Writing a book is often more of a learning experience than a creative endeavor. This was never more the case than when I began work on The Sheriff of Ramadi (Naval Institute Press, forthcoming). During the summer and fall of 2006, while the Battle of Ramadi raged, I had serious doubts about how this was going to end—in Ramadi and in all of al Anbar province. As the press reported, things were bad and getting worse. My story was about Navy SEAL operations in Ramadi. I thought it would be a narrative of courage in a losing cause, the orchestra playing on the deck of the Titanic. The prospect of a positive outcome seemed doubtful.
Indeed, the classified Marine intelligence estimates, as leaked to the Washington Post in late 2006, all but claimed it was over: al Qaeda had won. The first inkling I had that that was not true came from the SEAL operators returning from the battle. "I don't care what the Marine intel types are reporting or what's in the media," a task unit commander told me that November, "we are winning in Ramadi. We're winning the ground and we're winning the people." Candidly, I doubted him. I thought he was too close to the action—a brave and capable ground commander who couldn't see the forest for the trees. I was wrong.
Looking back, there was a great deal I didn't know. Ramadi proved to be not only a success but our first sustained victory in this insurgency. So what can we safely learn from this experience and apply elsewhere, both in Iraq and beyond?
Taking Stock
Before looking ahead, let's review exactly what happened. I'm not sure how many Americans understand that in Ramadi and al Anbar, we won! Even those of us who write about it (including the fine articles by Andrew Lubin and Colonel Mark Cancian in the April 2008 issue of Proceedings) seem to have achieved clarity only with hindsight. The people of al Anbar province, the Iraqi security forces, and the American military joined forces to win al Anbar and the Battle of Ramadi. What happened in al Anbar was bottom-up victory, both politically and militarily. Al Qaeda lost. The turnover to the Iraqi government of responsibility for the province took place on 1 September.
This is the first time in my memory that insurgents took control of an area, including a segment of the population, and then we took it back. The press is quick to point out our shortcomings in Iraq, but it seemed to me that the winning of al Anbar was underreported. Since an insurgency is a battle for the people, it's instructional that we fully understand what took place.
Before the summer of 2006, nothing we tried was working—or, if it worked, it seemed at best a temporary solution. We were frustrated that the insurgents, both the hardcore foreign fighters and the local foot soldiers, appeared to be deeply embedded in the population.
There was, however, a growing awareness in the military that while we were losing ground, the people and their local leaders wanted nothing to do with al Qaeda. Still, in the streets of Ramadi things were so bad that we were in danger of ceding the victory to the insurgents—of hunkering down in our fortified bases and letting the insurgents have the rest.
This was the stage onto which stepped Colonel Sean MacFarland—my sheriff of Ramadi—and his 1st Brigade Combat Team. MacFarland arrived in May 2006 from Tal'Afar and was told to reclaim Ramadi. As the brigade commander, he was cautioned only to avoid a sustained, pitched battle like the one that destroyed Fallujah in 2004. He was not given a battle plan, nor did his superiors tell him how to proceed. MacFarland's marching orders were simply to take Ramadi. "I was given very broad guidance," he told me. "Fix Ramadi but don't destroy it," he said of his orders. "You name it, I tried it. I had a lot of flexibility."
Such freedom of action would not likely have been granted to a commander earlier in the campaign. The lesson here is: Let the commanders on the ground make the tactical decisions. They, more than anyone up the chain of command, know the local dynamic. If one approach doesn't work, they're the ones who will be quickest in shifting tactics to meet the local threat. This local, bottom-up military approach led to our success there.
Al Qaeda's Missteps
Politically, the revolt of the tribes in Ramadi and al Anbar against al Qaeda—the Awakening—was the kind of political movement that had long eluded us in Iraq. This, too, was a bottom-up phenomenon. The Baghdad government and coalition forces had done little to bring a national security solution to the insurgency in al Anbar.
Then there was the brutish and arrogant nature of al Qaeda in their attempt to control the people. From trying to force daughters of tribal leaders into marriages of convenience to the overt campaign of murder and intimidation, they could not have played their cards in worse fashion. It takes a great deal of effort to get an Arab tribal region, even a secular one, to side with a Western army of occupation. But al Qaeda did it in al Anbar.
If al Qaeda in Iraq (AQI) had shown some respect for the tribal leaders or been less insistent on a strict Islamist agenda, it might have won the people, which is the same as winning the battle.
When the tribal leaders finally had enough, things began to change. Al Qaeda began to lose local support—the death knell for an insurgency. Within the individual tribal lands and neighborhoods, AQI lost its sanctuary and base of recruits. From the enemy military perspective and capability, it was worse than that. Local foot soldiers left the ranks of insurgents and joined the tribal police. The balance sheet tipped dramatically in our favor.
In other local battles in Iraq, coalition firepower had often swept the streets of insurgents, only to have them return because they had sanctuary. We won the streets but not the people. In Ramadi, the Army and the Marines systematically took back the streets. After that we won the people—or, rather, the tribes turned against al Qaeda, which swung the people to our side.
Sean MacFarland and subordinate commanders by this time had enough cultural expertise and counterinsurgency talent to seize the opening. Earlier in the conflict, commanders on the ground may not have had the experience to see this kind of opportunity and exploit it.
Build on Success
And now, how do we preserve this hard-won victory in al Anbar? Since the insurgent battleground is a contest for the human terrain, the victory is fragile, and we too can lose the people. Yet we are still an army of occupation on foreign soil. Our role is necessary and important—but it must be subtle.
In Ramadi, police are preserving the peace and security. Going forward, our every action should be colored by how our presence and activity reinforce the security role of local police. How can we help to support and preserve their victory? Our presence can be a reminder of Western occupation and a rallying point for the jihadists. To some Iraqis, we signify that Crusaders are still among them.
We are still needed in al Anbar, but in what strength and what configuration? Clearly we must have a robust intelligence effort to guard against resurgent al Qaeda efforts. We must help, both directly and indirectly, to promote the security of tribal leaders, the training of local security forces, and reconstruction. Any kinetic U.S. operations in the region must be judicious and well thought out. The role of the new sheriff of Ramadi will be far different from Sean MacFarland's. In many ways it will be more difficult. The new American area commander will have to use force carefully and judiciously.
Understanding Others
What could we have done better in Ramadi and al Anbar? Following the invasion, why did we take so long to get it right? One of our shortcomings has to do with our persistent lack of cultural understanding and our inability to rapidly adapt to changes in the battle space—in al Anbar as across Iraq.
Democracy and federalism have limited application in Islamic nations and tribal societies. That is not to say they have no relevance. A democracy, specifically an economic democracy, and federalism are both bridges to modernity. But these ideas have to be applied with a judicious inventory of local customs and local politics. It's often not easy, but it's doable.
We paid dearly for our inability to adapt with lives and treasury. Junior battlefield commanders saw this insurgency coming well before our senior military and political leadership gave it any credence. Perhaps they were reporting these things up the chain of command, but senior leaders didn't want to hear those reports.
Whatever the reasons, we were slow to react. Plus, because of poor understanding of the culture, we seemed not to know how to react. Those on the ground often see things clearly and early. There's a lesson here as well: Listen to the junior commanders—the lieutenants, captains, and majors.
On Invasion
Perhaps the most important lesson to be learned is that when we invade and put our troops ashore in a foreign land, the clock starts ticking. No matter what our reasons for invasion or how benevolent or righteous the cause, our presence will be resented. And the strongest resistance will come from those most in opposition to our interests. They will use our presence to their advantage, and time is not on our side. The faster we can accomplish our goals and withdraw, the better.
If our incursion is a high-visibility affair, as it was in Iraq, then our timeline is that much more restricted. A clear and accurate understanding of their culture and our limitations within that culture is essential to any endgame.
And there's always an endgame. We may leave a below-the-radar military or advisory presence, but whenever we go in with a visible, conventional force, we must be seen to leave.
On the Local Culture
The implications for the rest of Iraq of the success in al Anbar are complicated. What worked in the Sunni tribal lands of al Anbar may not be directly applicable in Shia-dominated regions in Baghdad and the southern provinces. Iraqi culture and character are very complex. This society has been 4,000 years in the making, and it has been a mosaic of independent tribal cultures for much of that time.
While it would be inadvisable to think that all of what worked in Ramadi will work in Basrah, a few lessons may be useful. Perhaps the most glaring of these is how central people are to any solution that involves local security. This applies to the problem of insurgents who threaten that security—and ultimately our continued presence as guarantors of it. Insurgents swim in the sea of the people. If the people turn them out, as they did in al Anbar, they become visible and vulnerable to national security forces and the local police.
To be sure, the multiethnic nature of Iraq's non-Kurdish, non-al Anbar regions presents unique challenges. Certainly the Sunni-Shia issues will take time and political skill to resolve. Yet the lessons of Ramadi may have merit, even in the Shia south.
Eighty-five percent of Iraqis claim a tribal affiliation. Some tribes claim both Sunni and Shia in their membership. Many of these predate Islam, and tribal entities overlap. In some cases they trump regional and national governmental boundaries of authority. A judicious recognition of this mosaic of tribal lands and neighborhoods is an essential element to stabilizing the nation of Iraq.
Security measures that employ a tribal affiliation may help to rein in insurgent violence, at least the al Qaeda brand of insurgent violence, allowing the Iraqis to address other problems. At that point, the United States will be able to consider the number of brigades we can safely bring home.
The Lessons
Continuing forward beyond Iraq, I hope we now have a better understanding of the consequences of invasion. The Iraq lesson was an expensive one. Understanding begins with a careful study of the people and culture we've elected to favor with our military presence. We seem to do well in the big wars and the small wars, but the protracted, inter-cultural, medium-size wars seem to cause us problems.
In conflicts such as those in Vietnam and Iraq, maneuver warfare inevitably gives way to insurgency warfare, and the people become more important than ground. Meanwhile, the clock keeps ticking.
From a conventional perspective, our force has to be better configured for counterinsurgency: militarily, politically, and fiscally. In terms of the military, it appears that global, World War II?type conflicts are a thing of the past. If that should turn out not to be the case, our standing conventional force will be asked to fight a holding action while the nation mobilizes. Or else we will pursue the nuclear option. Neither of these is likely. No nation wants to deal with a mobilized United States or our superior nuclear capability.
The most conspicuous deficiency in our force structure is the lack of cross-cultural awareness and counterinsurgency capability. Here the lessons of Ramadi most certainly apply. The U.S. Army is charged with the mission of counterinsurgency warfare. The Army clearly has the talent and, due to our prolonged stay in Iraq, now also has the experience. The service must recognize skilled commanders such as Sean MacFarland and promote them. Their value in the future most probable military scenarios is incalculable.
U.S. conventional forces must also make it a priority to seek out and properly use our special operations forces. The Sheriff of Ramadi is a case study of the close working relationship that evolved between the Army and Navy SEALs. I'm not aware of a single instance in which Army Special Forces or Rangers have worked so well in direct support of conventional Army forces over the course of a battle.
In my forthcoming Naval Institute Press book I focused on the SEAL/Army symbiosis, but the SEALs also worked closely with the Marines, in Ramadi as well as elsewhere in al Anbar province. The Ramadi SEALs with whom I spoke held their Marine brothers in high regard but reserved their highest praise for the Army. They just seemed to connect naturally—they seemed to enjoy an ease of integration with the Army and quickly reached a working relationship.
It wasn't like this with the Marines. In part this may be because of the Marine Corps culture: the service sees itself as an integrated, self-contained expeditionary force. In Ramadi, SEALs entered the battle space most often in support of the Army.
We can learn from our special operators in al Anbar—the Navy SEALs in Ramadi. We can apply their lessons to future SOF-conventional force operations. Without question, SEALs were among the most highly trained warriors in Ramadi, which stands to reason. It takes a great deal of time and money to make a battle-ready SEAL. And today's SEAL teams enjoy a very high rate of retention; there is no shortage of veterans.
In Ramadi, SEALs integrated their direct-action and intelligence capabilities into a conventional-force battle plan. This integration was a two-way street. First the conventional command structure, the Army brigade commander and Army and Marine battalion commanders, had to understand what the SEALs could contribute operationally and in the area of intelligence. They then had to "direct" the efforts of the SEAL task unit, since the SEALs were not theirs to command.
For their part, SEALs had to take this direction and put their capabilities at the disposal of conventional units across Ramadi. The key factor here is that the SEAL-conventional relationship was a bottom-up alliance based on trust. The Ramadi SEAL task unit commanders asked what they could do to help, and the Army brigade commanders used "their" SEALs to best advantage.
In Sean MacFarland's words, "they went into the seams of the battle space where we couldn't go." The SEAL and conventional commanders on the ground worked this out.
This may be more than a lesson: it may be a template for future SOF/conventional-force command relationships. In less contentious situations, there might have been some turf issues. But in Ramadi during the heat of battle, parochial problems evaporated. With an enemy present, the guys on the ground worked together to accomplish the mission.
In the past I've advocated SOF control of battle space, even SOF control of conventional assets in that battle space. Ramadi has caused me to rethink this. When it comes to insurgent battle space, it may be simply a matter of scale.
Perhaps in limited insurgent conflicts, with capable local security forces in place, SOF command and control would work well. Certain parts of Afghanistan may lend themselves to an SOF battle space commander. But an insurgency such as the one that metastasized in Iraq—or in a city the size of Ramadi, where organized fighters openly contested the streets—probably needs to be resolved by conventional forces of infantry and armor.
Our SOF components will have to train and, if necessary, expand to meet the growing challenges of terrorism and insurgency. They must also be fully prepared to step into the role that the Ramadi SEALs pioneered: sustained battlefield support of conventional forces.
A part of the SOF/SEAL mission will always be to target and kill terrorists. Killing terrorist leaders and forcing other terrorist leaders to live a life on the run degrades their organizational and operational activity. For the most part, this mission applies to all SOF components, but it is the specific province of our special missions units, the ones we all know exist but seldom talk about.
This dogged pursuit of those who practice terror, along with political and economic pressure directed at states that sponsor terrorist activity, is probably our best option to manage the terrorist threat. If the day ever comes that our enemies obtain and use a nuclear weapon, then we will have entered a new era of destabilization and retribution. But we are not there yet.
Insurgency is the enemy's most probable tactic. Fortunately, these are also the most easily defeated if we're prepared to move quickly and professionally with effective counterinsurgent tactics. This can only happen if we have the tools to understand and navigate the human terrain. Language skills and cross-cultural understanding have to be front-loaded, or else we risk another Iraq and another Ramadi.
The reclaiming of areas lost to revolts is just too costly. The U.S. Army must better develop counterinsurgent capabilities and commanders. SOF must do better as well. As much as our special operators like to focus on kinetic, direct-action operations, more needs to be done in the area of foreign internal defense: training indigenous security forces.
Uprisings are the weapon of choice for the al Qaeda network. If we don't win the people, then rebels become an ongoing and renewable resource; we simply cannot kill them all. In the final reckoning, it will be their capability, that of local security forces, that will decide the issue.
But if local security forces manage to keep the peace for a while and then al Qaeda regains control, we may have to step in and take back the physical terrain. In that case the lessons of Ramadi will become relevant again. Our SOF ground components will have to join their conventional brothers on the battlefield and pay the butcher's bill.