Liberians Not Ready to Give Up on U.S.
War-Ravaged Nation Wants to 'Believe in America' Despite Disappointments
By Emily Wax
Washington Post Foreign Service
Sunday, September 21, 2003; Page A30
BUCHANAN, Liberia -- Rebel fighters still control this once lively city by the sea, more than a month after a peace deal called for them to give up their weapons. A group of red-eyed teenagers recently mounted a rocket launcher on their pickup truck and crouched combat style with their assault weapons aimed to fire. They roared through town.
Amid the chaos, the one spot of calm was a church. And since it was Sunday, the weary citizens were packed inside the First United Methodist Church on Buchanan's main street. In the cool shade of the triangle-shaped building, with hymns bringing people to tears, pastor Fannah Tartieh was praying.
He prayed to God. He prayed for all the congregants who died in Liberia's war. And he prayed, once again, for the United States to send help.
"We still want them to come. Despite all we have suffered, we believe in America, even now," he sang out to a small group of congregants after the service. "We need America. If they come we will hug them. Let them roll in Rambo style and we will say, 'Come in, our brothers. Take care of your Little America. We're not upset.' "
But Tartieh appears unlikely to see his prayers answered. Even as the U.N. Security Council approved 15,000 peacekeepers for Liberia on Friday, a U.S. Defense Department official said the United States would not be part of that force, which will include the several thousand West African peacekeepers who are already in Liberia.
Outsiders might think Liberians would be less than happy, even furious, with the United States. Liberia was created when the Washington-based American Colonization Society sent freed slaves to the coast of Liberia in the 19th century. So early this summer, when shelling and rockets sprayed the capital and hundreds of civilians were killed, many Liberians along with U.N. officials and international editorials called on President Bush to send troops. They criticized his refusal to act quickly.
The United States reluctantly sent in a small force of U.S. Marines. But by Aug. 25, just 11 days after they arrived, the last 150 Marines were sent back to three warships off the coast of Liberia.
At one point, U.S. Marines guarding the U.S. Embassy, which is surrounded by rings of barbed wire, handed out pamphlets with illustrations warning Liberians to keep away from the Marines.
Even some Marines thought the campaign was overdone.
"The government never understood that the only thing that would happen if Liberians came up to us is that we would be kissed to death," said one Marine, who asked not to be named. "The whole thing is hugely heartbreaking. The fact that they still look up to us makes it even sadder. It makes you ache."
Educated Liberians living in the United States point to inconsistencies in U.S. policies, which justify fighting a war to remove a brutal dictator in Iraq and yet ignore another tyrannical ruler in Africa. But there is little criticism in the capital, Monrovia, a city named for James Monroe, the United States' fifth president.
"We are not hurt. We love America," said Joseph Koilor, a 40-year-old cab driver, who roamed Monrovia's shattered streets on a recent rainy afternoon. "It's like a beautiful woman who you are really deeply in love with. They leave you. You say okay. They ask you to come back. You go. Our vision is clouded. We have been in love with America for so long. We can't stand the thought of a breakup."
There is a saying that Liberians get upset only when the price of rice goes up or the U.S. Embassy closes its visa section. The United States is like a fruit with thorns, Liberians say. It may hurt you now and then, but you still love it.
Liberians stood by the United States through the Cold War, allowing the largest spy base in Africa to be operated out of their country. After the attacks on Sept. 11, 2001, Liberian schoolchildren sent letters to the United States and held memorial services in Monrovia.
"It was like it happened to them. When I was a child I was taught that the Russians were monsters," said Michael K. Francis, the Roman Catholic archbishop of Liberia. "The Liberian children today are taught to hate everyone America hates. Even now, this continues."
Standing in a street flooded with water and garbage, Evan Togbah, 24, said he is still loyal to the United States. Sometimes he daydreams that muscular Marines storm into Monrovia and help rebuild the country.
"Just like they are trying to do in Iraq. America is the world's super, super power," Togbah said, as a friend agreed. "The American principle is to see that freedom comes to the world. I know in my heart that includes Liberia. We're America's little brother. They will send more troops soon."
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