Settling in for long campaign to free Mosul from Islamic State

A member of the Iraqi forces holds a position in the al-Shura area, south of Mosul, during the operation to retake the main hub city from the Islamic State.

As I write, Iraqi and Kurdish forces — supported by coalition airstrikes, artillery and advisers — are entering the third week of their attack on Mosul, probing the outskirts of the city. They are edging into a complex and lethal urban battlefield, the biggest in Iraq since the US-led invasion of 2003. Indeed, Mosul is shaping up as the largest and most challenging urban battle, anywhere, so far this century.

Until now, the biggest in Iraq had been at Fallujah, 400km south of Mosul, which saw intense combat between US forces and ­insurgents in March-April and November 2004. That battle ­involved 17,000 combatants, on all sides, in a city with a nominal population of 200,000 — though most civilians fled before the ­fighting. The battle of Ramadi, late last year, was the second largest, and involved 15,000 combatants in a town of 350,000.

By comparison, Mosul is Iraq’s second city, and the largest and most important urban centre in northern Iraq. More than a million civilians, of its original population of 1.5 million, remain in the city, trapped between 6000 ­Islamic State defenders and more than 100,000 attacking troops.

That makes Mosul six times larger than Fallujah or Ramadi in terms of combatants, and at least three times larger in terms of civilians involved.

For comparable battles in terms of size, number of troops, application of firepower and ­importance of cities involved, you’d need to go back to the Ko­r­ean War or World War II.

Given this immense scale, Iraqi and Kurdish commanders, with their international advisers, have said they think the battle may take weeks, perhaps months, while the effort to stabilise the city and surrounding districts could last well into the second half of next year.

DOWNLOAD MAP: The battle for Mosul

Mosul will have huge significance for Iraq’s fight against ­Islamic State, not because its ­recapture would destroy the group, reduce the global threat of terrorism or end the ethno-­sectarian conflict tearing the Middle East apart. None of that will happen: rather, Islamic State will certainly survive the loss of Mosul, global terrorism is actually likely to spike in the immediate aftermath of the battle, and the ­regional conflict is nowhere close to stabilising. But the recapture of Mosul — which, aside from the towns of Tal Afar and Hawija, and a few villages near the Syrian border, is the last major Iraqi city held by ­Islamic State — would end the conventional phase of the present conflict in Iraq.

Militarily, it would reduce ­Islamic State to a primarily rural (though still very powerful) guer­illa force, rather than the state-like army, with hundreds of tanks and dozens of modern artillery pieces, that emerged in June 2014 to ­conduct a conventional war of movement.

Politically, retaking Mosul would weaken the most potent symbol of the so-called caliphate’s staying power: its ability to hold terrain, govern a population (albeit in a rudimentary manner, with horrendous brutality), ­ad­min­ister a major city, and thereby portray itself as a functioning state. And combined with the ­assault on Raqqa in Syria, set to start in the next two weeks, the loss of Mosul would pressure both ends of Islamic State’s territory.

The campaign to retake Mosul has been building throughout 2016, punctuated by offensives in surrounding districts, creation of supply routes and firebases, and the training and concentration of Iraqi and Kurdish troops.

US presidential candidate ­Donald Trump has criticised the gradual build-up and the public statements with which, he ­argues, Washington and Baghdad have telegraphed their intent to recapture Mosul, giving terrorists time to prepare defences or run away. He claims this shows incompetence and ­irresolution, and that a surprise attack with overwhelming air power would have been “smarter”. (With characteristic inconsistency, Trump also claims the ­offensive is being rushed to give President Obama and Democratic candidate Hillary Clinton a boost in time for the coming election — arguing that his rivals are weak and incompetent yet also powerful and organised enough to ­manipulate a major coalition ­offensive for personal ends).

But facts on the ground suggest a rapid attack was always out of the question, given the huge size of Mosul, the deep collapse of Iraqi forces in 2014 (when whole divisions fled, losing a third of Iraq and suffering a string of routs and massacres) and subsequent crisis that shook Iraqi society to its core.

Likewise, as emotionally satisfying as it might be to carpet-bomb Mosul, the civilian casualties this would entail, and the destruction of one of Iraq’s great urban and cultural centres, would be ethically and legally unacceptable. And the Iraqi government, of course, would be unlikely to give its allies permission to flatten one of its own cities.

As a practical matter, too, air power alone — without ground forces to expose enemy units and force them to mass in the open where they can be targeted — is less effective than politicians often seem to think. Indeed, airstrikes in an urban environment can strengthen a defender’s position by creating a jumble of ruins, blocking attack routes with rubble, and cratering roads. Rather, air and ground forces are best used in combination, with aircraft helping overcome obstacles for land forces and ground troops in turn flushing out targets for airstrikes.

In fact, the plan — according to coalition commanders — has been to deliberately signal the ­intent to take Mosul well ahead of time, using public announcements (and a series of choreographed manoeuvres to the north, east and south) to encourage enemy fighters to leave the cluttered urban ­environment for the relatively open ground to the west, where it’s easier to kill them using airstrikes, without risking civilians or levelling the city. This, though, takes time and training.

Training has been a key factor for ground forces: the build-up has allowed on-the-job training, using smaller victories to rebuild Iraqi troops, whose morale was so battered in 2014 that they had to be reconstituted almost from scratch. Coalition advisers, including hundreds of Australians, have been working intensively on this effort since mid-2014.

Coalition advisers are also ­embedded to division level in the Iraqi forces, to brigade or battalion level with some Kurdish formations, and even closer to the frontlines in special operations units. Iranian advisers — including Qasim Soleimani, head of the Quds Force special operations group — have been seen among Shia militias, and in Kurdistan.

US artillery and multi-launch rocket systems, with French artillery, have established firebases to support the offensive, while joint terminal attack controllers — specialists in controlling airstrikes — have been embedding with Iraqi and Kurdish units and training counterparts to spot targets and call for air and artillery support.

All this takes time, underlined by the realisation that there’s only one shot to retake Mosul and yet another failure would be all but ­irrecoverable.

The build-up has also helped buy time for negotiations — brokered, in many cases, by coalition commanders — to forge an intricate set of deals to allow co-operation among Iraqi government forces, Iranian-backed Shia militia, Sunni tribal fighters, Christian and Yazidi forces, and multiple Kurdish factions, all of whom ­despise each other only slightly less than they hate Islamic State.

The plan to encourage Islamic State to leave Mosul has only ­partly succeeded: some leaders, and about a third of the city’s garrison, appear to have left. But there are reports of other fighters moving into the area from Syria, and a substantial force — the size of an army brigade but organised into small, semi-autonomous combat teams — remains to defend Mosul.

Rather than attempting to hold every block, or fight house-to-house, these combat teams are running a mobile defence, falling back along prearranged corridors through prepared strongpoints, covered by deep ­obstacle belts containing hundreds or even thousands of improvised explosive devices, which in turn are protected by snipers and mortar fire.

There are unconfirmed reports, from civilians who have fled the city, of Islamic State fighters preparing makeshift chemical wea­pons, derived from old Iraqi stockpiles or using industrial chemicals such as chlorine. They’re complemented by mobile kill teams with anti-tank weapons, held in reserve to attack armoured vehicles or headquarters, while drones fly ­reconnaissance over Kurdish and Iraqi forces, spotting targets for mortars and rockets firing from concealed positions ­within the city, or scouting for ­potential counter-attacks.

Besides their use of drones and chemical weapons, the defenders are making clever use of terrain. Mosul is bisected by the roughly north-south flow of the Tigris River. There are five bridges across the Tigris, one of which was destroyed in April by a coalition airstrike to prevent ­Islamic State moving supplies to the front. At least one other bridge has been damaged by airstrikes, and Islamic State fighters appear to have wired each remaining crossing point with explosives, placing a guard on each bridge and preparing to blow them up and fall back across the river as coalition forces approach.

They have also demolished key urban infrastructure including power stations and water supplies, and set fire to oil wells, a chemical plant and a sulphur mine, creating a poisonous smoke haze that has sickened ground troops and civilians and hampered coalition air operations. As assault units close in, Islamic State fighters have used smoke and the cover of darkness to pull out of outlying areas.

But far from fading away, they’ve tended to use temporary withdrawals as setups for aggres­sive counter-attacks, often launching multiple suicide truck bombs at once, working around the flanks and rear of attackers to strike headquarters or reserves. Ground that was cleared is often reinfiltrated by snipers who target ­advancing troops. ­Inside the city, the defenders have wired buildings with massive IEDs and laid deep minefield belts to channel the ­assault into prepared killing areas.

There are also substantial ­Islamic State forces outside Mosul, as shown by determined counter-attacks at Kirkuk and Rutbah over the past two weeks. These were probably designed to distract Iraqi and coalition forces, draw troops away from Mosul, and show that Islamic State remains a force. ­Islamic State combat groups in ­Diyala and Anbar provinces could also become a regeneration base, allowing Islamic State to rebuild ­itself after a defeat in Mosul.

As the advance enters Mosul over the next 10 days, this combination of factors — the north-south barrier of the Tigris (which breaks Mosul into two distinct urban areas), the deliberate destruction of infrastructure, the enemy’s ­mobile defence tactics, political ­rivalries among forces in the ­offensive and the tendency for ­Islamic State to mount aggressive counter-attacks across a wide area — will break the battle into a multitude of fleeting engagements, a “disaggregated battle­space” rather than one single large battle.

There are five distinct lines of advance into the city. The southernmost begins at the town and airfield of Qayyarah, 70km south of Mosul. Iraqi Army troops captured Qayyarah in July and US engineers have since repaired its runway and turned it into a major fire support base, concentrating artillery and multiple launch roc­ket systems in a complex known as Rocket City. Iraqi Army troops, paramilitary police, the elite Counterterrorism Service (CTS) and several irregular groups are advancing into the city from Qayyarah, paralleling the west bank of the Tigris, with their initial objective at the town of Hamman al-Ali, two-thirds of the way to Mosul, and the final goal of Mosul ­airport, a major Islamic State strongpoint.

Qayyarah has also become a collection centre for displaced ­civilians fleeing the battle, with the UN and aid agencies setting up a camp with the Nineveh provincial government. Few civilians — perhaps only 10,000 — have fled Mosul as yet. One reason so few have fled is that Islamic State cadres have carried out brutal massacres, including public beheadings, crucifixions and shootings, to cow the population and stop them leaving. Perhaps worse, Islamic State is also diverting all food and water to its own fighters. Aid agencies worry that life in the city, already horrendous, will become impossible for civilians once the battle reaches the urban area, and are preparing for a huge exodus.

Across the river, a second line of advance follows the eastern bank of the Tigris, attacking the southeast sector of Mosul’s defences, the town of al-Khidir, and the ancient ruins of Nimrod. This ­advance is based on the small town of al-Kuwayr and supported by French artillery from Makhmour and American guns from Rocket City. It is spearheaded by CTS troops and comprises Kurdish Peshmerga, two Iraqi Army divisions with infantry and heavy tanks and a Christian militia who are expected to garrison the ­mainly Christian, now largely ­uninhabited, villages in this area once liberated. With its left flank on the river, this combined force is roughly following the axis of Highway 80, which runs into Mosul from the southeast.

To the east and northeast of Highway 80, towards the Kurdish capital of Erbil, is a largely Kurdish front that covers almost half the city’s perimeter, and includes CTS and Peshmerga advancing from al-Khazar, as well as a major line of advance from the northeastern town of Bashiqa. Peshmerga fighters are in the lead across this line of advance, supported by coalition airstrikes and advisers, with CTS bringing up the rear, ready to ­assume the lead once the battle reaches the main urban area.

Near Bashiqa is also a base that holds several thousand Turkish troops, working with Kurdish forces. So far, the Turks have played little role in the offensive, and the Baghdad government strongly opposes Turkey’s participation.

West of the Turkish base, a fourth line of advance approaches Mosul from the north and northwest. Starting from Mosul Dam, this line roughly follows the Tigris as it flows into the city, and parallels the major roadway of Highway 2. It includes an Iraqi Army division, Kurdish troops, several CTS units and militias, and ­appears to be heading for the ­industrial area of Rashidiyah on Mosul’s northern outskirts.

Finally, out to the west of Mosul is a vast area of ground — stretching from Qayyarah in the south, towards Mount Sinjar and Tal Afar to the west and north — that is relatively open. This is the area into which coalition commanders hoped to encourage Islamic State to flee from downtown Mosul. ­Unlike the other lines of advance, each of which has multiple Iraqi or Peshmerga divisions assigned to it, this sector has far fewer government troops — only two police brigades — but is the main operating area for the Hashd al-Shaabi, the “Popular Mobilisation”, an ­alliance of more than 40 Shia sectarian militias, backed by Iranian advisers and supported by former prime minister Nouri al-Maliki. Popular ­Mobilisation commanders have talked of seizing Tal Afar and supporting the advance of other units into Mosul.

In practice, however, the Popular Mobilisation have been sequestered in their area of operations away from the main lines of attack, and agreements ­negotiated over the summer have sought to keep them out of Sunni-majority Mosul, lest their presence exacerbate sectarian tensions. This points to the next set of challenges that will arise once Mosul is recaptured — issues of demarcation among Sunni, Shia and Kurdish forces, the role of advisers and Iraqi groups in stabilising the city and the question of how to forge a sustainable set of political arrangements to govern and ­rebuild areas recaptured from ­Islamic State.

For now, though, the challenge is military — the incredibly complex and lethal problem of conducting the largest urban battle in decades, in one of the most fractured societies in the Middle East, with a hugely fractious and diverse coalition of competing military and political groups. The longer term political issues, horribly complex though they are, will have to wait until Mosul falls.

David Kilcullen is a former lieutenant-colonel in the Australian Army and was a senior adviser to US General David Petraeus in 2007-08 ,when he helped to design the Iraq war coalition troop surge. He also was a special adviser for counterinsurgency to former US secretary of state Condoleezza Rice. He is the author of Blood Year: Islamic State and the Failures of the War on Terror (Black Inc).