(4)
You Say Chalabi
By the time George W. Bush was inaugurated as the 43rd President of the United States, the plan to replace Saddam Hussein's regime with a pliant government designed to bend to America's will and give American oil companies access to the vast Iraqi oil treasure was well underway.
Ahmed Chalabi cut a very suave figure. In his late fifties, Chalabi was the son of a wealthy Middle Eastern banking family whose grandfather, father and brother had held prominent posts in the pre-Sadaam Iraqi government. A graduate of MIT, he got his PhD in mathematics at Chicago University, and was a math professor at American University in Beirut until 1977. This secularized, westernized Shi'a Muslim was a godsend for the elements in the Bush administration that wanted to overthrow Sadaam Hussein and replace him with a proponent of free-market democracy who would be friendly to American oil companies and an ally of Israel. Some went so far as to call him the "George Washington of Iraq." Never mind the fact that Chalabi had only been to Iraq once in almost fifty years. Never mind the fact that he was under indictment for bank fraud in Jordan. Never mind the fact that he had virtually no support among any group of people in Iraq, secular or religious, Shi'a, Kurdish, or Sunni. Ahmed Chalabi looked like a politician, smelled good, and said the right things to important, influential people.
Chalabi was one of the founding members and principal leaders of the Iraqi National Congress, or INC, based in London and created in 1992 for the express purpose of overthrowing Sadaam Hussein. This organization had a secondary function of lining Chalabi's pockets and those of his cronies with tens of millions of American government (and US taxpayers') dollars. Ahmed Chalabi was a smart, well-dressed, sophisticated crook.
Chalabi gained entrée into the circle of leading neoconservatives through his association with Chicago University professor and founding neocon Albert Wohlstetter, and through him, Paul Wolfowitz, Richard Perle, and Douglas Feith. This trinity represented Bush administration Defense department royalty. Wolfowitz and Perle in particular were largely responsible for enunciating and elucidating the aggressive attitude and posture of the post-9/11 American government through a document called The Project For a New American Century, or PNAC. This vision involved, among other things, forcefully imposing democracy in the Middle East, initially in Iraq, a nation that would magically turn from a bitter enemy into a close friend and trading partner with Israel. And in Ahmed Chalabi, they had found a man who, if installed, that is, elected, promised to do all that and more.
On an early summer's day in 2002, Ahmed Chalabi was introduced to George W. Bush. A few days before a regularly scheduled National Security meeting, Wolfowitz and Feith had attempted to convince National Security Advisor Condoleezza Rice to bring Chalabi in to meet the President and present his case to the members of the National Security team. Rice knew that the President preferred to meet people like this in a smaller, less formal setting, so she arranged for Secretary Rumsfeld to bring Chalabi over early to the White House for a chat in the Oval Office. Present at this meeting were Rice, Rumsfeld, Secretary of State Colin Powell, Vice President Cheney, Chalabi, and the President. Neither Powell nor Rice shared in the neocons' enthusiasm for Dr. Chalabi. Powell in particular saw Chalabi as a charlatan.
Just before the meeting, Condi Rice instructed the President on how to say their guest's name. "Mr. President, he pronounces it Chal–abi, like wallaby. Oh, and he's got a PhD, so he's Dr. Chalabi."
"Really?" replied the President. "I thought it was Cha-la-bi like cha-lu-pa or ja-lop-y."
"Don't get confused," said Dick Cheney. "Guy's touchy about his name."
"I got it. Don't worry. It's Dr. Wallaby, right?... Just kiddin' heh-heh-heh!"
A few moments later, Ahmed Chalabi was escorted into the Oval Office. Impeccably dressed in a gray Caraceni suit and a black pair of Berluti shoes, Chalabi was easily wearing $6,000, not including underwear. George W. Bush walked across the room and took his guest's hand. "Dr. Chalabi, your reputation proceeds you. It is an honor to meet you."
"Mr. President, I am deeply honored to make your acquaintance. May God bring us all peace and prosperity under the wise leadership of George W. Bush. The people of Iraq send their warmest greetings." Chalabi was led around the room to greet the others. He had actually met everyone in the room at least once before except the President, who now led him to a comfortable seat next to his own, with everyone else gathered in a circle on couches or chairs. Ahmed Chalabi had a slight grin on his face and his eyes twinkled with mischief.
George W. Bush was taken slightly aback by the overwhelming exotic scent of cologne emanating from his guest. "If I may, Dr. Chalabi, what is that... cologne you are wearing? I don't believe I have ever smelled anything like that before."
"Ah, yes. Well, it is from a little shop in Paris just off the Rue de Grenouille called La Belette Qui Pue, very exclusive. This particular scent is known as Eau de les Jeunes Testicules de Chèvre, and I believe I paid $2,100 American dollars for an ounce of it. I could pick you up a bottle the next time I'm there–"
"Naw, that's okay heh-heh-heh–it's a little outta my price range isn't it Dick?"
"It's certainly out of mine, Mr. President. Now if we can–"
"So I don't par-lay any Fran-say, Dr. Chalabi. What's that stuff made of? Must be pretty high-end, eh?"
Condi Rice, who did speak French, quickly attempted to steer the answer away from the truth, but Dr. Chalabi insisted on spilling the beans.
"As I understand it, Mr. President, although the name is French, the essence of the parfum comes from a rural area of Bulgaria, near Mount Botev, where farmers raise a certain type of Alpine goat. In a process that has been going on for... oh, well over five hundred years, when the females have their kids, certain males are carefully selected and directly castrated by a process known as burdizzo."
Dick Cheney looked as though he were about to pass a stone.
"The immature testicles are immediately but very carefully placed into the hands of the smallest children in the village and the testes fluid is then squeez–"
"Uhh, Dr. Chalabi, since our time is somewhat limited, perhaps we should move along to the business at hand." Condoleezza Rice said what everyone was thinking. George W. Bush looked a little green.
"Ah, yes. But of course Dr. Rice."
Condi Rice continued: "Dr. Chalabi, why don't you give us a bit of your background as an Iraqi and then you could impart your vision for the future of Iraq."
"Yes, of course." Chalabi cleared his throat and twirled the diamond on his left cufflink. "I was born in Iraq, my father was born in Iraq, his father was born in Iraq, his father before that–in fact, the Chalabi family can trace its lineage all the way back to the beginning of the Abbasid Caliphate and the grand Al-Mansur, who built the new capital of Baghdad around 760 A.D. Chalabis rode side by side with the great Saladin in his glorious victories against the infidel Crusaders–my apologies if I have offended anyone–and was with the Great One when he recaptured Jerusalem." Here the doctor stood up and placed his hand on his heart. "My Chalabi forefathers fought valiantly, but ultimately unsuccessfully against the Mongol Hülegü, grandson of Genghis Khan, in the tragic sacking of Baghdad, ending for all practical purposes the Caliphate. Indeed, the Chalabi tribe has produced many of the most fertile and gallant men in the long and storied history of the Cradle of Civilization, known throughout history as Mesopotamia. Great mathematicians, philosophers, astron–"
"Dr. Chalabi, can we fast forward at least to the 20th century? I've got a lunch in about a half hour..." The Vice President was always a bit cranky right before lunch.
"Absolutely, absolutely!" said Chalabi, sitting down. "The Chalabi family was of course present at the creation of the modern Iraqi state in 1920. Why, the great Winston Churchill personally–"
"I think, Dr. Chalabi, we might just move on to your vision of the future of Iraq, although we are all very impressed by your lineage." Condoleezza Rice was very good at cutting to the chase.
"The future! Yes! The future! Well, Mr. President, let me just say that I don't have to look far to see a perfect model and perfect execution of government. It is here right in front of me."
"Well thanks a lot, Doc. We like it," said the President. Colin Powell stole a quick look at Condi Rice.
"I see a modern vibrant Iraq, a shining beacon of democracy in a most troubled part of the world. A 'City on the Hill,' if you will. An Iraq that will lead the Arab nations into a new definition of themselves–freedom of trade, freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom of women's reproductive rights–" there was an audible collective cringe–"and freedom for the people to choose their leaders, as long as they are not communists or religious fanatics. Or former Baathists. Or homosexuals."
"Or people who disagree with us! Heh-heh-heh," The President couldn't resist.
"No, of course not, Mr. President. I see an Iraqi oil policy that is free from the shackles of the heathens who run OPEC and opens itself up to the generous investment of a new class of multinational petroleum exploration corporations, as we are certainly going to need the wisdom of those who have this kind of experience, and look to reward those who at great risk have been with us in our time of struggle."
"Bingo!" mouthed Dick Cheney, winking at the President.
"I see Iraq as a strong ally of the United States, a willing partner in the War on Terror. To that end," he said looking at Donald Rumsfeld, "I would look most favorably upon the forward positioning of the US military in our country for the express purpose of pre-empting terrorist attacks." Chalabi flicked a piece of dust off his pants. He had nicer-looking nails than Condi Rice. "Furthermore, I see Iraq as new friend of Israel; an ally, a trading partner and partner in peace. I see our two nations collaborating on an oil pipeline from Mosul in the north of Iraq to the great port of Haifa in Israel. To symbolize this remarkable achievement in cooperation, I intend for the Iraqi and Israeli people to form a human chain from Baghdad to Tel Aviv, which will symbolize the new spirit of partnership between two former bitter enemies."
"Dr. Chalabi, if you will," said Colin Powell. "This human chain, and the pipeline for that matter, would have to pass through Syria, which, the last time I checked, doesn't share this newfound affection for the state of Israel, or for Iraq either if I'm not mistaken. How do you intend to deal with the Syrians?"
"Oh, General Powell, General Powell! These are details, and details are simply that: just details, you see. As your American movie The Fields of Dreams says, 'If you build it, they will come there.' In another part of the movie I believe they say, 'There are no tears in baseball.' So you see, I think that this problem of the Syrians will be not so much of a problem in due time."
George W. Bush nodded in profound agreement. He knew his baseball, and appreciated the reference.
Donald Rumsfeld was still stuck back on the basing issue. "So you're saying, and I want to get this straight Dr. Chalabi, that you would allow the US military basing rights in Iraq for how long?"
"How long is an eternity, Secretary Rumsfeld? Think of the highest number! The Iraqi people will be so grateful to the American government and its people for rescuing them from the murderous grip of the evil tyrant Hussein that they will be more than happy to welcome your Army and your Air Force into our country for as long as you wish to stay. So come! Liberate! And stay!" Ahmed Chalabi rose out of seat and crossed over to the frightened Rumsfeld, grabbed him roughly on both sides of his ears and kissed him on each cheek.
"Pardon me, Dr. Chalabi, but I have to believe there are going to be at least some pretty pissed off people in your country after we topple Sadaam. Members of the Baathist party, for starters. Religious Shi'as, as well."
"General Powell, you leave the Baathists to me. They are all Nazis, and I will hang them all by their balls with piano wire, excuse me Dr. Rice, and then I will cut out their eyes with a scimitar and feed them to the wild dogs. As for the Imams and the sheiks, well, there is very little religious feeling left in Iraq. This is not Iran, mind you. Fundamentalism will have no place in a modern Iraq, that I can assure you."
"Dr. Chalabi, how will you deal with Iran and their influence over the Shi'a population in the south?" asked Condoleezza Rice.
"You must understand, as I do, Dr. Rice, the Persian mind. They are a devious, indolent people. I vow to you right here and now: I will personally go to Teheran and deliver this message to the Ayatollahs: if the shadows of your stinking turbans so much as strays into the sovereign territory of Iraq with your anachronistic interpretation of Islam and your smelly ways, I will cut your hearts out with a butter knife and piss in the hole in your chests."
"Well, heh-heh-heh, that'll certainly get their attention," chimed in the President.
"What's more, I propose to you now, Mr. President, that I will raise an army of 50,000 Iraqi exiles, and march at the head of them on a white steed all the way to victory in Baghdad!" At this point Chalabi reached into his pocket and pulled out a silk Hermes handkerchief, and dabbed at his eyes and blew his nose. He then produced a solid gold square box crusted with gems that he opened to reveal many small gray and white pellets. "Would you like a mint, Mr. President?"
The President, remembering the goat story, politely declined.
Condi Rice, with an eye on the clock and an ear on Dick Cheney's growling stomach, decided that they had heard enough. "Well, Dr. Chalabi, this has been very informative. I think we have heard everything we needed to hear. Any other questions for the Doctor before we have to let him go?"
"I have one, Doc," said the President. "Looking straight-on at the map, is Iraq on the left or on the right of Iran? I always get those two confused... "
The entire room sat in stunned silence.
"I'm just kidding! Heh-heh-heh. I know where it is! Let me walk you out of here, Doc. This way. I'll show you the Rose Garden." After a round of perfunctory goodbyes and peace upon your houses, Ahmed Chalabi followed the President and Condi Rice out the side door.
"That was the biggest crock of crap I've ever heard in my life," said Colin Powell, standing up and stretching.
"If he were any more full of shit it would be coming out of his ears," agreed Donald Rumsfeld. "He'll be lucky to round up fifty parking lot attendants and a couple of camels."
"I'll be interested to hear the President's impression of him," said Dick Cheney. "Damn, I hope he hurries. I have to get the hell out of here."
Thirty seconds later, the President bounded back into the room, followed by Condoleezza Rice. "Well, fellas, that was one impressive guy. A true patriot. I stared into the eyes of that man and I believe I could see a man of great integrity. God has truly blessed us to have him fall into our laps. And what a history! Iraq sounds like it's been around a long time. People, I believe we have us the next president of Iraq!"
"Integrity is not the word," said a resigned Powell. "The Iraqi people are in for a real... adventure."
"I'm in!" echoed Rumsfeld, heading for the door. "He'll do just fine."
"Well, there you have it!" said Cheney. "Mr. President, you are a shrewd judge of character. Case closed!"
As they all were leaving, the President ambled over to Dick Cheney. "So who ya goin' to lunch with, Dick?"
"Oh, uh, Bobby Knight and Mike Ditka. Why?"
"Really? Ditka? Sounds like a real fun crew. Wish I could go with you. Maybe you guys could stop by afterwards and I could show 'em around."
"Yeah, well I'll uh, pass along your best wishes and maybe I can get them to autograph a ball or a business card for you. Later."
"That'd be great! See ya, Dick."
The President watched forlornly as Dick Cheney walked out into the world.
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