Bob Woodward once again pulls back the curtain on Washington to reveal the inner workings of a government at war. In his fourth book on President George W. Bush, Bob Woodward takes readers deep inside the tensions, secret debates, unofficial backchannels, distrust, and determina- tion within the White House, the Pentagon, the State Department, the intelligence agencies, and the U.S. military headquarters in Iraq. This is the inside story of how Bush governed.
|Publisher:||Simon & Schuster|
|Product dimensions:||5.50(w) x 8.30(h) x 1.30(d)|
About the Author
Bob Woodward is an associate editor at The Washington Post, where he has worked for thirty-seven years. He has shared in two Pulitzer Prizes, first for the The Washington Post’s cov- erage of the Watergate scandal, and later for coverage of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. He has authored or coauthored eleven #1 national nonfiction bestsellers, including three on the current administration—Bush at War (2002), Plan of Attack (2004), and State of Denial (2006). He lives in Washington, D.C.
Date of Birth:March 26, 1943
Place of Birth:Geneva, Illinois
Education:B.A., Yale University, 1965
Read an Excerpt
Two Years Earlier
One weekday afternoon in May 2004, General George Casey bounded up the stairs to the third floor of his government-furnished quarters, a beautiful old brick mansion on the Potomac River at Fort McNair in Washington, D.C. His wife, Sheila, was packing for a move across the river to Fort Myer, in Virginia, the designated quarters of the Army's vice chief of staff.
"Please, sit down," Casey said.
In 34 years of marriage, he had never made such a request.
President Bush, Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld and the Army chief of staff had asked him to become the top U.S. commander in Iraq, he said.
Sheila Casey burst into tears. Like any military spouse, she dreaded the long absences and endless anxieties of separation, the strains of a marriage carried out half a world apart. But she also recognized it was an incredible opportunity for her husband. Casey saw the Iraq War as a pivot point, one of history's hinges, a conflict that would likely define America's future standing in the world, Bush's legacy and his own reputation as a general.
"This is going to be hard," Casey said, but he felt as qualified as anyone else.
Casey's climb to four-star status had been unusual. Instead of graduating from West Point, he had studied international relations at Georgetown University. He'd been there during the Vietnam War and was a member of ROTC, the Reserve Officers' Training Corps. He remembered how some students had spit on him and hurled things when he crossed campus in uniform. In 1970, after his graduation and commissioning as an Army second lieutenant, his father and namesake, a two-star Army general commanding the celebrated 1st Cavalry Division, was killed in Vietnam when his helicopter crashed en route to visit wounded soldiers.
Casey had never intended to make the Army his career. And yet he fell in love with the sense of total responsibility that even a young second lieutenant was given for the well-being of his men. Now, after 34 years in the Army, he was going to be the commander on the ground, as General William Westmoreland had been in Vietnam from 1965 to 1968. Casey had no intention of ending up like Westmoreland, whom history had judged as that era's poster boy for quagmire and failure.
Casey had never been in combat. His most relevant experience was in the Balkans Bosnia and Kosovo where irregular warfare had been the order of the day. He had held some of the most visible "thinker" positions in the Pentagon head of the Joint Staff strategic plans and policy directorate, J-5, and then the prestigious directorship of the Joint Staff, which served the chiefs. But aside from a 1981 stint in Cairo as a United Nations military observer, he had spent little time in the Middle East.
After getting Sheila's blessing, Casey met with Rumsfeld. The two sat at a small table in the center of the secretary's office. "Attitude" was important, Rumsfeld explained Casey must instill a frame of mind among the soldiers to let the Iraqis grow and do what they needed to do themselves. The general attitude in the U.S. military was "We can do this. Get out of our way. We'll take care of it. You guys stand over there." That would not spell success in Iraq, Rumsfeld explained. As he often would describe it later, the task in Iraq was to remove the training wheels and get American hands off the back of the Iraqi bicycle seat.
For the most part, Casey agreed.
"Take about 30 days, and then give me your assessment," Rumsfeld directed.
Casey was heartened that Rumsfeld and he shared a common vision. But he was surprised that the secretary of defense had devoted only about 10 minutes for a meeting with the man about to take over the most important assignment in the U.S. military.
The president held a small dinner at the White House for Casey and John Negroponte, the newly designated ambassador to Iraq, their spouses and a few friends. It was a social event, a way to say good luck.
Casey went to see Secretary of State Colin Powell, who had served in the Army for 35 years and been the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff during the 1991 Gulf War. Powell did not conceal his bitterness. Rumsfeld is screwing it all up, he told Casey. Marc Grossman, one of Powell's senior deputies and an old friend of Casey's, put it more pointedly. "These guys at DOD are just assholes," he said, "and I don't have any more patience for them."
Casey concluded that there was no clear direction on Iraq, so he invited Negroponte to his office at the Pentagon.
Negroponte, then the U.S. ambassador to the United Nations, had volunteered for the Iraq ambassadorship. At 64, he was a 40-year veteran of the Foreign Service. He believed that an ambassador was the executor of policy made in Washington. He and Casey agreed that they weren't getting much guidance from above.
"What are we going to accomplish when we get over there?" Casey asked, and they started to hammer out a brief statement of purpose. The goal was a country at peace with its neighbors, with a representative government, which respected human rights for all Iraqis and would not become a safe haven for terrorists.
The general and the ambassador were pleased with their draft. They had laid out mostly political goals, despite the fact that the United States' main leverage was its nearly 150,000 troops on the ground.
In Iraq, Casey relieved Lieutenant General Ricardo Sanchez, who had been the junior three-star in the Army when he had taken command of the forces the previous year. Casey asked him to stick around for a while after the change of command ceremony. Over dinner, Sanchez unloaded his bitterness about the lack of support he felt he had received from the Army, the Pentagon and Washington. "This is ten times harder than Kosovo," he said.
Casey could relate. He was familiar with the deep, irrational hatred that had driven the ethnic cleansing and other violence in the Balkans.
He met with officers from the CIA station in Baghdad. They posed ominous questions: Could the whole enterprise work? What was the relationship between the political and military goals? Casey and Negroponte had settled on the political goals, but how would Casey achieve the military goal of keeping Iraq from becoming a safe haven for terrorists? As he was briefed and as he read the intelligence, he saw that terrorists had safe havens in at least four Iraq cities Fallujah, Najaf, Samarra and, for all practical purposes, the Sadr City neighborhood in Baghdad.
As Casey had passed through neighboring Kuwait on his way to Baghdad, the Third Army officers had a message for him: "If you want to understand this, you need to talk to Derek Harvey."
Harvey, a 49-year-old retired Army colonel and Middle East specialist who worked for the Defense Intelligence Agency, was a controversial figure within the U.S. intelligence world. He believed in immersion intelligence work, spending months at a time gathering information in the field rather than relying solely on reports and statistics.
In the late 1980s, Harvey traveled throughout Iraq by taxicab 500 miles, village to village interviewing locals, sleeping on mud floors with a shower curtain for a door. He resembled the television detective Columbo full of questions, intensely curious and entirely nonthreatening. After the 1991 Gulf War, when the CIA was predicting the inevitable fall of Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein, Harvey, then a major, insisted that Hussein would survive because members of the Sunni community knew their fortunes were tied to his. He was right. Months before the 9/11 terrorist attacks, Harvey wrote an intelligence paper declaring that al Qaeda and the Taliban leadership in Afghanistan posed a strategic threat to the United States.
After the 2003 invasion of Iraq, Harvey had intermittent Army assignments in the country, traveling quietly, talking to insurgents, sitting in interrogation rooms.
One of his approaches was so-called DOCEX document exploitation. He spent hours poring over files found in safe houses and financial data discovered in Saddam's briefcases. It was clear to him early on that a vacuum existed in Baghdad. Where was political power?
Harvey made scouting missions into the provinces in an SUV, making contact with tribes, learning that former Baathist regime leaders, generals and other former officers were reuniting. He studied documents and letters found in buildings that U.S. forces had raided. Together with his interviews, they told a story: The old regime elements had plans to create a violent, hostile environment.
Within U.S. intelligence agencies, a debate was taking place about how much real organization existed among the insurgents. Who was really in control? Harvey found that the insurgency was based on the old trust networks of professional, tribal and family relationships connected with the mosques. Guidance, instructions and exhortation even the planning documents for operations were often written in the religious language of holy war.
Harvey found that U.S. units had reported a lot of attacks when they first arrived, but the longer they stayed in Iraq, the fewer they reported. It wasn't because the troops had appeased or vanquished the insurgents. Rather, near the end of their tours, they ventured out into the population less and less sometimes never. He also concluded that only 22 to 26 percent of the violence directed at U.S. forces was being reported.
General Sanchez never bought into Harvey's conclusions about the insurgency, even as officially measured violence in the classified SECRET reports kept rising. During one four-month period in mid-2004, the attacks doubled from about 1,000 a month to 2,000.
Casey summoned Harvey to a meeting in early July 2004. Harvey found the general on a balcony at his new headquarters at Camp Victory, gazing out over Baghdad. Casey held up two cigars.
"Do you smoke?"
"Okay, come with me."
What's really going on in Iraq? Casey asked.
The Sunni insurgency is growing and getting worse, Harvey explained. It's organized. It's coherent. And its members have a strategy. They are gaining popular support. They believe they are doing well, and by any measurement they are the number of attacks, their logistics, their financing, their external support, freedom of movement, ability to recruit. Every trend line was going up. Way up.
The insurgency is not a guerrilla war designed to win political power, he said. "It's all about wearing you out, getting you to leave and subverting the existing order, and infiltrating and co-opting the emerging Iraqi institutions."
The Iraqi government was weak, he added. It needed to be stronger, much stronger, but the United States was not going to change the attitudes or the culture. "We have to work around them," he said. "You're not going to force them to make decisions that they're not comfortable with. We don't have the leverage. We really don't."
Harvey said the Americans must learn to operate with humility, because there was so much they didn't understand about how and why the Iraqis made decisions. We think we know, but we're delusional. We get these glimpses, and we extrapolate. But if you really dig, what's it all really based on? Only whispers of the truth. "We don't understand the fight we're in," he said.
Harvey said the revelations about abuse of prisoners at Abu Ghraib months earlier had inflamed Iraqis. Photographs of smiling U.S. soldiers alongside naked, hooded, manacled and leashed inmates had flooded newspapers, television screens and the Internet. They had spread like a lightning bolt through Iraqi society and sent a devastating message: The U.S. occupation was the new oppressor.
As their cigars burned down and their conversation drew to a close, Harvey fixed his gaze on the new commanding general. "We're in trouble."
In Washington, infighting over the war had gone from bad to worse within the administration since the 2003 invasion.
"Control is what politics is all about," legendary journalist Theodore H. White wrote. War is also about control both on the battlefield and in Washington, where the strategy and policy are supposed to be set. But from the start, no one in the administration had control over Iraq policy.
In the early days of the war, the president's national security adviser, Condoleezza Rice, and Hadley, her deputy at the time, had worked on Iraq nonstop and yet they never got control over the policy making. They were no match for Rumsfeld. The president had signed a directive before the invasion, giving the authority for an occupation to the Defense Department.
Bush and Rumsfeld's selection of L. Paul Bremer, a career diplomat, to act as the viceroy of Iraq further diminished the role of Rice and Hadley, as well as Powell at the State Department. Bremer all but ignored the National Security Council.
"We're all told to stay out of it," Hadley complained to a colleague. "This is Don Rumsfeld's thing."
Bremer, who as a presidential envoy had a direct reporting line to the president, bypassed even Rumsfeld and made important decisions unilaterally and abruptly. Some of those decisions proved disastrous, such as disbanding the Iraqi army and excluding from government service tens of thousands of former members of Saddam's Baath Party.
Rumsfeld had his own view of how the U.S. should proceed. He would send out one of his "snowflakes," brief documents asking questions, looking for details, demanding answers, when it was unclear to him what had happened. Though unsigned, everyone knew they represented his orders or questions. But if a snowflake leaked, it provided deniability.
The snowflake sent on October 28, 2003, was two pages long and classified SECRET: "Subject: Risk and the way ahead in Iraq. In discussing the way ahead in Iraq, all agree that we should give Iraqis more authority more quickly."
Powell had a different view. Control was about security. In the first year after the invasion, Bush and Rice repeatedly expressed worry that the oil production in Iraq and availability of electricity were dropping visible signs that conditions were worse in Iraq than prior to the invasion.
"Petroleum is interesting. Electricity is interesting," Powell said, but added, "Mr. President, none of this makes any difference unless there's security...Security is all that counts right now."
Copyright © 2008 by Bob Woodward
Table of Contents
Cast of Characters
Book I Book II
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
The most important discovery in this book may be the interfighting between the DoD, generals in Iraq (against the surge), the CIA (by now, reduced in importance), Iraq's prime minister and the generals for the surge (ultimately correct). It was amazing how unimportant the word of Rumsfeld was by the time of the surge and how awesomely intellectual Petraeus was (unlike continued portraits by Democrats). It is clear from this book, however, how unreliable our so-called Arab 'allies' are such as Nouri al-Maliki is--a killer sectarian leader at best, an agent of Iran at worst. It was an amazing revelation that the DIA (notoriously wrong on the frontline intelligence) was correct in their assumptions of Mr. Maliki and the violence in Iraq, not the overly-hyped CIA. It was also disconcerting that another so-called ally, Egypt, was urging the coup of Maliki by the formidable Mukhbatkar intelligence man Oman Suleiman. Indeed, it was an effort against their regional enemy of the Sunni Muslims and ethnic Arabs--the Persian Iranians and skeptical of both Zionist Israel and shady Syria.
Woodward always writes well and this book is informative to us white house junkies. I lost interest about 2/3 through as did my husband as it felt like the same things were being said over and over.
Bob Woodward¿s The War Within: A Secret White House History 2006-2008 isn¿t exactly a description of something secret about the Bush presidency. The judgment, as with all four Woodward books about the Bush presidency, is in the tone. At first, Woodward seemed to be impressed with the can-do mentality Bush radiated. However, the tone rapidly changed in following books. The last installment is in some ways as bizarre as the war in Iraq itself - in the end of course the main theme of all books. How to be enthusiastic about the ¿surge¿ without discussing the validity in historic perspective? By now it¿s even clear to the staunchest of Bush aficionados that the Iraq war was an unjust war without a cause, which from a military viewpoint started with way too few troops. The so-called surge was no brilliant strategic move but a mere correction of a flaw known from the very beginning in a war that shouldn¿t have been.The story of the book is simple. Bush lets generals decide, careful to avoid the bad example of Lyndon B. Johnson¿s micromanagement of the Vietnam war. He assures his generals ¿tell me what you need, and I take care you¿ll get it.¿ But in the end Bush becomes dissatisfied with the progress and slowly tips over to the surge solution. The tale is a horrid one about postponing decisions in a bloody and unjust war due to electoral considerations.The supposed nefarious role of the VP in the Bush administration is nowhere to be found in this book. Bush seems to be in control with his ¿gut feeling only¿ decisions. Careful analysis and subtle operations are nowhere to be seen. Logical - because were such qualities available in the Bush administration the Iraq war never would have taken place. The absence of Cheney might be caused by something else. It¿s clear the VP isn¿t very elated about telling the outside world what happens in the White House. It¿s clear his agenda was not so much starting a war, but securing unlimited presidential powers. His forte was undoing constitutional guards that followed the criminal actions of the Nixon government.It¿s weird however. Living through the Watergate area and collecting about everything I could find about it Nixon remained a tragic figure, mainly struggling with himself. A clever man turning to the Dark Side because of his fears and inferiority complexes, especially regarding the Kennedy¿s. But George W. Bush never looks tragic in all his disastrous decisions. After eight years of number 43, it¿s clear this man simply is what in the schoolyard we call a bully. And he¿s surrounded by his kin as well. Some more subtle, other less. Nixon doubted all of his life. Bush never have seemed to. That might be the problem of this administration: they never doubted. They knew all the answers. But it was all preconceived wisdom. They didn¿t care about subtleties, analysis and careful considerations. That¿s what makes them all so unsympathetic: basically they all were a bunch of bullying know-it-alls. Woodward¿s books might contain some admiration for Dubya, but it doesn¿t seem to hide that cold fact.
In "The War Within," Bob Woodward offers a fourth book that considers the behind-the-scenes decision-making of the George W. Bush White House. Picking up where the previous book, "State of Denial," ended, this volume covers the period from mid-2006 to mid-2008. In particular, it explores the debates which led to the controversial surge of troops in Iraq under the leadership of Gen. David Petraeus.As in previous books, Woodward taps into his extensive network of sources and uses his stature to gain interviews with most of the principal characters. He also has access to certain secret documents prepared and used in the administration and military during this time period. Woodward's interviews and research reveals the contentious debates within the administration, particularly between State Department, the national security advisor, and key generals and military leaders. It also reveals that the president ignored the wishes of key advisors to approve the surge.Woodward's tone in this book oozes with disdain for the administration's approach to the issue, much like the previous volume on the Bush presidency. In particular, he is frustrated by the lack of transparency and honesty he perceives from Bush and other top officials regarding the war in Iraq. Having already attributed this, at least implicitly, to a poor decision-making structure in the administration, Woodward is a skeptical portrayer of these events. (In fairness, the military success of the surge was still very much in doubt when this book went to press.)Ironically, despite obvious problems in the sharing of information throughout the administration, the depiction of President Bush improves in this volume, though not in Woodward's own eyes. While the president still is less curious and probably less imaginative about the military conflict in Iraq than would be ideal, he proves to be a surprisingly capable leader in this volume. By following the advice of his national security advisor, he pushes for a reevaluation of the strategy in Iraq when it becomes obvious to him that it is not working. Unlike many others who were looking for the least painful solution to leaving Iraq ¿ in some ways mirroring strategic discussions near the end of the Vietnam War ¿ the president believed that the war was still winnable, or at least salvageable, contrary to most people, including many on his own staff. Some might see this as desperate hope, but the ability to execute such a dramatic strategic realignment mid-war should not be underappreciated.Despite some significant problems, including the unfortunate emotional tone, the book still features an excellent first draft of this key period in the Bush presidency. It is well-written and well researched, and offers some intriguing insights into the personalities of several of the key players, including Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice and several of the key generals.
This is an excellent insight on how politicians use the military as thier pawns. Not just the Bush administration but every war time administration. An excellent book with great insight and insider information.
First, the book is long and tedious, but Woodward's details are thorough and intense, which is important considering the historical significance of this book. Some might disagree with his representation of the material, but it's virtually indisputable that there was conflict in the oval office about how to proceed in Iraq and it's certainly important to understand in light of what came of the ongoing conflict. I'm a student of leadership and since finishing 'The War Within' I've moved on to an outstanding leadership fable called 'Squawk! - How to Stop Making Noise and Start Getting Results.' It's been a big boon to me both at work and with my family.