Baghdad was shrouded in a sinister orange glow from a scorching dust storm
that had just blown in from the desert and settled over the city. Through
the gritty haze a fire burned at the nearby Doura oil refinery. In the
distance white flashes marked the detonation of mortars from the latest US
offensive against insurgents. Dante’s vision of hell had come alive.
Even in what Iraqis now refer to as the “good days” under Saddam Hussein,
Baghdad was never pretty nor particularly safe. When I first visited the
capital two decades ago the country had already endured seven years of war
with Iran. The odd missile would hit the capital and many young men carried
visible scars of the bitter trench warfare in the south.
Two wars and a decade of sanctions later, the decay is now complete. Coils of
discarded barbed wire line the streets. Gangs of children rifle through
piles of rubbish looking for scraps of food and empty bottles and cans.
Every road is pockmarked by the debris of war, the asphalt churned up by
tank tracks or defaced by bomb blasts. The only signs of commercial life are
the tatty little shops selling kebabs, cold drinks and blocks of ice. There
are permanent queues outside the city’s petrol stations, where motorists can
wait for days to fill up their decrepit cars in one of the world’s most
oil-rich nations.
The noise is also oppressive. There is a loud and constant hum, the chorus of
thousands of generators. They struggle to compensate for the dire shortage
of electricity, but in doing so blast hot air on to the streets already
baking in temperatures of 50C (122F). The smell of raw sewage and
uncollected rubbish is pervasive. People spend as little time outside as
possible because any gatherings risk provoking a suicide bomb attack.
Amid the chaos and anarchy of modern Baghdad there is only one rule: life in
the city gets worse.
Many Baghdadis are prisoners in their own homes, where they spend hours
confined to a house or even a room talking to friends on the unreliable
mobile phone system, dreaming of escape or watching the death and
destruction unfolding on the new Arabic 24-hour news channels. One station
attempted to buck the trend by launching Good Morning Iraq with smiling
presenters who featured programmes on health, cooking and entertainment. The
show provides great escapism, although reality inevitably intrudes. When one
programme was being filmed with the backdrop of the Tigris river, the image
of serenity was rudely interrupted by the appearance of a body floating in
the water. The producers cut back to the studio.
On my previous visit to the city a year and a half ago, millions of Iraqis
turned out for parliamentary elections in a genuine, nationwide expression
of hope. A curfew made sure that car bombers were forced to halt their
relentless campaign for a few days. Children colonised the streets and
impromptu games of football sprang up on three-lane motorways.
Now the promises of democracy seem like a lost dream. The Government remains
weak and divided along sectarian lines. Even simple reforms require months
of haggling between rival factions, whose leaders seem to spend more time
abroad than dealing with the problems at home. The police force is blamed
for kidnappings and sectarian killings.
There is still pride in the Army, but everyone knows it would never stand a
chance against the militias and insurgents without a continued strong
presence of US and British forces.
Even the war crimes trials of former Saddam henchmen are of little interest to
people in Baghdad. When Ali Hassan al-Majid (Chemical Ali) was sentenced to
hang earlier this week, the response from ordinary Baghdadis was a shrug.
They feel feel the death sentenced has already been passed on them.
Despite all these hardships, no one who has ever been to Baghdad can fail to
be impressed by the resilience of the citizens. It is impossible for an
Iraqi just to to say “hi” when greeting a friend. A long ritual takes place
where inquiries are made into the health of each family member. Many
blessings are made to God, before the conversation can continue. Gifts are
often exchanged. Hospitality remains a revered tradition even when people
have little left to give.
In the face of challenges, which few in the West can begin to imagine, men and
women still go to work every day, students turn up for lectures at
universities and pupils go to school. It may be dangerous, and often
unrewarding, but Iraqis are stubborn.
When I asked one man, who owned a photographic shop that had been hit
repeatedly by car bombs on the street outside, why he still bothered to show
up to work, he gave the standard Bagh-dadi response: “What else do you want
me to do? I am just as likely to be killed at home. I am not going to let
these people drive me out.”
Yet even this defiance is now under threat. More than two million Iraqis have
fled the country, hundreds of thousands more are internally displaced, most
often because of the sectarian violence that has swept though the capital
and central Iraq over the past year.
Of the six original local staff of The Times’s Baghdad office, each one
has been forced to flee his house because of the violence. Three Sunnis have
fled their homes because of threats from a Shia militia. Three Shias have
escaped under threat of Sunni militants. We once worked as a close team able
to travel anywhere in Iraq. Now even a 15-minute journey across town is the
subject of a long debate about which side is in control of any particular
neighbourhood and whether it is safer for Sunnis or Shias to travel there.
The terror is gnawing away at the very fabric of Baghdad’s diverse society.
When I invited a former colleague to visit the office, he hesitated and said
that it could be dangerous.
He rang back a few minutes later and asked me not to tell anyone that I had
spoken to him or where he was now living.
One Iraqi Shia friend, who has been a model of courage and resilience,
approached me on this visit and pleaded for help. He is married with two
small children and wants to leave Iraq for good. I asked where he wanted to
go. Jordan and Syria are awash with Iraqi refugees living in difficult
conditions. America and Britain have largely closed their doors to Iraqi
refugees. Sweden and Germany are more welcoming, but getting there would be
difficult and expensive. It would mean a huge cultural change for a
traditional Iraqi family who have never set foot outside their country.
In hushed tones and close to tears, he replied: “I don’t care where I go. You
choose. Australia, Sweden, England. Anywhere but here. The farther away the
better. We are dying.”
The plea shocked me, but I quickly realised it was now a common refrain.
Another acquaintance, a Sunni doctor, said that he too was leaving. His area
in western Baghdad, once a comfortable middle-class suburb with villas and
driveways, was now a death trap. Shias and Sunnis battled it out every
night. If you were in the wrong sect in the wrong area your life was worth
nothing.
As a doctor he witnesses first hand the deadly toll of this violence. On this
day it was 20 Shias beheaded and dumped on a river bank and another 21
killed by a car bomb. On another day the dead will be Sunnis, kidnapped,
tortured and executed by Shia militias, often wearing police uniforms and
driving official cars.
He has already sold his car, his electrical goods, and will now consign his
house to a guard and join his family in Syria, where the prospects of
unemployment and living under another Baathist regime seem pretty
attractive. “My wife told me to sell what I can and leave the house. The
only thing she wants me to bring are our family photo albums. We want to be
able to remember happier times and to forget this hell,” he said. “Once we
leave we will never come back.” The Times is the only British paper
with a full-time Baghdad bureau
So after all Iraqies like to live under Baathist regime ; over 2 millions went to live there leaving the heaven created by America
What stupid ugly politicians democracies gave us ?
Mohamed Ahmed , Isle of Man, UK
Solution is not simple. One should understand the causes for terrorism and acknowledge the past mistakes on intervention of other countries' culture without knowing historical background.
We hate terrorism. Similarly, terrorist are hating us because of
our unwelcome intervention in the past.
Reconsiliation is important even with bad people for a better future for our nest generations.
The powerful nations in the world should have one stand to
find solution for terrorism. It is everywhere in the world even we phrase DEMOCRACY!
After all they are also a kind of human beings.
Jay
Jay Wasala, Brisbane, Australia
I'm geniunly sadden to hear stories from Iraq every day.What I'm learn about the area is that these tribal groups have grown hatred for one another due some supression by Saddam and neighbours with various religious infleuance oppression upon women and children to have no proper education due to them.How are we to solve this?It all comes down to having independance to govern one self as a country and we with technical support by developing thier resources for them instead of taking.They have learn that a few rich groups governing their country is not the way ,they waited to long for us to intervene this caused conflict ,what we see now. The West to give help at arms lenght wiil only be the wat now..If this will happen in Iraq the Nieghbouring country will be in jeopardy and will not allow this to happen.What are we to do next?
fred zoe, Ft.McMurray Alberta,