Dramatic Prose for Drastic Mistakes

The third book in prominent political journalist Bob Woodward's Bush at War series, titled State of Denial, was ushered into early release this October due to an unusually high preorder demand on publisher Simon & Schuster. The first two books in Woodward's report, Bush at War (2002) and Plan of Attack (2004), dealt with the war in Afghanistan and the decisions leading up to the invasion of Iraq, respectively. They came under the scrutiny of both literary and political critics due to their dramatized style and pointed allegations about various members of the Bush administration. In State of Denial, Woodward picks up where he left off-with Bush outlining naively simple humanitarian and political goals for a post-war Iraq, declaring war, and then struggling to reconcile his administration's original plans with the reality of Iraq's true condition following U.S. attack.

What makes State of Denial a stronger book than the first two, at least in the beginning, is the even-handed approach Woodward takes in distributing the blame for how the U.S. got entrenched in the quagmire that is Iraq. Perhaps trying to avoid more controversy, Woodward backs off from his original assertion, stated in Plan of Attack, that Bush came into office with a vendetta against Saddam Hussein and had designs to force him from power practically from day one as commander-in-chief. Instead, Woodward paints a more facile picture of Bush, portraying him as a politician well aware that he doesn't have "any idea about foreign affairs," as Bush reportedly admitted to Condoleezza Rice before announcing his bid for presidency. Like a snowshoe, instead of placing the weight of the burden squarely on any individual, State of Denial proceeds to distribute blame for the implications of such a statement across the Bush administration. Just as Rice should have heeded this and other warning signs, former Deputy Secretary of State Richard L. Armitage thought from the beginning that Bush was ill-suited to be president, since Bush not only had "a dreadful lack of experience" in general, but he did not understand "the implications of the United States as a world power."

Furthermore, Woodward seems to suggest that the factors leading up to the invasion of Iraq were beyond the control of any single human being. He gives a sweeping who's who of the National Security Council, the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and the State and Defense departments, complete with acutely precise observations about individuals' personalities, political histories, and shortcomings. These are written in the classically indulgent and borderline-fictionalized Woodward style. Donald Rumsfeld's persona comes under fire in particular, but not before he is compared to a fictional Cold War British Intelligence chief from a John le Carre novel. Woodward uses these descriptions to offer a vivid portrayal of the Bush administration as a complete mess, a jumble of egos and private political agendas that leads to a complete breakdown of communication. The sometimes ominous actions and words of these figures allow Woodward to lend an eerie fatalistic flavor to the impending invasion.

Woodward also describes the steps taken by the Bush administration to prepare for the management of post-war Iraq. They seem to do an alright job, taking humanitarian concerns into account as they stockpile food, tents, and water for the predicted displacement of up to 2 million Iraqi citizens. From two months before the invasion through its start, the government quietly moves money to the United Nations and other nongovernmental aid organizations and plans the "face" of the interim government they intend to establish in the months immediately following the war. They seem to show consideration and understanding of the Iraqi political climate, taking all religious factions into account and recognizing the need for Shiite, Sunni, and Christian representation.

Meanwhile, over in Iraq, Major General Spider Marks, who was later put in charge of the invading U.S. ground forces, cannot find any evidence of weapons of mass destruction. Woodward injects passages from Marks' diary into the text, gradually foiling the efforts of Bush and his policy makers back in the U.S., and making the State department and even Bush seem ridiculously ignorant. As Marks' journal entries get increasingly frantic, the overall situation in Iraq deteriorates as well. He writes that, though "the worst-case scenarios [the Bush Administration] had anticipated hadn't happened: oil fires, displaced people, refugees, epidemics, mass casualties from chemical warfare ... in many ways the problems [in Iraq] were more insidious because they were so widespread and deep." Woodward does a good job of delineating this deterioration, but his lengthy descriptions of the State and Defense department meetings, like the rest of the book, take up too much space considering how little new information they reveal.

Finally, as history attests, Bush and his administration find themselves deeply entrenched in a war that is far more complex than they had anticipated. As the title State of Denial implies, Woodward believes that it is from this point on that Bush can be accused of collusion or wrongdoing with respect to the war. It's not really Bush's fault that we got into this mess, Woodward seems to say, but he was certainly not qualified to handle it, and his denial of this fact is portrayed as nothing short of banal evil.