Category: Iraq

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Happy Birthday USMC

In heaven there is no beer; that’s why we drink it here … NOT.   If Anbar is heaven, we have been seriously misled in Sunday School, but General Order #1 prohibits drinking by U.S. military in Iraq.  It shows respect for the local customs and probably saves a lot of trouble.  As a cruel hoax, the chow hall features coolers full of nonalcoholic beer.   It looks like real beer, but that one word modifier says it is not worth drinking.  If there is any real beer on Al Asad, I have never seen any sign of it, and I have looked – until today.  Today is the birthday of the United States Marine Corps and every Marine gets two beers – two real beers – on this happy day.  This includes honorary Marines like me.  All joking aside, it is an honor to be among Marines on their birthday.

First we got a half hour lecture about the history of 2nd Marine Regiment.  It was an interesting history, very heroically told by true believers.  More than the usual number of people showed up for the meeting.  After that, we all filed out and got two OPEN beers.  Nobody can share a beer; nobody can save a beer for later.  It is two beers for everybody and only two beers. Officers, enlisted men and FSOs all get exactly the same numbers.  Colonel Clardy promised to crush anybody who drank more than two beers.  He seemed serious and probably could do it, so nobody risked provoking his wrath.  There was some choice among brands.  We had Bud Light, Coors Light, Miller Special Draft and ordinary Budweiser, I took the Miller.  Bud Light is no better than that ersatz stuff they have at the PX and Coors Light just a baby step above.  Budweiser is brewed from rice.   Need I say more?  Miller Special Draft really is decent beer and its flavor was significantly enhanced by its being in this here and now place.  We were a little worried there would not be enough beer to go around.  According to the Airforce, several cases of beer were “damaged” in transit and could not be delivered.  I am told their story is true.

As long as I am on the subject of beverages, let me say a few words about my favorite beverage, which is Coca-Cola.   I drink a lot of the stuff – more than 2 liters a day.  Until a couple of years ago, I drank ordinary coke.  I used to run a lot and burn off the calories, but nobody can outrun Father Time and after he trips you, his cousin Mr. Fat comes around.   I switched to Diet Coke in Poland.  In Europe it is called Cola Light.   But the interesting thing about Coca Cola, the ubiquitous symbol of the homogeneity of globalization, is that it tastes different in different places.  The best version of ordinary Coke, for example, is found in Brazil.  Western Europe’s Coke has a peculiar taste, but in Eastern Europe Coke is more like the U.S. variety.   European Cola Light is much better than Diet Coke you get in the U.S., even though the cans look similar.  What tastes like Cola Light in the U.S. is Coke Zero.   So when overseas, I drink Cola Light, which now I like even better than sugary Coke.  In the U.S. I go for the crisp taste of Coke Zero. 

Unfortunately, my switch to Diet Coke proved a temporary fix.  Father Time has delivered another kick in the keister and Mr. Fat moved right in again.   I will have to cut down on the chocolate now.  Life is tough all over, but with the proverbial couple of beers softening the blow, today who cares?

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Civics 101

I think this is Haburabi, but I do not know for sure.  I found him while walking around in Baghdad IZ.  The Peruvians guarding a nearby building knew less than I did about it.  They just thought it was bonito.  It did not have an inscription.  So I am just assuming it is Hamurabi because it COULD be Hamurabi and I need the picture of the great lawgiver in this post about the rule of law.  If anybody knows better, let me know.

The council for the sub district in Haqlaniyah is an important part of the emerging democracy in western Anbar.  Members take their positions seriously and of the twenty-two members, at least eighteen regularly attend meeting, but they lack of experience and the absence of clear lines of authority complicate proceedings. The council operates much like a homeowners association in an American suburb.  It avoids some of the issues that naturally might fall under its mandate and debates things beyond its scope.  Members are volunteers.  They were not elected to their posts.  Although they were later confirmed by the provincial governor and are paid for their efforts, the group was self formed by community leaders and/or those who thought of themselves as community leader.

The council conducted some useful business at the meeting we attended.  They discussed provisions for the support of widows, for example.  A bigger topic discussed was the need to create employment.  In this area, however, the Council is essentially powerless.  A disturbing aspect of the debate was, in fact, that Council members thought that they could plan job creation among private businesses and should be involved in micro management decisions of private enterprise. It is a idea the lingers from the failed socialism of the past.  It may take a while for them to realize that they can help create conditions for employment, but that they do not create the jobs.

After the Council meeting, we were treated to a Kabuki performance by a Deputy Mayor. Our ePRT had approached him some time ago to ask him to develop a project in cooperation with the Council.  This latter requirement was specifically the purpose of the project.  Project definition was flexible, since this exercise was designed to foster cooperation among local government officials.  The Deputy Mayor developed plans for a sports complex, avoiding consultation with the Council, while leading the PRT to believe otherwise.   We had come to this meeting ready to finalize a project we thought had been vetted and approved.  We were surprised when the Council Chairman told us that his higher priority would be lighting in the market places and surrounding streets. 

With his game revealed, the Deputy expressed outrage that he had worked so hard with no result.  The end result of this is that WE need to start again.

Beyond personalities, a systemic problem involves lack of coordination among the parts of government.   The councils in each locality can go directly to the provincial council and the governor. They need not coordinate with neighboring districts or even with the mayor of their own locality.   There currently is no district council.   To take the homeowner association analogy to a conclusion, it is as if each homeowner’s association had a line directly into the state governor. 

The council experience will eventually produce leaders of Iraqi local democracy, but watching the process can sometimes be frustrating.  The experience that prepared me best to understand the whole process was my wife’s tenure on our local homeowner’s association.  Personalities rule. 

We cannot be too critical, however.   The problem is that these guys are acting like … politicians.  Democracy is sometimes messy, but it works better than the alternatives.

BTW – the Peruvian who didn’t know about the statue still insisted on having his picture taken when I told him I was going to post the statue picture, so I obliged. 

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My New Friends

I notice from my logs that the visitors at my blog went from around 100 a day to 1587 yesterday.  I am guessing that most of the newcomers are not friends & family.  You were probably drawn here by the notoriety of my comments re FS assignments in Iraq. 

My blog is not designed for a general public, but I certainly welcome anybody who wants to read it.  Most of what and how I write is idiosyncratic and probably interesting only to those who know me.  I don’t expect you will again find anything nearly as controversial as the posting that drew you here.  It was very interesting to see blog posts about what I had written.  My sad conclusion is that many bloggers (Certainly not all.  Some were good) write before they read.  Some are almost embarassingly supportive; others are critical and some are just stupid. I guess it is easier to have an opinion than seek accuracy. 

Anyway, even in an interesting place like Iraq, I tend to think prosaic thoughts, so if you are looking for excitement you probably came to the wrong place.  You are welcome to stay, but I won’t be put out if you don’t. 

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Forestry

Although I earn my money as an FSO, the thing I really like to do is grow trees.   I am the communication director for the Tree Farm Committee at the Virginia Forestry Association.  My main duties consist of writing articles for the magazine, “Virginia Forests”.   I also get to interview the Virginia outstanding tree farmer of the year.  Forestry is more an art than a science and I learn a lot from these masters of forestry that I can use on my own 178 acres in Brunswick County. 

This is the last profile of the tree farmer of the year that I wrote.  I am proud of the article and even prouder of the man I profiled, who has become a friend.  His son made three acres of wildlife clover plots on my land.

The Tree Farm Committee was gracious enough to let me keep my position with them while I was away in Iraq and I am still writing articles.   I hope to get home on R&R in the spring to interview this year’s Virginia tree farmer of the year.  I did not write a blog post today, because I wrote an article for them.  It also refers to Iraq and I include it below.

Forests in the Cradle of Civilization and the Old Dominion

As some of you know, I am writing this far from the forests of Virginia, as I am leading a Provincial Reconstruction Team embedded with the 2nd Marine Regimental Combat Team in Al Asad, Iraq. 

People have been cultivating the soil of this part of the world for more than 6,000 years.  Generations have prospered here, but they also made mistakes with their management of soil, water and vegetation.  We can learn from both their success and mistakes.  In this birthplace of civilization the principles of good stewardship of the land and what grows on it are very much on my mind.

There are well-managed forests here.  Iraq cannot support the forests of loblolly pine, oak or tulip-poplar we see at home, but there are forests of date palms that have been cultivated for centuries.  Our tree farm principles apply to them.  The palms provide fruit in the form of dates, and their shade and the microclimates they foster create environments that protect water resources and help plant and animal communities prosper.  Nearby, however, are barren regions where the soil has been destroyed by poor management, and not far away are examples of the disastrous results of forest exploitation. Hillsides once covered with cedars are now barren and rocky.  Some of these trees went to built Solomon’s Temple or ships for the Pharaohs, but many of these forests were not managed sustainably; they were not managed at all, and now they are no more.

With its ample rainfall and moderate climate, Virginia is a much more forgiving environment.  Our forests will regenerate if given even a small chance. In fact, we see the regeneration all around us. Many of our forests have been harvested and regenerated many times, but that blessing does not mean that good forest management is not essential.  In Virginia, we have the luxury of not asking IF the forest will regenerate, but rather, how long before it is again productive and what sort of forest it will be?  How well will management practices preserve the soil?  Will the waters flowing through the forest be cleaned by the sojourn or filled with silt and pollution from a poorly managed land?  What is the quality of recreation the land supports? Can wildlife flourish?  These are the questions a tree farmer asks — and a good tree farmer is proud of the answers.

Some of the lessons of tree farming might well apply in Iraq.  Most Virginia tree farmers are relatively small landowners.   They love their land, and that informs the management decisions they make about its future.  Here in Iraq it is often unclear who owns a piece of land.  Tribal, private, family and governmental claims overlap and various assets are divided.  A person may own the palms, but not the land.  Somebody else owns the water. One person can graze sheep; another can plant crops.  It is a type of ossified adhocracy. You can understand the logic in each individual aspect, but together they form a heavy burden. 

Those of us who own land in Virginia do not realize how lucky we are to have a clear system of land ownership.  It is hard to be a good steward of land when you cannot make decisions about it.  We are proud and thankful for the good decisions made by those who cared for the forests before us, and resolved to do our part for the future, so that Virginia will be now and forever a place of healthy and productive forests.

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When the Marines Go Home

I am in beautiful Baghdad at a conference to discuss what happens when the Marines start to leave.  It is a good thing that they can.  It is a measure of success in Al Anbar that the Iraqi army and police forces can take over big chunks of territory and it has to happen eventually, but it will make life harder for us at the PRTs.  The Marines give me my food, transportation and even my boots.  I need the Marines.

They will not be all gone, but Marine brigades in Al Anbar will be reduced by more than half by this summer, if all goes as planned.  This means fewer helicopters & humvees as well as fewer places to land the helicopter or park the humvee for the night.   Our AO is as big as the State of South Carolina.  It would be hard enough to travel such a big place, but Al Anbar does not have a good road system like the palmetto state and we have significant security concerns on long road trips.  Even absent these problems, I would look forward to driving 12 hours (that is how long it takes to get to Rutbah) through one of the bleakest deserts in the world w/o the prospect of rest stops or gas stations.

That is why we are making plans now.   Actually, I would call it perhaps less planning and more wishing or hoping.  There are a few options and we are already doing some things that make travel less crucial.  For example, we can (and are) sending our people out for longer periods.   They are essentially embedded in a local town for days or weeks.  We also are looking into hiring local employees, as I mentioned in a previous post.  What might end up happening is that we have a HQ at Al Assad, but most of the staff is someplace else most of the time.

Personally I do not need to worry too much.  As long as I am here (until September next year) there will be enough Marines to take care of most of what I need to do.  I will just need a little more planning and trip consolidation.  They would not have given me a new pair of boots anyway.

More challenging, but more interesting is how the PRTs will take over some of what the Marines do in civil affairs.  The Marines have done an excellent job of securing the country and beginning the job of rebuilding (building) those aspects of civil society that help keep the peace.   They are can do kinds of guys and they do the jobs they are given.

But Marines are fundamentally warriors.  Some of them are getting a little nervous that it is too peaceful around here for them to employ their particular talents to the fullest.  We (PRTs) will need to take some of that civil society program over.  Word is that I will get a few more staff members to go with the accretions of responsibility.   Following the Marines, we have some big boots to fill.

Above is the setting sun through the dust as seen from the back of a chinook.  I look at the world a lot through the back of a helicopter.

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Outstanding in His Field

This guy in thinking, “What the …?” 

We walked around some of the irrigated agriculture near Haditha.   The soil is rich.  Our Ag guy, Dennis, says that this place could have productivity similar to the Imperial Valley.  But there is not much in the way of crop variety or improvements.  They are using the same system as the Babylonians.  They dig ditches and flood square sections.   A lot of water is lost.  The soil is full of gypsum and it does not hold the water well.  Evaporation and salinization are also constant challenges.

In some ways life is perhaps too easy.  The primitive methods produce decent results.  Why mess with success?  Another reason might be lack of materials.   Pipes cost money.  Ditches are free.  But probably the biggest impediment to progress is the screwed up system of land tenure.  It is unclear who owns any given piece of land.  Tribal, private, family and governmental claims overlap.  It gets worse.  Various assets are divided out.   A person may own the date palms, but not the land.  Another person owns the water rights.   One guy can graze sheep; another can plant crops.   It is a type of ossified adhocracy.  You can understand the logic in each individual aspect, but together they form a heavy burden.  A guy might plant a date palm only to find he does not own the harvest; he might improve an irrigation ditch and learn he does not own the water.

One of our colleagues thinks a way to cut this Gordian knot is through real estate taxes.  We all hate to pay them, but they do serve to establish ownership.  I know that I was relieved to receive my first Brunswick County tax bill on my tree farm.   Until then, I nursed the unreasonable fear that I somehow had been duped by those slow talkin’ but clever locals. Paying property taxes indicates ownership and at least a minimal commitment.   W/o that commitment, someone can conveniently wait to assert a claim after all the work is done and when he can steal someone else’s labor.

BTW – you can see the difference between mere involvement and commitment in your bacon and eggs breakfast.  The chicken is involved; the pig is committed.

In any case, I did appreciate that I was looking at the Mesopotamia that Sargon or Nebuchadnezzar would have seen. Alexander the Great might have looked at the same scene as he passed down the Euphrates.  They would have been surprised only by this guy’s stylish clothes and the bike that evidently is his means of transport, otherwise not.

I wonder what the locals thought of us.  I am sure the rumor is more interesting than the truth.  Our “patrol” was just picking up dirt, putting our hands in the water and taking pictures of plants.  Dennis filled a couple bottles with dirt and put a dried turd into his bag for later analysis.   Crazy Americans.

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It’s DaMayor

Sorry no ACTUAL pictures.  I forgot my camera.  My wife tells me my poses are getting formulaic anyway.  The picture I have included is from my files.  It is the house where I grew up in Milwaukee.   I planted that horsechesnut tree on the corner – from seed – in 1966, so you can see how big such a tree gets in 40 years.  Maybe I should have fertilized more…or some.

This is the real post

Sheiks are picturesque, but the future of Iraqi democracy is in the hands of the more prosaic local leaders: mayors, local council members and ordinary administrators.

We had a long talk with one of these guys, the mayor of Haditha at the home of a local notable.  His city of Haditha is recovering from the late unpleasantness.  As we drove through town, I noticed that shops are open and full of goods; people are rebuilding homes and fixing damage.  The neighborhood around our destination was very upscale and looked undamaged or repaired.  When we returned after dark, I noticed that the lights were on all over town.    The condition of the city leaves no doubt that it recently was the center of a war zone, but the life of the city gives hope that those dark times have passed. 

The Mayor is a believer in democracy and free speech.  He expressed some anxiety, however, about the quality of leadership available at the national and provincial level in Iraq.   There was not enough virtue and honesty, he complained, necessary for democracy to flourish and expressed the wish that the U.S.  would encourage the appointment of better officials at the national level, ones that would not be beholden to foreign interests.   He was speaking about Iran.   The general opinion around here is that the Iranians currently have overmuch influence in Iraq.  We discussed the need for virtue more generally. 

Our American founding fathers had little confidence in the long term efficacy of virtue in protecting liberty.   Their reading of the history of republics informed them that virtue is often in short supply among the political classes.  Lord knows we Americans do not usually have enough virtuous politicians to go around.  That is why they relied on balances and checks that would keep virtuous people virtuous or at least channel their self interest into less harmful directions.  With that in mind, I said that all governments need strong institutions to contain the ambition of potential leaders.  The Mayor mentioned a free media.  Unfortunately, this section of Anbar doesn’t have any regular media, but the mayor assured me that informal networks (i.e. gossip) were usually sufficient to keep the people informed.

I wondered if the “Iraqi diaspora” could use the skills and knowledge acquired in exile to help in their former homeland’s transformation, as expatriates from E. Europe had helped those countries throw off the lethargy of communism.   The Mayor corrected me, pointing out that in the case of Poles or Lithuanians, those who left and came back had been well integrated into society.  In some cases, they were well known and respected before they left.  In contrast, the Iraqi exiles were more often members of oppressed minority groups or isolated individuals.   Saddam was more brutal than the later years of communism in Europe.   Many of overseas Iraqis feel less connected with their homeland and are unenthusiastic about returning.  Even if they did they often lacked the networks and entrée that was common for E. European returnees.  Iraq’s future rests almost exclusively on the people who had stayed in, or at least near Iraq.

As we discussed Iraq’s future, we naturally moved to the economy and investment.   There are two big facilities in the Haditha district:  Haditha dam, which supplies power for most of Anbar and some of Baghdad, producing 180-200 mw of hydropower every day, and K3, a refinery and pump station for oil from Bayji in the north.  The pumping doesn’t work and the refining does not even support local needs.    If it was up and running near capacity, it could satisfy local needs and send product to other regions.  K3 produces kerosene and naphtha, the latter is also blended to make benzene.

For a “small” investment of $80 million, the pumping facility, which would service Basra and has connections to the Mediterranean through Syria, could be refurbished and developed, which would facilitate oil export, pay fat dividends and would probably reach a break even point within months, not years .  Why the central authorities, who own the plant, neglect this opportunity remained a mystery to all involved in the discussion.

Iraq needs a lot of investment, the mayor allowed.   That is why he hoped the Americans would be in Iraq now and forever.  He says that he always tells people to look to Japan, Korea and Germany.   The guarantee of stability provided by U.S. involvement s is like an umbrella for investment.   Investment goes only where it feels secure.  The recent success in Anbar has bought some time with the American political process, but the Marines continually point out that they will go home and American troop levels will drop.  Iraqis like the Mayor do not want to hear this.  

Rule of law is a prerequisite for both democracy and the free market.   The mayor pointed to out that during the recent insurgency, rule of law was not well established for the practical reason that it was nearly impossible to gather evidence or bring witnesses.  Now that order is being restored, it is time to establish procedures and rule of law.  We agreed that the test of rule of law was when it was applied to those we disliked. 

It is encouraging to talk to a man like The Mayor.   The discussion highlighted how far Iraq had come, but also how much remains to be accomplished.

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Salaam

Personal greetings are really important around here.  People visibly brighten up when you  acknowledge them with a simple wave and a “salaam”.  All of us make a special point to greet strangers when we pass.  Of course, when someone you know walks in, that is occasion for even more complicated good wishes.  From my initial observations and all I read or am told, this is an intensely personal culture.  Everyone needs to be included and acknowledged and relationships trump everything else.

It is also the culture of the spoken word.  People do not read much, but they listen carefully and remember the elegant spoken word.  Some people just like to hear themselves talk, but surprisingly others like to listen to the long talk.

I am beginning to appreciate the Arabic language.  I understand almost nothing, but I can hear the musical quality and I am learning to enjoythe animation of the speakers.  I like to listen to the calls to prayer and the readings from the Koran.  They are very evocative. 

All I can manage to actually say is the simple Salaam and then I flash a broad smile.  Despite the language barrier, I almost always get a smile back and it think it makes a difference to both of us.

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Dust

I have yet to see the kind of dust storm in the picture and the picture is from the webpage of an earlier inhabitant of Al Asad.  I have something to look forward to. 

Even absent spectacular “Mummy-class” sandstorms, if I had to use one word to describe Al Asad it would be dust.  But I would need more than this one word to describe the dust itself.  Naturally, we have the blowing dust.   I expected the blowing-in-the-wind dust.  It is the other kinds that I find more interesting.

I had not anticipated fog-dust.  I thought that dust would have an identifiable source and would either move in the wind or settle to the ground.  Evidently not.   Night before last I thought a fog had rolled in, but it was dust.  It made the waning moon a very attractive shade of red.  The dust just hung there.   It was still there in the morning when it looked more like a haze.  This morning it was windy and it looked clear, but after I ran around a little, I found that my ears, nose and throat were full of sand.  The finer dust particles are almost invisible.

I have seen moon-dust before, but never so much.  Moon dust is the kind of dust that cannot decide whether it should float in the air or lay on the ground so it does both.  I recently was disappointed to find that what looked like a nice smooth running trail was actually moon-dust obscuring some pretty painful rocks.   Moon dust disperses when you put your foot down; it is almost viscous or liquid. Some crawls up your legs and gets in your shorts; some slithers down and gets in your socks.  It is best avoided.   I do not think the moon-dust is really indigenous to Anbar or natural in general.  The constant rolling of our heavy vehicles and machinery probably creates the moon dust.  You often find moon dust around construction sites and I think that is the process here.

Of course there is the dust that our machines kick up more immediately.  Helicopters are excellent dust creators.  This is the most painful type of dust, containing little stones thrown at high velocity, but you can hunker down and ride it out.

Dust gets on everything.   It is a great equalizer, making dark and light a homogeneous grayish-brown.  I had my sunglasses secured in a zippered pocket, but when I took them out they were covered in dust.  Most of the local dust is khaki colored.  I understand the Brits in India’s Northwest Frontier province, a place with similar soils, “invented” that uniform color after everything they owned spontaneously turned khaki anyway.  The funny thing is that the dust inside building seems whitish.  Maybe if enough of it piled up it would look khaki.  I will probably find out, since. I have to admit that daily dusting is not on my agenda.  Computers are the worst because of all the nooks and crannies in the keyboards and their dust attracting fans and electromagnetic fields.  I keep my computer fairly clean with daily effort.  I bought a bunch of Ziploc bags to put some of my other stuff.  That helps some.   

I don’t suppose it is healthy to breathe all this dust.  My throat and nose feel dry a lot, but otherwise I do not feel any worse for the wear.   If I gain weight, I can blame the dust accretion on my insides.  But the concept of dust inspires no great fear.  I lived through worse.  As a young man I worked at Medusa Cement Company loading bags all day, twelve hour shifts.  That is where I became intimate with dust.  We had the cement equivalent of moon-dust and a lot more dust churning around in whatever lethargic breeze managed to get into the warehouse.  The cement dust would stick to sweaty flesh and it was persistent because it was waterproof once it adhered and hard to wash off.  What worked (and I don’t know why) was Irish Spring soap.   I used to particularly hate the dust in my beautiful blondish hair because it would sort of set up when I got it wet.  The Lord, in his wisdom, has taken the burden of hair off my head.  Besides the Al Asad dust, for all its offensiveness, seems to be water soluble.

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To My Overwrought Colleagues

Sorry to post twice in one day, but I just finished reading this article. 

To my vexed and overwrought colleagues, I say take a deep breath and calm down.  I personally dislike the whole idea of forced assignments, but we do have to do our jobs.  We signed up to be worldwide available.  All of us volunteered for this kind of work and we have enjoyed a pretty sweet lifestyle most of our careers.

I will not repeat what the Marines say when I bring up this subject.  I tell them that most FSOs are not wimps and weenies, but I am ashamed of my crybaby colleagues.  I will not share this article with them and I hope they do not see it. How could I explain this?
Calling Iraq a death sentence is just way over the top.  I volunteered to come here aware of the risks but confident that I will come safely home, as do the vast majority of soldiers and Marines, who have a lot riskier jobs than we FSOs do.

I wrote a post a couple days ago where I said that perhaps everyone’s talents are not best employed in Iraq.  That is still true.  But I find the sentiments expressed by some colleagues in the article deeply offensive.  What are they implying about me and my choice?  If they do not want to come, that is okay.  Personally, I would not want that sort out here with me anyway.  BUT they are not worldwide available and they might consider the type of job that does not require worldwide availability.  

We all know that few FSOs will REALLY be forced to come to Iraq anyway.  Our system really does not work like that.  This sound and fury at Foggy Bottom truly signifies nothing.  Get over it!  I do not think many people feel sorry for us and it is embarrassing for people with our privileges to wrap ourselves in the cloak of victimhood.  

We all know that the FS will step up.  Most of us want to do our duty.  We should not let ourselves be judged by the fools who cry at town hall meetings.