Faces of Iraq--An Iraqi Policeman

If I can do anything while I am here, I hope it is to put a human face on Iraq for people at home--to make Iraq more than news clips of bombings and body counts. To that end, I'm starting to write a series called "Faces of Iraq". I hope that Faces of Iraq will bring more context to the war, and to the lives of Iraqis, than the American media or our policiticians seem able to. Ironically, in many cases, including today's post, for their own safety, I can't actually show you the face of the person I'm writing about.

To start, me tell you about Ali, an Iraqi policeman we met at a police station in the Rusafa district of eastern Baghdad during a normal security assessment visit. I was speaking to his police chief, a colonel, when he brought Ali in to meet us. Ali, 24 and a veteran of the Iraqi army, was working as a patrol officer at this station when he suffered a devasting-injury in an insurgent attack. 2 months ago, this part of Baghdad was in one of the "hottest" areas of the city(north of downtown, along a bend in the river, and just adjacent to Medical City), and a stronghold of al-Qaeda in Iraq (AQI), Sunni militias and criminal gangs. The area is better now—not great—but, better. The police tell us that while the number of sectarian murders is dropping quickly, they are being replaced by what we would call organized crime and criminal gangs, with the attendant murder, racketeering, and intimidtion tactics that accompany them. Kidnapping is a favored tactic of these thugs--which is almost always followed by execution of the victims regardless of the payment of ransom. This state of affairs is viewed as progress, which is testimony to both how desparte the situation was, and how far it has to go in parts of the city.

Even still, the nearby al-Fadl area remains out of bounds for Iraqi security forces, especially the police, with Sunni gangs and militias running it like their own fiefdom. The al-Shorja market is also nearby. One of the city’s largest markets, al-Shorja runs the length of downtown Baghdad, almost parallel to the Tigris. It’s surrounded by blast walls to keep it safe, and one of the Iraqis who works in our office said that it is very busy, although mostly with men shopping alone without families. It’s when men start to bring their families that you will know that things are improving significantly.

Battle-scarred area home to Ali's police station in the Rusafa district of central Baghdad.

Four months ago, during a patrol with his partner, a series of two bombs exploded in a local cafe. The first explosion drew in people and security forces, like Ali, trying to help when the second exploded, killing many more. In all, 11 were killed, including Ali's partner and friend. Ali lost most of left arm, amputated above the elbow, a good deal of hearing, received glass in his eyes, and shrapnel over his body. Ali's colonel wanted us to meet him so that we could see the face of the men fighting for Iraq's future.

When we first met, Ali looked terribly frightened. I don't know if it was the stress of being called by his colonel in front of 4 Americans, but he had a vacant, shell shocked, alost haunted look on his face. He spoke to us about the bombing and what he has endured since. Because of the inadequacy of the medical care at the public hospital, his family moved him to a private clinic. To date, he has spent over 3 million Iraqi dinar on medical treatment, with no relief from the government in sight. Ali fought like the soldier he was trained to be, and wonders why he is not now eligible for care at the military hospital because he simply now wears a police uniform.

When we returned to the IZ following that first meeting, I went to the Ministry of Defense-run prosthetic clinic in our compound, and they agreed to see and treat Ali. Sunday morning, I met him at the IZ entry control point, and we went to the clinic. There, with the assistance of an American technical advisor, using state of the art equipment, they scanned his arm to fit him for a prosthesis, which, insha'allah, will be ready in about 2 weeks. They will continue to assist him with rehab and to be sure that it fits well and he knows how he can use it.

After 4 hours in the clinic, Ali left with smiles and thanks for the Americans, for reaching out to help, and not just promising, with no delivery. Still, he could not take with him a copy of the photos you see above--he simply couldn't be found in the red zone with pictures of himself with Americans. And when we got close to the gate out of the IZ, we only walked so far, so that he would not be seen by other Iraqis leaving with Americans. (The bad guys do watch the IZ entry control points, to find Iraqis who work with the Coalition to target as collaborators.)

In spite of that, the empty expression that we saw at our first meeting was replaced with a smile, helped along by our very affable interpreter William, who put him at ease immediately and kept him talking throughout his visit. Ali and his wife are expecting a baby soon, a welcome blessing after his first child died of an infection at four months. Soon, Ali will go before a medical review board to determine his eligibility to remain in the police service. He has asked me to write a letter to the Baghdad Provincial Director of Police to vouch for his dedication and service. I will be honored to do it.

I hear American politicians say that we should draw our forces out of Iraq, since it doesn't seem that Iraqis are willing to fight to secure the promise of the their own liberty.

I challenge any one of those same politicians to stand beside Ali, and so many more like him, and dare to say that again.