Amir Taheri: Saddam drops his chance of being a hero of pan-Arabism

Ever since Saddam Hussain was found in a hole near Tikrit seven months ago, pan-Arab circles have been abuzz with speculation as to what he might do in his trial. For years, pan-Arabism has been looking for a saviour. The fallen despot was supposed to play that role.

Last week, however, Saddam seemed to have blown his chances of becoming the new hero of pan-Arabism. In his arraignment he had 30 minutes, twice longer than Andy Warhol's proverbial period of fame, in which to market the new persona dreamed of by Arab nostalgics, including the 1500 lawyers who have volunteered to defend him.

Saddam's performance has been the subject of numerous amateur psychological analyses. One reporter noted the despot's "watery eyes, like an orphan", recalling the fact that Saddam had lost his father at an early age. Another reporter noted the "furtive glances" that Saddam cast around, interpreting this as a sign of "paranoia".

At some point in this process, Saddam will undergo psychiatric tests to establish whether or not he is mentally fit to stand trial. For the time being, it is the political aspect of Saddam's performance during the arraignment that is of interest. Saddam could have chosen one of three strategies.

He could have cast himself in the role of a sincere leader who has led his people into disaster as a result of erroneous decisions. He could have accepted responsibility and asked his people for pardon. This is the strategy that the late Egyptian leader Gamal Abdul-Nasser adopted in 1967 after he had led the Arabs into defeat in a war against Israel.

Nasser offered to resign and submit to the will of the people. The Egyptians loved his repentance and poured into the streets in their millions to urge him to stay. All was forgiven and Nasser ruled with authority until his death two years later. Saddam did not choose that strategy.

He claimed that he was "President of Iraq", and had no intention of admitting any mistake during decades of absolute rule. Instead he accused un-named Iraqis of having betrayed him, presumably meaning the armed forces that refused to fight for him.

The second strategy that Saddam might have chosen would have presented the Iraqi nation as a victim of foreign aggression. He would have then promoted himself as "Iraq personified", symbolising the nation's sufferings and hopes of deliverance.

This was the strategy adopted by the deposed Serbian despot Slobodan Milosevic during his trial at The Hague. As a result Milosevic has succeeded in maintaining part of his support base in Serbia while becoming an iconic figure for pan-Slavists.

Saddam did not choose that strategy either. Milosevic, when asked to state his address, had said: "The heart of every Serbian: man, woman and child." Saddam's answer to the same question was different: "Every Iraqi home is my residence."

Milosevic had claimed a link with every individual Serb. Saddam claimed ownership of every Iraqi's house. Milosevic's statement had been nexal and romantic; Saddam's was serial and baroque. Milosevic had presented himself as a primus inter pares of the Serb nation. Saddam propelled himself into a lofty isolation in which he stood above everyone.

Cult of personality

Obsessed by his cult of personality, Saddam was incapable of conceiving of the Iraqi nation as a subject of history rather an object of his will. He was like Louis XIV who claimed that "I am the state!" The third strategy that Saddam might have chosen would have been future-oriented.

This was used by Abdullah Ocalan, leader of the Kurdish Workers Party (PKK) during his trial in Turkey on charges of terrorism. Ocalan tried to relativise the crimes he was charged with by putting them in their "historic context".

He argued that the PKK had used terrorism in the context of a war against the Turkish republic, admitted that this had been a mistake, and offered to help change "the historic context". He invited his Turkish captors to join him in "looking ahead", and developing a strategy to address Kurdish grievances in "a new Turkey."

Ocalan had the courage of admitting that the15-year civil war had been a tragedy both for the Kurds and the Turkish nation as a whole. He did not ask to be released: even in prison he was ready to work for reconciliation. Saddam did not choose that strategy either.

He was not even prepared to recognise members of the new Iraqi leadership, including those in the interim government, as Iraqis, let alone offering to work with them in the broader interest of Iraq. During the arraignment, Saddam uttered no more than a few hundred words.

But these were sufficient to draw his political image. Rather than taking a statesman-like pose, Saddam went back to his days as a street fighter. The veneer of power was gone, revealing the Baathist militant who had tried to murder the military ruler Abdul-Karim Kassem.

Saddam had always been known for his street vocabulary and penchant for dirty jokes. In his arraignment he dug into that treasury to justify his invasion of Kuwait.

He described the Kuwaitis, supposed to be brother-Arabs, as "dogs". He then claimed that Kuwaitis had been buying Iraqi women on the streets for 10 dinars ($15). The Kuwait issue also exposed the lies that he had told to the United Nations for 13 years.

Under the 1991 ceasefire and 18 Security Council resolutions, Saddam had undertaken to abandon all claims against Kuwait. His parliament had passed a law guaranteeing respect for Kuwait's independence, sovereignty and territorial integrity.

During the arraignment, however, Saddam revealed that all that had been nothing but ploys to deceive the UN. "Kuwait belongs to Iraq, as everyone knows," he asserted. But even then one could not be certain whether Saddam was telling a lie to hide another lie.

At one point he said that Iraqi soldiers had been sent to Kuwait to "defend the honour of Iraq", as he had told his army at the time of the invasion in 1990. At another point, however, Saddam claimed that he ordered the invasion of Kuwait to keep his army busy, presumably to prevent it from staging a coup.

Now we know that he had not annexed Kuwait as a first step towards realising the dream of a unified Arab state, as he had told pan-Arabists in 1990. He went there to kill "the dogs" who bought Iraqi women, and to keep his army out of mischief inside Iraq. As for the mass murder of Iraqis in 1988, in the town of Halabja where thousands died, Saddam said he had "heard about it in the media."

Oh, yes? And what about hundreds of official documents that show that he not only knew about the genocide but had personally ordered it to "silence the evil Kurds for ever"?

Saddam appeared to be like the Bourbons who had learned nothing, forgotten nothing and forgiven nothing. Watching the footage of his arraignment one could not help feel that Edit Piaf's "Je ne regrette rien" ( I regret nothing) would have provided a suitable background music.

Here was a man in total denial, a Pinocchio-like politician who had lied to everyone for such a long time that he was incapable of understanding what was happening to him, let alone to a people he had led into so many tragedies.