Firing blanks
The plot to oust Saddam and the constant pounding from U.S. jets
are going nowhere
By Mark Thompson/Incirlik and Douglas Waller/London
November 1, 1999
Web posted at: 12:11 p.m. EST (1711 GMT)
Saddam Hussein doesn't get to pick his enemies, but if he did,
the choice would be easy. Gunning for him on one front is a
25-year-old rookie pilot from California who wants to be known
only by his call sign, "Loose." An F-15E Strike Eagle pilot,
Loose recently lit his afterburners to escape a salvo of three
Iraqi missiles. "I had a big fat grin," Loose says, remembering
the day when the missiles came close, but missed, and his
commander radioed back that he could retaliate with a pair of
500-lb. bombs. Once again an American pilot trained at a cost of
$2.5 million had beaten the $14,000 bounty Saddam offers to any
Iraqi who can down a U.S. jet. "People can say this is a
low-intensity conflict," Loose said from his hardened bunker at
Turkey's Incirlik Air Base. "But I can tell you that having
somebody shoot at me definitely makes me feel like I'm at war.
And I guarantee that the people I dropped bombs on feel they are
at war."
Saddam's other "enemy" lives 2,000 miles away in an 18th century
town house on London's fashionable Cavendish Square. It looks
more like the corporate digs of a leveraged-buyout firm than the
headquarters of a guerrilla movement. Instead of AK-47s and
Molotov cocktails, No. 17 Cavendish Square boasts fully equipped
offices with ergonomic furniture, fresh-cut flowers and
expensive prints hanging on the walls. For a suite on its second
floor, the U.S. State Department pays more than $200 a sq. ft.
annually, according to documents obtained by TIME--double what
most empty modern office space in London costs. Iraqi opposition
leaders are supposed to use the lavish accommodations Washington
has provided to plot Saddam's overthrow, but most say they stay
away. For them, Cavendish Square is an embarrassing example of
how the other front in this war with Saddam has become an
extravagant charade.
Most Americans can be forgiven if they have forgotten--assuming
they ever knew--that the U.S. has been at war with Iraq. A year
ago, as the U.N. weapons-inspection program in Iraq collapsed,
President Clinton announced that the U.S. would not only
"contain" Saddam's threat to the rest of the world but also work
to "change" the brutal regime in Baghdad. Clinton also signed
the Republican-sponsored Iraq Liberation Act, which allowed him
to supply Iraqi opposition groups with as much as $97 million
worth of military equipment and training. Secretary of State
Madeleine Albright appointed veteran foreign-service officer
Frank Ricciardone to be her czar for overthrowing the Iraqi
dictator, and in January took him along on a Middle East tour to
show him off to Arab leaders.
Since then, U.S. warplanes have attacked Iraqi positions in
northern Iraq on 89 days--about one of every two days they have
flown. Just last week jets bombed missile sites around Mosul for
three days. According to documents reviewed by TIME, on some
days the Air Force has dropped more than 30 bombs and missiles
on as many as half a dozen Iraqi targets. Two months ago, the
war ratcheted up when U.S. warplanes attacked an air-defense
center south of Mosul and later discovered they had caused
"serious destruction" to a 500-man unit hidden there, according
to a senior commander. The Administration, senior aides insist,
finally has "a serious strategy" for keeping Saddam in his box
and eventually ousting him. In his State Department office,
Ricciardone has a framed picture of TIME's 1992 cover of Saddam
with its red bull's-eye over his face.
Saddam doesn't have to duck for cover just yet. Personally, the
bombings endanger him little. And they seem to have had slight
effect on his power base, though it is tough to judge popular
support for the dictator. One year after Clinton unveiled his
plans to overthrow Saddam, Iraqi opposition groups grumble that
the program is being staged more for show than out of any
conviction that the exiles have a chance of succeeding. House
International Relations Committee chairman Benjamin Gilman
asserts flatly, "The Administration is not very serious...about
replacing Saddam's regime."
Dodging the Golden BB
At Incirlik, an isolated Turkish base 444 miles southeast of
Istanbul, the Gulf War has never really ended. Most mornings
some two dozen American F-15s and F-16s scream skyward, along
with E-3 and RC-135 command planes and KC-135 tankers to keep
them safely flying and fueled. An hour later, in a delicately
choreographed ballet 400 miles east, the warplanes take their
final sips of gas before turning south toward Iraq. Their
mission: to show the Iraqi military how impotent Saddam is in
protecting Iraqi sovereignty--and them. Maybe this will foment
rebellion.
The war out of Incirlik began last Dec. 28 following a four-day
U.S. bombing campaign designed to hinder Saddam's efforts to
build atomic, biological and chemical weapons. Since then,
according to Pentagon reports, American pilots have flown close
to 12,000 missions, dropped some 1,200 bombs on nearly 300
targets and destroyed 139 anti-air artillery guns, 28 radars, 13
mobile surface-to-air missile launchers and 22 command sites--all
without a single scratch on American property. For the most part,
the Iraqis lie low and launch a flurry of flak, hoping to down a
warplane and deliver a live pilot to Saddam. "If you're looking
at the right place at the right time, you can see the muzzles
flash," says Captain Brian Baldwin, an F-15 pilot. "They're
looking for the golden BB."
Lieut. Colonel Vincent DiFronzo, an F-15 pilot, says the Iraqi
missiles and artillery are getting closer to hitting U.S.
warplanes, which fly at more than 20,000 ft. to avoid Iraqi
fire. "They're making adjustments that allow them to cover more
altitude," he says. The Iraqis fire usually with no electronic
guidance, which would sound an alarm in U.S. cockpits. Often the
only alert pilots have is the silent pop of charcoal-gray puffs
of smoke from exploding artillery hundreds or thousands of feet
below. U.S. pilots say they attack only after Iraqi forces
threaten them.
Many of Iraq's antiaircraft-missile batteries have been moved
south to protect Baghdad and other sensitive sites, leaving
ancient guns, and even rockets designed to kill tanks, to fire
crudely at U.S. warplanes. Many guns and missiles still in the
north have been placed in residential neighborhoods or amid
historic ruins, where, the Iraqis know, Washington's
sensitivities will keep U.S. bombs at bay. A handful of American
planes are dropping some bombs crammed with concrete instead of
explosives to minimize the chance of civilian casualties.
U.S. officers like to talk of the multinational effort under way
at Incirlik, but it's a far cry from the 28-nation alliance that
ousted Iraq from Kuwait in the 1991 Gulf War, or even the
19-nation war in Kosovo. The current force of 1,274 includes
1,058 Americans, 179 British, and 37 Turks supporting about 45
planes. The Turks fly no planes into Iraq, and the British fly
only reconnaissance planes there. When it comes to dropping
bombs, it is an all-American show.
Traveling First Class
Success and failure are harder to measure on the second front. A
TIME investigation found that little if any of the $8 million
Congress has already appropriated (in Economic Support Funds,
separate from the Liberation Act money) to oust Saddam has ended
up directly in the hands of Iraqi opposition groups. Rather,
Capitol Hill investigators complain, much of the money has gone
to high-priced public relations experts and consultants. A
somewhat less than ferocious outfit called Quality Support Inc.,
of Springfield, Va., for example, has received $3.1 million to
book hotel rooms, airline tickets and conference halls for
opposition meetings. Of that, a State Department document
estimates that Quality Support will spend about $670,000 for the
seven-month lease at the Cavendish Square office and for three
company staff members to work there. (Quality Support declined
to comment on its contract.)
Money has gone to other projects that have little to do with
overthrowing the Baghdad regime. The Middle East Institute in
Washington is receiving $255,738 to host "thematic conferences"
on what kind of government Iraqis should establish after
Saddam's downfall. An additional $200,000 has been budgeted for
an environmental study of Iraq's southern marshlands. "It's all
just nonsense," says Francis Brooke, Washington representative
of the Iraqi National Congress.
The CIA, which secretly plotted against Saddam before Clinton
went public, is still picking up the pieces of its shattered
operation. More than five years ago, the agency poured millions
of dollars into a guerrilla force of the I.N.C., a loose
coalition of Iraqi exile groups led by Ahmed Chalabi, a wealthy
Iraqi Shi'ite and skillful political organizer. But with the
White House nervous about being sucked into a contra-style
insurgency war, the CIA pulled the plug on its support for
Chalabi's guerrillas and turned to Iraqi officers in Saddam's
inner circle who might topple him. That ended in an embarrassing
debacle for the agency when Saddam uncovered the plots and
crushed them. The CIA is trying to recruit new agents inside
Iraq. But intelligence sources concede that it could take at
least five years before that network would cause Saddam any worry.
Chalabi didn't fade away after his defeat in 1996. Instead, he
flew to Washington, where, to the outrage of the CIA and State
Department, he began cultivating key Republican Senators such as
Trent Lott and Jesse Helms, who forced Clinton to sign the Iraq
Liberation Act. Chalabi hoped that the legislation would open
the spigot on U.S. arms and training so he could field another
guerrilla force.
Last month the White House notified Congress that it was
withdrawing the first $5 million from the $97 million made
available by the Iraq Liberation Act. But instead of guns, the
Pentagon is providing desks, faxes and computers. And for
military training, the Defense Department is starting out by
having four Iraqi exiles fly to a Florida Air Force base this
week for 12 days of classes on the role of the military in
developing democracies. The four have been told to wear casual
civilian clothes. It is clear that the White House hopes that if
military power can't oust Saddam, maybe these insurgents can.
Others see the training in a different light. "It's lame," says
Democratic Senator Joseph Lieberman. "It's obviously not what
Congress intended them to do with that money."
Groundhog Day
The problem with simply discarding hope for an on-the-ground
insurgency is that the in-the-air war is expensive and, top
commanders will sometimes admit, ineffective. Almost every day
at Incirlik is Groundhog Day, as in Bill Murray's 1993 film.
"You wake up, you come in, you get ready to launch the aircraft,
you launch the aircraft, they come back, you recover them, you
go home," says Staff Sergeant George Palo, who maintains
aircraft fuel systems. "We don't have a lot of calendars around
here, because the only day that counts is the day you get to go
home."
Operation Northern Watch, the U.S.-led effort to keep the skies
over northern Iraq clear of Iraqi warplanes, is the strangest of
wars. It is not being waged according to Pentagon doctrine. It
lacks a clear, attainable objective and forfeits the initiative
to Saddam. And it doesn't make traditional military sense.
Risking the lives of your pilots to destroy an opponent's
air-defense network makes sense only when such risky missions
precede an aerial invasion.
Military experts are split on the effectiveness of this kind of
wait-and-bomb war. Retired General Merrill McPeak, Air Force
Chief of Staff during the Gulf War, believes it represents the
prototypical 21st century conflict, in which a grinding,
persistent battle plan trumps a short, intense war. "The bombing
isn't hurting us, and it is hurting Saddam," he says. But Richard
Haas, who helped run the Gulf War as a key member of the Bush
Administration's national-security team, says a superpower's
might evaporates as such a stalemate drags on. "When a great
power acts, its military force must be seen as menacing," Haas
says. "Using little bits and pieces of military force tends to be
counterproductive because it becomes part of the background
noise."
A New York City Vacation
Much of the war against Saddam has faded to the level of
indistinct chatter, where it is hard to sort signal from noise.
The problem is bad on the military front, but it is even worse
among the Iraqi insurgents, who have to be coached, caressed and
cajoled by the State Department. Last weekend 300 delegates from
various Iraqi opposition groups gathered in New York City, where
U.S. officials hoped they would finally lay aside their feuds and
present a unified front. That didn't happen. The major group
representing Iraq's southern Shi'ites, the Iran-backed Supreme
Council for the Islamic Revolution in Iraq, didn't even show.
The confusion helps explain why Saddam seems to have grown
comfortable with his situation. Though the Desert Fox air
campaign last December rattled his regime, and though there have
been outbreaks of violence among Shi'ites in southern Iraq and
even Baghdad, his security services always ruthlessly stamp out
dissent. The CIA still believes Saddam will be eliminated by
someone in his inner circle, but intelligence agents don't see
how a "silver bullet" would ever get close to him. He has
multiple layers of security around him, never announces his
travel plans ahead of time, sleeps in a different bed every night
and uses doubles for public events and even some private
meetings.
And the U.N.'s oil-for-food program is helping Saddam stay in
power. The nearly $5 billion worth of food and medicines the U.N.
has allowed the regime to buy with oil exports has in some cases
been re-exported for profit or its distribution in the country
has been cruelly manipulated by the government to control hungry
groups. Meanwhile, Saddam, who intelligence agencies believe is a
billionaire, has built 48 palaces for himself since the Gulf War
ended. Last April, according to a State Department report, he
opened a vacation resort west of Baghdad for his cronies. It is
complete with 625 homes, a man-made lake, stadium, amusement park
and Ferris wheel.
Chalabi and the other exile leaders want arms and real military
training from Washington now. The Patriotic Union of Kurdistan
(P.U.K.) and the other Kurdish faction in northern Iraq, the
Kurdistan Democratic Party (K.D.P.), say they have 80,000
lightly armed fighters, while the Supreme Council for the
Islamic Revolution in Iraq claims a force of 20,000 Shi'ite
soldiers who have been launching raids in the south. Chalabi
wants to train about 500 exile intelligence operatives, who
would first infiltrate Iraq. They would be followed by 5,000
U.S.-trained Iraqi guerrillas, who would seize territory under
U.S. air cover and encourage demoralized Iraqi army units to
defect to their cause. Democratic Senator Bob Kerrey would take
U.S. support a step further. Containing Saddam with sanctions
and almost weekly aerial attacks against his sam batteries "has
failed," Kerrey argues. "I favor committing U.S. ground forces
and air forces" to topple the dictator.
Saddam's neighbors, however, have concluded that Washington is
not serious about getting rid of him, so they have begun
rearranging their foreign policies to live with him and are
pressing for the economic sanctions to be lifted. Most Arab
governments refuse to deal with Chalabi or allow him to use
their countries as staging areas for any guerrilla force he
might assemble. Jordan has convicted him in absentia on
banking-fraud charges. (Chalabi says the allegations were
trumped up.) Though the loyalty of many divisions in Saddam's
400,000-man armed forces is questionable, U.S. intelligence
believes that enough of the elite Republican Guard and Special
Republican Guard units would stand and fight. And those
well-trained divisions, with thousands of tanks and artillery
pieces, would maul the guerrillas in what intelligence analysts
believe would become a Middle East version of the Bay of Pigs.
Faced with that possibility, it is no wonder the Clinton
Administration seems content to let Public Enemy No. 1 remain at
large.
THE OPPOSITION LEADERS
MOHAMMED BAQIR AL-HAKIM
--Leads an Iran-backed Shi'ite force but has boycotted the Iraqi
opposition meeting in New York City because he doesn't want to
be seen as a U.S. pawn
MASSOUD BARZANI
--His Kurdistan Democratic Party joined forces with Saddam's
army in 1996 to defeat Kurdish rivals and rout guerrillas. For
now, he's back with the opposition
JALAL TALABANI
--Head of the Patriotic Union of Kurdistan, which has a small
militia. He aligns with Chalabi when it helps the Kurds, but he
has sent envoys to Baghdad in the past
AHMED CHALABI
--Head of the Iraqi National Congress, he is the most dynamic
of the leaders and well connected in Washington, but other
guerrilla groups and Arab nations distrust him
MORE TIME STORIES:
Cover Date: November 8, 1999
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