AGUR KUF NAHIA, Iraq—All conflicts develop a center of gravity. In Iraq, that center is Baghdad. The Agur Kuf Nahia is part of the Northern Security Belt of Baghdad. Endless narrow dirt roads and irrigation canals cut across this contentious region.

Sectarian motivated kidnappings, murders, and intimidation peaked during the middle of 2006. During that period, Al-Qaeda in Iraq (AQI) and sectarian-based death squads used the canals as dumping grounds for the dead. Drifting corpses became ensnared in the towering reeds growing along the steep banks. The odor of death would entice roving packs of feral dogs.

During the last week of January 2008, “Big Dawg,” a coalition forces security patrol of three Mine Resistant Ambush Protected (MRAP) vehicles is heading west on a dirt road.

The road narrows as it crosses over an irrigation canal.

The soldiers are assigned to Bravo Battery, Fires Squadron and the 2nd Stryker Calvary Regiment. Captain Donald Hayfron, the “Big Dawg” executive officer, is riding in the front right seat of the trailing MRAP.

“Rollover, rollover, rollover,” Hayfron announces. These verbal commands are part of a battle drill, rehearsed daily by the crew in the event of a MRAP rollover.

This is not a rehearsal. The dirt embankment alongside his vehicle is collapsing. Within seconds, the vehicle is sent careening off the dirt road. The MRAP and five soldiers slam into the murky waters of the canal.

“Water,” shouts Sergeant Anare Murphy. The overturned MRAP is flooding. Body armor and equipment impede the release of four-point restraints worn by the crew.

From behind the steering wheel, Staff Sergeant Kevin Durham instinctively requests a verbal status check from the crew. Only four voices respond from the dark interior. A soldier is missing below the rising waters.

Murphy and Private First Class Travis Chitton begin searching below the surface of the frigid water. PFC Derek Wade is drowning. He is inverted and unable to release his restraints.

Within minutes, a motionless left arm is found in the pitch-black water. After repeated rescue attempts, Wade is eventually released from his restraints and pulled toward an air pocket near the front of the MRAP.

A preliminary assessment of Wade’s condition reveals that he has a pulse but his airway is partially obstructed by a mixture of aspirated water and blood. Without medical care, Wade could become severely hypoxic and die. The soldiers hold onto their fallen comrade as they look up at the massive 770-kilogram armored door that blocks their escape.

Abnaa al-Iraq—”Sons of Iraq”—a regulated, community-based security force, is providing protection at a nearby Traffic Control Point when they witness the MRAP vehicle plunge into the canal. They immediately notify coalition forces about the crash. U.S. soldiers, Iraqi interpreters and the Abnaa al-Iraq run to the canal. Working together, they open the driver’s door and pull Wade from the darkness.

Ten kilometers northeast of the rescue operation, I am photographing Sheik Nadeem on the city streets of Taji. He is walking with an entourage toward a line of waiting cars. His security guards, armed with AK-47 assault rifles, are avoiding my camera lens as they actively scan the neighborhood for potential threats.

Nadeem is the head sheik in Taji. The city lies outside of the Agur Kuf Nahia. As a pro-reconciliation tribal leader, he has agreed to serve as arbiter over a strategic tribal meeting. This meeting will bypass the Iraqi judicial system and attempt to facilitate a binding tribal solution for crimes committed during a sectarian attack. The crimes occurred 19 months earlier in the Shia village of Shiabat.

Sectarian attacks have elevated civil tension among the region’s tribes. However, a civil war does not currently exist inside the borders of the Agur Kuf Nahia.

Coalition forces remain focused on security throughout the war-ravaged country. Providing the population with sustainable security is the prerequisite for reducing sectarian killings. Shiite and Sunni leadership will be required to adopt a robust posture of reconciliation if the desired end state is a free national government.

Our planned departure from Taji to the tribal meeting is interrupted by an emergency radio transmission. The voice of Captain Christopher Ellis, the Bravo Battery commander, is on the network. He is transmitting a medical evacuation request from the scene of the MRAP vehicle rollover.

Nadim is instructed to travel to the tribal meeting with his security guards. The coalition patrol heads directly to the crash site. In less than 15 minutes, we arrive at the scene of the overturned MRAP vehicle.

Walking across the land bridge, I hear the sound of a UH-60 Blackhawk helicopter orbiting overhead. Soldiers are carrying Wade on a litter to a landing zone. He is coughing violently. Each breath is a fight for survival. The green blanket covering his shivering body is spattered with blood-tinged foamy saliva.

Wade is loaded into the helicopter and flown to the 86th Combat Surgical Hospital in Baghdad. Inside the emergency room, he is intubated in order to remove fluid from his lungs. He is admitted into the intensive care unit as a critical patient.

“I did not want to die in the water,” Hayfron says, after the rollover. “The Sons of Iraq were there for us. Their efforts contributed to the timely rescue of PFC Wade.”

An hour later, I arrive at the tribal reconciliation meeting with the coalition patrol. The meeting is being held in a large, ornately patterned tent. Over 100 sheiks, local leaders, and witnesses are avidly debating specific events of the attack on Shiabat.

Lt. Col. Bob McAleer, the Fires Squadron commander, joins Nadeem at the head table. McAleer addresses the crowd.

“Peace be upon you. Peace be upon those of you who have suffered. Peace be upon those of you who continue to suffer.

“The purpose of this meeting is to discuss the events occurring in the village of Shiabat starting July 17, 2006 and ending three days later.”

After several hours of discussion and witness testimony, McAleer and Nadeem adopt the following fact pattern. The Halibusi Tribe, led by Hilal Mutar Al-Habusi, conducted a coordinated attack against the Beni-Tamimi Tribe in the Shia village of Shiabat. Mortars, machine guns, and small arms were employed during the prolonged Sunni-led attack.

On the third day, Al-Habusi offered to cease fire, if the besieged Beni-Tamimi tribe disarmed and vacated their homes. With no water, little food, and insufficient ammunition to defend itself, the Shia have no choice.

Unarmed, the men of the Beni-Tamimi tribe attempted to evacuate their families in dump trucks. Members of the Halibusi tribe stopped the trucks at gunpoint and abducted five Shia men. The five men were never seen again.

“Does anyone disagree with these basic facts?” McAleer asked, while standing in the center of the tent. The crowd remained silent.
Near the end of the meeting, a lethal rift is exposed between two Sunni leaders. Sheik Zedan Khalaf Mohammed points his left hand at the Sheik of the Halibusi tribe and confronts him about the fate of the abducted men.

“We need the truth. If we go back and forth without the truth, we get nowhere,” Zedan says.

The truth is that Hilal Mutar Al-Habusi is a dangerous man, operating on the fringes of AQI. He is suspected in numerous killings, robberies and weapons trafficking from Syria. His son, Mishal Hilal Mutar Al-Habusi, is an AQI cell leader in the cities of Bassam and Abu Ghurayb.

Six days later, I am standing in the dark. A blackout has swept through the Al-Fallujah Hospital. A ringtone escapes from an unseen cellular phone. The open flame of a cigarette lighter streaks past an open door. After several minutes, the overhead lights flicker to life. The left hand of Zedan is intertwined with a blood-filled intravenous line.

Thirty-six hours earlier, the sheik was the target of an assassination attempt. An improvised explosive device affixed to the undercarriage of his car was detonated on a dirt road. Bloodied, he dragged himself onto the roadway.

A signal from a cellular phone is believed to have triggered the IED. The force of the explosion sent shrapnel ripping through the skin and muscles in his legs and left arm. The entire calf muscle in his left leg was lost.

Zedan is a Sunni moderate. His public endorsement of tribal reconciliation has made him a target. The unsecured Al-Fallujah Hospital affords his enemies the opportunity for a second attack. A coalition patrol led by McAleer is preparing to evacuate the injured sheik to the Al-Shiffa hospital in Baghdad.

The gravity of the situation is forgotten during a momentary burst of gallows humor shared by the two men. Camaraderie in the Agur Kuf Nahia is a frequently exchanged commodity, traded in hours and days.

Five days later, I am walking on a dirt road near Zedan's residence. His home is located in the Sixth Queme area of the Agur Kuf Nahia. Men from the Al-Masuri tribe are providing security for their injured leader.

Pain is surging through the mangled legs of the Sunni sheik. Zedan is lying on a bed near a portable propane heater. His bandaged left hand slowly extends towards the radiating heat. McAleer is seated on a plastic chair beside the bed.

“It is true that my legs are damaged,” the sheik says. “However, my commitment to tribal reconciliation remains strong. Even if I have to crawl, I will not stop. We are one country. We are brothers. All of us, regardless if we are Shiite or Sunni.”

By headlamp, I assist in the bandaging of Zedan’s injured arm. His deep wounds appear to be healing. In Iraq, growth is not an indicator of sustainable health.

As a coalition, our gauges are flawed. Their measurements mislead. Sustainable progress in Iraq requires long-term aggressive care by Multi National Forces Iraq (MNF-I). Any premature cessation of care condemns the people of Iraq to a world of violence and systemic failures. A world like present day Iraq.

Platters of rice, chicken, and flat bread are served for dinner. Hassan Katheb, of the Al-Masuri Tribe is seated next to me. He tears the breast meat from the chicken and offers it to me.

In the dimness, I witness Sunni moderates turn into a grateful family. US Army soldiers become boisterous houseguests. Iraqi interpreters remain engaged in translation, as men exchange jokes and details about their lives.

We laugh together, late into the night of our long war.

Evidence suggests that a splinter group from the Al-Masuri Tribe conspired with the Al-Habusi tribe in the planning and execution of the IED attack against the Al-Masuri leader. The attack is a warning from AQI and Sheik Hilal Mutar Al-Habusi. A second warning will be delivered soon.

James Lee is on assignment in Iraq for the Golden Gate [X]press, and has reported from the Republic of the Maldives, Bangladesh and Bahrain.