BAGHDAD, Iraq – First, American soldiers scoured the home for weapons as four veiled Iraqi women cowered on a dusty rug. Then a platoon sergeant politely wiped his muddy boots, came in and talked to the family about the violence suffocating their city.
Staff Sgt. Michael James of the Army’s 2nd Battalion, 3rd Infantry Regiment came with his platoon on a search-and-seizure mission. But he was careful to follow up with expressions of respect and concern.
“Tell them, ‘Thank you,’ for their hospitality,” James asked his translator.
U.S. troops are working hard to strike a tricky balance between force and friendship in the opening days of a push to bring order to Iraq’s capital.
They storm into neighborhoods with tons of U.S. armor, kicking through doors. They later return quietly on foot offering stickers and soccer balls decorated with doves and olive branches. During so-called “walk and talks,” they meet Iraqis face to face to assure them peace is coming – although past promises have turned out to be mirages.
“This mission is as much about information operations as it is anything else,” said Sgt. 1st Class Jeff Olsen, 32, of Moab, Utah, who has spent hours designing pamphlets and stickers for Iraqis. “A vital part of it is to let them know why we’re there.”
Soldiers describe the approach as the “Mosul Model” – named for the northern Iraqi city where U.S. forces became a kind of philanthropic foundation involved in everything from rebuilding political councils to fixing playgrounds. One of its pioneers three years ago, Gen. David Petraeus, is now the commander of all U.S. forces in Iraq.
“Winning the hearts and minds – that’s what it’s all about,” said James, 32, of Chillicothe, Mo.
But swaying sentiments and calming anger is not always as simple as handing out gifts.
Some children have seen troops burst into their homes and haul away their fathers and brothers. In Ramadi, about 70 miles west of Baghdad, soldiers have been pelted with the same candy they tossed out as presents.
In its first days, Baghdad’s security operation has focused on the Shaab district, a mostly Shiite section of northeast Baghdad, where soldiers have received mix greetings. Some Iraqis have opened their doors as troops approach, offering bread, water and cigarettes. Others remain guarded and reluctant to cooperate.
Faris Shabil, a 33-year-old Baghdad resident, told soldiers he has trouble believing that Americans can keep his family safe. Often days and weeks pass without any sign of a military patrol. He asked troops to tell their commanders that Iraqis must secure their own neighborhoods if Americans can’t do it.
“This is my neighborhood. It’s not your neighborhood. It’s my priority to keep this neighborhood safe, not yours,” Shabil told troops through a translator.
The sentiments are widely shared. Many in Shaab have put faith in Shiite militias – such as anti-American cleric Muqtada al-Sadr’s Mahdi Army – to ward off Sunni gunmen roaming their neighborhoods, military officials said.
In one home, 1st Lt. Ryan Harbick drank a Pepsi and listened to complaints about Baghdad’s sewage system, electricity shortages and shortened hours at a nearby schoolhouse. Electricity was limited to an hour a day, an Iraqi man said, and his children cannot study in the dark.
As for the violence? Not here, the man said. Militia members left days ago when U.S. operations began in neighborhoods farther north and had not returned.
Harbick, 25, of Fresno, Calif., finished his soda and wondered if the information was trustworthy.
“Some of these people want us here. They’re pretty accommodating. But I’m sure they all wear two faces,” he said.
Military operations in Shaab, next to Baghdad’s volatile Sadr City, have continued for days. Searches have focused on small pockets of Sunni-run shops and street after street of Shiite homes.
U.S. and Iraqi operations also have cleared auto shops thought to be used to build car bombs. Resistance has been limited, with gunfire ringing out but apparently directed at no one. So far, no U.S. units have entered the boundaries of the Sadr City’s slums, but they have moved closer daily.
Sgt. William Carroll, 24, of Oak Harbor, Wis., said he expected more violence as U.S. units enter areas that have rarely – if ever – been searched, including Sadr City.
He lit a cigarette and smiled as he knelt on a street corner to watch for gunmen on the rooftops. “Look at us. We’re like a circus out here.”
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