The Presidency

By Hugh Sidey

All week long George Bush and his council of war pondered the bizarre convulsions of the mind of Saddam Hussein and confessed bafflement. There was the cream of the Iraqi air force parked in Iran, perhaps from the desperate idea held by Saddam that he would someday rise to fight again. There were the thousands of tanks buried in the sands of Kuwait, gaining some momentary protection from bombing but sacrificing mobility. "They are pillboxes, not tanks," said one of Bush's advisers.

Then came the tragic bombing of Iraqi civilians, an event the White House still believes was a grisly ploy for world sympathy. The broadcast cease-fire plan, freighted with heretofore rejected conditions, was branded a "cruel hoax" by Bush. In the quiet of Kennebunkport, Me., for a long weekend, an angry Bush signaled all those around him and scores of others at the end of his phone lines that the war goes on.

The President carries war's grim box score around in his head. So when he sat down to hear the report from the gulf by his two top military advisers, Secretary of Defense Dick Cheney and General Colin Powell, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, he wanted more than statistics to guide him into the storm that is coming on the ground.

"I know the numbers, sorties flown, bombs dropped," he said to the advisers assembled on the flowered-damask sofas in the Yellow Oval Room on the second floor of the White House. Maps and charts were on easels around the men. Bush hardly looked. "What does Norman ((gulf Commander Schwarzkopf)) think about the enemy? How strong are they?"

The precise answers the President got in that meeting were dropped down this Administration's efficient black hole of secrecy. But Bush, striding back to the Oval Office downstairs, paused in the winter Rose Garden and let the world know about his unshakable confidence in his commanders and the progress of the battle. "I am very pleased with the people that are running the war . . . I feel much better after this briefing . . . I have total confidence we are on the right path." And there was little change 10 to 12 hours later, when Iraqi civilian casualties became an issue. Bush urged caution on his men, a U.S. effort to counter Iraqi propaganda but not slacken the use of American force against military targets.

The countdown runs on in the fearful journey toward ground combat. It could be weeks, or hours, away. Some experts on the Middle East told Bush a few days ago that Saddam could be plotting one huge military surge designed to try to kill 30,000 or more coalition soldiers. If successful, they said, Saddam might then declare victory and pull out of Kuwait.

Arrayed against that argument is the steady testimony from military analysts that U.S. superiority in equipment and troops will manifest itself on the ground as it did in the air. His battle advisers have told Bush they do not believe Saddam has any fighting units left that can inflict huge losses on allied forces, or enough biological, chemical or conventional weapons. Perhaps propaganda is all that is left in the Iraqi arsenal.

Bush has created his own pantheon of military heroes, relishing the performances in the war and on television of men like Schwarzkopf, Marine Lieut. General Walter Boomer and Air Force Chief of Staff Merrill McPeak. So far, those commanders have been able to do just what they promised, Bush has said admiringly in his planning sessions. Yet, says one of the President's close counselors, "the President is afraid to let himself believe these assessments."

Domestic pollsters have reported to Bush that a rise in U.S. casualties could quickly erode public support for the war. Bush is also worried about a possible softening of resolve among Arab allies and about how long Israel will wait before striking back from the Scud attacks. Putting the pieces together in this jagged and frenzied puzzle is one of the toughest challenges any modern President has faced.

In fact, Bush made the decision to fight on the ground back in November when he doubled the desert forces, surprising even some of his generals. He wanted "an offensive option" and understood that, barring some miraculous collapse or an Iraqi withdrawal, such an option would necessarily involve ground assaults. When the ground war is joined, Bush's generals have told him, it must be with full power and fury to assure victory. That will mean mounting casualties, which might diminish his political base. The military men insist that at such a point casualties must be ignored. Bush is fundamentally a political animal, and he knows that in the long run he must have the nation behind him. Timing has become almost everything. Swift, decisive action is imperative. Not since World War II has the world waited and watched for such a grimly glorious bugle call.