The New Defenders of Baghdad

With a war against ISIS looming, Baghdad's counterterror cops are desperate for new blood—and some their recent recruits have never even fired a gun

Author: Jeff Neumann

BAGHDAD—Tiny shards of human bone were still stuck in the lamppost as General Malik al-Maliki pulled up to the crime scene in his champagne-colored Land Cruiser, flanked by a battalion of heavily armed soldiers.

Remnants of a suicide bomber remain lodged in a lamppost at a Baghdad checkpoint.

Vocativ/Jeff Neumann

Hours before, a suicide bomber had blown himself up at a checkpoint near a Shiite shrine in the northeastern part of the city. And now Maliki—the commander of Iraq’s Eighth Brigade of Federal Police, an elite counterterrorism unit—was inspecting the barricades.
The bomb had killed two of Maliki’s men, as well as four civilians, and splattered blood on a nearby portrait of Imam Hussein, a revered figure among Shiite Muslims. “The terrorist was not Iraqi,” the general said, surveying the scene through his black Ray-Bans. “We believe he was from Afghanistan,” he added, though nothing but the bomber’s brown eyes could be distinguished from the gruesome photos taken after the blast.
It wasn’t the last time Maliki’s men would come under attack that day. Later, militants fired mortars at his heavily guarded base, and car bombs struck a market in eastern Baghdad, killing several people.

A blood-splattered portrait of Imam Hussein, one of Shiite Islam's most revered figures.

Vocativ/Jeff Neumann


 

Ever since the U.S. invaded Iraq in 2003, terror attacks have plagued the Iraqi capital. With ebbs and flows, they’ve continued, lasting well after the American withdrawal in 2011. Now, however, every blast seems even more ominous, as militants loyal to the Islamic State—a jihadi group formerly known as ISIS—have taken over parts of northern and western Iraq. Many say they’re also responsible for a spate of bombings and mortar attacks across the capital and its outskirts.
In downtown Baghdad, not far from Iraq’s National Theater, there’s a large LED screen that boldly proclaims “They Will Not Enter,” a reference to ISIS’ stated goal of sacking the Iraqi capital. But walk through the city’s battle-scarred streets and it’s clear that the police are stretched thin. So thin, in fact, that they’re accepting a bevy of volunteers, some of whom have never even fired a weapon.

First day of a two-week training course for new Iraqi police recruits. They are eager, but can they really protect Baghdad?

Vocativ/Jeff Neumann

At brigade headquarters, a batch of Maliki’s new recruits, some wearing dirty mechanics’ coveralls, stood in formation last week to begin a 14-day training course. If these men—eager and brave as they may be—are the first line of defense against violent jihadi fighters, the outcome of the long-expected battle for Baghdad is all but certain.
Many in the capital fear the new recruits—most of them Shiites—are not up to the task. And Maliki himself seems undecided. “We have taken in around 1,000 new recruits over the past month,” he says. “However, not all of them have the ability to perform well in the field. But all Iraqis know how to use weapons—they learned how during the worst days of [the civil war in] 2005 to 2006.”
A top security adviser to Prime Minister Nuri al-Maliki (no relation to the general)—who, like many in Iraq, spoke only on the condition of anonymity because he wasn’t authorized to talk to the press—seems to believe the security situation is under control. “Right now, Baghdad is secure,” he says. “Look around. All of the shops and malls are open. This shows that the situation in Baghdad is improving.”

General Malik al-Maliki in his office at Camp Taji.

Vocativ/Jeff Neumann

A member of the mukhabarat—Iraq’s widely feared, plainclothes secret police—agreed when we spoke at a checkpoint just south of Baghdad. There, members of a different unit of Iraq’s Federal Police were proudly showing off their CCTV equipment and a new system that allowed them to check driver IDs and vehicle registration using a laptop computer linked with Baghdad’s Interior Ministry. The secret police officer said there had been no car bombs at the checkpoint since the new equipment arrived.
Yet as nervous-looking drivers passed by, a Federal Police officer said the new recruits wouldn’t be enough to keep the city safe—the country would have to rely on ragtag groups of Shiite militias, which top religious figures have asked to defend the cities. Many of these militias are unproven, and some allegedly have resorted to vigilante-style violence against Sunnis, something the government denies. “We don’t have time to train them properly,” the officer said. “So we give them some basic weapons training before sending them out.”

Some residents of Baghdad's Khadimiya neighborhood seem unimpressed with security forces.

Vocativ/Jeff Neumann

In the meantime, many residents are afraid of what’s to come. At a local league soccer game in Adhamiyah, a predominantly Sunni neighborhood that’s bustling with new shopping malls, the players ran back and forth in a small, fenced-in area. The Astroturf looked worn from hours of play. “The security situation got so bad that we had to stop playing matches at the main field,” said Hadi Hussein, one of the players. “Now we have to play here.”
The game was like soccer anywhere else in the world: exaggerated injuries and loud outbursts from the crowd every time someone scored a goal. But beyond this veneer of normality, there was a grim sense of how quickly life can change in Baghdad. As Hussein put it: “Our destiny is God’s hands.”