The Secrets of Saddam's Nuclear Mastermind by Mahdi Obeidi and Kurt Pitzer
Obeidi was the mastermind behind Saddam’s nuclear weapons project (he often reminds one of an Iraqi Albert Speer), a project which was dismantled after the 1991 war and evidence of which was hidden in Obeidi’s back garden under a lotus tree in a green plastic drum and remained there until the 2003 invasion. Obeidi is honest about what drove his work; patriotism, fear of Saddam and his henchman Hussein Kamel (who was in charge of the programme) and a genuine scientific and professional enthusiasm for solving a puzzle. The book sets out in some detail the travails -technological, human and international- the nuclear programme had to contend with and the shady world of industrial and military espionage. The roles of black-marketers- such as the shady Pakistani known only as Malik- and of western industrialists such as the German and Swiss private entrepreneurs (like those at H&H Metalform) who wilfully ignored the implications of their assistance is ably spelled out. Obeidi and his team often trod the same path as A. Q. Khan and at others innovated in quite ingenious ways (i.e., regarding centrifuge technology). Indeed, it is hard not to empathise and share the joys of Obeidi and his colleagues at the first successful test of their centrifuge. Life under the Saddam regime, however, is not forgotten and the reader often feels the same paranoia that the author must have felt too. At times Obeidi was even called upon to conduct espionage himself such as when he flew to the U.S. and the University of Virginia’s Department of Mechanical Engineering to try to obtain a copy of the Zippe Report on centrifuge technology, originally published in the 1950s and unavailable in Iraq;

I approached a wiry, bespectacled librarian with the catalogue number, and he disappeared into a closed-off area of the library. When he returned several minutes later, he handed me a lengthy form and a ballpoint pen.
“You have to fill this out first,” he said. “For security purposes. And I will need some identification.”
This put me in an uncomfortable position, because filling in such forms would leave a dangerous paper trail. American intelligence agents would surely be very interested to learn that two Iraqi men had asked to see a centrifuge report at the University of Virginia. We couldn’t afford to leave such a revealing piece of evidence, particularly at the very outset of our secret program.
“Would it be possible to ensure that the report is indeed here,” I asked, “before I fill out all these forms for it?”
The librarian gave me an annoyed look, then returned to the back section of the library. We waited at his desk for what seemed like hours. Next to me, Dr. Farid fidgeted and began to sweat.
“Do you think he will call the authorities?” Dr. Farid whispered.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “We are in a university, making an everyday request. He is probably having trouble finding the report.” But I shared his nervousness. The word “security” triggered a subconscious reaction of fear in both of us. In Iraq, it usually meant just the opposite. Dr. Farid’s seemingly irrational notion suddenly took hold of me. What if a request for the Zippe report triggered an automatic security alert? If the librarian made a phone call and we were questioned, our cover story that we were from the University of Baghdad would hardly hold up. I thought of the awful consequences if Hussein Kamel learned we had exposed ourselves through such a foolish blunder. To my relief, the librarian finally returned with a thick sheaf of papers in one hand.
“Here it is,” he said, holding it back from us.“Now please fill out these forms.”
“Could I see it for a moment to be sure it is the right document?”I asked.
He handed me the report and watched closely as I took it to a nearby table and flipped through its pages. As I had hoped, it was a key piece of literature. It did not contain blueprints or dimensions of centrifuge pieces but offered a broad view of the engineering principles behind the magnetic centrifuge. It was exactly the primer
our team needed. But there was no way of reading it without filling out the release forms, and almost certainly no way of copying it. I noticed the librarian glowering at me several feet away. I intently scanned the chapter headings of the report while trying to appear as though I were only riffling through the pages.
“Is that what you are looking for?” the librarian asked impatiently.
“I’m still not sure,” I said.
I knew I had only a few more seconds to look at the report. Then I came to an appendix that listed the recipients of the report when it was first issued in 1960: the holders of the precious few copies. Scanning down the list, I recognized the name of a Milan based professor [from whom Obeidi acquired the report via his onetime colleague Dr. Giorgio Morandi, in Milan] associated with the Italian nuclear program. That was the piece of information I needed. (p. 77-78)

Obeidi also goes into some depth about Saddam’s attempts at deception during the IAEA inspections in the post-1991 period. At the Rashidiya complex a first inspection by IAEA inspectors discovered trace amounts of uranium, Obeidi ordered that the entire (former) centrifuge complex be demolished and soil excavated which may have been contaminated. It was then rebuilt.
When the inspectors returned unannounced about two weeks later, everything appeared as they had last seen it, down to the placement of the drafting tables and machines and the coffeemaker. I stayed away, but my staff later told me the inspectors had arrived with a triumphant and slightly accusatory attitude. They took dozens of samples from the walls, floor, insulation, and ground soil, and then left to send them to Vienna for confirmation. They must have been truly puzzled when the material later tested negative for abnormal uranium levels. I imagine they remain puzzled about it to this day.(p. 150)
[...]
By 1994 the inspectors had largely dismantled Iraq’s nuclear capabilities. But they had not discovered key ingredients of the centrifuge program. In addition to hiding elements of our procurement network, the Oversight Committee had avoided turning over any blueprints or documents related to detailed design. The inspectors were unaware of our plans for a longer and more advanced centrifuge. They still knew nothing of the crash program before the 1991 war or how close we had come to producing a nuclear weapon. The government continued to claim that the centrifuge program was conceived and developed at Tuwaitha and to deny the true purpose of the Engineering Design Centre. The organizational structure of our centrifuge team was still in question. The inspectors had not been able to confirm my role or interview me as the program’s supervisor.(p. 156-6)

Though not explicitly about the internal power struggles – especially between Hussein Kamel and Uday & Qusay Hussein- the book, by necessity, reveals much about the organisational and personal political manoeuvrings that formed the backdrop to the defunct programme. Hussein Kamel subsequently defected to Jordan and revealed hitherto unknown aspects of the nuclear weapons programme including the role of Karl Heinz Schaab in providing Iraq with blueprints for centrifuge technology. However, the nature of Saddam’s regime made rational policymaking a fantasy. In 2002 Britain and the US charged Iraq with reviving its WMD programme. Unfortunately, most of the industrial plants and research centres that had worked on the WMD programme were now working on conventional weapons programmes (ballistic missiles) but with the same technology. It was obvious what it looked like to Britain and America (whether or not we were justified in attacking Iraq, it didn’t help its case either).

When General al-Saadi came back on the line, I informed him that we had experimented with aluminium rotors during our early efforts with the Beams-type centrifuge, but with a larger diameter than the tubes Iraq had recently ordered for rockets. I said that aluminium rotors could not be used for the magnetic type of centrifuge with which we succeeded in enriching uranium in 1990. After we hung up, I had second thoughts. I consulted with one of my junior engineers, Jamal, from the centrifuge days, who reminded me that Professor Zippe had used aluminium in early magnetic centrifuge work at the University of Virginia during the late 1950s. I called General Saadi back to correct myself. It was extremely important, I said, to give the inspectors the right arguments for the implausibility of the aluminium tubes allegation. We could not categorically state that aluminium tubes were unsuited for magnetic centrifuges. We needed to present a very detailed case. I knew that Dr. Faris was making a thorough investigation into the tolerances and specifications of the aluminium tubes, in order to show that they were indeed intended for artillery rockets.(p. 188)

Obeidi’s fate after the 2003 invasion would be comical were it not for the very real dangers that the chaos in Iraq posed. For instance, he was courted by competing intelligence agencies while Obeidi himself tried to secure his safety through David Albright. Meanwhile US Army troops stormed his home (he was on the most-wanted list) oblivious to his dealings with the CIA (who were queued by Albright). He was finally spirited away to Kuwait and then the US. Fascinating stuff.