The rise and fall of a Sons of Iraq warrior

AMMAN, JORDAN — A year ago, Sunni Arab fighter Abu Abed led an improbable revolt against Al Qaeda in Iraq. As he killed its leaders and burned down hide-outs, he became a symbol of a new group called the Sons of Iraq -- the man who dared to stand up to the extremists in Baghdad when it still ranked as a suicidal act.

Today, Abu Abed is chain-smoking cigarettes in Amman, betrayed by his best friend, on the run from a murder investigation in his homeland. He once walked the streets of Baghdad wearing wraparound sunglasses and surrounded by a posse of men in matching fatigues like something out of "Reservoir Dogs," but now he shouts futilely for speeding taxis to halt, a slight figure in jeans and a button-down short-sleeve shirt.

Abu Abed's rise and fall encapsulates the complexities of the U.S.-funded Sons of Iraq program. Although the Shiite-led Iraqi government has regarded the Sons of Iraq as little more than a front for insurgent groups, the Sunni fighters' war helped end the cycle of car bombings and reprisal killings by Shiite militias that had sent Baghdad headlong into civil war. America's new friends also helped bring down the death rate of U.S. forces in Iraq.

The Defense Department's report to Congress last week emphasized the vital nature of the program, saying, "The emergence of the Sons of Iraq to help secure local communities has been one of the most significant developments in the past 18 months in Iraq."

Abu Abed's flight into exile shines a light on a violent power struggle pitting upstart leaders like him against Iraq's entrenched Sunni political elite and its Shiite-dominated government. The frictions could easily shatter the Sons of Iraq -- and open the door to Al Qaeda in Iraq's resurgence.

Perhaps even more significantly, the charges against him belie the notion of an Iraqi government moving toward reconciliation among its Sunni and Shiite populations.

The man who served as Abu Abed's U.S. advisor until January expressed complete confidence in the fighter. "Many times he had the opportunity to do the wrong thing and never did," said Eric Cosper, a retired U.S. Army captain. "I have absolute faith in him."

Medals and memories

In the cramped Amman apartment he shares with his family, Abu Abed opens a folder with pictures of him and American officials -- Army Gen. David H. Petraeus and others. He holds up the medals they awarded him, the letters commending him.