Iraqis belt-up in road safety drive

On my first trip to Iraq four years ago my driver told me off for trying to put on a seatbelt when I sat in the car because such a move – aside from the blonde hair and blue eyes – would clearly mark me out as a foreigner and a potential target.
“Iraqis don’t wear seatbelts,” he said, though I subsequently wondered whether it would be better to run the risk of attracting unwanted attention rather than endure the daily hazard of racing through the streets of Baghdad without a safety harness.
Over the past fortnight, however, a transformation has taken place. Iraqi drivers are (albeit in many cases reluctantly and/or in bemusement) wearing seatbelts for the first time following a Government order.
Many see the new rule as a bit of a joke given that the authorities have yet to stop the far more serious crimes of car bombings and kidnappings, but others welcome the move as a tiny glimmer of order in their otherwise chaotic lives.
Keen to write a story about seatbelts (http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/iraq/article3761059.ece), I headed off around Baghdad in the back of a taxi to see if people were belting up.
Incredibly, to a greater extent, they were, largely because no one wants to be stung by the 30,000 dinar (13 pound) fine.
My taxi driver, who is still getting used to the sensation of wearing a seatbelt, is pleased that Iraq’s traffic laws are catching up with the rest of the world’s, but he just doesn’t place car accidents very high-up on his list of concerns.
“I don’t have safety in my own house and garden so why should I worry about safety in my car?” Mohammed Farid said.
The 29-year-old knows only too well the perils of living in Iraq. Four years ago he was injured in the leg by a bomb blast when out driving. A couple of months later, criminals stole his car.
Mr Farid also noted that the countless checkpoints, road blocks and blast walls across Baghdad prevent anyone from driving fast enough to hurt themselves if they were to crash. “I only wear this strap to avoid paying a fine,” he said.
The law is imposed to a lesser extent on the roads leading to the capital, with some drivers saying that they belt up only when they approach Baghdad. However in the southern city of Basra and the northern city of Mosul traffic police are also out in force.
Ehssan Jabor, a taxi driver in Basra, is fuming at having to wear a seatbelt.
“I can't drive in this hot weather wearing this stupid rope around my body like I am under arrest,” the 45-year-old said.
“The authorities have to find real solutions to our real problems such as the [lack of] power, jobs and water instead of bothering poor drivers with these silly laws.”
Mohammad Ali, a 33-year-old car dealer, disagrees, saying: “If they want to start by imposing the law on small matters, then that is great. I agree with anything that will help the city become safe again.”
Up in Mosul, opinions are similarly divided.

Marwan al-Mosuli believes that now is not the time to enforce a seatbelt law in a city described by US and Iraqi commanders as a frontline in the fight against al-Qaeda and where car bombs are a daily hazard.
“Most of the cars in Mosul are illegal. Also, criminals use them to make bombs and attack the civilians,” the bus driver, 37, said. “I think they have to make the streets safer before asking us to wear a seatbelt.”

In contrast, Shams Moula, a 40-year-old doctor, said: “This law applies around the world. To have a functioning country … it is important to teach people how to respect the police and to follow the law.”
Traffic policemen are enjoying their new-found relevance after years of simply trying to direct shambolic streams of cars, trucks and buses.
“I am happy today. I feel like I am doing a real job,” said Odai Aqrawi, a traffic policeman in Mosul. “I have the power to change things and not just to stand in the street watching drivers break the law.”
Not everyone is compliant, however. Back in Baghdad, Nazhat Yousif, a 55-year-old housewife, refuses to belt-up when she gets behind the wheel of her car.
“I don’t want to wear a seatbelt because it prevents me from concentrating on driving,” she said. “I’m not a very good driver, especially with the crazy roads we have these days.”
In a country where laws appear to be flouted more often than followed, it is curious to see motorists clipping in their seatbelt and then promptly driving the wrong way down the road. Also, no one pays attention to the few sets of traffic lights in Baghdad, which only work when there is sufficient electricity anyway.
Furthermore, the Government has not issued a driver’s licence since the invasion so anyone who started to drive in the past five years is not legally qualified.
Keen to test the new-found muscle of the traffic police, I asked my taxi driver if he would take off his seatbelt for a bit to see if anyone stopped us.
Mr Farid sportingly steered his clapped-out Nissan up a main road that was teeming with tough-looking officers. I sat, breath bated, to see if they would react.
Alas, the policemen were too busy checking licence plates – another rule that has come into force states that motorists with an odd number at the end of their licence plate must drive on alternate days to those with an even number.
Not beaten, I asked Mr Farid if he would loop around and cruise past again.
This time, we were rumbled straight away.
“Stop, you are not wearing your seatbelt,” one cop shouted triumphantly.
Thankfully, he and his colleagues mellowed once we explained that we were doing a story on seatbelts. They even let us off the fine and waved us on our way (with Mr Farid dutifully strapped in again).
For all the commotion about the seatbelt rule, it has yet to stretch to the hapless, front-seat passenger or those in the back, meaning that I’m still prevented from belting up as I do my best to blend in.

[Picture 1: A driver with his seatbelt on in Baghdad;
Picture 2: A taxi driver wearing his seatbelt;
Picture 3: Another driver with his seatbelt on in Baghdad;
Picture 4: A traffic policeman in the Iraqi capital;
Picture 5: A traffic light on red, but ignored;
Picture 6: A traffic light on green, but also ignored;
Picture 7: A motorbike belonging to a traffic policeman.]