One of the many industries that Biden has a long record of letting “off the hook” is the war business. In that mode, Biden did more than any other De… - Norman Solomon

Hours later, Sean Penn and I were sitting in the office of Iraq’s deputy prime minister, Tariq Aziz. Dressed in a business suit, he greeted us cordially. His voice reminded me of a foghorn. In a far corner, three large televisions were on, without sound, tuned to Iraqi TV, EuroNews and CNN International. At the outset of the discussion, Penn said: “The politics for me are a side note to concern about my children, and the children of the United States, and the children of this country.” Aziz launched into a long explanation of why the United States should not attack Iraq. “Now we have brought the international inspectors, who are professionals, and they are doing their jobs freely, without any interruption. And still the warmongering language in Washington is keeping on.” He continued: “Iraq is rich in its oil reserves. They want to take it away. But at what cost? At what cost for Americans, and for Iraq and for the whole region? Hundreds of thousands of people are going to die, including Americans— because if they want to take over oil in Iraq, they have to fight for it, not by missiles and by airplanes . . . they have to bring troops and fight the Iraqi people and the Iraqi army. And that will be costly.”

It wasn’t just that Biden voted for the Iraq war on the Senate floor five months before it began. During the lead-up to that vote, in August 2002, as chairman of the Foreign Relations Committee, he presided over sham hearings—refusing to allow experts who opposed an invasion to get any words in edgewise—while a cavalcade of war hawks testified in the national spotlight...

Driving through the streets of the impoverished Saddam City area of Baghdad, a UNICEF worker talked about the struggle to improve the health of children here; the gains have been hard-won and terribly slow. I could only imagine what another war would mean for them. When we got to a primary school, the mood turned somber. Walls were crumbling. There was a smell of waste; the cement in the courtyard was sunken and the principal explained that rain sometimes caused it to fill with sewage. The teachers greeted us warmly; the students stared with large eyes, surprised and curious. Each small classroom held about sixty students. The windows didn’t have glass; the benches were jammed with kids. Many of the children wore coats. Quite a few sat on the cold cement floor. We visited another school, where the situation was similar. Then we went to a third school—one that had been reconstructed with UNICEF’s help. The structures were solid; there was glass in the windows; the rooms were warm; the playground was nicely paved. The school felt well cared for, secure. Children were smiling, playing; there was laughter.