Iraq occupies a central place in Noam Chomsky’s account of the power relations behind the September 11 attacks and the policies that followed. It is not presented merely as a target of American policy: the account emphasizes that a decade of U.S. measures devastated Iraqi society while strengthening Saddam Hussein, and that the resulting suffering was treated very differently from violence committed by declared enemies. Iraq thus becomes a test of whether political and moral standards are applied consistently across differences in power.

Sanctions, Society, and Saddam Hussein

Chomsky argues that people across the Middle East viewed U.S. policy toward Iraq as one of the region’s most consequential grievances. In his account, the measures of the preceding decade had devastated Iraqi society even as they reinforced Saddam Hussein’s power. He links this history to a broader popular anger at American support for authoritarian governments and at policies that directed regional wealth toward the West, Westernized elites, and rulers sustained by Western power.

The contrast between official American accounts and regional perceptions is especially sharp around Iraq. Chomsky says that Western audiences preferred a different story, while people in the Middle East understood that Saddam Hussein had received substantial U.S. support when he committed grave atrocities, including the gassing of Kurds in 1988. The point is not offered as an exoneration of Saddam Hussein; it is used to expose the selectivity of public memory and the political consequences of treating an adversary’s crimes differently from those committed by a supported ruler.

Human Costs and the Language of Justification

Chomsky places Iraq beside other examples to challenge the moral vocabulary used for state violence. He questions what name should be given to a policy that, as he estimates it, could lead to the deaths of perhaps a million Iraqi civilians, including half a million children. He also recalls Secretary of State Madeleine Albright’s televised response to the estimate of 500,000 children’s deaths under sanctions: she acknowledged that such consequences were the price of a difficult choice and said the administration believed that price was worth paying.

The comparison extends to political argument itself. Chomsky criticizes appeals for an ideological campaign against arguments that might explain terrorism when, in his view, such appeals can suppress inquiry into the causes of violence directed at states an intellectual supports. He points to the routine treatment of civilian deaths as collateral damage and to the support for Israeli political assassinations, then sets that discussion against the suffering produced by policy toward Iraq. The juxtaposition asks readers to judge state action by its effects and standards, rather than by the identity of the actor or the preferred label for the act.

Iraq in the Politics of War and Power

Iraq also illustrates how the language surrounding force can shape public understanding. Chomsky notes that the 1991 Gulf War was openly called a war, while the bombing of Serbia was described as humanitarian intervention; he argues that justificatory terms often conceal the ordinary operations of imperial power. His discussion places Iraq within a wider pattern in which governments present violence through politically favorable descriptions while leaving its consequences and strategic purposes less visible.

That critique connects Iraq to Chomsky’s account of American power after September 11. He argues that the Bush administration could use the crisis to advance militarization, weaken social programs, redirect public concern, and transfer more wealth to a narrow group. He also maintains that coalition-building was unlikely to alter the underlying policy: allies were expected to support Washington quietly rather than participate in decisions, while the United States reserved the right to act as it chose. Iraq’s place in this argument is therefore both concrete and analytical: the country’s devastation serves as evidence in a broader charge that policy is shaped by power and strategic interests, while moral language and public narratives help obscure the human consequences.