ON AN OVERCAST SATURDAY MORNING, August 4, Cheney, Powell, Wolfowitz, Schwarzkopf and several of his top commanders flew up to Camp David.
Cheney was comfortable with Operations Plan 90–1002. It was the only one they had and he did not want to reinvent the wheel in the midst of a crisis.
They all went into the retreat’s big lodge, with its modern conference room. Bush, Quayle, Cheney, Sununu, Webster and Wolfowitz sat on one side of the 25-foot conference table. On the other side were Baker, Scowcroft, Powell, Schwarzkopf, Fitzwater and Richard Haass. Five small model airplanes were arranged down the middle of the table.
Webster opened with an intelligence update. The CIA director did not usually receive a lot of attention in such meetings because most senior officials felt his briefings were a mere summary of the various classified reports and analyses that had already circulated to them.
This morning his report spoke for itself: an unnecessarily large Iraqi force of more than 100,000 was in Kuwait. Some of these Iraqi soldiers were approaching and massing near the Saudi border—a possible grim foreshadowing of what happened before the Kuwait invasion. The only thing standing between Saddam and the vast Saudi oil fields was a battalion of the Saudi National Guard, fewer than 1,000 men.
Cheney called on Powell, who said that General Schwarzkopf would give an expanded version of the Tier Two option discussed earlier, Operations Plan 90–1002. “The plan is do-able,” Powell said. “It will achieve the mission of defending or repelling an attack. Should there be a subsequent decision to move north to Kuwait” under the same plan, that would be “do-able but expensive.” Under any circumstance, “some [Reserve] call-ups would be required to sustain this force over the long term.”
Summarizing, he said: “There’s a deterrence piece and a warfighting piece. The sooner we put something in place to deter, the better we are. What we can get there most quickly is air power. The Navy’s in position. There’s more moving. Within a month, we could have a large field army in Saudi Arabia. It would be hard to sustain, though, for a long period. There is not much left for elsewhere” in the world should a new crisis develop.
The Chairman reminded them that, given the size of the force that would be necessary to meet the threat, and the distance it would have to travel, this was not another Panama.
What about the Iraqi Air Force versus the Saudi Air Force, asked Sununu, who was sitting between Quayle and Webster.
Iraq has 1,127 aircraft, Schwarzkopf replied. Limited quantities of good ones. The Iraqi Air Force is predominantly used for defense.
Schwarzkopf’s Air Force commander, Lieutenant General Charles Horner, said the Saudis had 60 U.S.-supplied F-15s and 115 older F-5s. He noted that during the invasion of Kuwait, the Saudis had refueled but refused to rearm the small Kuwaiti Air Force, which had put up a futile day-long fight.
Schwarzkopf began his presentation by saying that though the Iraqis had a large army, “They’re not ten feet tall.” He said their forces included:
• A total land force of 900,000, consisting of 63 divisions; but only 8 of them, the Republican Guard, are really the focus of our concern.
• In all, 5,747 tanks, of which 1,072 are the Soviet-supplied T-72s. Most of the T-72s are in Kuwait now.
• About 10,000 lightly armored vehicles, of which only 1,600 are the advanced type.
• Some 3,500 pieces of artillery, but only 330 are self-propelled; the rest have to be towed.
• A total of 3,000 heavy-equipment transporters for moving tanks. This is a remarkable number, he said. The whole U.S. Army has only 500.
“We would not have to worry about the air force after a fairly short period. The navy’s not a problem.”
Summing up, the general said that the Iraqi strengths were obviously the size of their land force, and their chemical weapons, which they had used in the Iran-Iraq War and in 1988 against some of their own citizens, Kurdish rebels in northern Iraq.
Their weaknesses included: centralized command and control; dependence on foreign countries for spare parts; and lack of experience in deep operations away from the front in battle because they were accustomed mainly to frontal attacks like those used by Iran in the Iran-Iraq War.
Schwarzkopf said it would take 17 weeks to get the full deterrence piece of Plan 90–1002—totaling some 200,000 to 250,000 Army, Navy, Air Force and Marines—into the region.
The warfighting piece or offensive capability, he warned, was something very different. Army commanders traditionally speak of desired attacker-to-defender ratios of 3 to 1, 4 to 1, even 5 to 1, he said. In an offensive mode the United States would be the attacker, and in this case the plan called for six and two-thirds divisions on the ground, about 150,000 on the U.S. side. Against the Iraqi force of 100,000, this wouldn’t yield the traditional ratio, but better U.S. equipment, as well as better tactics, control of the air and sea, and many other factors—an economic blockade, possible forces from other nations—would make an attack possible.
On this warfighting piece, Schwarzkopf said, it would take 8 to 12 months to put in place the U.S. force needed to kick Saddam out of Kuwait.
Powell reflected to himself that it was crucial to state these long timelines. For all practical purposes, Saddam’s whole army of 900,000 was available to fight anything the United States might put on the ground in the region. So the deterrence piece and the warfighting piece would both be difficult, perhaps more than difficult. The President had to know that up front. Powell didn’t want the military presenting any pipe dreams about how easy it would be.
Schwarzkopf continued to underscore the U.S. limitations. Sixty percent of the Army’s logistics support personnel are in the reserves, he said. The United States would be dependent on supplies of fuel from the nations in the Middle East. Munitions shortfalls could be expected if shooting started.
Discussion briefly turned to a possible air campaign—going in with nothing but airpower, the obvious U.S. advantage. Hundreds of planes could be made available for this, Schwarzkopf said, describing how those forces could be moved in within days and weeks.
Cheney and Powell made it clear they were not at all comfortable with airpower only.
Powell felt that he had accomplished one thing at least: Cheney had become an absolute believer in the need for ground power.
In his own mind, Cheney saw ground power as the key back-up to airpower. It was necessary, he felt, to adopt a skeptical approach to all the components of any deployment. Defensive or offensive U.S. air superiority might do what was needed right off the bat, and he hoped it would, but no one could be sure. Of course, the Air Force would say it could take care of everything, but Cheney knew he couldn’t buy into that view, or present it to the President. In any event, any defense or offense would have to include ground combat forces.
Cheney turned their attention back to a possible ground defense. What about Iraq’s chemical weapons? What would it be like to try to operate in the chemical protective gear U.S. forces would have to wear in the Saudi desert during the month of August? he asked.
Schwarzkopf said that the units that might be deployed had all trained at the National Training Center in the California desert, in summer conditions that were somewhat equivalent. “The equipment is very uncomfortable,” he said. “It degrades fighting ability. But we have practiced with it a lot.”
When the talk turned again to the possibility of an air campaign, Cheney warned, “From previous history, air campaigns have frequently not achieved the results predicted for them.”
“I’m not an airpower-only advocate,” Schwarzkopf said, but added, “There are four favorable factors that suggest air may be particularly important here. One, it’s a target-rich environment—easy to see things. Secondly, Iraq has no experience operating under air attack.” During the eight years of the Iran-Iraq War, the Iranians had had no substantial air force to use, so the Iraqis were used to operating under clear skies.
“It could cause great disorder and disarray,” Schwarzkopf continued. “Three, we have sophisticated munitions with more precision than ever before. Four, there could be quite a significant morale effect on the Iraqis in the rear who have never been subjected to danger in the past.”
But there are no guarantees, Schwarzkopf said.
Powell said he saw the issue as deterrence—stopping Saddam from coming into Saudi Arabia. “If you want to deter, don’t put up a phony defense, don’t create a phony deterrence,” he said. This was one of the largest land armies in the world; it had to be met with a land force. “If you do it, do it real and do it right.”
There was concern expressed that any fighting would endanger the holy Muslim sites in Saudi Arabia, a development that would rock the Arab world. Islam’s two most revered places were both in Saudi Arabia—Mecca, the birthplace of Mohammed, and Medina, his burial site.
Where is Mecca? Sununu asked.
It was pointed out that Mecca was on the other side of Saudi Arabia, some 700 miles southwest of Kuwait.
“The Saudis worry whether we’re really serious,” Scowcroft told them. “We can do a lot in the air but what we really need is a ground force. Air can bug out in a hurry. This plan is very heavy on air up front.”
Prince Bandar had been worried about the United States just sending one fighter squadron, Cheney said, but he reported that Bandar had been impressed that the plan outlined the day before had seemed serious.
Bush entered the discussion. “My worry about the Saudis,” he said, “is that they’re going to be the ones who are going to bug out at the last minute and accept a puppet regime in Kuwait. We should be asking them how committed they are.”
“It’s a chicken-and-egg problem,” Scowcroft said. “They can’t go out front until they know whether we can be counted on.”
“But this is like if your homeland is about to be invaded,” the President replied, “you grab a pitchfork and go to the border.”
“But this is the Middle East,” Scowcroft said. He reminded them that the Kuwaitis hadn’t mobilized when they were threatened.
“What about this withdrawal announcement?” the President asked, referring to a statement issued by the Iraqis the day before claiming their forces were going to begin leaving Kuwait in two days.
Everyone at the table seemed to agree this announcement might be enough to get the Arab states circling the wagons, saying everything is going to be fine, and insisting that the United States butt out.
“Don’t underestimate Saddam Hussein,” Scowcroft said. “He’s capable of pulling out a brigade and giving the Saudis an excuse.”
This led the discussion back to the unanswered questions: What did Saddam really want? What were just his tactical moves? What were his ultimate objectives?
“There are three things the Iraqis want from a puppet government,” Sununu said. “One, the assets; two, debt forgiveness; three, control of oil.”
Schwarzkopf corrected him slightly, saying that the conditions before the invasion boiled down to: adjustments of the Iraq-Kuwait border in favor of Iraq, debt forgiveness, payment of $4 billion and control of two tiny Kuwaiti-controlled islands, Warba and Bubiyan, at the northwest corner of the Gulf. Saddam wanted the uninhabited islands because they blocked Iraqi access to the Gulf.
On the question of whether Iraq would withdraw, Schwarzkopf said, “They sent in lots of Iraqi special forces in civilian clothes they might be planning to leave in behind.”
“Even if the Iraqis go all the way back,” Powell said, “it’s going to be a different emir and a different situation.” Powell’s point was that the head of the Kuwaiti state would be a changed man, and the status quo in Kuwait and elsewhere in the region had been forever altered.
“This is all designed to be attractive to the Arab League,” Scowcroft said. Arab League meetings were generally designed for the purpose of showing Arab unity, kissing and making up. “Kuwait is not popular among the Arabs,” Scowcroft added.
“That’s why our defense of Saudi Arabia has to be our focus,” Bush finally said.
Powell was delighted that the President seemed to agree with him, but he was still uncertain about what Bush might decide.
The meeting was adjourned, but the top officials—Bush, Quayle, Sununu, Baker, Scowcroft, Cheney, Powell, Webster—were asked to stay behind for a “principals only” get-together. In this smaller group, some very sensitive intelligence on the Saudis was presented. Gathering intelligence on friends and allies of the United States is one of the most risky enterprises conducted by the various U.S. intelligence agencies. But today’s friend might be tomorrow’s enemy—friendships are a matter of degree. In any case, the intelligence agencies were under orders to cast a wide net. Information was often more available on friends than neutrals or enemies, because the United States supplied communications and cryptographic equipment to many allies, and because of the shared airwaves and the sheer proximity of U.S. intelligence operatives in friendly nations. To gather this intelligence, the agencies used everything from the simplest methods, like phone tapping, to the most exotic, such as electronically measuring window vibrations of buildings to pick up conversations inside, to human sources within friendly governments.
The intelligence report showed that the Saudi leaders were getting cold feet, and as had so often happened in the past, it appeared they were giving some consideration to buying their way out of the threat by offering billions of dollars from their oil revenue to Saddam. The Saudis had been willing to pay blackmail before.
Among those gathered, there was a pessimism about the Arabs in general. Everyone heaped blamed on them. They could not be relied on; they would pay off the thief at their throat. There was even some talk that this whole crisis be put on the backburner and downplayed; the United States, after all, had limited power and could not help those who did not want to help themselves.
Despite this negative note on which the meeting ended, it was decided that the President would call King Fahd to take a sounding and make a pitch.
Cheney and Powell left Camp David about lunchtime. Cheney stopped back at his Pentagon office, where some of his aides were hovering, eager to hear what had happened. “What the hell do you want?” he asked half-joking, declining to provide any details. He loaded up a bunch of papers and went home.
• • •
Scowcroft stayed on at Camp David with the President while he called the Saudi king. It was time for some pressure. Bush told the king that Saddam was piling up forces near the king’s border. The Saudis had to act.
Fahd said that Saudi Arabia did not need ground troops to defend itself. The Saudis only needed help with airpower and perhaps some equipment. He also said that Prince Bandar had reported to him on the previous day’s briefings from the Pentagon. I understand you are going to send a team to brief me on the latest overheads and on what your capabilities are to help us defend ourselves, the king told Bush. “Where’s this briefing team you’re going to send?” he asked.
Bush did not have the foggiest idea what the king was talking about. He didn’t know anything about such a plan; it had not been discussed with any of his advisers.
“I did not know you were expecting one, but we’ll put one together,” the President told Fahd.
Fahd said, yes, he wanted a team, a low-level technical or management team.
Afterwards, Bush and Scowcroft realized that the team idea was all the king and Bush had agreed on, and it was not clear what kind of team would be best. Who should be sent? For precisely what purpose? When? A round of telephone calls followed as Bush, Baker and Scowcroft conferred with others about the possibilities. Cheney replied that all he had offered to Bandar the day before was a coordination team so that U.S. forces, if invited in, would arrive in the right spots.
Bandar thought that he had mentioned the idea of a team to Scowcroft. Scowcroft didn’t recall.
“I want to do this,” Bush told Scowcroft. “I want to do it big time.” And later he added, “I want to send somebody personally. It has to be with the understanding they will not come back with no decisions having been made.” The President wanted to use the team to increase the pressure on King Fahd.
Bush raised the possibility of sending Scowcroft. A low-level person would leave the Saudis in the comfortable position of not having to make a decision. But Scowcroft or a high-level, high-visibility team would make it more difficult for the king to delay, or say no. They decided they had to send an offer King Fahd could not refuse.
Bush continued his personal diplomatic activity. He spoke with President Turgut Ozal of Turkey and Canadian Prime Minister Brian Mulroney, two leaders who had already voiced strong opposition to Saddam’s invasion.
The President also spoke with the Kuwaiti Emir, Sheikh Jabir al Ahmed al Sabah. A taciturn man who has headed Kuwait’s large ruling family since 1978, the emir had escaped by car to Saudi Arabia just minutes before invading Iraqi soldiers arrived at his palace to take him prisoner or kill him.
With the emir, Bush was sympathetic and emotional. He made a vow to the exiled Kuwaiti leader: the United States would help win back his country and would ensure that he was restored to power.
• • •
When Powell heard about the Bush-Fahd conversation concerning a “team,” he immediately saw Bandar’s hand. The prince had been working overtime. Bush’s inclination to help and Cheney’s suggestion that Schwarzkopf be used to coordinate a possible operation had been transformed into a “team” to make a presentation to the king. Powell called it “convenient confusion” on Bandar’s part. Bandar had once again cleverly moved the two nations into each other’s arms.
The question for Bush remained not only whom to send, but what exactly to offer Fahd. The king had already stated a disinclination to accept U.S. ground forces, a key part of Schwarzkopf’s Operations Plan 90–1002.
Scowcroft worried that the team might be doomed to failure. He had a series of conversations with Bandar. If the team wasn’t going to get results, he told Bandar, the President would send a lower-level State or Defense official. But if it had a chance of succeeding, if some U.S. official could persuade the king or provide the margin of difference, Bush would send someone senior like himself or Cheney. At the same time, he wanted to know if it was possible for the king to agree to accept the U.S. forces before the President selected someone to send. In other words, could they make sure it was a done deal before the President sent his man?
Bandar said the king was not yet ready; intense discussions were going on within the royal family. He himself was leaving for Saudi Arabia that afternoon to join them and add his arguments for accepting U.S. forces. He promised that after he had arrived in the kingdom and talked with the king, he would call Scowcroft.
Meanwhile, Bush decided that Cheney should head the team if the Saudis would accept him. He was senior enough to act as the President’s personal representative; and as Secretary of Defense, he could speak with complete authority on military matters.
At about 3 p.m. Scowcroft called Cheney at home and explained how the early Bandar discussions had been molded and stretched by Bandar into the notion of a team. But this might help the situation by forcing the king’s hand, Scowcroft said, and the President wants you to head the team. There was, however, some doubt for the moment about whether the king would accept someone as highly placed as Cheney because it would make it almost impossible to say no.
Stand by, Scowcroft told the Secretary of Defense. Saddam might help force the Saudi hand by continuing the buildup on the border and by refusing to supply the Saudis with an explanation of his intentions. Saddam’s silence was scaring the Saudis to death.
About an hour later, Cheney called his spokesman, Pete Williams, who was at home waxing his car. He told Williams to pack his bags, they were going to Saudi Arabia the next day. “I’m not certain we’re going, but it looks like it,” Cheney said. “We’ll know for sure at ten a.m. tomorrow.”
• • •
Williams packed and went to the Pentagon Sunday morning to be ready for the 10 a.m. decision. He read the morning papers and watched the Sunday talk shows.
Schwarzkopf, summoned from Florida again, arrived in the Secretary’s office. As they were awaiting word from the Saudis, Scowcroft came over to the Pentagon. Cheney, continuing his education on Iraq, had invited a group of experts up for a briefing. They included DIA intelligence officer Pat Lang, former U.S. Ambassador to Iraq David G. Newton, and two other experts.
Lang focused on the Iraqi military, while Newton talked about the internal situation in Iraq.
“If anyone is telling you the Iraqis are not capable,” Lang said, “don’t believe them. They are tough as hell. They can go clear to Dhahran [an oil city on the Saudi Gulf coast]. Saddam is not bluffing.” Saddam had a lot of late-model military equipment.
Cheney said he wanted to know what Iraq was like, and what Saddam was like. “I want to know how this looks from the Iraqi side.”
Ambassador Newton spoke for about 30 minutes. He had served as ambassador in Iraq from 1984 to 1988 and knew quite a bit about the country. He was well aware that Cheney and other U.S. policymakers lacked firsthand reports on Saddam’s decision making. U.S. intelligence had one source in Saddam’s inner circle, but he was not at the regular meetings of the Iraqi president’s advisers. There was no true inside knowledge.
The invasion had taken Newton by surprise. When other Arab leaders like King Hussein and Mubarak had said categorically, Look, Saddam told me he’s not going to do this, there was good reason to believe they were right. The Arabs had a kind of heads-of-state club whose members tended to believe one another’s personal statements as absolutes. Newton had concluded that the massing of Iraqi forces on the border had been coercive diplomacy. Now he was concerned that the United States would fall victim to its own “rational man syndrome,” a tendency to analyze foreign leaders as completely rational decision makers. In a one-man operation like Iraq’s that was not the way to make predictions.
Newton told Cheney that Saddam was “a tough, ruthless, hardnosed, intelligent and sometimes brutal leader who is used to getting his own way.” Saddam’s political history emphasized physical survival. He would not tolerate political opposition, and had killed opponents—although Newton was of the opinion that some of the stories about Saddam’s executions were exaggerated. Since most Iraqis believed Kuwait was part of Iraq, Newton said, Saddam’s smash-and-grab job would be popular, but in any case, public opinion would not determine what Saddam did.
Saddam was a believer in the practical use of force, Newton added. He was indifferent to the suffering of others and justified his actions as serving the higher purpose of the Iraqi state. He was cold-blooded.
Iraq might be exhausted by war and desirous of a kind of peace dividend, and the citizen army full of draftees with ten years of service who wanted to return home, but the Iraqi Army was no pushover.
Newton, who had met four times with Saddam, said that the Iraqi president thought he was tougher than the United States, and did not respect democracies.
The experts also told Cheney and Scowcroft that Saddam did not have a Masada Complex, he was not suicidal. His objective was power, and he had the flexibility and manipulative skills of a person who tries to maximize power.
• • •
Scowcroft talked on the telephone to Bandar, who was now back in Saudi Arabia. The national security adviser felt that it was crucial to get a high-level team over there. It must succeed. If it failed, that would amount to an invitation for Saddam to invade. It would demonstrate conclusively to the Iraqi leader that the United States and Saudi Arabia were not standing together, that the United States would not support or defend the Saudis, that the Saudis did not want a U.S. protective umbrella.
About noon, Bandar indicated to Scowcroft that the king would not accept someone at Cheney’s level. The king wanted someone at a lower level, apparently to make it easier to say no. It was precisely what Scowcroft had feared.
But Bush decided what the hell, let’s send someone anyway. It was agreed they would dispatch General Schwarzkopf. Since the general was now going to head a team, not support a Cheney mission, he would have to bring along some of his senior officers and planners. He would fly back to Florida for the third time in four days, pick them up, and leave straight from there for Saudi Arabia on his own plane.
The intelligence that was coming in showed that Saddam was not withdrawing his forces from Kuwait. Instead, more and more Iraqi troops were arriving there.
• • •
In Saudi Arabia, Bandar was told that the king had ordered Saudi scouts to cross the border into Kuwait to see if they could see the Iraqi troops that Bandar had reported. The scouts had come back reporting nothing. There was no trace of the Iraqi troops heading toward the kingdom.
Bandar explained again to the king that he had seen the overheads. There was a debate among the king’s advisers. Much doubt was expressed. Bandar said the king ought to see for himself. The doubt was all the more reason to give the okay for the American team to come make their presentation, Bandar argued, and they might as well accept Cheney, not some lower-level representative.
King Fahd finally agreed.
Bandar called Scowcroft. The Cheney mission was approved, he said. “Come ahead and send him.”
Scowcroft was pleased, but he also wondered about the Saudis’ change of heart. Bandar felt that Scowcroft had panicked. These things always took time to work out. There was always some back and forth.
The two agreed that this did not necessarily mean the king had made the more important decision to accept the U.S. forces. Bandar could not provide absolute assurance on that. But by the end of the conversation, Scowcroft felt that they should take the risk of sending Cheney.
The President agreed.
Scowcroft called Cheney again. “They will accept you,” he said. “It’s a go.”
Departure time was set for 2:30 that afternoon. Cheney was taking Gates, General Schwarzkopf and half a dozen others.
Before he left, Cheney spoke to Bush, who was still at Camp David. There was no time for formal, written instructions. The President outlined the mission verbally. Get the king to agree to accept U.S. forces, he said, get that invitation, persuade him. Prove that the administration will commit fully to a defense and will not back down. If King Fahd invited the U.S. forces in, Bush would send them en masse and they would stay as long as necessary, but not longer than the Saudis wanted.
Powell didn’t get word that Cheney was off to Saudi Arabia until Cheney was almost in the air. As he ran over the events of the past several days in his mind, the Chairman was unable to pinpoint precisely when the President had decided that this major deployment was what he wanted to do. There had not been a piece of paper that laid out the decision or the alternatives, or the implications. There had been no clear statement about goals. The one thing that was clear was that the President was deeply, even emotionally, concerned about the fate of Saudi Arabia.
Powell felt he had played his proper role, laying down the necessity of doing it right—ground troops, airpower, Operations Plan 90–1002. Schwarzkopf was en route to Saudi Arabia with Cheney and with his copy of “Ten-oh-two,” which outlined the deployment of 250,000 troops, airmen and sailors.
That afternoon, Powell was watching CNN as Bush returned from Camp David and stepped off his helicopter on the White House lawn. Bush went to the microphones to comment on the diplomatic activity—talks with the leaders of Turkey, Japan, Canada, France, Germany, and with the now deposed emir of Kuwait. “What’s emerging is nobody seems to be showing up as willing to accept anything less than total withdrawal from Kuwait of Iraqi forces, and no puppet regime,” the President said.
“Are you going to move militarily?” he was asked by one reporter.
“I will not discuss with you what my options are or might be, but they’re wide open, I can assure you of that.” Bush was clearly angered. “Iraq lied once again. They said they were going to start moving out today, and we have no evidence of their moving out.”
When he was pressed by the reporters, Bush snapped, “Just wait. Watch and learn.”
Waving his finger, growing visibly hot, he said, “I view very seriously our determination to reverse out this aggression. . . . This will not stand. This will not stand, this aggression against Kuwait.”
“Uh-oh!” Powell said to himself. The President had now clearly, categorically, set a new goal, not only to deter an attack on Saudi Arabia and defend Saudi Arabia but to reverse the invasion of Kuwait. Powell was stunned. He had not been consulted. He had not spoken with Bush since the Camp David meeting the previous morning.
It was true that Bush had said the first day after the invasion that he wanted it reversed, but it had not been set in stone. Now here it was, a personal and emotional declaration.
Powell had seen presidents get off helicopters and pop off like this before. At times it was an accident, at times it was intentional. Maybe Baker, Scowcroft or Cheney or someone had advised or recommended this. Maybe it was something the President had been brooding about. But Powell knew that he certainly had not been part of it. There had been no NSC meeting, no debate. The Chairman could not understand why the President had laid down this new marker, changing radically the definition of success. It was one thing to stop Saddam from going into other countries like Saudi Arabia; it was very much another thing to reverse an invasion that was accomplished. In military terms, it was night and day. A defense of Saudi Arabia might be accomplished without a fight. Schwarzkopf had told Bush that it would take 8 to 12 months to build U.S. forces up to a level adequate to kick Saddam out of Kuwait. Reversing an invasion was probably the most difficult military task imaginable, and Powell, the number-one military man, had been given no opportunity to offer his assessment.
This angry statement was much more than Powell had expected from Bush. Powell marveled at the distance Bush had traveled in three days. To Powell, it was almost as if the President had six-shooters in both hands and he was blazing away.
• • •
Powell went to the White House that evening for an NSC meeting. Bush, he saw, was still one determined President. He was worked up, his mind made up. If Cheney obtained an invitation, the President was going into Saudi Arabia. Powell attempted to tailor his comments and advice to this obvious given. At the meeting, he made four points:
• Saddam did not want and could not withstand a war with the United States. He was ruthless but not irrational. He would be able to see that he would lose a full-scale shootout with the American superpower. In any event, it was important to make Saddam think he did not want a war with the United States, so they had to get forces there.
• As he had said before, sufficient force had to be sent, no phony defense, no phony deterrence. Operations Plan 90–1002 would guarantee control of the air and sea. Ground forces had to include several heavy divisions to be both a credible deterrent and a credible fighting force.
• A token force—elements of the 82nd Division Ready Brigade—had to be sent immediately as a demonstration of commitment.
• The deployment had to be visible so Saddam could see it and know that any attack into Saudi Arabia would put him in ground combat with Americans.
Bush seemed to like Powell’s points and had no quarrel with them. Whatever it takes to do the job, he said.
The reports from the intelligence agencies were becoming more and more hysterical, Powell felt. As they showed more concern, he found himself becoming less concerned. Powell believed Saddam was gambling. The Iraqi leader thought he could get away with Kuwait, thought it was worth the gamble. Kuwait was his target—small, unpopular and an afterthought in the region. Its riches were a source of resentment to the have-nots in the Arab world. Saddam would know that Saudi Arabia was another matter entirely. Attacking Saudi Arabia would be overreaching; it would be a direct assault on the oil-dependent West.
Baker, like Powell, realized that there had been no debate on whether to make the deployment. Likewise, there had been no discussion about the level of force. The deployment had been decided by George Bush; the level of force was being decided by Operations Plan 90–1002.
Baker liked to solve problems with negotiations and deal-making. He was well on the road to negotiating away the Cold War, and he hoped there soon would be an opportunity to use diplomacy in this new crisis.
Later, Baker worried to several of his closest aides that the White House was speeding, not thinking through what it was doing. Saudi Arabia was a vital national security interest, he believed, and the intelligence showed it was threatened. But Baker knew about moving troops. The first arrivals would be only several thousand. He had grave reservations. “These young men could be slaughtered if Saddam Hussein attacked,” he said.