The Benn Diaries: 1940-1990 (117 page)

Anyway, we got into the car and had a candid talk. Dr Zubaydi asked if there were many matters I would like to discuss. So I took my opportunity and said, ‘There is great anxiety in Britain about the Kurds. I know you have given them a lot of autonomy, but this is a problem. There is great anxiety about human rights.’ He looked a bit uncomfortable, but at least I did raise these matters. I added, ‘But I don’t want to raise this now, because the central question is peace.’

We drove through Baghdad, on a circuitous route, and finally we came to a line of ordinary-looking little villas and drove into the front garden of one. This was where I was to meet the President. It reminded me of the villa at which I had met Rajiv Gandhi last year but without the three encampments and barbed wire.

There was a gathering of people in the waiting room – Tariq Aziz, the Foreign Minister; Dr Sa’doon Hammadi, whom I had met yesterday; Mr Latif Jassim, the Minister of Culture and Information; Hamid Yousif Hammadi, the President’s Private Secretary, who apparently has Cabinet rank; Muhsin Khalil, the press secretary; Sa’doon Zubaydi, the chief interpreter; and two other aides.

The Foreign Minister asked about John Major and said, ‘I met him a couple of years ago in Geneva and I found him a good listener. I knew Carrington before and I didn’t find him very helpful’ – which didn’t surprise me. I thought that was an indication that they would like better relations with the British Government.

At about 10.15 we were ushered into a room furnished with blue curtains and seats, with flowers on the table, and two television cameras and photographers. There was Saddam Hussein dressed in uniform, and I said, ‘Salaam Alaikum’, and he said, ‘Wa Alaikum a Salaam’; at least I remembered that. We sat down, and when the cameras were on us I didn’t
know whether we were supposed to start speaking, so it was a bit awkward for a moment. Anyway, I thanked him for inviting me.

I began by saying that I was very conscious that between the Tigris and the Euphrates was the cradle of world civilisation, so that I was coming to the source of my own civilisation.

Then I said, ‘I bring you messages of peace’, and I placed the papers I had brought with me on the table – telegrams I had received from Nelson Mandela, Willy Brandt, Ron Dellums, Papandreou, and so on. ‘I have also brought some letters, Mr President, that were sent to me in London with the request to give them to you.’ (These were personal pleas from relatives of hostages to Saddam.)

‘May I say a personal word,’ I continued. ‘I come from a family that for a long time has supported the Arab nation. My father was a Secretary of State in 1945 and worked to bring about the evacuation of the British base in Tel El-Kebir. I opposed the Suez War and participated in big demonstrations, like now.

‘My little grandson, James, who is six, asked me the other day, “Dan-Dan” (which is what he calls me), “are you in favour of war?” I said, “No, James, I am not.” “Does Saddam Hussein want a war?” I said, “No, he does not.” So James said, “I understand now why he invited you to Baghdad.”’

They all smiled.

I went on, ‘But you know my position. May I speak frankly?’

‘Yes.’

‘I think the time has come for a major new Iraqi peace initiative.

‘I would like to turn to the case for restoring free movement to the foreign residents now in Iraq. The holding of these residents is no protection against war, and indeed the American and British governments are using the fact that you are holding them as arguments for their policy, which is one reason why the British Government have refused to give me help on my visit. There is a special problem of the foreign residents in Kuwait who do want to see Kuwait liberated and want to protect their Kuwaiti friends.

‘What is needed is a historic statement by the Iraqi Government that all residents can come and go freely. They would all be ambassadors for peace – which would transform the political situation, reaffirm the traditional reputation of the Arabs for hospitality, and open the way to peace talks. And I hope I may take our people home with me.’

I should add that he had said he thought there was a complex conspiracy between the Americans, the Kuwaitis, the Israelis and the Saudis, and that actually the Americans had been paid money by the Saudis to come in and protect the Saudi royal family. He asked if I thought the Americans would be there if the costs weren’t being paid by Kuwait and Saudi Arabia.

I said, ‘We must get off the war machine and on to the peace process, and I think it would be very, very helpful if there was anything you could say, Mr
President, that indicated your long-term perspective for peace. Today is the crisis, tomorrow the war, but there is a day after.’

I then told the story (a dangerous story to tell because emotion overcomes me) about the old lady of seventy-seven from Arbroath who sent me £5 to wish me good luck in my mission for peace and wrote, ‘My father was killed in Iraq in 1921, shot through the head while defending a British pipeline. I have sent the money in case you find his grave, put some flowers on it, take a photograph and send it to me.’

As I told this, my lip quivered, and it had a quite electric effect on the meeting and they all paused for a second. I said, ‘It may seem rather an emotional point, but politics
is
about emotion and not just about statistics.’

Then we went on to the question of Palestine, and I said, ‘I support you 100 per cent on Palestine and the right to a Palestinian state, but, if there is a war, think of the consequences. You can’t have a Palestine without Palestinians, and they may all be killed.’

After three hours he said, ‘I have detained you too long.’ That was a clear sign, so we stood up and shook hands.

This was where I made my big mistake, because I had been so high-minded about not pleading for hostages and talking about politics that I had forgotten to do what Paul would have done if he had been allowed to come – that is, to ask how many hostages would be allowed out, when they could come out, and so on. I missed the boat, and, when I got back with Sa’doon Zubaydi, Paul was obviously extremely disappointed that I had failed to do the fundamental thing. I felt I had let him down most terribly.

But you must have faith, and I tried to keep it up during a pretty gloomy afternoon press conference, with the journalists all clamouring around and asking, ‘How many have you got, Mr Benn?’ as if it was a cricket match.

I described the meeting in a way that didn’t betray Saddam Hussein’s confidence, and the press were quite generous to me. I said, ‘Well, I can’t tell you. There are a lot of ends to be tied up. I was very bold and asked for the lot.’

By the evening, the full impact of my failure was beginning to dawn on me.

Sa’doon Zubaydi, incidentally, asked me to send him the particulars of the grave the Scottish woman had written to me about. Late in the day, a message came through that the Iraqi Government would provide me with a private jet to Amman, which means I might be able to see King Hussain on my way back.

Paul and I were in a state of gloom, but in fact a very amusing, kind Member of Parliament came to see us, and I told him I had forgotten to ask the critical question. He laughed, and he is going to try to talk to the Speaker. Later I heard that fifteen hostages had been identified to be released. It’s not bad, but not as many as I had hoped.

Incidentally, I heard that, when Willy Brandt met Saddam Hussein, at
one point he had looked down at his knees and said very quietly, ‘Mr President, you won’t like what I am going to tell you, but . . .’ Then he had told him that he should withdraw from Kuwait. Afterwards Saddam had said he thought Willy Brandt was ‘sweet’!

Just after midnight, Sa’doon rang to check the final list of fifteen names. He commented on some of the people who have been to see Saddam Hussein, and told me, ‘Jesse Jackson is a complete fake.’

I asked, ‘What do you mean?’

‘He came over with a television crew; Saddam Hussein wanted to talk to him about the crisis, and he said, “I’m just here doing television programmes.” He created a very poor impression.’

Thursday 29 November

We were taken to the old airport in Baghdad and took off in this comfortable little jet – just Paul, myself and the Iraqi Ambassador to Jordan, who had been for talks in Baghdad. We flew for an hour across nothing but desert except the Euphrates, and landed in Amman at about 10.

We landed at London Airport at about 4pm and came through quickly, and there was Caroline waiting for me. I felt totally at home again. There were forty journalists, and I felt as if I were in front of a firing squad. They asked some hostile questions.

Saturday 1 December

This week saw the removal of Mrs Thatcher from Number 10, and apparently, as she left the building, people detected a tear in her eye. But she turned up in the House the following day, sitting in the seat Geoffrey Howe had occupied when he had made his resignation speech, and she listened to John Major. According to the opinion poll, Labour is slipping and the Tories are rising, and I think the media have at last found a candidate they can openly and uncritically support.

Yesterday I actually had a handwritten letter from Kinnock in which he congratulated me on the success of my ‘humanitarian efforts’. I thought I had better take it as a peace gesture, so I rang and thanked him, and arranged to go and give him a briefing.

Thursday 6 December

During the day we heard that Saddam Hussein had announced that he is granting ‘freedom of movement’ to all foreign residents i.e., releasing them – the very thing I asked him to do last week. I could hardly believe it.

At 8 Caroline and I went to a lovely dinner at the Commons that had been arranged to celebrate my fortieth year in Parliament. Ruth Winstone had decorated a cake with the Commons portcullis symbol on it. Tony and Sally Banks gave me a Gladstone plate from their own collection, which was extremely generous. Also invited were Chris Mullin, Ralph and Marion
Miliband and their friend John Saville, the historian, who was riveted by Caroline’s work on Hardie, Richard and Patricia Moberly, Jeremy and Claudia Corbyn and Maxine Baker.

At one point, the lights went out in the Harcourt Room, which is where a lot of Tory MPs have dinner, and in came the cake, and the Tory MPs sang ‘Happy Birthday’, not knowing what was going on.