Another
tenth anniversary approaches. In March 2003 the US led coalition invaded Iraq.
It was a disaster on almost every level. Hundreds of thousands of Iraqi
civilians were killed and many continue to die every year in continuing
instability; opinion in the Arab world hardened against the west, pushing countless
young men towards militancy and Al-Qaida; in Iran the liberal, western leaning
opposition was hugely damaged and its theocracy strengthened; crucial resources
were diverted from Afghanistan at a time when that country was beginning a
fragile recovery after years of Taliban rule; thousands of Coalition service
personnel were killed or damaged by the conflict; at home disillusion with
politicians and our political processes intensified.
Defending
his decision to invade, Blair now cites the removal of Saddam Hussein as an
unquestionable good. Few would argue otherwise, but Parliament didn’t vote for regime
change as a stated war aim. Ironically, had Bush and Blair waited a few more
years, he would probably have been deposed in the Arab Spring anyway, along
with Ben Ali of Tunisia, Mubarak in Egypt, Gadaffi in Libya and Saleh in Yemen.
As
we built towards what seemed an unstoppable invasion in February 2003, I was
beginning work on a comic book version of Henry
V. Parallels were intense. For one thing, the play opens with Henry
questioning two Archbishops on the legality of his claim to the French throne,
and hence of his planned incursion into France.
This
claim was tenuous, based on the fact that his great-great-grandmother Isabella
was daughter of Philippe IV. The case was weak in law, partly because
Isabella’s son, Edward III had renounced his right to the throne in return for
substantial territories, but more importantly because French law denied inheritance through the female line. Henry asserted it did, ignoring
the fact that should inheritance descend through the female line, his cousin
Philippa had a better claim to the English throne than he did.
The
intricacies of Salic Law are bewildering, but slightly more understandable than
whether or not we had the right to invade Iraq under United Nations Resolution
1441. In a memo of 30 January 2003, Blair’s Attorney General, Lord Goldsmith,
had declared the war wouldn’t be legal without a further UN Resolution. Blair
knew this would not be forthcoming. We shall probably never know whether
political pressure was placed on Goldsmith, but in final advice written on
17 March he deemed the war to be lawful.
This
was not a view shared by UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan who in September 2004
said it was ‘not in conformity with the UN Charter… from the charter point of
view, it was illegal.’ Henry’s claim was supported by his Archbishops. Blair’s
invasion of Iraq was condemned by another, Archbishop Desmond Tutu, who in 2003
described the decision to support Bush as ‘mind boggling’ and in 2012 called
the invasion of Iraq ‘morally indefensible.’
The
case for war was made on the grounds that Saddam Hussein was stockpiling
weapons of mass destruction, which according to Blair could be used against the
United Kingdom within 45 minutes of a decision to deploy them.
In
the months leading up to the war, Dr Hans Blix had led a UN team searching for
WMD. No evidence of their existence was found. Blix had pleaded for more time
to continue his investigation in an attempt to avert the conflict, but this was
disregarded.
There
was clear pressure of time. The US had tens of thousands of troops stationed in
Saudi Arabia and the Pentagon knew they had to go into action before the onset
of summer when desert conditions would have become impossibly hot. Any delay
meant either holding them in base or returning them home.
Henry
V faced similar campaigning constraints. Arriving in France in August 1415 he
immediately began a siege of Harfleur, but this took longer than anticipated
and the town didn’t fall until September 22. Although this was late in the
season and his army strength had been diminished by dysentery, Henry was
reluctant to return home without further reward. He therefore headed north, for
Calais. As the French army moved to block this advance, the two met at
Agincourt on October 25 1415.
Here,
the lateness of the campaign was to Henry’s advantage as the field of battle
had been recently ploughed and days of heavy rain turned it to mud. As the
leading French knights were felled by English and Welsh archers, the weight of
numbers following behind meant the second wave stumbled into the fallen and
tumbled into the mud. Many drowned in it or were crushed by those pushing on
them behind.
The
slaughter of French knights was immense, but even at the time Henry’s victory
was tainted by his decision to have massed prisoners put to death. On balance,
it was felt to be a legitimate decision, given his fear that the prisoners
might re-arm and attack again. Less easy to justify was Henry’s conduct at the
siege of Rouen in the winter of 1418-19 in which twelve thousand starving
women and children left the city in the hope of safe passage. Henry refused
this, leaving them to die of cold and hunger in the perimeter ditch.
In
modern terms, this would certainly have been considered a war crime or crime
against humanity. There is still faint hope that Blair will be dragged before
the International Court in The Hague on similar charges. The concept of a ‘just
war’ was much discussed in 2003. It is also a key aspect of Act 4 Scene 1 when
the disguised King Henry talks with ordinary soldiers on the eve of Agincourt.
One of them tells him,
If
the cause be not good, the King himself hath a heavy reckoning to make, when
all those legs and arms and heads, chopped off in a battle, shall join together
at the latter day and cry all, ‘We died in such a place,’… I am afeard there
are few die well that die in a battle… Now if these men do not die well, it will
be a black matter for the king that led them to it.
The
soldier’s words are impressive and moving. It is indeed a ‘black matter’ for
any ruler to lead his country to war without good cause. In Blair’s case,
everything turns on the weapons of mass destruction and the extent to which
evidence of their existence was inflated.
In
February 2004, Dr Blix accused the British and US governments of exaggerating
the threat posed by Iraq’s WMD to justify invasion. He was not alone in this
view. Dr David Kelly, a member of the weapons inspectorate clearly felt the
case had been ‘sexed up’ – to use Andrew Gilligan’s infelicitous phrase. Less sensationally stated, Major General
Michael Laurie told the Chilcot Inquiry in 2011 that the purpose of the
intelligence dossier ‘was precisely to make a case for war, rather than setting
out the available intelligence, and that to make the best out of sparse and
inconclusive intelligence the wording was developed with care.’ Since Major
General Laurie helped compile the dossier, I guess he should know. His
deposition echoed an earlier finding by the Senate Intelligence Committee in
2008 when it stated the Bush administration had ‘misrepresented the
intelligence and the threat from Iraq’.
It
is possible that the Chilcot Inquiry into the war will give us a clearer
understanding of what happened in the days preceding the invasion. This is
uncertain, since in July 2012 the government vetoed release of Cabinet
documents to the Inquiry, at the same time that the Foreign Office successfully
appealed against disclosure of phone calls made between Bush and Blair.
On
February 15 millions of people around the world marched to protest against the
impending war. In London, there were perhaps as many as two million marchers,
myself amongst them. It was an extraordinary and inspiring occasion. We failed.
It
is hard to know why a politician as astute and sensitive to popular opinion
should have committed himself so completely to the disastrous American led
invasion of Iraq. There are various theories. One argues that by allying
himself to the US, he believed he could exert a moderating influence on policy
(if true, a humiliating delusion); another suggests that a successful and
applauded intervention in Sierra Leone had given him a taste for military
solutions. It is possible that after two election victories, a huge majority in
parliament and seven years in power he had simply gone mad; a messianic sense
of purpose intensified by a growing Catholic adherence and belief in his own
infallibility, whatever the evidence or opposition.
On
March 17 Lord Goldsmith gave his opinion that the war was legal. Two days later
the bombing of Iraq began. Overnight Tony Blair became what he has remained, a
figure of hatred and ridicule.
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