 The last couple of weeks in Iraq have been all about the US withdrawal, oil, corruption and the future of the country in a brutal, impoverished Middle East. I was leaving and wanted something to remind me of the Iraq which every now and then I have glimpsed in a radiant pink-and-green tiled mosque dome, in Mutanabbi Street's literary tea houses, in the old universities and in the Iraqi pride that this was once a country that valued beauty and learning and maybe, one day, will have time for such things again.
Clearly, what I needed was a carpet. It's true that many of the finest carpets in Iraq come from Iran, but Iraq does have a history of carpet weaving, especially in rural areas. And, Persian or Iraqi, the glowing jewel colours of the carpets is definitely part of the Iraqi visual vocabulary. And so, my Iraqi staff kindly took me to the antiques shops of South Baghdad to check out their wares.
And were they ever glorious. I didn't so much want to buy some of those carpets as marry them. It was as if some magician had spirited the colours out of a peacock's feathers and woven them into the whorls and curlicues of prayer rugs and wall hangings. There was a green one the colour of a slice of agate, and a dove grey one with a silvery geometric pattern. There were silken carpets from Isfahan which would fill a room and napkin-sized ruglets with verses of the Koran worked in wool. They were carpets to conjure with, carpets which deserved to be the subjects of stories about enchantments and genies.
I vowed one day to save up and come back for a whopping, silk number in 1,001 shades of purple, blue and gold, but for this humbler shopping trip, I was very taken by a rug which I was told came from Kurdistan. My next adventure, God willing, will take me to the separatist region in northern Iraq, and it was pleasing to have a carpet which was, I was told, a traditional Kurdish pattern. Its geometric design looked a little like Cubist versions of Paisley swirls and it was in unusually flat, bright shades of yellow, red and blue. It didn't fly me out of Baghdad, but it did come with me on the plane and, until my next trip, will remind me of my adventures in this ancient, modern, troubled and intriguing country.
- Alice Fordham
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
 ...are so American. Tipping into one on a Black Hawk from Baghdad, looking like I'd been microwaved, I stumbled into a world of cavernous dining halls hung with red-white-and-blue streamers, of concrete blast walls painted with logos of baseball teams and every flavour of Baskin Robbins available. It's a shock sometimes to step outside an air-conditioned reinforced tent or hangar and into a baking desert landscape rather than onto an, ahem, "regular sidewalk".
It's not a new observation, and my colleague Martin Fletcher wrote brilliantly about the supply chain required to keep the thousands of troops stationed here in popcorn and Froot Loops. But sometimes in Iraq an unexpected offer of marmalade or somesuch reminds me of the British colonial legacy here, and I wonder if, as the Americans withdraw, they will leave behind a taste for infintely variable ice cream and baseball.
Speaking of baseball, I type now as American soldiers in the Public Affairs Office, pictured above, take a little R and R at the end of a long day with pepperoni pizza and Mario Sluggers baseball game on the Wii. With a star-spangled backdrop, naturally.
- 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.]
In the middle of the night my mobile phone rings. A strange number is calling. I pick up and say, in a sleepy voice: “Hello?” The anonymous caller utters a couple of guttural breaths and hangs up. Very annoying. Prank calls like this are a common hazard for both women and men in Iraq. During the darkest days of sectarian conflict when it was too dangerous to step out on a date with someone you fancy, people used the mobile phone as their only form of contact. The habit has not faded as security improves.
Often groups of men will sit together dialling phone numbers at random until one gets a friendly-sounding female voice on the other end. If she is game, a bit of flirting will ensue and possibly the fixing of a time to meet in person. Similarly, lonely girls have been known to trawl the depths of the mobile phone matrix, punching arbitrary strings of numbers into their handset until a male voice answers and is willing to chat. There are even cases of marriages blossoming from these blind-date style phone encounters. The majority of Iraqis do not participate in cold calling, though most have experienced the irritation of multiple calls at odd times from strangers. One friend of mine only ever picks up her phone if she recognises the caller. “I get about five or six calls a day from numbers that I don’t know. It is very intrusive,” she said. As a woman, another danger is giving out your mobile phone number on a business card in a work capacity to the people you meet. Normally the recipient files the card away with professional neutrality. Unfortunately sometimes (particularly in the case of young men) the person mistakenly sees the giving-of-business-card as an invitation to pester said unsuspecting female with countless lustful phone calls. A couple of years ago, I was on an embed with the US military in a then hotspot area south of Baghdad called Arab Jabour. The US soldiers set up a temporary clinic in a rural village to offer medical help to local families. Among the crowd that gathered was a 19-year-old man and his poorly younger brother.
I chatted to the pair through an interpreter. The little boy wanted a present but I had nothing on me other than a notepad and pen (which I was using) and a wodge of business cards. Without thinking of stalker potential, I handed the toddler a card to chew on. His brother, Marwan, also wanted one so I obliged. The next day the calls started. Me: Hello? Caller: Deeeeborah. Me: Er, he-llo-o? Caller: Deeeeborah. It’s Marwan. Me: Marwan? Caller: Deeeeborah. It’s Marwan. I love you. [I hang up phone fast.] He must have called about five times the first day and then every day afterwards for a couple of weeks, making the same declarations of love. In the end I asked one of my Iraqi colleagues to call Marwan and let him down gently. That didn’t work. The calls kept coming, with greater urgency. My colleague phoned again, this time taking a tougher leave-her-alone-or-else stance. That failed to deter my suitor. In the end I had to block his number. A month or so later, I returned to London for a break. Upon arrival at Heathrow Airport, I turned on my British mobile (which I typically leave off in Iraq). Within seconds, the phone rang. It was a strange number. I answered. Caller: Deeeeborah. It’s Marwan. I love you…
[Picture 1: Me and one of my Iraqi mobile phones; Picture 2: Marwan's younger brother, with a second boy behind him, and a US soldier at the makeshift clinic.]
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.]
From fighting on the frontline to raising money for charity, soldiers from 5th Battalion The Rifles have kept themselves busy during multiple tours in Iraq. Exactly six years ago, Lieutenant Colonel Edward Chamberlain, Commanding Officer of 5 RIFLES, was leading a company of soldiers across the Kuwaiti border into southern Iraq as part of the invasion to topple Saddam Hussein.
Now his servicemen and women are part of the final rotation of British troops deployed in Iraq, where their work is much less hostile. Daily tasks include securing the British base at Basra airport, training elements of the Iraqi security forces and preparing to transport all their kit home -- a big change from battling enemy forces. In their free time, soldiers have managed to collect more than 25,000 pounds for Project 65, which backs a number of long-standing military charities that support soldiers and their families. Among various fund-raising events at the Basra base were a fun run and a ‘Premiership’ football tournament. Twenty teams from the British and Iraqi Armed Forces staged the tournament earlier this month, with each team playing in a strip of a current Premiership squad. The final was between Wigan (Iraqi police) and Sunderland (Royal Air Force). 'Wigan' kicked its way to a 2-0 victory. An auction was held after the match to sell the football kits, raising 4,300 pounds. The Premier League matched the sum to bring the total to 8,600 pounds for Project 65. The 5 RIFLES are due to start returning to Britain in the coming months, hopefully in time for three teams of soldiers to take part in a 65-mile money-raising run organised by Project 65 from Dorset to Normandy, an event due to take place between June 4 to 6. “The aim of the run is two fold: To replicate the Pegasus Bridge operation of D-Day 'man-for-man' and to raise 500,000 pounds for the care and support of wounded armed forces veterans,” according to the web site www.project65.net. If you fancy sponsoring the 5 Rifles on their latest mission you can go to: http://www.justgiving.com/5rifles. In addition to the run, wives will be jumping out of an aeroplane to represent the gliders who took part on June 6th 1944, by doing tandem freefall jumps.
[Picture by Peter Nicholls: Lieutenant Colonel Edward Chamberlain, Commanding Officer, 5th Battalion, The Rifles.]
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.
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" »
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.
More Iraq news and comment is available on Times Online.
Get the RSS feed
Times Online Blogs
Times Online
|