The Rise of the Hybrid Warriors: From Ukraine to the Middle East

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The Iraqi Army defenders of Ramadi had held their dusty, stony ground for over a year and become familiar with the increasing adeptness of their opponents waving black flags. At first, these Iraqi Army units simply faced sprayed rifle fire, but then it was well-placed sniper rounds that forced these weary units to keep under cover whenever possible or risk a death that only their comrades — but never the victim — would hear. Tired, beleaguered, and cut off from reinforcements from Baghdad, they nonetheless continued to repulse attack after attack.

The last months witnessed a new weapon — car bombs. The Islamic State in Iraq and the Levant (ISIL) and its predecessor, al-Qaeda in Iraq, had long been the masters of using car bombs, but almost always against isolated checkpoints or undefended civilians. But an old tactic found a new situation. Car bombs, now parked against outer walls and driven by suicide bombers, were thrown against the Iraqi Army’s defenses in Ramadi.

The defenders were professional soldiers, and the last decade of war had taught them a great deal about the use of concrete barriers to defend against explosives of all kinds. So while the car bombs created a great deal of sound and fury, they availed little.

Then one bright day in May 2015, the defenders awoke to a new sound. Crawling forward slowly toward the heavily barricaded road was a bulldozer followed by several large cargo and dump trucks. The soldiers began to fire as the bulldozer entered the range of their machine guns and rifles, but it was armored by overlapping welded steel plates. The bullets bounced off the advancing earthmover. The defenders lacked one key weapon system — an anti-tank missile that could penetrate the armor of the tracked vehicle.

So while the soldiers kept up a steady volume of fire, they were helpless as the dozer began to remove the concrete barriers that blocked the road between their positions and the row of large armored trucks. One layer of concrete was removed after another until the road was clear.

And so the trucks begin to pour through. While creating vehicle-borne bombs is an ISIL specialty, the technology is actually remarkably simple, as each truck carried in its five-ton bed the same basic formula used two decades ago by Timothy McVeigh at Oklahoma City — ammonium nitrate fertilizer soaked in gasoline. As each truck closed on the defenses, its suicide bomber detonated the payload, shocking beyond reason those who were not killed outright. As truck after truck delivered its lethal payload, black-clad fighters poured from behind the trucks to exploit the newly created hole in the defenses. The survivors fell back and tried to maintain some semblance of order, but it was far too late to have any hope of saving this day. Ramadi had fallen.

The explosion of ISIL onto the international scene in June 2014 informed the world that a new type of force had arrived. In some ways, this should have been less of a surprise. ISIL had seized Fallujah the previous January, and there were also several clear precursors of this type of force. The Israelis had experienced a near-defeat in their fightagainst the non-state actor Hezbollah years earlier. And only a month after the fall of Mosul, Russian-backed separatist forces in Ukraine would shoot down Malaysian Airlines flight MH17.

None of these actors — ISIL, Hezbollah, or the Ukrainian separatists — can be classified as traditional insurgent groups, guerrillas, or terrorists. All three groups possess capabilities that take them beyond more familiar non-state actors without qualifying them as full-fledged armies. Whether the bulldozers and social media savvy of ISIL, the missiles and electronic warfare of Hezbollah, or the high-altitude air defense of the Ukrainian rebels, all these forces have deployed capabilities traditionally associated with nation-states. The hybrid warriors have merged these capabilities with traditional insurgent tactics in their fight against nation-state forces.

While the debate rages on about the utility of the concepts of “hybrid warfare” and “gray zone conflict,” this article is not about these debates. This article is agnostic as to whether these types of warfare are best called “hybrid wars” or “political warfare.” It is similarly agnostic as to whether the “gray zone” concept is “hopelessly muddled “or “real and identifiable.” These debates, while important, are not what this piece attempts to settle. Rather than discuss the strategies and operations conducted in these ambiguous physical and legal spaces, this paper is concerned with the new actors emerging in said spaces. This essay maintains that there is something interesting and new occurring, as it relates to the actors operating in this space. While calling them “hybrid warriors” when the larger concept of “hybrid warfare” is still deeply contested may be linguistically problematic, there is no necessary linkage between the terms. That these fighters are a “hybrid” of insurgent and state-sponsored strains seems very clear, and therefore appropriate, regardless of distinct and separate debates over the characteristics of the environment.

Hybrid warriors are new (or at least new to us). These non-state hybrid warriors have adopted significant capabilities of an industrial or post-industrial nation-state army that allow them to contest the security forces of nation-states with varying degrees of success. Retaining ties to the population and a devotion to the “propaganda of the deed” that characterizes their insurgent and terrorist cousins, these non-state hybrid warriors present a challenge unfamiliar to most modern security analysts (though those who fought against either America’s 19th-century native tribes or the medieval Knights Templar, might see similarities).

Hybrid warriors specialize in the ambiguity of the “gray zone,” a term this essay will continue to use despite its definitional issues. While they can both administer territory (at the low end of the spectrum) and fight conventional war (at the high end), it is in the spaces in between that they truly excel. Girded by their relative safety from police forces, immunity from international norms (characteristic of all places where the state and rule of law are weak), and the active or passive support of the population, these hybrid warriors enjoy a low degree of risk, at least when compared to open warfare against Western interests. Within their sanctuaries — so long as they survive the occasional airstrike or commando raid — hybrid warriors face few security concerns, save when local armies probe the boundaries of their loosely controlled terrain. And yet — as the United States clearly learned on 9/11 — non-state groups possess a new ability to launch attacks against the integrated state system. These hybrid warriors live among the insurgents and counter-insurgents, terrorists and counter-terrorists, spies, saboteurs, propagandists, organized criminals, and money launderers — but while they may participate in any number of these activities, they are not limited by them.

Read the Remainder at War on the Rocks

 

Dose of Truth: The U.S. Governments Counter-Terrorism Policy Summed Up 7 Words

“He’s Not Supposed to Be Doing That” 

“Well, Senator, he’s not supposed to be doing that. And there are consequences for that, and there will be.” Really? What are they, and how will they be administered? Will Ibrahim al Qosi be recaptured? Will there be a military expedition to Yemen to do so? Will the Saudis help? Or is John Kerry just banking on the forgetfulness of the news cycle to get this whole thing shoved under the rug and Gitmo closed?

 

“Kerry on Gitmo Detainee Who Returned to Terrorism: ‘He’s Not Supposed to Be Doing That,’” by Aaron Kliegman, Washington Free Beacon, February 24, 2016 (thanks to Pamela Geller):

Secretary of State John Kerry lamented Wednesday that a terrorist who the Obama administration released from the military prison at Guantanamo Bay subsequently returned to fight for al Qaeda, telling lawmakers “he’s not supposed to be doing that.”

Appearing before the State, Foreign Operations, and Related Programs Subcommittee of the Senate Appropriations Committee, Kerry made the statement while testifying about the State Department’s budget request for the fiscal year 2017.

During the hearing, Sen. Mark Kirk (R., Ill.) asked Kerry for his thoughts on Ibrahim al Qosi, the former Guantanamo detainee who is now a prominent al Qaeda leader, and had staffers hold up a picture of the terrorist for Kerry to see.

“Let me just ask one question,” Kirk said to Kerry. “I want to show you a picture of Ibrahim al Qosi, who was recently released by the administration to the Sudanese, and he appeared on some al Qaeda videos recruiting people for AQAP [al Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula].”

Kirk went on to say, “Now that he’s out, I would hope we would end the policy of issuing terrorists to terrorist nations, and where they can get out.”

Sudan, where al Qosi was released, has a long history of terrorist activity with Sunni jihadist groups and individuals like al Qaeda and Osama bin Laden as well as with the Islamic Republic of Iran. The Sudanese government has also been internationallyaccused of committing genocide in Darfur.

Kerry paused for a moment before saying to Kirk, “Well, Senator, he’s not supposed to be doing that. And there are consequences for that, and there will be. But apart from that, the fact is that we’ve got people who’ve been held without charges for 13 years, 14 years in some cases. That’s not American, that’s not how we operate.”

Al Qosi was an aide to Osama bin Laden when he was taken to Guantanamo in 2002. He was released 10 years later after pleading guilty to war crimes in 2010 and was sent to his native Sudan. Upon the terrorist’s release, his lawyer, Paul Reichler, said al Qosi was looking forward to a quiet life of freedom, but the two never had contact after al Qosi left Guantanamo.

Al Qosi remerged this month as a prominent figure in AQAP propaganda videos calling for the takeover of Saudi Arabia and an end to the U.S.-Saudi alliance.

This recent development came shortly before President Obama announced his plan on Tuesday to close Guantanamo by releasing many of the remaining 91 detainees to foreign countries and transferring the rest to a prison on U.S. soil.

While it is currently illegal to move any of the detainees to the United States, Obama is hoping Congress will change the law so he can implement the policy, although majorities in both houses of Congress oppose the move….

Opponents of the president also point to the fact that the recidivism rate for released detainees who return to the battlefield is 30 percent, citing al Qosi as just one example of many.

Read the Original Article at Jihad Watch

As a Vet, Here’s How I feel Watching Continued Fighting in A-Stan

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Marine veteran Chris Jones, who served with the infantry in Afghanistan, reflects on the 15th year of the Afghan War.

Last year, thousands of Iraq combat veterans watched the country they’d fought in fall to ISIS. Days ago, a dusty city named Marjah made headlines after a Special Forces soldier was killed there. The same dusty goat trails and wadis I walked through for two years scrolled up the screen as I read of yet another American killed in a city American contractors built in the 1950s.

When I was in Marjah, a running gag in the platoon was the saying, “Well, at least we’re not in Iraq.” We were “surge babies,” part of the tens of thousands of Americans who’d enlisted after Obama’s troop surge. We’d been trained by men who’d fought in Iraq since 2003, men who’d intimately known places like Fallujah, al Asad, Ramadi, and Baghdad. For us, these were hallowed grounds, ones we were bred by the Corps to give a religious amount of respect. The Marines who’d fought there were heroes to us. No matter how brutal Marjah got, it was not the door-to-door bloodbath of Fallujah, not the vicious slug-out that was Ramadi. It was both a self-admonishing check on our hubris, ensuring that we did not get to full of ourselves in the beauty of our death dealing, and a quick moment of respect to those that had made us the Marines we were.

Related: For those who fought in Marjah, it was more than just a battle.

As ISIS surged across Iraq last year, I remember sitting on a couch in Manhattan wondering what it must be like for all the Fallujah veterans who were watching their old battleground be overrun by the modern version of their former enemy. I felt grateful that my city was, as far as I knew, still in the hands of the good guys. I desperately clung to the last shred of my “good war” mentality. I told myself that Marjah would be different. It was a long shot, yes, but somehow the Afghan army we left behind would hold. The local police we’d armed and joked with on patrol would find it within themselves to hold strong against the Taliban. I didn’t know if I could handle seeing what I’d spent four years doing be shown on live TV as having been for nothing.

ISIS is not in Marjah. The Taliban is. Because it is the Taliban and not ISIS, Marjah (and the rest of Helmand) will most likely not stay on the news. The Taliban aren’t flashy enough to warrant obsessing over during cable news coverage. After 15 years, American media has given up on trying to make Afghanistan sexy. ISIS puts way more production value into its work anyways, and this pays off in the media. So I won’t have to watch a truck full of Taliban rolling down Route Gorilla, past the compound I spent eight months in on CNN. I won’t see men in suits yell at each other on TV over how to stop the Taliban. I won’t watch the Afghan army be ridiculed for cowardice by TV pundits who’ve never shoved their head in a ditch while bullets sing to them. I won’t have to hear 20-somethings in the Upper West Side widen their eyes and gasp at each other about how horrific the latest Taliban killing video was, but ohmygosh, it looked just like a movie.

But I did pull out the map I brought back from Helmand and traced the route that Special Forces soldiers would have had to drive down to rescue their friends last week. I did watch the last 30 minutes of a documentary about the Afghan army in Helmand. I did stare blankly at a friend over a cigarette and coffee, and while he talked, I thought only of Marjah.

But hey.

At least it wasn’t Iraq.

Read the Original Article at Task and Purpose