Saddam's Secrets Read online

  It wouldn’t be a big surprise to come to class one day and find Saddam or the chief of staff or the deputy of the president, Izzat Ibrahim al-Douri, or the minister of defense sitting there. They might see a topic that interested them, such as “The Air Threat to Iraq,” being taught by Gen. Georges Sada, for example, and they would come. I was never embarrassed to see one of these people sitting there. In fact, I was glad to have them there, because I wanted to see what kinds of questions they would ask. But the air chief, on the other hand, was terrified of that possibility. He thought, What if Saddam comes and finds out how much I don’t know! So he would always say, “Georges, you go ahead and give the class,” and I was glad to do it.

  On this occasion I was giving a lecture about aircraft carriers, and I soon realized that these people didn’t have any idea what an aircraft carrier could do. But Saddam Hussein had made it known that, by any means, he wanted our army to be able to sink at least one aircraft carrier. But I told them, “Don’t even think about it. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I said that planning and executing a successful attack on an American carrier was beyond the capabilities of the Iraqi Air Force.

  There are some secrets that aren’t really secrets. This is especially true for countries like America and Russia, because even if you know they have certain equipment at a certain location, there’s nothing you can do about it. The Americans weren’t afraid that the Iraqi Air Force might find out that one of their carriers was stationed at a certain place in the Gulf. Iraq isn’t Russia. The Russians have nuclear warheads and missiles that might be able to hit such a target, but we would never be so foolish as to attempt such a thing.

  But on one occasion I was teaching this class and Izzat al-Douri, the deputy prime minister, was there and I could see his eyes were wide open when I started describing the capabilities of an American carrier. I was explaining how many decks there were, how many stories it stood above the water, and how many elevators were on-board, and then I described how many aircraft are kept below decks and how they’re brought up to the flight line. And I went into some detail about the weaponry and how the fighters are catapulted into flight and caught by high-tension cables on landing, and all the time I was talking about these things I could see that Al-Douri was absolutely captivated.

  When I called for questions, one of the officers asked me, “What will it take to hit one of these ships?” And I said it would be very difficult. They’re well defended, they have excellent over-the-horizon targeting radar and satellite links on board as well as support from several kinds of support aircraft. I explained that any aircraft or ship, above or below the surface, that comes within three hundred miles of the carrier would be challenged to identify itself as friend or foe. If they fail to identify, immediate action would be taken against them. If it’s in the air, they’ll send up one or more F-14 Tomcat fighters. The Tomcat’s radar can scan twenty-four targets simultaneously over a range of 150 miles. They climb quickly and can engage six enemy aircraft or other aerial targets simultaneously with their Phoenix rockets.

  In addition, each carrier is escorted by a complete battle group that includes destroyers, frigates, and other ships capable of engaging submarines or anything else below the surface, as well as a helicopter group. And all these ships have air defense systems, cruise missiles, long-range guns, and a staggering arsenal of weapons. Saddam wanted desperately to hit one of these carriers, and our people were eager to know how this could be done, but I made clear that this was beyond our capabilities. Even if we could hit it with an Exocet missile, which was our most capable weapon, the carrier would be able to turn its heavily armored shoulder in the direction of the attack and, more than likely, the missile would have little or no impact.

  An Officer and a Gentleman

  A few days after I had given this lecture, Saddam sent for me but I didn’t know why he wanted to see me. When a man like Saddam sends for you, your first reaction is to wonder, What have I done? Did I say something wrong? No reason was given why Saddam would want to see me, but I went to the palace and told the guards that I’d been called for a meeting with the president. So they told me to go on in to the office of Saddam’s personal secretary, Hamid Yousif Hamadi.

  When I got there, Hamid said, “Oh, hello, Georges. Just have a seat and the president will be with you shortly.” When he said that, I knew I didn’t have much to worry about. There was no urgency or fear in his voice. When I sat down the secretary said, “It will be a few minutes until the minister of defense arrives, and then you can both go in.” Whatever Saddam wanted to talk about, I knew now that it would involve both me and Adnan Khairallah, who was both a cousin and a brother-in-law of Saddam—Saddam had married his sister, Sajida.

  And I think it’s only fair to say that this man was a real officer and not simply someone to whom Saddam had given high rank. He was an officer and a gentleman, a graduate of the military academy, and a capable leader. He earned the rank of colonel on his own and after that Saddam promoted him from colonel to four-star general. That’s a big jump, to be sure. But, even so, it was obvious to everyone who knew him that Adnan Khairallah had an important role to play in Iraq, and that he would eventually become the minister of defense.

  He was a good leader and he had all the right connections. Not only because his sister was married to Saddam, but Khairallah’s wife was the daughter of Ahmed Hassan al-Bakr, who was the president of Iraq before Saddam.

  It’s true he was intimately connected with Saddam and I don’t doubt that he knew about many of the things that Saddam and his evil sons were doing. But so you can appreciate the kind of respect the people of Iraq had for him, I can tell you that of all the statues of Saddam and other Iraqi leaders that were erected in my country, the only one left standing today is the statue of Gen. Adnan Khairallah because the people still admire him. And there are other things named for him as well, such as the Martyr’s Hospital in Baghdad.

  A good example of this man’s character was something that happened shortly before the end of the Iran-Iraq War when Gen. Khairallah made arrangements to take me with him to England to try out the new Anglo-French Jaguar supersonic ground attack fighter to see whether or not this was an airplane we might want to buy. We’d been authorized to purchase 120 aircraft with the latest high-tech weaponry, and I was selected as the pilot to fly these planes and determine which one was best for our systems.

  I’ve never told this story until now, but after I flew the Jaguar our British hosts said they were very pleased with the way I handled the aircraft. Subsequently the British minister of defense told us he had arranged a special dinner for Gen. Khairallah and me. All through the meal that evening, the officers kept talking about the way I’d flown the Jaguar, and Gen. Khairallah was obviously very pleased to hear that kind of praise for one of his pilots.

  The next day he said to me, “Georges, you did a fine job yesterday. I’m very glad you came with me on this trip, and I want to give you a nice gift as my way of saying thank you. The English defense minister was very impressed with your skill and the way you handled the plane. So as my gift to you, I’d like to buy you a nice London suit.” I said, “Thank you, sir. I have many nice suits, but I would be honored to receive such a gift from you.”

  It was flattering to be honored in that way, so I gladly accepted his offer. A little while later I received an elegant and very expensive Savile Row suit, tailored for me, and I still have it in my closet today. It has the broad shoulders and huge lapels that were popular at the time, so I can’t actually wear it anymore, but I must say, it’s still a beautiful suit.

  The importance of this episode wasn’t the suit or the trip, but the trust that developed between us. The success of our trip to England helped create a strong bond of friendship between Gen. Khairallah and me. Later, when he became minister of defense in the summer of 1977, I was one of the first ones he called to tell about his new position, and he told me I was welcome to come to his office anytime. And our fr
iendship was such that he trusted me enough to share some confidential information that would eventually have very serious implications for him.

  Secret Information

  One day in 1984, Gen. Khairallah called and asked for me to meet with him privately. When I arrived, he said, “Georges, I want to discuss something with you, and I don’t want a word of it to get back to Saddam.” I said, “I understand. And believe me, sir, if you tell me it’s strictly between us, it will remain a secret.” He thanked me and shook my hand; then he asked me a question that took me by surprise. He said, “Georges, do you remember the way we attacked Iran?” I said, “Yes, sir. I remember.” He said, “You remember that we were told that Iran had shut down their air space and that was a sign that they were preparing to attack us?” Again, I said, “Yes, sir. I remember that too.”

  He said, “Georges, was that true?” I said, “No, sir. Of course not. I said at the time that merely closing your air space doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re planning an attack. There are many reasons why this could happen.” I mentioned a few of those reasons, and then I told him, “Sir, there’s another reason why I know this is the case. As you know, we captured many Iranian pilots during the war, and in the interrogations I specifically asked them, ‘Why did your country close your air space?’

  “What those pilots told me,” I said, “was that a group of officers in the Iranian Air Force had rebelled against the Khomeini regime, and when the plot was discovered, many of them were killed. But some of the rebels tried to make a run for it, and they were taking any plane they could get their hands on and flying away with them. To put a stop to that, Khomeini decided that he had to close the Iranian air space and order the military to shoot down any plane attempting to enter or exit from Iran without permission.”

  This meant that all air traffic had to be grounded, I told him, both military and civilian. But because of Saddam’s paranoia, I suppose, this was translated in Iraq as an act of war—as the first sign that the Iranian military was preparing to attack us. This all happened on September 17, 1980, and five days later we were ordered to launch the first strike on Iran.

  That’s what I told Gen. Khairallah during our meeting. After I explained what I found out, he said, “Georges, I want you to prepare a report for me, and you’re free to use any military resources you need. I want to know for sure whether the Iranians were trying to attack us or not. Can you do that?” I told him I would be glad to do it. So he said, “How will you do it?”

  I said, “It won’t be hard to do, sir. I’ll make a questionnaire and ask as many of the Iranian pilots we captured as I can, and from their answers I’ll know whether or not they were prepared to make an assault on Iraq.” So that’s what I did, and when I had all those forms compiled and analyzed, it was clear that none of the Iranian pilots was prepared to fly against Iraq. There had been no training, no mission plan, no armament of the Iranian fighters with combat weaponry, and no alerts had been issued from the air command center that would have suggested that war was imminent.

  When I presented this information to Gen. Khairallah, it was obvious that he was troubled by the news. He just looked at me and said, “Georges, why did our air force commander believe we were going to be attacked? And why did he order that we carry out the first strikes?” I told him I didn’t know the answer to that, but perhaps Saddam had pressed him to give a negative report in order to legitimize his decision to attack Iran.

  Obviously, Saddam felt threatened by Ayatollah Khomeini and the Shiite regime in Tehran. If Khomeini continued his verbal assaults on Iraq’s secular government, he might have been able to persuade the large Shia population in the south of Iraq to join a revolution against Saddam, and he wasn’t going to let that happen. So a preemptive strike against Iran was, for him at least, the obvious solution.

  When Gen. Khairallah realized it was Iraq, in fact, who had started the war, he was deeply distressed. I don’t know, but he may even have gone to talk to his cousin, Saddam, about this, and if so, I’m sure he expressed his disappointment that Iraq had done such a thing. As I said earlier, Adnan Khairallah had the temperament, the character, and the moral authority of a leader, and this is probably why Saddam decided he had to get rid of this man before he, too, threatened his power. The Iraqi people loved him, and Khairallah was the only man who might actually have been able to take Saddam’s place. But, unfortunately, that would never happen.

  Conf idential Sources

  I continued to wait for Khairallah outside Saddam’s office for a few more minutes, and when he finally arrived, the secretary went in and told Saddam that the minister of defense and I were there, ready to see him. But Saddam told him, “Send in Gen. Khairallah and tell Gen. Sada to wait.”

  As I sat there I wondered how long I’d have to wait, but after no more than ten minutes the secretary’s telephone rang. It was Saddam telling him to send me in. So I went in and saluted the president. As I started to sit down I noticed that there were several chairs, some close and some far away from the president’s desk, so I walked toward one near the back. But immediately Saddam said, “No, no. Georges, you come up here.” And he pointed to a chair very close to his desk, between himself and Gen. Khairallah. So I walked up to that chair and took a seat.

  As I sat down, Gen. Khairallah spoke directly to me, and he said, “Georges, the president is going to ask you several questions. I want you to answer these questions as the Georges we all know and trust.” Suddenly, I was worried about what would come next. The meeting was beginning to sound more like an interrogation than a conversation about military matters. I was afraid that Saddam was going to ask about the trip to London or something like that. Maybe he wanted to know if Khairallah had shared some classified information about the Iran-Iraq War or something else of a more personal nature.

  But Khairallah went further and said, “Georges, even if the president asks you about Adnan Khairallah, I want you to answer him honestly, as I know you will.” This really puzzled me. I couldn’t imagine what sort of questions Saddam was going to ask. But I remembered my conversation with Gen. Khairallah when he asked me to do the research to find out if we had attacked Iran without provocation. At that time he had sworn me to secrecy.

  This was especially troubling because, on one hand, he was telling me to be honest with the president, but he had previously made me swear never to tell anyone, especially Saddam, what I found out. So I decided that if this was what Saddam was going to ask me, then I would have to say I didn’t know anything about it. For all I knew, it could have been a trap. But I had given Gen. Khairallah my word as a fighter pilot, so even if they killed me, I wouldn’t go back on my word of honor.

  But thank God he didn’t ask me that. In fact, his first question struck me as rather odd. He said, “Why is Gen. Khairallah calling you Georges, and I call you Gyorgyes?” Saddam was saying my name the Assyrian way, so I smiled and said, “Sir, they’re both the same name. It’s a fairly common name among the Assyrian people, as you know—I was named for St. George.” Then I explained, “When Gen. Khairallah calls me Georges, he’s simply using the European name which is just a more affectionate way of addressing me.”

  Saddam said, “Well, if Georges is a more affectionate way, then I will also call you Georges.” I smiled and thanked him, and I thought, Thank God he’s in a good mood today. Maybe he won’t hang me after all!

  Sniff ing Out Rebels

  Then Saddam said, “Georges, do you have any idea why I’ve sent for you?” I said, “No, sir, no idea at all.” He said, “But didn’t you meet with the minister of defense before you came in?” I said, “No, sir. I only saw Gen. Khairallah in the outer office briefly when he arrived a few minutes ago. We greeted each other, and the minister asked me how I was doing. That’s all.”

  Then Saddam asked me the question, and finally I understood what he was looking for. At that time there were people in the city of Mosul, in the north, who were becoming more and more powerful, and Saddam was becom
ing concerned that maybe they were too powerful. During the Iran-Iraq War, a large number of officers in the military command staff were from Mosul, and almost all of them were Sunni Muslims.

  On top of that, the army chief of staff, the intelligence chief, the chief of air force intelligence, six of the eight top air force commanders, and most of the corps, division, brigade, and unit commanders in the Iraqi Army were all Sunnis from the same area around Mosul. In Arabic, these people are called Muslawis. But most Iraqi Assyrians live in this area as well, especially in the mountains to the north of Mosul. It’s the area where my family comes from. But apparently, in his all-consuming paranoia, Saddam had begun to wonder about this, and he realized that the Muslawis could easily form a coalition to challenge his power.

  Saddam would, of course, do anything to hold on to power, so he wanted to find out if any of these people might pose a threat. Suddenly I realized that my visit to his office, along with Gen. Khairallah, was part of his personal fact-finding mission. Saddam said to me, “Georges, I want you to tell me how all these Sunnis from Mosul came to hold all the top positions in the military.”

  “Sir,” I said, “that’s an easy answer. We all know the Shia have no chance of becoming senior leaders and commanders in the military of Iraq. Since we’re always fighting with Iran, which is under the control of the Shia in that country, it’s only natural that the majority of our leaders would come from the well-trained Sunni population in Mosul and the north—and this also happens to be where our best military schools are located.”

  It crossed my mind that several years earlier the army had been looking for a new base commander in Basra, which is in the south. They decided the logical choice would either be me, an Assyrian Christian from Mosul, or another officer who was a Sunni from Mosul. The chief of staff said they would trust either of us more than they would trust any of the Shia officers who lived in that area. They knew we would remain loyal to the military and not simply be puppets of the political and religious groups in the south.