SF in Africa

[vsvo]

Conflicting Agendas

A gust whipped a billow of dust across the blistering hot range, and out of nowhere, Lt. Abdullah Issa Djerou whirled into action. After hanging back for weeks during the training, the short, stern-faced Chadian officer suddenly took command, barking orders to a squad of men rushing a target.

Brian cringed behind his sunglasses at Djerou's encroachment on the squad leader's authority. He pulled Djerou aside and advised him to let the squad leader do his job. Djerou is only a lieutenant but serves as the battalion's executive officer -- a mystery to the Americans until they discovered that he belongs to President Idriss Deby's small but powerful ethnic group, the Zagawa.

Grooming effective military leaders is as central to the U.S. mission in Chad as teaching infantry tactics, U.S. officials say. But the job is complicated because Chad's army -- like the rest of the government -- is run top-down by the feared Zagawa tribe.

Indeed, many of the U.S. goals in Chad appear to conflict with the Zagawa leaders' imperative to stay in power. Across the region, some of the governments the U.S. military is working with have embraced counterterrorism as a way to stifle legitimate dissent and Muslim groups, according to reports issued by the International Crisis Group.

The U.S.-trained battalion is commanded by Deby's nephew, Maj. Hardja Idriss, and is part of a regiment assigned to protect an authoritarian and increasingly unpopular president. Deby survived an attempted coup last year, and his grip on power remains fragile. "It just makes sense. They're the president's guard, and so in this region, with all the coups and stuff, you'd want them the best trained," said Capt. Jason, the team leader.

U.S. officials said the battalion is based in N'Djamena to safeguard the government and prevent its vehicles from falling into the hands of regional commanders. The unit has performed limited border patrols, but its stationing in the capital conflicts with the Pentagon's goal of pushing militaries into "ungoverned spaces" across the Sahara. Moreover, Idriss, the battalion commander, said the unit is not authorized to stop smugglers, although it confiscates hundreds of weapons, mainly from rebel militias.

Chad's leaders maintain that foreign-backed rebels constitute their main terrorist threat, as opposed to the transnational networks of anti-Western Islamic extremists. "When others use you to fight against your country, they are terrorists," Security Minister Abderahman Moussa said in an interview, wearing a silken gold caftan.

Moussa and Chadian army leaders say they fear that Sudan and other countries may be supporting as many as 4,000 anti-government rebels near Chad's volatile eastern border, where makeshift shelters teem with 200,000 Sudanese seeking refuge from government-backed militias and troops in Sudan's western Darfur region. "For a long time, they say they will take over Chad," said Col. Abakar Youssouf Mahamat Itmo, commander of the presidential guard and Deby's cousin.

Yet in subduing opponents, the government and its security forces commit serious human rights abuses, according to U.S. officials and human rights reports. "It's very important for us to remain very, very watchful over this issue of how the military and police respect civilians," said U.S. Ambassador Marc M. Wall. Embassy officials said the United States checks the names of troops it trains against news reports and U.S. government records.

Chadian officers admit the 25,000-member army is ill-disciplined, bloated and corrupt. "There are criminals in his tribe, in the military . . . and they do steal and rape people," said Maj. Soumaine Adam Ahmed, who took military classes in the United States. "The people say: 'Why don't you take a decision against them?' They are very unhappy about that."

'Cardboardian' Adversaries

It was the last day of training, and everyone seemed happy.

Jasper was smiling because the mobile target he and Brian had rigged up -- a tin sled mounted with Cardboardian adversaries and dragged by a rope from an SUV -- was working perfectly. The Chadian soldiers were happily blasting the target with machine guns and AK-47s, filling the desert air with the smell of gunpowder -- which made Jason especially happy, because he said he did not want to leave behind any U.S. bullets in Chad.

"They asked us every single day to leave the ammo, but we can't," Jason said. "All I need is a lot number to tie back to U.S. ammo" in the event it is misused.

Dashing down from the berm, the Chadian soldiers clambered into a Toyota truck, hanging on as it lurched and sped off across a desert path.

"Morale! Morale!" they chanted in French, ignoring Brian's warning to make a stealthy retreat.

U.S. and Chadian soldiers acknowledge that although the battalion made good progress in learning basic maneuvers, it remained unable to track international terrorists. The Pentagon plans to supply intelligence on targets and let the Chadians do the fighting, a strategy that has been tested in at least one successful operation.

Squatting under a mim tree, Sgt. Mohamed Nour Abakar, 28, sketched lines in sand moist from a desert rain, describing how he served as one of America's African fighters in a battle against terrorists in March 2004.

"I was between the border of Chad and Libya. . . . It was about 3 p.m.," he said, when his regiment received intelligence from a U.S. Navy surveillance plane on the location of 80 fighters from an Algerian group affiliated with al Qaeda. The fighters, from the Salafist Group for Call and Combat, were wanted for the kidnapping of 32 European tourists in southern Algeria in 2003.

At 6 p.m., about 150 Chadian soldiers first spotted the guerrillas, who were traveling in eight Toyota trucks mounted with heavy machine guns. "We found the Salafists hunting gazelle. When they saw us, they left the gazelle and began to shoot at us with machine guns," Abakar said.

Just then, Abakar recalled, the guerrilla commander hurled an insult -- and an appeal. "You monkeys! We are not your enemy, we are America's enemy," he yelled. "It was our mistake to fire at you, so why are you chasing us? We are all African!"

But the Chadians fought on. They pursued the guerrillas into the hills for two days, killing 28 of them and capturing seven, Abakar said. The Chadians lost 20 men, and Abakar was shot in the chest. "I was about to give up and be a civilian," he said, "but I found out the Americans were coming with new training, so I joined again."

At a closing celebration, the Chadians invited the Americans to a feast of goat stuffed with couscous and washed down with local beer. In a ceremony that followed, Abakar goose-stepped forward, clicked the heels of boots held together with staples, and swirled up his arm in salute. Jasper returned an easy salute.

But it wasn't goodbye: Next month, at an old French commando school north of N'Djamena, they'll be training together again.