Storyteller: Photography by Tim Hetherington @ the Imperial War Museum

This is a small-ish (five rooms) but excellent, vivid, thought-provoking and FREE exhibition about the work and legacy of the legendary British photojournalist, filmmaker and humanitarian, Tim Hetherington (1970 to 2011).

It brings together 65 of his striking photos taken from warzones but also a lot more too, including: four large films projected onto wall-sized screens, half a dozen or so short interviews watchable on video screens with headphones, four or five of the cameras he actually used and one of his smartphones, plus documentary artefacts like his diary and notes, and examples of his half dozen or so photobooks.

Installation view of the Liberia room in ‘Storyteller: Photography by Tim Hetherington’ at IWM London. Photo by the author

The exhibition makes several key points:

1. Hetherington was uncomfortable with being just a war photographer. He felt a greater responsibility to the stories and to the people he met than that. And so he spent longer than is usual for traditional war snappers with the communities and fighters he was covering, and often returned months or years later. So while he continued to work as a photographer on assignment from the likes of the Vanity Fair magazine, he also developed the notion of ‘projects’, generally leading up to photobooks (see list below).

2. Hetherington was tremendously reflective and fluent. He appears not only in the four films (detailed below) and in the half dozen or so video interviews, but also via his own words – there are short pithy quotes printed around the walls. As to the content, it tends to be variations on the same basic idea which is the responsibility he felt to the people he photographed, the obligation he felt to dig beneath the stereotyped images of, for example, Catastrophe in Africa, to try to give his subjects more agency and dignity.

3. Hetherington also broke with convention in his use of vintage cameras through the early 2000s – a time of major advances in digital photography – and the display cases contain some of his actual cameras, such as his Rolleiflex 2.8 FX camera where he had to manually wind the film on with a side handle and manually set the focus. (Elsewhere we can see his Mamiya 7 film camera and Vivitar flash gun.)

The idea was that slowing the photographing process down him gave more freedom to interact with people, while challenging him to take more carefully considered photographs.

Installation view of the Libya room in ‘Storyteller: Photography by Tim Hetherington’ at IWM London. Note the display case containing one of Tim’s cameras and flash attachments next to a contact sheet and notebook.

Projects

1. Healing Sport

In 1999, Hetherington began work on his first large-scale project, ‘Healing Sport’. The idea was to look at the role of sport in ‘healing’ or creating spaces for reconciliation after conflict in war-torn countries like Liberia, Sierra Leone and Angola.

An amputee about to take to the field for a friendly football match at a war veterans camp situated on the outskirts of Luanda, Angola. June 2002, by Tim Hetherington © IWM (DC 63058)

2. Liberia (2003 to 2007)

The second Liberian Civil War (1999 to 2003) was Hetherington’s first experience of an active frontline. He joined up with journalist James Brabazon to capture the story of the Liberians United for Reconciliation and Democracy (LURD) as they marched on the capital, Monrovia, to overthrow Liberian president Charles Taylor.

For his initial assignment Hetherington photographed and filmed LURD combatants over a period of five weeks, but later returned to work, and at times live in Liberia as it transitioned from civil war to democracy. The result was the photobook ‘Long Story: Bit by Bit: Liberia Retold‘, a combination of photography, oral testimony and personal memoir, along with video footage which was incorporated into a documentary film.

A Liberians United for Reconciliation and Democracy (LURD) combatant in Liberia, June 2003 by Tim Hetherington at IWM London © IWM (DC 64010)

3. Afghanistan (2007 to 2008)

In 2007 Hetherington travelled with journalist Sebastian Junger to cover the front line of the war in Afghanistan. They were embedded in a platoon of the 173rd Airborne Brigade based at an isolated outpost called Restrepo in the Korengal Valley.

Initially it was an assignment for Vanity Fair magazine and Hetherington and Junger took turns to embed with the platoon for periods during its 15-month deployment, eating, sleeping and going on operations with the soldiers.

The idea is that the photos here avoid the clichés of battle and instead show these young Americans at work and play, off-duty, rough-housing and larking about and, in a famous sequence, sleeping. So evocative was the image of these tough young men shown in the vulnerable state of sleep that it gave rise to one of his films (see below).

A sleeping soldier from the United States Army’s 173rd Airborne Brigade in Afghanistan’s Korengal Valley by Tim Hetherington © IWM (DC 66144)

In fact the boys got a lot of material from this deployment, resulting in news items and magazine features, several books, a video installation and ‘the multi-award winning and Oscar-nominated documentary film, Restrepo‘. A lot of product, in other words.

The wall caption optimistically says that spending this much time with the soldiers, building up a high level of trust so that they let him capture them in all kinds of moods – all this ‘led him to ask questions through his work about the nature of masculinity’. The nature of masculinity. Really? This is the kind of modish boilerplate that curators write when they haven’t got anything to say. I don’t think the photos ask any questions whatsoever about masculinity, to any male it looks like a lot of male soldiers hanging out, training, play-fighting, smoking, and sleeping. Being soldiers, in other words.

US soldiers filling sandbags at the Restrepo outpost in Afghanistan’s Korengal Valley by Tim Hetherington © IWM

4. Libya (2011)

This was his final project, left unfinished at his death. During the Arab Spring (see my review of The New Middle East: The World After The Arab Spring by Paul Danahar) a wave of anti-government protests across North Africa and the Middle East starting in January 2011, Hetherington embarked on a new project to document the battle to overthrow Colonel Gaddafi’s regime in Libya.

Apparently, Hetherington left notes saying he wanted his photographs to bring out the ‘staged’ and ‘theatrical’ aspect of modern conflict, how a lot of it is performed by combatants who were raised on Vietnam or Rambo movies.

Installation view of the Libya room in ‘Storyteller: Photography by Tim Hetherington’ at IWM London. Photo by the author

It was here, on 20 April 2011, that Hetherington was killed while covering the front lines in the besieged city of Misrata. It’s unclear whether he was wounded by shrapnel from a mortar shell or a rocket-propelled grenade. He was badly wounded but still alive when he was loaded into a van to be driven to hospital but bled to death on the journey. The same attack killed photographer Chris Hondros, badly wounded photographer Guy Martin and wounded photographer Michael Christopher Brown.

Four films

Two of the rooms are dark spaces set aside for video presentations. One of them contains three short films on a loop which have been created for three screens i.e. split-screen films, being:

As you can see, they each relate directly to the three main zones of his reporting and the projects.

The cinema room at ‘Storyteller: Photography by Tim Hetherington’ at IWM London showing the three screens showing different images, part of ‘Sleeping soldiers’ (photo by the author)

At the other end of the series of rooms – in effect the exhibition’s climax – is a dark room dedicated to showing the standalone film, ‘Diary’.

  • Diary (19 minutes 8 seconds)

All the films are to an extent experimental, more like art films than news or reportage. They are OK but I’ve seen better. They feel almost like student works. Hetherington might have been an inspired photographer but producing a film, even of only a few minutes duration, is a completely different business. Our movie-saturated culture demands very high standards. And speaking as the series producer of various TV magazine shows, there’s a lot of craft involved, especially in counterpointing images and sound, an often overlooked but absolutely crucial aspect of film-making.

Thus, sorry to burst anyone’s bubble, but I felt Diary was poor. I especially disliked the use of the voice of what is presumably his girlfriend, recorded from phone messages: on a trivial level a) because it is, with horrible inevitability, American (Vanity Fair; US troops; based in New York; American girlfriend); but, more seriously, b) because it’s a pretty primitive concept to cut scenes of lonely sad hotel rooms, showers and beds, splice these with a few hairy moments out on patrol with troops or driving in a car which comes under attack, and then splice in the voice of girlfriend. It conveys quite a teenage aesthetic. Is he saying the life of a foreign correspondent/photographer can be lonely and isolating? Not a very interesting insight. And purely in terms of technique, hardly any of the shots are particularly good, and the sad girlfriend’s voice strategy feels corny. A student effort.

Self-absorption

This brings me to a thought which won’t make me any friends, which is that there’s an awful lot about him in the exhibition.

The wall labels make the same point over and over that he stayed far longer than usual among the communities and got to know people really well in order to tell their stories blah blah blah but the funny thing is we don’t hear any of their stories.

The LURD fighters in Liberia, the grunts in Afghanistan, I don’t think a single one of them is named. Instead, what we do get a lot of is how this or that project helped Tim grow as a person. In the interviews he explains that this project or that moment or the other photo represented a turning point, when he came to realise x, y or z, had a new insight, helped his evolution as a photographer. An overwhelming amount of it is about Tim, Tim, Tim and I was disappointed with the thinness of analysis of the actual conflicts he covered, Liberia, Afghanistan, Libya.

Thus in the ‘Healing Sport’ film, number 1) he is interviewed throughout the film, in fact the spine of the film is an extended interview with Tim Hetherington. 2) None of the sporting figures he photographed is interviewed or even mentioned by name. 3) He doesn’t talk about the sports so much as what the sports meant for him, about how the thing developed into one of his projects and dovetailed his interest in going behind the scenes of a story along with his concept of the Trojan Horse i.e. shedding light on conflict via a more acceptable subject i.e. sport. The core of the film is Hetherington telling us how he conceived and evolved the project and what it meant for him. It is, once again, all about him.

This self-absorption comes over in the captions scattered around the walls. Of the Afghanistan photos he wrote:

I didn’t want to pretend this was about the war in Afghanistan. It was a conscious decision. It comments on the experience of the soldier. It’s about brotherhood.

Not particularly offensive, you might think, but it’s about him and his decision-making. It’s a bit more obvious in another quote:

I became much more interested in the interrelationships between the soldiers and my own relationship to the soldiers than I was in the fighting.

In the Liberia section:

I have no desire to be a kind of war firefighter flying from war zone to war zone.

I do not set out to make a work of journalism but rather a visual novel that draws upon real people and places.

The attitude is best epitomised in this one:

My examination of young men and violence or of young men…it’s as much a journey about my own identity as it is about those young soldiers.

The wall captions tell us that he took many portraits of himself and that he was a prolific diarist, capturing his moods and thoughts and ideas. There’s an electronic version of his last journal which we can read via a touch screen. No surprise, maybe, that a man who was a prolific diarist made a film titled ‘Diary’ of which he wrote:

Diary is a highly personal and experimental film that expresses the subjective experience of my work, and was made as an attempt to locate myself after ten years of reporting.

Even the exhibition curator, Greg Brockett, agrees:

‘In the process of curating this exhibition, and the years I have spent cataloguing and researching Tim Hetherington’s archive, I have discovered just how driven Hetherington was to explore his own fascination with the world through the lens of conflict. I’ve uncovered a depth of personal insight to Hetherington’s character and his thoughtful approach to his work.’

I, I, I – the exhibition overflows with Hetherington’s sense of himself as an artist and maker gifted with particularly fine feelings and a special commitment to the people he photographed and yet … we get almost no sense of the personhood of any of the people he photographed, no names, no sustained engagement with them and little or no analysis of the conflicts he covered.

The amazingly vivid photo of the Liberian fighter looking at us with a hand grenade by his side, it would have been so much more powerful if we’d learned something about his story, his hopes, how he ended up where he is, rather than another sugary quote from Hetherington about his aims as an artist and his never-ending attempts to ‘locate himself’…

The Tim Hetherington cottage industry

A lot of people have taken Hetherington at his word as a mighty photographer and film-maker because, following on from all the self-centred quotes, I was amazed to learn of the small cottage industry which has grown up around him.

A year after his death, in 2013, Hetherington’s parents set up the Tim Hetherington Trust.

In 2013 his buddy Sebastian Junger made a documentary film about him, ‘Which Way Is the Front Line From Here? The Life and Time of Tim Hetherington’ (2013).

 

In 2016 a Tim Hetherington Fellowship was set up by World Press Photo and Human Rights Watch.

In 2016 the Tim Hetherington Photobook Library was set up in the Bronx, New York which appears to simply be all the books he owned when he died, as if they are the sacred relics of a saint.

And in 2017 the Imperial War Museum received the complete Tim Hetherington Archive from the Tim Hetherington Trust and set about ordering and cataloguing them, one result of which was their setting up a Tim Hetherington and Conflict Imagery Research Network.

So Hetherington is not only a famous war photographer and Oscar-nominated film-maker but this exhibition obviously represents the museum’s first opportunity to showcase their (relatively) newly-acquired archive and give it a real splash.

Inevitably, the IWM has also produced a book to accompany the exhibition, Tim Hetherington: IWM Photography Collection on Amazon. One more piece of Hetherington merch to join the photobooks, magazine articles, interviews and documentaries.

After a while I felt positively overloaded with Hetheringtonia, with Hetherington-mania. What will be next? A musical based on his life? Nomination as a saint?

He was a great photographer. He made a vivid war documentary. He talked a very good game in his pukka private school tones (Stonyhurst College and Oxford) and this exhibition is a scholarly, thorough and imaginative (the interactive journal, the cameras) act of respect by the new holders of his archive. But if you want to understand more about the actual conflicts he covered (Liberia, Afghanistan, Libya) and the people affected by them, I don’t think this is the place to do it.


Related links

Related reviews

Imperial War Museum reviews

The Unravelling: High Hopes and Missed Opportunities in Iraq by Emma Sky (2015)

‘The Coalition promised regime change but instead brought about state collapse.’
(Unnamed Iraqi general quoted on page 101)

This is a disappointing book.

Emma Sky is mentioned half a dozen time in Thomas E. Ricks’s book The Gamble: General David Petraeus and the American Military Adventure in Iraq, 2006 to 2008. Her story is extraordinary. Aged 35 she had travelled widely in the Middle East, working for various charities and NGOs. She was working for the British Council back in Blighty when the organisation sent round an email asking if anyone wanted to volunteer to work for the new Coalition Provision Authority (CPA) being set up in the immediate aftermath of the US-led victory over Saddam Hussein in Iraq (May 2003).

Although relying on the authority of the US Army, the CPA itself was an entirely civilian organisation, charged with reconstructing every aspect of Iraqi society, battered by 8 years of war with Iran (1980 to 1988) then 12 years of sanctions after the first Gulf War (1991 to 2003), and then a second bout of disastrously accurate US bombing designed to destroy its infrastructure. The CPA was desperate. Anyone from one of the main allies with experience of working in the Middle East was considered.

Indeed Sky describes the astonishing lack of professionalism about the process whereby she applied, was interviewed, was hired, and found herself on a plane to Baghdad. No-one met her at the airport and when she reported to the ‘Green Zone’ in Baghdad where the new authority was still setting itself up she was casually offered the role of ‘Governorate Coordinator’ of the province of Kirkuk in the north of Iraq, and just as casually accepted it. Within days she found herself based in a military barracks in Kirkuk deep in Iraqi Kurdish territory, one of only a handful of women among over 3,500 US soldiers, and sharing an office with the military commander, Colonel William Mayville of the 173rd Airborne Brigade (p.60).

On pages 17 to 21 Sky gives a potted biography of herself. She came from a broken home whose mother, nonetheless, managed to send her to prep and private school, from where she went on to Oxford and then the British Council. So, poor but pukka. This makes the sequence of events which led to her running an Iraqi province a bit more understandable, but not much.

Little did Emma realise at the time that her destiny was to be intertwined with Iraq for the next ten years nor that she would rise to play a key role as adviser to the head of the US Army in Iraq, General Ray Odierno. To be a bit more precise Emma had two periods of work in Iraq, punctuated by roles elsewhere, before she left altogether to move into academia. Her CV goes something like:

  • 2003 to 2004 Iraq: Governorate Coordinator of Kirkuk
  • 2005 Jerusalem: Political Advisor to General Kip Ward, the US Security Co-ordinator for the Middle East Peace Process
  • 2006 Kabul, Afghanistan: Development Advisor to the Italian and British Commanding Generals of NATO’s International Security Assistance Force
  • 2007 to 2010 Iraq: Political Advisor to US General Raymond T. Odierno, Commanding General of Multi-National Corps; and to General David Petraeus on the subject of reconciliation
  • 2011 to 2012 UK: Visiting Professor at King’s College London and a Fellow at Oxford’s Changing Character of War Programme
  • 2012 America: Senior Fellow at the Yale Jackson School of Global Affairs
  • 2015: Director of the Yale World Fellows international leadership development program

So during her two spells in Iraq, Sky was a central figure. She worked with all the key players on the US side, and met all the powerful Iraqi politicians and religious leaders, as well as countless Iraqis lower down the pecking order, regional administrators, tribal chiefs and so on, right down to the man and woman in the street. She sat in on meetings which made key decisions about Iraq’s future, advised on many of them, had to implement ones she profoundly disagreed with.

It’s a chunky narrative (363 pages), with maps and glossary, which take us from the early days of the occupation in 2003 through to the withdrawal of US troops by President Obama in December 2011 and then through the years of Iraq’s collapse which led to the advent of Islamic State, which rose at great speed to take control of much of northern Iraq by July 2014, which is when Sky’s narrative ends.

Wow. She covers the entire period, she is a clever, independent woman with strong opinions of her own, she isn’t shy about criticising the leaders of the US civilian and military administrations to their faces. She has hundreds of good anecdotes to tell. So why is her book so disappointing?

Two reasons: the flat limited quality of her political analysis, and her pedestrian prose style. Thomas E. Ricks’s highly analytical account of the periods 2003 to 2006 (Fiasco) and 2006 to 2009 (The Gamble) proceeds by ideas or themes. Events out on the street are only mentioned insofar as they influence high-level American political or military policy, which is what Ricks is really interested in.

Sky’s narrative, by contrast, is more like a diary, like the diary of a very clever, independent-minded, sixth form schoolgirl. I did this. Then I did this. I attended dinner with so and so. I met so and so for the first time. Next day we went to meet tribal chiefs. I suggested we set up a committee to ensure better representation / rebuild the economy / provide more schools. That evening there was a formal reception. About this time a religious leader became prominent. I met him at a meeting of tribal chiefs. And so on.

Instead of being arranged by ideas or issue the narrative reads like one damn thing after another. It lacks detachment and analysis, an impression not helped by her often very naive impressions of people. She meets all the key players but her assessments are surprisingly shallow. Ricks portrays all the politicians and religious leaders in post-war Iraq jostling for power, focuses on their roles in Iraq’s poisonous power politics. It’s a rogues gallery of crooks and players. By complete contrast, Sky tells us they’re nice people and have lovely eyes (I’m not kidding, she has a thing about people’s honest trustworthy eyes). She makes friends with lots of leading sheikhs or clerics and is always bursting into tears when it’s time to leave (again I’m not exaggerating; there’s lots of crying).

Her prose style is dead in the water, flat and factual with overtones of The Little House on The Prairie.

We celebrated America’s Independence Day with the Kurds by the shores of Lake Dukan. It was apparently the largest lake in Kurdistan, created by the construction of a dam on the Little Zab River in the 1950s. I sat watching the sun set over the mountains. (p.15)

Or:

In the evenings I would often sit with Colonel Mayville in his office describing the state of the province. Our partnership developed into friendship. To my surprise I found myself growing to like the Colonel as a person and respecting him enormously. I came to realise that behind the bravado was a deep intellect – and a wicked sense of humour. (p.37)

Or:

Kara took me into Kirkuk city one afternoon. We ate in a restaurant and then walked through the market. It felt great to escape the cage from which I viewed Iraq and plunge once more into the Middle East, inhaling deeply the smells of coffee and vegetables, and feasting my eyes on the colours and peoples. (p.61)

‘Wicked sense of humour’, ‘feasting my eyes’. These are magazine clichés and have a cumulatively deadening effect. To quote linguist David Crystal, clichés are phrases which have ‘lost their meaning through overuse. They have become automatic reactions, verbal tics, a replacement for intelligent thinking…’ (The Story of English in 100 Words, 2012).

Every chapter has an epigraph. The epigraph to chapter 1 is: ‘All we are saying is give peace a chance,’ the John Lennon song. I realised at that moment that the narrative was likely to be as obvious and clichéd as that choice of song, and so it turned out.

Moments of thumping obviousness this occur again and again throughout the book and steadily lower your opinion of Sky. She comes over as the kind of person who’d think putting a sign in her office reading ‘Keep calm and drink tea’ was original and funny. Shame. This book cost a lot of money (£10), took 3 or 4 days to read, and wasn’t worth it.

Looking for father figures

In the Ricks book Sky is cited as coming to enormously admire the senior US military personnel she met; in fact she is quoted as saying the US Army is much better than the country it serves. In the hard-headed, cynical context of Ricks’s narrative that feels like an astonishing thing for an outsider, and a pacifist-minded British woman, to say. Unfortunately, once you enter the world of Sky’s narrative with its tendency to gush and hero worship, it doesn’t seem at all surprising.

In this respect I came to realise that the most important fact in the book is when she tells us, really early on in the narrative, that her father left her mother when she was very small. She never knew him, she grew up without a father (p.17). In fact happened not once, but twice. After he biological father walked out her mother fell in love again, and it was this step-father who organised Emma’s education at private schools and then onto Oxford. But while she was at university this step-father ran off with another woman, ‘leaving my mother heartbroken, penniless and distraught’ (p.20). So it happened twice, being abandoned by a father.

I was an only child from a broken-down family. (p.163)

So deep was the wound that she openly tells us it was this that made her, on graduating from university, decide to set out on an adventure to North Africa, ‘to escape the grief and anxiety that family seemed to cause’ (p.20).

I’m not projecting this into her narrative. It’s she herself who devotes several pages right at the start to explaining all this. So it seems pretty reasonable to see these traumatic childhood and teenage experiences as explaining why Sky is so quick to hero worship the big, strong military men she was working with, most of whom are old enough to be, er, her father.

After a while you realise that everywhere she goes, she’s looking for Daddy. Judge for yourself this description of her first meeting with the man who would become the head of the US Army in Iraq:

I could not believe my eyes when I first caught sight of General Odierno. I had never seen such a large human being. He almost seemed a different species. His head was totally shaven. His hands were massive. Yet his face was strangely striking and his eyes were kind. (p.46)

And:

General O was our undisputed boss. He was so big, so confident, so decisive and so determined. I was in awe of him. I thought he was indestructible. As I was sure he could not be killed I felt totally safe when I was with him…(p.163)

And:

I loved travelling with General O and the Sergeant Major. There was so much warmth between the three of us and respect for what we each brought to the mission. (p.171)

And it’s not just big lovable General O. Sky finds father figures everywhere. Take General Mayville.

One evening we went to the local orphanage that we visited from time to time…After the dinner we distributed the presents that had been sent out by the soldiers’ families, keen as ever to support our efforts. It was wonderful to watch the children’s faces light up, loving the attention and gifts. Mayville naturally fell back into the role of father, playing with the kids. (p.74)

Again and again she’s quick to establish father figure-daughter relations with strong or older or important men. Sky’s concern and ability to listen impresses all the Iraqis she comes into contact with (she tells us). But quite often it’s difficult to tell whether she’s being respected or patronised.

Colonel Mayville and I decided in October that it was time to visit [prominent cleric Abdel-Fatah] Mousawi in the al-Husseini Mosque. Sheikh Agar, who frequented the mosque, agreed to take us. He brought me one of his daughter’s abayas and gave it to me as a gift. As we climbed out of the car I covered myself in the abaya, much to everyone’s amusement. Sheikh Agar beamed approval. ‘You are my daughter,’ he said. (p.64)

Or:

Somehow I never felt totally at ease with General Farouq. He kept saying that I was like a daughter to him. (p.192)

Or the extended scene towards the end when it’s announced that General O is being promoted and moving on. He asks about her plans, for example does she intend to marry, have kids maybe, a topic she finds ‘uncomfortable’, maybe because it’s none of his damned business, but also, the Freudian reader by this stage realises, because her unconscious desires (for protection and affection) are projected onto him. ‘He was being all paternal’ (p.341).

Crying

Sky not only converts the men she’s engaging with into father figures, but repeatedly casts herself as a little girl lost. When the tour of duty of the 173rd Airborne Brigade comes to an end and they rotate back to the States, Sky attends the elaborate army ceremony marking the handover to the replacement regiment and makes an emotional speech to the assembled regiment on how much she’s come to respect and admire them all. When their commander, Mayville, shakes her hand and leaves, she is inconsolable with grief. She tells us she spent the entire afternoon crying. Why? Another Daddy has left her (p.89).

Throughout the book this keeps happening; she makes close friends with the locals (pretty much 100% men) or with senior US military figures (all men); then she or they have to leave – when she moves from Kirkuk on to work in Baghdad, or when she leaves Iraq altogether – and there’s lots of crying.

Ismail Abudi came round to see me at the Northern Oil Company in Kirkuk where I was staying the night. We sat on the roof chatting…We discussed the 30 June deadline [when the CPA was due to hand over authority to the Iraqi transitional government]. I told him I would be leaving. ‘No…tell me it is not true,’ he said. We sat on the roof in total darkness with tears streaming down our faces. (p.115)

The Chinook helicopter carrying members of the CPA out of Iraq takes off and:

I had tears streaming down my face. (p.127)

Much later, when she’s leaving for the second time, she goes to visit Sheikh Anwar al-Assi to say goodbye and he tells her to write a book about her experiences. And then:

There were tears in both our eyes when we shook hands. (p.339)

The only woman among men

The other pattern which keeps repeating is the way Sky finds herself the only woman among men. This, also, stems back to her childhood. In that autobiographical sketch she tells us that when she was four her mother got a job as matron at an all-boys preparatory school near Oxford. When she was 7 she was accepted into the school as a boarder, one of only five girls in an all-boys school. When she was ten the stepfather mentioned above entered her life and took her to a new school, The Old Ride, in Bradford-on-Avon. Here she was the only girl at the school (p.17).

She claims to have hated it, saying it was a Lord of the Flies-type experience, with the boys being beastly etc. Nonetheless, it sheds great light on the experience most of this book is dedicated to describing, the way she ‘found herself’ the only woman in a US Army barracks of 3,500 soldiers in the remote north of Iraq, as if this is a completely unexpected surprise instead of, to the Freudian reader, a classic example of a lonely adult seeking to recreate the safe environment of their childhood.

What happens when you are the only woman in a US Army barracks of 3,500 soldiers? You are showered with attention. Lots of big tough men go out of their way to behave chivalrously, open doors, call you ma’am, shower you with attention. You become a very special and notable person.

Same happens when she attends the countless meetings of Kirkuki Arabs or Kurds or Turkmen, Sunni or Shia, religious officials, council meetings, army meetings, and so on: she is again and again the only woman in the room. From time to time she describes this as a great achievement but to the Freudian reader it feels like a situation she has engineered from deep psychological needs. She acquires affectionate nicknames, the Iraqis call her Emmasky, she is effusively greeted and hugged wherever she goes by sheikhs and mullahs.

On one level, obviously this all happened and she (presumably) performed an important function as adviser to the military and civil authorities, first in Kirkuk then in Baghdad. But because she herself has announced the themes of abandonment and loneliness, in some detail, right at the start of the narrative, it is hard not to read the book as the record of a partnerless young woman who again and again places herself in the almost exclusive company of men where she can be made to feel important, and showered with the male love and affection which she completely missed as a child.

I was met at the airport by an Italian colonel who greeted me with a big smile: ‘We are five hundred Italian  men with no women to dance with.’ (p.134)

Thus after her friend Sheikh Agar is assassinated, she attends the funeral and goes on to describe the way she has been virtually adopted by his family:

As I walked in I heard the whisper, ‘Emmasky has come’ being passed down the line. I spoke to the sons. The younger one, who I had often seen around the government building, had aged years. ‘Allah yarhamu,’ (May God have mercy on him), ‘Inna lillali wa inna ilaihi raji’un‘ (We are all from God and to him we return). Family members spoke to me. ‘You are our sister.’ ‘You are my brother’s daughter’. Sheikh Agar, bless him, had told all his family about me. And they were touched I had made the journey from Baghdad to pay my respects. Grief lay heavy in the air. I sat in the tent, the sole woman among so many men. (p.106)

This is just one of the surrogate families she is seeking in order to make up for the one she never knew in childhood:

I was on General O’s team. And no matter how badly we disagreed or argued he was not going to throw me out. This was a family that worked through its problems and did not break down. (p.197)

And so when her second tour of duty as adviser to General Odierno comes to an end, at the end of December 2007, there is the characteristic departure ceremony, with speeches and presents, during which Odierno very graciously thanks Emma for all her help and advice.

His loyalty towards me was extraordinary. And I knew, if ever called on again, I would follow him to the ends of the world – and that he would listen to my advice on how to get there.

Odierno is Emma’s Super Daddy. Then it’s her turn to make a speech, telling the assembled soldiers it had been an honour and privilege to be part of their team. And inside she knew:

I meant it. Amid the horror of war, I had experienced more love and camaraderie than I had ever known. (p.241)

When she has her second farewell, because she’s not just leaving Iraq, the Americans are leaving Iraq, and so she attends the passing out parade held by General O, at which he gives a long heartfelt speech to the assembled troops, then:

A long line had gathered to shake General O’s hand and say goodbye. I hung around saying my farewells to the military men who had made me feel so much one of their band of brothers. (p.342)

Solecisms

This is trivial, really, but your faith in her narrative is frequently rocked by small but symptomatic mistakes in English phraseology. Here she is describing how you ought to avoid a particular seat in an American military helicopter, the one right by the open door which is nicknamed the ‘hurricane seat’:

Whoever sat in the back right seat would have the wind soar through their face, with cheeks and mouth flapping furiously. (p.30)

‘Soar through their face’?

Then again

Then again let’s stop and take stock: Sky is a bureaucrat and maybe this is how effective bureaucrats think and write – in stock formulae, obvious clichés, with a shaky grasp of English. Thomas E. Ricks is a journalist, so he’s paid to make stories sound gripping and important, he’s paid above all to write. Sky is a bureaucrat: her job is to invite people to committee meetings, distribute the agenda, manage relationships with key stakeholders, maintain the organisation’s values, defuse confrontations, find negotiating positions. In other words, her job is to use the safe and uncontroversial language of large organisations, not to rattle cages, to soothe ruffled feathers, to seek consensus, not to stand out or be original.

Having worked in UK government departments and agencies for 15 years or so, I recognise the type and recognise the tone of voice, full of terms borrowed from the private sector – where they mean something – and imported into the public sector where they are neutered of all meaning and verve.

Thus Sky tells us that she held a series of meetings with a view to improving the ethnic balance of the Provincial Council – fair enough – but when she goes on to tell us that ‘”No change” was not an option’ you can hear the tone of the civil servant or bureaucrat, quietly priding themselves on their no-nonsense attitude and tough talk.

In reality Sky seems to have been a people person. Her key achievements aren’t setting up this or that committee (though the narrative is larded with references to them) but getting people to trust her. The stories about local leaders accepting her as family, welcoming them to meals, festivals or funerals which I’ve cited, and more like them, testify to what seems to have been her key skill: this was getting suspicious people, in very perilous situations, to trust her sufficiently that they could talk to her, make their demands clear, and then she work her magic at getting the cumbersome CPA or the military-civilian government which replaced it, to actually accede to these Iraqis’ requests and get them what they want. At which point they trust her even more, and decide to try to get their way without resorting to violence.

In this way, as the narrative develops, Sky becomes a kind of one-woman embodiment of the policy of Reconciliation which accompanied the US military surge in 2007.

And seen from this angle, her readiness to fall into father-daughter relationships with important men was a positive asset, because strong men let their guards down around their daughters, share their feelings and wishes, admit their weaknesses and worries a bit more than they would around rivalrous sons, especially in a very traditional, patriarchal society like Iraq.

Maybe she tells us about her broken family background right at the start, and drops scenes of older men hugging her and calling her their daughter throughout the narrative, because she knows that this – above and beyond all the day-to-day admin and bureaucracy and setting up meetings and getting former enemies to talk – was her secret superpower.

Factual learnings

Lack of native politicians

America was always going to struggle to find politicians and administrators to step into the vacuum they created by ousting Saddam and banning the Ba’ath Party. Most of Iraq’s educated middle class had long since fled the country and had no wish to return. Or Saddam had killed them. He took great care to wipe out potential leaders who rose to prominent in any of the country’s many ethnic or religious minorities or among his own minority Sunni community (p.49).

Debaathification

Sky repeats the account of Ricks and every other reporter, that Paul Bremer’s rash decision to ban all members of the Baath Party from holding any official position ever again in effect decapitated Iraqi government at every level, made it very difficult indeed to find new people with authority or experience to run anything, and turned hundreds of thousands of clever, educated people against the occupiers.

The Kurdish return

Sky arrives in Kirkuk to find the Arabs very pissed off indeed at what they saw as the Kurdish takeover of every level of the administration. Many Sunni Arab families had received cash incentives from Saddam to settle in the north under his policy designed to water down the Kurdish majority (10,000 dinars, p.350). These were referred to as ‘new Arabs’. But now they found the police run by Kurds, local councils run by Kurds, Kurds who had left decades previously being offered incentives to return etc. So many of the new Arabs were looking to allies across the border in Syria to help them. Arab resentment of the Kurds is the persistent theme of the first 100-plus pages of the book, covering her time in Kirkuk, and carrying through to the very last pages, where she revisits a resurgent Kurdish region in 2014.

The sectarianism of Nouri al-Maliki

Sunni leaders were convinced that Nouri al-Maliki’s government was not only dominated by Shias (after all, Iraq as a whole has a Shia majority) but included Shia figures who had spent their exile from Saddam in Iran and were thought to be actively working for Iran. Not only that, but there was evidence al-Maliki protected the firebrand Shia cleric Muqtada al-Sadr, figurehead of the murderous Jaysh al-Mahdi or Mahdi Army or Badr Corps. (On page 253 she describes al-Sadr as ‘rash and irascible’, on the next page refers to his many psychological problems.) If the book has one thread it’s the growing authoritarianism and unpopularity of Maliki which goes hand in hand with the Obama administration’s bad decision to give him their full backing.

The extremists overplay their hands

This explains why many in the Sunni community not only joined the insurgency against the American occupying forces, but also tacitly or actively supported al Qaeda in Iraq when they began recruiting and operating in Sunni areas. However, during 2006 into 2007 al Qaeda overplayed its hand and began killing Sunni leaders who opposed them. When, as part of the so-called surge, US forces made it clear they would amnesty Sunni insurgents who had been fighting them, and even set up a scheme to pay them to join local ‘citizen defence forces’, many Sunni fighters decided they preferred this option and turned on al Qaeda who, as a result, escalated their atrocities, which in turn brought more fence-sitting Sunnis into the process of Reconciliation.

Something similar happened on the Shia side. Sky reports being surprised when al-Sadr announced a ceasefire of his forces against the US and Iraqi Army but it was at least in part because many on his own Shia side had become sick of the violence the Shia militias brought and the apparently endless round of  Shia attacks and reprisals either by US forces or Sunni insurgents. Sky describes the process with characteristic brevity i.e. in not enough detail, on page 238.

The surge

Other factors were at work too, such as 1) the huge shift in attitude among the US Army to the new mode of counterinsurgency, as described in such detail by Thomas E. Ricks, by the change in policy to break up America’s supercamps and set up small operating outposts embedded within towns and cities and communities. Also 2) the fact that the US government finally saw sense, realised they didn’t have enough boots on the ground, and allowed an additional 20,000 soldiers to be sent to Iraq.

British embarrassment

On page 232 she describes the British Chief of the Defence Staff, Sir Jock Stirrup, in a meeting with General Odierno, and visibly embarrassed that the British more or less gave up in Iraq while the Americans persisted and, despite their ongoing losses, were able to learn and change their tactics. (Read Frank Ledwidge’s book ‘Losing Small Wars: British Military Failure in the 9/11 Wars for a searing indictment of the British failure in Iraq.)

Terrible Iraqi politicians

Maybe so many of these countries are doomed because their leaders are blinkered and inept; their political class is irredeemably useless, incompetent and corrupt. This isn’t my view, it’s what many Iraqis say. Sky’s friend Abu Mohamed marvels at the way General Petraeus walked with them on a visit through the streets of a town named Jihad, not wearing body armour, talking to children, taking Iraqi dinars from his own pockets to pay for things in the market. Very clever, very savvy public relations, all of which leads a doleful Mohamed to conclude:

‘We don’t have leaders like that in Iraq.’ (p.250)

Other Iraqis make the same point. Abdul-Rahman Mustafa, former governor of Kirkuk, says:

‘Despite all the resources nothing gets done. Iraq is still going backwards. It is hard to see how the country will stay unified with such politicians in power. Iraq has good people but bad politicians.’ (p.354)

If your political class thinks only in terms of power grabs for themselves and their faction, your national politics will remain fractious. If, as soon as anyone gets power, they set about securing it for themselves, their family and clan, going to the extent of threatening and sometimes murdering rivals, then the only was a war of all-against-all can be brought to an end is by a very strong man, by authoritarian rule, by dictatorship. Which is what keeps happening again and again in Arab countries.

Iraqi politicians the problem not the solution

The American government kept hoping that once the level of violence had been brought down to an acceptable level, it would create the ‘political space’ in which Iraqi politicians could agree national plans of reconciliation and reconstruction. What the Americans were slow to grasp was that all the politicians put themselves and their tribes first and national Iraqi interest a long way second. In fact, many of the politicians were behind the violence the Americans were trying to control. They were using it to rally their own ethnic or religious communities behind them, to create followers and voting blocs to keep themselves in power. Rather as the nationalist leaders in Yugoslavia rallied their own communities and demonised other ethnicities, in order to remain in power (p.257).

Hollywood thinking

Mind you, the Americans have plenty of blind spots of their own. Sky puts into words something I noticed in Michael Ignatieff and Anthony Loyd’s accounts of former Yugoslavia and Ricks’s of Iraq which is that senior American politicians and military leaders have an astonishingly simplistic, black-and-white view of the world. They think in terms of the Good Guys and the Bad Guys, as if life was a Western, or a Hollywood movie. Bush and Cheney and Rumsfeld-level leaders are quoted talking about getting ‘the bad guys’ and helping ‘the good guys’. This incredibly naive way of thinking explains why it took the Americans at least 4 years to understand the polyphonic, multi-stranded political, ethnic and religious situation in post-Saddam Iraq, which was not only complex in itself, but continually shifting (p.230). Where are the good guys, they kept asking? But what if there aren’t any good guys?

This explains something else which is the mistaken belief that if you take out the top ‘bad guy’ you solve the problem. This betrays a complete failure to grasp that societies are complex entities made out of multiple tribes and ethnicities and religious groupings, regions and classes. The Americans were hampered by this simplistic Hollywood thinking right from the start when they thought all they had to do was overthrow the bad guy, Saddam Hussein, and Iraq would promptly turn into a shiny modern democracy like France or Germany. World class idiocy. Breath-taking stupidity and ignorance.

The same magical thinking was revealed in their over-excitement at the assassination of Osama bin-Laden, the same naive belief that if you take out the so-called leader of ‘the bad guys’ then everything will be alright. Whereas, of course a) by 2011 (the year he was assassinated), bin Laden had become irrelevant to the situation in both Iraq and the wider Middle East, which remained as fractious, unstable and violent as ever and b) al Qaeda has gone from strength to strength after his death, extending its reach far across North Africa.

Fear

Fundamentally, what drives the desperation of so many of the politicians in these countries to stay in power at absolutely any cost, is fear of what will happen to them and their people once they lose power. Arrest, exile, prison, execution is the all-too-common fate of political leaders in developing countries once they leave office. In countries like this you don’t cling on to power to serve; you cling on to power to protect yourself and your clients and lackeys from what will happen once you lose it. Fear is the key to the entire political system. Thus:

Even before the last [American] soldier had departed [at the end of 2011] Maliki had launched a political coup aimed at crushing Iraqiya. (p.345)

And Maliki proceeds to arrest, intimidate, threaten or drive into exile most of his political opponents (detailed list on page 360). Abdul-Rahman Mustafa again:

‘[The Americans] should not have tried to transplant Western democracy to Iraq. It is not possible. Iraq is not a democracy. Change takes time. There are no democrats in Iraq.’ (p.358)

Betrayal by Obama and Biden

The most surprising thing about the book is its finale. Sky comes down heavily against President Barack Obama and his Vice-President Joe Biden. Parliamentary elections were held in Iraq on 7 March 2010 to decide the 325 members of the Council of Representatives who would elect the prime minister and president. However, the elections didn’t show a clear winner and so negotiations for those posts proved fraught with tension and delay. A final decision wasn’t taken till November of the same year – after eight months of divisive, sectarian bickering and intimidation.

Sky’s claim is that Obama’s regime, its ambassador and envoys, proved inept at managing the situation. They seemed unaware of Iran’s growing influence in the country, and sitting Prime Minister Nouri Al-Maliki’s tendency throughout the year to become more sectarianly Shia, more prone to Iranian influence, and more authoritarian. Sky meets opposition politicians who are scared that they will be arrested, even tortured by Maliki’s security services.

And yet it was this creepy figure, Maliki, who the Americans now threw their weight behind. Obama had been elected president in November 2008, took office in January 2009, and ratified the deal signed by George W. Bush to withdraw all US troops by the end of 2011. As the Iraqi politicians dragged out the backroom wheeling and dealing about the next Prime Minister for most of 2010 Obama became impatient. He was facing mid-term elections for Congress in November and wanted a foreign policy win.

Thus it was expedient, it was the simplest thing, just to confirm Maliki in the post of Prime Minister which he already held. Thus it was that the US administration averted its gaze from Maliki’s worrying tendencies, including the embarrassing fact that Maliki was Iran’s favourite candidate to continue as Prime Minister, given that the leaders of the other parties were Sunnis.

And so it was that during Joe Biden’s flying visit to Iraq in November 2010, Sky is in the room, and at the table, and makes several attempts to get Biden to change the administration’s approach. She then accompanies him to a meeting with senior members of the Iraqiya party, a secular and diverse grouping more appropriate than Maliki’s State of Law Party. by her account Sleepy Joe Biden was already gaga, repeating an utterly inappropriate anecdote about his Irish grandfather who grew up hating the British and then applying it to the attending notables, as if it somehow shed light on the sectarian problems of Iraq. After Biden finally tottered out some of the Iraqiya Party asked Sky what he’d been on about.

Biden was a nice man but he simply had the wrong instincts on Iraq. If only Obama had paid attention to Iraq. He, more than anyone, would understand the complexity of identities and how people can change. But his only interest in Iraq was in ending the war.

I felt sad, angry and very afraid for Iraq’s future. Washington had reneged on the promises it had made to Iraqis to protect the political process and it had betrayed the very principles the US military believed it was fighting to uphold. (p.338)

Summary

As a personal memoir of a unique experience, The Unravelling is possibly, maybe, an acceptable read. But if you want to understand how the war came about, why it went so badly wrong, and how the Americans struggled to fix a terrible situation, forget it. Read Fiasco and The Gamble. Read Frank Ledwidge and Jack Fairweather.

The looting

Concrete example of Sky’s inadequate treatment: on page 98 Sky deals, in one sentence, with the central fact that the occupying forces left a security and policing vacuum right at the start, immediately after the Iraqi army had surrendered, and that the CPA was never able to recover from that initial loss of initiative and control. One sentence! Ricks devotes half his book to this fact, explaining why it came about, how it manifested itself in the first days and weeks, what the full political, military and social consequences were, returning to them again and again to give you an ever-deepening understanding of this catastrophic failure. But in Sky, just one sentence.

Abu Ghraib

Similarly, Sky records in her characteristic schoolgirl diary way, a visit with other CPA staff to Abu Ghraib prison after the photos were leaked and the scandal broke. Here is her analysis in its entirety:

At Abu Ghraib I saw evidence of the worst side of human nature. With weak supervision in the jail, a number of American soldiers had used their power to create a perverse world, breaking the monotony of their days with sadistic acts on detainees under their control. It was truly sickening. Abu Ghraib was one of those places that exuded evil. (p.94)

This is a wholly inadequate analysis, in fact no analysis at all, it’s just a comment by a tourist. By contrast, Ricks gives a detailed explanation of the complex causes of the scandal, the two most notable ones being: 1) the huge numbers of ‘insurgents’ some American forces were rounding up and indiscriminately sending to prison, instead  of questioning, assessing and probably releasing most of them in their own provinces; and 2) Donald Rumsfeld’s obsession with keeping the number of US forces cut to the bare minimum and his express refusal to send out enough US military police properly trained in running prisons. In their absence, inexperienced managers and completely untrained junior soldiers were lumbered with  a job they didn’t know how to do, with the disastrous outcome the whole world got to see.

Ricks’s account is thorough, well researched, fascinating in its own right, and an illuminating insight into the importance of properly running prisons and interrogation facilities during a conflict. Sky – a one-page description of a tourist visit and a Daily Mail-level comment.

She was there. She worked with the key players. She got to know the country and the situation. And yet her analysis repeatedly feels inadequate and superficial. Making lots of lovely friends and repeatedly bursting into tears is sweet but no replacement for analysis.


Credit

The Unravelling: High Hopes and Missed Opportunities in Iraq by Emma Sky was published by Atlantic Books in 2015. References are to the 2016 paperback edition.

Related link

New world disorder reviews