Marines Walk Tightrope In Najaf [Archive] - Marine Corps

thedrifter

08-02-03, 08:58 PM

On April 10, al-Khoei went to the Mosque of Imam Ali. The mosque was built over the tomb of Ali, the caliph who had been assassinated by religious and political enemies after evening prayers in a Kufa mosque. Religious tradition says just before he died he requested that his body be strapped to the back of a camel and buried wherever the camel first knelt. That was Najaf.

A decade later it was the slaughter in Karbala of his son, Hussein -- the grandson of the prophet -- that caused the great schism in Islam in 680 A.D. The followers of Ali and Hussein believed that leadership of Islam should be traced by bloodlines back to the prophet, and that the religion should be characterized by piety, simplicity and justice. They were repulsed at the killing of Mohammed's grandson and broke away from the orthodox Sunni branch.

Today, the gold-domed Imam Ali mosque is contained in a high-walled courtyard, the outer walls decorated with mosaics and punctuated by grand arches. Fatwas, or directives from the leaders, are posted on bulletin boards outside.

Outside the doorways to the inner sanctum is a plaza that serves as marketplace and town square. On April 10, al-Khoei made what he hoped to be a triumphant and peaceful return to the mosque. He came, his followers said at the time, to negotiate the handover of the mosque intact for the safe exit of the Baathists who controlled it.

Exactly what happened next remains unclear, and the joint military-Najaf police investigation is ongoing. But a few minutes after al-Khoei arrived to make peace with Haider al-Kadr, an employee of Saddam's ministry of religion, the crowd turned angry and hacked them both to death.

The Baathists were initially blamed, and indeed merchants in the square still believe Saddam's followers killed the men, they said in interviews with United Press International. But Sadr is on the short list of suspects being investigated as well, U.S. military officials confirm, on the condition of anonymity.

Three days later, on April 13, Najaf threatened to break out in violence again. About 100 members of a newly organized group known as Jamaat-e-Sadr-Thani converged on the house of the Grand Ayatollah al-Sestani, demanding he leave the city. The siege lasted three days; media reports indicate al-Sestani was secreted in a safe house and was never in immediate danger. Clerics from the five-member Hawza -- who oversee religious instruction at the more than 500 religious schools in Najaf and are akin to a council of cardinals -- eventually sent the group home without incident.

Sestani remains in Najaf. His home is in a crowded alley a few yards from the mosque of Imam Ali. But he does not appear publicly and communicates with his followers through his writing and the Hawza.

The Hawza stepped in again to help calm the demonstrators at the U.S. compound last week.

"They definitely don't love us, but they see us as useful," a Marine operations officer told UPI. "They know that the sooner things are on track here the sooner we will leave."

"Sadr wants to be the guy that America picks on," an intelligence officer told UPI.

If he can't claim age, scholarship and wisdom as his calling cards, he seems willing to embrace demagoguery, the officer and others said. They refuse to give him either the legitimacy or the satisfaction.

"He's possibly trying to provoke an overreaction" from U.S. forces, to give him ammunition to rally his supporters," the officer said. "The trick is to try to shut him down without it looking like we are.

"He's like a Chihuahua. If you ignore him he'll stop barking."

By Wednesday, the plan was in place. Conlin would not allow Najaf's peace to be shattered by Sadr, and he had appealed to the Hawza and the newly installed city council for help. He would handle the security end of things if they would do what they could to discourage violence Friday.

He arranged for multiple teams of military and Iraqi police to be on the main roads all night, checking cars and buses for weapons. They turned back 20 buses that displayed banners advocating an uprising or that didn't have registration papers. They arrested nine people -- all with guns without permits -- and confiscated 19 weapons, mostly AK-47s, which one officer likened to "man jewelry."

"Every guy around here has an AK except the police," he said.

Their orders were explicit: Root out the troublemakers but don't impede access to Sadr.

A small Pioneer unmanned aerial vehicle was deployed to keep an eye on the crowds with streaming video, piped directly back to headquarters, to give early warning if something were about to happen.

"We're going to make the streets here look blue with police officers," Conlin told his staff Thursday night, wearing faded and dusty sand-colored camouflage. "Before they see tan they should see blue."

But Conlin's approach wasn't a total crackdown. On Friday morning, he set up a giant water truck, so any protesters who arrived at his gates could slake their thirst. On Thursday night, he deployed a team of 150 Iraqis, 15 tractors and three dump trucks to clean the main streets connecting the Mosque of Imam Ali to the U.S. compound.

Not accidentally, Sadr preaches not at the Ali mosque but in Kufa, across town.

"It's another way of marginalizing him," Conlin explained.

Another controversial imam, Mohammed Bakr al-Hakim of the Iran-backed Supreme Council for the Islamic Revolution in Iraq, has begun preaching at the Ali Mosque every Friday. He also just returned from Iran in April but to a lukewarm reception from Najaf. Posters announcing his arrival are plastered all over the city. He said 20,000 came out to greet him, but Conlin said it was more like 2,000. They were respectful but more curious than anything else.

"To tell you the truth, no one really cared. He looked a hell of a lot like Saddam when he would come through, new white cars, flowing robes, his picture everywhere," an intelligence officer said.

Older and with more credentials, he and Sadr have been locked in something the Marines refer to as "the battle of the mosques," each busing in their supporters from parts north to pack the services and gain fame for their sermons.

Najaf is like the song about New York, Conlin explained.

"If you can make it here, ..." he smiled.

The battalion executive officer, a stocky bald Marine named Maj. Rick Hall, put it this way: "He has force and political backing. But what he doesn't have is religious background. That's why he is in Najaf and not up in Sadr City. He knows he has power in Sadr City."

In this Friday's competition with Hakim, Sadr definitely won: some 11,000 people showed to hear him at the Kufa mosque. Fewer than 2,000 came out for Al Hakim, Conlin said.

But neither of the imams seem to be a threat to Sestani's pre-eminence in the eyes of Najaf. Sestani, after all, was the one who stayed with them during the Saddam's rule.

In the messages Marines have been carrying to their contacts in town this week, they never mention Sadr by name, to avoid legitimizing him as a threat, and to deny him the ability to cry martyr. If he does not have the age or experience to be taken seriously in Najaf as a religious power, they refuse to give him political traction as an anti-U.S. force.

"Sadr certainly presents a threat of violence to the coalition, but he presents a far more serious threat to Shia, to their ability to get things done," Conlin said.

Unlike in the more restive parts of Iraq -- around Baghdad, in the so-called Sunni Triangle -- Najaf and the southern cities under Marine control are making progress. They are relatively secure -- women walk the streets where children play free from fear. The Marines on patrol do so unmolested and are mostly welcomed. If there is a barometer of the people's sentiment, said Lt. Michael Mullins, a logistics officer, it is the older kids. Little children will always wave, because Marines are the source of candy and soccer balls. But kids above the age of 9 of 10 understand what their parents tell them about the Americans. If they wave and greet the Marines, things are OK. It can change from day to day, Mullins said.

There are big problems, to be sure: Fuel lines are long and never seem to move and there are rumors the United States is stealing Iraqi oil. Jobs are few. But things are improving slowly, Conlin insists.

continued..........

thedrifter

08-02-03, 08:58 PM

"From what they were telling us we were going to have ourselves a bit of a Dien Bien Phu. It was going to be the last-ditch fight of this battalion as we held out for reinforcements," he said. "Instead of having to shoot at people we were able to work with people and get things solved."

Early Friday morning, checkpoint guards reported more than 150 buses had made it to Najaf for Sunday services, nearly all of them -- the 11,000 -- bound for Sadr's Kufa mosque and, they worried, to the concertina-wired perimeter of the college.

Conlin had learned from city elders they were planning a counter-demonstration. He thanked them but discouraged it. Although he appreciated the sentiment, the last thing he wanted was for the two groups to clash, which would force his Marines into the fray.

Around noon, when prayers had begun, Conlin wondered aloud where the media were. Just a few days ago, they were out in force, documenting every angry, screaming face in the crowd and the stoic Marines who stood against them. Television news quickly provided an answer. Journalists in Baghdad had been invited to view the dead bodies of Uday and Qusay Hussein. There was a bigger story.

The morning started quietly. Sources inside the mosque told Marine intelligence that Sadr's hourlong speech had been almost entirely political. He had insisted the Marines had surrounded his house. He railed against the national governing council appointed by Coalition Provisional Authority chief L. Paul Bremer. He complained about the checkpoints. But he told his congregation to go home over the Kufa bridge -- a route that would take them straight back to Baghdad, rather than through Najaf and toward the Marines.

There would be no demonstration.

By 3 p.m., the shrine district was largely empty, most people having gone inside for lunch and rest during the hottest part of the day. Merchants selling figs, dates, sodas and pictures of Sestani outside the Ali mosque gathered to talk about Sadr.

"He's a good religious man," one said. The troubles last week came from Baathists, they insisted.

Police officers said much the same thing.

"We respect him. Sadr believes in peace. He is not a dangerous man, but some of his followers are," said Ibrahim Karim, 20. "All the people off Najaf are peaceful. But people of Baghdad and Fallujah invade Najaf."

Another officer added, "We know around here they want to make prayers. We ask the U.S. forces to be patient. And yes they are patient right now."

With the tension of the day draining away, Conlin was able to declare it a success -- but said the credit went to the city of Najaf.

"This is their victory," Conlin said, on a break from periodic forays into the city, and from the radio room that collected reports from reconnaissance units in town. "Najaf has come a long way."

Conlin is convinced Sadr's quest for power and influence will continue to be a problem.

"But what's good is the city stood up and he backed down," Conlin said.

Whether it was because the religious elders had warned Sadr not to cause trouble, or because the Marine campaign to subtly marginalize him worked -- or if Sadr was media savvy enough to know they were not leaving Baghdad to cover his protest -- Conlin could not say. What's important is he proved there is another way for the military to counter violence in Iraq than with bayonets and bullets.

"It's an indication it doesn't have to look like Falluja," Conlin said, a reference to the city to the north that seethes with violent demonstrations and attacks on U.S. soldiers.

At the night's staff meeting, Conlin handed out congratulations for a job well done -- the protest that wasn't.

Said one of staff member to another, as the meeting wound to a close: "They have it easier up there in Falluja. They just go and get the bad guys. We're down here treading water."

Sempers,

Roger
:marine: