The Protection Business

Later, at a clinic in Muqdadiyah, Capt. Christopher Blaha, commander of Blackfoot Company, learns that some CLCs are thinking about quitting because they have not been paid. Aides of CLC leader Abu Abdel al Rahman inform him that their group consists of 71 CLCs and that Rahman has had to pay them less than $300 a month to make the money stretch. Blaha, a blunter personality than Batty, says the budget covers 40 people and that either some CLCs will have to be dropped or the larger contingent will have to accept permanently lower wages.

Eager to impart some good news, the aides report that some area residents have been coming back to live and that 400 families are poised to return. Buoyed by the news, Blaha says he will see what he can do about the extra number of CLCs. "Get their names and towns," he instructs. "Take their names and we will run them past the mukhtar." Turning from his hosts, Blaha explains that the Army must run candidates through a database to make sure they're not Al Qaeda or Qaeda supporters. "Not recently, anyway," he adds dryly.

In fact it is virtually impossible to be sure all CLC recruits have Qaeda-free resumes. Many have had some kind of connection with Al Qaeda in Iraq, even if it just a relative being a member of the terrorist group. At the CLC meeting, Blaha says he has heard there is a significant Qaeda presence in Babylon. "Definitely," responds Rahman. "The leaders have fake names, but if I go to Babylon I can tell who they are." Based on that identification, the Americans will have cause to detain the suspects or at least question them further. Blaha is happy for the CLCs' assistance, but warns again that there is no budget for an "infinite" number of CLCs.

"We cannot have CLCs and Iraqi police in houses for much longer," he says to the Arab interpreter. "That's not a way to secure an area, by occupying people's homes. And any more checkpoints will make it impossible to drive down the road. They can't keep getting more and more CLCs. They have to find other ways to live. We cannot hire all the men in the city to protect the city. They ought to be doing other things--doing different work, encouraging people to reopen shops. It cannot be that 'my whole town's economy is securing itself'."
Rahman, clearly a canny politician, says, "We want to make sure nothing happens. We don't want Al Qaeda to come back again. And we are the first target because we are protecting the country."

It is an argument that, for the moment, trumps all else. U.S. forces need the concerned local citizens now. But what happens with them in the future is a matter of considerable concern to the central government of Prime Minister Nuri al-Maliki. Baghdad is nervous about the prospect of thousands of Sunnis and Shias scattered around the country after the Americans leave, armed with modern weapons, obsessed with their own agendas and led by powerful, charismatic and ambitious men.

"[Rahman's] tribe, the Mahdawis, have a history of fighting for Al Qaeda," says one Army official who does not want his name used given the sensitivity of the issue. "But they have earned trust by not promoting violence." However, he continued, "They're setting themselves up for power in the future and they're looking for money and weapons. But for now they are out there getting shot at and they're pretty courageous in all this fighting." Indeed, there are clear signs that the insurgents are now targeting those known to be CLC members: several severed heads belonging to those working with American forces have been dumped around Diyala.