This time last yearâ
Dahr Jamail
November 28, 2004 - Iâm in need of a haircut, so I ask Abu Talat if he thinks
it would be safe to
get one here, risking the time on the street required to do so.
Smiling, he says, âYes Dahr, it may be possible, but we must make sure we have
confidence in the
barber so you get a haircut, and not a head cut!â
His jokes provide him with great amusementâbut Iâve begun enjoying them myself,
in a sick sort of
way.
He has two cars-and we use the older one for our work. It is horribly beat up
and dirty, but makes
for good cover. This is the car that someone offered him $3,000 for not long
ago because they said
it would make a good bomb.
So now this is referred to as âthe bomb car.â Abu Talat tells me, âCome on,
weâll take the bomb car
and go to this interview Iâve fixed.â
This time last year I arrived in Iraq for the first time. I never thought I
would look back on that
time as one of relative calm compared to Iraq one year later. Where a car bomb
a day is the norm,
heavy fighting occurring in at least five cities a day, the threat of
kidnapping very real and the
infrastructure worse now than a year ago.
Journalists could share cars to work on stories, take taxis, stay in unguarded
hotels, not worry
about being kidnapped and car bombs were rare. Traveling to Ramadi or Fallujah
or the south was
dangerous, but doable. Now even braving the outskirts of Baghdad finds the odds
against me.
Today, while driving down the infamous Haifa street where so much fighting occurs, a deep
âthumpâ
shakes our car. Yet another car bomb in the distance. We are snarled in traffic
as sirens blare
throughout Baghdad. Two pickups full of Iraqi National Guard, half of them
wearing black facemasks
for fear of reprisal attempt to navigate through the jam.
They shoot their guns impotently in the air, as if cars which are bumper to
bumper can clear them a
path. They take to the side walk, shoot their guns some more in frustration,
and lurch forward.
Ambulances wail, Iraqi Police speed by on the wrong side of the road, everyone
honks at noone. This
is Baghdad today.
At the Ministry of Health (MOH) on the 11th floor, Dr. Medhi is running the
operations room. He sits
in front of a whiteboard which lists the major hospitals and governorates of
Iraq. Through the
interview his phone rings constantly and he excuses himself to stand and change
casualty counts
coming in from different hospitals. The count in Al-Anbar province (including
Fallujah) goes from 3
up to 4 dead, with 6 injured. Another call finds the Diyala governorate going
from 3 to 4 dead, and
4 changed 6 injured.
We finish the interview as he takes another call, comments that this is a
typical day and stands to
go back to amend the board of his dead and wounded countrymen.
Back on the street sirens continue to wail as we creep through the traffic. At
one refugee camp for
Fallujans we learn it is closed-because a man named Kais Al-Nazzal who owns an
apartment building in
Baghdad has taken responsibility of the 100 refugee families at the Amiriyah
camp and housed, fed
and clothed them. An act of beauty amidst the tragedy of occupied Iraq.
Most of the aid going to the refugees is coming from Iraqis, rather than NGOâs
or certainly not the
MOH. Back at the MOH Shehab Ahmed Jassim, who is in charge of managing the
refugee crisis, said they
had provided everything the refugees needed. That theyâd sent 20 ambulances to
the general hospital
in Fallujah.
What he neglected to say was that most Fallujans have been unable to reach the
main hospital due to
ongoing fighting and most being too afraid of detainment by soldiers or Iraqi
National Guardsmen to
seek medical help. The ambulances returned to Baghdad.
âDuring the Najaf fighting, things were not like this,â said a doctor I interviewed
later, âThere
were delegations, moveable operating theaters, and plenty of help for them
there which was allowed,
but for Fallujah, they have done next to nothing. Why?â
Every doctor Iâve interviewed concerning the situation in Fallujah has shared
similar sentiments.
Theories abound as to why.
We navigate more traffic and arrive at another refugee camp. The Sheikh in
charge of the camp, Abu
Ahmed, tells us that at noon today several Humvees of soldiers and six trucks
of Iraqi National
Guard raided their camp.
They asked Abu Ahmed if there were any wounded fighters, and he told them no.
They promptly entered
the nearby mosque with guns and boots, then went tent to tentâfinding nothing.
âIs a 70 year-old woman Osama bin Laden,â the sheikh asked, âAre the kids their
terrorists? They
have terrorized our camp, broken our traditions, and scared all of the families
for what? We are
refugees without homes.â
He added, âNow a 6 year-old will grow up hating the Americans. Now a 70
year-old woman is saying,
âGod-damn the Americans!â
Other refugees, like Aziz Abdulla, 27 years old, tell more stories of what they saw
in Fallujah. âI
saw so many civilians killed there, and I saw several tanks roll over the wounded in
the streets.â
Abu Mohammed, 40 years old, told us he saw the military use cluster bombs. A 12
year-old boy told
me, âThe Americans smashed our city, killed thousands of people, destroyed our
mosques and
hospitals. Now they come to our camp. Why?â
âThe tanks rolled over wounded people in the streets,â said 45 year-old Abu
Aziz near his tent,
âThey shot so many wounded people who went to mosques for shelter. Even the graves
were bombed.â
This time last year there were no refugee camps. This time last year I ate
kebobs at the famous
restaurant in Fallujah several times. It was bombed before the siege of the
city even began.
Later this evening I interviewed another doctor, while mortars exploded nearby in a
US base. âI had
so much hope when the Americans came here,â he said while drinking tea, âBut
now I am shocked by the
reality. I know the Americans came here for their own interests, for oil and
their so-called
national security.â
He paused, listened as another mortar exploded in the distance and said, âMany
of us accepted why
they came to Iraq, but there has been no improvement for us with their
occupation, even when we
tried to work with them. In fact, all has gotten worse. This is why so many
people are now fighting
them now.â
This time last year, the thought of 100,000 dead Iraqis and over 1,200 dead US
soldiers seemed
difficult to imagine.
Posted by Dahr_Jamail at November 28, 2004 06:11 AM
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