|
(Original Source: The New Republic)
By Lawrence F. Kaplan
December 24, 2001
Asked in a recent Washington Post interview whether the United States had been pressuring Israel at the behest of Saudi Arabia, Secretary of State Colin Powell responded, "we are not doing this because we have an obligation to pay off one side or another." Powell got it half-right. We have no obligation to the Saudis. But we've been paying them off nonetheless. And, until the terror bombings in Jerusalem and Haifa two weeks ago, it looked like Israel would be the one to foot the bill.
According to popular wisdom, Riyadh's leverage over the Bush administration's Israel policy derives from the events of September 11--the price Washington pays for maintaining its vaunted "coalition." But, in truth, the Saudis have been lobbying the Bush administration to turn its back on the Jewish state since its first day in office. The very next day, in fact, King Fahd's cabinet issued a statement urging the new president "to press the Israeli side to implement international resolutions, stop procrastinating, lift the blockade, and put a halt to the bloodshed." And they had reason to believe he would. Having converted their Gulf war contacts into business contacts, the men who guided foreign policy in Bush I (and who, it was assumed, would help do the same in Bush II) boast unusually close relations with the Saudis. The elder Bush, for example, decamped for the Carlyle Group, a Washington investment firm favored by Saudi elites—including the bin Laden family, with whom Bush Sr. has met twice.
During his first months in office, however, W. defied expectations. Far from pressing the Israelis, the president enshrined in official policy his campaign pledge of unconditional support for Israel—a stance not particularly well received by Saudi Arabia's potentates. As a result, Crown Prince Abdullah still has yet to accept a standing invitation from Bush to visit Washington. The president, then, has found himself in a bind: A staunch supporter of the Jewish state, his administration has nonetheless gone to excruciating lengths not to offend a regime that would prefer that state never existed. In April, for instance, when Israeli soldiers fired on a convoy of Palestinian officials, Yasir Arafat called Abdullah, who called Prince Bandar, the monarchy's man in Washington and Colin Powell's former squash partner. Bander, in turn, phoned Dick Cheney. And, within an hour, Powell was upbraiding Ariel Sharon on the phone. (The Egyptians complain about Israel just as loudly as the Saudis, but they're relegated to official channels.) Then, in response to further Saudi complaints, Bush dispatched Powell on a peacemaking mission to Israel in June.
Still, Riyadh wasn't happy. In fact, that very same month, Saudi anger boiled over. In a June meeting that set the stage for special envoy Anthony Zinni's current stay in the region, Powell met with Abdullah in Paris, where, according to a senior administration official, "[Powell] got the full treatment—‘appoint an envoy, recognize [Palestinian] statehood, speak out, do this, do that.'" At about the same time, U.S. ambassadors throughout the Arab world began warning Foggy Bottom that the Saudis meant business: Washington must either step up its mediation, they cautioned, or risk a breach with Riyadh.
Poppy's national security adviser Brent Scowcroft—a vocal champion of the Saudis who has since been installed as a director of Pennzoil and Qualcomm, firms heavily invested in Riyadh—chimed in, warning that America's Arab friends were "deeply disappointed with this administration and its failure to do something to moderate the attitude of Israel." Two weeks later, Scowcroft, Bush pere, and the president himself repaired to Kennebunkport. There the former president did something unprecedented. With the current president apparently in the room, George Sr. picked up the phone, called Abdullah, and assured him that Bush Jr.'s "heart is in the right place" and that he could be counted on "to do the right thing."
But the Saudis still weren't convinced. During July and August, Abdullah sent Bush several letters, each more shrill than the last, beseeching the president to "pull the reins on Mr. Sharon," as an Abdullah spokesman describes the correspondence. According to a White House adviser, one of these letters threatened a return to the "summer of 1973," a reference to the Arab front that united against Israel prior to the Yom Kippur War. Another, reported The Wall Street Journal, warned, "We are at a crossroads. It is time for the United States and Saudi Arabia to look at their separate interests. Those governments that don't feel the pulse of the people and respond to it will suffer the fate of the Shah of Iran." It was this threat, received in late August, that finally prompted the administration to reverse course and, in the first week of September, to convene a principals meeting at which Saudi discontent was explicitly tied to the launching of a peace initiative. Powell and CIA Director George Tenet urged the president to meet with Arafat at the United Nations and recommended that Powell deliver an address endorsing a Palestinian state—an address that was even then being drafted by State Department peace processor Aaron Miller. The administration would then follow up with the dispatch of a special envoy to Israel. Bush agreed with the idea and, for good measure, sent the Saudis a letter, which, according to Foreign Minister Prince Saud Faisal, indicated "that the United States had come to a full realization that it was time for a new effort."
Then came September 11. Given that 15 of the hijackers were Saudi, one might have expected the monarchy to be somewhat chastened. Far from it. "After September 11," a senior administration official explains, "[the Saudis] just wanted to change the topic from themselves. So they turned the volume up even louder." Yet, fearful of appearing to reward terrorism, the White House postponed Powell's speech. Even so, Bush publicly declared his support for a Palestinian state and declared that "the world ought to applaud" Arafat "for trying to control radical elements." Until November the administration also resisted placing Hamas on its list of newly sanctioned terrorist groups. And the State Department, echoing the Saudi contention that such groups were merely "resisting occupation," said it now distinguished between terrorism based on "political issues" (violence directed against Israelis) and terrorism that seeks to "destroy societies" (violence directed against Americans).
None of this, however, seemed to make the slightest impression on the Saudis. Indeed, in a November 9 interview with The New York Times, Foreign Minister Saud Faisal complained that he was "angrily frustrated" with the younger Bush, whose stance on the peace process "would make a sane man go mad." A week later, under pressure from the Saudis as well as Powell, Bush agreed to revive the initiative. It was decided that Powell would give his speech on November 19 at the University of Kentucky. But exactly what he planned to say remained the object of bitter disagreement, with Pentagon officials—including Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld—and the White House political staff questioning the wisdom of a renewed Middle East initiative. Bush himself tempered some of Powell's language and Israeli officials even offered suggestions. Nonetheless, Powell did deliver the speech, which demanded that "the occupation must end." He also announced the appointment of General Anthony Zinni as his special envoy to the region, a choice Israeli officials suspect was made with the Saudis in mind. (Zinni, the former chief of American forces in the Middle East—excluding Israel—maintains exceptionally close ties to the Saudi royal family, who call the general "our commander" and go falcon hunting with him.) And Assistant Secretary of State for Near East Affairs William Burns assured the Saudis that Zinni would remain in the region until "progress" was made.
Arafat, for one, was pleased, thanking King Fahd in Riyadh one week later for playing "an active role in moving the U.S. position toward a Palestinian state." And Saudi Prince Alawaleed exulted that "Washington is doing exactly what we asked for." But his fellow princes weren't so sure. "The fact that Powell asks Palestinian President Yasser Arafat to make an effort to stop the violence in Palestine is disappointing and impossible to satisfy," Okaz, an official Saudi newspaper, commented the day after the speech. "[The Saudis] thought the speech was soft," an administration official said a few days later, "and they're still calling."
But no amount of Saudi griping could overcome what happened next. The Palestinians welcomed Zinni to the region with a parade of suicide bombers, who, in the space of one day, killed 25 Israelis. As a result, the former general's mission effectively ended before it began, wasting the political capital the Bush administration had expended at Saudi behest. And since the attacks, members of the White House national security team claim Bush has lost whatever little trust he once possessed in Arafat. National security adviser Condoleezza Rice and her deputy, Stephen Hadley, have also turned squarely against the Palestinian leader. At a meeting in the aftermath of the attacks, they asked how the United States would know if Arafat was upholding his pledge to clamp down on terrorism. The answer came back: when that clampdown prompts internecine violence on the Palestinian street, a standard that has since become an unofficial barometer for measuring Arafat's sincerity. Even Powell and Burns were said to be livid at the Palestinian leader. In his meeting with Sharon the day after the attacks, Bush, according to Israeli officials, said Israel could take whatever action it deemed necessary, short of ousting Arafat and dismantling the Palestinian Authority. As for the Saudis, a senior administration official claims Bush "was already chafing at the complaints, and ... he won't be inclined to take their advice again any time soon."
But how soon is "any time soon"? This week the Saudi foreign minister met with Bush again, ostensibly to be reminded what steps his country must take to crack down on terror. Instead he ended up reminding the president what steps must be taken to crack down on Israel. Nor have administration officials tempered their public—and phony—exultations about "across the board" Saudi cooperation in the war against terror. National Security Council Senior Director for Near East Affairs Bruce Reidel, who has revealed himself to be a much closer friend to the Saudis than to the Israelis, will be stepping down later this month. Yet administration officials say the candidates most likely to replace him—Ambassador to Yemen Barbara Bodine and former Deputy Assistant Secretary for Defense Alina Romanowski—may prove even less supportive of the Jewish state. The Israelis also worry that, as soon as the violence abates or Arafat takes cosmetic steps to restrain Palestinian terrorists, the administration will heed Saudi counsel once more. Of course, the president could always follow his own instincts instead. They've certainly proved far superior to his father's, not to mention the rogues whispering in his ear.
|