As Obama has speechified and people taken to the streets all over the world, appalled by the crackdown on Iranian protests, I have been puzzled by the absence of green-ribboned street marches here. Why don't Iraqis care about the events in Iran?
It's a tricky one to disentangle. I would have thought the Iraqis had every reason to be interested. Iran and Iraq share a long border and while Iran is overwhelmingly Shia Muslim, Iraq has a decided Shia majority. Hundreds of thousands of Iranian tourists visit Iraq every year, on pilgrimages to the tombs and golden mosques sacred to the Shia.
The Iranian government has its fingers in a lot of Iraqi pies, including allegedly funding groups as diverse as the Dawa political party headed by Iraqi PM Nouri al Maliki, and Shia (and possibly also Sunni) militia groups including the one which kidnapped five Brits two years ago. Weapons and militants are still being smuggled across the Iranian border into the country. There was of course the brutal 1980-88 Iran-Iraq war whose wounds still linger. In love or in hate, few Iraqis are, when questioned, neutral on the issue of Iran and Ahmedinejad's government.
So, why no marches? The WSJ suggested that the Iraqi establishment is just too tied up with the Iranian one to make a squeak of protest, and Bobby Ghosh in Time pointed out some salient facts like the fact that Iraqis have some pretty big problems of their own to contend with.
What I found interesting, speaking to Iraqis, is that the calm does not spring from support for Ahmedinejad and they don't all believe the vote was not rigged. "I think they were truly rigged," said a college teacher. "A million per cent certain!" said a guy in a park.
And, surprisingly enough, the lack of public outrage doesn't spring from total indifference. "We say," said Bassam al Bayati, the gentleman in the park, "that the Iranian people have acted very well.
"The people who are quiet about injustice," he went on, "there is no good in them. {The demonstrators'] stance shows their high mind, their struggle and that they have chosen the right path."
And, said his pal Kamal Al Zubeidi, 35: "yes, I support the people in the streets. We are seeing these clashes between the forces and the people and I think the goal of the people is the better one."
Nor is it the case that Iraqis think the unrest won't change anything. Mr al Hashem, 27, a college teacher, noted that over the last couple of days, Iran has been testing out its air force in the Gulf. "When they receive pressure," he said, "they flex their muscles." He said that although "currently it is all political," should there be an real or perceived US incursion into Iran, "Iran could strike the US by striking US interests in the region, and in particular Iraq."
His friend Mr al Ameri said, "I have the biggest idea. I believe that this is the beginning of the fall of the Iranian regime because of the rule of the extremists, " before speculating that Iran could end up like Iraq, with the US leaving the country, post-intervention, to internal warfare to work out who should be in charge.
Imad Abbas, 45, another teacher, was on the other hand convinced that the election was not fraudulent and that Ahmedinejad's government had the support of the poor people. But he too said that instability in Iran could leave it like Iraq, with porous borders and security problems.
So, if they're interested and they think it could impact on them, why the torpor?
Like all tricky things to understand, it's a combination of things really. First, Iraqis aren't in the habit of being that interested in other countries. Most of them have never been to one. During the Saddam era, the country was brutally isolated not just by sanctions but by the laws against mobile phone and satellite TV. It takes time for outlook to broaden.
There is also the fact that the Iran-Iraq political ties are so strong. "Lots of political parties (in Iraq) are linked to Iran," said Mr al Hashem, "so they try to give a positive view about how the elections went on in Iran." And do people believe them? "The undereducated layer of society is affected by this," he said.
Some people just don't like the Iranians very much. Several cited the absence of Iranian help during the years of sectarian violence in post-invasion Iraq. Saadoon al Ganimi, 36, a civil servant, said that, "There is an Iraqi saying that a man whose hand is in fire is different from one whose hand is in ice. Then, ours was on fire and theirs was on ice. Now, it's the other way round."
But, as the country reels from a fresh round of violence, the main reason they can't get exercised about blood on the streets in Tehran is that they still have so much of their own to worry about. They are not, said Thikrayat, 38, a high school teacher, "very interested in it because we are more interested in Iraqi issues. The security situation in Iraq is our main concern."
Mr al Zubeidi, one of the men in the park said, "people here are suffering with their own problems and are tired. If we go out demonstrating, really we should use it [for an issue that affects Iraq]." His friend Mr al Bayati agreed, and there was something very sad in the how prosaic he was. "Even if we go out demonstrating," he said, "what would we gain? There is nothing in it for us.
"People here are tired and poor."
- Alice Fordham
Meet the Narcycist. He’s an Iraqi slice of the rich and varied world of Arabic hip hop and his new video is quite entertaining if only for its title of PHATWA, which the great man told The Times, “stands for Purposeful Hatred Attacking The Wrong Arabs OR Political Hip-Hop Attracting The World's Attention," addressing the woes of a young Arab going through airport security.
While he was born in the UAE and grew up in Canada, he maintains a strong national identity and is by no means the only Iraqi pop artist operating from overseas – there are artists in Lebanon and Syria, and another rapper in Jordan. The Narcycist says that, “music opened up that hole that was the loss of our motherland I think and filled it with representation; or the ability to represent my people in one way or another.” Western-style pop music is just beginning to filter into Baghdad, but most of the Iraqi pop music is listened to among the diaspora, according to the Narcycist.
Iraq has a long, rich history of art and poetry and it’s nice to know there is an Iraqi take on modern means of expression. “in every Iraqi I know,” says the Narcycist, “the channel of our communications are open through the arts.
“All we really have is each other,” he laments, “our country's leaders never represented and never will.”
- Alice Fordham
This is my last Iraq blog so I am feeling a little sentimental. After two years of manning The Times bureau in Baghdad, I have moved back to London, though I hope to return for the odd stint in the future. More importantly, the blog itself will continue to prosper as my replacement takes over.
Thank you for reading the various entries, which hopefully offered a slice of Iraqi life as well as serving up a few quirky observations and experiences.
As a final entry I would like to list the top five things about living in Baghdad that I will miss the most as well as the top five things I will not pine for at all.
Things I will miss:
1. The Baghdad bureau, with its two great drivers and a top interpreter. These three men became like brothers to me during the time we worked together;
2. Sunset over the Tigris River, stunning even on the bloodiest of days;
3. Iraqi bread (known as “samoon”), possibly the most delicious item of food to have ever passed my lips. I am suffering withdrawal systems already;
4. Eggcup-sized glasses of sugary, Iraqi “chai” (tea);
5. The Baghdad Press Corps, an inspiring group of foreign journalists.
Things I will be glad to leave behind:
1. The threat of violence and kidnap (endured by Iraqis every day);
2. Multiple power cuts (though I was lucky to have electricity);
3. Brushing teeth with bottled water because tap water is dirty (I was also fortunate even to have running water);
4. Numerous body searches to enter the green zone and any official building;
5. The TERRIBLE mobile phone network of crackles and disappearing reception.
[Picture 1: Me and my last samoon;
Picture 2: Me in the departures lounge at Baghdad International Airport.]
It is jokingly dubbed ‘the most expensive B&B in the world’. Then again the trailer camp is the only ‘bed and breakfast’ that also provides lunch, dinner, a gym, 24-hour Internet access and a relatively secure place to stay in Basra.
Situated within the newly-acquired American military base in this southern-Iraqi province, the B&B provides private accommodation for anyone passing through the area who would prefer to avoid staying in Basra city.
For journalists, it offers a kind of halfway house in terms of having ready access to British and US forces on the base and also being free to drive into town for a taste of real-life Basra.
Such convenience comes at a price. It will set you back 135 dollars a night for a single trailer, rising to 150 dollars if you want Internet access. That compares with a free bed if embedded with British or US troops, or a hotel room for about 40 dollars a night in the city, a few miles’ drive away.
Still, the food is fairly good, including a wide choice of cereals for breakfast, along with a full-fry up (though bacon in rare), fruit salad and toast. Meals are all a serve-yourself buffet, with lunch and dinner consisting a variety of hot dishes, as well as salad and (my favourite) make-them-yourself cheese rolls.
The living trailers are small but practical, kitted out with a double bed, a desk and chair, a cupboard, satellite television, fridge and a reading lamp. There is a connecting shower room, which also contains a toilet and sink.
On the downside, outside noise, including military aircraft coming and going, are a bit of a distraction, particularly during the dead of night.
Access to the B&B is slightly tricky unless you have a car with the right badges to pass through the military checkpoint at the entrance of the Basra base. If not, an official escort is required to drive you to the B&B. You also need a military officer, diplomat or private contractor to act as a sponsor during your stay.
Rather than standing for bed and breakfast as I initially assumed, B&B is short for al-Bahar & Bardawil, a Kuwaiti company. It opened the camp in 2003, with enough space for 45 people. Six years on up to 170 people can stay at one time.
Most of the guests are long-termers contracted to provide security services to private companies working in Basra. Aid workers also live at the B&B as well as businessmen and women looking for opportunities in the oil-rich region.
[Pictures by Peter Nicholls.
Picture 1: Me outside one of the B&B trailers;
Picture 2: Inside the trailer-boudoir of Peter Nicholls of The Times;
Picture 3: Sneaky glimpse of Mr Nicholls's toilet and shower.]
Students pouring out of Baghdad University yesterday largely applauded the shoe-throwing antics of Muntazer al-Zaidi and felt he should not spend time in jail. Some, however, said his attack on George Bush was inappropriate because the then US President had been a guest of their Prime Minister.
At the same time, all agreed that Mr Bush should be condemned for the suffering they say he inflicted on the Iraqi people following the invasion of Iraq six years ago to topple Saddam Hussein.
Ahmed Kereem said al-Zaidi’s decision to hurl his shoes at Mr Bush during a press conference in Baghdad last December did not warrant the three-year prison sentence handed out yesterday for assaulting a foreign leader.
"Shoe throwing was the very least thing Mr Bush deserved because he brought destruction to Iraq and severely tore it apart,” the 22-year-old said.
“He killed fathers and children. He was the reason for stealing the wealth of Iraq. He is a war criminal.”
Mr Kereem thinks al-Zaidi, a television journalist, should have been released. "He did not do anything except express his internal desires against this man, which is a small thing compared to what Mr Bush and his soldiers did in Iraq and to the Iraqis."
Nithal Mehsen, 22, also backs al-Zaidi.
"I believe that Iraqis agree with him because Mr Bush deserves nothing but to be treated with shoes,” she said. “This is a great act of bravery by brother Muntazer to hit Mr Bush with his shoes in front of everybody.”
The student said she also supports Iraq’s judiciary and believes that it was simply applying the law. However she wishes the penalty was shorter, “maybe five or six months”.
In contrast, a second female student, Najat Sadiq, disapproves of al-Zaidi’s protest because he chose to target Mr Bush while he was giving a press conference as a guest of the Prime Minister.
"He didn't respect the place he was in,” the 21-year-old said.
“This is not correct. On the other hand, I agree with him and I say yes because he expressed very bravely his opinion of the criminal Mr Bush.”
Ms Sadiq feels that al-Zaidi should serve his sentence because he committed a mistake. “Not all issues can be solved with anger and recklessness. For example, it was possible to express your opinion in another way. Like writing about Mr Bush and exposing his crimes in front of the whole world,” she said.
However, the student added: “Who will prosecute Mr Bush and his soldiers for what they did to the Iraqis? Who will answer this question for me?"
A poll by broadcasters the BBC, ABC and NHK released yesterday found that 62 percent of Iraqis surveyed considered al-Zaidi a hero for hurling his shoes at the former American President. Only 24 percent considered him a criminal.
Dhirgham Al-Zaidi, one of the 30-year-old journalist’s brothers, said his family is still recovering from the shock of learning of the sentence.
“This is not just about an innocent person going to jail; it is a ruling against the will of the Iraqi people,” he said.
The brother accused the Baghdad court that passed the judgement of being on the side of the US occupation.
“They claim to spread democracy but now they punish the person who represented the opinion of the Iraqi people,” the brother said. The trial “was a ridiculous play and not a court.”
As for George Bush, he regards the punishment as a “matter for the Iraqi judicial system”, a spokesman said.
Picture 1: Shoes are used as a sign of insult. In this demonstration against the US-led occupation last year Iraqi protesters hurl footwear at an effigy of George Bush;
Picture 2: Iraqis at the Baghdad zoo;
Picture 3: At the same demonstration as Picture 1, the effigy is burnt.
Iraq commentators go misty-eyed when they talk of the symbolic purple finger brandished by Iraqis after casting a ballot. But no one ever mentions the smelly orange nail.
Had such an abominable side-effect been better public knowledge, then I would never have enthusiastically jammed by right index finger into a pot of indelible ink at a polling station in Baghdad on election day.
It seemed like a good idea at the time. 
The polling station, a primary school in Adhamiya, was relatively quiet and there were no voters in the room where I was standing, speaking to election officials.
I asked whether it would be all right to put my finger in the pot just for fun.
Each voter dabs purple ink on an index finger after voting to prevent multiple ballot-casting.
A smiling woman in charge said of course, then added: “Be careful you don’t stick your nose in there too as it is so long.”
How cheeky.
Brushing off the slight, I joined in the ritual that 7.5 million Iraqis went through last Saturday, walking away with a dark purple finger.
Five minutes later the ghastly orange nailed by-product started to take effect.
“What the hell is happening to my nail?” I asked my interpreter.
“Oh it turns orange,” he said, casually. “It is because of all the chemicals in the ink.”
Four days and hours of scrubbing later, the purple ink on my finger has almost gone but the Orange Nail from Hell is still there, as colourful as the moment it first appeared. The nail has also started to smell rather foul, as if something nasty is rotting on the end of my finger.
A friend from the United Nations Assistance Mission for Iraq said the stain could be with me for up to three weeks, ruining any manicure plans.
All this made me wonder what Iraqis think about having to endure a purple finger and orange, stinking nail just to cast a ballot.
To my surprise (and shame, for being so vain) women and men were all too proud to be sporting a mark that showed they had taken part in the elections.
Sahar, a 20-year-old student at Baghdad University, said: "As a girl, I should try to look as beautiful as possible, but having to turn a finger purple because of the elections does not annoy me. On the contrary, I am glad because I cast my ballot, which is my duty and the duty of all Iraqis.”
Abu Anwer, a teacher at the university, was similarly proud of his purple digit.
"The day of the elections represents a day of joy and happiness because I took part in voting and choosing a candidate,” he said.
“I am not irritated at all by the colour of my finger. In contrast I feel proud of it."
[Picture 1: Me plunging finger into pot of indelible ink on election day;
Picture 2: My finger and orange nail four days later;
Picture 3: Tiba Majid, 25, and her husband Wathak Abdul Rahim, 40, after casting their ballots;
Picture 4: A voter dabs his finger in a pot of indelible ink.]
A text message conveniently alerts Iraqis each month to their mobile phone bill.
As a non-Arabic speaker using an Iraqi phone, I too receive this message but am unable to understand anything other than the all-important amount, which is in numbers rather than Arabic script.
Over the past fortnight, however, I have grown increasingly anxious that the Times bureau, which owns several mobiles, is mysteriously clocking up a steep bill for January.
Several times a day, text messages in Arabic beeped up on my mobile containing a variety of numbers that I assumed to be sums of money owed.
It was only yesterday when one of these texts landed on my phone at the same time as a friend sitting next to me that I realised what was going on. I was being inundated, like everyone else in Baghdad, by mass text messages from hopeful candidates pitching for votes ahead of provincial elections tomorrow.
A confusing array of more than 14,400 candidates from 407 different parties, independent entities and individuals are vying for just 440 seats on 14 provincial councils across the country.
In a bid to make sense of the huge choice, the candidates are on lists – either independent or for a party. The list has a number, which is what I stupidly mistook to be the varying price of my monthly phone bill.
One voter-wooing text (received multiple times) read like this:
“Vote for 302, the list of Prime Minister Maliki who achieved security and restored national sovereignty.”
Another one went:
“With your vote we will hold them accountable and build our country. Elect from the list of Mithal Allusi, 292.”
A third message (I could go on forever) read:
“Vote for a Baghdad with everyone living with freedom and security. Tawafuq 265.”
 The sheer volume of the text messages offers a hint at the cash behind some of these election campaigns. The main parties are desperate to win seats because this poll, while only on a regional-level, will offer a clear indication of the political balance of power ahead of a general election due by the end of the year.
It remains to be seen, however, whether pestering people multiple times a day with text messages is the key to winning votes.
Atheer Kamel, for one, believes such campaigning is a waste of money and an intrusion of privacy.
“It is an annoying election method, very annoying,” said the Baghdad taxi driver, who received more than 20 election messages in one night.
“Sometimes I get so annoyed that I have to switch off my phone.”
Each text comes with a line at the bottom saying that this is a paid for advertisement.
“Why don’t these candidates pay their money to the poor, weak or homeless people? There are plenty of them out there,” Mr Kamel said.
“I think such text messaging is a cheap method to fight an election and does not affect my opinion of the candidate I want to pick."
A second Baghdad resident disagrees.
“It is one of the election methods to introduce the candidates and to get to know the lists,” said Abu Saeed, 46, a teacher.
He had been mulling the idea of voting for Tawafuq, the main Sunni Arab coalition of parties. “When I received these messages it increased my desire to vote for Tawafuq,” Abu Saeed said.
[Picture 1: A campaign text message on my mobile phone;
Picture 2: A little girl leans on a blast wall covered in an election poster in Baladruz, northeast of Baghdad;
Picture 3: Campaign posters clutter the side of an intersection in Basra;
Picture 4: Campaign banners span a main road in Basra.]
Many US soldiers in Iraq watched the inauguration of their new President on television, with opinion split over whether Barak Obama will make a better commander-in-chief than George Bush.
Some troopers cheer the change at the top, welcoming the back of a President who led the United States into two wars during his time in the White House.
Others, however, deliberately skipped the historic swearing in of their country’s first African-American leader because they are wary of his military ideas on the way forwards in Iraq. Mr Obama has pledged to withdraw all US forces from the country within 16 months and focus more on Afghanistan.
Sergeant First Class Stacey Aamar was keen to tune into the ceremony provided he had access to a television set and was not on duty at the time.
“It’s good. It’s a change I guess,” said the 35-year-old from Florida on his second tour of Iraq. He has also served in Afghanistan.
“Before it was all white men and now it is one black gentleman,” he said, speaking on Forward Operating Base Warhorse, a sprawling military base in Diyala province, once an al-Qaeda hub, north east of Baghdad.
Asked if he had any message for the new President, Sergeant First Class Aamar said: “No. He’s the commander-in-chief so he should have a message for us.”
Glen Shockley, a 29-year-old solder from Alaska, is also looking forwards to a new family in the White House.
“I am welcome to change. We will see what it brings though,” he said, while waiting for a pizza at a recreation area on the base.
He, like many soldiers in Iraq, wonders whether the new administration will mean their deployment is reduced from the current 12 months. “Of course I’ll be happy to be back home, but I’m not pushing either way,” he said.
Continue reading "US soldiers have mixed emotions on new President" »
Goose bumps speckled my arms, the hair on the back of my neck bristled and tears formed in my eyes as I watched today’s ceremony to mark the handover of the green zone from US to Iraqi control.
Rather than overcome with emotion, however, the lumps, bumps and runny nose were brought on by relentless gusts of icy wind.
Admittedly coming out in a thin shirt with no coat was not the smartest move for a morning spent standing outside in winter, but fellow reporters were also suffering, even those with the foresight to bring a wooly hat, gloves, scarf and warm jacket.
“My hands are too numb to write,” was a common complaint over the chattering of teeth and shivering of limbs.
One interpreter even said he was too cold to interpret. Understandable. I was too frozen to think, let alone take notes, while snapping pictures almost resulted in finger-loss through hypothermia (slight exaggeration, but you get the idea).
The problem is that because Iraq is usually so stiflingly hot it takes a while (for me at least) to adjust to the fact that the winter months have the capacity to become bitingly cold, as experienced during today’s sovereignty proceedings.
Here are a few pictures of cold members of the foreign press pack.
Amit Paley, Washington Post, followed by Campbell Robertson, New York Times.
Kimi Yoshino, Los Angeles Times, followed by Leila Fadel, McClatchy Newspapers.
Lourdes Garcia-Navarro, National Public Radio, followed by Tim Cocks, Thomson Reuters.
British soldiers in Basra are experiencing a very different deployment to past tours, with time spent protecting the airport base just outside the city or conducting reconstruction missions rather than dodging rockets and bullet fire.
They are also learning to mingle with US soldiers who are gradually moving into the base with a view to taking over once the British military pulls out.
In addition, many British troops hope their trip will be cut short by plans to start withdrawing from March. Some, however, already want to be sent to Afghanistan where there is a greater potential for combat action.
Rifleman Martin Spencer, 22, is on his second tour to Iraq after spending six months at a hotel base in Basra in 2006.
“There was a lot more heat, a lot more indirect fire [rockets and mortars], trouble on the ground, that sort of thing,” he said.
At one point his unit was called out to help after a patrol boat came under attack and a group of Danish soldiers struck a roadside bomb.
“We secured the location and then all hell broke loose, a lot of firing from all sides,” said the soldier, from Cornwall. “There was quite a lot of tracer flying overhead. You could hear the rounds cracking over your head.”
This time around, he and other soldiers from The 5th Battalion The Rifles are living at Britain’s main airport base several miles outside Basra.
Their main task is to conduct operations in the outlying, rural terrain to keep the camp protected, though with militia activity sharply down since the spring there has been no rocket fire on the base in weeks.
“It’s boring really,” said Rifleman Spencer, before correcting himself: “It’s not boring, it’s just different.”
He, like many infantrymen, prefers action. “It’s good to do what you’re trained to do. I want to do Afghanistan. I just want the experience. I want to see what it’s like out there.”
Unlike a number of others, however, Rifleman Spencer is in no rush to leave Basra early. “I would prefer to stay out for the money,” he said, referring to the bonus cash earned when on deployment.
 As for the incoming US soldiers, he said: “You see them cutting around. I have had a chat to a few of them. It’s nice to see different cultures.”
Rifleman David Smith, 22, only finished army training at the end of October. He was expecting a lot more action in Basra, where British troops are also helping to train the Iraqi army, protect the borders and build up the navy.
“It is very quiet out here at the moment,” Rifleman Smith told The Times, sitting in a large tent that is used as a recreation room, with a television, chairs and Christmas decorations on the walls. “I expected more indirect fire but the fact that it is quiet means that everything is going smoothly.”
He too would like to go to Afghanistan next. “I would like to see some action. That’s why I’ve joined up. That is what I’ve trained for. That is what my job is at the end of the day.”
A small contingent of British troops is also based at the Shat al-Arab hotel inside Basra city. The building has been converted into the main operations centre for the Iraqi forces, including police, army and border guards.
Several British troops are embedded with their Iraqi counterparts. The others form a quick reaction force (QRF) to respond if trouble kicks off in the city.
So far, however, they have had little to do because the situation in Basra is relatively peaceful. Instead the soldiers pass the time conducting drills, training and making plans for Christmas.
Continue reading "Quiet times for British troops in Basra" »
Inside Iraq
The Times' contributors in Baghdad bring you slices of life in Iraq as they cover the country's fragile recovery. They blog on the bits in between the car bombs and the corruption, telling stories of life in Iraq for Iraqis and for the correspondents trying to understand it.
The Times' Iraqi staff will also be contributing to this blog.
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