These are, of course, accusations that have been made on Sunday talk shows, in newspaper editorials and at foreign affairs seminars for weeks, growing most recently acute around the scandal over the leaking of the identity of a C.I.A. agent, Valerie Plame. The "Frontline" documentary, which weaves solemn interviews with Iraqi exiles and disgruntled government officials around scenes of the everyday chaos and violence of Baghdad, does not provide new information so much as it richly illustrates the case against the Bush administration a prosecution brief enhanced with charts, photographs and a thick leather binder. Ahmad Chalabi, the Iraqi exile who was a vital intelligence source for the Pentagon hawks, is presented as exhibit A. "Do you have any documentary evidence of any kind?" Martin Smith, the program's on-camera reporter and producer, asks Mr. Chalabi, who says he has "very strong" evidence linking Mr. Hussein and Al Qaeda. Mr. Smith politely presses the Iraqi to produce an actual document. "I mean, if there is such a document, it makes sense for you to share it, no?" he persists. Mr. Chalabi promises, awkwardly, that the document will be furnished. "The document was supposed to demonstrate money changing hands between Saddam Hussein's government and Al Qaeda," a narrator intones. "After repeated requests, `Frontline' has still not seen the document." Mr. Chalabi's discomfort is contrasted with the calm self-possession of former United States government officials who question the administration's policy. Robert M. Perito, a retired career diplomat who briefly served as a national security aide in the Reagan and first Bush administrations, says he reminded top administration officials of the costly chaos in Panama City after Gen. Manuel Antonio Noriega was removed from power in 1989. "And those lessons were ignored," he says matter-of-factly. Greg Thielmann, who left his post as director of the strategic, proliferation and military affairs office in the State Department's Bureau of Intelligence and Research last September, also describes in dispassionate tones how the State Department's intelligence reports were ignored or sanded down to suit the White House's case. Calling the administration's approach "faith-based intelligence," Mr. Thielmann says, "They were cherry-picking the information that we provided to use whatever pieces of it fit their overall interpretation." What the documentary does not point out is that every administration routinely ignores its most experienced in-house experts. The banks of the Potomac are littered with the spent careers of C.I.A. analysts and foreign service professionals who had discordant assessments of El Salvador, Bosnia and Iraq. What distinguished the Bush administration, "Frontline" contends, was the openness of its arrogance and the magnitude of its policy shift sending more than 200,000 American troops to invade a Muslim country and recreate it along American democratic lines. Ambassador L. Paul Bremer III, the American administrator of Iraq, tells "Frontline" that the reconstruction effort will cost $100 billion. And that is in addition to the $4 billion a month the United States is currently spending on the military occupation. The documentary illustrates how the American occupation is beginning to grate even on the least politicized Iraqi citizens. An eight-hour wait for gasoline grows so tense a man fires a gun in frustration and the bullet hits a gas tank, killing four civilians, including the brother of a young boy, filmed as he wails his rage and grief. Soldiers assigned to find Mr. Hussein or his henchmen conduct house-to-house raids, each small, fruitless invasion of privacy setting off a ripple of resentment in villages and city neighborhoods. Those scenes contrast sharply with a clip of President Bush at a news conference boldly pressing the case for a pre-emptive strike, warning, "The Iraqi regime could launch a biological or chemical attack in as little as 45 minutes." The narrator notes, "What was missing from all the speeches and television appearances were the caveats and contrary evidence from their own intelligence agencies." Most documentaries can also be faulted for the same sin: leaving out information that detracts from the central thesis. No administration official is interviewed on camera. In a flash of journalistic self-importance, the narrator explains that Secretary of Defense Donald H. Rumsfeld, Vice President Dick Cheney, Secretary of State Colin L. Powell and the national security adviser, Condoleezza Rice, were asked for interviews, and that "they all declined." A meeting with Douglas J. Feith, the under secretary of defense for policy, was canceled by the White House, according to the narrator, who adds, "We received no explanation." Instead the program relies on Richard N. Perle, a business consultant who was an important aide in the Reagan administration, to explain the government's view. Mr. Perle is not actually a government official, but he plays one on TV. He advises Mr. Rumsfeld from his unpaid perch on the Defense Policy Board, a position that gives him behind-the-scenes access to top Bush officials as well as the freedom to speak out publicly. "Let me be blunt about this: the level of competence of the Central Intelligence Agency in this area is appalling," Mr. Perle says, explaining why the Pentagon created its own intelligence unit to find links between Mr. Hussein and Al Qaeda. "So if you're walking down the street and you're not looking for hidden treasure, you won't find it." When Mr. Smith suggests that the converse is also true, Mr. Perle agrees. "Of course, there's no absolute truth in this," he says genially. FRONTLINE: Truth, War and Consequences Martin Smith and Marcela Gaviria, producers; Martin Smith, writer and reporter; David Fanning, executive producer for Frontline. A Frontline co-production with Rainmedia Inc. |