Some defence analysts have been making comparisons between the extended Russian invasion of Ukraine six months ago and Saddam’s invasion of Kuwait in 1990. At that time, I was deputy team leader of UNIIMOG’s (UN Iran/Iraq Military Observer Group) Team 7, which was in the heart of the Iraqi troop concentration area, 200 metres from the highway, and about 15 minutes from the border. Our mission was to monitor the two-year-old ceasefire between Iran and Iraq.
n July 1990, Iraq was building up forces near the Kuwait border, south of Basra. Saddam Hussein was demanding debt cancellations from the neighbouring state. He also wanted Kuwait to cut oil production and pay compensation for allegedly drilling into Iraqi oil reservoirs.
It was nothing new. On previous occasions, after a bit of sabre-rattling, a deal would be struck — the Kuwaitis would pay up and everyone would go home. There was nothing to indicate that this time would be any different.
Except that this time, behind the scenes, Saddam had asked the US ambassador to Iraq, April Glaspie, what the US position was in this dispute. In essence, she replied that it was neutral, by which Saddam understood that there would be no military intervention in the event of conflict.
Conflict seemed unlikely. By July 30, international media were reporting that there had been a settlement and Iraqi forces were withdrawing from the border area.
My team site was in an Iraqi army training area with a couple of reinforced concrete bunkers, built for Saddam’s inspection visits to the front during the war with Iran. One of these air-conditioned bunkers had a TV/ video screen, where we military observers, along with one or two Iraqi liaison officers, would literally chill out, escaping from the 45C temperature outside.
One night we sat and watched that Shirley Valentine, where a Liverpudlian housewife escapes from a downtrodden life to find love and happiness on a Greek island. The culture shock for the Iraqis was obvious. There was a silence at the end as the credits rolled. Finally, a stunned Lieutenant Diah exclaimed: “I hope my dear wife never, ever sees this film!”
On August 1, before noon, I took over as acting team leader of the 16-strong team for the month. While international media were reporting the de-escalation of the crisis, our patrols had a different story. There was no sign of a withdrawal, just a steady build-up of forces. In the afternoon, I took a patrol car to check out the military build-up in the immediate area near our team site. Within 3km there was an Iraqi mechanised brigade, about 3,000 strong, including a tank battalion with about 50 T-72 Soviet-built tanks loaded on transporters. While everyone was mostly packed up and ready to move, there was an additional column of vehicles closing up from the Basra side. Two observers who left to collect post from Basra informed us that the line of military traffic on the road stretched back several kilometres towards the city. At about 12.15am, an Austrian military observer returning from the other direction, from Kuwait, confirmed that the build-up of Iraqi troops stretched from the border back as far as the team site. The invasion was clearly on.
At about 2.30am, I could hear the distant crump of mortar fire from the south. At first light, about 4.15am, an armada of aircraft flew over our team site towards Kuwait. In the first wave, there were troop-carrying helicopters escorted by helicopter gunships, flying very low, while higher up, Sukhoi jet fighters provided top cover.
On the main road, we could see endless columns of trucks and laden tank transporters heading towards the border. This was to continue 24/7 for about four weeks, until we estimated that about 300,000 troops had gone through to Kuwait.
When the trucks and transporters offloaded their cargo in Kuwait, they loaded up with looted goods and returned to Iraq. It was extraordinary. There were air conditioners, hospital equipment, traffic lights, school furniture, pristine armoured cars with Kuwaiti Army markings. At Basra airport, we saw Kuwaiti Airlines aircraft being painted over in the livery of Iraqi Airlines. Basra police were driving around in brand new Kuwaiti City Police cars. Throughout August we were expecting that there would be some reaction by the international community, especially after the UN Security Council passed resolutions against the invasion. We were well aware that we were quite close to possible targets. These included a key bridge over a ravine whose destruction would have stopped the invasion in its tracks. There was also a Republican Guard Division in the immediate area and two oil refineries. So that our position could show up clearly on satellite photography, every evening I had our 10 patrol cars with their rooftop UN markings, parked in a star-like formation.
Despite similarities to the Ukraine invasion, there are notable differences. First, the Iraqi Army invaded along one route, while the Russians invaded along nine or 10, keeping observers guessing which were their primary lines of attack.
Second, the Iraqi invasion force of 300,000 showed clearly that Saddam was planning to annex the whole of Kuwait. Putin invaded a much larger country with a large population and substantially more defence forces with an inferior Russian force of 190,000 personnel. His objectives were clearly different, mainly to occupy just parts of Ukrainian territory in the east and south, change the regime and control the national power grid.
Putin managed to keep the international community guessing whether he would attack up to 24 hours before the invasion. Saddam’s operation was also a complete surprise, one kept under wraps for at least a year before.
The invasion of Kuwait was also a big surprise to us military observers. However, there was one significant clue that we all missed. As we were co-located with the Iraqi Army, each office had a state-issued calendar for 1990, with a different picture of Saddam for each month: sometimes in military uniform; sometimes in the traditional dress of the different tribes of different regions. On September 1, 1990 as I turned the calendar page, there was a smiling Saddam once again, this time in a resplendent long white ‘dishdasha’ robe with matching headdress.
This just happens to be the traditional national dress of Kuwait.
Colonel Dorcha Lee (Retd) is a defence analyst