After Leveling City, U.S. Tries to Build Trust
In Fallouja, Marines are on a 'hearts and minds'
campaign to woo
residents and help keep rebels from returning.
By Tony Perry
Times Staff Writer
January 7, 2005
FALLOUJA, Iraq — As he navigated his Humvee through rubble-strewn
streets, Lance Cpl. Sunshine Yubeta articulated a question key to the
Marines' mission here.
"I wonder," said the 23-year-old from Madras, Ore., nodding toward
several sullen-looking men on a corner, "if they hate us or like us."
It's a quandary at the heart of U.S. policy in this city, which was
once an insurgent stronghold. Having routed the guerrillas late last
year in combat that left much of Fallouja in ruins, the U.S. military
needs the cooperation of residents who fled the fighting and are now
returning.
The U.S. knows that, to keep the insurgents from
reestablishing a clandestine headquarters here, it will need
information from residents if fighters try to move back.
In
addition, U.S. officials hope for at least a modicum of participation
from Fallouja in the Jan. 30 national election, to help bolster the
credibility of the fledgling Iraqi government.
At five
heavily guarded entry points to the city, military interrogators are
selectively asking returning residents whether they have heard of the
upcoming election and, if so, which, if any, candidates they support.
The goal, officials say, is not to influence how Iraqis vote but to
gauge how well residents of politically isolated Fallouja understand
the changes that have occurred in their country since Saddam Hussein's
regime was toppled.
The Americans have set up relief centers
in the city to provide food and water to residents and toys to
children. By some estimates, the U.S. has earmarked $150 million to
rebuild the city. The Iraqi government is preparing a compensation
program.
In addition, Marines patrol the littered streets,
talking to residents, asking for information about insurgents and
handing out water, juice, cigarettes and snacks, some of which have
been sent to the troops by their families in the U.S.
Posters offer rewards for the capture of insurgent leaders, although
apparently there have been few takers.
Outside the Humanitarian Assistance center tents, Iraqis stand for
hours to receive water and food packets stamped with a U.S. flag and
the words "A Food Gift From the People of the United States of
America." Hands are marked to prevent a return for seconds. Iraqis
gather here not only for aid but for a chance to work in the assistance
program, a job that pays about $8 a day.
One center is just blocks from the site where a mob killed four private
U.S. contractors in March.
Many of those in line Thursday were hungry, cold, and appeared dazed by
the events that had turned their city, which was untouched in the
initial U.S.-led invasion in 2003, into a battlefield.
"I
didn't do anything wrong, but the Americans destroyed my house," said
Sami Fafaj, 49, holding two bottles of water and two food packets.
"I want America to rebuild my house and give me money for what they
have done," said Fayed Abdullah, 37, collecting food for his seven
children.
"The Americans are rich and strong, but sometimes I wish they had never
come to Iraq."
Although public expressions of anger directed at the Americans seem
rare, many Falloujans appear to feel they have been wronged by U.S.
forces.
"Fallouja did something bad and God sent the terrorists
to punish us," said Mehdea Salah Jassam, a neighborhood sheik. "Then he
sent the Americans to punish us some more."
Although older residents may seem fatalistic, the younger ones show
signs of impatience.
"We are not free to move in our own city," said Maged Haraj, 20. "We
want to be free."
The young Marines say they are confident that residents will come to
accept that the destruction was necessary to rid Fallouja of the
insurgents, whom the locals called mujahedin.
"Any time we can
interact with these people is good," said Sgt. James Regan, 29, of San
Antonio. "They can see us for what we are. I asked one of them, 'When
was the last time the mujahedin gave you water or food?' Never."
As the patrol vehicles prowled the streets, children ran after the
Humvees begging for anything available. Adults asked for rice, water or
cigarettes.
Some told horror stories of months living under insurgent control.
"I have a nephew that they beheaded," said truck driver Adnan Mohammed,
flanked by two children. "You are our destiny."
But other Iraqi men remained on the curb, offering no smiles and
returning no waves. One gestured in disdain. Some refused to ask for
handouts but instead sent children to bring back items, particularly
cigarettes.
For the Marines of Lima Company of the 3rd
Battalion, 1st Regiment, these are the same streets where they engaged
insurgents in block-by-block combat. Nine colleagues were killed.
"We lost a good Marine right over there," Regan said. "He had just
three weeks to go before he would have left Iraq."
On a patrol this week, the Marines checked houses where they had found
large caches of weaponry during the November assault. Some had
collapsed; others had enormous holes in the roofs or walls.
"It's kind of bad we destroyed everything, but at least we gave them a
chance for a new start," said Navy corpsman Derrick Anthony, 21, of
Chicago.
Those who have returned are living a meager
existence. In this western sector of the city only a handful of food
stalls have reopened, although a black market is said to exist. A
dusk-to-dawn curfew has been imposed.
But the urge to return is powerful, even when home is barely habitable.
"I'm happy now that I can come back to my house," said a 15-year-old
boy, adding that life with the insurgents was not that bad. "We left
them alone and they left us alone."
In many ways, the "hearts
and minds" tactics are straight from the Marine Corps' "Small Wars
Manual," written in the late 1930s to preserve information about
successful campaigns against insurgents in South America and elsewhere.
In preparation for Iraq, officers were ordered to reread the
manual, particularly the section on insurgencies. One rule it discusses
is maintaining moral superiority in the minds of the populace by
stressing that the fighting was the insurgents' fault. Amid the
destruction here, it is not an easy rule to follow.
"It's
hard to look these people in the eye after blowing everything up," said
Staff Sgt. Travis McKinney, 31, of Vallejo, Calif. "These people were
just victims."
