Bomb Kills a Key Sunni Ally of U.S.

"I can honestly say he was the first one who lit the candle in the fight against al-Qaeda in Anbar province," said Maj. Gen. Muhsen Abdul Hasan Lazem, a top Interior Ministry official who oversees border forces in Iraq. "Sheik Abdul Sattar Abu Risha, a martyr, proved to everyone that there is nothing more valuable than the homeland, and nothing is better than fighting terrorism."

Abu Risha's fellow tribal leaders, along with U.S. military officials, vowed to protect the Anbar Salvation Council and carry on his mission, and said they expected his death would galvanize further support. Ali Hatem Ali Suleiman, a leader of the Dulaim confederation, the largest tribal organization in Anbar, and a rival of Abu Risha's, lamented the loss. "His death has squeezed our heart and made us terribly angry."

"Now, I swear to God, if we will hear anyone is with al-Qaeda, even if he is still inside his mother's womb, we will kill him," Suleiman said. "The man was one of the swords of the council in the province. If one sword falls, other swords will rise."

Iraqi officials imposed a state of emergency in Anbar following the assassination. Under tight security, tribal leaders met and appointed Abu Risha's elder brother, Ahmed, to take the helm of the Anbar Salvation Council.

"I am hopeful that what has been started by Abu Risha and his colleagues will not be reversed," said Deputy Prime Minister Barham Salih. "This crime should make us more determined to support the communities in Anbar and elsewhere against the terrorists."

Resplendent in his gold-trimmed robes, white headdress and Gucci sunglasses, Abu Risha cut a striking figure. He had penetrating brown eyes, a pearl-plated pistol at his side and the assured demeanor of a man who feared no rival in his sand-blown kingdom. Raised the son of a wealthy merchant, he spent much of the early years of the war in the shipping business in Dubai and Amman, Jordan.

When he returned to Iraq he put himself at great personal risk to partner with American soldiers but relished the relationship. When Sen. John McCain (R-Ariz.) visited Ramadi this year, one U.S. soldier recalled, Abu Risha told the congressional delegation: "Today we dine in a Marine base. When you return, I wish to have you as guests in my house. And in five years, I hope we will eat at McDonald's."

"The guy looked like he had some steel in his spine," said Sen. Joseph R. Biden Jr. (D-Del.), who sat next to Abu Risha a week ago at an economic forum in Ramadi.

For much of the war, there was no deadlier place than Anbar province. The tide quietly began to turn in late 2005 in Qaim, a town near the Syrian border, when U.S. troops first sensed a willingness among the tribes to fight alongside them, not against them, according to U.S. military officials.

At the time, virtually all Sunni tribes faced a murderous campaign against anyone who challenged the rising authority of al-Qaeda in Iraq, a predominantly Iraqi group whose links to Osama bin Laden's organization remain unclear. Islamic extremists targeted police, the Iraqi army, religious and tribal leaders and communication systems to isolate people from one another.

"They rendered people virtually naked under their influence," Marine Brig. Gen. John Allen said in an interview. "The tribes chafed under the pressure of murder and intimidation."

In early 2006, a tribal group emerged to oppose al-Qaeda in Iraq, but six of its 11 sheiks were quickly killed, ending that effort. That summer Abu Risha began to talk with U.S. military leaders in Ramadi about bringing his kinsmen and neighbors to the fight. Abu Risha's motivation stemmed in part from revenge: His father was murdered in 2004 by al-Qaeda in Iraq, and three of his brothers have been killed.