-Caveat Lector-

Dear all,

The intense heat has turned my black jeans white with the salt of my sweat.
The crowds surge and push and crush me as I wind my way through. The
violent sun beats my head, dizzying me. I try to steady myself. I take a
deep breath but smell nothing but dirty socks and sweat. The heat seems to
radiate from the ground up as well as from the sky down. I am soaked with
perspiration.  My eyes are blurred, my vision is skewed. I have the
distinct sense of being at one of the huge outdoor rock concerts I used to
frequent a decade ago, the rowdy summertime punk extravaganzas. I sense the
same razor-sharp twitchiness of young sexually frustrated men. There is the
same excitement as the angry, young headline act comes up to perform. There
is the same lousy public address system and sea of blankets spread out. I
even start thinking that I'm getting too old for this shit. But this is
about as far from a rock concert as you can get. This is a Friday prayer
sermon in the city of Kufa by a young Islamic fundamentalist cleric named
Muqtada al-Sadr.

I've been spending a lot of time speaking with Shiite clerics in the new
Iraq. I tell, you can't avoid it. With Saddam Hussein gone, they're stock
has really risen. Sixty percent of Iraq's population are Shiites. Under
Saddam Hussein they were oppressed, marginalized and brutalized. He came
down particularly hard on Shiites in the south, who rose up against them
following the 1991 Gulf War. Many clerics led that revolt, and like pop
stars in the U.S., Shiite clerics' likenesses are wheatpasted onto walls
around all sections of Baghdad. There are Shiite clerics who run
newspapers. Clerics who run charities. Clerics who run mosques, clinics and
schools. There are very devout clerics who are nevertheless tolerant. There
are very cynical clerics who who feign devotion to gain power. There are
even radical reformist clerics who oppose Islamic traditions and argue for
a strict separation of mosque and state.

Muqtada al-Sadr is definitely not one of them.

During that speech in Kufa, he said a lot of angry things against the
American occupation. He vowed to create his own army, naming it after the
Imam Mahdi, the 9th century Shiite saint who disappeared from the Earth and
whose return will herald a new age.

Later, we land an interview with the intense, brooding young Mullah. He
turns his eyes away from women and never smiles. He's deadly serious and a
little frightening. He wears the black turban of the "seyed," or the
descendant of the prophet. In his dinghy office in a narrow alleyway in
Najaf, he speaks out against America, the west and the U.S.-installed
governing council. He says the governing council has no legitimacy, that
the Iraqi people gave no input whatsoever to its creation. I start nodding
in agreement. It's strange, even though I disagree with his very existence,
even though he scares the hell out of me, even though he would probably
have me murdered or deported if he ever took control of Iraq, I think he's
got a point. The Iraqi governing council has no legitimacy, international
or domestically. It is a complete and utter puppet of America, with no
power whatsoever except, quite pathetically, to make or unmake holidays.

On the other hand, I've met many of the Governing Council members. They're
decent people, smart people, motivated and committed to their country.
Many -- like Muwafak al-Rubayee or Abdel-Aziz Hakim -- aren't even
pro-American, or weren't until they got picked to be on the council. How
can I agree with Sadr and agree with them at the same time? I feel like my
mind is twisting and turning, and I have no idea what to make of Iraq any
more. The longer I'm here it seems the more convuluted my judgment becomes,
the more complicated the prisms through which I view Iraq and the Middle
East.

All of a sudden I see Rym Brahimi, of CNN. She walks into Sadr's office
with her team. She laughs when she sees me, but quickly hushes herself. I
had just spoken to her a few evenings ago by the swimming pool at al Hamra.
Moqtada seems not at all amused. But I'm suddenly more interested in
chatting with my old graduate school classmate Rym than finishing my
interview with this creepy guy. I start thinking of Manhattan and 24-hour
Korean delis and the good life, how I miss my friends, how I miss my folks,
how through the haze of heat and diesel exhaust and the roar of tanks,
nothing here makes any sense to me any more.

What's so interesting about Iraq is the enormous complexity of what has
happened here, what the U.S. invasion meant. I think we're all grappling to
find a vocabulary to describe it. Critics of U.S. foreign policy argue that
it was a belligerent, bullying act by a chauvinistic superpower based on
lies. I think they're absolutely right. Advocates of U.S. foreign policy
argue that it was an act of liberation, freeing an ossified totalitarian
society. I think they're absolutely right, too. I think the problem is that
we're struggling to describe the consequences of a hitherto unknown
phenomenon, not nearly as unjustified as the the U.S. invasion of Southeast
Asia, not nearly as justified as the U.S. invasion of Europe.

Maybe we should call it the occuberation of Iraq.

What is happening here right now --- the incompetence of the U.S. occupying
force -- is almost a separate story. A much easier story. Make no mistake,
the United States is currently bumbling, turning the Iraqi people against
it with its bullheaded moves. Yes, the Americans may be handing out soccer
balls to Eye-raqi children and building water treatment plants. No, they're
not getting haircuts at Iraqi barbershops or interacting with Iraqis in any
meaningful way. The American soldiers hide behind their barbed wire and
concrete barriers and seethe at the Iraqis as they munch on their MREs and
dream of home. None of the non-coms wants to be here, even though the
commissioned officers see it as a great career boosters. The average
soldier has grown increasingly rude and hostile toward the locals. For
example every Iraqi kid knows how to say "Get the fuck away!" in perfect
English. That's just wrong.

Meanwhile I'm getting burned out, too, and I'm sure its affecting my
ability to cover Iraq. I've now been in Iraq for over three stressful
months. In that time I've been embedded with the Army's 4th Infantry
Division in an experience I'll covet for my whole life. I've quit my job
with a news agency to freelance again because I wanted to cover the story
and not claw my way up some lame ladder. I've been on the scene of two
terrorist bombings and numerous shootouts and attacks. I've been mortared.

I've been frisked so many times I feel like a sexual abuse victim.

In addition, I've now not been out of the region for almost a year. I've
spent more time in Iraq over the last year than outside of it. I've started
to become cynical and in need of a change of scener. I go to press
conferences and look around and think what strange animals we are, sitting
around in this room watching as the foolish man speaks his foolish words. I
see the folks from the wires who refuse to speak to each other. I see the
folks from the first-tier papers who keep their distance from the folks
from the second-tier-paper colleagues. Over there's the French television
journalists who always ask stupid questions in bad English. There's the
Japanese journalist who asks the same stupid question at every presser.
Some might appreciate the Zen of such rituals. I don't. I think what would
someone landing from Mars think of this? I feel like I'm far away. It's all
become a little absurd to me. I see the little stories we spin out, I
notice the little distortions and exaggerations we sneak in. A good friend
once said to me, "All public communication is terrorism," and each day I
begin to see his point more.

Sincerely,
Borzou

****************************
Thuraya satphone: +88216 6711 0016
Thuraya satphone: +88216 6774 5053
Karma Hotel Baghdad, room 204
+964 1 778 6993
+964 1 778 5314

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