The Circuit (42 page)

One of the biggest outsourced moneyspinners for British CSCs is running military convoys in Iraq. Again, it’s difficult to quantify exactly how many people have died doing this job because CSCs are not required to disclose the information. Nevertheless, it’s well known on The Circuit that running convoys is one of the most dangerous jobs out there. According to one estimate, up to 60 per cent of all convoys in Iraq are attacked.
³⁵

Commercial security personnel don’t enjoy the same level of firepower as military convoy operators. Most crucially, commercial operators can’t call for backup if they’re attacked; the military can. For that reason alone, British CSCs should be barred from accepting all military convoy contracts, British, American or otherwise.

Of all the jobs the military has pushed out to The Circuit none has more wide-reaching ramifications for national security than the outsourcing of security sector reform in places like Iraq and Afghanistan. It’s too easy for CSCs to agree to unrealistic recruiting and training schedules for the sake of keeping a contract. The practice also insulates the government from any negative fallout; if recruits switch sides and turn their weapons on British soldiers the CSC becomes the scapegoat for the government’s poor policies.

I do understand that British troops are stretched thinly and there are not enough warm bodies to oversee security sector reform. There is, however, a solution to this dilemma: the army can offer extra financial incentives to recently retired military instructors to re-enlist for one-year tours focusing exclusively on training tasks. This would keep the entire operation in the hands of the military, ensure quality instruction and probably work out to be much less expensive.

So what jobs can CSCs do in hostile environments if military contracts are off limits? Plenty. Looking after journalists is one task that should never fall to the military (and that includes rescuing journalists who get themselves kidnapped); securing energy sector operations such as oil and gas installations; providing security to international aid agencies and NGOs; looking after business executives. There are many contracts, perhaps not enough to fill the gap left by outsourced military jobs, but enough to keep quality British CSCs in business.

Limiting British CSCs to commercial contracts is the first step towards reforming the industry; the second step involves what I like to call ‘horses for courses’. In the army people are given specialist training to perform specific tasks. As I’ve said, a driver drives, a signaller communicates, an engineer constructs, an infantry man fights and a policeman polices. The same should apply to the commercial world – but it doesn’t.

Take the example of a trained army vehicle mechanic. There’s a role for this person in the commercial security world: keeping armoured vehicles on the road. The mechanic should not, however, be inside the armoured vehicle working as part of a CP team because mechanics are not trained in Close Protection.

As with so many things on The Circuit, it’s impossible to quantify exactly how many security personnel lack the proper training for their assigned tasks (remember the ex-Royal Logistic Corps lads who lost the Greek ambassador on Baghdad’s airport road?). I can, however, share with you anecdotal evidence suggesting that the problem is widespread.

During a training task in 2006, I had the opportunity to hold classes in my spare time to help CP advisers working for one of Britain’s biggest CSCs. One evening I began my lecture by asking a classroom of almost sixty advisers for a show of hands; I wanted to know who among them felt they were doing their current CP task correctly. Not one hand went up.

CP work is among the most lucrative on The Circuit for a reason; it requires a very high level of skill to master. Paying a few thousand pounds to sit an SIA course doesn’t prepare a person adequately for the task. As things stand, there are no externally regulated UK-approved courses that teach CP in hostile environments. If there were, and they were any good, I can tell you one thing: the courses would last more than three weeks.

A good commercial CP team should have the following: at least one ex-Special Forces soldier or ex-Royal Military Police CP, preferably in the role of team leader, backed up by a smattering of ex-infantry.

Who should ensure this mix of skills? The CSCs. They collect a management fee. CSCs should be required by law to perform due diligence including verifiable reference checks on all advisers deployed to hostile environments. For too long now, shoddy outfits have got away with shoving any warm body into specialized jobs.

Some British CSCs have recognized that reform of the industry is inevitable. Rather than place their fate in the hands of an independent body charged with drafting, implementing and enforcing a code of conduct, some British CSCs have clubbed together to push their case for internal regulation. In 2006, the British Association of Private Security Companies or BAPSC was established. It’s stated mission: influence the political process that will shape a regulatory structure for British CSCs operating abroad.

On paper, the BAPSC seems a good idea. According to its charter, its members agree to be governed by the following principals: to build and promote open and transparent relations with UK government departments and relevant international organizations; to promote compliance with UK values and interests and with the laws of countries in which its members operate; to issue guidance on the substance of and the need to comply with international legal statutes; to decline contracts that may conflict with international human rights laws, UK values and interests, or that may involve criminal activity; to not provide security services that may adversely affect the military or political balance in the country where they are delivered; to not provide lethal equipment to clients when there is a possibility of human rights infringement; to ensure that employees avoid any armed exchange whilst operational except in self-defence; to ensure that all appropriate staff are properly trained for each assignment; and to ensure ‘that all reasonable precautions are taken to protect relevant staff in high risk and/or life threatening operations including the provision of protective equipment, adequate weapons and ammunition, medical support and insurance.’
³⁶

The BASPC is pushing for what it calls ‘a matrix’ of controls for British CSCs operating abroad including international codes of conduct, national regulation and industry
self
-regulation based on the association’s charter; ‘. . . the industry understands itself better than the government’ states one of its policy papers.
³⁷
It argues that if a member violates the BASPC charter, the trade body ‘can exercise pressure on its members, impose financial sanctions and suspend or withdraw membership rights’. Meanwhile, BASPC’s idea of national regulation is limited to ‘an ombudsman in a government department’ charged with collecting, investigating and processing complaints against CSCs. The administration of punishment, however, would still fall to the BASPC.

On paper, it really does sound above board and totally efficient. In practice, however, the BASPC failed to police at least one of its members effectively.

Remember that charter provision to ensure ‘that all reasonable precautions are taken to protect relevant staff in high risk and/or life threatening operations including the provision of protective equipment, adequate weapons and ammunition, medical support and insurance’? I quoted that directly from the BAPSC’s own website because I wanted to make sure I got the words exactly right. Why? Because the commercial security company that held the Kabul embassy contract I resigned from in 2006 is a BASPC member; the same CSC which failed to provide its CP team on the ground with weapons or an armoured vehicle for over a year; the same CSC which time and again dispatched CP advisers to Kabul who had no background whatsoever in Close Protection; the same CSC which advised me to allow the client to pursue dangerous activities in order to keep the contract.

Allowing British CSCs to self-regulate is tantamount to allowing Afghan drugs traffickers to police the border with Pakistan. It’s a very bad idea. The only way to ensure British CSCs operating abroad offer professional, reliable and high-quality services is to establish an external regulatory body chaired by an appointed MP with no financial ties whatsoever to the industry.

The external regulatory body should have sweeping powers. Forget slap-on-the-wrist fines and sanctions; if a CSC violates the industry’s codes on conduct, the regulators should have the authority to dissolve the offending firm and ban its senior managers from participating in Britain’s commercial security industry – for life.

I have no doubts that Britain has the talent pool to set the standard for The Circuit worldwide. The question is – does it have the will? I hope some of the stories I’ve recounted in this book will drive home the message that The Circuit cannot continue to operate in the shadows; it’s bad for clients and bad for the security personnel on the ground, many of whom have died and continue to die unnecessarily. Most of all, it’s bad for Britain.

If the worst-case scenario does happen and British CSCs succeed in their bid for self-regulation, I do hope the men and women risking their lives on The Circuit will fight for what they deserve: adequate operational equipment to execute their tasks, the support of their managers back home and, above all, fair pay. Sometimes it takes a very big person to stand up to their employer, especially in an industry oversaturated with warm bodies. But remember, in the commercial world, it’s better to lose your job than lose your life.

Footnotes