HUNDREDS of thousands of charred files detailing the smallest particulars about the lives of ordinary Iraqis lie scattered in the bombed-out headquarters of Baghdad’s dreaded secret police, where prisoners were tortured in underground cells and disposed of.

The dusty sheaves of documents, compiled with the kind of attention to detail of the former East Germany’s Stasi, attest to the ruthless determination with which the Mukhabarat monitored the population.

The handwritten notes show that people merited surveillance on the slightest of pretexts. These could range from being “talkative” or “a troublemaker” to having a “disreputable wife” or “bad sisters”.

Of equal concern to the Mukhabarat were those who “refuse to participate in the demonstrations” of the ruling Ba’ath party or “trade with Iran”; those who smuggled, attempted to escape Iraq, or had visited the German or Russian embassies.

A document on Doreid Farhat Jawal, for example, showed he escaped Baghdad to Czechoslovakia in 1979 after being found to be a member of the Communist party. A file on him, dated March 3, 2003, noted there was nothing to record against his family, which had been under continual surveillance in Baghdad. It also listed the names of his sisters, Soudoud, living in London as a student, and Ghada, a housewife in Australia.

As within the former Soviet Union and other communist countries or in France during its occupation by Nazi Germany, friends, neighbours and acquaintances were listed as “providers of information”. Others merely had the designation “secret surveillance” next to their names.

In what appeared to be a desperate attempt to eliminate evidence, paper strips littered the floor next to a shredding machine in one office.

Despite Iraqis’ widespread fear of voicing their thoughts publicly, the Mukhabarat was evidently intent on assessing the people’s mood. A recent file, dated March 13, 2003, and titled Rumours and Public Opinion, recorded popular gossip on the unfolding crisis with America and Britain.

One such rumour in the New Baghdad district was that “the United States will bomb Iran and not Iraq on the eve of March 16-17”. The word on the street in the same district suggested “the Turkish troops plan to totally invade and occupy the northern part of Iraq once the Americans launch their war”.

The grapevine in the Zaafarani neighbourhood held that: “Osama Bin Laden has been arrested by the Americans.” Other hearsay appeared to be wishful thinking, such as: “Britain will slowly withdraw from the attacking coalition because it has struck secret deals with Iraq.”

Each document has been signed by an intelligence officer, appending his rank. A colour photograph of some of the staff who worked in the headquarters, lying in its broken frame on the floor of the director’s office, puts faces to some of these names. Iraqis searching the files for information on their missing relatives and loved ones said those in the picture and their colleagues had spied on them, tortured and harassed them for years on end.

Abed — still reluctant to give his real name for fear “they may come back even with the Americans here” — spoke with terror about his time in the headquarters. One of the fortunate few to be released, he was arrested for mixing with “suspicious people” and imprisoned and tortured for several months. He could not remember exactly how long he was held.

“I lost track of time,” he said. “It was always dark underground where they kept me and I did not know when the day started or ended. I was not allowed out once for fresh air until the day they released me.”

Covering his face, Abed showed me his mangled and melted ear. “They used hair tongs on my ears when they asked me questions.”

Other men came to look for their loved ones, whom they said were being held in underground cells. But these had been flooded before the departing intelligence officers left the compound, leaving the fate of the last prisoners unclear.

The officers had taken elementary precautions to ensure that death did not rob them of their victims before they had finished with them. In one of the officers’ rooms were found capsules of a medication that helps bronchitis sufferers to breathe. “If prisoners are cooped up in cells with no daily fresh air for lengthy periods they could develop asthmatic symptoms and this medication can help them breathe better,” said one Lebanese doctor in Baghdad.

Nearby in the complex was another huge pile of files contained memos from hundreds of thousands of families asking about their loved ones, missing persons and visiting rights.

The documents show that appointments to the most mundane jobs had to be vetted first by the headquarters. Applicants were designated eligible or “suspects”.

One letter by a 43-year-old professor and his wife to Saddam Hussein pleaded for assistance in helping them to undergo fertility treatment.

Even those wishing to move home or their furniture had to make application and be judged whether the action could cause security problems. Without such a bill of health from these headquarters, Iraqis were doomed to surveillance, imprisonment and even execution.

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