An American officer offers an explosive memoir from inside coalition headquarters in Baghdad. With raw honesty and exhilarating detail, Tom Mowle shares how policy and strategy were built at a time when it still felt like the US could win the Iraq War.
When Tom Mowle volunteered to go to Iraq in 2004 to help shape American strategy, he left behind a comfortable life as a noncombat junior officer and a professor at the US Air Force Academy. In Chaos in the Green Zone, he relives the chaos and absurdity of war in a way that recalls Joseph Heller’s classic novel Catch-22.
Mowle vividly depicts the frenetic cycle of activity at a wartime forward headquarters, where the enemy often dictated the schedule of events, fifteen hours a day, seven days a week. Important tasks were set aside for urgent distractions; hard deadlines constrained critical thinking and well-balanced decisions. Frequent indirect fire attacks, the deaths of colleagues, heat-induced illnesses, and personality conflicts thickened the fog of war.
Amid this chaos in an unfamiliar land, Tom wrestled with deeply human issues, including his troubled marriage, his daughter’s health, and his own career prospects. Through it all, he sought to find meaning through service despite creeping skepticism about the mission at hand.
Chaos in the Green Zone provides keen insights about Iraqi political dynamics and shows how collective ignorance, toxic optimism, and partisan considerations affected coalition decision making. The result was twenty years of dysfunctional Iraqi politics, increased Iranian influence in the Middle East, and many unnecessary Iraqi and American deaths.
This honest memoir, drawn from his original wartime diaries and other materials, is as thrilling as it is insightful. It is a must-read for anyone wanting to see what it was like to serve as a high-level strategist in Iraq and for anyone wondering how we wound up where we are today.
From roughly 2005 to 2010, I had posted in my office a picture from a Dead C EP, showing a blurry picture of a running militant, and the caption line, "Relax, Fallujah, hell has come." A lot more people paid attention to George W. Bush's overblown preventive war on Iraq in March 2003, and the year of Paul Bremer-led "de-Baathification" that came afterward. But I found myself obsessed with the post-"Mission Accomplished" world of Sunni and Shia militia fighting for space in an Iraq still under U.S. occupation.
Tom Mowle's new book is one of the few nonfiction reviews of that post-shock-and-awe realm before American troops finally began the drawdown (only to be re-inserted with the Petraeus surge late in the decade). Mowle was an Air Force Academy instructor who took a wild gamble on a four-month study of militias and election trends conducted inside the Green Zone, a realm around the expanded parameters of the U.S. embassy that was jokingly called a gated community by its residents and its observers.
Mowle often gets down in the weeds in considering different options of U.S. election support, when to conduct or hold back on military actions in cities like Fallukah, and what it all tells us about the utility of the initial invasion. If he had stuck with daily descriptions of rapidly-changing missions, it might have been a little turgid. But Mowle knows how to enliven the chronology with asides that discuss the war's own timeline, and even a few hints at what was going on with his family on the homefront. Add to that his descriptions of how those in the Green Zone accomplished simple daily chores and pleasantries like doing laundry, shopping, and playing poker, and the book becomes a lively and tight-focus study of the Iraq war's aftermath.
Mowle makes clear his skepticism about the Bush, Rumsfeld, and Powell excuses for getting involved with preventive war to begin with. He says that once you wage that kind of invasion, and combine it with the Paul Bremer lack of an exit ramp for Ba'ath officials who are suddenly declared useless, there is no viable way for U.S. soldiers and officials to do much besides damage limitation. He talks about preparing constantly-changing reports and studies for an unnamed two-star general and a fanatic senior officer Mowle calls Col. Vortex, and how he has to stick with the assumptions of limited actions one can take when the purpose of the war was so ill-defined to begin with (shades of Iran 2026). Mowle and the group of accomplished civilians and uniformed officers he works with have to hammer at the limitation points again and again, in the face of Pentagon and State Department officials who do not want to hear them. Toward the end of the book, he admits that "These failures of imagination were tied to a sort of failure of despair. Time after time, we assumed there was reason to hope." That qoute could describe any number of scenarios in foreign policy, economic policy, environmental policy, or just about anything else in our hope-deprived 21st century.
Perhaps the only reason I didn't award the book a full five stars was simply because its tight focus might not be broad enough for those looking for comprehensive studies of the war - though for those who are interested in the occupation-era militia and elections, this is an ideal work. I thought of my usual frustrations with how historical topics get chosen by authors - "What? Another rehash of Gettysburg or Sherman's March? Why not give a new story of Pres. James Garfield's assassination?" (A publisher might well retort that the reading public at large usually is not interested in the history in the shadows, and wants the same old crap, spooned out time after time.) Leave the shock and awe to those who want to relive March 2003 - I prefer the eerie, somewhat hidden tales of Samarra and Fallujah, and Mowle has given us a look at the events from inside the Green Zone.