Another side of the surge (Part 3)

This is the final section of my recent article in the Pittsburgh Political Review.

There’s got to be a different way to run Iraq
Ali Fadel al-Misir deserted from Saddam’s army in the 1980’s near the end of the war with Iran. Like many deserters, he bounced around the neighboring countries of the Middle East waiting for the right time to slip back to his family in Baghdad without drawing any attention. He connected with a few of the Shia anti-Saddam groups in exile in Iran and Syria, but never felt compelled to join up with these emerging insurgent movements. He did make it back to his family (riding a motorcycle through the desert from Damascus to Baghdad) and then watched as his country suffered the shame of the 1991 Gulf War and the decade of UN sanctions. He praised the fall of the Saddam regime and was eager to support the efforts of building a new democracy in 2003. He was selected by his neighborhood to serve on the local council and was soon moved up to higher positions within the district, and then the Provincial Council. In late 2004, the Provincial Council chose Ali Fadel to serve as Governor of Baghdad following the assassination of Governor Ali al-Haidary.

The elections of 2005 were a major turning point for Iraq’s democracy – but not in the way that they are commonly portrayed. They did feature millions of Iraqis participating in one of the cornerstones of democracy, an election; however, it is crucial to look deeper into this event to see some of its later ramifications. Before these elections, most Iraqis serving in Baghdad’s provincial government were local community leaders with no partisan affiliation, and were generally dedicated to a “moderate” conception of what they wanted Iraq’s new democracy to look like, rejecting violence as a means to achieve political ends, respecting the rule of law and believing in human rights for all regardless of sect, ethnicity or creed. After these elections, the Baghdad Provincial Council’s membership did not represent Baghdad’s districts; they represented Baghdad’s major political parties (the system changed from geographical representation to a party-list vote). Furthermore, one can generalize that most of these partisan loyalists conceive of politics as a winner-take-all endeavor; democracy is a way to take power – not share it.

Ali Fadel and a number of other moderate leaders were swept from power in 2005, and watched from the sidelines as much of their democracy-building efforts were undone as a new era of sectarian politics was ushered into Baghdad. The new Shia-dominated Provincial Council (45 of 51 seats in that assembly) used their leverage to fire a number of municipal employees and replace them with political appointees in blatant episodes of partisan patronage. Local councils that did not toe the line of new Provincial Council directives found their budgets confiscated. The reverberations of this sudden and acrimonious divide between the local moderates and the provincial partisans still affect governance in Baghdad.

Politics everywhere can often be seen as some form of a client/patron relationship; in return for political loyalty, leaders distribute money, jobs and other forms of largesse (like protection) to their followers. This is particularly evident in Baghdad, as what we generally consider political parties are merely the political wings of complex organizations that have massive charity components as well as militia elements; many developed as underground and/or international resistance groups to the Saddam regime, and bring this mentality into Baghdad’s politics. After a meeting I brokered between the current Governor of Baghdad, Hussein al-Tahan and the Commander of the 4th Infantry Division, where these two men argued over the best way to fight the insurgency in Baghdad, Governor Hussein, a former Badr Corps commander, candidly told me that he felt the American commander wasn’t taking his ideas seriously enough. “I think I know what I am talking about,” he said, a clear reference to his former career leading insurgent attacks in Baghdad – against the Saddam regime. Governor Hussein’s temperamental leadership style and his relentless advocacy on behalf of Baghdad’s Shia community were clear indications of his past, and his strong connections to Tehran built during years in exile in neighboring Iran.

New political parties that do not have such a legacy in armed resistance or the resources of a social welfare network are at a severe disadvantage in Baghdad’s political arena. However, Baghdad does have a sizable population of politically active individuals that would like to see politics change; many want to see the current politics of identity transform into a politics of issues and ideals. After being pushed out of politics in 2005, many of these local leaders turned their efforts to civil society organizations and local social activism. Spurned by their own government, many of these leaders turned to American and international sources for funding. While we recognized that such one-off support to local moderates was indeed good for Baghdad, it did not seem to be either sustainable or conducive to helping these moderates affect change in the political system. Former Governor Ali Fadel al-Misir suggested a shift in our tactics.

Feeling left out of politics? How about a support group…
Along with the “civilian surge” of PRT personnel came a surge of money, in the form of Quick Reaction Funds (QRF), which we were to spend on “soft” development (as opposed to “hard” spending on infrastructure projects). We had QRF money to spend on training sessions, cultural events, democracy workshops; the conceptual shift that developed through the genesis of the Baghdad League was that the spending of this money could help Iraqi moderates build a support network amongst themselves – not just become dependent upon American aid. Ali Fadel suggested that a board of directors of elite Baghdad moderates made up of individuals with some public notoriety like himself and notable activist Madeeha Hasan Odhaib (named to TIME magazine’s list of the World’s 100 Most Influential People (2008) for her advocacy on the plight of displaced persons in Baghdad), assist with the PRT’s outreach efforts to support local activism and civil society organizations across Baghdad. Thus American money would take on an Iraqi face and facilitate a different type of client/patron relationship – one based on shared ideals for public activism, not sectarian identity. Under the leadership of Ali Fadel, the Baghdad League took shape as a forum for many moderates who lack an outlet in active politics, but inspired by a sense of community and comradeship may throw their hats in the ring in future elections. With a new round of provincial elections scheduled for early 2009, there are many in Baghdad hopeful about changes that can bring a better future. Changes they have a say in.

Change we can believe in?
Iraq has entered a new phase. The earlier threat of all-out sectarian civil war has passed; most of the violence is now criminally-driven enterprise in a weak-state environment. The government of Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki has made strides in enforcing its will, notably with the actions in Basra, Sadr City and Mosul; moves that are forcing individuals like Moqtada al-Sadr to recalculate his movement’s participation in legitimate versus illicit activities. Maliki’s progress is due to a number of factors, but one I want to stress is simply that he and many others currently serving in the government are merely just getting better at doing their jobs. Running a government isn’t easy in any circumstances; fighting a complex insurgency is a tough way to get on-the-job training.

Regarding American involvement in Iraq, it is tempting and quite common to have beliefs on one hand, that the US is imposing “democracy at the point of a gun” in Iraq; or on the other, that democracy is doomed to failure in the Middle East for historical and cultural reasons. Both arguments are cynical and completely inaccurate. Iraqi politics is a competitive arena where many visions contend for supremacy; pluralistic democracy would be the goal of many with or without the US occupation. The people of Iraq continue to cope with the violent transformation of their society; it is crucial to understand the complexity of this situation and the contours of its trajectory in order to determine the best course of action for the future. Baghdad is still a very violent place. True political reconciliation is still an objective, not a reality. The trains are not running on time, and they won’t for a while. But we are also not where we were when the Iraq Study Group stated that “the situation is grave and deteriorating.” Probably the most important factor that led to the success of the surge is that we even tried it in the first place.

Cheers for Baghdad
Where can you get a six-pack of beer in downtown Baghdad? Nowadays, just about anywhere. That wasn’t the case in early 2007. The city was a violent mess. Citizens lived in constant fear of finding themselves on the wrong side of the militant thugs, criminal gangs and religious zealots that controlled their neighborhoods. Bars, restaurants, and discos were shuttered. I asked my friend, a former Iraqi army officer and born-and-bred Baghdadi, Omar al-Rahmani, how would we know if life in Baghdad was getting any better? He said, “When we start drinking again.” One evening Omar and I got the chance to split a bottle of Scotch, drinking to the endurance of an extraordinary city and its courageous people.

Another side of the surge (Part 2)

This is the second of a three-part article on the "surge."

Taking money away from criminal gangs
Zaid al-Jafari still drives a beat-up Volkswagen to work at the National Security Advisor’s office every day. Mid-forties, with a wife and several children, Zaid has a lot to look forward to in life – and a lot to worry about. Many officials working for the Government of Iraq have finagled their way into getting an armored sedan and a driver to take them to work as well as many other perks, but Zaid resists the temptation to take advantage of his position – either for profit or personal safety. His selfless dedication to his country and its people was an inspiration for many of his Iraqi colleagues and his American friends; his reputation for integrity brought him to the attention of a US Embassy official, Jamie Miller, who was tasked by Ambassador Ryan Crocker to approach the Iraqi government about launching a joint anti-corruption effort in fuel delivery. Zaid and Miller conceived of Project Clean Delivery, a pilot program designed to improve the delivery of kerosene to one of Baghdad’s neighborhoods in order to develop lessons-learned for further efforts targeting corrupt officials and militant criminality subverting the delivery of government services in Baghdad.

Iraq has a public welfare system that delivers products to its entire population as a basic right; Iraqis get a monthly basket of foodstuffs from the government as well as authorization to purchase rations of fuels like kerosene, commonly used for cooking and heating. Iraq sells its fuel at a cheap subsidized rate to its citizens. With a weak government, this is a recipe for disaster. Corrupt officials on the inside and criminal networks on the outside have incredible incentives to divert these supplies and re-sell them (at black market rates) for exorbitant prices. Profits taken in Baghdad’s neighborhoods were supporting the militias that were terrorizing those very neighborhoods. Project Clean Delivery brought together US and Iraqi officials from a variety of institutions to look at every conceivable angle of this problem: the economic (are there policies we can change?), the security (can we prevent theft of kerosene at the warehouses?), the political (how will leaders who may be profiting from illicit activity respond?), the bureaucratic (what new procedures would prevent corrupt officials from re-selling fuel?) and major problems involving infrastructure (can we get more fuel into Baghdad to begin with?).

Over the winter of 2007-08, the Project Clean Delivery team securely delivered kerosene at the government price to over 50,000 families in recovering post-conflict neighborhoods in downtown Baghdad. This successful delivery inspired the expansion of the project into other areas of Baghdad and brought serious attention to efforts to fight corruption in the delivery of other government services. Project Clean Delivery, as a coordinated attempt to build Iraqi inter-institutional cooperation, propose effective anti-corruption measures and encourage debate about Iraq’s social and economic policies, was a success for a variety of reasons. One key factor came from “the ground up.”

One of the primary reasons Baghdad’s citizens permitted militias to operate in their neighborhoods was due to the perceived security they could provide in an unpredictably violent city. But it had a price. Criminal militias exploited these neighborhoods, charging “protection fees” from merchants, ransoms for kidnappings, and by taking a cut of the official fees due the government for some services. As security began to improve, many of Baghdad’s citizens began to turn against these militia practices. A combination of this backlash against militias amongst Iraqis, coupled with effective targeting of militia leadership by US forces, plus the docility of militants obeying Moqtada al-Sadr’s cease-fires during this period produced some significant momentum towards convincing many Shia political leaders to widen the political space in Baghdad and pull back from some formerly extreme positions to consider compromise with rival factions. As we started to gain ground with this initiative focused on the urban Shia population of Baghdad a major breakthrough occurred with the rural Sunnis.

The Sunni suburbs find a Communist champion
Rural areas generally always feel neglected by a central government; Baghdad province’s outlying communities, a ring of small towns and villages separated by sparse badlands around the edge of metropolitan Baghdad, have always gotten the short end of the stick. One Provincial Council member described to me Saddam’s method of dealing with those rural areas dominated by tribal leaders: “F—k ‘em.” However these rural areas and tribal communities were also serving as havens for Iraq’s insurgency and thus were critical to the long-term stability of Baghdad. Even though “foreign fighters” from neighboring countries were responsible for bringing in much of the ideology, weaponry and funding that supported the insurgency, the truth of the matter was that local Iraqis often harbored, supplied and fought alongside these insurgent groups. But just like many of the Shia militants that went too far in exploiting their neighborhoods, many of the Sunni insurgent leaders found their villages turning against them after they demanded strict observance of Islamic customs and banned smoking, alcohol and entertainment. Insurgent groups were also muscling in on many tribal leaders’ traditional power base – the distribution of jobs and money around the village. Some of these tribal sheikhs started to push back. This Sunni backlash moment in Baghdad’s hinterlands was fostered by the Awakening of Anbar province, as well as the shift in US military policy that permitted units to hire local “security guards” from among these tribal populations. Money is a strong competitor with ideology. So fairly soon we found ourselves engaging with a number of Sunni leaders from rural Baghdad that suddenly liked Americans, but they certainly didn’t like the Shia politicians running the central government. To help bridge that gap, we needed a Communist.

Subhy al-Meshadani is one of a dying breed of Iraqi: a cosmopolitan, poetry-quoting, hard-drinking, Paris-loving, international worker of the world. One of two members of the Iraqi Communist Party elected to the Baghdad Provincial Council, he has the distinction of being the only ethnic Sunni Arab on that body. Primarily known for giving long-winded speeches (even by lengthy Iraqi standards) and then falling asleep during council meetings, Subhy’s career took a surprising turn when Chairman Mueen al-Khademy tapped him to take over the Rural Services Committee, the body responsible for developing provincial government policy for the delivery of services to the outlying rural counties of Baghdad province. At first it seemed like a clever ploy by Mueen – the token Sunni on the Council given the impossible task of improving services in those ungovernable tribal areas. However, Subhy proved remarkably adept at charming both some very wary Sunni tribal leaders and some extremely hesitant Shia government officials; bringing them together in a forum we called the Joint Rural Planning Committee.

Baghdad’s government is extraordinarily complex; to improve any one service you have to deal with the technocratic officials that work in that ministry and their political bosses, the local council that represents the people in that area, and the local executive official that works for the Governor of the province in that area. Getting the Joint Rural Planning Committee up and running was thus a massive exercise. The idea was to schedule regular meetings where leaders from a rural community would truck in to the IZ (International Zone, a.k.a. the Green Zone) in downtown Baghdad (often escorted by the US Army unit responsible for that area) and talk (argue; shout; complain; rant; etc) about the service needs of their communities to officials from the provincial and national governments. The first few meetings we were just glad nobody got shot. Soon the meetings became more streamlined and productive. And then, in May 2008, Chairman Mueen decided that the meetings should be held at the Provincial Council, not at the PRT’s office in the IZ. This was a crucial turning point. The Shia leader of the Shia-dominated Provincial Council was taking responsibility for a forum largely beneficial to Sunni residents of Baghdad. In a moment of candor, Chairman Mueen admitted that the move might be “politically advantageous” for him; in other words, he saw political value in showing that the Provincial Council was reaching out to some disenfranchised communities in Baghdad. A stepping stone towards a more politically-inclusive Iraq. But political progress isn’t just about bridging the sectarian divide; it’s about fundamentally changing the nature of politics.

Another side of the surge (Part 1)

I wrote an article for the Pittsburgh Political Review, a campus magazine, detailing my experiences as part of the "civilian surge" in Baghdad from early 2007 until mid-2008. I will post "Politics and Progress" in a three-part series over the next few days.

This is Part 1.

Politics and Progress
Another side of the surge

US troop fatalities in Iraq have fallen and the numbers of Iraqi civilian deaths and of violent incidents reported in Baghdad show similar positive trends. The re-opening of public parks and outdoor markets, relaxed nighttime curfews and trends of increased alcohol sales and consumption are just a few of the indicators of social life creeping towards some kind of normalization due to the improved security that Baghdad has experienced over the past months. Something has been going right in Baghdad lately. While there is little debate over whether life in Baghdad has improved, there is much debate over how this change occurred.

This article is about the “surge.” That’s a loaded term, so I’ll define what I mean. In January 2007, a new shift in strategy called The New Way Forward in Iraq added over 20,000 US troops to the Baghdad area. But the surge was not just about more troops. They were deployed in smaller units in more neighborhoods, and were more focused on providing security for the local Iraqi population. So the surge was both a quantitative – and qualitative change. The overall goal of this shift in security posture was to produce the stability that would create the space necessary for the Iraqi political process to get back on track and legitimize the government.

Legitimacy for a government is connected to two things, both related to the delivery of services to its citizens. First, citizens need to feel that are connected to the political process that determines the distribution of those services and second, they need to feel that their government has the actual ability to effectively deliver those services. At the onset of the surge the Government of Iraq was failing on both counts; the political process was widely perceived to be subverted by sectarianism and government institutions were not capable of provided adequate services. The challenges were enormous. Where do you start?

A “civilian surge” adds shoes to the boots on the ground
That’s where I come in. Another aspect of the strategy shift was the “civilian surge,” an expansion of the number of State Department officers deployed to work on Provincial Reconstruction Teams (PRTs). Provincial Reconstruction Teams are civil/military interagency teams tasked to help provincial-level government institutions develop a transparent and sustained capability to govern while promoting increased security, rule of law, political reconciliation and economic development. I returned to the Baghdad PRT in early 2007 with the State Department after completing a previous tour with the Army in Baghdad and served as senior policy advisor in Baghdad until May 2008. Working with Iraqi politicians, civil society activists, tribal sheikhs and the occasional reformed insurgent we performed counterinsurgency and promoted governance development programs, turning short term political reconciliation into sustained participation. The thrust of this article is going to focus on a series of political initiatives launched with the Iraqi government to capitalize on breakthroughs brought on by the improved security posture of US forces. My definition of the surge emphasizes the qualitative components of the shift in strategy that go beyond its purely military aspects and I intend to convey a narrative that highlights the agency of some Iraqis that, in many ways, are the true story of the surge.

Politics in Baghdad is a full-contact sport. Who wants to play?
Since my interpretation favors an Iraqi-centric approach, let me introduce you to some of the major characters. Members of the highly organized Shia political parties play a principal role. Baghdad’s provincial government has three major positions, all filled by individuals affiliated with ISCI (the Supreme Islamic Council in Iraq; led by Shia cleric Abd-al Aziz al-Hakim). Provincial Council Chairman Mueen al-Khademy, Governor Hussein al-Tahan and Mayor of Baghdad City Saber al-Esawi control key levers of power in Baghdad, with authority over millions of dollars in budgets, hiring and firing of thousands of government employees, and the disbursement of a wealth of government contracts. Baghdad is a unique province because it is home to the capital city of the nation. Because of ambiguities in Baghdad’s administrative law, traditional systems compete with post-2003 innovations and political and institutional conflicts are rife; even though they are affiliated with the same party the Provincial Council, Governor and Mayor often find themselves at odds with each other and with the national government on many issues.

Mid-level officials without strong party affiliations form another key group in Baghdad; individuals like Zaid al-Jafari at the office of Iraq’s National Security Advisor and Ali Fadel al-Misir, a former governor of Baghdad, face extraordinary challenges performing their duties. Iraq has seen its traditionally large pool of competent civil servants reduced due to violence and flight; many who remain are cowed into supporting the more extreme impulses of a new cadre of political bosses. However, there remains a vanguard committed to speaking truth to power and using their position in government to equitably and efficiently serve the people of Iraq. Many have faced politically-motivated firings, intimidation and even assassination for their efforts, yet they continue in the face of adversity.

Another group vital to this story are those who found themselves at the margins of political life in Baghdad, but for a variety of reasons decided to engage in meaningful avenues of participation, rejecting the appeal to insurgency and violent resistance to the government. The figure of Subhy al-Meshadani, the lone Sunni on the Baghdad Provincial Council, embodies the efforts of those able to bridge the gap between the politically disenfranchised and the institutions of power in Baghdad. Working with tribal leaders of the rural communities on the outskirts of Baghdad, Subhy was instrumental in creating forums to build sustainable relationships between these communities, often former al-Qaeda havens, and Baghdad’s government.

Windows of opportunity cracked open by security gains
Over the summer of 2007 the security situation began to show signs of improvement in Baghdad. The US military, working much more closely with Iraqi counterparts through a new institution called the Baghdad Operations Command, launched a series of security initiatives intended to better protect the Iraqi population. One initiative focused on protecting key markets in downtown Baghdad frequented by the largely Shia population, emplacing controlled access points and barriers designed to prevent access to suicide bombers. A second program emplaced protective barriers around Sunni neighborhoods that were prey to Shia militants pursuing a strategy of violent eviction and sectarian intimidation. Both of these measures were yielding results by mid-2007; mass casualty suicide bombings in markets dropped while the pace and ferocity of forced sectarian removals slowed.

With progress being made on the security front, eyes turned towards the political process. At the national level the Iraqi government was gripped by stalemate, but at the local level the additional troops and PRT personnel on the ground were starting to build contacts with local leaders frustrated with the performance of the political leaders running their country. We decided to focus our efforts on reconciliation “from the ground up.” Support to these local leaders in their efforts to acquire better services for their neighborhoods and villages was one way to we sought to generate enough pressure on the elite leadership of the country to make some political compromises and get Iraq on the path to progress. One major problem these local leaders demanded to have addressed was the pervasive corruption in the delivery of fuel to their neighborhoods.

Baghdad from above

"GOLDEN KEEPSAKES"

“GOLDEN KEEPSAKES”
Beaufort resident reflects on life of perseverance
by Dan Bisbee
Published in Carteret County News-Times (2002)


A pair of gold cufflinks. If they hadn’t been well hidden in a candy wrapper, Susanne’s life would have turned out drastically different. Tragically different.

Susanne was 10 years old at the time, as the Nazi soldiers boarded the train and began searching the children’s luggage for forbidden items. Items such as valuable jewelry. Discovery of the cufflinks would have most certainly resulted in Susanne’s being dragged off the train and sent back to Czechoslovakia. And eventual deportation to a concentration camp.

But the guards did not suspect anything amiss. The cherubic face quietly munching on her candy drew no special attention. The train pulled out of the station, and rolled towards Holland, and eventual safety across the English Channel.

Susanne was one of the 10,000 children that escaped from Hitler’s Germany and occupied territories on the Kindertransport in the months preceding World War Two. The Kindertransport, the subject of the Academy Award winning documentary film “Into the Arms of Strangers”, was set up when concerned Jewish citizens of Great Britain convinced the British Parliament and the German government to allow a number of European Jewish children to seek refuge in England. Emigration of Jewish families at that time had been severely curtailed, both by a German government intent on their destruction, and other nations’ reluctance to allow an influx of new Jewish refugees, including the United States. As the harassment and outright hostility of Hitler’s regime towards its Jewish population erupted, the Kindertransport provided hope that at least some would be spared. Parents placed their children on a train, not knowing if they would ever see them again.

Susanne made it to England and reunited with her father, who had escaped by traveling through Poland. She immediately gave him the cufflinks.

“He was furious,” Susanne said. “He couldn’t believe my mother had taken such a risk by hiding gold in my candy.” The cufflinks had been a wedding present to her father from her mother, who remained in Nazi-controlled Czechoslovakia.

Susanne Van Dyne’s (then Susanne Deutsch) episode on the Kindertransport is just one event in a very full life. She has experienced uncommon events of sadness and tragedy. But through her experiences has also learned hard lessons in perseverance and survival. Now retired and living in Beaufort, Susanne recently decided to begin writing her memoirs. She believes sharing her story might help others in facing crises in their own lives.

The beginning of Susanne’s life held no inkling of the future difficulties that she would face.

“I was a spoiled little girl,” Susanne said. Born an only child into a successful Jewish family in Vienna, Austria in 1928, Susanne was accustomed to the privileges of wealth in a very cultured world. She was tutored in French, took piano lessons and spent hours getting her clothes custom fitted with her mother.

“It was extremely tedious, getting fitted for all of my clothes. It was years before I learned that most people bought their clothes in a department store,” Susanne said.

When Hitler rose to power in neighboring Germany in 1933, few Austrian Jews took notice. There was a very vibrant Jewish community in Vienna that was very well assimilated into Austrian life. Reports from German relatives about Nazi harassment and discrimination seemed far away, and no worse than typical anti-Semitism of the time. Life went blissfully on as Hitler spent years building Germany into the incredible machine that he would soon unleash upon the world. Too few paid any attention to Hitler, until it was too late. Susanne’s father, Josef, was paying attention.

“My father had been increasingly aware of the danger inherent in Hitler’s rise to power. My mother and her friends seemed to deny it until it was too late,” Susanne said.

Her father began shifting some of his business interests to Poland and England, and considered ways to get the family out of Austria. But the danger still seemed far away.

In March 1938, everything changed.

“Nazi flags went up everywhere overnight. Jews were not allowed to sit on park benches. I could no longer go to school and was restrained from going outside alone,” Susanne said. What had happened was the Anschluss. Austria united with Germany, and with the arrival of the Nazi regime came their vicious anti-Jewish policies.

Josef decided that the time had come to get as far away from Hitler as possible. He packed up the family and sent them to Prague, Czechoslovakia where Susanne’s grandmother lived. Josef went on to Poland to determine if emigration there was possible. His property in Vienna, including the house and a wood veneer manufacturing factory, was confiscated by the pro-Nazi Austrian government.

Others who stayed in Vienna soon realized the awful cost of living under Hitler. Kristallnacht. The ‘Night of Broken Glass.’ In November of 1938, the Nazis unleashed a violent demonstration of hate and racism as roving bands shattered Jewish-owned storefronts, burned synagogues, and beat and lynched Jews in the streets.

Soon after, Kindertransport trains began leaving German cities bound for England filled with children, many soon to become orphans.

Prague proved to be a safe haven for a very short time. The Munich Agreements of 1939 allowed Hitler to invade and control Czechoslovakia without firing a shot. Again, Susanne and her family were in immediate danger. And again, those who thought Hitler had achieved his final conquest were wrong.

“My father had an apartment in Warsaw, and was trying to get us passage there. He then traveled to England and tried again.” But he could not arrange for passage of Susanne’s grandmother.

“My mother refused several opportunities to leave as she would not leave her mother, and my father could not bring three of us out at the same time,” Susanne said.

That refusal would be a tragic decision. Fortunately Josef prevailed upon his wife to send Susanne to England on a Kindertransport train. The Prague Kindertransports were organized by Nicholas Winton, a 30-year old English businessman who haphazardly cancelled a skiing vacation to Switzerland and ended up in Prague, responsible for saving hundreds of lives.

“I remember the scene at the station. My mother’s best friend came along. I got on the train; my mother was crying and screaming that she would never see me again. I did not know what she meant and was rather embarrassed,” Susanne said.

Josef had paid the 50 pounds required by the British government and waited for his daughter to arrive in London. Susanne’s case was unusual in that she had a parent waiting for her. Most of the children ended up in English foster homes and orphanages.

“I think I had a better chance of going because I did have someone at the other end who would guarantee that I would not become a burden on His Majesty’s Government,” Susanne said.

“My mother told me I was joining my father in England. I was delighted to join him – life with my mother and grandmother had been very restrictive and depressing. I had always been very close to Father and in Prague I couldn’t even attend school. It looked like a great adventure to me,” Susanne said about leaving Prague.

“In an effort to save my life, my mother had me baptized. The baptism was a mere formality, and I’ve gathered that many such attempts were made. One thing I noticed in Prague is that Christians, when they walked past a church would cross themselves quite often. And I remember, after this ceremony – which my mother paid for – we were in a tram, and we passed a church and I crossed myself. I thought that was very exciting.” Susanne added, “I’ve always thought that I would have made a great Catholic- if they had gotten to me earlier.”

Unfortunately the only true protection from Nazi persecution was escape. Susanne made it to England. Her mother and grandmother never did. They were eventually rounded up with thousands of other Jews, gypsies, communists, intellectuals, homosexuals and other ‘non-Aryan’ undesirables and deported to the Auschwitz concentration camps. Their souls joined the nearly six million others who perished in the Holocaust.

It would not be the only time that Susanne would tragically lose a loved one.

Susanne grew up during World War Two at a Jewish boarding school for girls. At first it was located in southern England, but when German bombing raids began it was evacuated to a small town in North Wales.

“When I arrived, I could speak my native German and French, but no English. I tried to pick it up as quickly as possible. I did and soon I was reading everything I could get my hands on- Dickens, Shakespeare, Dumas, everything.” Susanne said. Susanne enjoyed her time at the school getting a liberal arts education.

“My father was a bit upset sometimes – he thought I wasn’t learning anything practical. He found it amusing – and annoying – that they taught us ballroom dancing,” Susanne said. “He thought that rather frivolous.”

“My father was one of the few foreign nationals who were not interned during the war in England- he helped in the war effort,” Susanne said. Josef’s knowledge of wood products proved useful in airplane and ship construction.

After the war, rebuilding began. Josef married a younger German Jewish woman who lived in his London boardinghouse during the war. Susanne, a young woman herself now, did not get along well with her new stepmother, and her relationship with her father also deteriorated.

“He became a sad person after the war. He had lost a great marriage,” Susanne said.

Things became more strained as she attended art school in London to learn dress design, and got engaged. Her father disapproved of Sam, her fiancé, and the families disagreed about nearly everything including the wedding arrangements.

“My father attended the wedding, but he wouldn’t give me away. Then I remember leaving the synagogue after the service and seeing my father and Sam’s father in an altercation – almost a fistfight – in the street. I think someone had said something nasty about my stepmother, who was a heavy, unattractive woman,” Susanne said.

Several months later the young couple moved to Los Angeles. Sam, a graphic designer, eventually got work, but Susanne could not get a job in dress design. She became a dental assistant for several years. Then her life changed drastically again.

In 1955, her second child Valerie was born with mild brain damage. Told that she should just give up on her daughter and consider institutionalization, Susanne would not. Frustrated with the lack of support and educational programs that existed at the time, Susanne decided to create them. This became the major occupation of her life. She developed residential and day programs for special populations and also set up homeless shelters. She remained in social services until her retirement.

Her marriage began to falter, and Susanne and Sam divorced in 1971. She relocated with Valerie and her youngest son, Larry to Virginia. Her eldest son, Geoffrey graduated from the University of Michigan and moved to New York to pursue a career in theatre and dance. Susanne was busy developing more educational programs in the D.C. area. Valerie was adapting and taking on more responsibility for herself. Susanne met and married Ted, an FAA inspector. She was rebuilding.

And then the nightmare.

Visiting a neighbor’s house, Larry was shot and killed by a friend playing with a rifle. He was sixteen and a half years old.

“I never think consciously that I will never see friends or children again but always ‘I know’ there is that possibility. My youngest son died very suddenly- here one moment- gone the next,” Susanne said.

Again, rebuilding. Again, perseverance.

Susanne and Ted visited Geoffrey in New York, and Susanne was pleased to see how well the two got along. Her relationship with her eldest son had always been difficult; strained. But now a chance to rebuild this most precious and fragile of relationships appeared to be possible at last.

But then another nightmare. This one longer.

Geoffrey was sick. He had AIDS. After four and a half years of the best treatments at the time, he died in 1991.

While others might curse God and fall prey to depression, Susanne does not.

“You don’t have to look very far to see the suffering of other people,” Susanne said.

“I consider myself a survivor- you just have to keep going. I’ve always tried to reach out to others who may not have my coping skills,” Susanne said modestly.

Susanne and Ted left the northern Virginia area and lived in Swansboro several years before moving to Beaufort. Valerie is now married and works at the Pentagon.

Susanne lives close to the gym where does water aerobics three times a week. She is taking a sketching class and re-discovering her love of art that she abandoned so long ago. And she has signed up for a writing class. So that she can tell her story. So that others might know what can be experienced in a lifetime. And knowing, draw from it lessons on the ability to overcome; to persevere; to heal.

Susanne had a special pin made several years ago. It was made out of two special gold cufflinks. She wears it when she wants to remember.

All Politics is Local PART 1

All Politics is Local
A year working with the new democracy in Baghdad

published in Transatlantic Perspectives Volume V, Fall 2006



Returning to my Alexandria apartment on the afternoon of 13 February 2005, I admit to being slightly flabbergasted to find a Western Union telegram in my mailbox, which barked at me in all capital letters: “PURSUANT TO PRESIDENTIAL EXECUTIVE ORDER, YOU ARE ORDERED TO REPORT FOR A PERIOD OF ACTIVE DUTY…” I found the message surprising not only for its content, but for the fact that Uncle Sam was actually calling up ex-soldiers via Western Union telegrams, and not by, say, a normal letter. I immediately felt a kinship with the Greatest Generation, although probably not in the same way the author of the telegram intended. I half expected it to read “LOOSE LIPS SINK SHIPS!” at its conclusion. I had about a month to pack up, get back in shape and get ready for my stint fighting the Global War on Terror. In a few weeks I would report for training at the JFK School for Special Warfare at Ft. Bragg, North Carolina. I was headed to Iraq.

I’ve recently returned from my year-long deployment with the U.S. Army in Iraq as a Civil Affairs officer, working most of that time in Baghdad. The Civil Affairs (CA) branch draws from the civilian skills of reservists to facilitate the warfighting units’ ability to cope with civilian populations during combat operations. CA units are filling a critical role in Iraq by serving as the Army’s ‘public face’ to local leaders, tribal sheiks, and civil servants. Due to my background in political science and government, I was assigned to work out of the U.S. Embassy in Baghdad. I specialized in transatlantic security and intelligence policy while working on my M.A. degree at the University of Bath, England and wrote my thesis on intelligence coordination between European Union member states and the U.S. for UNC-Chapel Hill. This academic work on the difficulty of inter-agency cooperation was certainly an appropriate precursor to the very real challenges I saw first-hand in Baghdad.

Local PART 2

On a day-to-day basis I conducted diplomacy with Baghdad’s provincial and municipal governments, facilitated democracy building with Iraq’s political elite, assisted and monitored the conduct of the constitutional referendum and national elections, and supervised reconstruction efforts for Baghdad’s decrepit public services infrastructure. The policy competition and bureaucratic turf wars I witnessed among our government agencies within the Embassy underscored the complexity of the violence boiling just over the walls of the Green Zone and the need for bold and effective solutions to bring progress to war-torn Iraq.

I was chosen to be an inaugural member of the Baghdad Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRT), a multi-agency team brought together to encourage and facilitate the development of decentralized government in Iraq, and improve the much-needed cooperation between the primary US agencies involved with rebuilding Iraq. Modeled on the PRT initiative undertaken in Afghanistan after the fall of the Taliban, a PRT’s membership consists of elements from the military, the State Department, and the US Agency for International Development (USAID). The Army has assigned its Civil Affairs branch to take the lead on filling the military role on the PRT. My portfolio consisted, among other things, of daily contact with Governor Hussein Ali Al-Tahan, governor of the province of Baghdad, Iraq’s most populous and most turbulent province.

Governor Tahan and I did not get off on the right foot. The first time I met him, in Baghdad’s ‘city hall’, the Amanat, he asked me fairly pointedly- “So what are you going to promise me?” Tahan was one of the least diplomatic and unpredictable politicians of the fifty-odd Iraqi leaders I worked with regularly. A commanding general of the Badr Corps, the disciplined Shia militia group affiliated with the SCIRI party (Supreme Council for the Islamic Revolution in Iraq), Tahan had a leadership style that reflected his experience leading guerilla attacks against Saddam’s regime. Tahan watched the Badr Corps develop from a loose anti-Saddam fringe into a complex paramilitary organization through years of protection and sponsorship in Iran. I had him over for lunch at the Embassy complex (formerly Saddam’s Republican Palace) one afternoon and as we strolled through the garden, he pointed out a burn mark on the marble under the central dome of the palace. That was one of the rocket hits he scored during a Badr incursion he led in the late 1990’s. He shrugged and said “It was a great attack – too bad Saddam wasn’t home at the time…”

Local PART 3

Governor Tahan, chosen by the Provincial Council elected in January 2005 to be the chief executive of Baghdad, is one of many leaders in the new Iraq that embody the seismic political shift that Iraqi society is facing. History may reflect on many of the consequences of the U.S. decision to depose Saddam’s regime, but one of the most significant must be the reversal of the Sunni/Shia power relationship in Iraq, and its aftershocks across the entire Middle East. Several significant factors have coalesced to ensure Shiite dominance of Iraq in the foreseeable future.

Demographic trends in Iraq have seen the explosion of the mainly poor Shia population in the past thirty years. Many Sunnis still do not realize that they are now a true minority in a country that they have led for generations.

The January 2005 election cemented political control across Iraq for the Shia coalition of mainly religious-based, populist, and Iranian-sponsored parties. This election determined the make up of the national assembly, as well as each of the provincial councils. The Sunni boycott, and subsequent non-participation during the critical transition period last year was a strategic error that played directly into the hands of the Shia, who now rule the apparatus of state control, and dictate the provision of social services to the population. Moderates and independents also fared poorly at the polls; the Shia coalition received support from both the edicts of religious leaders, and the get-out-the-vote mobilization of Shiite militia groups – two powerful factors in Iraqi society.

For example, the Baghdad Provincial Council with which I worked was made up nearly completely of parties associated with the Shia coalition, and with 28 out of 51 seats held by just one of those parties, SCIRI. With a sizable minority population of nearly 35%, Baghdad Sunnis have no representation in their provincial government. Even if they fully commit to participation, Baghdad Sunnis will have a difficult time wresting political power from such an entrenched majority, who are determined to hold it at all costs.

National Sunni parties made some inroads by participating in the December 2005 elections for the National Assembly and have begun to agitate for another round of provincial elections, but the power of incumbency makes further success a daunting challenge.

Local PART 4

Another factor contributing to Shiite resurgence in Iraq is that it is supported by the political leadership in neighboring Iran, who are eager to capitalize on the removal of their longtime enemy Saddam to expand their influence across the Middle East and the Islamic world. It was clear to me through my relationship with Governor Tahan, and others now governing Baghdad, that these individuals have strong bonds- political, familial, and financial- to associates governing in Tehran, and often pursue policies that may prove favorable to their Iranian supporters.

Prior to the January 2005 election, most political officials in Baghdad were local leaders with little affiliation to major political parties. These leaders were selected by their communities to serve on councils and manage the efforts of the public service authorities. Most worked very closely with the many NGOs and Civil Affairs specialists that provided advice and support to these leaders, and were very receptive to the democracy training provided in their communities.

However, much of this cadre of locally-minded and politically independent leaders was swept from power in the January elections because they were not affiliated with the well-organized, nationally-based parties; or if they were, they could not negotiate a high enough position on that party’s list to earn a seat. The election was run as a single-district, closed party-list vote; voters had to choose one among the hundreds of parties listed on the ballot. Seats in the councils were allocated to the winning parties, and party bosses gave those seats to hard-core party loyalists. This new group of politicians is not beholden to any geographical constituencies; they serve at the pleasure of their party leadership.

Since these party bosses and their hard-core followers more often than not are closely connected to the Shia exile community recently arrived from Iran, the end result is that a fairly high degree of influence over even local political activity can be exercised in favor of Iranian interests.

Members of the Provincial Council negotiated loan packages with the government in Tehran, and many eagerly sought to increase Iranian business influence over Baghdad’s reconstruction contracts. Connections between these Iraqi Shiites and their Iranian neighbors are logical, natural and for the most part mutually beneficial, considering Iran and Iraq’s long and complex history.

Local PART 5

One of the more troubling aspects in Iran, the Middle East in general, and thus in a future Iraq, is that there is very little experience with political pluralism or with a ‘loyal opposition’. Governments largely dominated by a single faction, like the Shiite theocracy in Tehran, may claim to be responsive to the ‘democratic’ input of their citizens, but opposition parties are generally viewed as potential insurrections – threats to the regime – and thus must be dealt with harshly, or their activities strictly monitored.

With a very real insurgency being waged in Iraq, the Shia leadership I worked with proved very reluctant to make any type of outreach to political leaders outside of their party network. I watched many community leaders from the outskirts of Baghdad attempt to lobby the Provincial Council for improvements to their villages; unfortunately these villages are largely Sunni, and thus are suspected of harboring terrorists. The council kept these Sunni leaders at arm’s length – and often did not hide their contempt for them. Most decisions I saw made by the council directly favored the Shia communities of inner-city Baghdad.

Tellingly, in conversations with many Provincial Council members, they explained their vision for bringing security to Baghdad – which involved plain-clothes agents and citizen ‘informants’ – and which sounded eerily like the methods used by Saddam to manage (and brutalize) the Shiite population for so long. Many Shiites are more than willing to use their new-found political power to turn the tables and use the state security forces on their Sunni brethren.

As my relationship with Governor Tahan improved, I would more frequently be called (at odd hours of the night), to be made aware of significant security-related events that took place in Baghdad. Obviously, Tahan had more than altruistic reasons for feeding me information, and keeping open channels to the State Department and the commanding general of Multinational Division – Baghdad (both of whom I reported to) proved useful to him a number of times throughout my tour. There is a delicate dance between the U.S. Mission, the Shia political elite, and a Sunni community that is torn between insurgency and political marginalization.

Thus, an organization like the PRT often finds itself acting as a broker between various Iraqi factions, and serving to create more ‘political space’ between them. Each faction usually has a moderate element that seeks accommodation and an armed wing that seeks domination over, influence with, or revenge on other factions. Meanwhile, a foreign jihadist element wants to ensure that no accommodation can ever be reached, and a criminal element seeks to profit from the chaos. Such is politics in Iraq. Despite these challenges, progress is being made to help political engagement win out over armed struggle and to convince all factions that there is something to be gained in coming to the table.

The U.S. Mission in Iraq continues to evolve to more effectively deal with the massive challenges brought about by the military action in Iraq and the removal of the Saddam regime. However, it is clear that ultimately the future of Iraq will be determined more by the broader political factors and social forces currently at work in the Middle East neighborhood; not least of these the ancient feud between Sunni and Shia for the heart of the Islamic world and the prize of Mesopotamia.