Hussein challenges authority of court

BAGHDAD -- Saddam Hussein launched what could be his final battle yesterday, making clear from the first moment of his trial for crimes against humanity that his strategy would be to challenge the very existence of the court and attempt to harness Iraqi dissatisfaction with the US occupation.

Hussein went on the offensive as soon as the presiding judge, Rizgar Mohammed Amin, asked him to identify himself.

''I maintain my constitutional position as the president of Iraq, and I have the right to remain silent as to my identity," said Hussein, 2 1/2 years after he was deposed by the US invasion. ''You know me, you know who I am, but I do not recognize your authority. I did not hire you."

Appearing in a building that once belonged to his Ba'ath Party, Hussein, 68, pleaded not guilty to charges of murder, torture, forced expulsions, and illegal detentions. Amin adjourned the court until Nov. 28.

Even in a three-hour session that was largely procedural, it became clear that a major front in the trial is the struggle for control of the courtroom.

At stake is whether the case will be viewed as a political show trial or a precedent-setting demonstration that a country can hold its former ruler responsible for government atrocities -- and whether placing Hussein in the dock will weaken the insurgency or galvanize it.

Each side quickly showed off the powerful weapons at its disposal.

The chief prosecutor, Jaafar al Musawi, invoked the collective memory of Iraqi suffering since Hussein assumed formal power in 1979.

''More than 2 million people were killed, whether through wars or just because they were accused of belonging to groups hostile to the regime," he said.

He mentioned the chemical gassing of Kurds in Halabja in 1988, the killing of the Kurdish Barzani clan, and the ''unreasonable war with Iran" in the 1980s, prompting Hussein's lawyers to protest that he should stick to the case at hand, the executions of 146 men from the town Dujail in 1982 after an assassination attempt against Hussein there.

The defense highlighted concerns raised by the very human rights groups that have long wanted to see Hussein tried -- worries that the court set up by the US-backed government is politically slanted and lacks sufficient guarantees for providing defendants access to evidence and witnesses.

One defense lawyer, Sadoun Janabi, complained that 3,000 pages of documents handed over to the defense were blank or unreadable.

But the main weapon for the defense was Hussein's force of personality, his power as an object of fear and hero worship, and his past as a symbol of Arab unity and defiance.

That symbolism still resonates with some Iraqis who -- even if they abhorred Hussein's rule -- feel humiliated by the ubiquitous presence of US troops. And Hussein was ready to use it.

''I do not recognize the occupation," the bearded Hussein, who wore a dark suit jacket and slacks, told the judge.

He welcomed his fellow defendants as they clustered around him deferentially and affectionately, some of them kissing the top of his head.

As his alleged crimes were detailed, he watched intently and sometimes smiled. His first utterance was to cite a Koran passage that urges relying on God even though ''a great army is gathering against you."

Hussein, captured by US troops in an underground hiding place in December 2003, even extended his power struggle to the courtroom guards.

As one reached out to grasp his arm on the way out, Hussein flung it off and said, according to the chief guard: ''I am the president of Iraq. You can't grab me like that." The guards eased up and later were seen joking with him.

The court's high security contrasted with the lack of technical preparedness in a way that bordered on surreal.

Only a handful of reporters and observers, barred from bringing even their own pens, were allowed into the former Ba'ath Party Regional Command Center in the heart of the fortified Green Zone.

Yet despite the crucial importance of broadcasting the trial on television to win Iraqi confidence in the process, the audio connections were so poor that much of the trial was inaudible, even to people in the courtroom.

Amin tried to stay above it all, tamping down Hussein's remarks in the firm yet tolerant tone of a parent calming down a teenager, saying repeatedly, ''We'll give you the chance to speak later."