The Dissembler
(See Cover)
From the long driveway that leads up to Iraq's huge, yellow-walled Ministry of Defense, a Bofors 40-mm. dual-barrel gun last week glared out at the city of Baghdad. Backing it up were leveled .50-cal. machine guns and recoilless rifles mounted on Jeeps. And even such visitors as got past the gun-toting sergeant at the ministry door were never more than a few feet from the business end of an automatic weapon. Padding up and down the corridors of the ministry, young officers of the Iraqi army kept firm hand on submachine guns or machine pistols.
As the headquarters and home-away-from-home of Premier Abdul Karim Kassem, the armed camp that is Baghdad's Defense Ministry was a faithful reflection of Iraq's mood and condition. Nine months after Kassem and a handful of co-conspirators toppled the government of hated Strongman Nuri asSaid, the land that some say was the Garden of Eden is a place of terror, plot and counterplot. Its prisons are jammed with an estimated 5,000 political prisoners and ex-officials, and its lampposts are periodically festooned with bodies. Kassem's Iraq is a place where once-eminent citizens disappear without a trace, a land where fortnight ago the dock workers of Basra, outraged by a friendly reference to Egypt's President Nasser, killed and mutilated a customs clerk and--the modern-day hallmark of Iraqi politics--dragged his body through the streets.
Above all, Iraq today is a land where cautious men do not openly criticize the Communist Party. In the last nine months, the Communists have established themselves as the sole strong political organization in the new republic, dominating the mobs, the press, the radio and parts of the government. On their behalf, a drumhead People's Court, whose broadcast proceedings are challenging Cairo's Voice of the Arabs as the Mideast's most popular radio program, fills the Iraqi people with Communist-made opinions. Such is the nightmarish atmosphere that in at least one Iraqi city (Basra) the populace is firmly convinced that Communist-led unions have prepared a list of local employers, merchants and professional men to be liquidated as soon as the opportunity offers.
Undermined by the twin Communist weapons of chaos and subversion, Iraq, until recently the West's strongest ally in the Middle East, is in real danger of becoming a Soviet satellite. Already the new Iraqi government has withdrawn from the Baghdad Pact, driven Britain's R.A.F. from its Habbaniyah base near Baghdad. Unless the slide toward Communism is halted, the Soviet Union will penetrate the very heart of the Middle East, outflank staunchly pro-Western Turkey and increasingly shaky Iran. Encamped at the head of the Persian Gulf, the U.S.S.R. could then render the rest of the Middle East militarily--and perhaps politically --indefensible by the West.
The Snake Charmer. The man who stands between Iraq and all-out Communism is a lean, hard-muscled and ascetic professional soldier with a fixed, snaggle-toothed smile. His name Abdul Karim Kassem. On the face of it, Karim Kassem, 44, seems a weak reed on which to rest the free world's hopes. Modest in deportment, moderate in conversation, Kassem is nonetheless inordinately and naively suspicious. (He recently asserted that one section of the U.S. embassy in Baghdad lured Iraqis in with stories that automobiles can be bought there--and then filled them with anti-Kassem talk.) Cursed by shyness and a weak, high-pitched voice, he is sadly lacking in the rabble-rousing skills on which most successful Arab politicians rely. Most serious of all, he is totally inexperienced in affairs of state. Says one Western diplomat who has dealt with Kassem: "Things like treaties and international agreements are quite beyond him."
For all that, Kassem is a man so convinced that he has been chosen by destiny to be a leader that he early ruled out marriage for fear that it would interfere with his dreams. Born in Baghdad, the son of a lower-middle-class family, Kassem graduated from the Royal Military College in 1934, fought with distinction in the Palestine war, and over the years won regular promotions. At senior officers' school at Devizes in southwestern England, his classmates nicknamed him "the snake charmer" because of his ability to argue them into undertaking improbable courses of action in field problems. (He once got the members of his team to send hypothetical tanks off to the left flank, though everyone knew that this routed them through a deep swamp.) A British officer-instructor, less impressed with Kassem, marked him "sincere, hardworking, completely unbalanced."
The Chance to Strike. Up to the day when the riddled body of King Feisal slumped down before Baghdad's royal palace, Kassem had the reputation of being the King's most loyal soldier. But in fact he had been quietly nursing plans of revolution for 24 years, had skillfully used his official position to recruit younger officers--notably, mercurial Abdul Salam Aref, who became his closest "brother in revolt" and took to proclaiming, "I am Kassem's son." In 1956, at a meeting in his bachelor house on the outskirts of Baghdad, Kassem merged his network with another military conspiracy, became supreme leader of Iraq's "free officers."
The chance to strike came on the night of last July 13. Kassem's 19th and Aref's 20th brigades received orders to move through Baghdad on their way to friendly Jordan, then beset by fear of revolt within its own borders. Following Kassem's plan, Aref's men instead rolled into Baghdad at 4:30 a.m., seized the radio station, pulled all switches at the telephone exchange, and, lobbing a mortar shell through a back wall of the royal palace, mowed down the King and members of the royal household as they stumbled in confusion out the front door. Premier Nuri asSaid, cunning veteran of two generations of Arab politics and unflinching friend of the West escaped from his house disguised as a woman--only to be hunted to death and dragged dead through the streets the next day. At noon of the first day, Kassem joined Aref and set up the headquarters of the triumphant revolution in the Defense Ministry.
Plotters Without Plans. The regime the free officers overthrew was probably the most unpopular of any in the Middle East. With iron hand, old Nuri had suppressed the political ambitions of the middle class, banned student activity, outlawed trade unions, forbidden freedom of the press. Scorning any mass appeal, Nuri governed by alliance with several hundred semifeudal sheiks who held 94% of the land. Thus, though Iraq is the only Middle East country with plenty of both oil and water, its peasants were as wretched as any in all Asia. And though much of the $200 million-a-year revenue that the government drew from the British-run Iraq Petroleum Co. was devoted to economic development, Nuri's long-range irrigation and dam-building projects made little immediate difference to the vast majority of Iraq's 6,500,000 people.
Kassem and his fellow plotters were obsessed with the need to change all this. Their prime task, Kassem repeatedly declared, was "improving the living standards of our population and saving them from dwelling in slums." Aside from this vague expression of good intentions, the new military rulers had no political program at all. But, because the tide of Arab nationalism was running high everywhere, Colonel Aref had a somewhat hazy idea for closer relations with Nasser's United Arab Republic. In Kassem's mind was a similarly muddled idea for setting up a neutralist Iraqi state.
The Bargain. In this planlessness and confusion of purposes lay the seeds of Iraq's present chaos. When Aref flew off to Damascus for a much-publicized meeting with Nasser, and Egyptian MIGs began operating on Iraqi airfields, Kassem recoiled, began looking for allies against the eloquent Aref and his Nasserite followers. The Communists, who, alone among Iraqi political parties, had emerged from Nuri's police state lean, hard and well organized, were only too ready to give Kassem the help he wanted--for a price.
Anti-Communists charge that the Communist bargain was urged on Kassem by his chief aide, burly, Red-lining Colonel Wasfi Tahir (who, incredibly, held the same job under Nuri). Kassem himself may have failed to see the dangers in the bargain; his enemies charge that he himself flirted with Communism in his youth, and not long ago he was still capable of declaring: "I don't care about parties . . . They can call us Communists or anything else, if they like."
With Kassem's tolerance, if not connivance, the Communists proceeded to combat Aref's popularity with the Baghdad mob by seizing leadership of the People's Resistance, a paramilitary force originally formed to help the Kassem regime consolidate its power. And without ever coming out into the open, the Reds expanded their influence with "the street" by establishment of carefully rigged front groups --the new trade unions, the Students' League, the Peasant Front, the Peace Partisans, the League for the Defense of Women's Rights.
The turning point came one day last October, when Kassem, possessed by Communist-fed suspicions, ordered "my son, my pupil, my brother" into exile as Ambassador to West Germany. Almost hysterical, Aref refused. He pulled his pistol out of the holster. Kassem grabbed his wrist, shouted: "What are you trying to do, Abdul Salam?" Aref sobbed: "I wanted to take my own life." Said Kassem: "I forgive you for this too. But you have to leave. You are splitting the country. I want to keep you away from evil people." Then he brought Aref a glass of milk, and in a late-night session argued his friend into going.
Three weeks later the unhappy Aref flew back from Europe unannounced, was arrested. In December feckless, ignorant Colonel Aref was sentenced to death by the People's Court on a charge of trying to assassinate the Premier. As far as outsiders know, he is still awaiting the last order to the firing squad.
The Diminishing Dictator. Aref's downfall marked the beginning of Kassem's break with Egypt's Nasser--a break that has split the Arab world wide open. Unable to dominate Kassem, Nasser set out to depose him by force, or, failing that, to isolate him from the rest of the Arab world. Punning on Kassem's name (which in Arabic means splitter), Nasser pilloried "Iraq's splitter" as the enemy of Arab brotherhood. Suddenly, too, the man who brought Soviet influence into the Middle East in his 1955 arms deal with Russia became vocally aware of the threat of Communist imperialism. Nasser went into a series of slanging matches with Khrushchev (TIME, March 30); last week, when the Arab League met in Beirut in an attempt to mediate the dispute between Nasser and Kassem, Cairo's representatives called on their fellow Arabs to join in a drive against Communism in the Arab world.
From some Arab nations Cairo's appeal got lip-service support. But true Middle East anti-Communist warriors, such as Jordan's King Hussein, declined to follow Nasser's lead, fearful that the dictator of the Nile's only real concern is with his diminishing prestige in the Arab world, that if he could once dispose of Kassem, his interest in fighting Communism might disappear again.
Riding the Storm. As Nasser steadily lost ground, Iraq's Communists steadily gained. Under Kassem's protection, Communist toughs smashed pro-Nasser demonstrations and captured unchallenged control of Baghdad's streets. Colonel Lutfi Tahir, a horse doctor, pro-Communist and brother to Kassem's aide became boss of Iraq's press, and Major Selim Fakhri, tagged by Western experts as a longtime party-liner, was made director of the government radio. Back from exile in the Soviet Union came a band of Kurdish Communists led by the famed "Red Mullah." Mustafa el Barzani.
Desperately, Iraq's Nasserites and anti-Communists sought to turn the tide. In September oldtime Iraqi Nationalist Rashid Ali el-Gailani (who ruled Iraq with the help of German fighter planes for a few wild days in 1941) joined with pro-Nasser officers in a plot against Kassem. In February six Cabinet ministers, all of them nationalists, resigned in mass protest against growing Communist influence on national policy. Last month, supported by Syrian-armed members of the powerful Shammar tribe, who poured in from Syria and western Iraq. Colonel Abdul Wahab Shawaf, commander of the Mosul garrison, prematurely flashed the signal for a revolt of army units in northern Iraq, and was crushed (TIME. March 23).
Each time Kassem rode out the storm, and each time the Communists turned it to their advantage. While Kassem tried and convicted Rashid Ali and 40 accomplices in secret, the People's Resistance militia stormed through Baghdad stopping cars, manhandling foreigners, searching citizens. All that the resignation of the nationalist ministers achieved was the creation of a reorganized Cabinet heavily loaded with members of the Communist-infiltrated National Democratic Party. And the Mosul revolt, which was bloodily stamped out by pro-Communist militia and Kurdish tribesmen from the hills around the city, left Kassem more dependent on the Reds than ever.
All along, Kassem had counted on army support to preserve his ultimate independence of the Communists. Now, his faith shaken, Kassem has begun to weaken that final prop. Of the original junta of 24 officers who overthrew Nuri's government, five have been purged. And more than 100 other senior officers have been retired or shifted away from key commands.
Independent Arm. Result is that today much of the machinery of Iraq's government is directly or indirectly in the hands of the Communists. The Economics Ministry is run by Communist-Liner Ibrahim Kubba, who recently signed a $137 million economic-aid agreement with Moscow, under which 80 Soviet technicians will soon arrive in Iraq to help build 15 Russian-financed factories. In the Education, Social Affairs and Defense ministries, "action committees," patterned on the classic Soviets of the Russian Revolution, have been formed to impose decisions on Kassem. And last month Iraq's Director General of National Guidance coolly told a U.S. reporter: "The anti-U.S. attitude of the Iraqi press is right." (The three Baghdad newspapers that occasionally printed non-Communist sentiments have long since been burned out by Red-led mobs.)
Of all the arms of Communist power in Iraq, none is more effective than the People's Court, which the Reds have virtually converted into an independent arm of government through which they focus pressure on Kassem. Presided over by Kassem's cousin, Colonel Fadhil Abbas Mahdawi, a willing tool of the Communists, the court stages televised nightly trials of "enemies of the regime," i.e., enemies of the Communist Party. Mahdawi is a suety, quick-witted ruffian--"Egypt has always had bad rulers. Cleopatra was a whore"--who holds court to extract confessions rather than dispense justice. Making up his own rules, treating the accused as already convicted, interrupting to make long and wildly irrelevant speeches, Mahdawi, with his four fellow judges, has already sentenced to death dozens of victims, including two former Premiers of Iraq.
One night three weeks ago Mahdawi's show--which is conducted in Iraq's former Hall of Parliament, with spectators occupying the former Deputies' benches and Mahdawi and his fellow judges lolling on the speaker's rostrum--put four airmen in the dock for taking part in the Mosul revolt. It was a gala evening, witnessed by TIME Correspondent William McHale. Two hours beforehand every seat was filled; hundreds of ticketholders were turned away. The highlights of the performance:
Prosecutor: Colonel Aref went to Damascus and plotted with Nasser to invite Kassem there so that Kassem might be assassinated when he landed at the airport. (Horrified gasps from the audience.) But our leader knew of this plot and rejected the invitation, and will reject it forever. (Stormy applause.)
Judge Mahdawi (interrupting): Yes, he will reject it, but when the Syrian people are emancipated [from the U.A.R.], we shall all be there.
Audience (in a rising screech): Kassem is a true leader! Long live, long live, long live!
The prosecutor, getting to the point, tells how a fifth airman was killed in the action in which the accused took part.
Mahdawi: May he rot in hell. (Loud laughter.)
Prosecutor (concluding): The prosecution, in the name of liberty, requests that the heads of these four be cut off because of their cooperation with Abdel Nasser, agent of American imperialism and enemy of the democratic republic.
Mahdawi: Nasser is a villain, despot, a vile President, a Pharaoh Ramses who could not break the will of the struggling Syrians. His newspapers are all servants of Dulles.
From the balcony comes the screech of a man's voice proclaiming a poem. Its refrain: "Hail to thee, Kassem, our jewel, defender of democracy, destroyer of our enemies!"
Mahdawi (to first accused): How do you plead?
Prisoner: Not guilty. (Laughter.)
Verdict of the court, after three more such pleas: death by firing squad. The executions were carried out one morning last week, watched by relatives who jeered and spat at the victims.
"Our Jewel." Even as they pressure Kassem, the Communists continue to build him up as a popular hero. And Kassem, nothing loath, plays to the hilt the part of the dedicated leader. A teetotaler and nonsmoker, he has not been more than a few miles out of Baghdad in nine months, works himself at a pace that would have sent most men to the hospital long since. Sleeping on a couch in his office, Kassem arises about 8:30, breakfasts on eggs and fruit, and works at his desk until lunch, which he takes in a metal mess tin in the nearby council room. At 3 he goes out for a tour through the city in his tan 1958 Chevrolet station wagon. He sits in the middle seat, with armed aides in front and behind. A Land Rover full of troops follows. At the gate a crowd swarms around his car to thrust petitions--for jobs, for property claims, or simply for money--at the open window. Then, as the mob screams "Kassem is our jewel!", the motor caravan heads for the small house in the outskirts where Kassem lived until the revolution. At the house Kassem plays briefly with his eight dogs, all of whom he calls "Lassie." But the main purpose of the visit is to take a bath; the Defense Ministry has no bathroom.
After this interlude, Kassem may drop in on his brother, a grain merchant, or, rarely, at an embassy reception. By 8 he is back at the office, and at 9 Cabinet meetings start, invariably to run on until 2 or 3 a.m. Afterward, Kassem frequently approaches a minister with the question: "Would you like some tea with milk?" This means that the Premier wants to talk over some particular problem for another hour. After a last round of talk with officers of his palace guard, Kassem finally turns in at 4 or 5 a.m.
New Status, New Problems. Months ago Western diplomats in Baghdad set up four checkpoints to measure Iraq's slide toward Communism: 1) abrogation of the Baghdad Pact; 2) purging of anti-Communist and pro-Nasser elements of the army; 3) execution of Aref and officials of the old regime; 4) distribution of arms to the People's Resistance militia. The first point has been passed, and Kassem is giving way on the second. But he is still holding out against Communist demands for Aref's execution. "Haste always ends in repentance, and we will not make haste," he said recently. And though Communist Party Secretary Salem Adil last week again called on the government to "arm the People's Resistance Force" as a protection against Nasser, Kassem has so far ignored such demands.
Most Western diplomats hold that if Kassem ever does give way on the arming of the People's Resistance Force, the point of no return will have been passed in Iraq. Some pessimistic observers argue that Kassem is already so much a prisoner of the Reds that it is only a matter of time--and not too much time--until that point is reached. In the face of this looming diplomatic and strategic disaster, the U.S. and British policy of hands off in Iraq seems at first glance negligent. In fact, it is the only policy open to the West. For even if Washington and London trusted Nasser enough to back him in his fight against Kassem, Western support would only further discredit Nasser in Iraqi eyes--and in the eyes of the whole Arab world. And any attempt that the West might make to bring direct pressure to bear on Kassem could only serve to drive him finally and utterly into the arms of the Communists.
Even as things now stand, Iraq marks a major Russian advance in the cold war. With the influence it now wields in Baghdad, the U.S.S.R. has achieved the major role it has so long sought in Middle Eastern affairs. But with that new status, Moscow has also acquired new problems. If the U.S.S.R. decides to push ahead with an attempt to establish an undisguised People's Democracy in Iraq, the Soviets must assume that they will alienate all other Arab nations, inherit the scapegoat position of "imperialist oppressors" that the Western powers have long occupied in Middle Eastern minds.
Converting Iraq into a satellite poses a serious economic problem: though the West could get along without Iraqi oil, Iraq could scarcely get along without Western markets for its oil unless Russia were prepared to buy it--and Russia has no real use for it. Yet should Moscow, because of these political and economic difficulties, order the Iraqi Communists to stop short of an all-out takeover, there is danger that the volatile Iraqi mob, which loves nothing so much as a winner, would begin to turn away from its Red heroes just as it has turned away from Nasser.
As they ponder these pros and cons, Russia's cold-war planners must also be acutely aware of another complicating factor. Abdul Karim Kassem, now the Communists' most useful front man in the Arab world, was once a most useful servant of Nuri asSaid. And so long as Kassem, lifelong conspirator and dissembler, keeps any of the keys of power in Iraq, there is always the chance that he may yet teach Russia a lesson that the West has learned to its sorrow--the lesson that events in the Middle East have their own momentum.
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