Two Bushes, Two Iraq Wars

It was the evening of August 1, 1990 in Washington, and halfway around the world, Iraqi forces, encountering little in the way of resistance, moved quickly to consolidate their control of Kuwait. National Security Advisor Brent Scowcroft and I hastily arranged a late interagency meeting, one that would run until the early hours of the morning, on the secure closed-circuit video system. We still didn't know the full extent of Iraq's intentions—but we knew we had to move quickly.

Improvisation was the order of the day. There was no playbook and no contingency plan for dealing with this scenario or anything like it. Agreement was reached to freeze not only Iraqi assets in the United States (the president was awakened in the middle of the night by Brent to sign the necessary papers) but also those of Kuwait. We also decided to go to the United Nations right off the bat to get a Security Council resolution calling for an Iraqi withdrawal. The fact that the Soviets and Chinese lined up with us was a good sign. The Soviets then went a step further by agreeing to a joint statement that backed up the U.N. resolution. This sent a

powerful signal to Saddam. Indeed, it is worth noting that for Secretary of State James Baker it was this action, more than the earlier crumbling of the Berlin Wall, that signified the end of the Cold War.

The first formal NSC meeting of the crisis was convened the morning of August 2 with President George H.W. Bush in the chair. The meeting itself was unfocused. Several people opined about Iraqi intentions and our military and diplomatic options. What worried me (and, as I soon learned, Brent and the president as well) was the apparent readiness of some in the room to acquiesce to what had taken place. They seemed to suggest there was nothing we could do about it and that instead the focus of U.S. policy ought to be on making sure Saddam did not go any farther.

As soon as the meeting ended, the president left for Aspen, Colorado, to give a long-scheduled speech on U.S. military strategy. I walked out of the room and expressed my unhappiness to Brent. He agreed and told me to write up something that he could give to the president upon his return. The conclusion of my memo was that the strategic price of allowing Iraq to keep Kuwait would be enormous, and that evicting Iraq would likely require the use of military force on our part: "I am aware as you are of just how costly and risky such a conflict would prove to be. But so too would be accepting this new status quo. We would be setting a terrible precedent—one that would only accelerate violent centrifugal tendencies—in this emerging 'post–Cold War' era."

The second NSC meeting on the crisis, on Friday, August 3, could not have been more different. People had had time to find their bearings and collect their thoughts. The president wanted to set a fundamentally different mood. Before entering the Cabinet Room, it was decided that Brent would give the Churchill speech, that is, a rousing call for reversing Iraqi aggression. "My personal judgment is that the stakes in this for the United States are such that to accommodate Iraq should not be a policy option" is how he began. Brent could be a good deal more forceful and opinionated than people realized; his soft-spoken demeanor, slight appearance, and almost ascetic manner masked a powerful intellect, and a strong philosophy of American purpose. Deputy Secretary of State Larry Eagleburger echoed Brent, emphasizing not only how our response would shape the era but that allowing Saddam to keep Kuwait would give him sway over Saudi Arabia, OPEC, and Israel. Defense Secretary Dick Cheney then echoed Larry. There was no decision, but the future direction of U.S. policy was there for all to see.

Two days later, a call came for me from Scowcroft's office. Brent came on the line, saying the president would be returning from Camp David in about an hour, and that I should be there to brief him when he got off the helicopter. I said fine, but after hanging up I got uneasy. I had been home for only a few hours the night before, and was dressed quite casually. The consensus around the office was that I didn't need a tie but I did need a blazer. I borrowed one from one of the guys working there. The sleeves were several inches too short.

The bigger challenge was getting something ready for the president. I sat down at the computer to type out the state of play, militarily and diplomatically. The lack of sleep was clearly taking its toll, as my normally modest typing speed had slowed to a crawl. Standing there next to me was Condi Rice, my colleague on the NSC staff responsible for the Soviet Union, who happened to have stopped by that day. Condi couldn't take it. She yanked me out of my chair and typed away with impressive speed, taking down my summary of the messages received from King Hussein of Jordan and others in the region telling us not to overreact.

With the president about to arrive, I was running out of time. The immediate problem was that I couldn't recall how to get out to the White House lawn. Again Condi came to the rescue, and pointed me in the right direction. When the president's helicopter landed, I handed him a sheet of paper and, as he scanned it, we talked about the latest developments. He was clearly frustrated with the lack of diplomatic progress. Asked by the waiting journalists how he would prevent the installation of a puppet government, Bush could barely contain himself. "Just wait. Watch and learn." His parting words were even stronger. "This will not stand. This will not stand, this aggression against Kuwait."