By Mohamed Hassanein Heikal As I followed recent Security Council meetings, another, much earlier, meeting kept springing to mind. It lasted three hours and took place in May 1967 on Egypt's Mediterranean coast at El-Alamein. Its protagonist was Field Marshal Montgomery, who had attached the name of that city to his official title, in reference to his monumental victory in the desert war against the German Afrika Corps, led by Field Marshal Erwin Rommel. Montgomery was on a 10-day tour commemorating the 25th anniversary of his victory. The tour was organised by Sir Dennis Hamilton, of The Sunday Times. Al-Ahram supported the idea enthusiastically and, as editor-in chief, I helped with arrangements on the Egyptian side. "Monty" had endless requests, the first being that he wanted four of his former senior staff with him. On the afternoon of 9 May 1967, the field marshal, having just completed an exhausting tour of his front via helicopter, army vehicles and at least two hours on foot, invited us all to a quiet cup of tea on the beach. I think it was meant as a gesture to make up for the strain of the day, as well as for a momentary flash of dismay. He had spotted the steel rigging of a recently discovered oil well standing precisely on the spot of his command post and remarked acerbically that no one had the right to change the terrain of his battle as he recalled it and as it went down in history. I had tried to tell him that oil discoveries were vital to the Egyptian people, but I do not believe he was convinced. On the beach, in front of the villa where he was staying, Montgomery appeared to make a conscious effort to show us another side of his personality, and started to hold forth. We were an audience of six -- the four generals, Hamilton and myself -- and he was now in top form. He spoke at length on his German adversary, saying: "Poor Rommel. He was starving for fuel for his tanks, and little did he know that entire fields of oil were sleeping beneath the layers of earth over which they were rolling." He recalled that Winston Churchill, in his zeal for a victory in the desert war, nearly, "drove his commanders around the bend with his pressures on them". Eventually, the conversation turned to the idea of war. Montgomery outlined, very explicitly, his four essential prerequisites for going to war. In light of their bearing on the situation today, I would like to focus attention on them. First, he said, there had to exist a clear objective that was desirable to realise nationally. Second, there had to be the means, and the will, to realise this objective militarily. Third was the ability to ground the recourse to force legally. Finally, there had to be the ability to defend that course of action at home and abroad, morally. I was struck to have heard these four points from a professional soldier, and replied that 50 per cent of the factors he mentioned could be said to concern strategy and 50 per cent ethics. That, Monty answered, was because, "Victory in war requires, even more than arms, that the people who are making war believe in what they are doing to the degree that they will be prepared to sacrifice themselves and that others accept its legal and moral legitimacy to the extent that will guarantee their support." Montgomery's four principles have been coming back to me with a pressing urgency, and I believe that millions like me may feel compelled to consider how the prospect of war in Iraq measures up to them. First, the world is threatened with a war without a clear objective. The conjectures on this subject have been confused and contradictory. There is the determination to eliminate Iraq's weapons of mass destruction (even though the UN weapons inspectors have been unable to find a trace of such weapons on the ground, probably because there are none left to be found); to replace the regime of Saddam Hussein (an aim that does not fall to the US by some holy writ); and to rescue the people of Iraq from tyranny (a condition not confined to the borders of Iraq, as it is endemic to the Third World and Arab world, in particular, and extends in an ominous continuum from Jakarta to Casablanca). Or the aim might be to tighten control over the most important sources of oil in the world (a dangerous game that must alert the suspicions of the entire industrialised world and raise the spectre of a conflict charged with untold possibilities); or to create a new American empire and make a grab for the territorial legacy of the old European empires in one go -- although US leaders hotly deny they have imperial ambitions. It would hardly be fitting for a country founded on the principle of freedom to monopolise control over the entire world, its land and seas and the resources of both. A war against Iraq clearly does not meet Montgomery's second condition, which is that it should not be beyond the means of those who desire war -- in this case the US. Taking funding alone, most estimates put the direct costs of war against Iraq at between $120 billion and $200 billion. The previous war against Iraq, fought to liberate Kuwait, totalled some $70bn. But Kuwait, Saudi Arabia and the other Gulf countries footed much of the bill because their security was at risk. This time, although Kuwait may be ready to participate, the rest of the former contributors are not. On the other hand, some parties are ready with demands for financial dues they want paid up front, Turkey heading the list. If we consider that the direct costs of battle are not all the costs, and that such calculations are not all the calculations entailed in war, the problem assumes enormous proportions. As for Montgomery's third condition, events in the Security Council raise concerns over the legal justification for war and the huge sacrifice involved. The attitude of US Secretary of State Colin Powell -- a man noted for his "moderation" -- makes us wonder whether US decision-makers even understand the spirit of the law. In his address to the Security Council on 14 February, Powell seemed to be telling delegates that he had persuaded president Bush to go the way of the UN, rather than go to war unilaterally. He had thought the UN would support him, he continued, but it had let him down by refusing to sanction a war against Iraq. "The US will go to war anyway, with or without a Security Council resolution and regardless of whether others like it or not," he said. Such logic defies the scantiest understanding of the spirit, let alone the text, of the law. Finally, the massive anti-war demonstrations that swept the major capitals of the world made it abundantly clear that the world is not "morally" convinced that it is time to take up arms. Joschka Fischer, the German foreign minister, expressed the universal mood succinctly in a Security Council meeting last month when he protested angrily to the US defence secretary, Donald Rumsfeld: "You have to make the case in a democracy. Excuse me, I'm not convinced," and added: "This is the problem, you can't go to the public when you don't believe in this." And, indeed, it is difficult to convince the world, politically, militarily, legally and morally, of the validity of Washington's accusation, based on testimony that cannot be substantiated, and the zealotry of an American president angered (and rightfully so) by the events in New York on 11 September 2001. Having cast the blame on Al- Qa'eda, Bush suddenly swerved against Iraq, turning his anger on France, Germany and Sweden for failing to support his demand to punish Baghdad, and rebuked the rest of the world for being blindly incapable of seeing what he can see, and lacking the courage that he alone possesses, along with his unparalleled perspicacity and faultless judgment. A final observation. There has been a lot of talk over recent years about the clash of civilisations and the end of history. Fortunately, the vehement anti-war movement across the globe has revealed that there exists one pool of human civilisation, shaped by many and diverse human cultures. Herein lies the secret of its richness. In addition, the debates in the Security Council have revealed, even if only in the code of diplomatic innuendo, an absolute refusal to allow one people to dominate the world, and that history has not yet reached an end. * The above article was published in the British daily, The Guardian, on 7 March, and is reprinted here with permission of the author.
