|
|

|

INSIDE THE WAR ZONE
One Day's Work
Here's a glimpse, courtesy of tafuri, of a day in his life as rule of law coordinator in Baghdad.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
7:15 (a.m.) Woke up; walked to the U.S. Embassy at 7:45.
8:00 Responded to e-mail; prepared for meeting with members of the Iraqi Federal Supreme Court to discuss legislation.
9:15 Departed Green Zone in secure convoy for the Ministry of Justice building in Baghdad.
10:00 Held meeting with chief justice of Iraq and two other senior judges to review text of new law governing the Supreme Court.
Noon Finished meeting and left Ministry of Justice for the Green Zone.
1:00 Drafted a discussion agenda for the Rule of Law Working Group meeting.
1:55 Grabbed a sandwich from the Embassy cafˇ and ate at my desk.
2:30 Met with American NGO representative who is visiting Iraq to discuss his meetings with Iraqi justice officials.
3:30 Chaired the Rule of Law Working Group, a biweekly meeting of representatives working on rule of law from the U.S. Embassy, U.S. military, British Embassy, U.N., E.U., and various NGOs.
4:45 Got haircut at Iraqi barbershop in the Embassy, which is right across the hall from my office.
5:00 More e-mailing; met with various Embassy personnel.
7:30 Went to gym.
9:00 Drove to British Embassy to attend birthday party for British lawyer who is a friend (unlike us, the Brits have a pub in their Embassy, which is a good place to hang out).
11:30 Returned to my trailer and finished packing for my trip to assess the legal system in the Kurdish north.
2:00 (a.m.) Went to landing pad in the Green Zone and boarded a Black Hawk helicopter for Kurdish trip.
|
|
|

The Most Dangerous Desk Job
By Ben Hallman
The American Lawyer
June 1, 2007
Each time David Tafuri makes the trip to Iraq's Ministry of Justice, a building a few miles from his office in Baghdad's Green Zone, he must schedule, in advance, a convoy of no less than three vehicles manned by eight or more soldiers, marines, or private security contractors. The journey, including stops at checkpoints, usually takes 30 minutes or more. Once he arrives, security concerns keep him from staying very long. The trip is a hassle, but Tafuri, the rule of law coordinator for Iraq at the U.S. Embassy in Baghdad and a Patton Boggs partner on a one-year leave of absence, doesn't worry too much about his safety. He isn't immune from danger-insurgents have targeted American officials before-but he is supremely well guarded. The Iraqi judges who work at the ministry aren't as fortunate. "For me, what is so inspiring is working with judges who are sacrificing just to do their jobs every day," he says. "When I leave the Green Zone, it's with private security or military protection. But some of the judges have so little in terms of security that they sleep in their office every night."
Tafuri is a 37-year-old international litigator. Before he joined Patton Boggs, he worked for the United Nations in Turkey. He says he was looking for a job that would allow him to serve his country in a conflict zone when he heard through a friend at the U.S. Department of State that Karen Hanrahan, his predecessor as rule of law coordinator, was speaking in Washington, D.C. He was intrigued by the mission and its challenges: Broadly, the State Department is trying to strengthen and integrate Iraqi courts, police, and prisons, and to coordinate efforts with coalition partners and other U.S. agencies-all while under the shroud of an insurgency and horrific sectarian violence. When Hanrahan's departure left an opening, Tafuri applied and was offered the job. (He says politics were not a factor in his hiring and that he did not get the job through a previous relationship.)
When he first told his law partners that the State Department had offered him a job in Baghdad, the reaction split along generational lines. "Younger attorneys thought I was crazy to leave a comfortable job," he says, "but the older partners said, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and you should take it." Tafuri sided with the older partners. Last August, he moved to Baghdad, where he has a tough assignment. The scope of the job is huge. He advises Iraqi lawmakers on how to draft legislation that better defines the role of Iraqi courts, oversees grants to government contractors, monitors the progress of new courts and prisons, and advises on programs designed to train new judges. Security costs bleed the budget ($125 million for 2007; the State Department had asked Congress for $253 million), and progress is often hard to measure. "So much needs to be done," Tafuri says. "I try to concentrate on realistic goals. I'm trying to improve pockets of the justice system."
Given the enormous amount of work, and the short time to do it, Tafuri puts in many late nights at his desk in one of Saddam's former ballrooms (his desk is positioned under a dome with a painting of horses jumping up toward the clouds). "With the frenetic pace here, it is about the only time you will find me sitting at my desk," he says. Lately, he's been working with Madhat Al Mahmood, the chief justice of Iraq's Supreme Court, on legislation that would strengthen the independence of the judiciary.
One particular sticking point has been determining what role will be played by sharia judges, whose interpretation of law is derived from Islamic teachings. The constitution suggests that Islamic law experts should have a say, but it is vague on how that role should be defined. Tafuri is trying to help draft fair legislation that ensures the secular nature of the courts. "It's important that Iraq have institutions that will serve as cross-checks on each other," Tafuri says, explaining why a matter of Iraqi law is of interest to U.S. authorities. But it's a balancing act: "We have to be careful not to import an American legal system. Before the Saddam regime, Iraq had an independent judiciary with well-educated judges. It worked pretty well, better than in other Middle Eastern countries."
The work is complicated. He doesn't speak the language, and Iraq's legal tradition, which has roots in the Egyptian and French systems, is quite different from what he learned in law school at Georgetown University. His commute doesn't help. The chief justice and about 50 other Iraqi judges have housing in the Green Zone. About 100 more live in Baghdad, and 900 in other towns and provinces in Iraq, with varying levels of protection. Tafuri feels particularly invested in a project that will establish a professional, permanent security force to protect these judges. What, exactly, does a Patton Boggs lawyer know about forming a law enforcement agency? "For a lot of what I do I rely on experts," he says. "I rely on U.S. marshals who work here, and budgetary people who design the program. I provide leadership and vision, and liaison with the judiciary to understand what their needs are. I allow people with greater expertise than mine to do the heavy lifting." It is slow going, but vital work, he says. "A stronger judiciary is a bulwark against totalitarianism."
Tafuri is set to return to Patton Boggs, probably in the fall. He has stayed in touch with his law partners, occasionally offering input or guidance. His time in Iraq has made him a better lawyer, he says. "Learning how to problem-solve in this environment has been a huge challenge," he says. He thinks the consensus-building critical to working for the U.S. government in Iraq will, in the future, allow him to "bridge cultural gaps" between clients of different countries. But Tafuri says, more than anything, he will leave Iraq inspired by the sacrifice of the judges.
"Regardless of how you feel about whether we should be here," he says, "the most important story is that of the Iraqis, struggling to do their jobs in a most exceptionally dangerous situation."
E-mail Ben Hallman: bhallman@alm.com
|