Iraq's thin (and blurred) blue line
What an increasingly angry and combative Iraqi police force is up against.
By David Enders
Photo: AFP
March 9, 2005
The bombing in Hilla last week that killed more people than any other insurgent attack in Iraq so far underscores what the police and army are up against. The bomber somehow managed to slip the security guards and get inside government-owned compound where new police and army recruits were waiting to take physicals, which led the police to suspect their own. "The real problem is those officers who let the bomber get inside," said Col. Adnan Al-Jabouri, a ministry of interior spokesman.
Jabouri's office is full of Photoshopped posters promoting the police as a force for good in the "new Iraq." My personal favorite is the burly officer carrying two children, one under each arm, away from a carbombing, the flames rising in the background. But I've come to Jabouri's office to ask about something the police would prefer to sweep under the rug: that the same torture methods they employed before the fall of Saddam Hussein continue unchecked.
"We can't let you write about that," Jabouri replies.
I first met Jabouri more than a year ago, and since then have learned how to deal with him. Hiba (the translator I work with) has become used to these moments, and more often than not we manage to work it out by playing the flattery card.
"Every police force in the world has these problems. I want to write about how the Iraqi police force is doing good by getting rid of the officers in its ranks that are dishonest and use torture."
Grudgingly, Col. Adnan refers me upstairs to the Internal Affairs department. IA is on the 10th floor, and Shakar Odai, the head of the department, has a sweeping view of north Baghdad — the football stadium, the refugee camp on the ministry grounds, the symphony hall that looks, strangely enough, rather like a skateboard ramp; and, best of all, the Martyr's Monument, a big split dome that is one of the most impressive pieces of public architecture I've ever seen. It's the Iraqi equivalent of the Vietnam Memorial -- so it's good that the US stopped using it as a military base, although it was quite a site a while back when there were humvees parked in front of the wall containing the names of the dead. I remark on the view, trying to locate the house I used to live in. From here Baghdad looks like a model railroad city, almost peaceful. "It's nice," he says. "Except when the bombs go off."
"More than 98" percent of the police officers (a force known alike for its use of torture and its widespread corruption) returned to work after the war, he said, and added that the police force has been greatly expanded as well. Some of the officers definitely sympathize with the resistance, he says. As he speaks, a bomb goes off outside, rattling the windows. Odai doesn't even turn around to look. "That happens sometimes fifteen times a day," he sighs before continuing. "Before the war, we had six months to do background checks on any police officer we hired," he said. "After the war, the Americans just began appointing officers."
Before he refers me to the seventh floor, where the MOI's human rights department is located, he offers me a piece of wardrobe advice, specifically in regard to the power-blue Oxford I'm wearing, the same color the police wear. "You should change your shirt. Someone might try to assassinate you."
Down on the seventh floor, we find a group of men in the human rights office having tea. There is no computer in the office and the lawyers and investigators complain the ministry has not provided them with cars. Human rights complaints, they say, ranging from wrongful arrest to police involvement with crime to torture, have resulted in 10 dismissals so far. "Police are not coming to us with information," the head of the office says, declining to use his name. He adds that they also rely on civilians to bring them information. "We are here, but no one comes to see us," he says.
Hiba and I laugh about that one as we make our way out of the ministry, which is housed in a nearly impregnable compound. Outside the fence, dozens of Iraqis vie for an audience with various officials. Most are turned away.
We make our way across town to the Ministry of Human rights, hoping to find out more. "There is torture going on, even in prisons run by the Ministry of Interior," says Saad Sultan, one of the top lawyers at the ministry. "We are not allowed to monitor the interrogations. It's the way it was before the war.
"The training courses [for police] are brief. They only train them for a few days because of the security situation," Sultan said. "They replaced human rights training with self-defense."
The US military, as well as Defense Department contractors, are responsible for much of the training. Nonetheless, Sultan shoots for a silver lining. "But at least now we have laws forbidding torture," he says. "I think it is an individual problem, and not the orders of the government."
To be fair, consider for a moment what the police are up against. The conflict has become a personal one for them — they lost at least 1300 officers to insurgent attacks in 2004 and will likely lose more this year. Rarely do I have an audience with any officer who doesn't urge me to write about "the way the terrorists are cutting the heads off police officers."
A visit to any police station finds an increasingly angry and combative force. At the Amariyah station, which deals with the most serious crimes in Baghdad, police complain that the US military takes some of their top suspects out of their custody and occasionally releases them. A MOI source told me some US military units do indeed to this in hopes release will lead them to bigger figures within the resistance. But it is an extremely disappointing practice for police.
"We have no authority," one of the officers at the Amariyah station says before hanging up, unwilling to speak any longer. The US military has just picked up Sabah Al-Baldawi from Iraqi custody, a man the police have been following for a long time. "This happens all the time."
What do you think?
David Enders is a 24-year-old freelance journalist who has spent more than a year reporting from Iraq since the end of the invasion. His first book, Baghdad Bulletin: Dispatches on the American Occupation, will be released by the University of Michigan Press in April.
http://www.motherjones.com/news/update/2005/03/baghdad_journal12_police.html
This country has been liberated, I dont think so, America and the coalition does what it wants, America controls Iraq. Shame Shame Shame
What an increasingly angry and combative Iraqi police force is up against.
By David Enders
Photo: AFP
March 9, 2005
The bombing in Hilla last week that killed more people than any other insurgent attack in Iraq so far underscores what the police and army are up against. The bomber somehow managed to slip the security guards and get inside government-owned compound where new police and army recruits were waiting to take physicals, which led the police to suspect their own. "The real problem is those officers who let the bomber get inside," said Col. Adnan Al-Jabouri, a ministry of interior spokesman.
Jabouri's office is full of Photoshopped posters promoting the police as a force for good in the "new Iraq." My personal favorite is the burly officer carrying two children, one under each arm, away from a carbombing, the flames rising in the background. But I've come to Jabouri's office to ask about something the police would prefer to sweep under the rug: that the same torture methods they employed before the fall of Saddam Hussein continue unchecked.
"We can't let you write about that," Jabouri replies.
I first met Jabouri more than a year ago, and since then have learned how to deal with him. Hiba (the translator I work with) has become used to these moments, and more often than not we manage to work it out by playing the flattery card.
"Every police force in the world has these problems. I want to write about how the Iraqi police force is doing good by getting rid of the officers in its ranks that are dishonest and use torture."
Grudgingly, Col. Adnan refers me upstairs to the Internal Affairs department. IA is on the 10th floor, and Shakar Odai, the head of the department, has a sweeping view of north Baghdad — the football stadium, the refugee camp on the ministry grounds, the symphony hall that looks, strangely enough, rather like a skateboard ramp; and, best of all, the Martyr's Monument, a big split dome that is one of the most impressive pieces of public architecture I've ever seen. It's the Iraqi equivalent of the Vietnam Memorial -- so it's good that the US stopped using it as a military base, although it was quite a site a while back when there were humvees parked in front of the wall containing the names of the dead. I remark on the view, trying to locate the house I used to live in. From here Baghdad looks like a model railroad city, almost peaceful. "It's nice," he says. "Except when the bombs go off."
"More than 98" percent of the police officers (a force known alike for its use of torture and its widespread corruption) returned to work after the war, he said, and added that the police force has been greatly expanded as well. Some of the officers definitely sympathize with the resistance, he says. As he speaks, a bomb goes off outside, rattling the windows. Odai doesn't even turn around to look. "That happens sometimes fifteen times a day," he sighs before continuing. "Before the war, we had six months to do background checks on any police officer we hired," he said. "After the war, the Americans just began appointing officers."
Before he refers me to the seventh floor, where the MOI's human rights department is located, he offers me a piece of wardrobe advice, specifically in regard to the power-blue Oxford I'm wearing, the same color the police wear. "You should change your shirt. Someone might try to assassinate you."
Down on the seventh floor, we find a group of men in the human rights office having tea. There is no computer in the office and the lawyers and investigators complain the ministry has not provided them with cars. Human rights complaints, they say, ranging from wrongful arrest to police involvement with crime to torture, have resulted in 10 dismissals so far. "Police are not coming to us with information," the head of the office says, declining to use his name. He adds that they also rely on civilians to bring them information. "We are here, but no one comes to see us," he says.
Hiba and I laugh about that one as we make our way out of the ministry, which is housed in a nearly impregnable compound. Outside the fence, dozens of Iraqis vie for an audience with various officials. Most are turned away.
We make our way across town to the Ministry of Human rights, hoping to find out more. "There is torture going on, even in prisons run by the Ministry of Interior," says Saad Sultan, one of the top lawyers at the ministry. "We are not allowed to monitor the interrogations. It's the way it was before the war.
"The training courses [for police] are brief. They only train them for a few days because of the security situation," Sultan said. "They replaced human rights training with self-defense."
The US military, as well as Defense Department contractors, are responsible for much of the training. Nonetheless, Sultan shoots for a silver lining. "But at least now we have laws forbidding torture," he says. "I think it is an individual problem, and not the orders of the government."
To be fair, consider for a moment what the police are up against. The conflict has become a personal one for them — they lost at least 1300 officers to insurgent attacks in 2004 and will likely lose more this year. Rarely do I have an audience with any officer who doesn't urge me to write about "the way the terrorists are cutting the heads off police officers."
A visit to any police station finds an increasingly angry and combative force. At the Amariyah station, which deals with the most serious crimes in Baghdad, police complain that the US military takes some of their top suspects out of their custody and occasionally releases them. A MOI source told me some US military units do indeed to this in hopes release will lead them to bigger figures within the resistance. But it is an extremely disappointing practice for police.
"We have no authority," one of the officers at the Amariyah station says before hanging up, unwilling to speak any longer. The US military has just picked up Sabah Al-Baldawi from Iraqi custody, a man the police have been following for a long time. "This happens all the time."
What do you think?
David Enders is a 24-year-old freelance journalist who has spent more than a year reporting from Iraq since the end of the invasion. His first book, Baghdad Bulletin: Dispatches on the American Occupation, will be released by the University of Michigan Press in April.
http://www.motherjones.com/news/update/2005/03/baghdad_journal12_police.html
This country has been liberated, I dont think so, America and the coalition does what it wants, America controls Iraq. Shame Shame Shame
posted by Kangaroo Brisbane Australia at 5:31 PM
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