On the other hand, asking in the Americans presented the Saudis with serious problems—not, as some people think, because the Saudis feared and rejected America and the West. That wasn’t true. The Saudis admired and respected the West. Inviting in the Americans was problematic because Saudi Arabia was the most deeply fundamental Islamic nation. To the Saudis, fundamental Islam required them to stay as close to the teaching of the Holy Prophet and the Holy Koran as possible, and this required them to reject the aspects of our culture that, in their view, were offensive to God, such as pornography, drunkenness, and the like. They had no wish to encourage the spread of these vices inside their country. Like it or not, many Arabs viewed the people of the United States (including the U.S. military) as drunken, pot-smoking skirt-chasers. The ghost of Vietnam haunting us again.

So here was the King of Saudi Arabia trying to work out what to do after an army of brother Arabs had successfully invaded a neighboring brother country. As he gazed upon that ghastly situation, he couldn’t help but ask himself, “Will my Arab brother attack me?” even as the ruler of the attacking country assured him that his armies meant no harm. So should he trust the good intentions of his admittedly treacherous brother, or should he invite a foreign legion of godless drunks and rapists to defend his people? It was one hell of a choice!

For a long time, the debate continued in Arabic between the King and his brothers, with Cheney, Schwarzkopf, Freeman, Wolfowitz, and a few other American representatives still in the room (since Freeman spoke Arabic, the main points of the debate were later reported to the others). On and on, with no clear answers. Then, at last, the King articulated very simply what he had probably had in mind ever since it had become clear that the United States was willing to offer military help. . . . Horner wasn’t to know what that was, however, until after the meeting broke up.

As the American delegation left the Palace of the Defender of the Two Holy Mosques, everyone seemed unusually calm and peaceful. Cool breezes were blowing off the Red Sea, fountains sang in the courtyard. The only other sound was the chirp the tires made, like sneakers on marble, as the staff cars glided over the polished tile driveway. The delegation filed into the cars without speaking, everyone deep in thought, heavily troubled by what lay ahead.

Horner and Paul Wolfowitz climbed into the backseat of the car they were sharing. As they drove out the massive gates of the palace grounds, Horner quietly asked him how things had gone in the inner sanctum. “The King has asked us to come in and help,” he said, with some wonder in his voice. “He said I’ve seen this nation come too far to have it destroyed.”