Blackwater USA

[UCLAri]

<p>So I just read an article on Wired, and guess what?</p>

<p>Blackwater’s in Japan, too! Hooray!</p>

<p>"The guns-for-hire at Blackwater don’t just roam the streets of Baghdad and New Orleans. Turns out, they’re in Japan, too – protecting the country’s controversial ballistic missile defense systems. </p>

<p>In Shariki, a tiny village near the Sea of Japan, about 100 government contractors work withAN/TPY-2 radar, “which points high-powered radio waves westward toward mainland Asia to hunt for enemy missiles headed east toward America or its allies,” according to Stars & Stripes. "</p>

<p>:rolleyes:</p>

[k_amp_s]

<p>

According to Erik Prince, they’re not mercenaries, but “loyal Americans.”

</p>

<p>I never realized that Aussies, South Africans, etc. counted as “loyal Americans”?</p>

<p>

And in that hush lies a clue to this African nation’s murky and angst-ridden participation in America’s military adventure in the Middle East: Durant is one of thousands of South African police officers and soldiers, most of them white veterans of the old apartheid regime, who have left their jobs to work as private security contractors in Iraq – a semiclandestine exodus of hired guns that has alternately embarrassed and alarmed the pacifist government here.</p>

<p>“Maybe in the States soldiers’ wives can talk about these things to ease their loss,” said Lourika Durant, who has kept a low profile for months not only to safeguard negotiations for her kidnapped husband’s release, but because of the stigma attached to operatives who freelance in a war deeply unpopular in South Africa. “Here we must suffer alone, without making waves.”</p>

<p>And as the war grinds through its fifth year, there is growing concern that Iraq’s drain on skilled police and military personnel may be crippling the nation’s elite security services. Local media reports warn that tactical police units in major cities are being thinned by the stampede of officers to Baghdad. And a former South African military officer who runs his own security firm conceded that most of the nation’s best special forces trainers now are on the U.S. contracting payroll in Iraq.

</p>

<p><a href=“http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/nationworld/chi-mercenaries_salopek_bdoct07,1,2988737.story[/url]”>http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/nationworld/chi-mercenaries_salopek_bdoct07,1,2988737.story&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;

<p>And here’s a first hand account of Blackwater.</p>

<p>

I survived Blackwater
A former U.S. official received the security company’s services – and witnessed its disregard for Iraqi lives.
By Janessa Gans</p>

<p>October 6, 2007</p>

<p>When the Iraqi government last month demanded the expulsion of Blackwater USA, the private security firm, I had one reaction: It’s about time. </p>

<p>As a U.S. official in Baghdad for nearly two years, I was frequently the “beneficiary” of Blackwater’s over-the-top zeal. “Just pretend it’s a roller coaster,” I used to tell myself during trips through downtown Baghdad. </p>

<p>We would careen around corners, jump road dividers, reach speeds in excess of 100 mph and often cross over to the wrong side of the street, oncoming traffic be damned. </p>

<p>But much more appalling than the ride was the deleterious effect each movement through town had on the already beleaguered people of Iraq. I began to wonder whether my meetings, intended to further U.S. policy goals and improve the lives of Iraqis, were doing more harm than good. With our drivers honking at, cutting off, pelting with water bottles (a favorite tactic) and menacing with weapons anyone in their way, how many enemies were we creating? </p>

<p>One particularly infuriating time, I was in the town of Irbil in northern Iraq, being driven to a meeting with a Kurdish political leader. We were on a narrow stretch of highway with no shoulders and foot-high barriers on both sides. The lead Suburban in our convoy loomed up behind an old, puttering sedan driven by an older man with a young woman and three children. </p>

<p>As we approached at typical breakneck speed, the Blackwater driver honked furiously and motioned to the side, as if they should pull over. The kids in the back seat looked back in horror, mouths agape at the sight of the heavily armored Suburbans driven by large, armed men in dark sunglasses. The poor Iraqi driver frantically searched for a means of escape, but there was none. So the lead Blackwater vehicle smashed heedlessly into the car, pushing it into the barrier. We zoomed by too quickly to notice if anyone was hurt. </p>

<p>Until that point I had never mentioned anything to my drivers about their tactics, but this time I could not contain myself. </p>

<p>“Where do you all expect them to go?” I shrieked. “It was an old guy and a family, for goodness’ sake. Was it necessary for them to destroy their poor old car?”</p>

<p>My driver responded impassively: “Ma’am, we’ve been trained to view anyone as a potential threat. You don’t know who they might use as decoys or what the risks are. Terrorists could be disguised as anyone.”</p>

<p>“Well, if they weren’t terrorists before, they certainly are now!” I retorted. Sulking in my seat, I was stunned by the driver’s indifference. </p>

<p>The Iraqis with whom I dealt quickly learned to differentiate between the U.S. military and private contractors. The military has established rules of engagement, plus it is required to pay compensation for damages (though it is a difficult and bureaucratic process). Blackwater seemed to have no such rules, paid no compensation and, per long-standing Coalition Provisional Authority fiat, had immunity from prosecution under Iraqi law. </p>

<p>As we do the work of bridge building and improving our host citizens’ lives, if the people providing our transportation and security are antagonizing, angering and even killing the people we are putatively trying to help, our entire mission is undermined.</p>

<p>Janessa Gans, a visiting political science professor at Principia College, was a U.S. official in Iraq from 2003 to 2005.

</p>

<p>Not to mention that our govt. has put shady arms dealers on its payroll – including arms dealers who have armed enemies of the US.</p>

<p>

For Balkan Shipping Agent, War Is Good for Business
By NICHOLAS WOOD</p>

<p>NIS, Serbia — For the past four years Tomislav Damnjanovic has played a crucial role in the United States’ wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Since 2003, he has delivered millions of rounds of ammunition, guns, grenades and mortars to the governments of Iraq and Afghanistan, United Nations officials say, facts he does not dispute. His aircraft have even been used to shuttle supplies between American bases in Iraq, saving troops from having to make hazardous trips by land. </p>

<p>But it was not always so. </p>

<p>For Mr. Damnjanovic, the work has been an unexpected twist in a career dominated not by serving American interests, but by dodging law enforcement agencies, and by smuggling weapons to American opponents and countries under United Nations sanctions, like Libya, and to other parts of Africa.</p>

<p>He also admits to being a crucial part of a sophisticated cigarette-smuggling operation in Europe that was backed by the former Yugoslav president Slobodan Milosevic, which cost European taxpayers millions of dollars in unpaid revenues. </p>

<p>The details of a career that goes back over 15 years have been slowly unfolding, as United Nations investigators and, most recently, a group of researchers financed by the United Nations in Belgrade have pieced together flight plans, manifests and bank accounts, as well as what they say are falsified documents. </p>

<p>Despite his bonanza with his newfound American partners, the investigators allege that Mr. Damnjanovic, who is based in Belgrade, has continued to flout United Nations sanctions, supplying weapons to an Islamist group in Somalia that the United States says is linked to Al Qaeda. As with all other accusations of illegal dealings, Mr. Damnjanovic denied any involvement.

</p>