Big Game: U.S. Soldiers’ Secret Hunt for Jihadists in a Kenyan Forest
The
United States is waging secret warfare around the world. The operations in and
around Kenya’s Boni National Reserve on the Somali border are some of the most
mysterious.
02.08.17 6:03 AM ET
A short, bloody raid by
U.S. Special Operations Forces on an al Qaeda base in Yemen in the second week
of Donald Trump’s presidency was a fleeting reminder to the world that
Americans are engaged in secret and not-so-secret wars
around the globe. But
most of the action is not as dramatic as the Yemen attack in which a U.S. Navy SEAL was killed,
an 8-year-old girl died,
and a $70 million aircraft crash landed
and had to be destroyed. All
that took place in the space of a couple of hours. But most of these wars are
long grinds fought far from prying eyes in close cooperation with local forces
that often are notorious for torture and other human rights abuses. And nowhere
have those fights gone on so long, or in such obscurity, as in Africa. This is
the first of an occasional series that will shine some light into those
shadows.
LAMU, Kenya—Tucked into
the northeast end of the country’s coast, the Boni National Reserve is a
fairy-tale paradise, a resplendent ecosystem packed with elephantine baobab
trees and hydra-headed doum palms. This mix of riverine forest and swampy
grassland is home to some of the country’s largest herds of game, and to rare
species like the wild dog, Somali lion, and reticulated giraffe.
There are no rhinoceros
left here, but Doza Diza, 66, talks about seeing kifaru often. The safari word
for rhino has been re-purposed by the locals as a name for the armor-plated
Humvees whose machine-gun mounts recall the animal’s distinctive horn.
Tall, gaunt, and with a
bad eye, Doza Diza wears a traditional Somali sarong and a Muslim skullcap. He
describes himself as a former county councilor and crab fisherman.
These motorized rhino can
be distinguished by color, he says. The dark green ones are vehicles operated
by the Kenya Defense Forces, KDF, he tells me. Those painted the color of sand
belong to the Americans.
Doza is an elder of his
tribe, the Awer (also spelled Aweer). They are hunter-gatherers who seek out
honey by following birds, talk to crocodiles and hippos in tongues the beasts
are said to understand, and generally stick to their ancient way of life. The
Awer are also Muslims, which is highly unusual among the world’s few remaining
stone-age peoples.
They’ve long inhabited
the Boni forest region, but slowly and surely their way of life is being
stripped from them. Subsistence hunting was banned in Kenya in the 1970s, so
any meat the Awer procure is illegal. Poverty further marginalizes
them. And now the tribe is caught in the crossfire of the global war
on terror.
***
How will the new
administration in Washington deal with this and other semi-clandestine wars
being waged by the United States around the world? Donald Trump has a penchant
for former generals, with Michael Flynn, a
longtime U.S. Army intelligence officer as his national security adviser, and
retired Marine Corps Gen. James Mattis, a veteran
of counterinsurgencies in Afghanistan and Iraq, who is now secretary of
defense. Trump’s close advisor Steve Bannon also fancies himself
a brilliant armchair general. But
Washington is a long way from the Boni forest and the very special sort of
battlefield it represents.
As The New
York Times reported
in October and November the United States has been escalating the “shadow war” inside
Somalia with “the potential for the United States to be drawn ever more deeply
into a trouble country that so far has stymied all efforts to fix it.”
The Times, quoting unnamed “senior
American military officials,” estimated that “about 200 to 300 American Special
Operations troops work with soldiers from Somalia and other African nations
like Kenya and Uganda to carry out more than a half-dozen raids per month.” And
it outlined a program in which private contractors employed by the U.S. also
play a significant role.
But the shadow war inside
the failed-state borders of Somalia is almost transparent compared to the
activities here on the ill-defined edge of that war. There is a long history of
countries on the fringes of conflict being sucked into war themselves, the most
notable example being Cambodia during the Vietnam debacle. Whether Washington
will help prevent such an outcome—or provoke it—is an open question.
***
The area in and around
the Boni National Reserve is one of many places in Africa where American
personnel are deployed with little fanfare and, indeed, as secretly as
Washington’s representatives and proxies can manage.
Repeated and detailed queries
to U.S. Africa Command (AFRICOM) for clarification of the American role here on
the frontier between Kenya and Somalia were answered this month with a brief
response explaining why not even a background briefing was possible: “As these
operations are currently ongoing, and have elements of U.S. special forces
assisting, we cannot comment at this time due to operational security reasons.”
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A major part of the
mission those U.S. special forces are “assisting” in this part of the continent
is, in fact, to hunt down and kill members of the Somali group known as
al-Shabaab who threaten Kenya’s security and, through the group’s close
relationship with al Qaeda, are believed to threaten America’s as well.
The counterterror and
counterinsurgency forces operating in the region would like the Awer to help
them track the Somali guerrillas and terrorists. But that project is not going
well in an operation reminiscent of many sorry histories around the world where
local tribes and minorities have been instrumentalized, abused, and very often
abandoned.
U.S. Special Forces
(Green Berets), other Special Operations Forces of various stripes, State
Department officials, the inevitable slews of American contractors, and spooks
and commandos from countries with close ties to the United States, including
the Brits, Israelis, and Jordanians, have all deployed here in an undeclared if
not unmentioned U.S.-backed war.
Kenya’s government and
its international partners—the heavyweights being the U.S. and the U.K.—are
desperate to make this region safe for engineers, imported skilled
workers, and, yes, tourists. But the current intense counterterror
focus has been a slow build, and not hugely effective. For the moment, anyone
who ventures into the Boni forest risks getting blown up by an IED.
Indeed, as if mocking
attempts by the Kenyan government to establish the forest and its coast as a
destination resort, al-Shabaab released a recruitment video in 2015 boasting
about the bountiful game in the forest provided by Allah to sustain
jihadi fighters.
One ranch with a tourist
concession that had been a haunt of jet-setters and celebrities (Kristin
Davis, one of the stars of Sex
in the City, had been a guest) found itself converted into a haven for
al-Shabaab sympathizers in 2014. They stole food and medicine then torched the
facility’s guest huts.
There is a long and
bloody history behind such incidents, which we’ll look at in a subsequent
installment of this series. But the short history has been the stuff of
fleeting headlines for more than five years.
In October 2011, Kenya sent
troops into Somalia. Since then al-Shabaab has carried out massive
retaliatory hits on targets in Kenya resulting in more than 300 deaths.
Kenyan officials believe
that after the spectacular 2013 Westgate Mall attack in Nairobi that killed at least 70 people, al-Shabaab retreated
from Kenya’s urban areas and melted into the dense Boni forest—which sits on
the coast, right on the country’s north-south border with Somalia and adjacent to what was once a Somali
national park.
Officials say another
massacre, the 2014 Mpeketoni attack,
which left 48 dead, was staged from within the forest, and that the Garissa University attack of 2015,
which left at least 148 dead, was organized within the enormous Dadaab refugee
camp nearby (which the Kenyan government plans to
shut down, further displacing more than 300,000 people).
Jaysh Aman, the
al-Shabaab cell in the forest, reportedly was comprised of
some 300 fighters in 2015, but its
numbers certainly vary.
Following the Westgate
attack (which was later the subject of an extraordinary HBO documentary)
national and Western forces were in an all-out scramble to protect Kenya from
further cross-border terrorism. After the Garissa attack, Kenya asked the U.S.
and other Western nations for more and better assistance.
According to human rights
groups, the counterinsurgency tactics that accompanied the build-up of U.S.
assistance have featured mass police sweeps, arbitrary detentions,
disappearances, and summary executions targeting not only al-Shabaab suspects,
but alleged sympathizers and Muslim communities generally.
In October 2015 the Kenya
National Commission for Human Rights (KNCHR) released a report documenting
disappearances and killings of residents and suspects along the Somalia border
and the Kenya coast. Worshippers were grabbed as they left mosques and Kenya
Wildlife Service (KWS) rangers allegedly shot dead cattle herders, most of whom
are Muslim, in east Kenya (PDF).
During President Barack
Obama’s visit to Kenya in July of 2015, he stepped into the fray, allocating
$100 million for the Kenya Defense Forces for weapons, materiel, and vehicles.
The allowance was a 163 percent increase in counterterrorism assistance over
the previous year. Among Kenya’s purchases: a Boeing Unmanned Aerial Vehicle—a
drone—at a price of $9.8 million. Each year since 2012 the Kenyan government
has asked for security assistance from the West.
The most recent installment—approved
by the State Department days after Trump’s inauguration, but still not through
Congress—is a $418 million
package that
includes crop dusters converted for low, slow, high impact attacks targeting
people on the ground.
The extent to which the
Trump administration will continue or cut back economic assistance in Africa is
unclear, with some reports suggesting those funds will be reduced. In one of
several pointed
queries the Trump White House sent to the State Department it said bluntly, “We’ve been fighting al-Shabaab for a decade,
why haven’t we won?” But such questions offer little hint of a new
strategy, apart from efforts to shore up Fortress America at its frontiers.
Somalia was one of the seven Muslim majority
countries whose
citizens were banned temporarily by Trump’s controversial executive order.
Obama’s theme was known
as “the 3-D approach” to the region’s conflicts—defense, diplomacy, and
development. And in the two months following his historic visit to the land of
his father, Kenya’s government announced that a “multi-agency” security force
had been assembled to carry out counterterror measures against al-Shabaab.
The force consisted of
paramilitary units within Kenya’s police, Kenya Defense Forces special forces,
and various state agencies, including the National Intelligence Service,
Military Intelligence, the Kenya Wildlife Service and Forest Service—all
trained by Western police units and special forces.
***
On Sept. 11 of 2015,
Kenya formally launched “Operation Linda Boni” (Linda Boni being Swahili for
“protect the Boni”). The goal set a two-month timetable to drive the insurgents
from the forest. It is still going on.
The first stage of this
effort was cordoning off the Boni forest as a collection of “no-go zones,” and
evacuation of all residents. Those who remained would be regarded as al-Shabaab
sympathizers.
This branded the Awer,
Kenyan citizens, as the enemy.
Security officials
contend that Somali fighters have taken up residence, with their wives and
children, deep inside
the Boni forest.
Doza Diza and other Awer
leaders say that is true.
They say al-Shabaab has
coerced them into providing shelter in mosques and schools, logistical support,
chiefly in the form of food and medicine, and have forced tribespeople to track
game for them.
But the Awer also are
quick to say that violence and threats against them come from both sides in
this conflict.
Kenyan officials claim
that Somali attackers burned the huts of the Awer, while the Awer say that
Kenya Defense Forces (KDF) burned those shelters in an effort to force them to
comply with the evacuation.
Doza reports that
guerrillas took his people’s food and issued warnings not to reveal their
whereabouts to Kenya security, “Otherwise, we’ll deal with you.” Aside from
this, he notes, the insurgents are polite. “Al-Shabaab rob from us, but they
don’t beat us or grab our land—the way Kenya forces do.”
Linda Boni has not only
run long beyond its planned two-month timetable, it has extended far beyond the
forest and its region into much of northeast Kenya.
In the process it has
become apparent that the KDF’s
counterterror tactics involve
more than eradicating
the al-Shabaab presence in the forest.
By the end of 2015, the
KDF announced it was expanding its area of deployment into neighboring counties
along the Somali border and south some 200 miles, to the Tana River,
constructing additional police stations and military camps. The Baragoni camp
on the southern fringe of the Boni-Dodori National Reserve expanded its area to
800 acres of ostensibly public land.
Kenya is building a
435-mile Western-funded security wall at the nation’s eastern border. On a
visit to Kenya last year, Israel’s Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, a big fan of walls in the Holy
Land and in the U.S. as well, committed funds to the project.
Kenya’s President Uhuru Kenyatta reportedly has suggested building a
terrorist-only prison facility within the Boni forest.
Land grabs in
northeastern Kenya are nothing new. In the ’80s the Kenyan government seized
land during a counterinsurgency operations against ethnic Somalis inhabiting
the area. Now locals—ethnic Somalis and Muslim communities generally—suspect
that military expansion is an excuse to take more land in and around an area
where the Kenya government, the Chinese, and several multinational companies
have plans for an oil-related infrastructure mega-development.
The KDF concedes that the
forest is a national reserve but insists it is gazetted as government land, not
communal land.
Doza suggests that the
only power able to help his people stop the abuses is the U.S. government—the
people behind the people in the “rhinoceros” Hummers.
Since the Westgate
attack, the KDF base at Baragoni has grown from a temporary camp to a permanent
one, and by 2015 Kenya had deployed enough of its troops there with sufficient
transport to foil a Shabaab attack aimed at destroying the Baure camp, which is
36 miles north of the Baragoni base.
(In that action a year
and a half ago the KDF killed 11 militants, including an British man named
Thomas Evans who’d been dubbed “the White Beast” in U.K. tabloids. The KDF
paraded his corpse—along with others—in nearby Mpeketoni, where counterterror
operations are headquartered. The British press subsequently posted video that appears to show the nighttime engagement filmed the day he
died.)
But the reach of the
Baragoni base stretches far beyond a few satellite camps.
***
Swaleh Msellem, a Swahili
resident of Lamu Island, manages a petrol station at the Mokowe jetty a few
kilometers across a channel on the mainland. Msellem, now 30, told me how one
morning he’d docked his boat at the jetty where at least a dozen non-uniformed
men, whom he claims were with the paramilitary wing of Kenya’s National Police
Service, had been waiting for him.
Someone pulled a hood
over his head and tossed him into a vehicle. Familiar with the area and its
roads, he said he could tell he was driven some 40 kilometers away to the Baragoni
military base, where he was detained in a shipping container and tortured.
Some of the techniques
used on him were repeated mock drownings (a variation on waterboarding) and
crushing of testicles. These were done, he said, to extract a confession that he
planned a deadly attack in the nearby village of Hindi, soon after the
Mpekatoni massacre. He denied this. The interrogators asked where the weapons
were that were used for the attacks. “Which weapons?” he answered.
The KDF continued to
grill him, insisting he had information. He told me that during that detention
he was driven from Baragoni to an area nearby where he witnessed the execution
of two al-Shabaab fighters by a firing squad. One afternoon he complained of
feeling ill. Guards took him outside to a pond where he vomited. Through his
loosened blindfold he was able to glimpse crocodiles on the berm of the pond.
Why were crocodiles being
kept inside a military base, he wondered.
Msellem said soldiers
later threatened that he’d be fed to the crocodiles like others had been if he
didn’t cooperate. After two weeks he was transferred to the port town of
Mombasa, to the south, and held several months at the infamous Shimo La Tewa
prison in a wing reserved for terrorists. Msellem eventually was taken into
court, where he was acquitted of all murder and terror-related charges for lack
of evidence.
When I interviewed
Msellem, he was grimly philosophical. Although he did not see or talk to any
U.S. personnel, as far as he knew, he had no doubt they played some role behind
the scenes. “The Americans are very complicated, aren't they? On the one hand they
are helping us by building roads, dispensaries, schools, but they also seem to
want to kill us.”
In that one observation
Msellem summed up the Jekyll and Hyde nature of the “3-D approach to U.S.
Foreign Policy”: defense, diplomacy, and development.
A human rights report
from the government-funded Kenya National Commission on Human Rights documents
the abuse of Msellem (PDF),
but does not cite it as having taken place in part (or at all) at Baragoni.
I spoke with Otsieno
Namwaya, Africa researcher for Human Rights Watch, about the possibility of
suspects being thrown to the crocodiles. He said he'd interviewed a local who
was one survivor among four al-Shabaab suspects thrown in the Tana River behind
a military camp. But as it was a single source he couldn't report it. “This is
Kenya—anything can happen,” he said.
For information from
inside the Baragoni base, I spoke with a man who identified himself as a
Western-trained Kenyan Special Forces soldier serving with one of the SF
battalions. (Photos of him clad in fatigues and standing with fellow soldiers
in a garrison in Somalia would seem to confirm his identity.)
This soldier described to
me the process of “enhanced interrogation”—torture—used at Baragoni military
base. He confirmed that people were detained in shipping containers, but said
he hadn’t heard anything about suspects being thrown to the crocodiles.
He said that sometimes
the National Intelligence Service detains and interrogates suspects at the
nearby Manda Bay navy base. “But they [NIS] don’t force you to say anything,”
he told me. “When you're brought to Baragoni you're forced to talk.”
According to a map I was
shown and was able to examine at length, the Baragoni base is operated by
Kenya’s Directorate of Military Intelligence.
It would seem prisoners
taken in action have little hope of survival. “If there’s been direct
engagement [with al-Shabaab] we capture them and they're taken to Baragoni,”
said the same soldier. “If they don't have any useful information then they are
being killed. Those that give information or say where the weapons will be are
shot dead.”
By the time the soldier’s
deployment ended, he said, several dozen detainees remained in the shipping
containers with partitions. Former detainees and a law enforcement official
said that as recently as July 2016 there were as many as 16 containers, each
housing at least six prisoners.
The soldiers said some
suspects were ferried by helicopter to an especially inaccessible area inside
the Boni forest, where they were shot dead. Hunters from the Awer report
finding human remains where they collect honey.
***
In November 2015, a Lamu
resident I see often told me that Lamu County’s government was organizing a
baraza—a meeting—between Awer elders and government representatives from
Nairobi, to enable the tribespeople to voice complaints about the KDF’s
actions. The baraza was to take place at a restaurant on the mainland. I
decided to crash the event.
When I arrived near the
entrance of the restaurant there was quite a crowd milling around. At least
three dozen Kenyan soldiers and police stood guard, blocking the road to the
venue. At the cordon, I observed uniformed military personnel, mostly white,
driving sand-colored armor-plated Humvees, those that Doza Diza had called
“kifaru.”
Officers on the ground
were armed with what KDF personnel identified as U.S.-manufactured FN SCAR
automatic assault rifles, a very high-tech killing machine capable
of firing 625 rounds a minute. Indeed, they are the U.S. Special
Operations Command’s newest
service rifle. German, Belgian, and Japanese special forces also reportedly
used this gun. Kenya reportedly is the only African nation where the U.S. has
issued this type of weapon.
In addition,
representatives of the Red Cross and Safari Doctors were on hand for the Mokowe
meeting but had until recently been barred from the Boni forest altogether.
Also on hand were
personnel with U.S. Civil Military Affairs, the guys who handle the
hearts-and-minds component of counterinsurgency, building on experiences in
Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos, and Central America. CMA is a key part of the Linda
Boni effort focusing on wildlife and indigenous peoples. It sees to the
building of the latrines, the roads, the schools, and medical dispensaries
while “denying sanctuary” to insurgents.
Through USAID Civil
Military Affairs has partnered with the Kenya Wildlife Service and rangers with
wildlife conservation NGOs. KWS training is funded by USAID, and, after the
2013 Westgate attack, its rangers have been trained by Maisha Consult.
The only people present
at the meeting who were up front about their identities were KDF officers, whom
I spoke to on arrival. One guarding the perimeter identified himself as a GSU
officer, referring to the paramilitary wing in the Kenya National Police
Service. I asked him whether I could attend the meeting, shortly after which a
blonde-haired blue-eyed uniformed soldier returned.
I explained I was a
writer researching the Awer’s predicament.
“Are you an American?” he
asked. I handed him my tattered U.S. passport. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said with
an engaging smile, and left promising to return to let me know whether I could
attend the baraza.
Others present, also
heavily armed, wore civilian clothing—Dockers, polo shirts, and wraparound
sunglasses. The locals refer to such armed Western personnel in casual wear as
"sport sports.”
One source, within the
U.S. government, preferring to remain anonymous, identified these figures as a
U.S. Diplomatic Security Service contingent protecting American diplomats at
the baraza.
I never did gain access.
(Media outlets associated with the Kenyan government had been invited;
international press had not.) Awer leaders who spoke at the meeting, including
Doza Diza, said they were eager to tell the U.S. representatives they no longer
wanted to deal directly with the KDF or Kenya government because those entities
had failed to make good on promises of land compensation.
Locals told me that the
U.S. Agency for International Development, USAID, had given each tribal elder
4,000 Kenyan shillings (about $40) to attend, and provided meals and transport.
As part of
counterinsurgency strategy, such meetings are supposed to help build local
security forces, legitimize local government, and ultimately delegitimize the
insurgents. But as long as the locals believe the government is stealing their
land, meetings are unlikely to have much of a legitimizing effect. And
meanwhile the fighting continues.
A former U.S. Army
colonel with long experience in civil affairs, who did not want to be named,
added another layer.
“Special Operations
Command (SOCOM) is a relatively lean organization and continues to rely on
contracted support for administration, logistics, operations, intelligence, and
physical security,” he told The Daily Beast. “Think the old Blackwater and Executive
Outcomes.”
It’s not uncommon to hear
about U.S. Special Forces on the ground in fragile states like Somalia and
Iraq, but seeing them in a sovereign democratic state—Kenya—seemed unusual.
U.S. military presence in
Kenya had been sparse until the 9/11 attacks. “Boots on the ground” in Kenya
was practically unheard of. In Somalia it also was virtually nonexistent for
more than 20 years after the infamous “Black Hawk Down” incident in 1993.
But clearly all that has
changed.
—with additional reporting by Christopher Dickey
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