Occupational Hazards: My Time Governing in Iraq by Rory Stewart (2007)

‘If you put my cousin on the council, I will slit his throat.’
(Typical threat from an Iraqi sheikh, Occupational Hazards, page 231)

Rory Stewart

Stewart (born 1973) is posh. He comes from a family of Scottish landed gentry. Like lots of poshos born into a family which helped administer the last shreds of empire, Stewart was born abroad, in Hong Kong in his case, and then brought up in Malaysia. He, of course, was sent back to the old country to be educated at Eton and Oxford. After a brief spell in a posh regiment in the British Army (the Black Watch) he went on to work in the Diplomatic Service. Absolutely stock, standard posh-boy career. Then, in the footsteps of the posh travellers of the 1920s and 30s (Wilfred Thesiger et al), he left the Diplomatic Service to undertake a two-year walk across Afghanistan, Iran, Pakistan, India and Nepal, and then, of course, wrote a best-selling book about the experience, ‘The Places in Between’ (p.8).

Post-war Iraq

Stewart’s posh boy qualifications, his experience in the Foreign Office, his (supposed) knowledge of Arab and Muslim culture (he’s very candid about his shortcomings in speaking or understanding Arabic, as he is about everything else) meant that when the Coalition Provisional Authority (the provisional Western power set up in Iraq after the American invasion of March 2003) put out feelers to the British Foreign Office for volunteers to work as ‘governorate co-ordinators’ in the southern provinces of Iraq (which had been assigned to the British to manage) Stewart was a prime candidate.

In fact, surprisingly, he received no response to his initial application and so, with the confidence borne of his Eton-Oxford-Foreign Office pedigree, he flew to Jordan, took a taxi to Baghdad and lobbied for the job on the spot. He was vouched for by the Director of Operations and Infrastructure at the CPA, Andy Bearpark and was duly appointed (p.73).

Stewart in Iraq timeline

Thus it was that on 28 September 2003 Stewart found himself on a flight from Baghdad down to Amara, capital of Maysan Province in southern Iraq (p.10). Here he worked as ‘governorate co-ordinator’ running a team of ten or so civil affairs officers, alongside the British Army’s (completely separate) military operations for the next 6 months.

Map of Iraq’s provinces, by Orthuberra and published under Creative Commons attribution Attribution-Share Alike 3.0

In November 2003 the American diplomat Molly Phee arrived, assuming the position of Governorate Co-ordinator and Rory switched to become her deputy (p.188). A few days later, Paul Bremer announced the CPA would hand over authority to a provisional Iraqi government on 30 June 2004. In the same month an opinion poll revealed that two-thirds of Iraqis described the allies as ‘an occupying force’ (p.220).

In January 2004 the security situation suddenly deteriorated and the compound at Amara started coming under attack (p.288).

In March 2004 Stewart was moved from Maysan to its western neighbour, Dhi Qar, and its capital Nasiriyah, where he served as senior advisor to the civil affairs team. There were mounting attacks on occupation garrisons throughout Iraq.

In April 2004 the Shiite cleric, politician and militia leader Muqtada al-Sadr unleashed his supporters’ insurgency against the occupying forces, leading to attacks against Coalition offices throughout Iraq, and against Stewart’s compound in Nasiriyah. The very fierce fighting would continue until al-Sadr declared a ceasefire in September 2004.

Meanwhile, in June 2004, the Coalition Authority handed all its powers over to the Iraqi Provisional government, and Stewart’s job came to an end.

He revisited Iraq a couple of times, later in 2004 and in 2005, but his day-to-day involvement at that point came to an end.

A memoir not a history

I bought this paperback when it came out in 2007. I remember being disappointed. Now I realise this was because I was expecting a historical overview, a comprehensive chronological account of the coalition invasion of Iraq and its aftermath, and Stewart’s book is definitely not that. For that kind of objective, historical and analytical overview, I recommend Jack Fairweather’s thorough and authoritative account, A War of Choice: Honour, Hubris and Sacrifice: The British in Iraq (2012).

I now realise I was disappointed by Stewart’s account because it is something else entirely: it is a highly personal memoir of the day-to-day challenges he faced, first in Maysan and then in Dhi Qar, and doesn’t even attempt to be an overall survey.

Instead, it is much more like a diary account (it’s not quite a diary because, as he tells us, he didn’t have time to keep a day-by-day record) of where he went and who he saw, and the issues and challenges he had to address, of the countless conversations and arguments with innumerable Iraqi officials, political leaders, sheikhs and clerics, interspersed with conversations with senior officers in the British Army in both provinces, and occasional meetings with masters in the CPA up in Baghdad. Above all, it is an odyssey through the amazingly convoluted networks of tribes and parties and gangs and warlords and militias which made up the immensely complicated tapestry of political life in his province.

And it is very deliberately provincial in focus. Occasionally he mentions politicking up in Baghdad or outbreaks of violence in the rest of the country, but only the briefest of mentions because his focus is overwhelmingly on the multiple parties and sects and forces at work in his province that he has to deal with.

This explains several things about the book:

1. At 434 pages, it is surprisingly long. But as you get into it you realise this is because it takes a long time to get to know all the many, many tribal and political leaders in Maysan. Stewart’s understanding only inches forward via long conversations, arguments, meetings, pledges, threats and unexpected revelations. In all these ways his book is more like a novel than a history: it’s not to be read for the facts; it’s to be read so as to allow the behaviours, conversations, promises, threats and actions of the various factions to slowly build up a complex, multi-layered portrait.

2. It also explains why, right at the start of the book, there’s a 4-page list of dramatis personae i.e. key figures from the narrative, just as in a classic nineteenth century Russian novel. Initially I thought I could skip these, but slowly realised that reading the book only makes sense if you maintain a good grasp of who’s who and, more to the point, who is conspiring against who, rubbishing them behind their backs, and why. Or at least, why Stewart thinks they’re doing so.

At which point I realised something quite important: that there are more Iraqi, Arab and Muslim voices in this than any other book I’ve read about Iraq or Afghanistan.

The clash of cultures

This point brings us to one of the two central themes of the book which is the immense, unbridgeable cultural gulf between this highly educated, objective and dispassionate civil servant, and the maze of Iraqi politicians he struggles to understand and manage. Over the book’s 430 pages he (and we the readers) obviously gain insight into people’s characters and motivations; but it’s delusive. Tribal leaders still abruptly reverse their positions, or pull out of agreements, for no motive that Stewart can fathom. One minute he’s enjoying a cup of tea in his pokey office in the CPA compound in Amara with a Shia cleric who promises to work with Stewart’s plans to set up a provincial council. A week later the same person is leading an angry mob on the same compound, inciting them to riot, chanting ‘Death to the Coalition’ and publishing a leaflet calling for all devout Muslims to assassinate CPA officials like Stewart (p.228). It is an impassable gulf:

Even in the stable context of our office, with good translators, it was often difficult for us to understand Iraqi guests and for them to understand us…the truth was that the most basic concepts like, ‘civil society’ or ‘sharia law’, meant very different things to each of us. (p.242)

The more he understands, the more he realises he’ll never understand. Not least because quite a few of the local players themselves don’t fully understand what’s going on. In a Hobbesian world where everyone’s hand is against everyone else’s, nobody can be sure of any of their pacts or alliances or deals.

‘These people talk randomly,’ said the governor in a tense, tired, quiet voice. ‘Even among themselves they agree about nothing. It is impossible even to get a consistent demand from them.’ (p.294)

This explains something else absolutely central which is that, when push comes to shove, if you’re in doubt about who was your ally and who was conspiring to have you assassinated, the One Thing that was guaranteed to win you brownie points with almost all the other Iraqi parties, was declaring ‘Death to the West! Death to the Coalition!’

Stewart doesn’t say it in so many words, but it emerges naturally from his countless stories of promises broken and double crosses, that opposition to the Coalition, to the occupying forces, and the West in general, was so vehement because it was, at bottom, the only policy on which almost all the squabbling Iraqi parties could unite on.

Being political illiterates, having absolutely no concept whatsoever of democratic processes or conventions, ‘Death to the West’ was the one and only policy that could (for a while) unite parties, tribes and interest groups who were, otherwise, at each other’s throats (for example, at the first meeting of the council Stewart has himself selected, p.277).

Security, security, security

All of which is related to the other, deeper, central message of the book which comes over loud and clear. Young Rory arrived with the naive belief that people are basically decent; that, if given space, law and order emerges naturally from the culture of a society; and so he initially allowed himself to be dazzled by the enormous number of economic and social development projects being worked up by the ten-person civil society team which he found in Maysan before him.

Only slowly and brutally, does he realise that the locals don’t give a monkeys about educational programmes on human rights, the free market, feminism, federalism and constitutional reform (p.82) or ‘gender-awareness workshops’ (p.83).

What they wanted was security security security. What they wanted was law and order. What they wanted was to be able to walk down the street at night (or even during the day) without being held up, mugged, sexually assaulted, kidnapped and held to ransom, or tortured and murdered.

And that, as it turned out – the provision of basic security, elementary standards of law and order – was something the occupying forces turned out to be completely incapable of providing. And Stewart’s account is a priceless testimony as to why. You might as well try to get a box of frogs to put on a military tattoo as get the endlessly bickering Arabs who Stewart profiles to agree about anything.

The rivals

Amid the blizzard of other projects and responsibilities, the central consuming project of the first, Maysan, part of the narrative, is Stewart’s attempts to appoint a provisional council which can then meet and agree a) a new provincial governor and b) a new chief of police.

The police are poorly trained, cowardly and corrupt (p.83). For example, tribal leader Abu Rashid drafted hundreds of his militia followers into the police, some of them as young as 12. The day before a meeting with Rashid Stewart hears that, when Abu Rashid’s mother had been told to wait when she went to hospital, some of these boys had drawn their weapons and threatened to shoot the doctors unless she was treated immediately (p.87). What can you do with a society split into such fiercely partisan warlord groups, and where that kind of instant resort to extreme violence is normal?

Pretty much all the sheikhs and party leaders he has to deal with are criminals. When Stewart appoints Abu Rashid chief of police it is in the knowledge that Rashid’s cousins run the major smuggling operation in the area. Stewart’s thinking is it’s better to have the big gangsters inside the organisation and let power slowly educate them, than simply making them eternal foes.

Most of the leaders he deals with are involved in some kind of criminal activity, such as smuggling drugs or diesel. Most have threatened to assassinate each other and some are responsible for murders, while most had had some member of their family killed over crime or tribal vendettas. Most of them run extortion and blackmail rackets. All the contractors he allots CPA funds to for ‘development’ projects, skim some or most of the money into their personal accounts, with sometimes hilarious results.

‘There were 54 political parties, 20 substantial tribes, and a dozen leading political figures in the province’ (p.169). Broadly speaking there are:

  • tribal sheiks: there are two massive tribes in the province but innumerable sub-tribes and smaller tribes all jostling for power, slow to forgive ancient feuds (‘Most urban Iraqis perceived the sheikhs as illiterate, embarrassing, criminal, powerless anachronisms,’ p.231)
  • some of these sheikhs had forebears who had proudly fought against the British occupier and coloniser in the 1920s and so, even if they’d wanted to be co-operative, family tradition and pride insisted that they be seen to be as unco-operative and obstructive as possible
  • there are the various candidates and parties which are all fronts for the self-styled Prince of the Marshes, a charming, educated and thoroughly untrustworthy figure, who leads a gang of semi-literate criminals who, immediately after Saddam’s fall, comprehensively looted Amara
  • clerics, all Shia, but with a surprising number of fierce rivals; incongruously to British readers, many of these religious leaders have their own militias which regularly kidnap or assassinate opponents
  • Iran-backed parties: during Saddam’s long tyranny (1968 to 2003) tens of thousands of political and religious leaders fled abroad; only a handful of them were ‘secular’ (or what passes for secular in a Muslim country); most of them were various flavours of Shia and fled east to Shia Iran; here they were kept on the Iranian government payroll awaiting the day when Saddam (a Sunni) was overthrown; so Stewart had not only to deal with Shia clerics who remained in the country, but with a whole cohort who had returned from Iran and were all, to some extent or other, in hock to Iran and carrying out pro-Iran policies; thus, the Supreme Council for the Islamic Revolution in Iraq, which was funded by Iran and represented Iran’s interests (p.65), lobbying for wilayat-e-faqih, meaning government of the jurists i.e. a Shia theocracy identical to Iran’s
  • then there were the Sadrists, followers of Shia cleric, Muqtada al-Sadr, who shouted the same kind of anti-Coalition slogans from their pulpits as the returners-from-exile but with one key difference: Muqtada had never gone into exile and was a fierce Iraqi nationalist i.e. opposed the Iran-backed parties as violently as they opposed the Coalition; his militia calls itself ‘the Army of the Redeeming Imam’ (p.86); Muqtada ‘created his own armed militia, assassinated clerical rivals, declared an alternative government and called for the immediate departure of the infidel Coalition’, p.253; Stewart makes the point that all the Shia groups seem to be represented by younger and younger men who reject the moderation of their elders; in other words, political Islam was becoming more unstable (p.230)
  • there weren’t many Sunnis in Maysan (the further south in Iraq you go, the more Shia it becomes) but by and large the Sunni were more moderate and better educated than the Shia, who they regarded as uneducated, backward heretics (p.46)
  • last and least, quavering in the shadow of all these fierce and violent factions, were the handful of genuinely secular, middle class, liberal democratically minded Iraqis and the handful of ‘feminists’; none of these stood a hope in hell of being elected to anything but Stewart and his boss, Molly Phee, appointed some to their provincial council because it’s what the CPA in Baghdad, and all the Western politicians bankrolling the whole thing, had told their populations we were doing in Iraq – building a modern democratic state which respects the human rights of all blah blah blah

The point is that nobody in Iraq trusts anybody else; they are all prepared to believe the absolute worst of all the other tribes, clans, groups, militias, police forces and so on; and, knowing no other way of calmly settling disputes, and also conceiving of power as a zero sum game where you are either in total control or nothing, they routinely try to kidnap or assassinate each other.

A society where nobody believes in anybody else’s good intentions, yes, it probably does require a strong, authoritarian ruler to quash all these rival sources of authority and, above all, of violence. Only a really strong, violent man with a strong, violent security apparatus can quell all the other violent rivalrous groups into submission. Stewart starts off believing this is anti-Arab propaganda, but runs into trouble when Arab after Arab tells him it is true.

‘We Iraqis, we admire strong men. We have tough heads. You must be strong.’ (His first Iraqi interpreter, page 32)

How many Iraqis are you going to ignore when they tell you point blank that their society just won’t function unless it is governed with a fist of steel? It may be racist for us to make such sweeping statements, but isn’t it just as racist to ignore an Arab’s description of their own society because we supposedly know better than they do?

Thus various tribal and religious and political leaders tell him again and again that only an extremely strong, dictatorial authority can enforce security in Iraq (pages 59, 81, 82). When he and Molly finally agree settle on the members of the provisional council they’ve nominated, Stewart gives a characteristically droll summary of them:

I knew these people well. Most had killed others; all had lost close relatives. Some wanted a state modelled on seventh-century Arabia, some wanted something that resembled even older, pre-Islamic tribal systems. Some were funded by the Iranian secret service; others old oil on the black market, ran protection rackets, looted government property, and smuggled drugs. Most were linked to construction companies which made immense profits by cheating us. Two were first cousins and six were from the same tribe; some had tried to assassinate each other. This dubious gathering included and balanced, however, all the most powerful political factions in the province and I believed that if anyone could secure the province, they could. (p.268)

And at their very first meeting the Sadrist member announced that the council was illegal, poisoned by the presence of the Coalition and forbade anyone from taking their oaths. Lolz, as my kids would say.

Or when, after the first guy they appointed as chief of police is assassinated, after much heart-searching Stewart and Molly appoint the Prince of the Marshes’ brother, Riyadh Mahood Hatab on the basis that he is a competent administrator with 20 years experience in the civil service, the respect of the ministry directors, the power of his brother’s militia behind him and contacts in Baghdad. Yes, he’ll do. And then the comic horror with which Molly and Rory listen as the newly installed chief of police outlines his programme: he wants to take full control of the police, set up a secret intelligence service, ban demonstrations, arrest a journalist who had insulted him and expel his Sadrist opponents from the council (p.275).

This is how everyone they try to negotiate thinks about power; it is a zero sum game and, if they are given a position of power, they must immediately move to assume complete control as quickly as possible in order to forestall the inevitable attempts and assassinations and coups which all their rivals will mount against them. Given half a chance, everyone turns into Saddam. No-one turns into the kind of mild liberal democrat the CPA in Baghdad, and their masters in Washington and London, fantasised about.

Violent rhetoric

In the build-up to the Iraq war Saddam Hussein promised the Mother of all Battles but as soon as the invasion started most of his soldiers ran away (some didn’t; some stayed at their posts and fought very hard until obliterated by bombs from the air). I have read serious, sympathetic, Arab writers trying to explain that flowery and impassioned rhetoric is part of their culture. Alternatively, maybe they genuinely are as bloodthirsty and cut-throat as the characters in Stewart’s book suggest.

Stewart visits one of the many schools he’s helped refurbish with CPA money only to bump into the Prince of the Marshes who is ranting about the shoddy quality of the plasterwork, leading up to the blood-curdling threat:

‘Now I need to know the name of the contractor who did this work – tell me his name and I will rip out his tongue.’ (p.98)

Is this bombastic showing off, especially as he said it for the benefit of the school’s headmistress who was standing nearby? Even so, it’s hard to fit this kind of language into anything that might be said in a civilised society. Or was it meant literally? After all, there was always a low level current of mafia-style violence across the province and that was before the insurgency began, which itself degenerated into sectarian civil war, when thousands of people were kidnapped, had their eyes gouged out, their kneecaps drilled through and otherwise hurt in the most cruel and sadistic ways imaginable.

If it was rhetoric, it paved the way for real life atrocities. But more likely, the language just matched the actions.

Tribal fights were still very common – it was not rare for two or three men to be killed in a week in tribal disagreements. (p.143)

Stewart helps a sheikh of the Suwaad tribe who graciously invites him for lunch. Next day the sheikh’s house is firebombed. At an art exhibition he is introduced to Dr Kifiyah, a confident woman who is working for an aid organisation educating women (p.175). He supervises the election of a mayor for the town of Ali Al Sharj. Three days later, the mayor is ambushed and killed (p.226).

The central event of the first section, set in Maysan, is the assassination of the chief of police who Stewart and the CPA had put all their hopes on, which unleashes a kidnapping, and various forms of sectarian violence. The point is that everyone has so many enemies that they’re not at all sure who carried out the assassination.

Under siege

The first 300 pages chronicle Stewart’s time in Maysan. Around page 300 he leaves that post and is driven across the border into Dhi Qar province and on to the Coalition’s base in the provincial capital, Nasiriyah. He discovers it is a far bigger, more populous place than Maysan. He discovers that the team here held elections to appoint a provincial council and they were judged a success, shedding light on his decision to appoint a council, which led to all the problems which made up most of the text about Maysan.

The next most important thing he discovers is the military presence here is Italian and, living down to their hard-won reputation, they are useless. Never on time, never serious or committed, they rarely lose an opportunity to run away from a fight. To be fair this was because, a few months earlier, in November 2003, a huge truck bomb had detonated at the Italian headquarters in Nassiriya, killing 17 Italians. At which point Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi ordered his 2,300-strong contingent not to take any risks. Any more casualties and negative public opinion would force him to withdraw from the Coalition. There were strong political and operational reasons for the Italians’ tardiness and unreliability.

All of which is important because Stewart is in Nassiriya when the dual insurgencies, of Sunnis in Fallujah and Sadrist Shia militias across the entire south, kick off in April, and the CPA compound in Nassiriya comes under sustained attack. It’s a really serious situation, with the compound besieged, running low on water, two guards at the gate are seriously injured, scores of mortars and RPGs attack the compound continuously, the entire civilian staff have to take cover.

Eventually he manages to get them extracted from the besieged base in a convoy of armoured patrol vehicles, only for them to trundle straight into an ambush and be bombarded with machine guns and RPGs and, having remained behind in the base, he has an agonising half an hour wondering if he’s just sent his entire team to a violent death, before getting a phone call to confirm that they had all arrived safe at the allied base at the airport outside of town.

Even here there’s Waughesque comedy, as the incompetent driver of the first APV unexpectedly throws it into reverse, nearly running over Stewart and a colleague who were remaining behind. When his infuriated commander leans down to cuff the harassed driver round the ear, he then accelerates into a pile of barbed wire which promptly tangle up the wheels and prevent it going any further, till the wire is slowly painfully untangled.

There’s page after page detailing the amazing ineffectiveness and cowardliness of the Italians, and it’s not just Stewart who is gobsmacked. A team of British and American security contractors from Control Risk Group (CRG) remain in the base with him and cannot believe how useless the Italians are (pages 390 to 393). Eventually after 3 days of siege a Coalition Spectre plane uses its night sights to locate the mortar bombers and pick them off one by one, killing or wounding the entire insurgent group. Next day the city is back to its normal bustling self. Stewart is full of praise for the consultants (aka mercenaries) who manned the machine gun posts and prevented the Sadrists storming over the walls and massacring Stewart and the garrison.

But Baghdad orders the compound to be evacuated. Obviously, the minute they’ve left the looters move in and strip the place of any moveable values, right down to the wiring, before gutting and burning it.

Once safely ensconced in the Italians’ main base at Tallil Stewart comes to like them. Wherever they go, they build pizza ovens and their food is extraordinary. In fact, once you stop thinking about the Italian Army as soldiers, but actually as great chefs in fancy uniforms, what’s not to love about them?

The CPA

In case I’m accused of being anti-Arab, Stewart also has a chapter devoted to a visit to the Coalition Provincial Authority in Baghdad which overflows with details of the inane, out of touch, ludicrous, over-ambitions of inexperienced Yanks who worked all the hours that God sent and yet somehow presided over a complete shambles (pages 105 to 121). I particularly liked the deliberately comic passage where he describes going to one of the evening discos in the Green Zone and being introduced to two men who were both under the impression they had been appointed acting Interior Minister. A little later he meets two men who both think they are the Media Commissioner (p.112). Chaos.

More seriously, Stewart describes talking at different times to two soldiers, one American, one British, who both try to get him to admit that the whole war and occupation was to do with taking Iraqi oil. If even the troops on our own side believe this myth, Stewart reflects, what hope of stopping most of the Iraqi population from believing it, too (p.108). After all, Iraq is sitting on the second biggest oil reserves in the world and yet throughout the Coalition’s rule, ordinary Iraqis had to form long lines at petrol stations. Why else could that be except that the West was stealing their oil? The real explanation, that Saddam’s extraction and refining industry was on its last legs and insurgents kept blowing up pipelines and facilities, was believed by no-one (p.152).

Talk of blowing up stuff raises the point that the Iraqis devoted an extraordinary amount of energy not just to killing each other, but to destroying the infrastructure of their own country (pages 205 to 206). The Great Looting in the days after the allied victory wasn’t an anomaly but a revelation of the true character of the Iraqis, a nation of looters and thieves.

Long after those days of chaos the looting continues. Everything not tied down is stolen. Factories are looted, warehouses are looted. In January, rioters storm the governor’s compound and loot every single piece of moveable furniture or equipment, even the filing cabinets (pages 289 to 297).

Several times Stewart mentions the practice of Iraqi criminal gangs who blow up power pylons so they can strip the copper from the coil, melt it down and sell it on the black market. The criminal gangs get tens of thousands of dollars from the venture but it costs the Americans tens of millions to rebuild series of pylons and rewire them. Obviously, most of the rest of the population suffers even worse power shortages than they already did.

As soon as he, the Italian garrison and the mercenaries withdraw from the CPA compound in Nasiriyah, it is comprehensively looted and trashed.

In a sentimental mode he describes the huge mudhif, a building built entirely out of marsh reeds using ancient skills of local builders, which had been constructed in such a way as to let light through a latticework of openings. It is ornate and beautiful as a cathedral. The Sadrists burn it to the ground.

When you have a people so absolutely determined to loot and vandalise their own country, what can you do? Leave them to get on with it.

On 28 June the CPA formally handed over authority to local council and governors in Iraq’s 34 provinces. The ones Stewart was involved in immediately plunge into chaos and violence. The Prince of the Marshes promptly allies with the Sadrists against the Iranian-backed parties. He shoots the chief of police of Majar dead. The remaining Coalition compounds such as the one where Stewart spent his first 6 months, in Amara, are now under continual, ferocious attack.

Church and state

It’s my view that it took hundreds of years for us in Britain to break the power of religion over the state. Three hundred years ago it took a civil war and a revolution to loosen the grip of the church over the nation’s political life. During the long Victorian century and well into the twentieth, the Christian denominations still exercised a very negative, anti-progressive influence, especially on what is loosely called the nation’s morals (anti-sex, anti-abortion, anti-free speech, anti-gay). It was a long, hard battle to overthrow religious influence on our national life.

Here, in this book, are countless examples of Muslim clerics insisting that their religion, their religious values, their ancient forms of social organisation and their dark age forms of political process eclipse, trump and obviate the need for ‘modern, ‘western’ ideas like democracy or human rights or women’s rights. A cleric named Seyyed Faqr puts it with particular clarity:

‘What matters is not the law. What matters is God, children, possessions, lives. These things are more important than the law. Forget the law. God is above the law and I represent God.’ (p.222)

But what happens if two clerics claim to represent God, a Sadrist and an Iranian? And if you throw in a Sunni cleric? And one from this tribe and one from that tribe? And they all claim a direct line from God so that they can’t negotiate or compromise? Then you have a recipe for endless civil war, as in Libya, Sudan, the Yemen, Iraq and Syria.

Only when all sides agree to abide by a law which is above all of them, impersonal and objective, and agree to thrash out their disagreements via legal channels, can you have a civil society. This is the lesson the Coalition Provisional Authority should have been trying to teach the fractious Iraqis. A legal system to which everyone submits, an independent judiciary, and an impartial police force, these are the bedrock of a civilised states, not the flashy trappings of elections. Elections and the trappings of democracy are a subset of law and order, which trumps every other concern. (cf p.315)

Humorous stories

Anyway, so far this summary has failed to mention the single most important thing, not about the book’s subject and themes, but about it’s style and manner. For this is an extremely readable and enjoyable book. I thought I’d had enough of books about Iraq and took it down off my shelf one evening only because I was bored watching TV. To my surprise, the next time I looked up, I was on page 50. I was hooked.

Occupational Hazards is beautifully written and by far the easiest to read of all the books I’ve read about Iraq and Afghanistan. A large part of that is down to Stewart’s appealingly British irony and deadpan humour which you may or may not attribute to classic upper-class sang-froid and irony. He expects things to go wrong and is never upset when they do. Many of the accounts of his meetings, with tribal leaders or top army officers, or foreign civilians in non-governmental organisations (NGOs) end with a bathetic, ironic, darkly humorous punchline.

It helps that so many of the facts are themselves blackly, bleakly comical, in the style of Evelyn Waugh’s comic accounts of Africa, walking a fine line between horror and hilarity. The secret is in the very dry, clipped phrasing. Here he is reflecting on the rather ludicrous title the Prince of the Marshes had awarded himself:

In truth, of course, Iraq didn’t have princes any more, and it hardly had marshes. The last princes were murdered on the kitchen steps of the palace in 1958 and disembowelled and mutilated in the streets, where the mob used the Regent’s intestines as necklaces. (p.18)

This is the Waugh tone, the casual, ironic, drawling half-humorous description of shocking criminality or scandalous behaviour:

I had spent my first two weeks almost entirely in my office or in camp and I was eager to visit rural towns, which I had heard were bastions of corruption, inefficiency and political tension. (p.90)

On one of these rural rides Stewart stops at an isolated compound to chat with a genuine farmer, not some politico with an axe to grind:

As I left I asked him what I should be doing. ‘Don’t trust the police chief, he replied. ‘He is a gangster. Don’t trust anyone who lives south of Al Amara. They are thieves and bandits.’
‘But you live south of Al Amara,’ I protested.
‘Don’t trust me either,’ he said. He presented me with a live guinea fowl in parting as a gift. (p.96)

The guinea fowl clinches the comedy of the anecdote. Whether this encounter ever happened or took place as Stewart recounts it, who cares? It’s not as if it made the slightest difference to what actually happened in Iraq. It’s these throwaway details at the end of each anecdote or cadence which give it the true Waugh feel.

The Bazun sheikhdom was in dispute between the two main families, one of which had stolen all the heavy digging equipment from the Ministry of Municipalities and Public Works. (p.234)

And:

We drove past the main government building, which Nate had seen demolished by rockets: only a fragile facade of coloured tiles remained, and a sculpture commemorating the Iraqis’ 1920 uprising against the British. It depicted a British officer being shot in the back of the head. (p.303)

Of course horrible things happen. For example, quite a few of the Western civilians, administrators and soldiers Stewart meets on his first arrival end up dead, shot or blown up in suicide attacks. And then, in April, the four US contractors are lynched and their burned bodies hung from a bridge in Fallujah (p.342) which so infuriates President George W. Bush that he orders the US Army to storm the city to find their murderers and ‘bring them  to justice’ ho ho ho. In the same week Muqtada al-Sadr starts his Shia rebellion across the whole south of the country. Hundreds and then thousands died as a result of these parallel insurgencies, one by Sunnis (Fallujah), one by Shias (Muqtada’s).

Black comedy

An extended comic sequence is provided by the story of the kidnapping of a British hostage, Gary Teeley. The first part is all panic and concern among CPA officials and the military to establish who kidnapped him and why and how to get him back. In the event, some of the many tribal leaders Stewart has been having lengthy discussions with simply turn up at the gates of the compound and hand over the filthy and disorientated Brit, directly to Stewart, in person, expecting thanks.

Over the next few days various other tribal and religious factions, including the Sadrists, contact Stewart to claim the credit for releasing Teeley, even though it seems fairly certain that some of them were the ones who kidnapped him in the first place.

But that’s just the start. Stewart debriefs the shattered and disorientated hostage, who had been kept blindfolded for a week, then packs him into an ambulance to be taken to the nearby Italian hospital. Walking back through the compound he is accosted by an irate British woman who tells him she is a hostage negotiator who has been on high alert for 3 days, why didn’t he contact her? Because he didn’t know she existed. Why did he hand over Teeley to the Italians? Because he clearly needed to go to a hospital to be checked over. Yes, says the woman, but he should have been sent to the British hospital at Basra.

By now Stewart realises there is a propaganda battle going on between the British and Italian military, both wanting to be seen to be the hostage’s liberators, not least for the benefit of the Americans and the CPA in Baghdad. Thus the Italian commander sends an email round claiming the release was the result of the Italians working with their favourite tribal leader, Sheikh Talib of the Beni Rikaab tribe.

But it’s not finished yet. The released Teeley turns out to be selling his story to the papers, and – in the style of Evelyn Waugh’s comic novel of Fleet Street, Scoop – three different British newspapers print three completely conflicting accounts of his ordeal. The Daily Telegraph leads with a big photo of the Italian general shaking hands with Teeley as if the Italians negotiated his release. Then The Sun reported that Teeley had been released by Italian forces who used a helicopter to track a suspicious car to an apartment which they then stormed, discovering the captive bound by the legs. Then The Mail on Sunday led with the scoop that the Italian forces who had been credited with finding and releasing Teeley were in fact elite SAS officers wearing Italian military outfits!

Three different packs of lies, each more outrageously untrue than its predecessor.

The moral(s) of the story

1. Stewart’s book shows in more granular detail than any other account the sheer folly of expecting a backward, illiterate, tribal, sectarian society full of cut-throat, corrupt, criminal and hyper-violent tribal, religious and political leaders to become anything like a democratic society in the sense we understand it.

In Stewart’s account any Iraqi leader who gains even a modicum of power immediately moves to reinforce their position, arm their followers, and harass, arrest or assassinate any possible rivals. Saddam politics. This is what even the Shia Prime Minister, Nouri al-Malaki, did as soon as the Americans finally withdrew, in 2011. I love the fact that the very day after the last US forces withdrew, Maliki issued an arrest warrant for his own vice president, the Sunni Tariq al-Hashemi, who was forced to flee to Turkey and, convicted of terrorism, was swiftly sentenced to death in his absence. Saddam politics.

2. If there’s one message from all this, as from all the other books I’ve read about the British effort in Iraq and Afghanistan, it’s not to believe a word about the Britain’s foreign exploits, either a) given in press releases by the military but b) even more by the British newspapers, who will fall over themselves to invent any old lies to promote their respective agendas (The Sun: ‘Our Brave Boys Save The Day’; The Telegraph: ‘Secret SAS Mission’; The Guardian: ‘Shame of British Troops’ etc).

Lasting thought

As I closed the book and reflected on it for a few days, one thought rose above all the others, which is that there are more Iraqi, Arab and Muslim voices in this than any other book I’ve read about Iraq or Afghanistan. OK, not saying things the Coalition or the West or Iraqi apologists or themselves would be very pleased to read. But all the other books I’ve read focus on Americans and Brits and Westerners and the occupiers – Stewart’s book, alone, goes way out of its way to focus on the actual Iraqis he met and talked to and tried and failed to manage.

In fact, this ends up being the conclusion of the epilogue he added to the paperback edition of the book published in 2007. By that point the insurgency had become general and had evolved in many places into a sectarian civil war. Stewart criticises politicians, academics and journalists for dealing in fine words, abstract concepts and abstract statistics.

No one is offering a granular and patient account of the insurgency in all its evolving and surprising multiplicity. We prefer the universal and the theoretical: the historical analogy and the statistics. But politics is local, the catastrophe of Iraq is discovered best through individual interactions.

And it’s precisely a multitude of such ‘individual interactions’, bleakly disillusioning though most of them are, that this impressive, illuminating and drily humorous book offers, in abundance.


Credit

Occupational Hazards by Rory Stewart was published by Picador in 2006. References are to the revised 2007 Picador paperback edition.

New world disorder reviews

3 Para by Patrick Bishop (2007)

‘Whatever the difficulties and risks of this deployment…those risks are nothing compared to the dangers to our country and our people of allowing Afghanistan to fall back into the hands of the Taliban and the terrorists. We will not allow that. And the Afghan people will not allow that.’

(Defence Secretary John Reid lying to the House of Commons on 26 January 2006 to justify the British Army deployment to Helmand Province, south Afghanistan. Sixteen years later Afghanistan is back in the hands of the Taliban. We allowed it. And the Afghan people allowed it. And do our country and our people feel scared by all those dangers Reid grandly warned us about? No)

But the Taliban kept on coming.
(Situation at Sangin and all the other British outposts, p.230)

This is a thorough, detailed and gripping account of the deployment of the Third Battalion, the Parachute Regiment (3 Para) to Helmand Province in southern Afghanistan from April to October 2006. It’s designed to be a popular and accessible account, as the cover of the paperback edition suggests, with its tell-tale embossed letters on the cover and shouty straplines such as you’d see on a movie poster:

AFGHANISTAN 2006. THIS IS WAR.

REAL COMBAT. REAL HEROES. TRUE STORY.

But the text isn’t as dumb as the cover suggests. You can question Bishop’s fairly uncritical acceptance of the Parachute Regiment at their own estimation (men’s men from the best regiment in the British Army) and question his downplaying of some of the issues mentioned but not really explored in his account (notably the vexed issue of collateral or civilian casualties). But that’s not his purpose. He’s not a historian of the entire campaign, writing at a high strategic level. His narrative is deliberately and breath-takingly a boots-on-the-ground, soldier’s eye-view of desperate fighting, against the odds, in an alien country, 5,000 miles from home.

3 Para is a detailed, gripping and immensely authoritative depiction of what the face of modern warfare looks like to the men on the receiving end of Kalashnikovs mortars and rocket-propelled grenades (RPGs). This book does what it sets out to do really well, crisply and efficiently.

The Parachute Regiment

Bishop gives a good potted history of the Parachute Regiment, describing its formation during the Second World War, notoriety gained in Northern Ireland from the Bloody Sunday killings, glory won in the Falklands. He describes the gruelling training required to join this elite force and the sense of pride teetering on arrogance this gives ‘Toms’, as members of the regiment call each other, over every other regiment in the army, who they collectively dismiss as crap hats or just ‘hats’. (Incidentally, all the officers and men refer to themselves as ‘the blokes’, not guys or lads. It’s always ‘the blokes’, ‘my blokes’ etc, for example p.220.)

He gives a pen portrait of the Paras’ commanding officer, Lieutenant Colonel Stuart Tootal, like many senior officers in the British Army, a formidably intelligent man, with a Masters Degree in International Relations from Cambridge and an MA in war studies from King’s College London.

He describes the background to the deployment of British forces to Afghanistan in April 2006, including Defence Secretary John Reid’s notorious claim that he hoped the three-year deployment would pass without a single shot being fired.

The force package

There’s a great deal about the make-up of the British force which was deployed to Afghanistan. I always find these bits of military books extremely confusing containing, as they do, a bewildering array of names and numbers of regiments and brigades.

The Helmand Task Force was drawn from 16 Air Assault Brigade based in Colchester. At its heart was 3 Para. Air support was provided by seven Chinook helicopters provided by the RAF. The big choppers were only lightly armed and so had to be accompanied by eight Apache attack helicopters which were provided by 9 Regiment of the Army Air Corps. (One Chinook was shot down in Afghanistan, killing all 16 soldiers aboard. The Apache bodyguards were vital, p.67.) Four Hercules C-130 transports were supplied by the RAF.

3 Para, like all infantry battalions, is configured in tiers. It consisted of A, B and C companies which were rifle companies, augmented by Support Company (machine guns, mortars, anti-tank weapons) and D company (intelligence, signals, target acquisition [snipers] and reconnaissance). 3 Para were supported by a company from the Royal Gurkha Rifles and a detachment from the Royal Irish Regiment. The armoured element was provided by the Household Cavalry Regiment with their Scimitars and Spartans. The Royal Horse Artillery’s 7th Parachute Regiment would contribute a battery of 105 light guns. The operation was supported by a parachute-trained squadron of light engineers from 23 Engineer Regiment, units from the Royal Logistics Corps and the Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers and medics from 16 Close Support Medical Regiment. An advance force of engineers were deployed to build camps protected by a company from the Royal Marines 42 Commando (p.28).

I give the list verbatim to show two things. One, it really brings home the importance and the responsibility placed on the planners who had to work out what was needed, where it was going to come from, and how to send it all half way round the world.

Second point is how challenging it must have been for commanders like Brigadier Ed Butler or Lieutenant Colonel Tootal to fully grasp what was available to them and who could be pulled into planned missions or called upon when emergency struck. Their roles required an in-depth understanding not just of the names and numbers but a good working knowledge of what all these personnel were good at, or could be called upon to do, in a pinch, in a crisis.

Too many aims

Bishop explains the problems facing the deployment which were of roughly three types and which were to snarl up and undermine the mission.

1. Confused aims

The NATO deployment was meant to be:

a) helping ‘the Afghan people build a democratic state with strong security forces and an economy that will support civil society’ (as you can see, there are actually three distinct goals in that one sentence). At the same time

b) it was to work with the Department for International Development to deliver ‘a tailored package of political, developmental and military assistance’ to the Afghan people

AND c) the troops would be expected to ‘support international efforts to counter the narcotics trade which poisons the economy in Afghanistan and poisons so many young people in this country.’ (p.27)

2. Chain of command

Brigadier Ed Butler was chosen to command the force. Canada was in overall command of the NATO effort, with its base in Kandahar. Because of Canadian army base was also being commanded by a brigadier, army etiquette demanded that Butler step aside allow a more junior officer to command his men. This meant Butler would have to oversee operations from Kabul (p.45) Meanwhile Tootal discovered he would have to answer to a new layer of command with Colonel Charlie Knaggs put in formal charge of the Helmand Task Force. Then Butler discovered his headquarters would not be doing the operational planning but that a staff officer from army headquarters in Northwood would be drawing up the crucial operational plan.

The words ‘piss-up’ and ‘brewery’ spring to mind.

3. National and local politics

The brigade and even the British contingent as a whole didn’t have autonomy. They were fitting into an international force whose members had rival agendas. The Americans had little interest in the reconstruction effort and wanted the Brits to support Operation Mountain Thrust, their campaign of ‘decapitation’ i.e. seeking out and killing Taliban leaders. In contrast, the government of Afghan president Hamid Karzai didn’t want the Brits to do anything which would alienate local tribal chiefs who, of course, got tribute from all the farmers growing poppies. He wanted the Brits to extend the authority of the Kabul government without ruffling feathers.

Diary of fighting

But all this background is in a sense just the setting, the stage, for the guts of the narrative. This consists of a kind of diary of the deployment and, above all, of the fierce fighting the unit quickly found itself engaged in. Dates are prominent and used to specify the day-by-day series of events. These are all-too-often optimistic outings from the various bases which almost immediately encountered problems and turned into devastating firefights.

Bishop must have had extraordinary access to 3 Para because the text is crammed full of direct quotes from officers and men commenting on all aspects of the story, from the initial deployment and the pitiful state they found Camp Bastion in, through these numerous hair-raising engagements.

A Company arrived at Camp Bastion on 15 April to find their accommodation not built yet. They dossed in tents on the desert sand with no showers or toilet facilities. Tootal arrived 18 April. His brigade was to patrol the triangle formed by Bastion, the provincial capital Lashkar Gah, and the market town of Gereshk, 20 miles north east of the base.

Even on their first patrol of Gereshk seasoned paras who’d served in Northern Ireland recognised the signs. There was a charged vibe and many of the young men stared at the troops challengingly. They realised they were being dicked, ‘dicking’ being a term coined in Northern Ireland to describe the way IRA sympathisers signalled to gunmen the passage of British patrols.

Less than two weeks later on 1 May a convoy returning from a first shura with elders was briefly hit by a scoot and shoot attack i.e. a single concealed gunman letting off a burst from a kalashnikov. Paradoxically, Gereshk remained peaceful for the rest of the deployment; it was all the other towns which kicked off.

The Brits discovered the Afghan police were even more corrupt than the Iraqi version. Some of the 22 checkpoints at the entrance to Gereshk had been subcontracted to gunmen to extort whatever they wanted from civilians who wanted to pass. The training course NATO had set up was at Kandahar 80 miles away. Even keen recruits only stuck it out for a few days then absconded.

18 May Gunmen attacked on the district centre at Musa Qala. On 20 May a convoy carrying Afghan Army soldiers, American and French trainers was ambushed: 15 soldiers and 2 Frenchmen were killed. Convoys got attacked or lost. Troops had to be sent out to rescue them who themselves came under attack and radioed for air cover.

The Afghan government asked for protection for the village of Now Zad and Butler sent a troop of Gurkha soldiers. These were to become stuck in the town and come under fierce attack. A few days later the provincial governor, Daoud, requested help for a village a hundred miles north where one of his supporters was coming under attack, so Butler dutifully flew some men up there, to discover no attack at all.

Butler didn’t like the way the deployment was evolving. 1) He was having to deploy troops to beleaguered towns like Now Zad and Musa Qasa, which then became magnets for heavily armoured attacks by Taliban. Any reinforcements setting out from Bastion were bound to be ambushed on the way. Or 2) he was acting as paid security for Daoud and his backers a job the Afghan police or army or both should have been doing. Both of which were replacing the supposed strategy of securing the Bastion triangle and then systematically expanding the area of peace and security from there. He was becoming too reactive, reacting to events (i.e. the ambushes and firefights launched by the Taliban), losing the initiative (p.85).

There was a feeling among the men that the British were too compliant with the wishes of the Afghans and that their own mission was being twisted put of shape by local political considerations. (p.110)

General points

1. The NATO forces were screwed without air cover. Again and again and again and again, when they come under attack, the Paras radio for jet fighters to come in and strike the enemy positions with 1,000 kilo bombs. Or, when there are casualties, they desperately radio for Chinook helicopters to come and evacuate them. But a) there were never enough Chinooks and b) the Chinooks were so lightly armed and vulnerable that they could only enter the battlespace if accompanied by Apache attack helicopters (p.58).

All these desperate radio calls for air back-up prompt one simple thought. In the end the Taliban won without any super-expensive, gee whizz, air support at all. Just by having the numbers and dogged persistence. Just like the Viet Cong.

2. Second thing I noticed is how, in the second quarter of the book i.e. after the Paras have arrived and as they each individually experience their first engagement, once back at base they each congratulate themselves on how well they’ve performed, how their training had worked, how nobody had faltered or frozen and everyone behaved as trained. Good lads!

‘Everyone was elated, We had all succeeded. No one had backed down or done anything cowardly.’ (p.66 and p.82)

They had blooded themselves, been put the test and proven true, proved worthy of their regiment, their training and, in many cases, of their father and grandfathers who served before them. They had become men.

‘For the first time you felt legitimised. You felt that you had done it for real now and it was good, it was good.’ (p.83)

I know it’s understandable, I dare say I’d feel the same. But it’s a small example of what Frank Ledwidge calls the inward-facing mindset of the British troops in both countries. As the security situations deteriorated, commanders’ number one priority became protecting their men. As time went by, the attacks became more fierce, the outings from fortified platoon camps more rare, simply surviving became the sole priority.

All talk of development, talk of eradicating the poppy crop and restructuring the entire rural economy – something that even in peacetime would have taken years of government funding and careful planning – all this stuff vanished like morning dew (p.265). Within a few months Butler and Tootal had placed their men in situations of mortal danger and their overriding priority had become trying to protect their men from ceaseless attack.

Notable engagements

4 June Operation Mutay to surround and capture an ammunition store, possible IED factory, in Now Zad, which degenerates into a long hard-fought battle in the confusing back alleys and smallholdings of the town.

11 June Mission to retrieve a Desert Hawk unmanned air vehicle that had crashed in the desert. Ambushed by Taliban the convoy of NATO troops get into real trouble.

13 June American convoy ambushed, A company told to fly to the last reported location and extract surviving Americans. The Paras are themselves attacked and forced to bunk down in the desert overnight as water runs dangerously short until a Chinook finally arrives to extract the wounded and drop water. It took 30 hours in all rather than the 2 they were told.

Early June the Support Company’s mortar platoon was sent to reinforce a handful of American security guys and Afghan Army forces guarding the prestigious Kajaki dam, a major source of power and irrigation for the entire province, built with American development money in the 1950s and still just about functioning. The dam was coming under steadily heavier attack which was demoralising the Afghan army inside it. Support company was sent to surprise the next Taliban attack by replying in force with mortars and machine guns.

27 June C Company with support elements rumbled in a convoy to the village of Zumbelay east of Gereshk. After a shura the village elders recommend they leave by a different road on which they run into an ambush, with different troops becoming separated and caught in localised firefights which went on after sunset.

21 June The Paras were sent on an operation to Sangin which should have lasted at most a few days but led to them being stuck there for the remainder of their time in Helmand. It was another reactive and policing action. Two days earlier the Taliban had ambushed a convoy carrying a former district chief killing him and his bodyguards. A posse of relatives set out to retrieve the bodies and they too were ambushed and 25 killed. Among the wounded was the son of the district chief. Once again governor Daoud asked Charlie Knaggs if his troops could rescue the boy and once again the Paras were sent on what was really a policing job. The justification was that it would maintain and/or extend the reach of central government.

The second half of the book focuses on the paras taking over the compound of the district centre just on the edge of Sangin, fortifying it, then coming under probing fire, then sustained attack.

1 July The FSG directly hit by a RPG which killed three and badly injured five. Desperate scenes as the medical officer Harvey Pinn tried to save the wounded. The Chinooks take a long time coming to evacuate them. After this murderous night Tootal considered evacuating the entire force from Sangin but they had got themselves into a political trap. With each new attack fought off Sangin became more and more symbolic for both sides. Defeat and withdrawal would amount to a huge victory for the Taliban and a defeat for both governor Daoud and the Kabul government which 3 Para were there to support. So stay they had to.

5 July Troops were ordered to secure the area south of the compound for helicopters. They are ambushed which develops into a fierce fight during which Damien Jackson was shot through the torso and bled to death despite his colleagues’ frantic efforts.

By now there were contingents posted at Sangin, Now Zad, Musa Qaleh, Kajaki and Forward Operating Base Robinson i.e. the force was spread thin. Contrary to everything the army general staff told the politicians and the politicians told the country:

  • There were simply not enough men to do the job. (p.147)
  • The problem was there were never enough soldiers. (p.201)

Cut to the Pathfinders who were sent on a temporary mission to Musa Qaleh and ended up getting stuck there. Bishop describes repeated attempts to relieve them which were driven back by fierce attacks, and the nightly attacks on the compound, until the Pathfinders began to run low on food and ammunition. A Danish relief force under Major Lars Ulslev broke through the Taliban siege on 26 July to reinforce and resupply the garrison, and the two nationalities fought alongside each other for a further 2 weeks. The Pathfinders didn’t leave Musa Kaleh until 6 August. In fact it took an entire battlegroup operation to get them out. A couple of day deployment had turned into 52 gruelling days, subject to daily attacks.

During the endless night attacks, one of the planes the Pathfinders called in for support bombed a mosque. When the Danes met the town elders the latter demanded that the coalition pack up and leave. All their presence did was bring trouble (p.165). When Ulslev made it clear the NATO forces were staying many of the townspeople packed up and left until Musa Qaleh became a ghost town. The NATO mission there would turn out to be a disaster for them (p.256).

14 July Operation Augustus, allotted to the Brits by the American senior officer, Major General Benjamin Freakley, to seize a Taliban leader running a madrassas a few miles north of Sangin. Two hundred Paras were choppered in protected by a Spectre gunship, a UAV, Harriers and Apaches. Bishop gives a vivid detailed description of this major engagement. A lot of blowing up and air support plus the arrival of the Canadians in armoured vehicle, but when they finally blast their way into the compounds the Taliban has left and there’s no sigh of the leader they were sent to capture.

Chapter 13 describes the prolonged ordeal of the 40 or so Gurkhas who held the district centre at Now Zad against wave after wave of Taliban attacks. When they’d arrived the town elders asked them not to stay, knowing it would attract the Taliban, but they remained, in accordance with the wishes of Governor Daoud and were subject to an amazing intensity of attack, in one week being attacked 35 times. Soldiers were forbidden to move around the compound during daylight hours for fear of being sniped by Taliban sharpshooters.

They survived and called down repeated air strikes which exterminated Taliban positions and must have killed over a hundred of them. Yet they kept on coming back. Two points emerge. One: it was a big mistake to be forced to ally with the Afghan police, nominal representatives of the Kabul government, who were in fact a byword for corruption, kidnapping, extortion, rape and paedophilia (pages 184 and 211). Allying with them ruined the NATO forces’ reputation.

Second: as the Taliban moved in, townspeople wisely left. By the time the Gurkhas were relieved by a force from the Royal Fusiliers, the town was a) empty, a ghost town and b) very badly damaged. They had survived, astonishingly with no mortal injuries. But mission accomplished?

Chapter 14

27 July and back to Sangin, manned by B Company which endured up to six firefights a day. A digression on the setup and kit used by snipers (p.195). The Taliban were becoming more organised and effective. Intelligence speculated that losses of local fighters had been made up with imports from neighbouring Pakistan who were much better trained and tactically imaginative (p.217). Hence the Brits rarely patrolled with fewer than 40 troops. Nerves and defeatist talk spread as the soldiers realised that every single patrol would be attacked, some as close as 40 metres from the outpost.

20 August A patrol aiming to find a new path through the area north of the outpost runs right into Taliban fighters. In moments three of Corporal Bryan Budd’s eight-man 1 Section are wounded and down. On the spur of the moment Budd charged the Taliban single handed firing continuously making them desist firing or retreat long enough for the rest of his squad to extract the casualties. Later his dead body was recovered. He was posthumously awarded the Victoria Cross (p.218). His death demoralised the blokes.

29 August A full battle group operation to convoy in and install an air-portable bridge across the river Helmand west of the Sangin outpost. This triggers a fierce firefight in which platoon sergeant Paddy Caldwell is shot in the neck.

The experience of the Danish force, nicknamed the Griffins, which came to Musa Qaleh, 140 strong with 46 light armoured Eagle vehicles. A force from the Royal Irish Regiment replaced the Pathfinders to fight alongside the Griffins and discovered an outpost under unrelenting daily bombardment. They destroy houses close to the base which could provide cover, they blow the backs of houses off so they can see silhouettes moving about.

The battle group’s tenure of Musa Qaleh appeared to be achieving nothing other than the steady destruction of the town. (p.232)

The Royal Irish came to call it ‘Camp Shit Hole’.

14 August a Taliban attack so intense, from so many angles, that the platoon commander described it as like World War III. Our boys withdraw to a large container as shelter from a relentless barrage of mortars.

The incoming commander of the International Security Assistance Force in Afghanistan dislikes the outpost system and wants to withdraw troops from the platoon forts, but is prevented by the Prime Minister who says this would be handing the towns over to the Taliban. Corporal Danny Groves is quoted as very sensibly pointing out the Taliban already control the towns; all the allies control is an area about 100 metres from the walls of their forts and barely that, seeing as they are subjected to hourly attacks (p.235).

The Danish government withdraws its men from Musa Qaleh who are replaced by a cobbled together British force. The Danes had better food, better equipment and more medical officers. And they were a laugh. They were missed. The Danes were extracted in a full battle group operation with a convoy of lorries, persuading the Taliban the outpost was now ripe for taking.

26 August A concerted Taliban attack to take the Musa Qaleh outpost, phased attacks staged by some 150 fighters (p.240). There were seven attacks in the next 24 hours. It didn’t stop and attrition was wearing down the defenders.

1 September Intense mortar attack gets a direct hit on the main mortar launch site, killing a popular Fijian solder, wounding another who died later in hospital.

2 September Mass attack on Musa Qaleh results in six Royal Irish casualties.

6 September Back to the Kajaki dam, which had come under regular attack throughout the period. When Taliban are seeing setting up a roadblock on a road a mile away our boys go to investigate and blunder into a minefield. One is killed, five severely wounded. It’s a traumatic account. On the same day there were casualties at Sangin and Musa Qaleh, causing casualties. Bishop’s account of the bravery of Chinook pilot Mark Hammond who flew to all three sites to evacuate casualties under heavy fire made me cry. What incredible bravery. He was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross (p.250). As Dan Mills says, in Sniper One, balls the size of watermelons.

The occupiers of the Musa Qalej outpost had beaten back over 100 attacks in 40 days. Three had been killed and 15 injured.

Soldiers’ humour

The district centre/compound at Musa Qaleh is under attack, as usual:

Three of the Pathfinders grabbed their kit and ran across open ground swept by fire, up a ladder and along a 30-foot makeshift bridge that led to the roof of the outpost. They began returning fire. Among them was Lance Corporal Tony Robinson, an Australian on an exchange posting. Robinson was keen to fire the 51mm mortar located on the Outpost, something he had never done before. He dropped a bomb into the barrel and it soared off into the night. But there was no explosion. Someone asked him whether he had removed the safety pin. He replied, ‘There’s a safety pin on these things?’ The collective shout of ‘Knob!’ could be heard over the gunfire. (p.160)

How to win a medal

Quite a few of the soldiers received medals after the deployment and Bishop devotes an appendix to carefully listing them all. It’s interesting to learn what kind of behaviour wins a medal. On 24 July the Outpost at Musa Qaleh was attacked and two RPGs hit the sangar, destroying it and destroying the western edge of the roof which collapsed to the ground below. Two Danes were on the roof and when the smoke cleared one was seen doggedly returning fire. But the other, Lieutenant Thomas Rydahl, had fallen with the roof, two storeys down into a pile of rubble where he lay in full view of the attacking Taliban, a sitting duck.

Several Paras ran under fire along a walkway to the roof to join the shooting Dane. The Australian Tony Robinson looked over the damaged bit of roof down at Rydahl lying exposed and had a brainwave. There was an old bedstead on the undamaged part of the roof and Robinson hung it over the side, then climbed down it under direct fire from the enemy. He quickly learned the Dane had a broken leg so wasn’t able to shin up a vertical bedstead, so Robinson rooted around in the rubble and found a ladder, placed it against the rubble stack and pushed the wounded Dane back up onto the roof where his colleagues pulled him up, and so to safety.

For this act of extraordinary bravery under fire Robinson won the Military Cross (p.164). (See also the valour of Bryan Budd, mentioned above.)

A Para poem

The Paras nicknamed the enemy ‘Terry Taliban’. This anonymous poem was pinned up in one of the sangars at Sangin.

Watch out Terry, we’re hunting you down
There’s nowhere to hide in Sangin town
You shit yourself when the .50-cals are fired
No point in running, you’ll only die tired
Got A-10s on call for brassing you up
No food or water, we don’t give a fuck
So do one, Terry, you’ve plenty to fear
We run this town now. The Paras are here.
(p.197)

Bit tough on any of the Brits who were actually named Terry.

In the last furlong of the book more and more of the blokes change their tune and pay tribute to the Taliban. They must have taken casualties in the hundreds of dead with many more wounded but they absolutely would not stop and the tempo of attacks only increased.

The end

As September 2006 drew to a close the mood music changed. The British had intelligence that the Taliban had identified the helicopters as the weakest element in the allied force. Ed Butler realised that all it would take would be for one helicopter to be shot down for him to be faced with the agonising decision of whether to send in another one to extract the casualties but risk undergoing the same fate.

The incoming head of ISAF, General David Richards thought the situation he inherited, with the force distributed among the outposts, had been a mistake. He thought Butler had been mistaken in acceding to Governor Daoud’s wishes to ‘save’ this or that town from the Taliban. But he didn’t want to unilaterally withdraw. That would look like a NATO defeat (as it indeed would be).

While the senior brass agonised about what to do the elders of Musa Qaleh solved it for them by brokering a peace. They asked the Taliban to stop the fighting which was destroying the town and, once this was agreed, Ed Butler willingly agreed, too. A ceasefire was declared on 12 September just 6 days after the disastrous minefield day. In a historic event 60 or so of the town elders walked out to the bullet-riddled fortress, were welcomed in and given soft drinks, accompanied by a cohort of young intense-looking men dressed in black, who said nothing. The deal agreed was a month of peace then the British would withdraw. The elders would provide family members to police the town. The Taliban would withdraw. Handshakes all round. Within hours the centre of the town began to come back to life.

The Paras expected attacks to start up at any moment but they didn’t. The entire month went by without a shot being fired. In mid-October the garrison of the Musa Qaleh outpost was withdrawn.

But Terry hadn’t given up across the rest of the province, Incidents fell away but whether that was because the Taliban were exhausted, were running short of fighters, that local elders were intervening or it was the start of the poppy season, noone knew. There were 76 shooting incidents between 18 September and the official end of the battle group’s tour on 6 October.

The Para cohort in Sangin were relieved by Royal Marines. The Paras and their battle group comrades had been in Sangin for 91 days during which time they clashed with the Taliban 138 times (p.264). One by one A, B, C and the new E company were moved out. Tootal handed over responsibility for the British Battle Group to the Marines on 31 October 2006.

As to the aid and development we promised all the Afghans in all these different towns and communities, by the time the Paras arrived they’d been hearing the same promises off and on for five years. Bishop describes Para officers attending shuras and making the same promises which the Afghan elders listened to again, with polite disbelief. And then nothing happened. For the full three years.

Little progress had been made on reconstruction, the underlying purpose of the deployment. No ‘quick impact’ projects had been delivered…Instead of construction there had been destruction…the areas around the district centres of Musa Qaleh, Now Zad and Sangin were scarred and battered by the continuous battles. The people of these places had no reason to love the British. (p.266)

A foreign view

The Brits were part of a much wider NATO operation. Bishop occasionally mentions members of other nations’ forces, like the French who are killed in a Taliban attack, or the Danes who battled through to relieve the Pathfinders at Musa Qaleh.

It would be really interesting to read about their experiences, about a different national approach from the Americans or the Brits who I’ve been reading about. Their opinions of the Afghans, the deployment, about us. Would be interesting.

Even more obviously, I wonder if there are any accounts of the Taliban view of all of this, the allied invasion of 2001 or the NATO deployment of 2006.

Broader context

Which leads onto another obvious thought which is – this book is very limited in both subject and time. The British deployment was only part of the much larger NATO deployment. If you look at maps of the campaign you immediately see that US forces held camps and outposts to the north and south of the British, while the Canadians held Kandahar and other NATO members other areas. Presumably it was all kicking off there, as well, but Bishop gives little or no indication of how the other allies were faring, what methods they pursued, how the British effort and experience differed from our allies’.

And, timewise, Bishop ends his account in spring 2007 with a premonition that the Paras are going to be deployed back to Afghanistan but, of course, that was 16 years ago. A huge amount has happened since, up to and including the final US withdrawal in 2021. This is an incredibly vivid of a snapshot in time but reminds me, again, that I need to be reading more up-to-date accounts.

Ledwidge’s view

I came to Bishop’s full-on, soldier’s eye-view account from reading Frank Ledwidge’s high-level strategic analysis of both the campaigns, in Iraq and Afghanistan. Ledwidge gives perspective. I can see why Bishop, in order to get full access to all the soldiers in 3 Para writes with enormous sympathy and takes them largely at their own valuation. Ledwidge is far more distanced and objective:

Ledwidge says it was a very bad idea to break up the British forces deployed to Afghanistan into small units deployed to miniature ‘forts’ in ten or so regional towns. They should have remained concentrated in the capital, Lashkar Gah, from where they could have projected maximum force. Instead, distributed as small troops to remote and difficult-to-supply towns, the Brits quickly became targets of local insurgents and malcontents, determined to avenge the slight to their honours and manhood created by these invaders.

Their stated aim was to decapitate the Taliban leadership, neutralise the insurgency, and restore law and order so that reconstruction and aid projects could go ahead. In the event, none of those objectives were achieved during the Paras’ tour or, indeed, during British Army’s 13 years in Afghanistan.

Instead the scattered squads found themselves besieged in an archipelago of isolated Alamos, subject to relentless mortar and rocket propelled grenade attacks and liable, the second they tried to leave their compounds, to murderous attacks which almost always caused casualties, thus necessitating the very dangerous visit of evacuation helicopters which, half the time, came under such intense fire they had to retreat without landing. Or calling in air strikes which, no matter how careful both callers and pilots were, unavoidably caused collateral damage. Bishop acknowledges the bombing of the mosque in Musa Qaleh but only once address the question of how many innocent civilians must have been killed or wounded in the endless firefights and regular air attacks (p.205).

Bishop’s entire narrative presents this as the courageous endurance of our brave boys and I don’t for a minute doubt that they showed personal courage which I couldn’t imagine or dream of. But they were only having to fight against such odds because their superiors fucked up. In several places Bishop refers to the Paras’ tradition of holding out and punching above their weight. But to quote Ledwidge:

There is no virtue in entering a fight at a disadvantage. Heroic, outnumbered actions are not primarily accounts of courage; they are often testaments to inadequate contingency planning and poor strategy. The purpose of military action backed by well-thought-out strategy is to apply maximum force to an enemy’s key centres of gravity, not to allow forces too small for the task to be in a position where they can be overrun or fail. (Losing Small Wars by Frank Ledwidge, page 276)

The plucky underdog trope

You can’t help noticing the way Bishop’s narrative of endurance in last-ditch situations plays to tropes embedded deep in British popular history and culture about the plucky Brits battling against the odds.

The Charge of the Light Brigade, Zulu, the Somme, Dunkirk, The Battle of Britain, A Bridge Too Far, and now struggling to survive in embattled forts in Iraq and Afghanistan – movies and books have created a deep reservoir of narratives and images and national feeling about our brave boys fighting against the odds, and Bishop’s book is squarely in this tradition.

This explains why it has so many endorsements from reviewers plastered across the back and inside pages – because it reads not just like a movie but a movie filled with reassuring, comforting stereotypes. Tough guys don’t make a fuss when their legs are blown off, the heroic group leader makes firm decisions under great pressure, the brave helicopter pilot goes back into the battle zone to collect the last of our brave boys, the devoted medical officer braves a hail of bullets to try and save the mortally injured man.

This all works very well on its own terms. It’s a gripping and inspiring narrative. But unfortunately Ledwidge, operating at a higher, strategic level, says it’s all bullshit, because it didn’t have to be this way. It only ended up like this – plucky heroes fighting against the odds in embattled outposts – because of a whole series of mistakes made by higher-ups, from the general staff who suggested the deployment and the politicians who believed their overoptimistic claims, and involved lack of clarity about an end point and how to get there, ignorance about the complexity of the political and cultural situations we were blundering into, and bad tactical decisions.

Bishop is aware that the decision to dilute the force by deploying small squads to isolated outposts which would be hard to defend and very hard to resupply was controversial, even at the time. He devotes space to quoting Ed Butler and Stuart Tootal explaining that their task was to extend the rule of the Kabul government, so when the provincial governor told them they had to prevent the town of Now Zad or Musa Qaleh falling into Taliban hands, there was a strong case for doing what he – the local representative of the Kabul government – requested (repeated on p.266).

Nonetheless, it was an operational mistake which doomed the mission to failure.

Footnotes

1. ‘Cracking on’

Frank Ledwidge has a lot to say about the British Army’s mantra of ‘cracking on’ in the face of growing difficulties. This, he says, is entirely wrong. A mature army would step back, assess the situation, rethink the overall strategy. ‘Cracking on’ is the strategic equivalent of throwing good money after bad.

‘Cracking on’ was the Paras’ answer to all setbacks. They tried to forget what was happening and carry on with the mission that now seemed starker and more daunting. Things had stated to go wrong. (p.129)

Having read Ledwidge, then, influenced by my reading of all the places in Bishop’s text where he describes just this attitude of ‘cracking on’, made me realise the words he describes it in betray his and the Paras’ ambivalence about this dogged attitude.

  • [After the death of Budd, Lieutenant Andy] Mallett prepared himself to deliver the inevitable ‘cracking on’ pep talk. (p.222)
  • The only answer was to crack on, not out of any belief in the War on Terror but from a sense of duty to your mates, your unit and your regiment. (p.224)

At tactical level, this is, indeed, necessary, But at a higher, operational level, this, Ledwidge says, is when you need to stop and rethink your whole approach. In fact, tellingly, this is the final thought in the final sentences of this extremely good book. At the time of writing, early 2007, it seems like the Paras might be sent back to the ongoing conflict in Afghanistan:

In Colchester preparations are already under way for another deployment. The Paras are approaching it with an enthusiasm which seems undiminished by their recent ordeal. There are no dramas. They are just cracking on. ‘It’s what we do,’ said [Regimental Sergeant Major] John Hardy. (p.269)

Exactly.

(In his impressive history of the war, Jack Fairweather links the army mantra of just ‘cracking on’, in which showing emotion was seen as a weakness, to the failure to take post traumatic stress disorder seriously enough or provide adequate psychiatric care for soldiers coming out of combat. See A War of Choice, page 256.)

2. The influence of films

I’m predisposed against films, especially American Hollywood movies. I think movies, as a form, are a corrupting and degrading influence. To put it at its simplest, many American movies send one message – that you’re not a real man, or nowadays a real person, till you’ve picked up a gun and shot someone.

Justified revenge

To justify killing, many American movies set up a scenario where the professional assassin, government spook etc has retired, left the business – but then someone kills his wife and children and from that point onwards the film is just a list of horrific revenge murders. Thousands of American movies tell one story, the narrative of Justified Revenge.

Good guys, bad guys

And they’re always numbingly simplistic: there’s good guys (often just one guy, single) and bad guys. The good guy gets to kill tens (these days scores and scores) of bad guys. The John Wicks movies make entertainment from showing a superhumanly gifted killer shooting scores and scores and scores of people in the head.

Arguably these two dumb stupid tropes – justified revenge and good guys/bad guys – underlay George W. Bush’s entire War on Terror. Bad guys attacked us; we are justified in taking unlimited revenge.

To give a concrete example, from Iraq not Afghanistan, on 31 March 2003 gunmen ambushed four American contractors outside Fallujah, a city to the west of Baghdad, beat them to death, burned their bodies and hung them from a bridge over the river Euphrates while jeering crowds danced in celebration. Footage of all this was beamed round the world. Bush was horrified and vowed revenge. He ordered the US Army to go into the city to seize the ‘bad guys’.

This ridiculously impossible task of course led to all-out war with the insurgents and the First Battle of Fallujah. All round the world were beamed footage of houses being destroyed, terrified civilians being rounded up, and thousands of refugees fleeing the city as the civilian casualties grew into the hundreds. All round the Arab world young men decided they had to go to Iraq to fight these genocidal invaders.

Fairweather quotes part of the Bush speech on the original atrocity where Bush says: ‘the American people want to know that we’re going after the bad guys’ (p.111).

The simple-minded dichotomies, the binary polarities of a thousand Hollywood movies, which divide people up into the Good Guys (John Wayne, Bruce Willis) and the Bad Guys (wearing black hats), governed US policy throughout the twentieth century. This worked fine when there really were unambiguously Bad Guys, like the Nazis, but not so well in societies riven with complex ethnic, religious, social and political divides, such as Vietnam or Iraq.

Back in Fallujah, inevitably, in order to bring the ‘murderers to justice’, many times more US troops were killed and injured than the original 4 contractors. In the end 37 US troops were killed and over 600 Iraqi civilians. The city was devastated. Thousands fled. America suffered a huge PR disaster across the Arab world. Not only this but it imperilled US policy at the highest level when the entire Sunni membership of the provisional Iraqi government threatened to quit.

Lastly and with thumping inevitability, the supposed murderers of the contractors were never found. So was this a wise decision, balancing tactical kneejerk response in the broader framework of strategic requirements? No. It was a crass, dumb and counter-productive move.

So, back to films. All this explains why, when I read the inevitable comparisons the Paras make to firefights and situations to movies, it triggers the thought process outlined above and makes me realise how deep the baleful, immoral and misleading influence of simple-minded movie narratives extend into both American and British military thinking and policy making, with disastrous results.

  • ‘It was like a case of duelling mortars, like you imagine gunslingers in the Wild West. You stand at one end of the street and you go for your guns and the first one who hits the other guy wins.’ (Captain Nick French, p.98)
  • The dilemma of the citizens of Sangin was close to the plight of Wild West settlers threatened by marauding outlaws, as seen in many an old cowboy movie. Like the peace-loving townsfolk of the Wild West Sangin residents hated the intimidation and extortion imposed on them by the bad guys. (p.115)
  • ‘It was like the gunfight at the OK Corral. There were rounds whizzing by us. (Corporal Stuart Giles, p.209)
  • ‘The bass throb of the .50-cals put heart into the men in the ditches.’ C Company’s sergeant Major told Mackenzie afterwards that ‘when they heard us firing, they felt their whole morale lift – it was like something out of Star Wars.’ (C Company’s sergeant major, p.104)
  • Before the convoy arrived the American quick reaction force that had arrived from the forward to rescue their comrades conducted a ‘clearance by fire’ – drenching the area with heavy machine guns and grenades from rapid-fire Mark 19 launchers. ‘It was like a scene from Apocalypse Now,’ said [Major Nick] Wight-Boycott. ‘The green zone just erupted in flames.’ (p.155)

Thus the simplistic tropes of Hollywood movies influenced Allied thinking from the highest strategic level (President Bush) down to the lowest tactical level (Paras on the ground). Not an influence for detached rational thought but for gung-ho mindless aggression, not an influence for the better understanding of the highly complex societies we were invading, but encouraging the tendency to reduce entire societies down to the simplistic binary of good guys and bad guys. With disastrous results.


Credit

3 Para by Patrick Bishop was first published by Harper Press in 2007. References are to the 2008 Harper Perennial paperback edition.

New world disorder reviews

Imperial Life in the Emerald City: Inside Baghdad’s Green Zone by Rajiv Chandrasekaran (2006)

‘Yee-haw is not a foreign policy.’
(Hand-written sign in the bar of the British compound of the Green Zone, Baghdad)

Why America invaded Iraq

In March 2003 the US Army, accompanied by forces from the so-called ‘coalition of the willing’, invaded Iraq with the aim of overthrowing Saddam Hussein. The architects of the invasion, US Secretary of State for Defence Donald Rumsfeld and Deputy Secretary of Defence Paul Wolfowitz, persuaded all concerned that the Saddam needed to be overthrow because a) he was running programs to produce and launch weapons of mass destruction which presented a clear and present danger to America and other Western nations, and b) he supported Osama bin Laden and al Qaeda, who had been responsible for the 9/11 attacks on New York and the Pentagon.

The neo-con sponsors of the Iraq War

Rumsfeld, Wolfowitz, their chief supporter in the White House, Vice President Dick Cheney, and their gofer at Defence, Douglas Feith, assured the President, the press and the sceptical military that the Army would be greeted as liberators, much like the Allies who liberated Italy and France from Nazi rule. They argued that the US need only deploy the minimum number of troops possible because the Iraqi army and police would quickly take over law and order duties. They didn’t work out a detailed post-invasion plan on how to reconstruct the country after a decade of sanctions and Saddam’s mismanagement had run it into the ground because they thought Iraqi civil servants would remain in place, the various ministries would continue to function smoothly, and that an interim Iraqi government would quickly be put in place. Whatever it cost would be covered by revenue from Iraq’s abundant oil reserves.

Cheney, Rumsfeld, Wolfowitz and Feith were right-wing Republicans, also known as neo-conservatives or neo-cons (p.128). They had a long-standing, hawkish, interventionist view of foreign policy, believing the US should use its military superiority to every other country in order to reshape the world to suit American political and economic interests, and took advantage of the confused and hysterical atmosphere after 9/11 to:

  • remove Saddam and solve the Iraq Problem once and for all
  • rebuild Iraq as a model democracy which would be an example to the region
  • rebuild not only the political system and infrastructure on a Western democratic model, but remake the economy as a model free market economy, privatising all the nationalised industries, setting up a properly run stock market, and opening the country to foreign investment
  • ensure the new Iraqi government would be a friend and ally of Israel, a country to which all neo-con Republicans are fiercely attached

Backing Ahmad Chalabi

The neo-cons (especially Douglas Feith’s Office of Special Plans, p.216) put their faith in the smooth-talking Iraqi exile politician Ahmed Chalabi, head of the Iraqi National Congress who bolstered their thinking at every turn, assuring them Saddam was an immediate threat with his weapons of mass destruction, assuring them the US army would be greeted with flowers and celebrations, assuring them he could form a national government which would be friendly to America and Israel, assuring them the Iraqi economy, for decades a command economy consisting of state-supported industries, could easily be converted to a flourishing free market economy, and so on and so on. All lies and fantasy (p.30).

Anybody who expressed a negative opinion of this wonder-worker was liable to lose their job, such as Thomas Warrick, one of the few staff at ORHA who knew what they were doing but expressed a strong aversion to Chalabi who he regarded as a ‘smarmy opportunist’ (p.40). So Rumsfeld got him fired.

Military operations

The invasion phase of the war began on 19 March 2003 (air) and 20 March 2003 (ground) and lasted just over one month, including 26 days of major combat operations. After 22 days Coalition forces captured the capital city Baghdad on 9 April 2003 after a 6-day battle. On 1 May US President George W. Bush declared the ‘end of major combat operations’.

The Office for Reconstruction and Humanitarian Assistance

The Americans had made some preparations for managing the country after it had been conquered but left it very late and never developed one authoritative, commonly agreed plan; different plans produced by different parts of the bureaucracy floated around, none of them complete in the necessary detail.

It was as late as 20 January i.e. just 2 months before the start of the invasion, that Rumsfeld got round to creating a body to act as a caretaker administration in Iraq until the creation of a democratically elected civilian government. This was the Office for Reconstruction and Humanitarian Assistance (ORHA). They appointed retired Army Lieutenant General Jay Garner as Director, based on Garner’s experience managing the relief effort for Iraqi Kurds in the aftermath of the 1991 Gulf War (p.31).

Garner quickly realised that the lack of a plan for the reconstruction of post-war Iraq was just one among a whole host of problems he faced These included a lack of qualified senior managers to take over every Iraqi ministry and a severe shortage of experienced civil servants to assist them. Senior staff were dumped on him purely because of their ideological commitment to the Republican party rather than any expertise or qualifications.

  • Tim Carney was a retired ambassador. He was nominated to ORHA by Wolfowitz and assigned to run the Iraqi Ministry of Industry and Minerals. Carney had no knowledge whatsoever of industry or minerals. He was given no information and no briefing, no idea how many workers the industry employed, no idea how many factories or state-run companies there were, so he looked it up on the internet and busked it from there (p.38).
  • A bureaucrat from the US Treasury was put in charge of the Iraqi Ministry of Education, despite having no knowledge whatsoever of education.
  • A former ambassador with no experience of trade was put in charge of the Ministry of Trade.
  • Stephen Browning from the Corps of Engineers was asked to head up four Iraqi ministries, of Transport and Communication, Housing and Construction, Irrigation, and Electricity (p.34).

The Great Looting

Then came the looting. While they awaited the end of the conflict in their Kuwaiti hotel rooms Garner and his staff watched on TV the astonishing level of looting which the under-manned US army allowed to happen in the immediate aftermath of the Battle for Baghdad (p.43). Because Rumsfeld had obstinately insisted on keeping the US force to a minimum, the occupying army simply lacked the manpower to protect key buildings and facilities. Day after day American soldiers stood by and let looting on an industrial scale devastate every administrative office in the capital and every factory, warehouse and industry, down to power stations and electricity substations. Everything that could be dismantled, taken away for personal use or for sale on the black market, was.

Tim Carney of ORHA was quickly to conclude that the looting did far more damage to Iraq’s infrastructure than the Allied bombing campaign (p.49). For example, all but one of the nation’s fire stations had been completely looted of all their equipment; the service would need to be rebuilt from scratch (p.100). All bank records of all businesses and municipalities disappeared (p.134). The countries’ universities were stripped of all moveable assets, computers, lab equipment, desks, chairs, even wiring (p.186). Hospitals were completely gutted of all valuables, equipment and medicines (p.235).

With the result that when they finally arrived in Baghdad, Garner and his team had nowhere to stay, no agreed plan, little or no budget, and inherited government buildings which had been ransacked and, in many cases, burned to the ground, with the loss of all the key information about the Iraqi economy, assets and businesses.

Little surprise, then, that ORHA began its work in an atmosphere of confusion and demoralisation which only got worse as the scale of the disaster and the challenge sank in. Its own staff quickly gave it the joke name ‘the Office of Really Hopeless Americans’ (p.32). Garner’s pessimistic reports back to Rumsfeld in Washington, and his insistence that power be handed over to the Iraqis themselves as soon as possible, quickly turned the neo-cons opinion against him.

ORHA replaced by the CPA

With the result that, to the surprise of Garner and his staff, he was relieved of the job after just one month (p.60). In fact it was announced that ORHA itself was being shut down and replaced by a new entity, the Coalition Provisional Authority (CPA). This was to be assigned ‘executive, legislative, and judicial authority over the Iraqi government’ and headed up by staunch Republican, Lewis Paul Bremer III.

When he’d arrived in Baghdad Garner found no accommodation had been arranged for him or his staff. He’d had to scrounge help from spare military officials who had helped him find one of Saddam’s vacant palaces which had escaped bombing but had no water or electricity and so where his staff camped out while Halliburton, the government’s logistics supplier, put them on the long waiting list for camp beds, portable stoves and suchlike (p.55).

Setting up the Green Zone

Garner and ORHA were just one of several US administrative teams, the Army, the CIA and numerous private contractors who quickly realised that the palace area of Baghdad offered many advantages. Even in the first few weeks the general streets of Baghdad were lawless because the Iraqi civil administration had broken down, all the army and police stayed home and there weren’t enough American troops to enforce law and order. Baghdad’s big swish hotels (where the world’s press had stayed during the Gulf War) couldn’t be made secure enough by the insufficient numbers of soldiers and freelance security contractors (p.46).

Whereas, over a decade earlier, Saddam had begun work building palaces and reception buildings on a grand scale in an enclave of the city which fronted on the Tigris River. Here buildings were constructed on an epic scale, even the houses of the staff were luxurious, the roads were wider and shaded by trees. More to the point, Saddam had enclosed the whole thing in a solid, rocket-proof brick wall. The Americans quickly grasped this was a ready-made secure location for all their administrative staff and added 17-foot-high blast barriers topped with coils of razor wire. The precinct had just three entrances which were protected by concrete blast barriers, troops and tanks.

The Americans quickly named it the Green Zone, by contrast with the rest of Baghdad, and then of Iraq as a whole, which quickly degenerated into chaos and violence. Inside these walls, insulated from the privations of the entire Iraqi population which was going without fresh water, electricity and basic supplies, where the complete breakdown in law and order had resulted in burglary, theft, muggings, carjackings, shootings, murder and rapes, the thousand or so fresh-faced staff of the Coalition Provisional Authority, published reports festooned with statistics and graphs showing how the country was going from strength to strength, cooked up impressive project plans for restructuring the economy or turning Iraq into a Western-style democracy, in complete ignorance of the reality of the world outside their comfort zone.

Imperial Life in the Emerald City

And it is this – the heroic, ironic, often hilarious and sometimes tragic disconnect between the pipe-dream rhetoric of the CPA and the steady descent into chaos of the country they claimed to be running – which is the subject of Rajiv Chandrasekaran’s award-winning book, Imperial Life in the Emerald City.

It is ‘imperial’ life because Bremer was, in effect, the viceroy of the imperial power, America, which ran Iraqi affairs from Washington DC. And Chandrasekaran calls it ‘the Emerald City’ because of the happy colour coincidence between ‘Green Zone’ and the Emerald City in the Wizard of Oz books, a handy overlap which also conveys the sense of never-never quality of most of the CPA’s fantasies of nation building.

Chandrasekaran and Thomas E. Ricks

In Fiasco, his extraordinary account of the Iraq War, Thomas E. Ricks gives a high-level and highly analytical account which focuses on all aspects of the military involvement of the war, giving extraordinary insight into just how such a war is conceived and planned, with quotes and comments from an awesome cast of senior military figures, active and retired. Ricks sheds light on the huge amount of bureaucratic in-fighting which accompanies such a huge undertaking, not least between the conservative and sceptical diplomats at the State Department, run by former General Colin Powell (p.34), and the far more gung-ho, hawkish neo-conservatives at the Department of Defence (also referred to as the Pentagon) led by Rumsfeld and Wolfowitz, who despised the former:

Veteran Middle East hands were regarded as insufficiently committed to the goal of democratising the region. (p.95)

Although Chandrasekaran also covers some of the same territory as Ricks (he shows us Rumsfeld and Wolfowitz making the same mistakes as Ricks does, and Powell and other experts expressing the same reservations), by and large he is more firmly in the Green Zone, meeting numerous staffers, describing their everyday life of hamburgers and American movies, working out at the gym, and producing fantasy plans and utopian policies (their ‘crazy ivory tower schemes’, p.254) to please their ideological masters back in Washington which had no possibility of ever being carried out in Iraq. If Ricks is all about the Army, Chandrasekaran is all about the CPA and its people.

Ordinary people and amateurs

For the first part of the book Chandrasekaran is interested in people and their stories, generally the lower echelon staff, who populated the Green Zone. These guys were flown in to staff the CPA, often at very short notice, and generally with little or no expertise in the jobs they were expected to do.

Half had never been abroad before and for many it was their first full-time job (p.15). What comes over loud and clear is that all that mattered was ideological purity and commitment to the Bush Republican Party, that they be ‘the right kind of Republican’ (p.59). Ideology trumped both experience and expertise, as the whole world was able to tell, from the results.

Take John Agresto. He was 58 when Chandrasekaran met him. John had been assigned the daunting task of rehabilitating Iraq’s university system, comprising some 375,000 students located at 22 campuses which had all been trashed in the post-conquest looting. John had no experience of post-conflict reconstruction. He had no experience of the Middle East. His job back in the States was running a small college in Santa Fe with under 500 students. So what the devil was he doing in charge of rebuilding Iraq’s entire higher education system? Well, on the board of that little college back in Santa Fe just happened to be Secretary of Defence Donald Rumsfeld’s wife and, when John had a stint working on the National Endowment for the Humanities, he had got to know Vice President Dick Cheney’s wife, too, and they both told their husbands about him.

Getting a job at the CPA really was a case of not what you knew, or even who you knew but who knew you. However, once you were in post, none of your fancy contacts from back home in the States helped with getting the actual job done. After 8 months of assiduous research, John had concluded that he needed more than $1 billion to rebuild Iraq’s higher education facilities. When Chandrasekaran met him, he’d received just $8 million from the CPA. Neoconservative Republican nation-building…on the cheap (p.3).

At least Agresto had some experience of what he was charged with. Michael Cole was just 22 and barely out of college when he found himself employed by the ubiquitous contracting corporation, Halliburton, as ‘customer service liaison’ for the catering and canteen laid on for the CPA’s 1,000 or so staff. Did he have any experience of catering, of working with the military or in a warzone? Of course not. He had been working as a junior aide to a Republican congressman from Virginia when the Halliburton vice president overheard him talking to friends in a bar about handling irate constituents. She (the vice president) introduced herself, gave him her card, three weeks later Halliburton rang him up and offered him a job in Baghdad. That simple, that random.

Chandrasekaran’s book is about the extraordinary alternative reality which developed inside the enchanted city, populated as it was by young, fresh-faced American college kids who knew nothing about the real world, and less than nothing about Iraqi culture and society, but who carried on churning out PowerPoints and spreadsheets showing US policies transforming the country for the better, improving Iraq according to all kinds of gee-whizz metrics while, in the real world outside their bubble, the country was collapsing into hyper-violent sectarianism.

Another example is Mark Schroeder. This keen young fellow was employed to produce PowerPoint presentations and spreadsheets with graphs showing how everything was getting better and better in liberated Iraq. He had never been outside the Green Zone and had no real idea what conditions were like. He didn’t even interview or talk to the thousand or more Iraqis who had the menial service jobs inside the Zone. He had no interaction with any of the population of the country he was reporting on whatsoever. Instead Mark got all his information from Fox News which, of course, promoted George Bush’s agenda, so he thought everything in Iraq was just dandy (p.25).

When, after some delay, Bremer and his deputies realised the extraordinary power wielded by Iraq’s most influential Shiite leader, Grand Ayatollah Ali al-Sistani, they sent an emissary to him and who did they choose for this crucial mission? An Iraqi-American who knew nothing about politics or diplomacy but was a wealthy urologist from Florida who had developed a penile implant for impotent men (p.88).

The spirit is summed up by the comment of one unnamed staffer: ‘I’m not here for the Iraqis, I’m here for George Bush.’ (p.90) Not many of these staffers had voted Democrat and those who had quickly found out it was a secret best kept to themselves in this overwhelmingly partisan and zealously Republican environment.

Chandrasekaran has a section on how the vetting was carried out by pro-Bush partisans. According to Frederick Smith who served as deputy director of the CPA’s Washington office:

‘The criterion for sending people over there was that they had to have the right political credentials.’ (p.101)

People with much-needed expertise were rejected if they lacked commitment to Bush-type neo-conservatism. Rather than questions about the Middle East, Arabic or Iraq, applicants were questioned about their attitude to the Republican shibboleths of abortion and gun control. So they got an administration of people who voted the right way but had no qualifications for the job.

Bremer’s office advertised for 10 young gofers. The 10 who were hired were all vouched-for solid Republicans. Six of them were put in charge of Iraq’s $13 billion budget although none of them had financial management experience.

Bremer had hugely ambitious plans to completely remodel Iraq’s centrally planned command economy into a free market, neo-liberal, capitalist economy. When the first nominee to this role, Thomas Foley, proved too zealous for the post, Bremer replaced him with Michael Fleischer. Fleischer had no experience whatsoever of creating free enterprise in a formerly socialist economy but…his brother was White House press secretary Ari Fleischman. It was all about contacts and connections, not expertise (p.251). That’s why billions and billions and billions of dollars were completely wasted.

L. Paul Bremer

Chandrasekaran describes the personality and working practices of the CPA’s chief executive, L. Paul Bremer, appointed on 11 May 2003, in chapter titled ‘Control Freak’. (This is not as rude as it sounds. It is how Bremer was described by Henry Kissinger, who he at one point worked for as a special assistant, as described on pages 70, 75 and 215).

Chandrasekaran travels with Bremer to ministries and schools and interviews him en route. Bremer talks a good game. He works long hours, incredibly hard. He insists on seeing every memo, signing off every document. And yet, as the Wikipedia article on the CPA pithily puts it:

At the CPA, Bremer moved quickly to install opaque and corruption-prone methods for the withdrawal and transportation of extremely large amounts of cash often transported from the US to Iraq by C-17 transport plane…The CPA was strongly criticised for its mismanagement of funds allocated to the reconstruction of Iraq, with over $8 billion of these unaccounted for, including over $1.6 billion in cash that emerged in a basement in Lebanon.

American valules. Bremer is, of course, remembered for his first two major acts as ‘viceroy’ of occupied Iraq, which plunged the country into chaos and condemned America to an 8-year occupation, the loss of some 5,000 US troops, an equal number of civilian contractors and a truly awesome amount of money, at least $757 million. Wikipedia again:

The first act of the CPA under Bremer, Coalition Provisional Authority Order 1, was to order the de-Ba’athification of Iraqi society. On 23 May, CPA Order Number 2 formally disbanded the Iraqi army as well as other public servants including nurses and doctors and eventually led to the direct unemployment of more than 500,000 Iraqi citizens.

Chandrasekaran discusses the background to the debaathification order on pages 76 to 81, and to scrapping the Iraqi army on pages 81 to 86. He goes out of his way to play devil’s advocate, to explain Bremer’s thinking, and point out that he wasn’t alone.

Nonetheless, lots of experts, his colleagues in the CPA, State Department officials and senior army generals, Bremer’s predecessor, Jay Garner, Steve Browning the man running five ministries – all warned that these orders would be catastrophic (p.78). They would create at a stroke over half a million angry, humiliated men and women, rendered jobless and aimless in a society awash with weapons. (Thanks to Donald Rumsfeld’s obstinate refusal to send enough US troops to adequately police the hundreds of military barracks and arms depots these were left unguarded and promptly looted, keeping insurgents and militia groups happily armed and provisioned for the best part of the next decade).

But Bremer went ahead despite all the advice to the contrary and all the critics and warners were proved correct.

Challenges of rebuilding a country

Initially I thought the whole book would be a kind of freeflowing satire of the hapless American’s incompetence as demonstrated by the youth and inexperience of so many staffers. But around page 100 of this 330-page book the narrative becomes a lot more structured. Henceforward each chapter deals in some detail with one particular challenge the CPA faced, namely:

Privatising the economy

Describes the woeful state of the Iraqi economy and CPA officials various plans to convert its socialist command economy into an America-style free enterprise, capitalist economy. This implied a raft of changes which included:

  • privatising the many industries managed entirely by the state
  • changing Iraqi laws to allow foreign companies to invest in Iraqi businesses
  • letting the Iraqi dinar float on international currency markets
  • setting up a stock market according to best international standards of transparency
  • abolishing the complex system by which state industries were subsidised and kept uncompetitive
  • reducing personal taxes to encourage initiative and entrepreneurship

Managing all this was handed over to Bremer’s economics czar, Peter McPherson. Unfortunately, the only difference everyday Iraqis noticed was that a) a lot of them lost their jobs in uncompetitive industries which were closed down; the Iraqi dinar plummeted on international markets so everything became more expensive. An unintended consequence of deleting the complex system of cross-subsidies between state-run industries was that the most efficient of them saw all their capital held in state banks wiped out.

The single most risky change was that, under Saddam, all Iraqi families received free food baskets. The CPA Republicans were strongly against this, wanting at the very least to replace the system with a monthly sum in cash or vouchers, and so they disappeared into evermore complicated and impractical ideas to replace it.

This kind of thing turned out to be very interesting. It was fascinating to learn how 40 or so years of Ba’ath Party rule had created a particular kind of command economy, and fascinating to get into the details of what the CPA wanted to change, and why, and why it was so often impractical.

And the issue of political contacts trumping expertise occurs here as everywhere else. Brought into oversee the privatisation program was Thomas Foley who had no experience of working in a command economy or post-conflict situation, but he was a major Republican Party donor and had been Bush’s classmate at Harvard Business School (p.140)

Crooked contractors

There’s a chapter devoted to a couple of chancers who set up a service supplier company which, initially, bid to provide security at Baghdad Airport, despite having hardly any security guards on their books and little or no experience of such a large project. But Chandrasekaran shows how, in the Wild West environment of post-war Iraq, lack of experience and expertise didn’t stop the companies risk-taking owners from accumulating over $100 million in government contracts before they were revealed as overcharging and scamming. Chandrasekaran doesn’t say as much but the implication is that many of the suppliers of services to a panic-stricken CPA also milked them for millions.

Electricity

A fascinating explanation of why the world’s number one superpower couldn’t get the power working again in a country sitting on one of the biggest reserves of oil and natural gas in the world, thus creating ‘overnight nostalgia for Saddam among people who had cheered his fall (p.170).

Lieutenant General John Comparetto turns the challenge over to Steve Browning, clever and resourceful, who begs electrical engineers from the army, sends them to assess the state of Iraq’s power stations, and uses the information to pull together a national plan (p.173).

I found the technical explanations of why the power grid was in such poor shape fascinating. Basically, ever since he decided to attack Iran in September 1980, Saddam had wasted his nation’s oil income on weapons and war and let its once admirable infrastructure rot. The infrastructure had been further degraded when during the brief Gulf War of 1991 when a few choice American missiles obliterated key parts of the power generating and distribution system. This was followed by 12 long years of sanctions, when the country’s engineers were prevented from getting the spare parts they needed to repair anything. And then, of course, came the brief 2003 war which had just ended:

American bombing during the war damaged about 75% of the country’s power-generating capacity. (p.167)

So that when Browning did his assessment he discovered most of the biggest power stations were held together by string and sellotape and were on their last legs. In other words, to crank electricity generation back up to first world levels would costs billions and billions of dollars of investment (the World Bank eventually calculated it would require $55 billion over 4 years to rebuild Iraq’s infrastructure, p.175).

Trouble is, almost all the other policies of the CPA depended on the whole notion of having a good, reliable power supply. Take privatising Iraq’s industries: who wants to buy a factory which has no electric power. In fact most elements of a modern society, starting with a police service providing law and order, rely on power for computers and even lights in buildings.

Chandrasekaran explains a further bad decision which exacerbated things. Knowing he had far less power than his country needed Saddam took the cynical decision to channel as much as possible of it to Baghdad, home of most of the citizens and also his biggest possible rivals, the army generals. But when he learned about this Bremer, like a good American democrat, decided this was wildly unfair and that the limited power should be distributed fairly around the country. This had the effect of alienating everyone – the entire citizenry of Baghdad who now struggled to have power for even half of the day, thus rendering all kinds of businesses nearly impossible to run, specially anything connected with processing and storing food; but it didn’t please people in provincial towns and cities that much because they, also, only had intermittent power.

Reading Chandrasekaran’s descriptions of the genuinely complicated technical, engineering, managerial, budgetary and political problems thrown up by every single aspect of rebuilding Iraq, for the first time made me start to sympathise with Bremer. It was an impossible job.

Constitutional wrangles

Compared with rebuilding the entire national grid and trying to reboot the economy, the challenge of writing a new constitution should have been easy. it’s not as if the world is short of national constitutions, even if some account had to be taken of Iraq’s heritage, its multi-ethnic make-up and its Islamic faith: after all, there are plenty of Arab states and they all have constitutions.

But in a complicated chapter Chandrasekaran describes how the precise process of how this constitution was going to be written hit insuperable obstacles. To be honest I got lost in the maze of discussions but I think Bremer wanted to convene a cohort of leaders of different communities who would draft a constitution, whereupon some kind of national election would be held about just the constitution alone, which would then be installed or adopted and only then would actual elections be held for the first government.

But there were problems every step of the way, starting with the highly contentious choice of who would be the members of the convention who would produce a draft constitution, given the requirement to take account of the country’s three main groups, the Sunni and Shia Arabs and the Kurds. Another cause of disagreement the issue of exiles and remainers i.e. the animosity between leaders who’d lived in exile for decades and often lost touch with life under Saddam but had the ear of people in Washington such as Cheney and Rumsfeld; and those leaders who’d remained in the country and, by necessity, made compromises with Saddam and the Ba’ath Party.

Then there was the simple question of whether any of these so-called ‘leaders’ had any actual followings in the country at large or were just chancers who’d floated to the surface and succeeded in sucking up to the Americans. `The only way to find out was to hold elections. But elections couldn’t be held until you had a constitution. But what kind of mandate did these politicians hand-picked by the Americans have if none of them had been elected?

And this is where Bremer’s plans ran into Iraq’s most influential Shiite leader, Grand Ayatollah Ali al-Sistani who intervened to publish a fatwah or holy ruling which is that no constitution should be accepted unless it was drawn up by elected representatives, not Bremer’s hand-picked crew. (It is very characteristic that key CPA staff involved in the constitution building were seeking to establish an entirely Western separation of church and state and therefore thought al-Sistani not only could be ignored but should be ignored, p.183).

All these forces interacted to produce a situation of mind-boggling complexity which Chandrasekaran explains at great length and made me feel even more sorry for Bremer, working 12 hour days and getting nowhere.

Other reforms

Only somewhere in this sequence of issue-based chapters did I begin to realise that the book amounts to a history of the CPA and its long list of utopian fantasy reforms. There are entire chapters or long passages devoted to other major issues, including:

  • rebuilding the entire medical system which had been damaged in the war and then trashed beyond repair in the national looting, a huge project with multiple aspects which was handled by a succession of appointees (Frederick M. Burkle Jr, Steve Browning, James K. Haveman Jr) who developed complicated multi-faceted plans, fought valiantly to get adequate funding, up against the shrinking deadlines imposed by the evershifting constitutional arguments and all of whom, in the end, failed (pages 232 to 244)
  • setting up a media service to compete with the anti-American messages of all the Arab TV and radio stations Iraq’s citizens tuned into
  • rewriting Iraq’s entire highway code: this task was handed to John Smathers who was a personal injury lawyer from Maryland; lacking any other sources he based his new Iraqi highway code on the  highway code of his home state, Maryland, which he downloaded from the internet and tweaked to local conditions; in the event his code was merged with the eccentric and often irrational one proposed by Iraqi officials and both, in any case, carried on being ignored by both police and drivers; Smathers was seriously injured in an insurgent ambush and flown back to the States before his ineffective, mongrel code was finally signed into Iraqi law by Bremer (pages 263 to 268)
  • persuading Iraq’s scientists, especially involved in weapons programmes, to come out of hiding and join a new science centre where they could make peaceful and positive contributions to the country, assorted out by unconventional State Department nominee Alex Dehgan

And, of course, all this was being attempted in a country which was becoming more violent and lawless by the day. For most of the period Chandrasekaran covers the Green Zone was an oasis of well-lit, well-fed calm in a city racked with violence. But then he gives a harrowing description of a rocket attack on the al-Raschid Hotel on the edge of the Zone and the severe injuries sustained by Colonel Elias Nimmer whose hotel room was directly hit by a rocket, 26 October 2003. The atmosphere deteriorated. Many staffers decided they had to leave.

The Sadr Revolt

By page 200 I’d realised that the book amounts to a history of the Coalition Provisional Authority, which ended with the muted ceremony whereby Bremer formally handed power over to the Interim Iraqi Government on 28 June 2004 ad flew home.

I’d begun to formulate a mild criticism that Chandrasekaran’s narrative focuses entirely on the history of the civilian CPA with almost no mention let alone analysis of the deteriorating military and security situation outside the walls of the Emerald City (much more the subject of Ricks’s Fiasco) – but then, at this point, the narrative suddenly switched into full battle mode.

The penultimate chapter starts innocuously by describing another day in the life of Sergeant Jerry Swope as he drives his team of Humvees into the tightly packed slum quarter of Baghdad known as Sadr City on their regular, boring but very smelly mission to drain the open sewers which overflow into the streets as part of the general decay of all Iraq’s infrastructure. The whole area was the stomping ground of radical young Shiite cleric, Muqtada al-Sadr, who had organised his followers into what was loosely described as ‘the Mahdi Army’. Jerry saw disaffected young men hanging round on the streets but they’d never caused trouble before.

What Jerry didn’t know was that five days earlier, on 28 March, Bremer had decided to take Sadr on. First he closed Sadr’s al-Howza newspaper for an article which likened Bremer to Saddam Hussein. Then the day before, Bremer had Sadr’s main man in Najaf, Mustafa Yaqoubi, arrested for an alleged murder.

Before they knew it Jerry’s patrol came under attack, for pistol, AK47 and RPG fire. When they tried to accelerate out of danger they found the road blocked. When he reversed he discovered two of his four Humvees had been rendered immobile. So he gathered his men and ran down the nearest alleyway till they found a 3-story house, stormed into it, set up machine guns on the roof and became seriously besieged. He radioed headquarters who sent out relief vehicles and, when these ran into trouble, seven tanks. Jerry and his men were besieged till after dark and ammunition was running low when they were finally rescued. In this one encounter the army suffered eight soldiers dead and 50 wounded.

It was the start of the 10-week-long Shia Uprising which made not just parts of Baghdad into no-go warzones but spread to other towns and cities across the predominantly Shiite south. Later, Army generals were scathing of Bremer’s behaviour; he had taken on the leader of up to 10,000 heavily armed militiamen with no military plan whatsoever. Bremer though al-Sadr would meekly back down like the editor of some local paper in America. Instead he triggered a major insurrection across the country.

The First Battle of Fallujah 4 April to 1 May 2004

What made it nearly catastrophic was it occurred as the same time as the Battle of Fallujah. This city is 70 kilometres west of Baghdad and a Sunni stronghold. Ever since the occupation there had been a series of very violent incidents, with American troops shooting and killing unarmed protesters, and a steady flow of fatal attacks on US soldiers.

On 31 March 2004 Iraqi insurgents in Fallujah ambushed a convoy containing four American private military contractors from Blackwater USA. All four were shot dead, their bodies mutilated, burned and strung up from a nearby suspension bridge. Footage of the bodies and local civilians shouting and cheering were given to Arab news stations and beamed round the world.

Inevitably this caused outrage etc in Washington but, in Chandrasekaran’s account, the key fact is that Defence Secretary Donald Rumsfeld assured President Bush that Fallujah could be taken and pacified by US Marines with few if any casualties, and the guilty parties brought to justice. He claimed the good inhabitants of the city would willingly hand over the murderers to the authorities (p.306).

This was just the latest in a long line of ignorant, arrogant, wishful thinking and profoundly wrong opinions delivered by Rumsfeld, a man who emerges from both Ricks’ and Chandrasekaran’s books as a dangerous moron.

Because when Rumsfeld persuaded Bush to send in the Marines, it turned out they met far stiffer resistance than anybody anticipated, with American troops dying on the first day and numbers steadily escalating, not to mention the many innocent civilians killed. Meeting resistance, the Americans increased their firepower, raining death from helicopter gunships. Footage of all this was also beamed round the Arab world and helped crystallise the image of the Americans as trigger-happy murderers of unarmed women and children.

Not easy to be an imperial power, is it?

But the massive assault, which threatened to drag on for days, was unpopular not only around the Arab world, but with America’s nominal allies. When British Prime Minister Tony Blair rang up from Britain saying it must stop, President Bush reluctantly stopped it in mid-flow. The Marines commanding officer was livid. He estimated they were two days away from fighting their way to the city centre and securing the whole city. Don’t start a military offensive if you’re not prepared to carry it through. But in a way that’s the moral of the entire invasion and occupancy; wishing a fantasy goal (convert Iraq to a lovely liberal democracy) without willing the means (huge numbers of troops, a comprehensive political, engineering and economic plan, and a huge amount of money).

Impact on the CPA

The impact on the CPA was simple: all reconstruction shut down. The fighting dragged into early May and the CPA was due to hand over power to the Iraqi Provisional Government in June. What was the point?

In the last few pages Chandrasekaran describes the last-ditch attempts of committed CPA staff to push through at least some reforms, notably the heroic attempts of John Agresto to screw funding out of the elephantine US bureaucracy for his cherished restoration of Iraq’s universities.

But he also quotes quite a few staffers reflecting on their achievements. It was a failure. Ignorant of conditions in wider Iraq, ignorant of Iraq’s history, social economic make-up, unable to a man to speak the local language, cocooned in their bubble, highly educated staffers fretted about rewriting the Iraqi highway code or the precise medicines to be placed on a national formulary or fantasising about giving every home in the country broadband access while beyond their walls, hundreds of thousands of angry young men, deprived of their jobs in the army or police or fired because they’d been Ba’ath Party members, plotted their revenge, which exploded that spring of 2004 in insurrection and insurgency right across the country.

It’s not about democracy, it’s about civic society

One guy puts his finger on it. It’s a piece of cake to ‘build’ a democracy, to write a spiffy new constitution, hold a census, draw constituencies on a map and arrange a day when everyone puts an X next to a candidate. That’s easy.

Whereas it’s almost impossible to build a deeply rooted civil society of the type which exists in the advanced West. Our liberal democracies are hundreds of years old, with their roots in even older values of Protestantism with its emphasis on individual human rights, the primacy of the individual conscience and so on. It’s taken at least 300 years, since the time of Locke and the post-English Civil War theorists, to combine a secular philosophy of individualism with the panoply of complicated fiscal and economic policies (the establishment of the Bank of England, the development of banking law, the invention of the limited company) which enabled the rise of industrial capitalism in the West – and these developments were not without all kinds of wars and civil wars, continental conflagrations and atrocities even in the so-called ‘civilised’ West.

To think that the products of this deep, rich and complicated history can be imposed on a country with a completely different history, culture and religion shows a moronic lack of self awareness. Chandrasekaran focuses on Agresto because it’s his summary that the book ends with:

The problem with democracy building is that we think democracy is easy – get rid of the bad guys, call for elections, encourage ‘power sharing’, and see to it that somebody writes a bill of rights. The truth is the exact opposite – government of the few or government by one person is what’s easy to build; even putting together good autocratic rule doesn’t seem to be that hard. It’s good, stable and free democracies that are the hardest thing. America’s been so successful at being a free and permanent democracy that we think democracy is the natural way to rule [but it isn’t]…We as a country don’t have a clue what has made our country work… (p.320)

My interpretation is that the key component to successful Western democracy is none of the apparatus of democracy itself, nor the details of a particular economic model (free market capitalism). What makes them work is a very deep-seated commitment among most of the population to civic spirit and civic responsibility. We abide by the rules, we abide by the law, no matter how grudgingly, because our parents did and they brought us up in these traditions, in this culture.

The evidence from Chandrasekaran’s book is the Iraqis had absolutely none of this. Every Iraqi in any position of power demanded a bribe to carry out even the slightest duty. The Iraqi police demanded bribes to let malefactors off. Iraqi civil servants demanded bribes before they would process your claim.

The objective rule of law does not exist. Iraqi culture relies entirely on family, clan and religion, elements of personal identity it gives vastly more importance than most socially atomised Westerners can grasp. Rather than be loyal to some remote state or its officials who are corrupt to a man, for generations people have put their family, their clan, their tribe, and their religious allegiance first.

Handing out a spiffy new constitution along with a whole set of ridiculous documents like a westernised highway code, while the actual population was suffering from power shortages, food shortages, water shortages and anarchy on the streets, was the height of fatuousness.

Summary

Thomas E. Ricks’s book, Fiasco, is the irreplaceable, definitive account of the comprehensive lack of planning by Washington politicians and the military for the post-conquest situation which led to catastrophe in Iraq.

Chandrasekaran’s book perfectly complements it by showing you what the lack of a plan meant on the ground, in practice, when the badly conceived, badly organised and badly staffed Coalition Provisional Authority tried to rebuild and remodel Iraq’s economy, infrastructure and political system, and why it was always doomed to abject failure.

Read together these two books amount to a crushing indictment of the American political class, in particular the ideologically driven fantasy world of the Republican Party, and above all the unbelievably stupid, ignorant, short-sighted and disastrous policies promoted by Dick Cheney, Donald Rumsfeld and Paul Wolfowitz. Paul Bremer I came to pity for the impossibility of the task he was handed, but he too was blinded to reality by his ideological Republicanism and made a series of awesomely bad decisions which helped plunge an entire country into murderous chaos.


Credit

Imperial Life in the Emerald City by Rajiv Chandrasekaran was published by Bloomsbury Publishing in 2006. Page references are to the 2008 Bloomsbury paperback edition.

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