In
the first weeks after the fall of Baghdad in April 2003, Iraqis
would stop Americans on the street and ask who was in charge of
the country. No one seemed to know. The Iraqi leadership had vanished,
and the institutions of the state had collapsed.
The Iraqi exile politicians returning to Baghdad imagined that power
would be handed quickly to them, but they were a contentious group
with dubious backing inside the country. The American military,
which had led the drive to overthrow the regime of Saddam Hussein,
was now standing back, unwilling to intervene to stop the rampant
looting and impose civil order. The civilian reconstruction group,
under retired Army Lieutenant General Jay Garner, had no practical
or legal authority and few assets to run the state. They saw themselves
as liberators and were hesitant to assert themselves as rulers of
Iraq. At a meeting in late April at the Baghdad convention center
between coalition administrators and Iraqi notables, a tribal sheikh
stood up and asked, “Who’s in charge of our politics?”
“You’re in charge,” Garner replied. There was
a collective intake of breath among the Iraqis in the room. An American
official at the meeting later told me, “They were losing faith
in us by the second.”
By the middle of May, Garner had been replaced by L. Paul Bremer
III, who had the status of presidential envoy and the legal backing
of United Nations Security Council Resolution 1483, which acknowledged
that the United States, the United Kingdom, and their coalition
allies were the de facto occupying powers of Iraq. Thus began the
troubled, year-long life of the Coalition Provisional Authority.
Where Garner had tried in his laid-back way to ease a rapid transfer
of power to the Iraqis, Bremer acted as if he was in charge. In
the words of one C.P.A. official, the “arrogance phase”
of the chaotic early days, with its rosy assumptions, had given
way to the “hubris phase” of a heavy-handed occupation.
The C.P.A. eventually issued dozens of legal orders, with the goal
of remaking Iraq into a free-market democracy.
At least some of those orders were of doubtful validity under international
law. The 1907 Hague Regulations and the fourth Geneva Convention
of 1949 define the position of an occupying power in carefully delimited
terms, as place-holder and caretaker rather than as a normally functioning
government. Occupation brings with it a balanced set of responsibilities
and prerogatives. According to Article 43 of the Hague Regulations,
it is the duty of an occupying power to “take all the measures
in his power to restore and insure, as far as possible, public order
and safety, while respecting, unless absolutely prevented, the laws
in force in the country.” To promote public order, or to ensure
its own security, an occupying power can repeal or suspend local
laws, and introduce its own regulations (for instance by regulating
the press or limiting the right of assembly). If it is necessary
for imperative reasons of security, it can intern people without
trial, though this must be done according to a regular procedure
with a right of appeal and regular (ideally six-monthly) reviews.
Domestic courts must be allowed to function wherever feasible, enforcing
those local laws that have not been suspended, and the occupying
power can also establish its own tribunals to enforce its penal
regulations, so long as no one is sentenced without a fair trial.
Occupiers are also obliged to look after the welfare of the civilian
population, ensuring as far as possible that it has adequate food,
water and medical treatment. The Red Cross and other humanitarian
relief groups must be allowed to operate and distribute supplies
if the occupying power cannot meet the needs of civilians itself.
It is forbidden for an occupying power to transfer civilians out
of occupied territory, or to transfer its own civilian population
in.
All these rules apply from the moment an occupying power actually
controls a body of territory, even if it does not acknowledge the
title of occupier.
The laws of armed conflict allow some scope for occupying forces
to alter the legal systems of the countries they control, but envisage
that such measures be limited to those with short-term consequences.
However at least since World War II there has been a contrasting
strain of thought, arguing that transformation of the political
system in place before occupation may in some cases be not only
permitted but desirable. Even as the fourth Geneva Convention was
being negotiated, the United States and its coalition partners were
engaged in the complete remaking of Germany and Japan. In practice,
the international community has been willing to accept such “transformative
occupation” through endorsement by the United Nations Security
Council, where it is aimed at promoting fundamental human rights
or the principle of self-determination. The occupation of Iraq has
tested the limits of this emerging consensus.
The military occupation of Iraq allowed public order to collapse
and was never able to restore it, while the C.P.A.’s ambitions
went far beyond merely administering Iraq until sovereignty could
be returned. Order Number 39, which opened the Iraqi economy to
foreign investment and allowed for foreign ownership of Iraqi assets,
imposed just one of many far-reaching changes in Iraqi law. C.P.A.
officials pointed to language in Security Council Resolution 1483
that instructed the authority to “promote the welfare of the
Iraqi people” and provide “economic reconstruction and
the conditions for sustainable development.”
But the C.P.A.’s project was ideological, not just administrative:
the
radical transformation of Iraq. If it had paid more attention to
“the welfare of the Iraqi people,” and less to the vision
of the Republican administration in Washington, the C.P.A. would
not have tried to privatize state-owned industries in a country
where employment ran well over fifty percent. And if they had taken
their responsibilities under the Geneva Conventions more seriously,
American commanders would have resisted the pressure from their
civilian bosses to use coercive interrogations in the effort to
snuff out the insurgency. The result of this failure was the scandal
of torture at Abu Ghraib, the single worst mark against the Coalition
Provisional Authority. The laws of occupation don’t merely
serve to protect the rights of the occupied—they also protect
the perception of the occupier.
Pushing the envelope of international law was not the occupation’s
core problem. Whether or not its authority was legal, it was increasingly
perceived by Iraqis as illegitimate. This perception had at least
as much to do with the chaos and incompetence of the C.P.A.’s
rule as it did with the original invasion. When I met Bremer at
his office at the Republican Palace in the secure Green Zone, he
told me that the closest historical precedent for his job was that
of the allied military occupiers of Germany and Japan after World
War II. This was a misleading analogy, and it helped to explain
the C.P.A.’s many mistakes. Those postwar occupations were
legitimate, in the eyes of the world and of the defeated nations.
General Douglas MacArthur could write the constitution of Japan
in a way that even Bremer couldn’t force an American draft
constitution down Iraqi throats. Whatever his legal authority, MacArthur
had the power of the moral victor. The measure of the C.P.A.’s
illegitimacy in the eyes of Iraqis lay in the rising number of attacks
against foreign soldiers and civilians during the year of the formal
occupation. Some Iraqis voted with roadside bombs and Kalashnikovs;
others stood aside and refused either to join in the reconstruction
or to resist it. By June of 2004, when Bremer was signing a flurry
of last-minute legal orders before the transfer of sovereignty,
Iraqis had definitively rejected the occupation, and very little
of the C.P.A.’s efforts survived the restoration of self-government.
Bremer and his aides flew home, and Iraq returned to itself.
In his memoir “My Year in Iraq,” Bremer describes a
dark moment in which he concluded that the Americans in Iraq had
become the worst of all things, “an incompetent occupier.”
The only justification for a prolonged occupation by a foreign power,
such as the world hadn’t seen since 1945, was a practical
one: that post-Saddam Iraq was too shattered and divided to govern
itself. Only an occupation that was able to reconstruct the country
and usher in genuine self-rule could have overcome all the counts
against America in Iraq. From the beginning, the occupiers had to
navigate between two imperatives: to exercise enough control that
Iraq stood a chance of succeeding, and to yield enough control that
Iraqis cooperated with the project. In the end, the C.P.A. accomplished
neither.
(See detention and interrogation;
due process; Iraq.)

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