Pushing anti-terrorism in Africa

The Pentagon plan is to mobilise Africans to fight and pre-empt militant groups.

The US military is embarking on a long-term push into Africa to counter what it considers growing inroads by Al Qaida and other terrorist networks in poor, lawless and predominantly Muslim expanses of the continent.

The Pentagon plans to train thousands of African troops in battalions equipped for extended desert and border operations and to link the militaries of different countries with secure satellite communications.

The initiative, with proposed funding of $500 million (Dh1.83 billion) over seven years, covers Algeria, Chad, Mali, Mauritania, Niger, Senegal, Nigeria, Morocco and Tunisia — with the US military eager to add Libya if relations improve.

The Pentagon is also assigning more military officers to US embassies in the region, bolstering the gathering and sharing of intelligence, casing out austere landing strips for use in emergencies, and securing greater access and legal protections for US troops through new bilateral agreements.

The thrust into Africa is vital to head off an infiltration by international terrorist groups, according to senior US military, Pentagon and State Department officials.

The groups are recruiting hundreds of members in Africa and Europe, attacking local governments and Western interests, and profiting from tribal smuggling routes to obtain arms, cash and hide-outs, they say.

Meanwhile, small groups of Islamic radicals are moving into Africa from Iraq, where Africans make up about a quarter of the foreign fighters, the officials say.

Foreshadowing a new phase in the war against terrorism, the Pentagon plan is to mobilise Africans to fight and pre-empt militant groups while only selectively using US troops, who are already taxed by operations in Iraq and Afghanistan.

But in mustering African forces, the US military confronts not only a highly elusive enemy across a vast, desolate terrain but also the competing agendas of authoritarian African governments and corrupt and chaotic militaries on the ground.

"Arretez!" yelled Sergeant 1st Class Brian of the US Army Special Forces, waving his arms at a squad of Chadian soldiers bounding over a dirt berm in a windblown stretch of desert south of Chad's capital, N'Djamena.

It was the first mock assault of the morning, and the Chadians appeared to have forgotten everything the Americans had taught them. They were spread out too widely, standing up on the berm instead of crawling low, and their squad leader was omitting crucial orders.

"Tell them to check their men" for wounds, Brian shouted to an interpreter.

It was only 7am, but the energetic young Green Beret from Baltimore was exasperated. Citing security risks, the US soldiers spoke on condition that only their first names be used.

Brian and about 1,000 other US troops fanned out into North and West Africa in June for a major exercise to lay the groundwork for the Trans-Sahara Counter Terrorism Initiative, approved this Spring.

In three weeks of initial training, Brian's team from 10th Special Forces Group and a team from the National Guard's 20th Special Forces Group glimpsed the challenge ahead in Chad, the world's fifth-poorest country and, according to the anti-corruption group Transparency International, the third most corrupt.

Navigating foreign cultures

"It was like going to Mars," said Sergeant 1st Class Gary, a welder from Utica, New York, on the National Guard team.

Green Berets are trained to navigate foreign cultures, but both teams lacked Africa expertise and were short on French and Arabic speakers. Each team was designed to have 12 members, but Gary's had nine men and Brian's had six.

They were given the assignment on short notice after the 3rd Special Forces Group, which normally covers Africa, was deployed to Iraq.

They landed in Chad with outdated US military maps that still labelled the current capital, N'Djamena, with its French colonial name, Fort Lamy.

Gary fashioned his own crude map by plotting GPS coordinates for stores and gas stations. US soldiers are relative newcomers in Chad, where France has had 1,000 troops and three air bases.

After scouting out the cacophonous, crime-ridden capital, the soldiers concluded it was ripe for terrorists. Worshipers outside the grand mosque denounced the war in Iraq.

Booksellers sold Islamic fundamentalist tracts. Across the Chari River, youths ran a brisk operation smuggling sugar from Cameroon into N'Djamena markets under the noses of Chadian customs guards.

Arms traffickers move easily across Chad's 3,500 miles of unguarded borders, and airport security is lax, US officials say.

"This place is so easy to move through," observed Sergeant 1st Class Jasper, an intelligence soldier with the 10th Special Forces Group team, which will prepare a classified report on its mission.

From N'Djamena, the US troops pushed South into the desert and moved into two mud-brick military camps inhabited by livestock and camel spiders big as a man's fist.

There, Chadian forces were disorganised and ill-equipped: There were 14-year-old boys and men pushing the limits of Chad's male life expectancy, 46 years. Some had zero experience and others were combat veterans of Chad's decades-long civil war.

They wore everything from Vietnam-era tiger-stripe uniforms to gym clothes, along with flip-flops, boots, dress shoes or no shoes.

Gary's team trained a group of 160 men equipped with 23 AK-47 assault rifles. Some aimed with the wrong eye and fired wildly, but most learned to shoot and clean the guns.

Brian's team worked with a more experienced battalion of 200 men outfitted with weapons, radios and 13 Toyota trucks, who nevertheless lacked basic skills.

So the Americans started demonstrating tactics using GI Joe action figures in the sand, until one day the Chadians appeared ready for a platoon-size attack on "the Cardboardians", a row of cardboard torsos set in tires.

"The biggest thing is making sure they don't shoot each other," said Jasper, preparing for a live-fire drill.

A squad of Chadian soldiers, crouching low, began moving toward the target. Suddenly, before the signal had been given, a machine gunner on their flank started shooting.

His ammunition ran out before the assaulting squad got into position, leaving them dangerously vulnerable. Jasper shook his head and ordered the squad that misfired to practise again without ammo.

"Bang! Bang! Bang-bang-bang!" the Chadian soldiers shouted.

Jasper, Brian and the rest of the team gathered under the shade of a feathery shamis tree, offering a scathing critique of the morning.

"Mistakes happen," Jasper said with a sigh.

A gust whipped a billow of dust across the blistering hot range, and out of nowhere, Lieutenant Abdullah Eisa Djerou whirled into action.

After hanging back for weeks during the training, the Chadian officer suddenly took command, barking orders to a squad of men rushing a target.

Brian cringed at Djerou's encroachment on the squad leader's authority. He pulled Djerou aside and advised him to let the squad leader do his job.

Djerou is only a lieutenant but serves as the battalion's executive officer — a mystery to the Americans until they discovered that he belongs to President Idris