Liberians say their country wouldn't be like Somalia

MONROVIA, Liberia -- Liberia is about as far as you can get from Somalia and still be in Africa. But mention peacekeeping, Americans and Mogadishu, the Somali capital, in the same sentence and ordinary Liberians smile ruefully.

Many Liberians say they understand why President Bush is taking so long to decide whether U.S. troops will referee another civil war on the continent

"The 'Black Hawk Down' movie, I saw it," said Eric Dumma, 22, referring to a film about a gunfight in Mogadishu a decade ago that left 18 U.S. soldiers dead. "What the blacks did to the Americans makes you fearful."

But he declared: "It won't happen here. We are tired of war. We are really tired, man."

Dumma stood in all he owned: a Nike T-shirt, a pair of navy pants and open-toed slippers. Militia fighters made off with his other possessions in an orgy of looting last month that followed a rebel offensive, which government forces pushed back from the foot of a road. Liberians call that road the only legitimate local reminder of the notorious last U.S. effort in Africa: Somalia Drive.

"The peacekeepers shouldn't be afraid of us," said Mami Oldpe, a uniformed militiaman at the government checkpoint before Double Bridge. "'Black Hawk Down.' Somalia. We are different from them. Our conflict is different than theirs."

Settled by freed American slaves more than 150 years ago, Liberia is the closest thing to a former U.S. colony in Africa. But because it wasn't one, Liberians' attitudes toward the United States contain none of the hate in the love-hate relationship between many former colonies and their former rulers.

"America is our father," said K.B. Jabateh, 52, standing beside the pavement with Mussa F. Donzo, who asked: "How can you deceive your father?"

'Brotherly feelings'

Somalis also welcomed U.S. troops when President George H.W. Bush sent peacekeepers to halt a famine aggravated by militias looting food aid. The troops saved countless lives, then stayed on in a nation-building exercise that degenerated into urban warfare when the U.S. forces tried to capture a troublesome warlord.

"You know in Liberia we have brotherly feelings for America," said Jeremiah Varmie, owner of Uncle Sam's Tele Link, where most of the long distance calls placed are to the states. "I can't speak for the soldiers, but I don't think your people would be attacked."

The soldiers say the same. Young men carrying weapons -- in some cases since 1989, when warlord Charles Taylor began the rebellion that eventually made him president -- say they want only to put down their guns and go back to school.

"Excuse me, the militia are happy. They want peace," said a government commander who asked to be identified only by his war name, Nasty Plastic. "We are tired now. I've been fighting more than seven years now."