Why we stuck with al-Maliki and lost Iraq
To understand why Iraq is imploding, you must understand Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki — and why the United States has supported him since 2006.
I have known al-Maliki, or Abu Isra, as he is known to people close to him, for more than a decade. I have traveled across three continents with him. I know his family and his inner circle. When al-Maliki was an obscure member of parliament, I was among the very few Americans in Baghdad who took his phone calls. In 2006, I helped introduce him to the U.S. ambassador, recommending him as a promising option for prime minister. In 2008, I organized his medevac when he fell ill, and I accompanied him for treatment in London, spending 18 hours a day with him at Wellington Hospital. In 2009, I lobbied skeptical regional royals to support al-Maliki's government.
By 2010, however, I was urging the vice president of the United States and the White House senior staff to withdraw their support for al-Maliki. I had come to realize that if he remained in office, he would create a divisive, despotic and sectarian government that would rip the country apart and devastate American interests.
America stuck by al-Maliki. As a result, we now face strategic defeat in Iraq and perhaps in the broader Middle East.
Vowing for a united Iraq
Born in Tuwairij, a village outside the Iraqi holy city of Karbala, Abu Isra is the proud grandson of a tribal leader who helped end British colonial rule in the 1920s. Raised in a devout Shiite family, he grew to resent Sunni minority rule in Iraq, especially the secular but repressive Baath Party. Al-Maliki joined the theocratic Dawa party as a young man, believing in its call to create a Shiite state in Iraq by any means necessary. After clashes between the secular Sunni, Shiite and Christian Baathists and Shiite Islamist groups, including Dawa, Saddam Hussein's government banned the rival movements and made membership a capital offense.
Accused of being extensions of Iranian clerics and intelligence officers, thousands of Dawa party members were arrested, tortured and executed. Many of the mutilated bodies were never returned to their families. Among those killed were some of al-Maliki's close relatives, forever shaping the psychology of the future premier.
Over a span of three decades, al-Maliki moved between Iran and Syria, where he organized covert operations against Saddam's regime, eventually becoming chief of Iraq's Dawa branch in Damascus. The party found a patron in Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini's Islamic Republic of Iran. During the Iran-Iraq war of the 1980s, when Iraq used Western-supplied chemical weapons, Tehran retaliated by using Shiite Islamist proxies such as Dawa to punish Saddam's supporters. With Iran's assistance, Dawa operatives bombed the Iraqi Embassy in Beirut in 1981 in one of radical Islam's first suicide attacks. They also bombed the American and French embassies in Kuwait and schemed to kill the emir. Dozens of assassination plots against senior members of Saddam's government, including the dictator himself, failed miserably, resulting in mass arrests and executions.
During the tumultuous months following America's invasion of Iraq in 2003, al-Maliki returned to his home country. He took a job advising future prime minister Ibrahim al-Jafari and later, as a member of parliament, chaired the committee supporting the De-Baathification Commission, an organization privately celebrated by Shiite Islamists as a means of retribution and publicly decried by Sunnis as a tool of repression.
I volunteered to serve in Iraq after watching the tragedy of 9/11 from the Texas governor's conference room. The son of Iraqi immigrants, I was dispatched to Baghdad by the Office of the Secretary of Defense for a three-month assignment that ultimately lasted almost a decade. As special assistant to Ambassador Patrick Kennedy and the Coalition Provisional Authority's liaison to the Iraqi Governing Council, and as one of the few American officials there who spoke Arabic, I became the Iraqi leaders' go-to guy for just about everything — U.S.-furnished weapons, cars, houses or the much-coveted Green Zone access passes.
After the formal U.S. occupation ended in 2004, I stayed in Baghdad to facilitate the transition to a "normalized" American diplomatic presence, and I often shared tea and stale biscuits with my Iraqi friends at the transitional parliament. One of those friends was al-Maliki. He would quiz me about American designs for the Middle East and cajole me for more Green Zone passes. These early days were exhausting but satisfying as Iraqis and Americans worked together to help the country rise from Saddam's ashes.
Then disaster struck. During al-Jafari's short tenure, ethno-sectarian tensions spiked catastrophically. With Saddam's criminal excesses still fresh in their minds, Iraq's new Shiite Islamist leaders concocted retribution schemes against Sunnis, resulting in horrifying episodes of torture, rape and other abuses. Displaced Baath Party members launched a bloody insurgency, while al-Qaida recruited young men to stage suicide and car bombings, kidnappings and other terrorist attacks in a bid to foment chaos.
After the February 2006 bombing of the Askariya mosque in Samarra, a sacred shrine for Shiite Islam's 200 million adherents, Shiite Islamist leaders launched a ferocious counterattack, sparking a civil war that left tens of thousands of innocent Iraqis dead. Al-Jafari initially refused American overtures to institute a curfew after al-Qaida bombed Samarra, insisting that citizens needed to vent their frustrations — effectively sanctioning civil war and ethnic cleansing.
Washington decided that change at the top was essential. After the December 2005 parliamentary elections, U.S. Embassy officials combed the Iraqi elite for a leader who could crush the Iranian-backed Shiite militias, battle al-Qaida, and unite Iraqis under the banner of nationalism and inclusive government. My colleague Jeffrey Beals and I were among the few Arabic-speaking Americans on good terms with the country's leading figures. The only man we knew with any chance to win support from all Iraqi factions — and who seemed likely to be an effective leader — was al-Maliki. We argued that he would be acceptable to Iraq's Shiite Islamists, around 50 percent of the population; that he was hard-working, decisive and largely free of corruption; and that he was politically weak and thus dependent on cooperating with other Iraqi leaders to hold together a coalition. Although al-Maliki's history was known to be shadowy and violent, that was hardly unusual in the new Iraq.
With other colleagues, Beals and I hashed over the options with U.S. Ambassador Zalmay Khalilzad, who in turn encouraged Iraq's skeptical but desperate national leaders to support al-Maliki. Leading a bloc with only a handful of parliamentarians, al-Maliki was initially surprised by the American entreaties, but he seized the opportunity, becoming prime minister on May 20, 2006.
He vowed to lead a strong, united Iraq.
Never having run anything beyond a violent, secretive Shiite Islamist political party, al-Maliki found his first years leading Iraq enormously challenging. He struggled with violence that killed thousands of Iraqis each month and displaced millions, a collapsing oil industry, and divided and corrupt political partners — as well as delegations from an increasingly impatient U.S. Congress. Al-Maliki was the official ruler of Iraq, but with the surge of U.S. forces in 2007 and the arrival in Baghdad of Ambassador Ryan Crocker and Gen. David Petraeus, there was little doubt about who was keeping the Iraqi state from collapse.
Crocker and Petraeus met with the prime minister several hours a day, virtually every day, for nearly two years. Unlike his rivals, al-Maliki traveled little outside the country and routinely worked 16-hour days. We coordinated political, economic and military policies, seeking to overcome legislative obstacles and promote economic growth while pursuing al-Qaida, Baathist spoilers and Shiite Islamist militias. As Crocker's special assistant, my role was to help prepare him for and accompany him to meetings with Iraqi leaders, and I often served as his proxy when the Iraqis squabbled among themselves. The United States was compelled to mediate among the Iraqis because we felt that the country would become stable only with united and cohesive Iraqi leadership, backed by the use of force against violent extremists.
One of the biggest breakthroughs of this era was the Awakening movement, in which, thanks to long negotiations, Sunni Arab tribal and Baathist insurgents turned their guns away from U.S. troops and pointed them toward al-Qaida, thereby reintegrating into the Iraqi political process. Initially hostile to the idea of arming and funding Sunni fighters, al-Maliki eventually relented after intense lobbying from Crocker and Petraeus, but only on the condition that Washington foot the bill. He later agreed to hire and fund some of the tribal fighters, but many of his promises to them went unmet — leaving them unemployed, bitter and again susceptible to radicalization.
Settling into power by 2008, and with the northern half of the nation becoming pacified, al-Maliki was growing into his job. He had weekly videoconferences with President George W. Bush. During these intimate gatherings, in which a small group of us sat quietly off screen, al-Maliki often complained of not having enough constitutional powers and of a hostile parliament, while Bush urged patience and remarked that dealing with the U.S. Congress wasn't easy, either.
Over time, al-Maliki helped forge compromises with his political rivals and signed multibillion-dollar contracts with multinational companies to help modernize Iraq. Few of us had hope in Iraq's future during the depths of the civil war, but a year after the surge began, the country seemed to be back on track.
Al-Maliki didn't always make things easy, however. Prone to conspiracy theories after decades of being hunted by Saddam's intelligence services, he was convinced that his Shiite Islamist rival Muqtada al-Sadr was seeking to undermine him. So in March 2008, al-Maliki hopped into his motorcade and led an Iraqi army charge against al-Sadr's Mahdi Army in Basra. With no planning, logistics, intelligence, air cover or political support from Iraq's other leaders, al-Maliki picked a fight with an Iranian-backed militia that had stymied the U.S. military since 2003.
Locked in the ambassador's office for several hours, Crocker, Petraeus, the general's aide and I pored over the political and military options and worked the phones with al-Maliki and his ministers in Basra. We feared that al-Maliki's field headquarters would be overrun and he'd be killed, an Iraqi tradition for seizing power. I dialed up Iraq's Sunni Arab, Shiite Arab and Kurdish leaders so Crocker could urge them to publicly stand behind al-Maliki. Petraeus ordered an admiral to Basra to lead U.S. Special Operations forces against the Mahdi Army. For days, I received calls from al-Maliki's special assistant, Gatah al-Rikabi, urging American airstrikes to level entire city blocks in Basra; I had to remind him that the U.S. military is not as indiscriminate with force as al-Maliki's army is.
Although it was a close call, al-Maliki's "Charge of the Knights" succeeded. For the first time in Iraq's history, a Shiite Islamist premier had defeated an Iranian-backed Shiite Islamist militia. Al-Maliki was welcomed in Baghdad and around the world as a patriotic nationalist, and he was showered with praise as he sought to liberate Baghdad's Sadr City slum from the Mahdi Army just weeks later. During a meeting of the Iraqi National Security Council, attended by Crocker and Petraeus, al-Maliki blasted his generals, who wanted to take six months to prepare for the attack. "There will be no Iraq in six months!" I recall him saying.
Buoyed by his win in Basra, and with massive U.S. military assistance, al-Maliki led the charge to retake Sadr City, directing Iraqi army divisions over his mobile phone. Through an unprecedented fusion of American and Iraqi military and intelligence assets, dozens of Iranian-backed Shiite Islamist militant cells were eliminated within weeks. This was the true surge: a masterful civil-military campaign to allow space for Iraqi politicians to reunite by obliterating the Sunni and Shiite armed groups that had nearly driven the country into the abyss.
By the closing months of 2008, successfully negotiating the terms for America's continued commitment to Iraq became a top White House imperative. But desperation to seal a deal before Bush left office, along with the collapse of the world economy, weakened our hand.
In an ascendant position, al-Maliki and his aides demanded everything in exchange for virtually nothing. They cajoled the United States into a bad deal that granted Iraq continued support while giving America little more than the privilege of pouring more resources into a bottomless pit. In retrospect, I imagine the sight of American officials pleading with him only fed al-Maliki's ego further. After organizing Bush's final trip to Iraq — where he was attacked with a pair of shoes at al-Maliki's news conference celebrating the signing of the bilateral agreements — I left Baghdad with Crocker on Feb. 13, 2009. After more than 2,000 days of service, I was ill, depleted physically and mentally, but hopeful that America's enormous sacrifices might have produced a positive outcome.
With the Obama administration vowing to end Bush's "dumb war," and the continued distraction of the global economic crisis, al-Maliki seized an opportunity. He began a systematic campaign to destroy the Iraqi state and replace it with his private office and his political party. He sacked professional generals and replaced them with those personally loyal to him. He coerced Iraq's chief justice to bar some of his rivals from participating in the elections in March 2010. After the results were announced and al-Maliki lost to a moderate, pro-Western coalition encompassing all of Iraq's major ethno-sectarian groups, the judge issued a ruling that awarded al-Maliki the first chance to form a government, ushering in more tensions and violence.
This was happening amid a leadership vacuum at the U.S. Embassy in Baghdad. After two months without an ambassador, Crocker's replacement had arrived in April 2009 while I settled into a new assignment shuttling across Middle East capitals with Petraeus, the new head of U.S. Central Command. But reports from Iraqi and U.S. officials in Baghdad were worrisome. While American troops bled and the global economic crisis flared, the embassy undertook an expensive campaign to landscape the grounds and commission a bar and a soccer field, complementing the existing Olympic-size indoor swimming pool, basketball court, tennis courts and softball field at our billion-dollar compound. I routinely received complaints from Iraqi and U.S. officials that morale at the embassy was plummeting and that relations between America's diplomatic and military leadership — so strong in the Crocker-Petraeus era, and so crucial to curtailing al-Maliki's worst tendencies and keeping the Iraqis moving forward — had collapsed. Al-Maliki's police state grew stronger by the day.
In a meeting in Baghdad with a Petraeus-hosted delegation of Council on Foreign Relations members shortly after the 2010 elections, al-Maliki insisted that the vote had been rigged by the United States, Britain, the United Nations and Saudi Arabia. As we shuffled out of the prime minister's suite, one stunned executive, the father of an American Marine, turned to me and asked, "American troops are dying to keep that son of a b---- in power?"
With the political crisis dragging on for months, a new ambassador for whom I had worked previously, James Jeffrey, asked me to return to Baghdad to help mediate among the Iraqi factions. Even then, in August 2010, I was shocked that much of the surge's success had been squandered by al-Maliki and other Iraqi leaders. Kurds asked how they could justify remaining part of a dysfunctional Iraq that had killed hundreds of thousands of their people since the 1980s. Sunni Arabs — who had overcome internal divisions to form the secular Iraqiya coalition with like-minded Shiite Arabs, Kurds, Turkmen and Christians — were outraged at being asked to abdicate the premiership after pummeling al-Qaida and winning the elections. Even Shiite Islamist leaders privately expressed discomfort with Iraq's trajectory under al-Maliki, with al-Sadr openly calling him a "tyrant." Worst of all, perhaps, the United States was no longer seen as an honest broker.
After helping to bring him to power in 2006, I argued in 2010 that al-Maliki had to go. I felt guilty lobbying against my friend Abu Isra, but this was not personal. Vital U.S. interests were on the line. Thousands of American and Iraqi lives had been lost and trillions of dollars had been spent to help advance our national security, not the ambitions of one man or one party. The constitutional process had to be safeguarded, and we needed a sophisticated, unifying, economics-minded leader to rebuild Iraq after the security-focused al-Maliki crushed the militias and al-Qaida.
In conversations with visiting White House senior staff members, the ambassador, the generals and other colleagues, I suggested Vice President Adel Abdul Mahdi as a successor. A former Baathist, moderate Shiite Islamist and French-educated economist who had served as finance minister, Abdul Mahdi maintained excellent relations with Shiites, Sunnis and Kurds as well as with Iran, Turkey and Saudi Arabia.
On Sept. 1, 2010, Vice President Joe Biden was in Baghdad for the change-of-command ceremony that would see the departure of Gen. Ray Odierno and the arrival of Gen. Lloyd Austin as commander of U.S. forces. That night, at a dinner at the ambassador's residence that included Biden, his staff, the generals and senior embassy officials, I made a brief but impassioned argument against al-Maliki and for the need to respect the constitutional process. But the vice president said al-Maliki was the only option. The following month he would tell top U.S. officials, "I'll bet you my vice presidency Maliki will extend the SOFA," referring to the status-of-forces agreement that would allow U.S. troops to remain in Iraq past 2011.
I was not the only official who made a case against Abu Isra. Even before my return to Baghdad, officials including Deputy U.S. Ambassador Robert Ford, Odierno, British Ambassador John Jenkins and Turkish Ambassador Murat Özçelik each lobbied strenuously against al-Maliki, locking horns with the White House, U.S. Ambassador Christopher Hill and al-Maliki's most ardent supporter, future deputy assistant secretary of state Brett McGurk. Now, with Austin in the al-Maliki camp as well, we remained at an impasse, principally because the Iraqi leaders were divided, unable to agree on al-Maliki or, maddeningly, on an alternative.
Our debates mattered little, however, because the most powerful man in Iraq and the Middle East, Gen. Qassim Soleimani, the head of the Quds Force unit of Iran's Revolutionary Guard Corps, was about to resolve the crisis for us. Within days of Biden's visit to Baghdad, Soleimani summoned Iraq's leaders to Tehran. Beholden to him after decades of receiving Iran's cash and support, the Iraqis recognized that U.S. influence in Iraq was waning as Iranian influence was surging. The Americans will leave you one day, but we will always remain your neighbors, Soleimani said, according to a former Iraqi official briefed on the meeting.
After admonishing the feuding Iraqis to work together, Soleimani dictated the outcome on behalf of Iran's supreme leader: al-Maliki would remain premier; Jalal Talabani, a legendary Kurdish guerilla with decades-long ties to Iran, would remain president; and, most important, the American military would be made to leave at the end of 2011. Those Iraqi leaders who cooperated, Soleimani said, would continue to benefit from Iran's political cover and cash payments, but those who defied the will of the Islamic Republic would suffer the most dire of consequences.
Last ditch effort
I was determined not to let an Iranian general who had murdered countless American troops dictate the endgame for the United States in Iraq. By October, I was pleading with Ambassador Jeffrey to take steps to avert this outcome. I said that Iran was intent on forcing the United States out of Iraq in humiliation and that a divisive, sectarian government in Baghdad headed by al-Maliki would almost certainly lead to another civil war and then an all-out regional conflict. This might be averted if we rebuffed Iran by forming a unity government around a nationalist alternative such as Abdul Mahdi. It would be extremely difficult, I acknowledged, but with 50,000 troops still on the ground, the United States remained a powerful player. The alternative was strategic defeat in Iraq and the Middle East writ large. To my surprise, the ambassador shared my concerns with the White House senior staff, asking that they be relayed to the president and vice president, as well as the administration's top national security officials.
Desperate to avert calamity, I used every bit of my political capital to arrange a meeting for Jeffrey and Antony Blinken, Biden's national security adviser and senior Iraq aide, with one of Iraq's top grand ayatollahs. Using uncharacteristically blunt language, the Shiite cleric said he believed that Ayad Allawi, who had served as an interim prime minister in 2004-05, and Abdul Mahdi were the only Shiite leaders capable of uniting Iraq. Al-Maliki, he said, was the prime minister of the Dawa party, not of Iraq, and would drive the country to ruin.
But all the lobbying was for naught. By November, the White House had settled on its disastrous Iraq strategy. The Iraqi constitutional process and election results would be ignored, and America would throw its full support behind al-Maliki. Washington would try to move Talabani aside and install Allawi as a consolation prize to the Iraqiya coalition.
The next day, I appealed again to Blinken, Jeffrey, Austin, my embassy colleagues and my bosses at Central Command, Gen. Jim Mattis and Gen. John Allen, and warned that we were making a mistake of historic proportions. I argued that al-Maliki would continue to consolidate power with political purges against his rivals; Talabani would never step aside after fighting Saddam for decades and taking his chair; and the Sunnis would revolt again if they saw that we betrayed our promises to stand by them after the Awakening's defeat of al-Qaida.
Mattis and Allen were sympathetic, but the al-Maliki supporters were unmoved. The ambassador dispatched me to Jordan to meet with a council of Iraq's top Sunni leaders, with the message that they needed to join al-Maliki's government. The response was as I expected. They would join the government in Baghdad, they said, but they would not allow Iraq to be ruled by Iran and its proxies. They would not live under a Shiite theocracy and accept continued marginalization under al-Maliki. After turning their arms against al-Qaida during the Awakening, they now wanted their share in the new Iraq, not to be treated as second-class citizens. If that did not happen, they warned, they would take up arms again.
Catastrophe followed. Talabani rebuffed White House appeals to step down and instead turned to Iran for survival. With instructions from Tehran, al-Maliki began to form a cabinet around some of Iran's favorite men in Iraq. Hadi al-Amiri, the notorious Badr Brigade commander, became transportation minister, controlling strategically sensitive sea, air and land ports. Khudair Khuzaie became vice president, later serving as acting president. Abu Mahdi al-Muhandis, the Dawa party mastermind behind the bombing of the U.S. Embassy in Kuwait in 1983, became an adviser to al-Maliki and his neighbor in the Green Zone. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of Sadrist detainees were released. And al-Maliki purged the National Intelligence Service of its Iran division, gutting the Iraqi government's ability to monitor and check its neighboring foe.
America's Iraq policy was soon in tatters. Outraged by what it perceived as American betrayal, the Iraqiya bloc fractured along ethno-sectarian lines, with leaders scrambling for government positions, lest they be frozen out of Iraq's lucrative patronage system. Rather than taking 30 days to try to form a government, per the Iraqi constitution, the Sunni Arab leaders settled for impressive-sounding posts with little authority. Within a short span, al-Maliki's police state effectively purged most of them from politics, parking American-supplied M1A1 tanks outside the Sunni leaders' homes before arresting them. Within hours of the withdrawal of U.S. forces in December 2011, al-Maliki sought the arrest of his longtime rival Vice President Tariq al-Hashimi, eventually sentencing him to death in absentia. The purge of Finance Minister Rafea al-Essawi followed a year later.
Al-Maliki never appointed a permanent, parliament-confirmed interior minister, nor a defense minister, nor an intelligence chief. Instead, he took the positions for himself. He also broke nearly every promise he made to share power with his political rivals after they voted him back into office through parliament in late 2010.
He also abrogated the pledges he made to the United States. Per Iran's instructions, he did not move forcefully at the end of 2011 to renew the Security Agreement, which would have permitted American combat troops to remain in Iraq. He did not dissolve his Office of the Commander in Chief, the entity he has used to bypass the military chain of command by making all commanders report to him. He did not relinquish control of the U.S.-trained Iraqi counterterrorism and SWAT forces, wielding them as a praetorian guard. He did not dismantle the secret intelligence organizations, prisons and torture facilities. He did not abide by a law imposing term limits, again calling upon kangaroo courts to issue a favorable ruling. And he still has not issued a new and comprehensive amnesty that would have helped quell unrest from previously violent Shiite and Sunni Arab factions that were gradually integrating into politics.
In short, al-Maliki's one-man, one-Dawa-party Iraq looks a lot like Saddam's one-man, one-Baath Party Iraq. But at least Saddam helped contain a strategic American enemy: Iran. And Washington didn't spend $1 trillion propping him up. There is not much "democracy" left if one man and one party with close links to Iran control the judiciary, police, army, intelligence services, oil revenue, treasury and the central bank. Under these circumstances, renewed ethno-sectarian civil war in Iraq was not a possibility. It was a certainty.
I resigned in protest on Dec. 31, 2010. And now, with the United States again becoming entangled in Iraq, I feel a civic and moral obligation to explain how we reached this predicament.
The crisis now gripping Iraq and the Middle East was not only predictable but predicted — and preventable. By looking the other way and unconditionally supporting and arming al-Maliki, Obama has only lengthened and expanded the conflict that Bush unwisely initiated. Iraq is now a failed state, and as countries across the Middle East fracture along ethno-sectarian lines, America is likely to emerge as one of the biggest losers of the new Sunni-Shiite holy war, with allies collapsing and radicals plotting another 9/11.
Al-Maliki's most ardent American supporters ignored the warning signs and stood by as an Iranian general decided Iraq's fate in 2010. Ironically, these same officials are now scrambling to save Iraq, yet are refusing to publicly condemn al-Maliki's abuses and are providing him with arms that he can use to wage war against his political rivals.
Khedery is chairman and chief executive of the Dubai-based Dragoman Partners. From 2003 to 2009, he was the longest continuously serving American official in Iraq, acting as a special assistant to five U.S. ambassadors and as a senior adviser to three heads of U.S. Central Command. In 2011, as an executive with Exxon Mobil, he negotiated the company's entry into the Kurdistan region of Iraq.