Iraqi Translator Seeks American Future

Ammar Abdul Rasool Abaas, a former Iraqi interpreter for the U.S. military who wants asylum in the U.S, prepares a car in Irbil, a city in the Kurdish controlled north Sunday, Sept. 30, 2007. Now Abaas, who quit his post and fled Baghdad because of the threats, wants to restart his life in the United States. So far, he's made it only as far as Iraq's northern Kurdish region with a thicket of bureaucracy and uncertainties still ahead.(AP Photo/Aiyod Mawloodi) (Aiyod Mawloodi - AP)

IRBIL, Iraq -- American soldiers gave him the nickname "Allen." Once, a wounded Humvee gunner fell onto his lap. Another time, interpreter Ammar Abdul Rasool Abaas gave testimony that helped convict a U.S. sergeant of killing a bound detainee.

For more than two years, Abaas worked alongside U.S. troops. His decision to take the job had nothing to do with pro-American sentiments. He said he needed the money to support his family.

But insurgents branded him a collaborator who should die.

Now Abaas _ who quit his post and fled the main war zone because of the threats _ wants to restart his life in the United States. So far, he's made it only as far as Iraq's northern Kurdish region with a thicket of bureaucracy and uncertainties still ahead.

Abaas' limbo represents the tale of thousands of other Iraqi helpers for Western military forces and groups who seek to leave their war-battered homeland.

The quandary over how wide to open the door has left lawmakers in the West struggling with competing agendas: a sense of moral obligation to the Iraqi aides but worries about a flood of newcomers. The United States _ with by far the largest foreign presence in Iraq _ has come under the most direct criticism from rights groups for keeping a tight lid.

Washington originally planned to resettle 7,000 Iraqis this year. It has since been reduced to 2,000 _ with processing time of eight to 10 months.

In May, the House of Representatives proposed a four-year plan to accept up to 60,000 Iraqis who worked for at least a year with U.S.- or U.N.-affiliated groups.

"I have offered everything," said Abaas, a 39-year-old Shiite Muslim who fled with his family to Irbil, the capital of the relatively calm Kurdish zone, where he fixes cars for a living.

Abaas has applied for Iraqi passports for his family of five, including 2-year-old twin boys. Then he plans to travel to Syria to apply with the U.N. refugee agency, which refers cases to U.S. officials.

But Syria _ struggling with more than 1.5 million Iraqi refugees _ now demands visas for Iraqis in a move that could severely complicate one of the first steps to securing passage to the West.

Abaas could remain in Iraq and try to push his case with U.S. officials. But the threats make any trip outside the Kurdish area too much of a risk, he believes.