Getting Iraq To Work

They saw some construction begin and heard a few comments from several U.S. soldiers about 35 good jobs that would be starting near the base. Many villagers probably wrote this off as another failed U.S. promise, but the construction continued and the talk grew more concrete. Finally, the project actually opened, and nearly 100 Iraqis lined up to compete for those jobs.

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For once, Iraqis see hope and money, and they want both desperately.

In the first month after the contracting office opened in June, the Iraqi contracts in the province jumped by more than 20 percent and nearly $4 million. Villagers watched two Iraqi-owned plants go up in a semi-secure area in less than two months, grabbing several enormous contracts that typically would have gone to better-positioned Turkish firms. And 35 residents from four small villages received apprenticeships for on-the-job training as carpenters, plumbers and electricians, jobs that provide lunch and a decent salary by Iraqi standards.

Now, when we tell them to expect an additional 85 jobs this winter when we expand the IBIZ skills training program to include welders, small-engine mechanics and air conditioner repairmen, Iraqis are more likely to believe us, even though it might be a different "us" after my unit rotates out of theater.

I'm the one who receives the glowing appreciation and the e-mail invitation to lunch from an Iraqi contractor in broken English for what we've done with IBIZ, but my soldiers are the heroes. And they deserve the credit.

They're not the only ones, of course. Dozens of other officers, soldiers, civilian contractors, linguists and airmen on the base have played a crucial role in making this concept a reality. Some of them balked at it initially because they thought it too great a security risk, creating a magnet for attacks; others openly opposed it. But in the end, the idea prevailed because it was a good one. It may even turn out to be a great one.

And of course, there are the Iraqis working at or with the IBIZ themselves.

Here are some remarks sent to me recently by the Iraqi who owns one of the industrial plants:

"We and each honorable Iraqi should not forget each drop of blood that the US military dropped it for our sake to put us in right way to life and we should know that we owe much for the US people."

Those words made me proud. At the same time, I realize that therein lies the problem. Iraqis owe much, possibly too much, to the American people and the U.S. military. The contracts are all U.S. government contracts, the security is all provided by U.S. soldiers, and the jobs are all dependent on massive U.S. military bases. If they weren't receiving U.S. support, these Iraqis wouldn't have many options. And if the U.S. presence fades, the Iraqi plumbers, carpenters and electricians will face a stark decision: leave the country with their families and their new skills, or fight so that their tribe or sect or village will get some share of the remaining oil revenue.

The IBIZ is only one small tactical victory in need of a much larger strategic or political triumph. Some scholars and foreign policy experts claim that one of the major lessons of Vietnam is that tactical victories do not equal success at the strategic or political level. They may be correct, but the politicians who quote them often fail to mention that tactical victories don't necessarily preclude strategic victories, either. Gen. David H. Petraeus and Ambassador Ryan C. Crocker are courageous men who believe that we are making progress. When they say that, I believe them because I, too, can finally see some results. I just hope that the investment in projects such as IBIZ hasn't come too late to make a lasting difference.

In a few years, I'll have the opportunity to examine how we won or lost this war while I study public policy in graduate school. No doubt, I'll uncover mistakes that our government, politicians and military leaders made over the first few years. But for now, I am up far too late at night, worried about maintaining discipline and accomplishing my mission as my soldiers and I finish our tour.

As I drift off, I think of my wife and two daughters waiting at home. And I see once again the strange combination of hope and desperation in those Iraqis' eyes on that first day of work. Then I see the fatigue on many of my soldiers' faces as I pin awards on their chests. They are noble, and they are heroes. And I am immensely proud of what I did with them in Iraq last summer.

james.t.golby@gmail.com

Jim Golby is an Army captain on his second tour of duty in Iraq.

This article reflects his personal views and does not represent the official position of the U.S. military or the Department of Defense.

Jim Golby will discuss his article at 1 p.m. Tuesday at www.washingtonpost.com/liveonline.