Yrys
Army.ca Veteran
- Reaction score
- 15
- Points
- 430
Iraq legacy for Afghan campaign
Iraqis claim the Iraqi military were
the ones who stopped militias in Basra
Iraq legacy for Afghan campaign
As the debate continues about increasing troops in Afghanistan,
questions are being posed over whether an alternative strategy
should be pursued to sever local support of the Taliban. Hugh
Sykes in Baghdad reflects on the lessons that could be learned
from the experience of British forces in Iraq.
On the day United Kingdom troops hauled down the Union flag in
Basra earlier this year, a British brigadier burst out of his office
and shouted at one of my BBC colleagues: "That Hugh Sykes -
get him in line." He then stormed off without explaining what he
was upset about.
But I suspect he had heard a report of mine broadcast after I spent
four days in Basra city itself, wandering about, asking people what
the British had achieved there. Most of them said not much had been
achieved.
Everyone I spoke to complained that the infestation of competing
militias in Basra was only really tackled after the British had retreated
to their airbase out in the desert. They told me they believed that the
militias were only truly neutralised by an Iraqi military operation called
the "Charge of the Knights".
One man told me the British presence at bases in the city had actually
made the militia problem worse, by acting as a magnet to the men with
guns, with numerous civilians caught in the crossfire. When I was there
earlier this year, the city certainly felt calm.
Fetid canal
The Corniche along the Shatt al-Arab waterway came to life in the evenings,
with families wandering along in the dusk under coloured lamps, cafes and
kebab stalls doing good business. Children were diving off a pontoon bridge
and larking about in the water. We ate, twice, at a floating restaurant, a
converted pleasure boat, with tables on deck.
But in many other places, the city looked worse than it did when the British
first arrived - especially in the canals. In 2003 the canals were crumbling
from years of neglect during Saddam Hussein's regime. But six years on, they
were even worse, with putrid stagnant water filled with rubbish, used nappies,
engine oil, and broken cars and bikes.
One day, I went into a bookshop to buy a copy of a novel about Basra that I had
been recommended. I was warmly welcomed and given tea with a thick layer of
sugar at the bottom of the glass.
Market quest
Desperately seeking evidence of some positive legacy of nearly six years of British
occupation, I asked the bookseller for directions to the fish market that had been
reconstructed by British forces. It was one of the projects UK Ministry of Defence
press officers had often told me about with pride.
"Fish market?" he pondered, "what fish market?". I asked several customers in the
bookshop the same question. No-one knew what I was talking about. Well the fish
market does exist, but it is a tiny detail in a broken city. And people do not seem to
know about it.
That is a simple failure to market success. It is also a pointer to another feature that
American and British interventions in Iraq and in Afghanistan have in common. There
is an assumption that military power, and ever greater numbers of troops, can solve
all the problems. But my sense after spending many months in Iraq, and several weeks
in Afghanistan, is that the assumption is deeply flawed. Troops deal with symptoms,
not causes.
The previous US commander in Iraq, General David Petraeus, acknowledged that even
his famous troop surge only worked in parallel with the awakening movement of Sunni
tribes who decided to turn against their former al-Qaeda allies and work alongside the
Americans.
'Restoring hope?'
In Afghanistan, Nato troops have, of course, fixed roads and schools and so on, but not
enough, not enough to win those crucial hearts and minds. I have spent a lot of time with
British and American forces here in Iraq.
Many senior officers have told me privately, and passionately, that military operations
against insurgents are doomed unless they are matched by major civil projects to improve
people's lives and give them work and hope.
In 2005, walking round Zafaraniya, a poor suburb of Baghdad, an American battalion
commander Colonel Brian Doser (who is also a civil engineer) showed me the new sewage
and clean water systems that he and his team had installed. "We should have done this much
sooner," he volunteered. And then he made a really persuasive point.
"You can't wait for the security problem to be solved before you work on reconstruction," he said.
"If you wait to solve the security problem before you improve the infrastructure, you may never
solve the security problem."
Cash incentive
I spoke to some of the young men that he had employed as labourers. One told me that he had
been in the main local Mehdi Army militia before getting this job. "I needed the money," he said.
In Kabul, a young man started sobbing as he told me about his life. "Why is my country so
miserable?" he asked. "What have you done for us over the past eight years? If the Taliban
come to see me now, I'll join them."
Back in Basra, six years ago, walking around the city centre, British Captain Dan Guest told me
that some of the young unemployed men there had to survive on a few dollars a month. Then
he told me that going rate for an insurgent to mortar a British base was $25 (£15.6).
"It's a no-brainer," he added.
Iraqis claim the Iraqi military were
the ones who stopped militias in Basra
Iraq legacy for Afghan campaign
As the debate continues about increasing troops in Afghanistan,
questions are being posed over whether an alternative strategy
should be pursued to sever local support of the Taliban. Hugh
Sykes in Baghdad reflects on the lessons that could be learned
from the experience of British forces in Iraq.
On the day United Kingdom troops hauled down the Union flag in
Basra earlier this year, a British brigadier burst out of his office
and shouted at one of my BBC colleagues: "That Hugh Sykes -
get him in line." He then stormed off without explaining what he
was upset about.
But I suspect he had heard a report of mine broadcast after I spent
four days in Basra city itself, wandering about, asking people what
the British had achieved there. Most of them said not much had been
achieved.
Everyone I spoke to complained that the infestation of competing
militias in Basra was only really tackled after the British had retreated
to their airbase out in the desert. They told me they believed that the
militias were only truly neutralised by an Iraqi military operation called
the "Charge of the Knights".
One man told me the British presence at bases in the city had actually
made the militia problem worse, by acting as a magnet to the men with
guns, with numerous civilians caught in the crossfire. When I was there
earlier this year, the city certainly felt calm.
Fetid canal
The Corniche along the Shatt al-Arab waterway came to life in the evenings,
with families wandering along in the dusk under coloured lamps, cafes and
kebab stalls doing good business. Children were diving off a pontoon bridge
and larking about in the water. We ate, twice, at a floating restaurant, a
converted pleasure boat, with tables on deck.
But in many other places, the city looked worse than it did when the British
first arrived - especially in the canals. In 2003 the canals were crumbling
from years of neglect during Saddam Hussein's regime. But six years on, they
were even worse, with putrid stagnant water filled with rubbish, used nappies,
engine oil, and broken cars and bikes.
One day, I went into a bookshop to buy a copy of a novel about Basra that I had
been recommended. I was warmly welcomed and given tea with a thick layer of
sugar at the bottom of the glass.
Market quest
Desperately seeking evidence of some positive legacy of nearly six years of British
occupation, I asked the bookseller for directions to the fish market that had been
reconstructed by British forces. It was one of the projects UK Ministry of Defence
press officers had often told me about with pride.
"Fish market?" he pondered, "what fish market?". I asked several customers in the
bookshop the same question. No-one knew what I was talking about. Well the fish
market does exist, but it is a tiny detail in a broken city. And people do not seem to
know about it.
That is a simple failure to market success. It is also a pointer to another feature that
American and British interventions in Iraq and in Afghanistan have in common. There
is an assumption that military power, and ever greater numbers of troops, can solve
all the problems. But my sense after spending many months in Iraq, and several weeks
in Afghanistan, is that the assumption is deeply flawed. Troops deal with symptoms,
not causes.
The previous US commander in Iraq, General David Petraeus, acknowledged that even
his famous troop surge only worked in parallel with the awakening movement of Sunni
tribes who decided to turn against their former al-Qaeda allies and work alongside the
Americans.
'Restoring hope?'
In Afghanistan, Nato troops have, of course, fixed roads and schools and so on, but not
enough, not enough to win those crucial hearts and minds. I have spent a lot of time with
British and American forces here in Iraq.
Many senior officers have told me privately, and passionately, that military operations
against insurgents are doomed unless they are matched by major civil projects to improve
people's lives and give them work and hope.
In 2005, walking round Zafaraniya, a poor suburb of Baghdad, an American battalion
commander Colonel Brian Doser (who is also a civil engineer) showed me the new sewage
and clean water systems that he and his team had installed. "We should have done this much
sooner," he volunteered. And then he made a really persuasive point.
"You can't wait for the security problem to be solved before you work on reconstruction," he said.
"If you wait to solve the security problem before you improve the infrastructure, you may never
solve the security problem."
Cash incentive
I spoke to some of the young men that he had employed as labourers. One told me that he had
been in the main local Mehdi Army militia before getting this job. "I needed the money," he said.
In Kabul, a young man started sobbing as he told me about his life. "Why is my country so
miserable?" he asked. "What have you done for us over the past eight years? If the Taliban
come to see me now, I'll join them."
Back in Basra, six years ago, walking around the city centre, British Captain Dan Guest told me
that some of the young unemployed men there had to survive on a few dollars a month. Then
he told me that going rate for an insurgent to mortar a British base was $25 (£15.6).
"It's a no-brainer," he added.
)? I guess that is for the historians to debate.
