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Can General Linder’s Special Operations Forces Stop the Next Terrorist Threat? Can General Linder’s Special Operations Forces Stop the Next Terrorist Threat?
(about 7 hours later)
On a searing morning this spring, Brig. Gen. James B. Linder leaned against the red-webbing seats of a C-130 as it flew over the Sahara. On his camouflaged knee, he balanced two dog-eared Moleskine notebooks and a map of Africa. Linder, who is in his early 50s, commands the United States Special Operations forces in Africa. He was on his way to visit a detachment of 12 Army Green Berets training with African troops to fight Al Qaeda and its affiliates in Niger. Through the plane’s scratched plexiglass portholes, dunes crested like waves in an ocean of sand, and hot blasts of wind buffeted the fuselage. An hour’s flight to the south, his team of Special Forces was deployed along the Nigerian border, where the militant group Boko Haram was targeting children in its bid to establish an Islamic state.On a searing morning this spring, Brig. Gen. James B. Linder leaned against the red-webbing seats of a C-130 as it flew over the Sahara. On his camouflaged knee, he balanced two dog-eared Moleskine notebooks and a map of Africa. Linder, who is in his early 50s, commands the United States Special Operations forces in Africa. He was on his way to visit a detachment of 12 Army Green Berets training with African troops to fight Al Qaeda and its affiliates in Niger. Through the plane’s scratched plexiglass portholes, dunes crested like waves in an ocean of sand, and hot blasts of wind buffeted the fuselage. An hour’s flight to the south, his team of Special Forces was deployed along the Nigerian border, where the militant group Boko Haram was targeting children in its bid to establish an Islamic state.
“My job is to look at Africa and see where the threat to the United States is,” Linder said as he unfolded his map and traced circles around the territories where he knew extremist groups were operating. “I see Al Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb, the Libyan problem set, Al Shabab in Somalia, Boko Haram in Nigeria, Ansar al-Sharia in Tunisia, Benghazi and Darna.”“My job is to look at Africa and see where the threat to the United States is,” Linder said as he unfolded his map and traced circles around the territories where he knew extremist groups were operating. “I see Al Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb, the Libyan problem set, Al Shabab in Somalia, Boko Haram in Nigeria, Ansar al-Sharia in Tunisia, Benghazi and Darna.”
The United States Africa Command, known as Africom, was established in 2007 but stepped up its operations after the Arab Spring uprisings in 2011, when the overthrow of dictatorships from Tunisia to Libya to Egypt allowed militants and criminal networks to spread. In 2012, Al Qaeda and its affiliates seized control of Northern Mali and held a territory the size of Texas for nearly a year. With American support, French and Chadian forces managed to dislodge them, but they are still active in the region. In 2013, some 30 militants took over the Tigantourine gas facility in Algeria and killed 39 hostages. That same year, Somali militants raided the Westgate shopping center in Kenya’s capital, leaving 67 dead.The United States Africa Command, known as Africom, was established in 2007 but stepped up its operations after the Arab Spring uprisings in 2011, when the overthrow of dictatorships from Tunisia to Libya to Egypt allowed militants and criminal networks to spread. In 2012, Al Qaeda and its affiliates seized control of Northern Mali and held a territory the size of Texas for nearly a year. With American support, French and Chadian forces managed to dislodge them, but they are still active in the region. In 2013, some 30 militants took over the Tigantourine gas facility in Algeria and killed 39 hostages. That same year, Somali militants raided the Westgate shopping center in Kenya’s capital, leaving 67 dead.
These attacks underscore how the threat to U.S. interests has shifted from Iraq and Afghanistan to Yemen and Africa. Linder arrived at Africom just after the storming of the diplomatic mission in Benghazi, Libya, in 2012. “Instability in Libya is causing a lot of the instability in West Africa,” he said. But it isn’t simply a matter of dots on a map. “I see the enemy, and then I look for connective tissue.” With his index finger, he traced how the conflicts in Libya and Syria are flooding Africa to the south with weapons and fighters. “Foreign fighters coming out of Syria are a serious problem,” he added. As terrorists move around and try to build networks between cells and like-minded organizations, Linder looks to break them apart.These attacks underscore how the threat to U.S. interests has shifted from Iraq and Afghanistan to Yemen and Africa. Linder arrived at Africom just after the storming of the diplomatic mission in Benghazi, Libya, in 2012. “Instability in Libya is causing a lot of the instability in West Africa,” he said. But it isn’t simply a matter of dots on a map. “I see the enemy, and then I look for connective tissue.” With his index finger, he traced how the conflicts in Libya and Syria are flooding Africa to the south with weapons and fighters. “Foreign fighters coming out of Syria are a serious problem,” he added. As terrorists move around and try to build networks between cells and like-minded organizations, Linder looks to break them apart.
“We have a real global threat,” Linder continued. “The problems in Africa are going to land on our doorstep if we’re not careful.” Linder opened one of his battered notebooks and riffled through a stack of graphs and statistics he clipped from The Economist and other publications. He pulled out an international flight schedule. “From Nigeria to the United States, there are eight direct flights a week.” Boko Haram hadn’t yet succeeded in wreaking much havoc beyond Nigeria’s borders, but had signaled their intent to do so. In July 2010, their leader, Abubakar Shekau, declared the group’s allegiance to Al Qaeda and said to America: “Jihad has just begun.”“We have a real global threat,” Linder continued. “The problems in Africa are going to land on our doorstep if we’re not careful.” Linder opened one of his battered notebooks and riffled through a stack of graphs and statistics he clipped from The Economist and other publications. He pulled out an international flight schedule. “From Nigeria to the United States, there are eight direct flights a week.” Boko Haram hadn’t yet succeeded in wreaking much havoc beyond Nigeria’s borders, but had signaled their intent to do so. In July 2010, their leader, Abubakar Shekau, declared the group’s allegiance to Al Qaeda and said to America: “Jihad has just begun.”
Linder swept his palm over the map from Latin America to Africa and onto Europe. All three were increasingly linked through illegal trafficking in cocaine, weapons and people. As avenues for drug smuggling closed down in Europe, they opened up in Africa along some of the world’s oldest trade routes, where Boko Haram and Al Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb meet. Smugglers made deals with militants to protect their trafficking routes and their product. “Thirteen percent of the European cocaine trade flows through Africa,” Linder read. “That’s about $4.2 billion a year.”Linder swept his palm over the map from Latin America to Africa and onto Europe. All three were increasingly linked through illegal trafficking in cocaine, weapons and people. As avenues for drug smuggling closed down in Europe, they opened up in Africa along some of the world’s oldest trade routes, where Boko Haram and Al Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb meet. Smugglers made deals with militants to protect their trafficking routes and their product. “Thirteen percent of the European cocaine trade flows through Africa,” Linder read. “That’s about $4.2 billion a year.”
A gentleman farmer from Fort Lawn, S.C., Linder speaks with a drawl that does little to soften the blade of his critical intelligence. He also speaks with the precision of a man used to giving orders and having them followed. Before taking up his post at Africom, he educated himself on the countless problems facing the continent. “I went around Washington to three-letter agencies and asked people how they saw Africa. Some saw Africa through a lens of AIDS, others through climate change.” All of these require serious attention, he said. “On time-lapse satellite imagery, you literally can watch the desert moving south.”A gentleman farmer from Fort Lawn, S.C., Linder speaks with a drawl that does little to soften the blade of his critical intelligence. He also speaks with the precision of a man used to giving orders and having them followed. Before taking up his post at Africom, he educated himself on the countless problems facing the continent. “I went around Washington to three-letter agencies and asked people how they saw Africa. Some saw Africa through a lens of AIDS, others through climate change.” All of these require serious attention, he said. “On time-lapse satellite imagery, you literally can watch the desert moving south.”
Linder is “myopically focused” on seeing the continent through the lens of threat: “Africa is the battleground of the future.” The future of war is about winning people, not territory, he explained. Nowhere is this truer than in Africa, where most national boundaries began as lines drawn on colonial maps and make little sense in terms of tribal allegiances or religious affiliations. Terrorists pay no attention to national borders, so combating them requires leaving behind an outmoded view of nation-on-nation warfare.Linder is “myopically focused” on seeing the continent through the lens of threat: “Africa is the battleground of the future.” The future of war is about winning people, not territory, he explained. Nowhere is this truer than in Africa, where most national boundaries began as lines drawn on colonial maps and make little sense in terms of tribal allegiances or religious affiliations. Terrorists pay no attention to national borders, so combating them requires leaving behind an outmoded view of nation-on-nation warfare.
Linder turned to the notebook in his lap. He’d scrawled some statistics on the inside cover: Africa’s current population of one billion was projected to double by 2050. By then, nearly one in four people on the planet will be an African. “In Africa, it’s never about seizing terrain,” he said. “Tanks won’t get us there. Jet planes won’t get us there. Massive naval armadas won’t get us there.”Linder turned to the notebook in his lap. He’d scrawled some statistics on the inside cover: Africa’s current population of one billion was projected to double by 2050. By then, nearly one in four people on the planet will be an African. “In Africa, it’s never about seizing terrain,” he said. “Tanks won’t get us there. Jet planes won’t get us there. Massive naval armadas won’t get us there.”
The shift in American military strategy from huge, expensive weaponry to a lighter, more flexible approach reflects a sharp decline in the American appetite for foreign engagement. The wars in Iraq and Afghanistan have left nearly 7,000 Americans dead and carried an estimated price tag of $4 trillion to $6 trillion. Conventional warfare is viewed by many Americans as too costly. As a whole, the military has moved away from deploying large numbers of troops and now favors targeted action like drones and raids. Increasingly, it is looking for ways to deploy groups like Linder’s: small teams of men, in fleece jackets and sneakers, quietly fanning out across the African continent. On any given day, there are 700 Special Forces in Africa, part of a larger U.S. military presence that ranges from 5,000 to 8,000 people on the ground. These Special Operations teams, which can be as small as one commando, deliver aid to places where it has generally been too risky to dig wells or hand out eyeglasses, don ties to work at U.S. Embassies and train with African commandos. They also coordinate with the diplomatic corps of the U.S. government and Africom. They are adaptable enough to shift as the nature of the threat shifts, fighting the kind of asymmetrical warfare that special operators have been fighting since World War II. “This is what S.O.F. is trained to do,” Linder said. “This is why they built us.”The shift in American military strategy from huge, expensive weaponry to a lighter, more flexible approach reflects a sharp decline in the American appetite for foreign engagement. The wars in Iraq and Afghanistan have left nearly 7,000 Americans dead and carried an estimated price tag of $4 trillion to $6 trillion. Conventional warfare is viewed by many Americans as too costly. As a whole, the military has moved away from deploying large numbers of troops and now favors targeted action like drones and raids. Increasingly, it is looking for ways to deploy groups like Linder’s: small teams of men, in fleece jackets and sneakers, quietly fanning out across the African continent. On any given day, there are 700 Special Forces in Africa, part of a larger U.S. military presence that ranges from 5,000 to 8,000 people on the ground. These Special Operations teams, which can be as small as one commando, deliver aid to places where it has generally been too risky to dig wells or hand out eyeglasses, don ties to work at U.S. Embassies and train with African commandos. They also coordinate with the diplomatic corps of the U.S. government and Africom. They are adaptable enough to shift as the nature of the threat shifts, fighting the kind of asymmetrical warfare that special operators have been fighting since World War II. “This is what S.O.F. is trained to do,” Linder said. “This is why they built us.”
Linder has appeared on every significant battleground of the last 30 years — Central and South America, Afghanistan, Iraq, the Philippines and Africa. His military career parallels America’s deployment of Special Operations forces in the post-World War II era. Like many operators of his generation, Linder served in the jungles of Colombia, where he searched for Pablo Escobar, the cartel leader who walked out of his self-appointed luxury prison in 1992. “All the guard towers faced out,” Linder said with a smile.Linder has appeared on every significant battleground of the last 30 years — Central and South America, Afghanistan, Iraq, the Philippines and Africa. His military career parallels America’s deployment of Special Operations forces in the post-World War II era. Like many operators of his generation, Linder served in the jungles of Colombia, where he searched for Pablo Escobar, the cartel leader who walked out of his self-appointed luxury prison in 1992. “All the guard towers faced out,” Linder said with a smile.
Linder arrived in Somalia in the midst of Black Hawk Down, the event that would drive America’s noninterventionist foreign policies through the 1990s. He landed on Oct. 4, 1993, when the army of Mohammed Farah Aidid was still dragging the bodies of U.S. commandos through the streets. Linder spent most of the next three weeks sweating on a cot, wearing black nylon gym shorts and listening to the whistling descant of incoming shells.Linder arrived in Somalia in the midst of Black Hawk Down, the event that would drive America’s noninterventionist foreign policies through the 1990s. He landed on Oct. 4, 1993, when the army of Mohammed Farah Aidid was still dragging the bodies of U.S. commandos through the streets. Linder spent most of the next three weeks sweating on a cot, wearing black nylon gym shorts and listening to the whistling descant of incoming shells.
The images of mutilated soldiers on TV caused an American retrenchment that lasted until the Sept. 11 attacks. During that time, Linder served in the Balkans and ran the Green Berets’ notoriously challenging qualification course at the John F. Kennedy Special Warfare Center and School at Fort Bragg, N.C.The images of mutilated soldiers on TV caused an American retrenchment that lasted until the Sept. 11 attacks. During that time, Linder served in the Balkans and ran the Green Berets’ notoriously challenging qualification course at the John F. Kennedy Special Warfare Center and School at Fort Bragg, N.C.
After Sept. 11, Linder’s résumé goes necessarily blank. As a tactical Special Forces commander, Linder led many missions that belong to the world of “black ops” — meaning that they are secret and that he is neither particularly accustomed to nor fond of speaking to reporters, least of all about himself. If you know what to look for, however, some of the most interesting assignments on Linder’s official résumé are those that sound the most boring. From 2002 to 2004 and again from 2008 to 2010, his résumé reads “Commander, United States Army ” in Iraq or Afghanistan. From August 2004 to June 2005, he was a Senior Service College Fellow at the Central Intelligence Agency. (During those years, in the midst of various “black” assignments, he spent significant time in Africa.)After Sept. 11, Linder’s résumé goes necessarily blank. As a tactical Special Forces commander, Linder led many missions that belong to the world of “black ops” — meaning that they are secret and that he is neither particularly accustomed to nor fond of speaking to reporters, least of all about himself. If you know what to look for, however, some of the most interesting assignments on Linder’s official résumé are those that sound the most boring. From 2002 to 2004 and again from 2008 to 2010, his résumé reads “Commander, United States Army ” in Iraq or Afghanistan. From August 2004 to June 2005, he was a Senior Service College Fellow at the Central Intelligence Agency. (During those years, in the midst of various “black” assignments, he spent significant time in Africa.)
In 2005 and 2006, Linder served as the commander of the Joint Special Operations Task Force — Philippines. His job was to root out the militant group Abu Sayyaf from the islands in the nation’s south. Linder, then a colonel, set up operations on an Abu Sayyaf-controlled island called Jolo. There was no how-to manual; he fought the enemy however he saw fit. Linder thrived in this jungle environment. He employed the methods he learned and taught at Fort Bragg. The emphasis, as it would later be in Africa, was on building relationships with local people. “This isn’t something that we learned in Afghanistan and Iraq,” he said. “That’s S.O.F. 101.”In 2005 and 2006, Linder served as the commander of the Joint Special Operations Task Force — Philippines. His job was to root out the militant group Abu Sayyaf from the islands in the nation’s south. Linder, then a colonel, set up operations on an Abu Sayyaf-controlled island called Jolo. There was no how-to manual; he fought the enemy however he saw fit. Linder thrived in this jungle environment. He employed the methods he learned and taught at Fort Bragg. The emphasis, as it would later be in Africa, was on building relationships with local people. “This isn’t something that we learned in Afghanistan and Iraq,” he said. “That’s S.O.F. 101.”
Abu Sayyaf occupied a strategic ridge above the small town where the commandos were based. Linder’s men set up medical and veterinary clinics. They built roads to help isolated farmers bring their goods to market. They installed solar panels and an Internet connection at a local school. They created and distributed a comic book in which a heroic merchant marine came home from his travels and defeated the kidnapping thugs who’d taken over his home. These methods helped draw the local population away from the militants, Linder said, but the bad guys were still on the ridge. One day, a visitor asked him what success would look like. He replied: When the Abu Sayyaf guy up on the ridge looks down and sees the new school, store and road and decides to leave the fight and come home, then we know we’ve succeeded.Abu Sayyaf occupied a strategic ridge above the small town where the commandos were based. Linder’s men set up medical and veterinary clinics. They built roads to help isolated farmers bring their goods to market. They installed solar panels and an Internet connection at a local school. They created and distributed a comic book in which a heroic merchant marine came home from his travels and defeated the kidnapping thugs who’d taken over his home. These methods helped draw the local population away from the militants, Linder said, but the bad guys were still on the ridge. One day, a visitor asked him what success would look like. He replied: When the Abu Sayyaf guy up on the ridge looks down and sees the new school, store and road and decides to leave the fight and come home, then we know we’ve succeeded.
“I thought it was a metaphor,” Linder said. Two weeks later, he received a phone call that an Abu Sayyaf defector had just come down off the mountain. “When you mature,” Linder said, “you see it’s a far better way to get people off the battlefield.”“I thought it was a metaphor,” Linder said. Two weeks later, he received a phone call that an Abu Sayyaf defector had just come down off the mountain. “When you mature,” Linder said, “you see it’s a far better way to get people off the battlefield.”
When Linder’s C-130 touched down in Diffa, he donned his green beret, even though he hates wearing hats, and strode down the plane’s ramp to climb into a waiting S.U.V. His small entourage bounced over the dunes toward a training exercise and pulled up to a concrete bunker that served as that morning’s militant hide-out. A group of men, wearing T-shirts tied over their faces, scattered into the thorny brush like excited extras in a film. They were playing the role of Boko Haram in the day’s exercise. Around Diffa, on Niger’s 930-mile border with Nigeria, Boko Haram seeks haven by disappearing among the 50,000 refugees who have fled the violence in Nigeria. No one knows who belongs to Boko Haram. To be safe, the people of Diffa don’t speak the group’s name aloud; they call the militants “brothers.”When Linder’s C-130 touched down in Diffa, he donned his green beret, even though he hates wearing hats, and strode down the plane’s ramp to climb into a waiting S.U.V. His small entourage bounced over the dunes toward a training exercise and pulled up to a concrete bunker that served as that morning’s militant hide-out. A group of men, wearing T-shirts tied over their faces, scattered into the thorny brush like excited extras in a film. They were playing the role of Boko Haram in the day’s exercise. Around Diffa, on Niger’s 930-mile border with Nigeria, Boko Haram seeks haven by disappearing among the 50,000 refugees who have fled the violence in Nigeria. No one knows who belongs to Boko Haram. To be safe, the people of Diffa don’t speak the group’s name aloud; they call the militants “brothers.”
“Boko Haram is attacking and destroying civil society in Nigeria,” Linder said. The group had recently burned children alive in a locked schoolroom, massacred people who were watching a soccer game and killed boys in their sleep at a boarding school. (They would kidnap nearly 300 girls four weeks after Linder left Africa.) “Next, they’ll target traditional leaders.” The goal was to reach those communities before Boko Haram did.“Boko Haram is attacking and destroying civil society in Nigeria,” Linder said. The group had recently burned children alive in a locked schoolroom, massacred people who were watching a soccer game and killed boys in their sleep at a boarding school. (They would kidnap nearly 300 girls four weeks after Linder left Africa.) “Next, they’ll target traditional leaders.” The goal was to reach those communities before Boko Haram did.
For the past three weeks, Green Berets, along with British, French and Canadian special operators, had been training 139 elite troops from Niger, Nigeria and Chad. This was part of an annual exercise called Flintlock, which began in 2005 and this year involved more than 1,000 soldiers from 18 countries. It’s a larger version of a Joint Combined Exchange Training exercise, in which operators teach indigenous forces a range of military and intelligence-gathering techniques.For the past three weeks, Green Berets, along with British, French and Canadian special operators, had been training 139 elite troops from Niger, Nigeria and Chad. This was part of an annual exercise called Flintlock, which began in 2005 and this year involved more than 1,000 soldiers from 18 countries. It’s a larger version of a Joint Combined Exchange Training exercise, in which operators teach indigenous forces a range of military and intelligence-gathering techniques.
In Diffa, the lessons covered basic tactics of counterinsurgency, including manning checkpoints, foiling ambushes and conducting raids against terrorist hide-outs like the one before which Linder now stood. Morning after morning, under the pewter sun, the operators instructed the African soldiers in a mix of English, French and Arabic — “Yalla!” — on how to shoulder their weapons and aggressively approach an enemy camp. “Come on, ladies! There ain’t no dragons in there!” one Green Beret barked at a group of Chadians who didn’t understand him. Another said, “If you aim your weapon like that, you’re going to shoot your friends.”In Diffa, the lessons covered basic tactics of counterinsurgency, including manning checkpoints, foiling ambushes and conducting raids against terrorist hide-outs like the one before which Linder now stood. Morning after morning, under the pewter sun, the operators instructed the African soldiers in a mix of English, French and Arabic — “Yalla!” — on how to shoulder their weapons and aggressively approach an enemy camp. “Come on, ladies! There ain’t no dragons in there!” one Green Beret barked at a group of Chadians who didn’t understand him. Another said, “If you aim your weapon like that, you’re going to shoot your friends.”
The air crackled with blank automatic rounds as African soldiers rushed over the ridge. Someone threw a grenade simulator in the wrong direction; flames shot out of the dry brush. A dozen traditional leaders in a rainbow of flowing robes and fezzes approached Linder. They represented the border villages most vulnerable to Boko Haram.The air crackled with blank automatic rounds as African soldiers rushed over the ridge. Someone threw a grenade simulator in the wrong direction; flames shot out of the dry brush. A dozen traditional leaders in a rainbow of flowing robes and fezzes approached Linder. They represented the border villages most vulnerable to Boko Haram.
“Are you going to take us hostage?” a tribal leader of 65,000 people joked to Linder in French. The general waited as Melanie Zimmerman, his foreign-policy adviser, who was wearing combat boots she ordered from Amazon, translated. “Boko Haram is hiding here,” the elder went on. “No one wants them.”“Are you going to take us hostage?” a tribal leader of 65,000 people joked to Linder in French. The general waited as Melanie Zimmerman, his foreign-policy adviser, who was wearing combat boots she ordered from Amazon, translated. “Boko Haram is hiding here,” the elder went on. “No one wants them.”
Boko Haram’s stronghold near Maiduguri is only 100 miles south over an unmarked border. The militants try to gain a perch in communities suffering from a host of complex stressors, one of which is a startling birthrate. Niger has the highest in the world: On average, a woman gives birth to seven children. Another is desertification. Diffa sits near the receding banks of Lake Chad, which supplies water to 30 million people. As the lake has dried up, so, too, has the ability of people to support themselves. “Here we live climate change,” says Inoussa Saouna, the Diffa government prefect.Boko Haram’s stronghold near Maiduguri is only 100 miles south over an unmarked border. The militants try to gain a perch in communities suffering from a host of complex stressors, one of which is a startling birthrate. Niger has the highest in the world: On average, a woman gives birth to seven children. Another is desertification. Diffa sits near the receding banks of Lake Chad, which supplies water to 30 million people. As the lake has dried up, so, too, has the ability of people to support themselves. “Here we live climate change,” says Inoussa Saouna, the Diffa government prefect.
There are now two kinds of refugees in Diffa: those fleeing Boko Haram and those fleeing the weather. The chaos wrought by dislocation and some of the world’s worst social indicators renders these communities vulnerable to extremism. “Terrorists come and tell people, ‘You don’t even have a road, a well’; they give out 100 euros and tell people, ‘We are fighting for God,’ ” Col. Mahamane Laminou Sani, a senior military official from Niger, said later. “We have to fight back socially.”There are now two kinds of refugees in Diffa: those fleeing Boko Haram and those fleeing the weather. The chaos wrought by dislocation and some of the world’s worst social indicators renders these communities vulnerable to extremism. “Terrorists come and tell people, ‘You don’t even have a road, a well’; they give out 100 euros and tell people, ‘We are fighting for God,’ ” Col. Mahamane Laminou Sani, a senior military official from Niger, said later. “We have to fight back socially.”
Linder and his Green Berets know this well. In Niger, they have been working with the U.S. Agency for International Development to create “zones of resilience” in marginal places at risk of falling under militant sway. After the training exercise in Diffa, Linder attended a “goat grab” barbecue at the local officers’ club. As Pharrell Williams’s “Happy” played in the background, Linder white-boarded strategies with Earl Gast, the agency’s assistant administrator for Africa. “Since the war in the Balkans,” Gast said, “U.S.A.I.D. has been working with the U.S. military to deliver aid to dangerous places, which are among the most desperately in need of help.”Linder and his Green Berets know this well. In Niger, they have been working with the U.S. Agency for International Development to create “zones of resilience” in marginal places at risk of falling under militant sway. After the training exercise in Diffa, Linder attended a “goat grab” barbecue at the local officers’ club. As Pharrell Williams’s “Happy” played in the background, Linder white-boarded strategies with Earl Gast, the agency’s assistant administrator for Africa. “Since the war in the Balkans,” Gast said, “U.S.A.I.D. has been working with the U.S. military to deliver aid to dangerous places, which are among the most desperately in need of help.”
In Diffa, the elite international forces hunkered down near the training ground in a compound built in 2009 as a government hotel. They represented a veritable United Nations of European and African countries facing a mounting challenge with extremism. Yet given the threat of kidnapping by Boko Haram, the U.S. Special Forces discouraged anyone from venturing off base. (Special Forces, also known as Army Green Berets, are part of the military’s larger Special Operations forces.) The hotel’s nightclub, equipped with a working smoke machine, had been turned into a medical clinic for soldiers injured in the exercise. (One broke his leg after a parachute jump.) Among the concrete cabins the soldiers called “hooches,” it was easy to spy which ones housed the confined Americans. Yellow TRX harnesses hung from the wooden doorways, and portable lawn chairs lined the crab grass. A sledgehammer and an enormous truck tire lay on the ground as curious instruments in a cross-training circuit called the International House of Pain. Despite the heat, heavily inked guys wearing running shorts and earbuds jogged endless circles around the interior perimeter of the small compound. The camp, where there was nothing much to do but work out, felt like a tribal gathering of special-operator subclans.In Diffa, the elite international forces hunkered down near the training ground in a compound built in 2009 as a government hotel. They represented a veritable United Nations of European and African countries facing a mounting challenge with extremism. Yet given the threat of kidnapping by Boko Haram, the U.S. Special Forces discouraged anyone from venturing off base. (Special Forces, also known as Army Green Berets, are part of the military’s larger Special Operations forces.) The hotel’s nightclub, equipped with a working smoke machine, had been turned into a medical clinic for soldiers injured in the exercise. (One broke his leg after a parachute jump.) Among the concrete cabins the soldiers called “hooches,” it was easy to spy which ones housed the confined Americans. Yellow TRX harnesses hung from the wooden doorways, and portable lawn chairs lined the crab grass. A sledgehammer and an enormous truck tire lay on the ground as curious instruments in a cross-training circuit called the International House of Pain. Despite the heat, heavily inked guys wearing running shorts and earbuds jogged endless circles around the interior perimeter of the small compound. The camp, where there was nothing much to do but work out, felt like a tribal gathering of special-operator subclans.
One evening, over a dinner of tamales and chocolate milk in the makeshift mess hall, a group of Nigerian commandos swapped stories about encounters with Boko Haram. They belonged to the Special Boat Service, which shares its name with the British version of the Navy SEALs. These men were trained by the British and the Americans to help safeguard oil in Nigeria’s watery south. Now, however, they were stationed in the country’s sere north to fight Boko Haram. Other than the occasional flash flood, there was no water, and their maritime tactics were useless.One evening, over a dinner of tamales and chocolate milk in the makeshift mess hall, a group of Nigerian commandos swapped stories about encounters with Boko Haram. They belonged to the Special Boat Service, which shares its name with the British version of the Navy SEALs. These men were trained by the British and the Americans to help safeguard oil in Nigeria’s watery south. Now, however, they were stationed in the country’s sere north to fight Boko Haram. Other than the occasional flash flood, there was no water, and their maritime tactics were useless.
Bawa Muse, a rangy guy in a black V-neck T-shirt, boasted that he had survived about 20 gun battles with Boko Haram, including an ambush from which he ran away. In Diffa, he learned that the best tactic to use in an ambush was to fight through it. “Now, I’ll stay,” he said. Still, he didn’t think Nigeria needed American soldiers to defeat Boko Haram. “This is our time, and we must fight it out,” he said.Bawa Muse, a rangy guy in a black V-neck T-shirt, boasted that he had survived about 20 gun battles with Boko Haram, including an ambush from which he ran away. In Diffa, he learned that the best tactic to use in an ambush was to fight through it. “Now, I’ll stay,” he said. Still, he didn’t think Nigeria needed American soldiers to defeat Boko Haram. “This is our time, and we must fight it out,” he said.
At the next table, a captain with the French Special Operations forces described the growing cooperation between the French and the Americans in Africa. In Mali, France, the former colonial power in the region, sent troops. The Americans airlifted those troops and their vehicles and provided intelligence through the use of an unarmed MQ-9 drone, in addition to other forms of support. The scale of American aid shocked the captain. “We don’t give out thousands of bug nets,” he said. “We can’t.”At the next table, a captain with the French Special Operations forces described the growing cooperation between the French and the Americans in Africa. In Mali, France, the former colonial power in the region, sent troops. The Americans airlifted those troops and their vehicles and provided intelligence through the use of an unarmed MQ-9 drone, in addition to other forms of support. The scale of American aid shocked the captain. “We don’t give out thousands of bug nets,” he said. “We can’t.”
During his recent commencement address at West Point, President Obama announced a $5 billion bid to build counterterrorism partnerships in the Sahel, among other places, “to train, build capacity and facilitate partner countries on the front lines.” Linder is tasked with carrying out this cautious mandate, part of what’s been called the Obama Doctrine: a foreign policy that’s a moving target on the spectrum between isolation and intervention.During his recent commencement address at West Point, President Obama announced a $5 billion bid to build counterterrorism partnerships in the Sahel, among other places, “to train, build capacity and facilitate partner countries on the front lines.” Linder is tasked with carrying out this cautious mandate, part of what’s been called the Obama Doctrine: a foreign policy that’s a moving target on the spectrum between isolation and intervention.
“We can’t afford to fix everyone’s problems,” Linder said. “They have to be fixed to their standards, not our own.” But engaging African militaries comes with significant uncertainty and significant costs. “When it comes to traditional foreign assistance,” says Lora Lumpe, a senior policy analyst at the Open Society Foundations, “Congress requires report after report to show that the aid is effective. But the Pentagon isn’t required to do anything close to that when it comes to counterterrorism assistance. There is not a single G.A.O. or D.O.D. inspector-general report indicating any success in its approach to counterterrorism.” (In response to this criticism, Edward Price, assistant press secretary of the National Security Council, said the State Department plans to put such checks in place.) “We can’t afford to fix everyone’s problems,” Linder said. “They have to be fixed to their standards, not our own.” But engaging African militaries comes with significant uncertainty and significant costs. “When it comes to traditional foreign assistance,” says Lora Lumpe, a senior policy analyst at the Open Society Foundations, “Congress requires report after report to show that the aid is effective. But the Pentagon isn’t required to do anything close to that when it comes to counterterrorism assistance. There is not a single G.A.O. or D.O.D. inspector-general report indicating any success in its approach to counterterrorism.” (In response to this criticism, Edward Price, assistant press secretary of the National Security Council, said the White House plans to put such checks in place.)
“We have major concerns about this $5 billion fund,” says Adotei Akwei of Amnesty International U.S.A. The problem isn’t professionalizing foreign militaries. “They need that.” The problem, he said, is that there has not been equal attention to rights and rule of law. “We’ve learned by now that there are no solely military solutions to counterterrorism, but no one has the details on how or who from civil society is going to monitor military aid. More often than not, civil society has to run from security forces.”“We have major concerns about this $5 billion fund,” says Adotei Akwei of Amnesty International U.S.A. The problem isn’t professionalizing foreign militaries. “They need that.” The problem, he said, is that there has not been equal attention to rights and rule of law. “We’ve learned by now that there are no solely military solutions to counterterrorism, but no one has the details on how or who from civil society is going to monitor military aid. More often than not, civil society has to run from security forces.”
With its goat grabs and training exercises, the U.S. military can sometimes seem unaware of how inaccessible their African counterparts are to their own civilians. African militaries often serve corrupt dictators and routinely commit grave human rights abuses. In Nigeria, the military is essentially an oil-skimming operation so dysfunctional that it has been unable to act on U.S. and foreign intelligence provided in the search for the abducted schoolgirls. According to Human Rights Watch, the joint task force of the Nigerian military assigned to battle Boko Haram “has engaged in excessive use of force, physical abuse, secret detentions, extortion, burning of houses, stealing money during raids and extrajudicial killings of suspects.” In South Sudan, where civil war is raging, the U.S. has trained the Sudan People’s Liberation Army in the fight against Joseph Kony, the maniacal leader of the Lord’s Resistance Army. “Since the conflict began last December,” says John Ryle of the Rift Valley Institute, an independent research organization, “the South Sudan government has been criticized for the involvement of the S.P.L.A. in ethnic killings.” Once hard skills have been transferred, it’s difficult to predict how they will be used.With its goat grabs and training exercises, the U.S. military can sometimes seem unaware of how inaccessible their African counterparts are to their own civilians. African militaries often serve corrupt dictators and routinely commit grave human rights abuses. In Nigeria, the military is essentially an oil-skimming operation so dysfunctional that it has been unable to act on U.S. and foreign intelligence provided in the search for the abducted schoolgirls. According to Human Rights Watch, the joint task force of the Nigerian military assigned to battle Boko Haram “has engaged in excessive use of force, physical abuse, secret detentions, extortion, burning of houses, stealing money during raids and extrajudicial killings of suspects.” In South Sudan, where civil war is raging, the U.S. has trained the Sudan People’s Liberation Army in the fight against Joseph Kony, the maniacal leader of the Lord’s Resistance Army. “Since the conflict began last December,” says John Ryle of the Rift Valley Institute, an independent research organization, “the South Sudan government has been criticized for the involvement of the S.P.L.A. in ethnic killings.” Once hard skills have been transferred, it’s difficult to predict how they will be used.
The military is well aware of this predicament. “We’re intent on training African forces to operate under the rule of law, respect human rights and serve the population,” says Gen. Carter Ham, a former commander of Africom, but the mission is far from complete. “We’ve got to talk more at the senior-leader level about the real role of militaries in free societies.” Linder and other leaders see our engagement as a long game and point out that staying home isn’t an option. “We have no choice,” Linder said. “We have to engage globally.” One primary lesson learned in Iraq and Afghanistan, he notes, is that if security forces abuse the local population, they alienate their best source of intelligence. The opposite also holds true: Treat the locals well, and they’ll tell you who doesn’t belong in the village and where the militants have buried the latest roadside bomb. One of the first lessons that Special Operations teaches in Africa and other places is that a good soldier serves the population, not the leader.The military is well aware of this predicament. “We’re intent on training African forces to operate under the rule of law, respect human rights and serve the population,” says Gen. Carter Ham, a former commander of Africom, but the mission is far from complete. “We’ve got to talk more at the senior-leader level about the real role of militaries in free societies.” Linder and other leaders see our engagement as a long game and point out that staying home isn’t an option. “We have no choice,” Linder said. “We have to engage globally.” One primary lesson learned in Iraq and Afghanistan, he notes, is that if security forces abuse the local population, they alienate their best source of intelligence. The opposite also holds true: Treat the locals well, and they’ll tell you who doesn’t belong in the village and where the militants have buried the latest roadside bomb. One of the first lessons that Special Operations teaches in Africa and other places is that a good soldier serves the population, not the leader.
But embracing a more approachable military, one that is as likely to deliver eyeglasses and mosquito nets as to provide military training, humanitarian organizations say, risks “militarizing” aid. “It’s a perversion of the principle of humanitarian action and makes it almost impossible for other actors to gain acceptance by the community,” says Sophie Delaunay, the executive director of Doctors Without Borders in the United States. It can also be dangerous. “We’ve seen the blurring of these lines result in the attacks on foreign aid workers in Afghanistan and Iraq,” says Akwei of Amnesty International. “Clearly there’s a backlash here in the delivery of assistance by U.S. security forces for U.S. security objectives.”But embracing a more approachable military, one that is as likely to deliver eyeglasses and mosquito nets as to provide military training, humanitarian organizations say, risks “militarizing” aid. “It’s a perversion of the principle of humanitarian action and makes it almost impossible for other actors to gain acceptance by the community,” says Sophie Delaunay, the executive director of Doctors Without Borders in the United States. It can also be dangerous. “We’ve seen the blurring of these lines result in the attacks on foreign aid workers in Afghanistan and Iraq,” says Akwei of Amnesty International. “Clearly there’s a backlash here in the delivery of assistance by U.S. security forces for U.S. security objectives.”
Linder points out that the “art” of balancing security and development in weak states is the essence of Special Operations training. “U.S.A.I.D. is capitalizing on every tool in their tool kit, including using the military to leverage the places where their programs are out there to reach,” Linder said. Nancy Lindborg of U.S.A.I.D. says the last five years has shown that to help countries emerge from conflict and keep them from backsliding into chaos, “we’ve got to look at jobs, justice and security, and advance all three at once.”Linder points out that the “art” of balancing security and development in weak states is the essence of Special Operations training. “U.S.A.I.D. is capitalizing on every tool in their tool kit, including using the military to leverage the places where their programs are out there to reach,” Linder said. Nancy Lindborg of U.S.A.I.D. says the last five years has shown that to help countries emerge from conflict and keep them from backsliding into chaos, “we’ve got to look at jobs, justice and security, and advance all three at once.”
Linder and his team describe the vulnerable communities they are serving as “ungoverned spaces,” not because they have no government but because their government institutions are weak at best, rapacious at worst. “Ungoverned spaces” is a bit of a shibboleth in the world of counterterrorism post-2001, but the conditions it describes are real. “When I see ungoverned space,” says Corinne Dufka, a senior researcher at Human Rights Watch, “I see failing rule-of-law institutions and predatory, criminal behavior by those — soldiers, police, politicians — mandated to protect instead of exploit their people. It is these factors that undermine rights and drive people into the hands of rebel, criminal and extremist groups. We should all be very worried.”Linder and his team describe the vulnerable communities they are serving as “ungoverned spaces,” not because they have no government but because their government institutions are weak at best, rapacious at worst. “Ungoverned spaces” is a bit of a shibboleth in the world of counterterrorism post-2001, but the conditions it describes are real. “When I see ungoverned space,” says Corinne Dufka, a senior researcher at Human Rights Watch, “I see failing rule-of-law institutions and predatory, criminal behavior by those — soldiers, police, politicians — mandated to protect instead of exploit their people. It is these factors that undermine rights and drive people into the hands of rebel, criminal and extremist groups. We should all be very worried.”
Whether it’s providing humanitarian relief or battling insurgents, people are the “problem set.” “No matter how much money you spend on airplanes and ships, when you’ve got a couple of megacities on your doorstep, it becomes a matter of human terrain,” Linder said. Since 2005, that human terrain has increasingly been mapped by the military, using anthropological methods like in-depth interviews and the study of culture and language to identify who is at risk. In 2007, the American Anthropological Association ruled this practice “an unacceptable application of anthropological expertise.” But Linder says he isn’t relying on anthropologists to map the Sahara. “It’s not an anthropologist telling me about tribes and nomadic patterns,” he said later. “I’ve got Wikipedia for that. What I need is the operator.”Whether it’s providing humanitarian relief or battling insurgents, people are the “problem set.” “No matter how much money you spend on airplanes and ships, when you’ve got a couple of megacities on your doorstep, it becomes a matter of human terrain,” Linder said. Since 2005, that human terrain has increasingly been mapped by the military, using anthropological methods like in-depth interviews and the study of culture and language to identify who is at risk. In 2007, the American Anthropological Association ruled this practice “an unacceptable application of anthropological expertise.” But Linder says he isn’t relying on anthropologists to map the Sahara. “It’s not an anthropologist telling me about tribes and nomadic patterns,” he said later. “I’ve got Wikipedia for that. What I need is the operator.”
To Linder, the art of special warfare is exactly that: an art. “Nobody is born with the natural skill for this art. It comes from years of study.” At Fort Bragg during the qualification course, operators are thrown into an exercise called Robin Sage. Their “survival” depends on their ability to influence a guerrilla chief who controls when and whether they eat, sleep and succeed at their objective. What makes special operators special, according to Linder, has nothing to do with high-tech gear. Linder tells his men, “You can win buck naked with a butter knife.”To Linder, the art of special warfare is exactly that: an art. “Nobody is born with the natural skill for this art. It comes from years of study.” At Fort Bragg during the qualification course, operators are thrown into an exercise called Robin Sage. Their “survival” depends on their ability to influence a guerrilla chief who controls when and whether they eat, sleep and succeed at their objective. What makes special operators special, according to Linder, has nothing to do with high-tech gear. Linder tells his men, “You can win buck naked with a butter knife.”
One of Linder’s most unconventional warriors is a Special Forces lieutenant colonel named Patrick. Patrick, 48, and his small teams of American operators began traveling around northern Niger in October, escorted by four to six gun trucks filled with military members from Niger, to map populations vulnerable to extremism. One morning, Patrick and two other special operators met at the American Cultural Center on a dead-end street in the capital, Niamey. At a nearby traffic circle hung a billboard for the popular Showtime series “Homeland.” Their job, Patrick said as the men sat around a conference table, was to determine “who’s at risk, who’s becoming more susceptible to the siren call of violent extremism.” Patrick spoke quickly, as if trying to keep pace with his thoughts. The two other men — Mike, a deeply tanned operator, and Chris, a Special Operations captain who spoke Hausa — said little, as if they were accustomed mostly to listening. (Each of the men asked to be identified by only his first name, citing security concerns.) It wasn’t simple poverty that made people susceptible to extremism, Patrick said; misdirected aid created unsustainable ways of life that forced people further onto the margins. Systemic injustice made things worse. “This is a war taking place in ungoverned spaces, where the people are facing a crisis of adapting to modern life.”One of Linder’s most unconventional warriors is a Special Forces lieutenant colonel named Patrick. Patrick, 48, and his small teams of American operators began traveling around northern Niger in October, escorted by four to six gun trucks filled with military members from Niger, to map populations vulnerable to extremism. One morning, Patrick and two other special operators met at the American Cultural Center on a dead-end street in the capital, Niamey. At a nearby traffic circle hung a billboard for the popular Showtime series “Homeland.” Their job, Patrick said as the men sat around a conference table, was to determine “who’s at risk, who’s becoming more susceptible to the siren call of violent extremism.” Patrick spoke quickly, as if trying to keep pace with his thoughts. The two other men — Mike, a deeply tanned operator, and Chris, a Special Operations captain who spoke Hausa — said little, as if they were accustomed mostly to listening. (Each of the men asked to be identified by only his first name, citing security concerns.) It wasn’t simple poverty that made people susceptible to extremism, Patrick said; misdirected aid created unsustainable ways of life that forced people further onto the margins. Systemic injustice made things worse. “This is a war taking place in ungoverned spaces, where the people are facing a crisis of adapting to modern life.”
A doctoral candidate researching the psychological breakdown of tribes and clans in violent conflict, Patrick is both an anthropologist and an operator. The tactics of special warfare can look quite a lot like those used by the Peace Corps, which arrived in Niger in 1962 and left in 2011 because of security concerns. In this case, however, the goal is to build a society faster than the enemy can take it apart.A doctoral candidate researching the psychological breakdown of tribes and clans in violent conflict, Patrick is both an anthropologist and an operator. The tactics of special warfare can look quite a lot like those used by the Peace Corps, which arrived in Niger in 1962 and left in 2011 because of security concerns. In this case, however, the goal is to build a society faster than the enemy can take it apart.
Patrick wears cowboy boots and a tan corduroy jacket with patches, as any anthropology professor might. But few professors’ shoulders could match Patrick’s musclebound ones. He grew up in New England and Florida and joined the Special Forces after reading “The Sandino Affair,” by Neill Macaulay, in which U.S. Marines battle the father of the Sandinista movement. He fell in love with the notion of training freedom fighters. “That’s what we do in unconventional warfare,” he said. “We raise armies against bad governments — only the insurgents are called freedom fighters,” Patrick said with a laugh. He has spent 24 years in the Army, most as a Green Beret, and served in Colombia, Peru, Ecuador, Ethiopia and Iraq.Patrick wears cowboy boots and a tan corduroy jacket with patches, as any anthropology professor might. But few professors’ shoulders could match Patrick’s musclebound ones. He grew up in New England and Florida and joined the Special Forces after reading “The Sandino Affair,” by Neill Macaulay, in which U.S. Marines battle the father of the Sandinista movement. He fell in love with the notion of training freedom fighters. “That’s what we do in unconventional warfare,” he said. “We raise armies against bad governments — only the insurgents are called freedom fighters,” Patrick said with a laugh. He has spent 24 years in the Army, most as a Green Beret, and served in Colombia, Peru, Ecuador, Ethiopia and Iraq.
In Niger, Patrick has traveled the trade routes of the north, where Chris and Mike have identified important leaders and handed out gray and red coins that looked like poker chips and were stamped with a profile of an African lion and a dagger to represent Special Operations. “We’re betting this will be a key relationship,” Chris said.In Niger, Patrick has traveled the trade routes of the north, where Chris and Mike have identified important leaders and handed out gray and red coins that looked like poker chips and were stamped with a profile of an African lion and a dagger to represent Special Operations. “We’re betting this will be a key relationship,” Chris said.
“In Afghanistan and Iraq, we squandered significant amounts of money with the best of intentions,” Patrick said. “Our efforts were poorly planned and poorly placed. We have to do this right this time.” Patience was essential. “Give me a year, I can do something,” Patrick added. “Give me six weeks, I can make a mess.” This echoes a T. E. Lawrence maxim that special operators love: “Better the Arabs do it tolerably than that you do it perfectly. It is their war, and you are to help them, not to win it for them.”“In Afghanistan and Iraq, we squandered significant amounts of money with the best of intentions,” Patrick said. “Our efforts were poorly planned and poorly placed. We have to do this right this time.” Patience was essential. “Give me a year, I can do something,” Patrick added. “Give me six weeks, I can make a mess.” This echoes a T. E. Lawrence maxim that special operators love: “Better the Arabs do it tolerably than that you do it perfectly. It is their war, and you are to help them, not to win it for them.”
So far, Patrick’s teams had mapped several tribes that were particularly vulnerable to the militants’ recent marketing campaign. Using sermons and songs embedded on SIM cards, the Movement for Oneness and Jihad in West Africa was peddling its message in the name of Usman dan Fodio, a 19th-century Fulani hero and reformer who waged jihad across West Africa to purify Islam. More than 100 years later, his message resonates among people who find themselves marginalized by the modern world. The most vulnerable communities aren’t those of isolated mountain people, but those “squeezed in the middle” — caught between a traditional way of life and a failing contemporary landscape.So far, Patrick’s teams had mapped several tribes that were particularly vulnerable to the militants’ recent marketing campaign. Using sermons and songs embedded on SIM cards, the Movement for Oneness and Jihad in West Africa was peddling its message in the name of Usman dan Fodio, a 19th-century Fulani hero and reformer who waged jihad across West Africa to purify Islam. More than 100 years later, his message resonates among people who find themselves marginalized by the modern world. The most vulnerable communities aren’t those of isolated mountain people, but those “squeezed in the middle” — caught between a traditional way of life and a failing contemporary landscape.
“We go into places that are ungoverned, where the Westphalian state can’t project power,” Patrick said. “These are the places linked to violent Islam.” In those places, Patrick’s task is to reinforce the foundations of society. “Governance, development, security,” he said. “My job is to strengthen all three.”“We go into places that are ungoverned, where the Westphalian state can’t project power,” Patrick said. “These are the places linked to violent Islam.” In those places, Patrick’s task is to reinforce the foundations of society. “Governance, development, security,” he said. “My job is to strengthen all three.”
Ungoverned spaces are liminal places. They are, by definition, dangerous. “The enemy knows what we’re doing,” Chris added. “If I’ve been in there a year and I haven’t been targeted, I’m probably not doing a very good job.”Ungoverned spaces are liminal places. They are, by definition, dangerous. “The enemy knows what we’re doing,” Chris added. “If I’ve been in there a year and I haven’t been targeted, I’m probably not doing a very good job.”
Chris pointed across the table to Mike, a desert-scorched and silent operator whose oxford-cloth shirt seemed uncomfortably tight on his thick neck. “See how his tan lines are a little off?” Chris asked. “He doesn’t wear a suit. He’s out there with our partners across the desert, fighting a war that no one will ever know about if we win. How do you sell that to the American people?”Chris pointed across the table to Mike, a desert-scorched and silent operator whose oxford-cloth shirt seemed uncomfortably tight on his thick neck. “See how his tan lines are a little off?” Chris asked. “He doesn’t wear a suit. He’s out there with our partners across the desert, fighting a war that no one will ever know about if we win. How do you sell that to the American people?”
One March afternoon in Stuttgart, Germany, Sean Poole of Invisible Children sat in the soft spring sun outside the Broadway Cafe, the Africom coffee shop. (Africom is based in Stuttgart because there was no politically viable host country in Africa.) Invisible Children created the Kony 2012 viral video as part of its campaign to stop the Lord’s Resistance Army. Although Kony’s group poses no strategic threat to the United States, Kony has abducted an estimated 30,000 children over nearly three decades. Indicted in 2005 on charges of crimes against humanity by the International Criminal Court, Kony has long been the focus of a manhunt, which U.S. Special Operations forces in Africa joined three years ago. He is thought to be hiding in a remote Central African territory the size of Maine.One March afternoon in Stuttgart, Germany, Sean Poole of Invisible Children sat in the soft spring sun outside the Broadway Cafe, the Africom coffee shop. (Africom is based in Stuttgart because there was no politically viable host country in Africa.) Invisible Children created the Kony 2012 viral video as part of its campaign to stop the Lord’s Resistance Army. Although Kony’s group poses no strategic threat to the United States, Kony has abducted an estimated 30,000 children over nearly three decades. Indicted in 2005 on charges of crimes against humanity by the International Criminal Court, Kony has long been the focus of a manhunt, which U.S. Special Operations forces in Africa joined three years ago. He is thought to be hiding in a remote Central African territory the size of Maine.
The fight against Kony was dragging out, so Poole had flown in from Uganda to meet Linder. He was worried that people would stop paying attention and that political pressure would wane. “We really peaked in 2012,” he said. “Our base is 17-to-25-year-olds, and they’re moving on.”The fight against Kony was dragging out, so Poole had flown in from Uganda to meet Linder. He was worried that people would stop paying attention and that political pressure would wane. “We really peaked in 2012,” he said. “Our base is 17-to-25-year-olds, and they’re moving on.”
Poole was ushered into a conference room outside the secure information facility that serves as Linder’s office. In front of Linder’s heavy, locked doors, carpets feature the shield for Special Operations in Africa: the same profile of a lion and a dagger that decorated the coins Patrick’s team was handing out in Niger. Inside, the walls are decorated with maps, TVs, white boards and gifts from African nations, including an original Flintlock rifle given to the United States by Mauritania and plaques that represent significant moments in U.S. wars, like the battle of Takur Ghar in Afghanistan’s Paktia Province, one of the deadliest early in the war.Poole was ushered into a conference room outside the secure information facility that serves as Linder’s office. In front of Linder’s heavy, locked doors, carpets feature the shield for Special Operations in Africa: the same profile of a lion and a dagger that decorated the coins Patrick’s team was handing out in Niger. Inside, the walls are decorated with maps, TVs, white boards and gifts from African nations, including an original Flintlock rifle given to the United States by Mauritania and plaques that represent significant moments in U.S. wars, like the battle of Takur Ghar in Afghanistan’s Paktia Province, one of the deadliest early in the war.
When he took over as the commander of Special Operations in Africa in the spring of 2012, Linder redoubled the fight against Kony by introducing tracking teams, Green Berets trained in SERE (survival, evasion, resistance and escape). After the two men sat down, Poole laid out on a table a map of Central Africa littered with red and blue dots. These, he said, are villages in which Invisible Children supplied either a two-way radio or a Thuraya satellite phone so villagers could report attacks. Linder studied the map in silence for 10 seconds and then pointed to a blank space that straddles the border between the Central African Republic and Darfur. “What’s happening there?” he asked Poole. “That area is hard to reach,” Poole said. It would require weeks, maybe a month, to access the scant villages in the largely uninhabited region to which Linder was pointing. “Why don’t you put a bunch of Thurayas in a backpack and walk them up there?” Linder asked. Poole laughed nervously.When he took over as the commander of Special Operations in Africa in the spring of 2012, Linder redoubled the fight against Kony by introducing tracking teams, Green Berets trained in SERE (survival, evasion, resistance and escape). After the two men sat down, Poole laid out on a table a map of Central Africa littered with red and blue dots. These, he said, are villages in which Invisible Children supplied either a two-way radio or a Thuraya satellite phone so villagers could report attacks. Linder studied the map in silence for 10 seconds and then pointed to a blank space that straddles the border between the Central African Republic and Darfur. “What’s happening there?” he asked Poole. “That area is hard to reach,” Poole said. It would require weeks, maybe a month, to access the scant villages in the largely uninhabited region to which Linder was pointing. “Why don’t you put a bunch of Thurayas in a backpack and walk them up there?” Linder asked. Poole laughed nervously.
Linder couldn’t resist the teachable moment. “Kony is not the problem,” he said. “Kony is a symptom of the problem. My problem is ungoverned spaces.” The solution lay in establishing a human network that makes it more difficult for the next Joseph Kony, the next Abubakar Shekau, to find a foothold in Africa. The more communities reachable by satellite phone, the more connective tissue — and the less ungoverned space.Linder couldn’t resist the teachable moment. “Kony is not the problem,” he said. “Kony is a symptom of the problem. My problem is ungoverned spaces.” The solution lay in establishing a human network that makes it more difficult for the next Joseph Kony, the next Abubakar Shekau, to find a foothold in Africa. The more communities reachable by satellite phone, the more connective tissue — and the less ungoverned space.
At the end of the meeting, Linder wondered aloud about the future of Poole’s organization. Invisible Children had helped mobilize public opinion against the Lord’s Resistance Army. But what was next? “You have to find a way to motivate the U.S. to give a hoot. If the U.S. doesn’t give a hoot, we’re not going to be there.” As he said later, “I see Kony because Congress tells me to.”At the end of the meeting, Linder wondered aloud about the future of Poole’s organization. Invisible Children had helped mobilize public opinion against the Lord’s Resistance Army. But what was next? “You have to find a way to motivate the U.S. to give a hoot. If the U.S. doesn’t give a hoot, we’re not going to be there.” As he said later, “I see Kony because Congress tells me to.”
Twelve days later and 4,500 miles away, in the bee-infested jungle of the Central African Republic, a team of four Green Berets and 22 Ugandan soldiers boarded CV-22 Ospreys, a kind of half-helicopter, half-airplane. It was 11 p.m., which meant they would have time to reach their objective under cover of darkness. Their mission was to raid an L.R.A. camp near a place called Nzako that recent defectors had described to them. Carrying compasses, maps and GPS devices, the men landed about three miles from their target, far enough away that no one would hear them coming. It can take two hours to fight through a single mile of underbrush so thick that visibility is less than 10 feet. About half a mile from the target, two Ugandans and two Americans went ahead to conduct reconnaissance. They found a camp of 28 beds made of stacked grass that ringed the perimeter. But the beds were empty, and the fighters were gone, having most likely escaped a few days earlier. This happened all the time.Twelve days later and 4,500 miles away, in the bee-infested jungle of the Central African Republic, a team of four Green Berets and 22 Ugandan soldiers boarded CV-22 Ospreys, a kind of half-helicopter, half-airplane. It was 11 p.m., which meant they would have time to reach their objective under cover of darkness. Their mission was to raid an L.R.A. camp near a place called Nzako that recent defectors had described to them. Carrying compasses, maps and GPS devices, the men landed about three miles from their target, far enough away that no one would hear them coming. It can take two hours to fight through a single mile of underbrush so thick that visibility is less than 10 feet. About half a mile from the target, two Ugandans and two Americans went ahead to conduct reconnaissance. They found a camp of 28 beds made of stacked grass that ringed the perimeter. But the beds were empty, and the fighters were gone, having most likely escaped a few days earlier. This happened all the time.
The next morning, the Green Berets and the Ugandans ate cornmeal and beans at a 7,700-square-mile hunting reserve. This was the most forward outpost in the search for Joseph Kony and the L.R.A. Despite the civil war raging in the Central African Republic, Europeans come here to hunt. A 30-minute drive away, four luxury bungalows and a fully stocked bar are nestled in the forest. Bushbucks, waterbucks, warthogs, baboons — the bush was thick with them all. “Everything we’ve seen on National Geographic is out here,” said Caleb, 30, the team captain. “We found three black mambas in camp.” Here, the risk is less about who might shoot you than what might bite you. “The only way this turns kinetic is if a lion comes at me out of the jungle,” said Mike, the team sergeant. The previous evening’s mission was typical in that the fighters were probably three to four days away by the time the Ugandans and Americans found the camp. They could be nearly 50 miles away by now. They moved fast. “You have to respect your enemy,” Caleb said. “They’ll cook a meal on their heads.” The fighters could set a pot to boil in the morning and carry it simmering as they walked all day and crossed rivers through impossibly thick jungle. Tracking them, he added, “is like tracking ghosts.”The next morning, the Green Berets and the Ugandans ate cornmeal and beans at a 7,700-square-mile hunting reserve. This was the most forward outpost in the search for Joseph Kony and the L.R.A. Despite the civil war raging in the Central African Republic, Europeans come here to hunt. A 30-minute drive away, four luxury bungalows and a fully stocked bar are nestled in the forest. Bushbucks, waterbucks, warthogs, baboons — the bush was thick with them all. “Everything we’ve seen on National Geographic is out here,” said Caleb, 30, the team captain. “We found three black mambas in camp.” Here, the risk is less about who might shoot you than what might bite you. “The only way this turns kinetic is if a lion comes at me out of the jungle,” said Mike, the team sergeant. The previous evening’s mission was typical in that the fighters were probably three to four days away by the time the Ugandans and Americans found the camp. They could be nearly 50 miles away by now. They moved fast. “You have to respect your enemy,” Caleb said. “They’ll cook a meal on their heads.” The fighters could set a pot to boil in the morning and carry it simmering as they walked all day and crossed rivers through impossibly thick jungle. Tracking them, he added, “is like tracking ghosts.”
Despite the reliance on the American planes, drones and dollars, it was the Ugandans who trained the Americans on how to survive. To show how the L.R.A. worked, the Ugandans gave the Green Berets a lesson in tracking by setting a field on fire, marching through the ash and then covering their tracks. The Green Berets tried to follow but found it impossible. The Ugandans also taught the Americans how to find water by looking for muddy spots in the forest floor. “Water is a struggle,” Caleb said. Whoever needed less of it held the advantage. The fighters lived in this bush. They ate roots and could find water anywhere. The Ugandans could stay out on missions for 30 to 60 days. The Americans could last as long as four before needing to resupply. The worst part, however, was the bees.Despite the reliance on the American planes, drones and dollars, it was the Ugandans who trained the Americans on how to survive. To show how the L.R.A. worked, the Ugandans gave the Green Berets a lesson in tracking by setting a field on fire, marching through the ash and then covering their tracks. The Green Berets tried to follow but found it impossible. The Ugandans also taught the Americans how to find water by looking for muddy spots in the forest floor. “Water is a struggle,” Caleb said. Whoever needed less of it held the advantage. The fighters lived in this bush. They ate roots and could find water anywhere. The Ugandans could stay out on missions for 30 to 60 days. The Americans could last as long as four before needing to resupply. The worst part, however, was the bees.
“Before I came out, guys told me, ‘The bees, sir, the bees, the bees.’ I thought they’d made this stuff up,” Caleb said. “But it was true. You can hear them coming. If you stop for a minute in the bush, the bees swarm to the salt of sweat on any exposed flesh.” (One of Linder’s chief concerns in sending his operators to this particular area was infection. “There are diseases in the region that we don’t even know about,” he said earlier.) Despite these hardships, the operators remained upbeat: There was no feeling as good as watching defectors come out of the bush and surrender. It was like “freeing people from forced slavery,” Mike said. The Americans saw defection as crucial to combating the L.R.A. Because most of the few hundred stragglers still walking around in the Central African bush were abducted as children, many are disoriented and terrified that they will be killed by the Ugandan military. It’s not an idle fear; the Ugandan military has a history of killing the group’s members, including children.“Before I came out, guys told me, ‘The bees, sir, the bees, the bees.’ I thought they’d made this stuff up,” Caleb said. “But it was true. You can hear them coming. If you stop for a minute in the bush, the bees swarm to the salt of sweat on any exposed flesh.” (One of Linder’s chief concerns in sending his operators to this particular area was infection. “There are diseases in the region that we don’t even know about,” he said earlier.) Despite these hardships, the operators remained upbeat: There was no feeling as good as watching defectors come out of the bush and surrender. It was like “freeing people from forced slavery,” Mike said. The Americans saw defection as crucial to combating the L.R.A. Because most of the few hundred stragglers still walking around in the Central African bush were abducted as children, many are disoriented and terrified that they will be killed by the Ugandan military. It’s not an idle fear; the Ugandan military has a history of killing the group’s members, including children.
“You’ve heard of Stockholm syndrome, but this is different,” Col. Michael Kabango, 48, a commander in the Uganda People’s Defense Force, said the next day. Kabango was waiting in the shade for the latest defector to arrive by helicopter on a laterite airstrip in Obo, in the southeast corner of the Central African Republic. This was a heavily fortified outpost — with an air-conditioned mess tent stocked with Red Bull, energy bars and a flat-screen TV tuned to CNN International — where the Americans and Ugandans made camp. It was a Sunday afternoon, and a Ugandan soldier nearby was ironing his fatigues on the ground beneath a mango tree as tiger-striped butterflies darted through air filled with the scent of wild cucumber. Tabu Simon, a recent defector, waited anxiously among the mangoes for his brother, the defector coming by helicopter.“You’ve heard of Stockholm syndrome, but this is different,” Col. Michael Kabango, 48, a commander in the Uganda People’s Defense Force, said the next day. Kabango was waiting in the shade for the latest defector to arrive by helicopter on a laterite airstrip in Obo, in the southeast corner of the Central African Republic. This was a heavily fortified outpost — with an air-conditioned mess tent stocked with Red Bull, energy bars and a flat-screen TV tuned to CNN International — where the Americans and Ugandans made camp. It was a Sunday afternoon, and a Ugandan soldier nearby was ironing his fatigues on the ground beneath a mango tree as tiger-striped butterflies darted through air filled with the scent of wild cucumber. Tabu Simon, a recent defector, waited anxiously among the mangoes for his brother, the defector coming by helicopter.
There was nothing to do but hang around. Kabango sat in a plastic armchair beneath the mango tree while his soldiers played with Simon’s 1-year-old daughter, named Forever, who was wearing a pale-blue basketball uniform with a picture of Obama on it. After chasing Kony for nearly 20 years, Kabango was tired. “I’ve gone on and off this mission, but Kony hasn’t. He knows how to move, and he’s always a step ahead.There was nothing to do but hang around. Kabango sat in a plastic armchair beneath the mango tree while his soldiers played with Simon’s 1-year-old daughter, named Forever, who was wearing a pale-blue basketball uniform with a picture of Obama on it. After chasing Kony for nearly 20 years, Kabango was tired. “I’ve gone on and off this mission, but Kony hasn’t. He knows how to move, and he’s always a step ahead.
“There’s a feeling among the international community that we haven’t done our best,” he went on. “So they come out and think that they can do better.” At least the Americans brought practical tools, like drones that helped with intelligence gathering. But these had limits, too. “High tech has failed because the L.R.A. is so rudimentary. American drones are too noisy, and their cameras don’t see well enough in the jungle. Perhaps if we had silent drones mounted with high-definition­ cameras, but the L.R.A. is not that kind of priority for the United States.”“There’s a feeling among the international community that we haven’t done our best,” he went on. “So they come out and think that they can do better.” At least the Americans brought practical tools, like drones that helped with intelligence gathering. But these had limits, too. “High tech has failed because the L.R.A. is so rudimentary. American drones are too noisy, and their cameras don’t see well enough in the jungle. Perhaps if we had silent drones mounted with high-definition­ cameras, but the L.R.A. is not that kind of priority for the United States.”
Over the last six months, the U.S. had increased its support for the mission, but it still didn’t make a marked difference on the ground, Kabango thought. “U.S. support has intensified, but the problem is if you ask me where Kony is, I don’t know. So the fight has intensified, but against what?” he said. Playing the game of “Where’s Joseph Kony?” was like playing Where’s Waldo? while wearing a blindfold. “If I knew where he was, I wouldn’t be sitting here,” he said with a laugh. “Kony exploits this north-south divide where the Sahara meets equatorial Africa.”Over the last six months, the U.S. had increased its support for the mission, but it still didn’t make a marked difference on the ground, Kabango thought. “U.S. support has intensified, but the problem is if you ask me where Kony is, I don’t know. So the fight has intensified, but against what?” he said. Playing the game of “Where’s Joseph Kony?” was like playing Where’s Waldo? while wearing a blindfold. “If I knew where he was, I wouldn’t be sitting here,” he said with a laugh. “Kony exploits this north-south divide where the Sahara meets equatorial Africa.”
This is the same geographic band that Boko Haram uses as a haven. Since most intelligence is human, each group takes advantage of sparsely populated areas to hide. Kabango continued: “There’s always been a polarization here along religious lines, and the weather is too hostile” — the rivers are drying up, and with them access to food — “so that no one can live here permanently. It’s a movement corridor where no one’s in charge.” To survive, people compete for dwindling resources — gold, ivory, coltan. “Our biggest problem is poverty. It’s poverty that leads to disease, to joblessness and everything else.”This is the same geographic band that Boko Haram uses as a haven. Since most intelligence is human, each group takes advantage of sparsely populated areas to hide. Kabango continued: “There’s always been a polarization here along religious lines, and the weather is too hostile” — the rivers are drying up, and with them access to food — “so that no one can live here permanently. It’s a movement corridor where no one’s in charge.” To survive, people compete for dwindling resources — gold, ivory, coltan. “Our biggest problem is poverty. It’s poverty that leads to disease, to joblessness and everything else.”
The American presence was essential, but not in the form of foot soldiers. “We need the logistics and better technology,” Kabango said. “It’s not fair to the American people to put American boots on the ground, and they actually slow us down.” Every three or four days, the Ugandans had to wait for the Americans to resupply water. “Working with the Americans is a bit like being a small horse in front of a large cart,” he said. “You have to be careful, or the cart might run over you.” There was one American approach that Kabango did like: fastening loudspeakers to airplanes and flying them over the jungle playing messages telling the guys to come home. Recently, six men defected after one such outing.The American presence was essential, but not in the form of foot soldiers. “We need the logistics and better technology,” Kabango said. “It’s not fair to the American people to put American boots on the ground, and they actually slow us down.” Every three or four days, the Ugandans had to wait for the Americans to resupply water. “Working with the Americans is a bit like being a small horse in front of a large cart,” he said. “You have to be careful, or the cart might run over you.” There was one American approach that Kabango did like: fastening loudspeakers to airplanes and flying them over the jungle playing messages telling the guys to come home. Recently, six men defected after one such outing.
“Quite simply, it’s marketing,” Linder said later. “You’re essentially teaching psy-ops marketing. The message is: ‘You don’t have to be L.R.A. War is over. Life doesn’t have to suck.’ It’s about removing combatants from the battlefield. That’s what we did in the Philippines.”“Quite simply, it’s marketing,” Linder said later. “You’re essentially teaching psy-ops marketing. The message is: ‘You don’t have to be L.R.A. War is over. Life doesn’t have to suck.’ It’s about removing combatants from the battlefield. That’s what we did in the Philippines.”
Col. Kevin Leahy, a dry-witted Irish American from northern New Jersey, commands the mission against the L.R.A. and every other Central African crisis that comes across his desk, including the effort to rescue the more than 200 schoolgirls who remain in captivity after 57 managed to escape. One night at his base in Entebbe, Uganda, he spoke about the L.R.A.: “We’ll take every opportunity to engage them without killing anybody, because every time you engage the L.R.A. directly, children get killed.” As for Kabango’s critiques, Leahy said: “These guys can drink out of puddles in the bush and not get sick, and that’s pretty impressive. But what we bring to the table when we’re out there with them is the ability to manage intelligence assets, communications, and to know instantly where people are.” The L.R.A.’s small numbers were part of the challenge. “When it gets down to this 250, 200, 150, and they’re in these smaller groups, they get really hard to find.”Col. Kevin Leahy, a dry-witted Irish American from northern New Jersey, commands the mission against the L.R.A. and every other Central African crisis that comes across his desk, including the effort to rescue the more than 200 schoolgirls who remain in captivity after 57 managed to escape. One night at his base in Entebbe, Uganda, he spoke about the L.R.A.: “We’ll take every opportunity to engage them without killing anybody, because every time you engage the L.R.A. directly, children get killed.” As for Kabango’s critiques, Leahy said: “These guys can drink out of puddles in the bush and not get sick, and that’s pretty impressive. But what we bring to the table when we’re out there with them is the ability to manage intelligence assets, communications, and to know instantly where people are.” The L.R.A.’s small numbers were part of the challenge. “When it gets down to this 250, 200, 150, and they’re in these smaller groups, they get really hard to find.”
For Leahy, the most important operations fall under what in today’s special warfare are called influence operations. His team was dropping harmless grenade simulators to herd the L.R.A. and create the kind of chaos that allowed defectors the chance to escape and got the others thinking. “I’ll try anything,” he said. With the help of the State Department, he recently commissioned a “Come Home” song by a Ugandan pop star named Jose Chameleone. He reached out to Chuck Norris to create a “come home” message. The group’s members, it turned out, were big fans of ’80s action movies. In more than one raided camp, there were DVDs of Chuck Norris films. “We’ve gotten some feedback from his agent,” Leahy said.For Leahy, the most important operations fall under what in today’s special warfare are called influence operations. His team was dropping harmless grenade simulators to herd the L.R.A. and create the kind of chaos that allowed defectors the chance to escape and got the others thinking. “I’ll try anything,” he said. With the help of the State Department, he recently commissioned a “Come Home” song by a Ugandan pop star named Jose Chameleone. He reached out to Chuck Norris to create a “come home” message. The group’s members, it turned out, were big fans of ’80s action movies. In more than one raided camp, there were DVDs of Chuck Norris films. “We’ve gotten some feedback from his agent,” Leahy said.
In keeping with Africom’s mandate, Leahy stressed that this was an African-led mission. “We give a lot of advice, but at the end of the day, it’s their commanders who call the shots.” He went on, “We can’t bring the entire Death Star in and set it up.” Besides, as always, there was the question of Where’s Joseph Kony? “He could be dead,” Leahy said. Most of the defectors coming out of the bush hadn’t seen him or even heard him giving commands by radio in a long time. So either Kony was gone or he was in the disputed area of Kafia Kingi or farther north in Sudan, where his old sponsors in the Sudanese government continue to grant him haven. “Without the support of Sudan over the last 20 years, there would be no L.R.A.,” Leahy said.In keeping with Africom’s mandate, Leahy stressed that this was an African-led mission. “We give a lot of advice, but at the end of the day, it’s their commanders who call the shots.” He went on, “We can’t bring the entire Death Star in and set it up.” Besides, as always, there was the question of Where’s Joseph Kony? “He could be dead,” Leahy said. Most of the defectors coming out of the bush hadn’t seen him or even heard him giving commands by radio in a long time. So either Kony was gone or he was in the disputed area of Kafia Kingi or farther north in Sudan, where his old sponsors in the Sudanese government continue to grant him haven. “Without the support of Sudan over the last 20 years, there would be no L.R.A.,” Leahy said.
The Lord’s Resistance Army continued to fade from view as events nearby overtook the story of a tiny, straggling band of abductees wandering around in the woods. Civil war battered South Sudan. A potential genocide unfolded in the Central African Republic. But it was the abduction of the schoolgirls that caused an international outcry.The Lord’s Resistance Army continued to fade from view as events nearby overtook the story of a tiny, straggling band of abductees wandering around in the woods. Civil war battered South Sudan. A potential genocide unfolded in the Central African Republic. But it was the abduction of the schoolgirls that caused an international outcry.
In early May, Leahy traveled to Nigeria to lead the military component of the interagency team charged with locating the abducted girls. The team included representatives of the F.B.I., the State Department, U.S.A.I.D. and Africom. “We’ve never worked so effectively with other components of the U.S. government,” Leahy said. That didn’t mean the task was easy. His role was to incorporate U.S. intelligence into what the Nigerians already knew. The political challenges have been well documented: corruption within the Nigerian military, poor equipment and weak troops, to name a few. As for more practical challenges, Leahy declined to name them for fear of giving Boko Haram information they didn’t already have. “The Nigerian government is in a very difficult position and is trying to figure out a solution while dealing with constant Boko Haram attacks,” Leahy said. Since the girls were taken, Boko Haram has killed at least 220 more people.In early May, Leahy traveled to Nigeria to lead the military component of the interagency team charged with locating the abducted girls. The team included representatives of the F.B.I., the State Department, U.S.A.I.D. and Africom. “We’ve never worked so effectively with other components of the U.S. government,” Leahy said. That didn’t mean the task was easy. His role was to incorporate U.S. intelligence into what the Nigerians already knew. The political challenges have been well documented: corruption within the Nigerian military, poor equipment and weak troops, to name a few. As for more practical challenges, Leahy declined to name them for fear of giving Boko Haram information they didn’t already have. “The Nigerian government is in a very difficult position and is trying to figure out a solution while dealing with constant Boko Haram attacks,” Leahy said. Since the girls were taken, Boko Haram has killed at least 220 more people.
Nigeria could well prove a test case for the “Obama Doctrine.” Whether the United States government can solve the crisis of the abducted schoolgirls is inextricably linked to whether the Nigerians are capable of addressing the societal ills that led to the rise of Boko Haram. For its part, Special Operations was preparing to train three battalions of elite Nigerian forces to confront Boko Haram. But given the Nigerian military’s record on human rights violations, its lack of professionalism and its history of either running away from Boko Haram or killing innocent civilians, this was going to be a matter of sink or swim. It would take the highest level of American engagement. As Linder said, “We’re going to get in the pool with them.”Nigeria could well prove a test case for the “Obama Doctrine.” Whether the United States government can solve the crisis of the abducted schoolgirls is inextricably linked to whether the Nigerians are capable of addressing the societal ills that led to the rise of Boko Haram. For its part, Special Operations was preparing to train three battalions of elite Nigerian forces to confront Boko Haram. But given the Nigerian military’s record on human rights violations, its lack of professionalism and its history of either running away from Boko Haram or killing innocent civilians, this was going to be a matter of sink or swim. It would take the highest level of American engagement. As Linder said, “We’re going to get in the pool with them.”