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17 August 2010 By Dahr Jamail While most media continue to ignore the
US-installed disaster in Iraq, author Nicolas Davies
refuses to do so, and his book “Blood on our Hands:
the American Invasion and Destruction of Iraq” could
not be released at a better time. “The US foreign policy establishment’s response to
this crisis of legitimacy has been to withdraw from
the compulsory jurisdiction of the ICJ; to oppose both
the formation and the functioning of the new
International Criminal Court; to withdraw from other
multilateral treaties; and to hire new experts and
lawyers to devise far-fetched rationales for exempting
US behavior from international legal constraints on a
case by case but increasingly systematic basis,”
writes Davies, in what is essentially a prelude to a
brilliant analysis of why and how the US has
systematically destroyed the country of Iraq. “I started out with a firm conviction that
everything the US was doing in Iraq was illegitimate
and that everything we were being told about it was
propaganda, and the outrage I felt made me determined
to find and expose the reality behind the lies,”
Davies told Truthout, “I was able to place events
within a coherent context of criminal aggression,
hostile military occupation, and popular resistance
because that was the way I saw it all along.” Studying US foreign policy has always been a
passion for Davies. In addition to this, he added
several books and articles on international law to his
reading list, and went to work. “A lot of my motivation to spend so much time
researching and writing about all this came from the
sense of despair I felt watching the aggressive US
response to September 11th, as all the real and
serious problems that afflict the lives of billions of
people were placed on the back burner and subordinated
to the agenda of US militarism,” Davies explained as
his motivation for the book. “Media coverage took a
deeply Orwellian turn, and it became a challenge just
to figure out what was really going on, which I sort
of needed to do for my own sanity anyway.” In the chapter “A Brief History of Regime Change,”
Davies tells how back in the mid-20th century, a CIA
agent in Iraq who was working as an assistant military
attaché at the Egyptian Embassy in Baghdad, hired a
then 22-year-old Saddam Hussein to assassinate the
Prime Minister of Iraq, Abd al-Karim Qasim on October
7, 1959. Hussein botched the job, and fled the country
after being wounded in his leg by a fellow
conspirator. The CIA rented him an apartment in Beirut
to assist him in recovering from his injury, after
which he moved to Cairo, where he was a frequent
visitor to the US Embassy there, while still being
paid by Egyptian intelligence. Davies addresses one of the broadest misconceptions
about Iraq - that of Sunnis and Shiites being at odds
with one another. Despite the fact that the primary
conflict occurring in Iraq was always the guerilla war
between occupation forces and the popular resistance
forces fighting to free Iraq from foreign occupation,
US propaganda increasingly portrayed a secondary
“sectarian” conflict between Sunni and Shiite Arabs as
the primary conflict happening in Iraq. According to
this dominant rhetoric, the foreign occupation forces
that invaded Iraq and plunged the country into chaos
and violence then became well meaning, albeit
sometimes frustrated, peacekeepers or referees. Davies provides one of the more blatant examples of
US-propaganda - that of the myth of Jordanian
terrorist Abu Musab al-Zarqawi being a key leader of
the Iraqi resistance. “Zarqawi’s role as the supreme leader of the Iraqi
Resistance was equally fictitious,” he writes, “A U.S.
military intelligence officer described his key role
in American propaganda to a British reporter in March
2004: “We were basically paying up to $10,000 a time
to opportunists, criminals and chancers who passed off
fiction and supposition about Zarqawi as cast-iron
fact, making him out as the linchpin of just about
every attack in Iraq … Back home this stuff was
gratefully received and formed the basis of policy
decisions. We needed a villain, someone identifiable
for the public to latch on to, and we got one.” Davies articulates what those of us reporting from
Iraq were seeing first-hand: “The American media swallowed whole the myth that
US forces had become embroiled in an intractable
centuries-old blood feud. The stereotype of Iraqis
consumed by ancient sectarian rivalries was soon so
well established in America’s public imagination that
it became a common theme for commentators and
comedians. Even Americans who opposed the war in Iraq
accepted this perverted caricature.” Despite the fact that in Iraq people of the same
tribe often belonged to different sects and social
interaction and intermarriage among Sunni, Shiites and
Kurds was commonplace among the secular majority of
Iraqis, the mainstream media portrayed the opposite. According to Davies, there was a calculated
methodology behind this propaganda about Iraq. “As in
other neo-colonial ventures, occupation officials
scrambled ethnic, sectarian, tribal, class, economic,
political, and geographic groups and interests in a
complex society to create schisms that could be
exploited to facilitate a “divide and rule” strategy.” Since 1958, the single biggest threat to the US
agenda in Iraq has been a strong tradition of secular
nationalist politics. Under this umbrella, no truly
independent Iraqi government was going to agree to the
US terms of privatizing Iraq’s oil industry, nor to
surrendering the country to US strategic interests. Thus, Davies concludes on the topic of
sectarianism, “The overblown but nonetheless
destructive sectarian divisions were a direct result
of this US strategy to divide and rule the country,
not a new phase in some imaginary, long-running
conflict between Sunnis and Shiites.” Truthout asked Davies to explain what he sees as a
deadly connection between propaganda and US
imperialism as exemplified in Iraq. “The disconnect
between the “virtual Iraq” in the minds of the Western
public and the reality of illegal aggression, aerial
bombardment and the assault on civilians and civil
society with powerful battlefield weapons was too much
to keep quiet about. I felt compelled to do whatever I
could to expose the reality behind what struck me as
the most sophisticated military propaganda campaign in
history. The trends in policy and propaganda have
continued along the same lines, and I hope the book
will have some impact on their ultimate reversal.” A direct link to this topic of sectarianism is that
of the “dirty war” in Iraq. Davies writes that a dirty
war “is a strategy of state terrorism and collective
punishment against an entire civilian population with
the objective of terrorizing it into submission.” In November 2003, an $87 billion supplemental
appropriation for the occupation of Iraq included $3
billion for a classified program headed by an Air
Force brigadier general, most of which would be used
to fund the paramilitaries for the next three years. It was precisely this period in which news from
Iraq eventually became dominated by reports of death
squads and ethic cleansing, reports that were
generally couched in the language of “sectarian
violence.” Davies outlines precisely how the death squads and
other forces used to carry out the dirty war were
formed: Following the formation of Ayad Allawi’s interim
government and John Negroponte’s appointment as US
Ambassador in June 2004, Allawi declared a “state of
emergency” and President Bush said that Allawi would
have to “take tough measures.” An Iraqi-American named
Falah al-Naqib was appointed to head the Interior
Ministry of the interim government. He was the son of
General Hassan al-Naqib, the former Chief of Staff of
the Iraqi army who defected to the United States
during the 1970s and was one of the founders of the
Iraqi National Congress in 1992. Both Naqibs had
long-term contacts with the CIA while in exile. In
September 2004, Falah al-Naqib appointed his uncle,
another former Iraqi general and Baath Party official
named Adnan Thavit to lead a new paramilitary force
called the Special Police Commandos. These forces were formed under the direct
supervision of Falah al-Naqib and Steven Casteel, who
had run the interior ministry for the Coalition
Provisional Authority. He stayed on in Iraq as Naqib’s
Senior Adviser, reporting directly to Ambassador
Negroponte. General David Petraeus, who was officially
in charge of training new Iraqi security forces, was
reportedly not informed of the Special Police
Commandos’ existence until the new force was already
established in the ruins of an old army base on the
edge of the Green Zone, but he went along with Naqib
and Casteel’s plans. A retired Colonel James Steele then took charge of
training the commandos, and he continued to work with
them and accompany them on deployments until he left
Iraq in April 2005. Steele, like Negroponte, is a
veteran of prior US dirty wars in Cambodia and Central
America. Prior to Steele having been appointed
Counselor for Iraqi Security Forces by then US
Ambassador of Iraq John Negroponte, Steele was vice
president of Enron and had officially been sent to
Iraq after the invasion as an “energy consultant.” By late 2004, as I was seeing in Baghdad, death
squad activity was rampant. This US policy, augmented
by national elections in Iraq in 2005 that were
largely boycotted by the Sunni population, created a
perfect storm of violence that lasted another two and
a half years that would prove to be, by far, the
deadliest period thus far of the US occupation of
Iraq. Yet, as we have seen, this was blamed on
“sectarianism” and the failures of the Iraqi people,
not on the occupiers. “This failure to connect the dots between related
events that were already a matter of public record
pervaded American reporting on the war in Iraq and US
foreign policy in general,” writes Davies, “It
facilitated a process by which events, actors, and
issues became artificially separated and
compartmentalized in the minds of readers. This fed a
public discourse that was divorced from reality and
was baffling to people in other countries where the
media were not so deeply complicit in government
propaganda operations.” Davies’ believes that the ongoing US effort to use
military power to control access to vital natural
resources, as with Iraq’s oil, is “doomed to failure.” He feels that this “means that the occupation will
end, as surely as the Union Jack was lowered in Hong
Kong and the other British naval bases where I grew up
in the 50s and 60s, and after a shorter period of
occupation.” For Iraq, he sees the US having failed “in all of
its goals” and adds, “A successful occupation of Iraq
could have provided a base for attacking Iran and
Syria, but now it complicates plans for attacking Iran
as much as it supports them.” When asked what he hopes “Blood on Our Hands” will
accomplish, Davies is clear in his reply: “I just want as many people as possible to read the
book; for it to play a significant role in shaping the
way thousands of Americans understand this truly ugly
event in our history; and that this helps to build the
popular resistance to American militarism that will
ultimately bring a relatively peaceful end to the
American Empire, and permit humanity to deal with all
the other problems that we must face.” The preface of the book was authored by Benjamin
Ferencz, the chief prosecutor of the Einsatzgruppen
Trial in Nuremberg in 1947. “If the US is to regain its image as a moral leader
in the world, we must return to the rule of law that
applies equally to all,” Ferencz wrote, “As noted by
Davies, change in policy is possible if the futility
of past policies is recognized. The details will be
found in the pages that follow.” And, indeed, they are. |