Patrolling Baghdad's Dora neighborhood, where 'gators' lurk

In the heart of Dora's main market, amid the smashed-up and bullet- riddled facades of the Juburi butchery, the Nineva pickle shop, and the Saudi poultry store, and inside what was once the Hope X-ray clinic, lies combat outpost Gator.

The word "swamp" is scrawled in green and black marker on the window of the outpost's command room.

"Alligators live in swamps," jokes Sgt. Maj. Doug Maddi of the 2nd Battalion, 12th Infantry Regiment.

Swamp may not be a far-fetched metaphor for Dora. The predominantly Sunni Arab district in southern Baghdad has, over the past few years, become a byword for lawlessness and mayhem for Baghdadis.

The US military touts its success in reducing the level of violence in the area, which is home to the capital's main oil refinery and power plant and sits at the crossroads of several major highways. Given how bad the situation was before US intervention in Dora, some of the soldiers could be forgiven for being optimistic. Since troops began aggressively patrolling the Dora market in December and setting up several garrisons, including Gator, two weeks ago, some merchants have returned to the market.

But all signs indicate that it may be too late to reverse the dynamic on the ground and bring peace to this troubled, yet strategic, corner of Baghdad.

Dora, which was traditionally popular with government employees during Saddam Hussein's regime, began its descent in early 2004 as attacks escalated on police stations and public infrastructure. Two churches were bombed in August 2004, driving out most of the tiny, but once thriving, Christian community.

The following year saw the start of a local campaign to drive out the Shiites. Sunni militants stepped up attacks against Shiite pilgrims passing through Dora on their way to shrines in Najaf and Karbala further south. Sectarian killing reached an apex last year, and now most Shiites have been squeezed into the Abu Dsheir neighborhood south of Dora.

Sunni residents who hold government or municipal functions, or who are believed to be assisting Iraqi and US forces, have not been spared from the killings and kidnappings. Most have fled to Jordan and Syria.

A no-go neighborhood

"I am here to work with you to clean up the takfeer in the area," Col. Ricky Gibbs, commander of the 4th Brigade, 1st Infantry Division, to which Sergeant Major Maddi's unit is attached, tells his Iraqi counterparts at a joint security station not far from the Gator outpost. The Iraqis smile.

Takfeer is the generic Arabic word for a hard-line brand of Sunni Islam whose followers excommunicate all those they deem to be nonbelievers.

A representative of Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki, who is visiting Dora, begins a litany of complaints by Iraqi forces.

"I need your timely cooperation ... many officers complain about delays in backup. Please do not be stingy with your support, the enemy is targeting you and us, no exception," Brig. Gen. Khalid Hamoud tells Colonel Gibbs.

Gibbs, who took official command of Dora in early March as part of the surge in US troops, shoots back and tells him that the main obstacle to security is the fact that at least 30 percent of the national police in Dora are on leave at all times. The government, says Gibbs, has yet to send enough forces to the area to help pacify the neighborhoods.

Several sections of Dora continue to be no-go zones for government forces. Most of the battle-hardened residents reject government authority and are enraged with the predominantly Shiite national police. They accuse it of committing innumerable atrocities over the past year of sectarian bloodletting.

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