody civil war in the 1990s.

Many millions are crammed into squalid banlieus, suburbs of cheaply built high-rises and equally high unemployment, where periodic riots break out – the subject of Mathieu Kassovitz’s terrifying film, La Haine. France has been living under a state of emergency since the Bataclan attacks in November 2015. A massive deployment of troops and police was called up for the recent French elections. I shouldn’t be surprised if it becomes a permanent state of emergency. Angry Muslims are here to stay.

The Algerian War has effectively crossed the Mediterranean to France… (p.17)


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