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Fear and Anger (Part II)
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A recruitment poster for the police. The
sign's message (paraphrased) is: I risked my life today to
build the new Iraq. What have you done today for your country?
(Photo: M. Goldfarb)
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The same sign weeks later. These are big
billboards in the middle of a large intersection. In order
to paint the picture over someone would have to climb a ladder
and take a few minutes to do this. That no one stopped the
vandal is an indication of how low Iraqis hold the American-created
police force. (Photo: M. Goldfarb)
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As an unofficial measure of a society's dynamism, you can't do better
than look at the volume of traffic. And by anyone's standards, Baghdad's
traffic volumes are staggering. The neverending flow of cars and
trucks in this sprawling city of 5 million doesn't even stop for
prayers.
Cars are a major part of the post-war economy. It seems as if
every vacant lot in the city has been turned into a used car bazaar.
In the spring sunshine, a group of middle aged men at Abu Mohammed's
car lot kill time in the traditional Baghdad way: playing backgammon
and drinking chai -- tea. The tiny lot is packed tight with German
cars: not so late model Mercedes and Volkswagens. 6,500 bucks
will get you an air conditioned Merc with150,000 plus miles on
the clock. Abu Mohammed says business could be better. The reason:
poor security. This is a cash business, and people are afraid
to walk around with large amounts of money in their pockets.
Like all the other merchants in this bazaar, Abu Mohammed keeps
an AK 47 in the office, with U.S. military approval, just in case
an Ali Baba or thief decides to come on down and help himself
to a car or to some profits.
Despite the security concerns in Baghdad you can see an economy
is functioning. The great success of the American-led occupation
has been the CPA's small business loan program. It gave the local
economy a kick-start. Along boulevards in the nicer neighborhoods,
shops are filled with new refrigerators, air conditioners, and
the twin necessities of modern Arab life: satellite dishes and
new TVs -- the better to watch al-Jazeera on.
People are paying cash for the goods. The Iraqi banking system
can't begin to handle credit cards and there's no postal service
for card companies to send out the bills.
Mansour is Baghdad's Beverly Hills, the place where the city's
elite live. You could almost believe you were in LA's most famous
neighborhood. Although when you look out the window at shepherds
with their flocks standing on the corner it jolts you out of your
reverie. But like Beverly Hills Mansour has wide palm lined boulevards
filled with expensive SUVs and Mercedes. And, like Beverly Hills,
it is also much cleaner than the rest of the city. This is a tribute
to the workers at Mansour's town hall.
Mansour, is one district of Baghdad that works, indeed never
stopped working, according to the head of the engineering department,
Zahed Tahir.
But now it is becoming more difficult to keep the municipality
functioning. At the start of this year the American led Coalition
Provisional Authority handed over responsibility for running the
city to a Baghdad city council. Its budget was considerably smaller
than the CPA's and Zahed Tahir had to lay people off.
The reason public services in Mansour have been reduced are the
same as in the U.S. low taxes, or in the case of Mansour, no taxes.
There is a tax system, but no one is paying because there is no
effective way of collecting them.
The problems of Mansour are administrative and underline the
technocratic difficulties facing Iraq as Sovereignty Day approaches.
But the people of Mansour, if they can avoid being in the wrong
place at the wrong time, like when a rocket propelled grenade
aimed at American soldiers goes awry and explodes in a traffic
jam, are doing alright in the new Iraq.
On the other side of the Tigris life is not so sweet.
At 10 a.m. in bab al-Muadham Sqaure, dozens of men are standing
around with construction tools. They have been standing out there
since 5 a.m. looking for a day's work.
The men are from Sadr City, built by Saddam in the '70s, now
home to the Shi'ite working class of Baghdad. For them, regime
change has not brought much benefit. Anger swirls off them like
dust from the poorly repaired buildings round about. They crowd
around an American with a microphone desperate to voice their
rage. Where are the jobs? Where are their human rights?
These casual workers, many former soldiers and teachers, earn
about a dollar a day when they work. It just about provides for
their families, but as Sovereignty Day approaches, the infusion
of money from the U.S. to kick-start the economy has slowed and
work is less frequent. No one knows the actual unemployment rate.
When Baghdad was looted, the confetti falling from the sky was
the records of the entire society. Replacing that database is
not even at the bottom of the list of priorities for the CPA.
One can only assess things like the unemployment rate anecdotally,
and the anecdote you take away from these fellows is they've been
unemployed for so long they are happy to listen to the preachings
of the son of the man for whom their neighborhood is named. Portraits
of the chubby, glowering Cleric Moqtada al Sadr are prominent
in shops and car windows. His anti-American sermons are directed
towards these men.
The men's anger is exacerbated by their fear of the lawless society
in which they live. One man says, "You get out of your house
and you go to work you never sure you go back to your house."
From the day Saddam's statue came down and the looting of Baghdad
began, the lack of security has been the greatest complaint against
the U.S. in the capitol and throughout the country. The failure
to deal effectively with the criminal chaos has cost the U.S.
virtually all the goodwill that existed in the first days after
the overthrow of Saddam.
Security problems for the Bush administration's team at the Coalition
Provisional Authority mean the constant lethal harassment of American
soldiers and civilian contractors on a daily basis. Security problems
for Baghdadis mean fear of pure crime on a daily basis. All are
potential victims, although some have greater potential than others.
By the banks of the Tigris, people in white robes are going through
an ancient ritual. They are Mendaeans, descendants of a Gnostic
sect who revere John the Baptist. Each year at the Vernal equinox
they go to the river to be re-baptized. There are around 100,000
Mendaeans who have survived almost two millennia of history here.
They are Baghdad's goldsmiths and jewelers and prime targets for
one of the city's growth industries: kidnapping.
The Mendaeans are trying to get out of Iraq. And they aren't
the only ones.
Every place in Baghdad is safe up until the moment it isn't.
But if you want to tempt fate you can be part of a crowd in the
vicinity of the entrance to CPA headquarters. Yet every day, a
five-minute walk from the CPA entrance, crowds queue into the
street by the passport office. Their mood hovers between patience
and panic.
Most are just trying to get into neighboring Arab countries,
where they hope to find work. But the Arab countries don't recognize
travel documents issued by the American-led occupation force.
So people are trapped inside Iraq.
Between the occupied and the occupier, watching the situation
with alarm sits the 25-member Iraqi Governing Council. The IGC
was appointed by the U.S. as an advisory council, although, Council
member Mahmoud Othman claims, the American administrators of the
Coalition Provisional Authority don't listen to much advice. "I
think the big mistake made by the Americans was that they didn't
let Iraqis have self determination and rule their country."
Mahmoud Othman, says the security crisis in Iraq can be traced
back to this error made in the first month after Saddam was overthrown.
This was compounded by a critical error of American Ambassador
Paul Bremer. Othman says Bremer's program of de-Baathification
was too wide: "They disbanded the Army of 400,000 people,
creating 400,000 enemies. These people, regular army, they didn't
fight Americans. They didn't fight the war."
This is true. Along the roadsides of Iraq at the end of major
combat operations you could see the proof. Many soldiers simply
took off their uniforms and walked home rather than die for Saddam.
Their boots lined the highways.
The fact that the liberators became the policemen also gave Iraqis
a "negative" view of America, says Othman. It is hard
to underestimate just how negative that view in the street is.
In the holy Shi'ite city of Karbala, two hours south of Baghdad,
gratitude to the United States is almost impossible to find.
No group benefited more from the overthrow of Saddam than Iraq's
majority sect, the Shi'a. In Karbala, the site of two Holy shrines,
Shi'ites are free to worship in their way and grow an economy
based in religious tourism, something forbidden under Saddam.
Along the wide streets leading up to the golden domed shrines
to Abbas and the great Shi'a martyr, Hussein, merchants sell religious
kitsch and tapes of Shi'ites singing of the death of their saint.
On one side of the bazaar are songs about Hussein in Arabic, on
the other songs in Farsi, for tourists from Iran. In March, this
year, for the first time in decades, Shi'ites were allowed to
celebrate the Feast of Ashura. Pilgrims came from all over the
Middle East to celebrate and sing of Hussein's martyrdom. Two
suicide bombers walked into the crowds simultaneously and detonated
themselves. Around 140 people were killed.
That seems to be fact, but three weeks later in the streets leading
to the Golden Shrines a different theory of the crime has taken
hold: America did it. Why would they, you ask people. Because
the U.S. wants to make people fearful for their security so Iraqis
will ask the U.S. to stay.
In Karbala, Sheikh Muslim al-Tai is regarded as the representative
of Grand Ayatollah Ali Sistani, spiritual leader of Iraq's Shi'a,
in the city. Sistani is probably the most powerful Iraqi in Iraq.
That makes Sheikh Muslim al-Tai a very important man in Karbala.
Ask Sheikh Muslim what he tells his people when they say the
U.S. set off the Ashura bombs and he says that he needs proof
from both sides about what happened. But does he really think
the U.S. would bomb such an occasion? He responds, "Time
will tell who is coming to serve and who is coming to ruin."
Who is coming to serve? Who is coming to ruin? A year after overthrowing
the tyrant Saddam and with just weeks before handing over Sovereignty
to the Iraqi people, that is a lukewarm endorsement of the Bush
administration's actions in Iraq.
» Continue reading "Fear
and Anger: Inside Out (Part III)
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