MIDDLE EASTERN NEWS

The recent killing of Iraqi civilians by private American security contractors reveals one of the biggest changes in modern US war-fighting –- its increased reliance on private companies. It also illustrates difficult questions about the legal standing of those workers that are just starting to be understood.

The nub of the problem: how to deal with civilian contractors who break the law in a seemingly lawless place. Legal tools to prosecute such wrongdoing are available, experts say. But the relevant US government agencies have been slow to use them.

"There is a basis for the US Department of Justice to conduct an investigation and bring charges under MEJA," says Kevin Lanigan, a New York lawyer and law professor who served as a US Army Reserve judge advocate in Bosnia, Afghanistan, and Iraq. MEJA is the Military Extraterritorial Jurisdiction Act of 2000, which authorizes the Justice Department to prosecute employees of US contractors and subcontractors who commit crimes on foreign soil. The Uniform Code of Military Justice, the legal system governing those in uniform, was amended by Congress last year to allow charges to be brought against civilian contractors, Mr. Lanigan also notes. But the Pentagon has yet to issue guidelines to military commanders on how to do this, according to Lanigan and others.

In recent congressional testimony, Scott Horton, an international lawyer who teaches at Columbia University in New York, explained the growth in reliance on military contractors. In World War II, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War, the share of the total force represented by civilian contract employees seldom exceeded 5 percent. That doubled during the Gulf War. But in the Iraq conflict, the ratio is nearly equal. "Before the ... 'surge,' for instance, the total community of contractors in Iraq was around 100,000, and the number of uniformed service personnel was around 125,000," Mr. Horton said. "This represents an extremely radical transformation in the force configuration."

Many contract workers provide services once handled in-house by the military, such as food service and freight transport. Some 20,000 to 30,000 perform security functions, according to a July Congressional Research Service report. Of the dozens of security companies holding contracts in Iraq, the largest and now most notorious is Blackwater USA. The secretive North Carolina-based company was founded in 1997 by former military special operations veterans. It has nine business units providing training at its main facility on 6,000 acres of private land as well as in other locations around the world. Among other things, the company helps countries develop national and global security policies and military transformation plans.

Blackwater reportedly has received more than $500 million in US government contracts, mostly in Iraq but also for other assignments. Its employees come from many countries, including Fiji and Bulgaria, both of which have lost Blackwater men in Iraq. It is known to hire "testosterone-filled and aggressive" men, says an active-duty Army officer now stationed in Baghdad's Green Zone. "The Iraqis hate them," the officer says, referring to Blackwater specifically.

From the start, the firm has had connections to high-ranking Republican officials. Its vice chairman is Cofer Black, State Department coordinator for counterterrorism during President Bush's first term. Blackwater founder and former Navy SEAL Erik Prince (PICTURED) has been a major donor to Republican committees and candidates. But those connections are unlikely to help in current circumstances, even if Blackwater is allowed to stay in Iraq.

"Blackwater and other security firms will not be able to function effectively if they must adhere strictly to the letter of Iraqi law," says Loren Thompson, military analyst at the Lexington Institute. "Iraq is in the midst of a brutal insurgency in which few of the players pay any attention to the law. Waiting for the police to show up isn't a viable option in today's Iraq."

Can Blackwater and other firms continue to operate in Iraq if their employees are subject to Iraqi law, as Iraqi officials want them to be? They possibly would face more restrictive rules of engagement and aggressive prosecution by the Iraqi government, says Dina Rasor, coauthor of the book "Betraying Our Troops: The Destructive Results of Privatizing War" and a longtime investigator of military spending. "Even though many of the Blackwater employees may be willing to work for an approved company, they may think twice about operating under laws that the Iraqi government can enforce. They may not want to face Iraqi jail."

Australia’s Chief of Army, Lieutenant General Peter Leahy, has taken a swipe at the US military's strategy at the outset of the Iraq war, expressing disbelief that it has taken so long for commanders to realise the merits of engaging with the local population and winning their trust.

Visiting a counter-insurgency centre for excellence at Taji, just outside Baghdad, General Leahy was briefed by a US Army colonel, Manuel Diemer, on the new US strategy of schooling all unit commanders in the importance of developing a deep understanding of the culture of the communities in which they are conducting operations.

Colonel Diemer said the strategy meant combat units were now living among the population, doing more foot patrols, talking and interacting with the population well before they undertook any offensive operations.

This contrasts with the previous US practice of sending in forces with overwhelming firepower into trouble spots and then returning home to the relative comforts and security of a military base after blasting their way out of, or into, trouble. The tactics have created huge resentment among ordinary Iraqis and helped fuel the insurgency. General Leahy expressed his strong support for the new strategy, but with an important, and thrice repeated, caveat. "I can't believe you guys weren't doing this two or three years ago," he said. Colonel Diemer concurred.

As he has travelled around the Middle East, General Leahy has emphasised to his troops how the nature of warfare has progressed from the Cold War principles of conventional warfare. Rather than pitched battles between large militaries, soldiers were now working within and for communities. "It's about protecting, supporting and persuading … and paving the way for reconstruction," he said.

Among soldiers anxious to be at the sharp end of a conflict such a message was not always warmly received, he said. "Some of them think I'm a mongrel because I won't let them shoot the shit out of them [the insurgents]," he told Colonel Diemer.

In the two southern Iraqi provinces where Australians have been operating, they have achieved considerable success in developing links with tribal leaders and consulting widely before they undertake operations or reconstruction projects. In Iraqi society, tribal affiliations are paramount, often trumping any loyalty to nation and even religious sect. For Australian units patrolling in Iraq's south, a meeting with each village leader is essential. Their efforts to reach out are usually met with traditional Iraqi hospitality, the slaughter of a goat and a long feast for the soldiers.

The centralized distribution of medicines in Iraq has meant hospitals have not been able to stock sufficient quantities, some doctors and analysts say. At present, every drug entering Iraq has to be tested by Kimadia, the government department responsible for quality control of medicines. All drugs go through the same procedure, regardless of their origin, or even if they have already been tested by the World Health Organization (WHO).

"The quality control [system] is overwhelmed, as Iraq is now importing more medicines than before. The centralization of the administration makes quality control very slow due to bureaucracy, deteriorated security and lack of staff," said Cedric Turlan, information officer for the Non-Governmental Organisations' Coordinating Committee in Iraq (NCCI). It can take weeks, and sometimes months, for drugs to be tested. A consequence of this has been an increase in the smuggling of untested drugs.

"The quality control laboratory was also looted and is being rehabilitated. It is currently working at a much reduced capacity," he said, adding that large-scale incidents led to shortages, and it took a long time before stocks could be replenished.

Security situation

Rashid Fae'ek, an epidemiological and public health analyst, however, rejects the idea that the main problem lies with the centralized distribution system. He points, instead, to the inability of the authorities to function properly because of the security situation. This has led to attacks on health centres, and staff abandoning their jobs or not being able to get to work. "The security situation has deteriorated in Iraq and the increase in the number of attacks against health professionals has prevented the public health system from working properly. Every decision should be taken by the Ministry of Health which is short of professionals," Fae'ek said.

"The health system in Iraq isn't neutral anymore. Different fighting factions are attacking clinics and hospitals or targeting health professionals and thereby delaying the whole process as most of the professionals abandon their work or flee the country to survive, leaving a serious gap countrywide," he added. The distribution system was not faster under Saddam Hussein's regime but the security situation, the lack of access to some areas, logistical problems and gaps in some stages of the decision-making process were not at today's level, he said.

Prices up

"There has been no insulin in Iraq for at least two months. Most private pharmacies are exploiting the situation by selling drugs with a 400 percent mark-up and poor people are forced to go without medicines," said Dr Khalid Mussawi, a physician at Yarmouk Hospital and a spokesperson for the National League of Medics (NLM). "There is certainly no health system worldwide that can cope with 185 incidents a day when each one means tens of people are going to hospitals," Turlan said. "Obviously the use of emergency rooms is very high, and the response plan is weak."

Ahmed Al-Khaffaji, 6, refused to leave his house for nearly a year after shrapnel from a mortar shell ripped through his left arm, rendering it useless.

Hussain Haider was only 5 when he stopped speaking after watching his father slowly bleed to death on the living room floor of the family's Sadr City home.

Iraqi psychiatrists worry about the long-term consequences of a generation that has been constantly exposed to explosions, gunfights, kidnappings and sectarian murders. "Some of these children are time bombs," said Said al-Hashimi, a psychiatrist who teaches at Mustansiriya Medical School.

Mental health professionals such as al-Hashimi say that there is a chronic shortage of trained psychiatrists and that schools are the front line for treating traumatized children. Ahmed's skin was badly scarred, and he suffered burns on both legs when a mortar round slammed into his family's south Baghdad home on Jan. 1, 2006.

His mother, Safia Hussain Ali, said that for nearly a year afterward, her son feared leaving the house and often refused to eat. Today, Ahmed attends school, but his behavior occasionally regresses, and he retreats from reality. "Sometimes he refuses to eat and just wants to watch TV or play video games," Ali said.

Haider al-Malaki, 40, a psychiatrist at the government-run Ibn Rushd Hospital, said he has treated children as young as 6 with post-traumatic stress disorder. He said he has also seen children with sleeping and eating disorders that can be traced to the violence.

"They have all experienced some kind of psychological trauma, whether they witnessed a murder or survived a kidnapping attempt," al-Malaki said. "When they witness violence, they're more likely to display aggressive and reckless behavior" later.

MORE VIOLENCE

Al-Hashimi said he is concerned Iraqi children could become the next generation of fighters and fuel violence for years to come. Because of what they are living through as youngsters, "they may think it's better to martyr themselves for religion or country," he said.

Al-Hashimi set up a workshop this year to help teachers and school officials deal with students suffering from war-related trauma. He urges educators to get kids to release their emotions through activities such as academic competitions and soccer games. "Schools in hot areas are still functioning," he said, referring to volatile Baghdad neighborhoods. "Unfortunately, many people don't know how to handle the children in this situation."

Attacks on or near schools have forced Iraqi teachers and other school staff to try to protect their students. "Children are very perceptive of teachers' moods and actions," said Hadoon Waleed, a psychology professor at Baghdad University. "It's very important that teachers are trained to handle their students during stressful situations."

Fawad Al-Kaisi, 59, headmaster at the Al-Hurriyah primary school in south Baghdad, said his staff has learned through experience. "When explosions go off in the area, the students become very nervous," Al-Kaisi said. "We try our best to create a positive environment to make them feel safe."

Like others among Iraq's professional elite, psychiatrists are scarce, in part because they have been targets of kidnappers and assassins. Al-Malaki, the psychiatrist at Ibn Rushd, survived two bullet wounds in his right arm from an assassination attempt in his clinic last year. He is among the few psychiatrists who have remained in Iraq and continued to work. The Iraqi Society of Psychiatrists estimates at least 140 of the country's 200 psychiatrists were killed or have fled the country in the past four years.

LITTLE HELP AVAILABLE

A shortage of psychiatric facilities further limits the availability of mental health care. Ibn Rushd is the only government-funded psychiatric hospital in Baghdad, a city of 6 million people.

For Hussain Haider, now 7, and other children, the need is urgent. He stopped speaking for months after his father was killed in a crossfire between fighters of the Mahdi Army, a Shiite militia group, and U.S. forces April 6, 2004. His mother, Thuraya Jabbar, said his grades have fallen, and he is awakened frequently by nightmares.