HIT, Iraq
On a dusty road in rural western Iraq, a group from Company L, 3rd Battalion, 7th Marine Regiment exits armored vehicles and strides toward a small cluster of stone houses. Armed to the teeth and covered in Kevlar, they move toward their mission — dinner.
A local sheikh, Khalif Awad Farhan, greets the Marines with handshakes and hugs before leading them down a dirt path to his home. Mixed in with his greetings are his assurances of the group’s safety. "You’re my guests," the sheikh says while pointing to Iraqi police atop nearby houses. "If something happens to you, I would kill myself."
As the night goes on, Farhan and the Marines go through the motions of a typical meeting between sheiks and military leaders — what company commander Capt. Seth MacCutcheon will later summarize as "kissing and hugging between men, talk about nothing, food, talk about nothing and then the give-and-take portion will eventually start."
As Marines in the area shift focus from combating a fizzling insurgency to repairing the region’s crippled infrastructure, meetings like the one with Farhan on Wednesday are becoming more and more common. MacCutcheon said he attends at least six or seven a week with tribal leaders, city councils and various government officials. The five lieutenants working under him take almost as many.
They work through a translator, though some of the Americans speculate the Iraqis understand more English than they let on. They laugh at MacCutcheon’s jokes before they’re translated.
When the "give-and-take portion" of the evening starts, it’s after dinner on the sheikh’s lawn, smoking cigarettes and drinking chai.
"Two years ago, unless I had a tank parked out here I would not have done this," MacCutcheon says. Neither he nor his first sergeant are wearing armor or helmets. Instead, they work into friendly conversation with Farhan, several men from his family and a few local leaders who trickle in as the night progresses.
In the course of 2 ½ hours, the sheikh and his crew ask for a myriad of things — trash cans, the arrest of a "terrorist" who’s been spreading rumors about him, an interior design for the home of the sheik’s brother, and a doctor for an arthritic neighbor.
Farhan later brags his tribe was the first in Anbar to stand up to terrorists.
While managing to commit to nothing, MacCutcheon keeps the meeting friendly and presents his own list of requests.
He’d like Anbaris to vote during the upcoming provincial elections. During Iraq’s first elections in 2005, many of the Sunnis in the province refused to participate. He tells Farhan the boycott is why Sunnis are now underrepresented in the government.
"Anbar doesn’t vote," MacCutcheon explains. "So the decisions are made by Shia from the south and Kurds and all the groups that are not Anbari."
This year, MacCutcheon tells him, more than 600,000 Anbaris have registered to vote.
There’s also talk of installing water filtration systems, though there is some contention about whether or not local contractors should be the only ones allowed to work in the area. The meeting ends with more handshakes and hugs, followed by heartfelt invitations for visits from both sides.
Afterward, MacCutcheon puts the conversation into context.
"Everyone we talk to says they were the first to fight the terrorists, they were the first to stand up to the bad guys," MacCutcheon says in his office at Combat Outpost Hit. "They might be right. But they were bad guys themselves a year ago."
The tribal stand against the "bad guys" is part of the "tribal awakening" that took place in the region last spring. Various tribal leaders, fed up with the behavior of extremists, shifted their support from the insurgency to the coalition. Recruiting for Iraqi police skyrocketed and violence plummeted. The region shifted from coalition to Iraqi control Sept. 1.
MacCutcheon also said that a year ago, many of the sheik’s requests wouldn’t have seemed so far-fetched. The rumor-spreading "terrorist" he’d suggested Marines round up probably would have had his home raided, and the Marines would have shouldered the burden of constructing or paying for many of local projects that need doing.
"Two years ago, if he had said ‘We’ve got a bad guy,’ we would have jumped on that," MacCutcheon said. "If they had said ‘Do this project and we’ll keep the area safe,’ we’d have done that."
Now, he said, he’s trying to coax local leaders into using the Iraqi government to solve its problems. The Marines, he said, are there to "fill in the gaps" where government services can’t or won’t currently reach.
Despite the problems with infrastructure and local government, MacCutcheon is confident in the continued progress of the region. He said the Anbaris have managed to turn the region from one of the worst in Iraq to a relatively peaceful province where violence against coalition and Iraqi forces has become rare.
"I wouldn’t say we’ve won," he said. "But if America had to leave, could the Anbaris stand up and do what they had to do? I would say yes."