Mosul meets its new sheriff, who
faces a daunting job
David Rohde The New York Times Monday, April 14, 2003
MOSUL, Iraq With
hands on his hips and a blunt, sherifflike demeanor, Lieutenant Colonel Robert
Waltemeyer politely read the riot act to 30 religious, tribal and community
leaders.
One day after U.S. Special Operations soldiers moved into northern Iraq's
largest city, unknown gunmen were still firing on one another and on U.S.
forces.
"I came halfway around the world to protect your freedom," the
frustrated army colonel said Saturday night. "You are the elder statesmen
and wise men of this community and I need your help. We won the war and now
need to win the peace."
The audience, a cross-section of ethnic and religious leaders, listened
but said nothing. Later they suggested that the U.S. military itself could do
more to restore order.
As reinforcements from the army's 10th Mountain Division and the Marines
arrived in the city over the weekend, special operations soldiers continued the
struggle to stabilize Mosul, and they continued to receive a mixed reception. Some
residents waved at U.S. soldiers patrolling the city, while others made obscene
gestures or spat in their direction.
Residents complained that U.S. forces were too slow to enter the city
after Iraqi troops withdrew Thursday night, allowing looting of most government
buildings, colleges, hospitals and other institutions on Friday. Looting
subsided Saturday as Americans patrolled the city, they said, but clashes
between armed factions continued to send casualties to hospitals. Doctors said
that 25 to 30 people have died since Thursday night.
Mosul, a sprawling and diverse city of 1.7 million people, presents two
dangers to U.S. troops. It is the heartland of Sunni Arab nationalism and a
power base for Saddam Hussein, himself a Sunni Muslim. It is also a potential
ethnic tinderbox. The looting, which Arabs and Kurds blame on each other, could
spark a replay of the communal fighting that racked the city in 1959.
At the center of it all is Waltemeyer, 46, of the special forces, whose
predicament reflects that of many American commanders in Iraq. He has fewer
soldiers than his predecessors in the 1991 war, is surrounded by an often
hostile population and is expected to pacify and administer a city of dizzying
ethnic and political complexity.
From his base at the looted Mosul airport, Waltemeyer, a Baltimore
native with 20 years service in the military, is being asked to serve as
commander, mayor, prosecutor, police chief and public works director in one. Bald,
stocky and at times brusque, in public he seems to relish the role of new sheriff
in town.
On Friday, as looting spread, he was desperately trying to block
thousands of Kurdish fighters from entering Mosul. He feared that the sight of
Kurds pouring into the city could prompt Turkey, already agitated that Kurds
had taken the oil-rich city of Kirkuk, to invade northern Iraq.
In the end, he blocked the Kurds by standing in the middle of the road,
raising his M-16 rifle and threatening to shoot anyone who passed him, one
witness said.
At his first news conference Saturday, Waltemeyer gave a pep talk.
"Mosul has the promise to be a model community of a free democratic
Iraq," he said. "But it ain't there yet."
In private he conceded that the task and the cultural gap he faces is
staggering. Tensions between Arabs, 65 percent of the population, and Kurds,
who make up less than 20 percent, stretch back decades.
There are a half-dozen major Arab tribes around Mosul with their own
internal tensions. Kurdish factions are deeply divided between those who lived
in the American-protected zone in northern Iraq and those who were under
Saddam's rule.
"It's a different culture," Waltemeyer said in an interview. "For
30 years, they've been told what to do. Now they have a chance to say how to do
it."
A string of meetings with local leaders over the previous 24 hours was
part of an effort to give them that opportunity. At the airport's departure
lounge, Waltemeyer met 30 tribal elders, religious leaders and businessmen.
For more than an hour, he was peppered with anxious questions about
protecting gasoline supplies, electing a local council, re-establishing
policing in the city. "Tell me what you need and I'll start working on
it," he replied.
After the meeting, an aide produced a copy of the colonel's schedule and
asked the men to "sign up" for meetings. Sunday's would focus on
justice, Monday's on medicine and Tuesday's on public utilities. After a
fruitless effort to organize the group, the aide gave up.
There is progress though. In one day, Waltemeyer had set up a
neighborhood watch system, urged mosques to broadcast messages against looting
and persuaded former Iraqi police officers to help patrol the city.
But there were already hints of disillusion among Arabs. After Saturday
night's meeting, Fatala Hussein, a local engineer, complained that the colonel
appeared arrogant.
"He has beaten Saddam," he said, "not the Iraqi
people."