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IRAQ 2011: JET SKIING THE TRIANGLE OF DEATH, LISTENING TO BEE GEE SONGS--AND PONDERING WHAT COMES NEXT
Foreign Policy
http://ricks.foreignpolicy.com/posts/2011/06/21/iraq_2011_jet_skiing_the_triangle_of_death_listeni ng_to_bee_gee_covers_in_baghdad_a
June 21 2011
Posted By Thomas E. Ricks Tuesday, June 21, 2011
On a morning when news comes of more bombings in south-central Iraq,
here is an overview from Lady Emma Sky, who knows as much about
Iraqi politics as a foreigner can. Her comments on Turkey balancing
Iran in Iraq especially interested me, as did the speculation about
whether an overthrow of the jerks running Syria might lead to further
fragmentation in Iraq. And keep in mind that Iran remains mighty
interesting.
The taxi driver to Beirut airport tells me that yom al-qiyama (the
day of judgment) is approaching. There will be a big explosion soon --
a very big explosion. The revolutions sweeping the Arab World are not
good. Islamic parties will come to power everywhere. There will be
no more Christians left in the Middle East. Believe me, believe me,
he insists. In anticipation, he will make the Hajj to Mecca this year,
inshallah. I tell him that I am traveling to Iraq as a tourist. The
look he gives me in the rear view mirror says it all: He thinks I
am crazy.
I am heading back to Iraq nine months after I left my job as Political
Advisor to the Commanding General of U.S. Forces Iraq. Earlier this
year, a Sheikh emailed me from his iPad, "Miss Emma we miss you. You
must come visit us as a guest. You will stay with me. And you will
have no power!" I am excited and nervous. The plane is about a third
full. I am the only foreigner. I look around at my fellow passengers.
I wonder who they are and whether they bear a grudge for something
we might have done.
The flight is one and a half hours long. I read and doze. As we
approach Iraq, I look out of the window. The sky is full of sand and
visibility is poor. But I can make out the Euphrates below. Land of
the two rivers, I am coming back.
I do not have an Iraqi visa. Visas issued in Iraqi Embassies abroad
are not recognized by Baghdad airport. I have a letter from an Iraqi
General in the Ministry of Interior, complete with a signature and
stamp. In the airport, I present my passport and letter, fill out a
form, pay $80, and receive a visa within 15 minutes. I collect my bag.
I am through. I want to reach down and touch the ground, this land
that has soaked up so much blood over the years -- ours and theirs.
I spot the Fixer. We grin at each other as we shake hands. Soon we
are in his car speeding down the airport road -- that we called Route
Irish -- towards the Green Zone. I can't see any Americans. Not on the
roads, not on the checkpoints. Iraq looks normal - for Iraq. What is
new? What has changed? The situation is not good, he tells me. The
government is bad. Too many assassinations. We laugh and chat like
old friends. The Fixer, who used to 'smuggle' me out of the Green
Zone is now "smuggling" me back in. Leave it to me, he says, smiling
and patting his chest with his hand.
Before long, I am sitting with my Iraqi hosts in their home, catching
up with their news. I take a dip in their pool. It is 46 degrees
(Centigrade). The brown of the sand-filled sky is broken by flashes
of grey, white and yellow lightening. Later in the evening, the rolls
of thunder are replaced by the thuds of mortars targeting the U.S.
Embassy.
*
Sitting in the back of the car wearing abaya and hijab, I drive south
towards Karbala with two young Iraqi army guys, who are both from
Baghdad and Shia. In the national elections last year one voted for
Maliki to be Prime Minister, the other voted for Allawi as he wanted a
secular man to lead Iraq. They both agree that life was better under
Saddam, that there was more security before, people could travel
anywhere safely, gas was cheaper, salaries went further, there was no
"Sunni-Shia." They tell me that people are very upset with public
services, especially electricity, but are too scared to demonstrate.
No one likes living under occupation, but people are also worried
that the situation might deteriorate if the Americans leave. They
both stress that Jaish al-Mahdi is not the right way.
We drive for an hour southwards. We pass numerous checkpoints. No
one checks my papers. I am the invisible woman in Islamic dress. It
is late so the roads are not busy. Finally, we turn off the main
road, down a track, through an orchard, and arrive at a house on the
banks of the Euphrates where I meet up with my Iraqi friend, and he
introduces me to his companions, male and female. Tables are arranged
and big trays of food emerge from the house. Fatoush salad. Maqluba --
chicken and rice. We stuff our faces. I sit in a swing chair, chatting
with my friend, who talks about his experiences of working with the
U.S. military. They have big hearts he tells me, but they are naïve.
They don't know how to do contracting. They spent lots of money,
but so much was wasted. They did not know who was good and who was bad.
Many projects were not implemented well. Others were not sustainable.
The Brits last century left us with railways, roads and bridges. What
have the Americans left us? My friend tells me about his companions,
what they do and how he knows them. When I ask them where they are
from, I discover that one woman is a Kurd who was born and bred
in Baghdad, two are Sunnis, and the others are Shia, and all have
relatives of different sects. We are Iraqis, they tell me.
It is midnight. I lie back on the swing chair, wrap myself up in a
blanket and fall asleep on the banks of the river. My peace is rudely
interrupted at 2 a.m. by a massive explosion which shakes the ground.
For a moment, I wonder if we are being attacked. Then I speculate that
perhaps there are still some Americans on a nearby base. I don't move
and quickly fall back to sleep.
I awake at 5 a.m. when the sun rises, and see a fisherman pass in a
small boat. I doze back to sleep until I awake again from the heat of
the sun. The caretaker has also slept outside. He brings me tea. He
tells me he has been guarding me through the night, making sure I am
safe, and keeping the dogs -- which look like wolves -- away from me.
I thank him. He chats about the river. The Americans had bases here.
Our people attacked them. Gangs. The Americans did not know who was
good and who bad. One time, he was up a palm tree picking dates when
Americans shot at him. He giggles as he recounts how he fell out of the
tree. Another time, he approached an U.S. checkpoint and they demanded
he take off his top, then his pants, then his underwear. They made him
walk stark naked. Another time, he thought gangs were breaking into
the plantation so he opened fire. In fact, it was American soldiers
and he wounded one. The Americans arrested him and sent him to Bucca
prison near Basra. The caretaker tells me about his life today. At
home he only has a few hours of electricity a day. The electricity
comes on for one hour and then goes off for four hours.
During the hour that it is on, he makes his room as cold as possible.
It is very difficult for people. They sleep out on the roofs. He
talks about the "time of the British," and the "time of Saddam." He
has already consigned the American period to history.
I climb up on the jet ski and speed up the Euphrates. The dust of
the previous day has cleared and the sky is brilliant blue. I wave to
people on the banks and they wave back. I pass the Iskandriyya power
station which once served as a U.S. base. Further up to the left is
Jurf as-Sakr. The Americans used to called this area the "Triangle of
Death" due to the levels of violence. I remember landing by helicopter
on numerous occasions on visits to the troops, receiving briefings
of insurgents moving down the river. Now it is me on the river, and
the U.S. bases have gone. I jump off the jet ski into the water and
swim back down the river, floating with the current.
Out the back of the house, surrounded by sheep and chickens, the
Caretaker is busy barbequing a fish that the fisherman brought us. My
friend gutted it earlier, washing it in the river and then opening
it up in half to put under the grill. One of the women places the
'masgoof' on a tray, and brings it out to the table on the river bank.
We stand around, eating the fish with our fingers, and dipping freshly
baked bread into the salads. It is delicious.
*
I am invited to an Armenian family for lunch. They live in part
of Baghdad which used to be a Jewish area. Before the founding of
the State of Israel, over 130,000 Jews lived in Iraq. In fact, the
1917 census put the Jewish population of Baghdad at 40 percent. The
Armenian family bought the house in 1954. On the walls are hung
rifles, hand-guns, tapestries. Against a long wall, shelves are
crammed with books. My friend lives here with his wife and son, and
his parents. His mother, an elegant well-dressed woman, tells me of
how the Armenians escaped to Iraq as refugees from the genocide in
Turkey. Many Armenians were taken in by Arab tribes. The Arabs were so
kind and generous to us, bringing up orphans as their own children. We
will always remember how good they were to us. We will never forgive
Turkey. The number of Armenians in Iraq has halved since 2003, and is
now down to around 10,000. She believes this is the end of Christians
in Iraq. She laments that so many are leaving for the United States.
What will they find there? Life may be easier, but here in Iraq is
where we have our families, our history, our culture. She sighs that
everyone had such high hopes after the fall of the regime. No one
expected it to turn out how it has. But even in her most depressed
moments, she never wishes Saddam back. My friend's wife has cooked
a feast of Armenian foods, and I sample every plate. When I leave,
she gives me a doggy bag that will feed the Arab family that I am
staying with for days.
As I drive with my Armenian friend back across town, we hear news of
a complex attack on the provincial council in Diyala which has left
8 killed and over 20 wounded; and of the assassination of an Iraqi
General in Baghdad.
*
I catch up with some Turkish friends and feast on food prepared by
their Turkish cook. They tell me that Iraqis are blaming Turkey for
their water shortage and are demanding that Turkey lets more water
flow into Iraq's rivers. But relations between Turkey and Iraq --
particularly with the Kurdistan region -- are good, largely due to
the vision of the Turkish Ambassador and the investment of the Turkish
private sector. Turkish companies are operating from north to south of
Iraq and have developed a good reputation for getting things done. It
is largely Turkish companies that have beautified the Green Zone,
renovating the Republican Palace, laying down roads and building a
guest house for the Arab Summit that never happened. Today in Iraq,
Turkey is seen as the main competitor to and balancer of Iranian
influence.
*
I take a tour of Baghdad with a senior Iraqi official. He is an
old friend from whom I have learned so much about this country over
the years. We visit old haunts. I can clearly observe the changes
that have taken place in the last nine months. The local economy has
improved. The private sector is certainly taking off. More shops are
open. New cars are on the roads. People are busy going about their
everyday affairs. Many concrete T-walls have gone. Security forces
are less visible.
As we drive along I ask him what are his main concerns. He
responds: the direction of the political process, corruption, and
assassinations. We discuss the different paths Iraq might head along
and indicators of each:
Dictatorship. Will Prime Minister Maliki and the Dawa party be able
to sink their tentacles deep enough to exert control over the organs
of state and the unofficial shadow state -- the old culture of Iraq
re-exerting itself, but with different beneficiaries? Maliki now
serves as the Minister of Defense, Interior, and National Security.
There is no longer a selection committee for promotions within the
military. So those seeking promotion, pensions, and protection cosy up
to political leaders as they have no confidence that the system itself
will recognize their merits or provide for them. Maliki has placed
his people as deputies and advisers through all the ministries. But
power is too diffused in Iraq these days making it hard for anyone
to assume total control. And this goes against the Arab Spring trend
influencing the region.
Oligarchy: Will the political elites maintain the current political
paralysis but create an oligarchy, as in Russia? Iraq's political
elites live in big houses, receive good salaries and pensions, can
afford private generators for their electricity consumption, and are
well guarded. They have their noses in the trough and access to large
contracts. But are the elites competent enough to capture the State?
Will the level of corruption and absence of the rule of law make this
path unlikely.
Haves versus have-nots: Will armed groups fight the State for a
share of the country's oil resources, as in Nigeria? Rumors abound
that militias are raising their heads once more, and the power of
the Sadrists in the south continues to increase through coercion
and intimidation.
Democracy: The Parliament is growing in capacity, with members
drafting laws and debating issues. Meetings of Cabinet and sessions
of Parliament -- albeit edited -- are shown on TV. The media is
flourishing, although there are attempts to control journalists. But
the sectarian construct of the political system and corruption hinder
the movement in this path. Perhaps in a decade or so, once the current
political class have been replaced, there will be more hope.
Civil war: Will Iraq plunge once more into sectarian conflict? While
this is always a risk, Iraq's political leaders, institutions and
security forces are stronger than they were in 2005 and all wish to
avoid this direction.
We conclude that Iraq might follow a mixture of these paths. It
seems unlikely that Iraq will avoid the 'resource curse', the paradox
whereby a country with oil wealth has less economic growth and worse
development outcomes than a country with less natural resources.
*
I watch the Iraqi national tennis team practice. They are excellent
players. What impresses me most is how they interact with each other,
offering words of congratulations or commiserations on particular
shots. I speak to them during the interval. They are from different
parts of Baghdad, are of different sects, were inspired by their
fathers to play, and are proud to represent Iraq on the international
stage.
*
I sit with a good friend, a female member of Parliament, in a café in
Baghdad. We reminisce about 2007 and how we worked together closely
to help bring down the violence that ravaged the country. It seems
such a long time ago. We discuss the problems facing the country
today. How much longer will the patience of Iraqis continue, I ask
her? She tells me that the people are tired. They want electricity
and jobs. They want to eat and sleep. They want normal lives. There
is injustice. The country is rich, but the people do not see the
benefits. The Iraqi people have been so oppressed for years that
we are like sheep. Iraq today is so far away from the vision that
people had after the fall of Saddam. I describe to her my trips to
Egypt and Tunisia and how people feel empowered because they removed
their regimes themselves, with little bloodshed, are debating their
constitutions, and new politicians are coming to the fore. She tells me
that in Iraq people do not feel that same sense of empowerment. They
did not remove Saddam themselves, many of the politicians who were
put in power were Islamist exiles returning from abroad, there was
little public debate over the constitution, and elections did not bring
about change but kept the same dysfunctional arrangement in place.
New narratives are being created about life before the fall of
the regime and life under occupation. People have started to claim
there was no 'Sunni-Shia' before 2003. Many blame the Americans for
introducing sectarian/ethnic quotas in the way the Governing Council
was established, and for excluding key segments of the population. But
it was the exiled Iraqi elites who advised them along this path. And
while political parties claim to not want quotas, they all fight
to maintain them. And during elections, Iraqis mostly voted along
sectarian and ethnic lines. And while Iraqis criticize corruption,
they pay the bribes. The gap between the political elites and the Iraqi
people seems to be growing even wider. Safe in the Green Zone, I hear
some elites talk about "Shia power," while others now discuss creating
a Sunni federal region. The elites have not developed consensus on the
nature of the state, nor moved towards building a more just society,
focusing too often on revenge and accumulating power rather than on
national reconciliation. And so the political elites squabble among
themselves over the spoils of the country's wealth. Each group watches
the TV channel that aligns with their bloc.
The government channel portrays the Cabinet discussing progress
in their ministries over the 100-day period, development projects
across the country, beautiful scenery, happy members of the public
out shopping. In sharp contrast, Sharqiyya TV constantly criticizes
the government for lack of progress, highlights electricity shortages
across the country and how many hours a day are received from the
national grid, and shows brutality of the state security forces. While
the politics are so polarized, there will inevitably be levels of
violence aimed at achieving political outcomes, the institutions of
state will remain weak, and economic development will be hampered by
the absence of the rule of law.
*
I luncheon at the home of another female MP who is active in promoting
human rights in Iraq. I ask her what is the way to make politicians
hear the voices of the Iraqi people? She says it is very difficult.
Iraqis still do not have their basic needs. Electricity is the most
important thing for them. It is hard for them to access the internet,
to create networks on facebook, when they have so little access to
electricity. The society needs to become less militarized. Space needs
to be made for the voices of youth and women, and minorities. This is
very hard in Iraq. The Americans did not invest enough in promoting
democracy, she laments. People are too scared to demonstrate --
scared of the government and of the terrorists.
On Friday, people gather in Tahrir Square to demonstrate. I watch
for a bit on TV. I am initially confused as the demonstrations look
nothing like what I have seen elsewhere in the region. Sheikhs are
shown demanding the death penalty for terrorists. I discover that
these are the 'pro-government' supporters bused in from Karbala and
other provinces and security guards from inside the Green Zone who have
been told to go out and demonstrate in support of Maliki. They carry
placards with a red X through a photo of Allawi. The smaller number of
'pro-democracy' supporters are a mixed bunch of youth, communists and
others, inspired by the Arab Spring in Egypt and Tunisia to seek more
freedoms. Government officials accuse them of being Baathists and
terrorists. I later hear from Western journalists on the scene that
some 'pro-democracy' demonstrators were beaten up by plain clothed
men with batons -- while the security forces stood by watching --
and two including a woman were stabbed.
In response to the demonstration, the Iraqiyya leader Allawi delivers a
harsh speech criticizing Maliki and the Dawa party. Allawi is regarded
as the main loser from government formation, unable to capitalize
on his election victory. Earlier in the month, there were rumors
that he would agree to head the National Council on Higher Policies
(although disagreements remain over the title of the post, and whether
it would receive approval of the COR) and that agreement was close
to appointing the security ministers. But discussions have broken off
again, and relations have deteriorated even further. With the two main
blocs of State of Law and Iraqiyya unable to reach agreement and with
their leaders apparently irreconcilable, the Kurds and Sadrists play
the kingmakers.
Into this toxic mix comes the issue of whether the U.S. forces should
remain in Iraq post 2011. The Sadrists are adamant that all U.S.
forces should leave by the end of the year. They continue to attack
U.S. troops so that they can claim that they have driven them out.
They threaten to protest against the government if services do not
improve by August, and to revert back to violence if U.S. forces
remain beyond the end of the year. The rest of the political elites
in private say they wish that some U.S. forces remain to help the air
force protect the air space, the navy to protect the oil platforms,
and to assist with training of the army and provision of intelligence.
However, only the Kurds seem willing to lead the debate in public.
Maliki's Dawa party has put out a statement in which Dawa "reiterated
its firm stands toward the withdrawal of all the U.S. forces from
the Iraqi land, waters, and airspace on the set time, which is the
end of this year." To gain Iranian and Sadrist support for a second
term as Prime Minister, Maliki had to promise them that there would
be no extension of U.S. forces after 2011. Maliki is probably hoping
that the Parliament will vote to approve some US military presence
remaining in Iraq post 2011, so that he will have to go along with
their decision. In this way, he will continue to balance both the
United States and Iran. Events in Syria are also troubling the
elites in Iraq. If the Allawite regime falls and is replaced by a
Sunni one, then Iraq will become even more important to Iran and
its buffer against the Sunni world. This may also serve to push the
trend in Iraq towards Kurdish, Sunni, and Shia regions, all heavily
influenced by different neighboring countries.
*
I go over to the complex we called 'Freedom Towers', where U.S.
soldiers once used to enjoy a few days of respite away from the
battlefield during their long tours. Today, it is the headquarters of
Dr Saleh Mutlak. I say to him: it is amazing to see you here. The last
time I saw you was 18 months ago in the Rashid hotel just before you
fled the country. He laughs as he puffs on his cigarette. He makes me
tell the story to his guests -- all of whom of course know it. One
of the most popular Sunni leaders in the country and joint-head
of Iraqiyya, Mutlak was barred by the de-Baathification committee
from running in the national elections. Through a deal worked in
the government formation negotiations at the end of last year,
Mutlak is now the Deputy Prime Minister of Iraq. The head of the
de-Baathification committee is dead, assassinated last month. How
can anyone predict how things may turn out in Iraq?
*
Sitting in a restaurant in Karada, downtown Baghdad, eating pizza and
drinking wine with journalist friends, I listen to an Iraqi sing Bee
Gee songs. The singer moves me to tears. He sings with such passion,
making the songs his own. I invite him over to join us at our table.
He sits down with us and as he talks the talented, confident Singer,
transforms into a fragile, damaged man. What horrors have those
eyes seen, I wonder? What is the trauma he is struggling with? He
tells us that he went to the United States for a short period in the
seventies when he was a young boy, accompanying his father who had
been wounded fighting on the Syria/Israel border and needed plastic
surgery. In 2003, he had come forward to work with the U.S. military,
but quit after three months when he had been blown up by an IED. I
remember the wonderful Iraqis who had come forward to work with
the Coalition back in 2003, dreaming of building a new democratic
society -- many were killed by insurgents for collaborating with the
Occupying Authorities and many others fled the country. "I dip," the
singer tells me, bringing out his pouch of tobacco. "Disgusting habit
to pick up from American soldiers!" I scold him. He laughs. Things
are slowly getting better in Iraq, he assures me. Iraqis just want
to live. It is going to take a long time -- a very long time.
From: A. Papazian
Foreign Policy
http://ricks.foreignpolicy.com/posts/2011/06/21/iraq_2011_jet_skiing_the_triangle_of_death_listeni ng_to_bee_gee_covers_in_baghdad_a
June 21 2011
Posted By Thomas E. Ricks Tuesday, June 21, 2011
On a morning when news comes of more bombings in south-central Iraq,
here is an overview from Lady Emma Sky, who knows as much about
Iraqi politics as a foreigner can. Her comments on Turkey balancing
Iran in Iraq especially interested me, as did the speculation about
whether an overthrow of the jerks running Syria might lead to further
fragmentation in Iraq. And keep in mind that Iran remains mighty
interesting.
The taxi driver to Beirut airport tells me that yom al-qiyama (the
day of judgment) is approaching. There will be a big explosion soon --
a very big explosion. The revolutions sweeping the Arab World are not
good. Islamic parties will come to power everywhere. There will be
no more Christians left in the Middle East. Believe me, believe me,
he insists. In anticipation, he will make the Hajj to Mecca this year,
inshallah. I tell him that I am traveling to Iraq as a tourist. The
look he gives me in the rear view mirror says it all: He thinks I
am crazy.
I am heading back to Iraq nine months after I left my job as Political
Advisor to the Commanding General of U.S. Forces Iraq. Earlier this
year, a Sheikh emailed me from his iPad, "Miss Emma we miss you. You
must come visit us as a guest. You will stay with me. And you will
have no power!" I am excited and nervous. The plane is about a third
full. I am the only foreigner. I look around at my fellow passengers.
I wonder who they are and whether they bear a grudge for something
we might have done.
The flight is one and a half hours long. I read and doze. As we
approach Iraq, I look out of the window. The sky is full of sand and
visibility is poor. But I can make out the Euphrates below. Land of
the two rivers, I am coming back.
I do not have an Iraqi visa. Visas issued in Iraqi Embassies abroad
are not recognized by Baghdad airport. I have a letter from an Iraqi
General in the Ministry of Interior, complete with a signature and
stamp. In the airport, I present my passport and letter, fill out a
form, pay $80, and receive a visa within 15 minutes. I collect my bag.
I am through. I want to reach down and touch the ground, this land
that has soaked up so much blood over the years -- ours and theirs.
I spot the Fixer. We grin at each other as we shake hands. Soon we
are in his car speeding down the airport road -- that we called Route
Irish -- towards the Green Zone. I can't see any Americans. Not on the
roads, not on the checkpoints. Iraq looks normal - for Iraq. What is
new? What has changed? The situation is not good, he tells me. The
government is bad. Too many assassinations. We laugh and chat like
old friends. The Fixer, who used to 'smuggle' me out of the Green
Zone is now "smuggling" me back in. Leave it to me, he says, smiling
and patting his chest with his hand.
Before long, I am sitting with my Iraqi hosts in their home, catching
up with their news. I take a dip in their pool. It is 46 degrees
(Centigrade). The brown of the sand-filled sky is broken by flashes
of grey, white and yellow lightening. Later in the evening, the rolls
of thunder are replaced by the thuds of mortars targeting the U.S.
Embassy.
*
Sitting in the back of the car wearing abaya and hijab, I drive south
towards Karbala with two young Iraqi army guys, who are both from
Baghdad and Shia. In the national elections last year one voted for
Maliki to be Prime Minister, the other voted for Allawi as he wanted a
secular man to lead Iraq. They both agree that life was better under
Saddam, that there was more security before, people could travel
anywhere safely, gas was cheaper, salaries went further, there was no
"Sunni-Shia." They tell me that people are very upset with public
services, especially electricity, but are too scared to demonstrate.
No one likes living under occupation, but people are also worried
that the situation might deteriorate if the Americans leave. They
both stress that Jaish al-Mahdi is not the right way.
We drive for an hour southwards. We pass numerous checkpoints. No
one checks my papers. I am the invisible woman in Islamic dress. It
is late so the roads are not busy. Finally, we turn off the main
road, down a track, through an orchard, and arrive at a house on the
banks of the Euphrates where I meet up with my Iraqi friend, and he
introduces me to his companions, male and female. Tables are arranged
and big trays of food emerge from the house. Fatoush salad. Maqluba --
chicken and rice. We stuff our faces. I sit in a swing chair, chatting
with my friend, who talks about his experiences of working with the
U.S. military. They have big hearts he tells me, but they are naïve.
They don't know how to do contracting. They spent lots of money,
but so much was wasted. They did not know who was good and who was bad.
Many projects were not implemented well. Others were not sustainable.
The Brits last century left us with railways, roads and bridges. What
have the Americans left us? My friend tells me about his companions,
what they do and how he knows them. When I ask them where they are
from, I discover that one woman is a Kurd who was born and bred
in Baghdad, two are Sunnis, and the others are Shia, and all have
relatives of different sects. We are Iraqis, they tell me.
It is midnight. I lie back on the swing chair, wrap myself up in a
blanket and fall asleep on the banks of the river. My peace is rudely
interrupted at 2 a.m. by a massive explosion which shakes the ground.
For a moment, I wonder if we are being attacked. Then I speculate that
perhaps there are still some Americans on a nearby base. I don't move
and quickly fall back to sleep.
I awake at 5 a.m. when the sun rises, and see a fisherman pass in a
small boat. I doze back to sleep until I awake again from the heat of
the sun. The caretaker has also slept outside. He brings me tea. He
tells me he has been guarding me through the night, making sure I am
safe, and keeping the dogs -- which look like wolves -- away from me.
I thank him. He chats about the river. The Americans had bases here.
Our people attacked them. Gangs. The Americans did not know who was
good and who bad. One time, he was up a palm tree picking dates when
Americans shot at him. He giggles as he recounts how he fell out of the
tree. Another time, he approached an U.S. checkpoint and they demanded
he take off his top, then his pants, then his underwear. They made him
walk stark naked. Another time, he thought gangs were breaking into
the plantation so he opened fire. In fact, it was American soldiers
and he wounded one. The Americans arrested him and sent him to Bucca
prison near Basra. The caretaker tells me about his life today. At
home he only has a few hours of electricity a day. The electricity
comes on for one hour and then goes off for four hours.
During the hour that it is on, he makes his room as cold as possible.
It is very difficult for people. They sleep out on the roofs. He
talks about the "time of the British," and the "time of Saddam." He
has already consigned the American period to history.
I climb up on the jet ski and speed up the Euphrates. The dust of
the previous day has cleared and the sky is brilliant blue. I wave to
people on the banks and they wave back. I pass the Iskandriyya power
station which once served as a U.S. base. Further up to the left is
Jurf as-Sakr. The Americans used to called this area the "Triangle of
Death" due to the levels of violence. I remember landing by helicopter
on numerous occasions on visits to the troops, receiving briefings
of insurgents moving down the river. Now it is me on the river, and
the U.S. bases have gone. I jump off the jet ski into the water and
swim back down the river, floating with the current.
Out the back of the house, surrounded by sheep and chickens, the
Caretaker is busy barbequing a fish that the fisherman brought us. My
friend gutted it earlier, washing it in the river and then opening
it up in half to put under the grill. One of the women places the
'masgoof' on a tray, and brings it out to the table on the river bank.
We stand around, eating the fish with our fingers, and dipping freshly
baked bread into the salads. It is delicious.
*
I am invited to an Armenian family for lunch. They live in part
of Baghdad which used to be a Jewish area. Before the founding of
the State of Israel, over 130,000 Jews lived in Iraq. In fact, the
1917 census put the Jewish population of Baghdad at 40 percent. The
Armenian family bought the house in 1954. On the walls are hung
rifles, hand-guns, tapestries. Against a long wall, shelves are
crammed with books. My friend lives here with his wife and son, and
his parents. His mother, an elegant well-dressed woman, tells me of
how the Armenians escaped to Iraq as refugees from the genocide in
Turkey. Many Armenians were taken in by Arab tribes. The Arabs were so
kind and generous to us, bringing up orphans as their own children. We
will always remember how good they were to us. We will never forgive
Turkey. The number of Armenians in Iraq has halved since 2003, and is
now down to around 10,000. She believes this is the end of Christians
in Iraq. She laments that so many are leaving for the United States.
What will they find there? Life may be easier, but here in Iraq is
where we have our families, our history, our culture. She sighs that
everyone had such high hopes after the fall of the regime. No one
expected it to turn out how it has. But even in her most depressed
moments, she never wishes Saddam back. My friend's wife has cooked
a feast of Armenian foods, and I sample every plate. When I leave,
she gives me a doggy bag that will feed the Arab family that I am
staying with for days.
As I drive with my Armenian friend back across town, we hear news of
a complex attack on the provincial council in Diyala which has left
8 killed and over 20 wounded; and of the assassination of an Iraqi
General in Baghdad.
*
I catch up with some Turkish friends and feast on food prepared by
their Turkish cook. They tell me that Iraqis are blaming Turkey for
their water shortage and are demanding that Turkey lets more water
flow into Iraq's rivers. But relations between Turkey and Iraq --
particularly with the Kurdistan region -- are good, largely due to
the vision of the Turkish Ambassador and the investment of the Turkish
private sector. Turkish companies are operating from north to south of
Iraq and have developed a good reputation for getting things done. It
is largely Turkish companies that have beautified the Green Zone,
renovating the Republican Palace, laying down roads and building a
guest house for the Arab Summit that never happened. Today in Iraq,
Turkey is seen as the main competitor to and balancer of Iranian
influence.
*
I take a tour of Baghdad with a senior Iraqi official. He is an
old friend from whom I have learned so much about this country over
the years. We visit old haunts. I can clearly observe the changes
that have taken place in the last nine months. The local economy has
improved. The private sector is certainly taking off. More shops are
open. New cars are on the roads. People are busy going about their
everyday affairs. Many concrete T-walls have gone. Security forces
are less visible.
As we drive along I ask him what are his main concerns. He
responds: the direction of the political process, corruption, and
assassinations. We discuss the different paths Iraq might head along
and indicators of each:
Dictatorship. Will Prime Minister Maliki and the Dawa party be able
to sink their tentacles deep enough to exert control over the organs
of state and the unofficial shadow state -- the old culture of Iraq
re-exerting itself, but with different beneficiaries? Maliki now
serves as the Minister of Defense, Interior, and National Security.
There is no longer a selection committee for promotions within the
military. So those seeking promotion, pensions, and protection cosy up
to political leaders as they have no confidence that the system itself
will recognize their merits or provide for them. Maliki has placed
his people as deputies and advisers through all the ministries. But
power is too diffused in Iraq these days making it hard for anyone
to assume total control. And this goes against the Arab Spring trend
influencing the region.
Oligarchy: Will the political elites maintain the current political
paralysis but create an oligarchy, as in Russia? Iraq's political
elites live in big houses, receive good salaries and pensions, can
afford private generators for their electricity consumption, and are
well guarded. They have their noses in the trough and access to large
contracts. But are the elites competent enough to capture the State?
Will the level of corruption and absence of the rule of law make this
path unlikely.
Haves versus have-nots: Will armed groups fight the State for a
share of the country's oil resources, as in Nigeria? Rumors abound
that militias are raising their heads once more, and the power of
the Sadrists in the south continues to increase through coercion
and intimidation.
Democracy: The Parliament is growing in capacity, with members
drafting laws and debating issues. Meetings of Cabinet and sessions
of Parliament -- albeit edited -- are shown on TV. The media is
flourishing, although there are attempts to control journalists. But
the sectarian construct of the political system and corruption hinder
the movement in this path. Perhaps in a decade or so, once the current
political class have been replaced, there will be more hope.
Civil war: Will Iraq plunge once more into sectarian conflict? While
this is always a risk, Iraq's political leaders, institutions and
security forces are stronger than they were in 2005 and all wish to
avoid this direction.
We conclude that Iraq might follow a mixture of these paths. It
seems unlikely that Iraq will avoid the 'resource curse', the paradox
whereby a country with oil wealth has less economic growth and worse
development outcomes than a country with less natural resources.
*
I watch the Iraqi national tennis team practice. They are excellent
players. What impresses me most is how they interact with each other,
offering words of congratulations or commiserations on particular
shots. I speak to them during the interval. They are from different
parts of Baghdad, are of different sects, were inspired by their
fathers to play, and are proud to represent Iraq on the international
stage.
*
I sit with a good friend, a female member of Parliament, in a café in
Baghdad. We reminisce about 2007 and how we worked together closely
to help bring down the violence that ravaged the country. It seems
such a long time ago. We discuss the problems facing the country
today. How much longer will the patience of Iraqis continue, I ask
her? She tells me that the people are tired. They want electricity
and jobs. They want to eat and sleep. They want normal lives. There
is injustice. The country is rich, but the people do not see the
benefits. The Iraqi people have been so oppressed for years that
we are like sheep. Iraq today is so far away from the vision that
people had after the fall of Saddam. I describe to her my trips to
Egypt and Tunisia and how people feel empowered because they removed
their regimes themselves, with little bloodshed, are debating their
constitutions, and new politicians are coming to the fore. She tells me
that in Iraq people do not feel that same sense of empowerment. They
did not remove Saddam themselves, many of the politicians who were
put in power were Islamist exiles returning from abroad, there was
little public debate over the constitution, and elections did not bring
about change but kept the same dysfunctional arrangement in place.
New narratives are being created about life before the fall of
the regime and life under occupation. People have started to claim
there was no 'Sunni-Shia' before 2003. Many blame the Americans for
introducing sectarian/ethnic quotas in the way the Governing Council
was established, and for excluding key segments of the population. But
it was the exiled Iraqi elites who advised them along this path. And
while political parties claim to not want quotas, they all fight
to maintain them. And during elections, Iraqis mostly voted along
sectarian and ethnic lines. And while Iraqis criticize corruption,
they pay the bribes. The gap between the political elites and the Iraqi
people seems to be growing even wider. Safe in the Green Zone, I hear
some elites talk about "Shia power," while others now discuss creating
a Sunni federal region. The elites have not developed consensus on the
nature of the state, nor moved towards building a more just society,
focusing too often on revenge and accumulating power rather than on
national reconciliation. And so the political elites squabble among
themselves over the spoils of the country's wealth. Each group watches
the TV channel that aligns with their bloc.
The government channel portrays the Cabinet discussing progress
in their ministries over the 100-day period, development projects
across the country, beautiful scenery, happy members of the public
out shopping. In sharp contrast, Sharqiyya TV constantly criticizes
the government for lack of progress, highlights electricity shortages
across the country and how many hours a day are received from the
national grid, and shows brutality of the state security forces. While
the politics are so polarized, there will inevitably be levels of
violence aimed at achieving political outcomes, the institutions of
state will remain weak, and economic development will be hampered by
the absence of the rule of law.
*
I luncheon at the home of another female MP who is active in promoting
human rights in Iraq. I ask her what is the way to make politicians
hear the voices of the Iraqi people? She says it is very difficult.
Iraqis still do not have their basic needs. Electricity is the most
important thing for them. It is hard for them to access the internet,
to create networks on facebook, when they have so little access to
electricity. The society needs to become less militarized. Space needs
to be made for the voices of youth and women, and minorities. This is
very hard in Iraq. The Americans did not invest enough in promoting
democracy, she laments. People are too scared to demonstrate --
scared of the government and of the terrorists.
On Friday, people gather in Tahrir Square to demonstrate. I watch
for a bit on TV. I am initially confused as the demonstrations look
nothing like what I have seen elsewhere in the region. Sheikhs are
shown demanding the death penalty for terrorists. I discover that
these are the 'pro-government' supporters bused in from Karbala and
other provinces and security guards from inside the Green Zone who have
been told to go out and demonstrate in support of Maliki. They carry
placards with a red X through a photo of Allawi. The smaller number of
'pro-democracy' supporters are a mixed bunch of youth, communists and
others, inspired by the Arab Spring in Egypt and Tunisia to seek more
freedoms. Government officials accuse them of being Baathists and
terrorists. I later hear from Western journalists on the scene that
some 'pro-democracy' demonstrators were beaten up by plain clothed
men with batons -- while the security forces stood by watching --
and two including a woman were stabbed.
In response to the demonstration, the Iraqiyya leader Allawi delivers a
harsh speech criticizing Maliki and the Dawa party. Allawi is regarded
as the main loser from government formation, unable to capitalize
on his election victory. Earlier in the month, there were rumors
that he would agree to head the National Council on Higher Policies
(although disagreements remain over the title of the post, and whether
it would receive approval of the COR) and that agreement was close
to appointing the security ministers. But discussions have broken off
again, and relations have deteriorated even further. With the two main
blocs of State of Law and Iraqiyya unable to reach agreement and with
their leaders apparently irreconcilable, the Kurds and Sadrists play
the kingmakers.
Into this toxic mix comes the issue of whether the U.S. forces should
remain in Iraq post 2011. The Sadrists are adamant that all U.S.
forces should leave by the end of the year. They continue to attack
U.S. troops so that they can claim that they have driven them out.
They threaten to protest against the government if services do not
improve by August, and to revert back to violence if U.S. forces
remain beyond the end of the year. The rest of the political elites
in private say they wish that some U.S. forces remain to help the air
force protect the air space, the navy to protect the oil platforms,
and to assist with training of the army and provision of intelligence.
However, only the Kurds seem willing to lead the debate in public.
Maliki's Dawa party has put out a statement in which Dawa "reiterated
its firm stands toward the withdrawal of all the U.S. forces from
the Iraqi land, waters, and airspace on the set time, which is the
end of this year." To gain Iranian and Sadrist support for a second
term as Prime Minister, Maliki had to promise them that there would
be no extension of U.S. forces after 2011. Maliki is probably hoping
that the Parliament will vote to approve some US military presence
remaining in Iraq post 2011, so that he will have to go along with
their decision. In this way, he will continue to balance both the
United States and Iran. Events in Syria are also troubling the
elites in Iraq. If the Allawite regime falls and is replaced by a
Sunni one, then Iraq will become even more important to Iran and
its buffer against the Sunni world. This may also serve to push the
trend in Iraq towards Kurdish, Sunni, and Shia regions, all heavily
influenced by different neighboring countries.
*
I go over to the complex we called 'Freedom Towers', where U.S.
soldiers once used to enjoy a few days of respite away from the
battlefield during their long tours. Today, it is the headquarters of
Dr Saleh Mutlak. I say to him: it is amazing to see you here. The last
time I saw you was 18 months ago in the Rashid hotel just before you
fled the country. He laughs as he puffs on his cigarette. He makes me
tell the story to his guests -- all of whom of course know it. One
of the most popular Sunni leaders in the country and joint-head
of Iraqiyya, Mutlak was barred by the de-Baathification committee
from running in the national elections. Through a deal worked in
the government formation negotiations at the end of last year,
Mutlak is now the Deputy Prime Minister of Iraq. The head of the
de-Baathification committee is dead, assassinated last month. How
can anyone predict how things may turn out in Iraq?
*
Sitting in a restaurant in Karada, downtown Baghdad, eating pizza and
drinking wine with journalist friends, I listen to an Iraqi sing Bee
Gee songs. The singer moves me to tears. He sings with such passion,
making the songs his own. I invite him over to join us at our table.
He sits down with us and as he talks the talented, confident Singer,
transforms into a fragile, damaged man. What horrors have those
eyes seen, I wonder? What is the trauma he is struggling with? He
tells us that he went to the United States for a short period in the
seventies when he was a young boy, accompanying his father who had
been wounded fighting on the Syria/Israel border and needed plastic
surgery. In 2003, he had come forward to work with the U.S. military,
but quit after three months when he had been blown up by an IED. I
remember the wonderful Iraqis who had come forward to work with
the Coalition back in 2003, dreaming of building a new democratic
society -- many were killed by insurgents for collaborating with the
Occupying Authorities and many others fled the country. "I dip," the
singer tells me, bringing out his pouch of tobacco. "Disgusting habit
to pick up from American soldiers!" I scold him. He laughs. Things
are slowly getting better in Iraq, he assures me. Iraqis just want
to live. It is going to take a long time -- a very long time.
From: A. Papazian