SETTING UP MOSUL FOR AN ELECTION
U.S. commander wins over skeptics, and now the Iraqi city prepares for its first postwar vote.
Reportaje de Paul Watson, en “Los Angeles Times” del 04.05.2003
MOSUL, Iraq -- Maj. Gen. David
Petraeus was fresh from battling north through much of Iraq 11 days ago when he
walked straight into the minefield of Iraqi politics.
His soldiers from the 101st Airborne Division took control of Mosul just days
after U.S. Army Special Forces and Marines killed at least 12 Iraqi civilians
during two days of unrest in the city center, apparently sparked by a local
power struggle.
Petraeus then turned a city on the verge of a bloodbath into one preparing for
an election on Monday, the first postwar vote of its kind in a major Iraqi city.
He did it by convincing local leaders who have never known democracy that it's
better to be on the inside talking, and compromising, than outside shouting and
throwing rocks.
The plan calls for a convention of 217 delegates, representing various ethnic,
religious, tribal and political groups, to choose a 23-member city council to
govern Mosul until Iraq has its first free elections, Petraeus said.
The city council will elect a mayor from among four candidates cleared by the
U.S. military after background checks confirm they don't have blood on their
hands from service in Saddam Hussein's regime.
"There's reaching out across the table," Petraeus said before one of many
meetings with contenders for power last week. "And it's not just people who cut
a deal in a back room. It's self-correcting."
Without a break, Petraeus and his troops have gone from fighting a war to the
"nation building" that the U.S. military normally loathes. Soldiers trained to
hit the enemy hard and fast from above are suddenly mediating heated Iraqi
political disputes in the looted remains of the Mosul governor's building.
Petraeus, 50, seems to relish the challenge. The tough-as-nails soldier is also
cerebral, a graduate of the U.S. Military Academy at West Point who earned a PhD
in international relations from Princeton University.
So far, the combination has proved a charm in Mosul, a 6,000-year-old city that
has a centuries-old tradition of producing top military officers.
Each day since he took charge of one of Iraq's most complex, and potentially
dangerous, cities, Petraeus has sat and mediated with local politicians, tribal
chiefs, religious leaders and even some former members of Hussein's toppled
regime.
He has won over skeptics, including Arab nationalists who insisted that they
would boycott what they saw as a U.S. plot to install a puppet administration.
The followers of the late Egyptian President Gamal Abdel Nasser, known as
Nasserites, now say they will send delegates to Monday's vote.
Petraeus immediately calmed tensions in Mosul by ordering soldiers to be more
low-key than the Marines, who antagonized many in the city by flying large
American flags from their vehicles. Then he called Mosul's main political rivals
together and persuaded them to begin getting along.
"We are trying to shape something close to real democracy," said Ayad Hamdany,
who leads one of three main factions that were locked in a dangerous power
struggle when the 101st Airborne arrived. He refers to Petraeus with respect as
"the American leader."
"For history, I should mention that the American leader made a great effort to
reach our goal," Hamdany said. "He was very patient and tolerated our
differences."
Petraeus has experience dealing with lethal political systems. He helped prepare
Haiti and Bosnia-Herzegovina for elections after U.S.-led troops restored peace.
He is now in charge of one of Iraq's most difficult cities, where almost
everything is disputed, even the size of the population. Mosul is officially
Iraq's third-largest city, but it claims to be the second-largest, and has
anywhere from 2 million to 4 million people.
The majority is Arab, from the Sunni Muslim minority that dominated Iraq under
Hussein. Mosul also has large minorities of Kurds, Christian Assyrians and
ethnic Turks.
Two main Kurdish factions -- the Democratic Party of Kurdistan and the rival
Patriotic Union of Kurdistan -- wield significant power through their Arab
proxies.
On their own, few Arab leaders can match the money and connections the Kurdish
factions built up during 12 years of self-rule after Hussein's defeat in the
1991 Persian Gulf War. But many among Mosul's Arab majority resent the Kurdish
factions, which they blame for widespread looting after Hussein's forces
abandoned the city.
The Kurds' history of infighting is also seen as a long-term liability. They
fought a four-year civil war, and though they have bottled up their animosities
under U.S. pressure, they also have been stockpiling heavy weapons seized from
the Iraqi army.
If either Kurdish side feels cheated, there is a risk that they might fight
again, this time drawing Arab allies into a broader conflict.
"All I will say is I think we know what we're dealing with here," Petraeus said,
confirming that the Kurdish factions "are playing a prominent role behind the
scenes.
"But let's remember the history of how we got where we are, which was the
Kurdish factions helped the U.S. topple Saddam in this region," the general
added.
To run Mosul, KDP leader Massoud Barzani has supported Mishaan Juburi, who is
widely blamed for provoking the April 15 riot. PUK chief Jalal Talabani has
backed Hamdany, a former Iraqi army lieutenant who defected during the Iran-Iraq
war in 1982.
Hamdany is a member of Ahmad Chalabi's Iraqi National Congress, the U.S.-funded
opposition group that has drawn sharp criticism because of its ties to the
Pentagon. About 300 soldiers in the INC's Free Iraqi Forces -- which the U.S.
trained, armed and flew into Iraq with Chalabi -- are operating in Mosul, adding
another militia to an already volatile mix.
Petraeus got Juburi and Hamdany to withdraw claims that they should run the
city, and then an expanded committee of about seven people agreed to the plan
for indirect elections, Hamdany said.
The mayor must be qualified for high office, be "as independent as possible" and
agree not to seek reelection "because we don't want someone to use his position
to set himself up for running later on," Petraeus said.
The two front-runners are Dr. Hudaifa Saeed Aldeawachy, a respected pathologist
who comes from a prominent Mosul family, and former army Maj. Gen. Ghanim
Albassow, who was an enthusiastic member of Hussein's ousted Baath Party. Juburi
strongly supports Albassow; Aldeawachy's base of support is less clear.
Retired police Maj. Gen. Tarik Almuteb, another Baath Party leader, has support
from Arab sheiks outside Mosul, while engineer Zekeria Saddiq is thought to be
popular among former city officials.
One of the holdouts that Petraeus coaxed into supporting Monday's vote is Isam
Mahmood, whose resume is the kind that commands respect in Mosul's streets: He
fought in four wars, became a top general and ended his career under torture in
jail for plotting to overthrow Hussein.
To many here, the risks that Mahmood took in defying Hussein, and his ruthless
security apparatus, make the former lieutenant general look like a leader in a
crowd of power-hungry opportunists. Yet for days, Mahmood kept a suspicious
distance from Petraeus, complaining that the American was meeting with Hussein
loyalists.
Mahmood and his Nasserite supporters changed their minds Wednesday, leaving
Petraeus with one less potential enemy to worry about -- at least for the
moment.
Mahmood thinks he has earned the right to lead in postwar Iraq. But he didn't
make it onto the short list of four mayoral candidates approved in meetings with
Petraeus.
The success of Petraeus' experiment in Iraqi democracy may depend on whether
Mahmood, and others like him, take political defeat graciously.
"We are the real opposition because I, and my group, said no to Saddam Hussein
while the others kissed his shoulders," Mahmood said.