The Prisoner in His Palace

Will Bardenwerper's "The Prisoner in His Palace" offers a remarkable and unexpected perspective on one of modern history's most reviled figures. Rather than rehashing Saddam Hussein's brutal reign or cataloging his crimes, Bardenwerper focuses on an often-overlooked chapter: the final years of the dictator's life as a prisoner at Camp Cropper, near Baghdad International Airport, under the watch of twelve American soldiers known as the Super Twelve.

Bardenwerper, himself an Army infantry officer who served in Iraq, draws on extensive interviews with the soldiers who guarded Hussein between his capture in December 2003 and his execution in December 2006. These young men, mostly in their twenties and early thirties, found themselves in the surreal position of providing round-the-clock security for a man who had ordered the deaths of hundreds of thousands. The book explores how this proximity to such infamy affected them, and how Hussein himself behaved when stripped of power and confined to a simple cell.

The narrative reveals a complex dynamic between captor and captive. The guards witnessed Hussein's daily routines: his fastidious grooming, his love of gardening in a small patch of dirt, his enjoyment of Raisin Bran cereal, and his consumption of American snack foods. He wrote poetry, read the Quran, and exercised regularly. These mundane details stand in stark contrast to the monstrous actions that defined his rule, creating an unsettling portrait of banality coexisting with evil.

Bardenwerper carefully navigates the ethical complexities inherent in his subject matter. The soldiers, despite their initial revulsion, found themselves developing a certain familiarity with their prisoner. Hussein could be polite, even charming at times, inquiring about the guards' families and attempting to engage them in conversation. Some guards struggled with these interactions, recognizing the danger of humanizing someone responsible for such tremendous suffering. The book does not suggest that Hussein deserved sympathy, but rather examines how proximity and daily interaction complicated the soldiers' understanding of their charge.

The author provides essential historical context about Hussein's rise to power and the atrocities committed under his regime, including the use of chemical weapons against Kurdish civilians, the brutal suppression of Shiite uprisings, and the torture and execution of political opponents. This background ensures that readers never lose sight of why Hussein was imprisoned and ultimately executed. Bardenwerper maintains a careful balance, never allowing the glimpses of Hussein's mundane humanity to overshadow or excuse his documented crimes.

One of the book's strengths lies in its attention to the psychological toll on the guards themselves. Many struggled with their assignment, caught between their duty as soldiers and their discomfort at the strange intimacy their role required. Some found the experience troubling long after their service ended, grappling with questions about morality, justice, and what it means to witness history firsthand. Bardenwerper treats these men with respect, allowing their voices and perspectives to shape the narrative without imposing judgment on their varied reactions.

The book also touches on the legal proceedings that led to Hussein's conviction and execution for crimes against humanity, particularly the Dujail massacre of 1982. The trial scenes provide context for the historical reckoning that was taking place even as the guards went about their daily routines. This dual timeline reinforces the tension between Hussein's present circumstances and his past actions.

Bardenwerper's prose is straightforward and accessible, avoiding both sensationalism and academic detachment. The book reads as a work of contemporary history and reportage, grounded in firsthand accounts and verifiable events. The author's military background lends credibility to his descriptions of military life and protocol, while his interviewing skills bring out nuanced and honest reflections from his subjects.

"The Prisoner in His Palace" serves as a meditation on how history is experienced by those closest to it, often in ways that feel mundane or anticlimactic. The guards were not making grand strategic decisions or witnessing dramatic confrontations. They were ensuring their prisoner ate his meals, took his medications, and remained secure. Yet their proximity to Hussein gave them a perspective that few others possessed, one that complicates simplistic narratives without diminishing the weight of historical judgment.

This book will appeal to readers interested in recent Middle Eastern history, military memoirs, and explorations of moral complexity in wartime. Bardenwerper has crafted a thoughtful examination of an unusual historical moment, one that raises questions about humanity, justice, and the nature of evil without pretending to offer easy answers.