THE GUILTY against Saddam Hussein this weekend is the equivalent of asking Mrs. Lincoln "well, besides that, how was the play?" The verdict, however justified, seemed like theater in the midst of tragedy.
Much of the anticipation, if there was any, about the verdict had centered around the timing. Last month, the US-back special tribunal announced that it was delaying the announcement until Nov. 5, two days shy of today's elections in the United States.
President Bush's remarks heralding the verdict seemed to some to be evidence that the administration would use it for political purposes. The administration probably hopes that this event, like Hussein's capture or the death of Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, will symbolize some closure for Iraqis and mark a much-needed "success" for the US war effort.
Critics had accused the administration of playing with the calendar, a critique not without merit given past administration conduct, starting with the Iraq war authorization vote being held so close to Bush's first midterm election in 2002.
What critics of this new time frame seemed to miss was just how inconsequential the verdict is, given the nature of Iraq today. The verdict itself will provide no closure, for either the Iraqis or the Americans. The timing should instead remind voters how little has been accomplished in Iraq after Hussein.
This trial has been exceptionally unique, bordering on the bizarre. From a legal perspective, according to the Library of Congress, it is the only time that a United Nations member state, acting alone, has brought criminal charges in a domestic court under international law — in this case, genocide, war crimes, and crimes against humanity.
In practice, the case has teetered on crises since its inception. Marred by its ties to the United States, with a bevy of American legal advisers, the trial has often been good theater, with a hint of justice.
Hussein has bullied, judges have been replaced, Iraqi lawyers have been killed, and an entire defense team has walked away. Despite descriptions by US officials that this proves an independent judiciary in Iraq, the frequent changes of personnel — including ensuring judges who were sympathetic to the prosecution — suggest the opposite. And all this has been done with a war being waged in the background.
With this one move, assisted if not prodded by the United States, Iraq has sought to punish its former leader in the midst of chaos. Other nations have chosen different paths. South Africa chose reconciliation tribunals — tell the truth of your crimes, and you shall be forgiven — as a way to unify the country after apartheid. World War II genocidal crimes, as well as recent cases against such notables as Slobodan Milosevic, were held before international courts that brought the world's condemnation in an objective setting, often freed from the defendant's geographic identity.
The purpose of such trials is to provide both punishment and some form of closure. Iraq only got the first. Had the post-Hussein transition gone smoothly, perhaps that might have been a valid approach.
Iraqis may have been free to blame the atrocities of the last 30 years on one man and his entourage, without ever fully coming to terms with the legacy of their own past. But, that has not been the case. Whether the sectarian violence is a civil war or not, no solace will be gained for a nation suffering under an entirely different form of hatred — not from one man, but from their own people.
So while the US administration hopes that the verdict, so close to the election, will provide some closure, it is — best-case scenario — likely to have no bearing on the violence in Iraq, and, worst case, lead to increased violence for Iraqis and US forces once the post-Hussein verdict curfews are lifted. Americans swayed by the notion of Hussein facing execution ought to remember that every attempt at closure in Iraq by this administration — from the Hussein statue falling, to the proclamation of "mission accomplished," to elections — has come up short. The war continues.
More than 2,300 US troops have died since Hussein was captured. Mission accomplished simply will not come with a conviction, however close to the election.
Juliette Kayyem, a former member of the National Commission on Terrorism, is a lecturer in public policy with the Belfer Center at Harvard University's Kennedy School of Government. She is coauthor of "Protecting Liberty in an Age of Terrorism."
Kayyem, Juliette. “No Closure in Iraq.” The Boston Globe, November 7, 2006