Iraqi Women Train as Police Officers

B A G H D A D, Iraq, Nov. 4, 2004 -- I stood behind the firing range and watched a class at target practice. Police trainees were lined up, hunched over AK-47s, in deep concentration. When instructors gave the command, they took aim. I jumped as several rounds were fired. It's a sound you never get used to.

I am not comfortable with an automatic weapon going off next to me. And I am not the only person here who is adjusting to a new environment. For most people in Iraq, this is the first time they will see women, some in traditional head scarves, with guns cocked and ready to use them.

And not everyone is happy about it.

Some 250 women have signed up to train with the Facilities Protection Services, a security program within the Iraqi police force and under the watchful eye of the Ministry of Interior. So far 100 female trainees have graduated, but getting them out on the job has been a slow process. So far, only around 20 women are working.

"We love the job and the hard work," one trainee, the mother of five children, tells me with a big smile.

Her enthusiasm and determination are echoed by the other women. "We want to work, and we want stability and security in Iraq," says another woman.

Moms on a Mission

The trainees line up in military fashion, all clad in various styles of long-sleeved gray shirts and gray pants. Some are bareheaded; others cover their heads with scarves. These pioneers of a coed Iraqi police force come in all shapes and sizes, but there really isn't an athletic physique among them. Many of them would remind you of your mother — and all of them are on a mission.

Most of the trainees I spoke with told me their families and husbands support them in their new jobs. There are reservations, they admit, from some male relatives, but the $60-a-month salary is much-needed income.

"Some of the men don't allow a lady to work — but my family and my husband gave me permission to do this, they support me in this," a woman named Senah tells me as she adjusts her green head scarf.

"I'm not married," says a younger woman in broken English, "and I must earn my own money. We are a poor family."

During a three-day course, they learn to handle a gun, handcuff unruly suspects and frisk people, all with varying success.

Instructors in class and on the firing range, and even their fellow male police officers, are enthusiastic about the women's progress. But not all the Iraqis overseeing the new police program support the idea of women security guards.

"In all the work, you have idea. I have different idea," says a man who identifies himself as Gen. Ahmed Ibrahim.

Each female graduate is reviewed by the Interior Ministry before she is assigned to guard a prominent location in the city.

Much of the reluctance to mainstream these women officers into the city's security force seems to come from officials higher up the chain of command. So it has been up to the American forces, working alongside the Iraqi police, to keep the women's spirits high and keep an eye on the program.

Up for Debate

And the U.S. troops get an earful, they say. The graduating class, which I followed for a day, was extremely vocal about their concerns that the program might be canceled. It was, indeed, canceled for one day, until an all-female U.S. congressional delegation came to visit the women in their training class the next morning.

The trainees gathered around the delegation and a translator told the congresswomen: "They say no salary, they say no duty, they say no jobs."

The Iraqi police were quick to downplay these concerns from the American visitors. "No cancel. We will do another group. Many men, they liked this idea. Some, he give his sisters, his wife. Another one he gives his daughter," Ibrahim explained during a ceremony for the congresswomen, assuring all of us the women's training program will continue.

I went to an official government site in the city to find some of the new graduates at work. There I found five female officers, in gray uniforms and flak jackets, guarding the entrance alongside their male colleagues. The women looked relaxed as, armed with a metal detector, they waited for their next female visitor to inspect.

I came through the gate. "Are you scared to be standing here, after all the recent explosions?" I asked. They all answered me with the same resolute manner of the new trainees back at the academy: "No, we are not scared. We are here to help our country."

I do wonder if Iraq is ready to accept this decidedly Western approach to law enforcement and continue the female police security program after the U.S. military leaves. But if these women have anything to say about it, they will fight to keep their jobs.

As one recent graduate told me, "Bit by bit, they will accept this situation. They must accept this. It will take time."