Baghdad Burning: Girl Blog from Iraq

August Through December 2003

Three months after President Bush declared victory on May 2, 2003 and said major hostilities were over, the fighting continues. The press cites terrorist attacks, but gradually, the reporters begin to talk about an insurgency. No one seems quite sure who is in the insurgency, but everyone gets the picture: the Iraqis are uniting to get the Americans out. Casualties begin to climb. US combat and non-combat casualties approach 300 in August. Suicide bombers attack the Jordanian embassy in Baghdad, killing 11. Resisting pressure from the US, which had heretofore ignored them, diplomats at the UN try to avoid awarding Iraq’s new American-appointed government any sort of formal recognition. Instead the United Nations Security Council passes a resolution welcoming the new Iraqi Governing Council. Five days later the UN headquarters in Baghdad is bombed. Twenty-two people are dead, 100 injured. Among the dead is UN Special Envoy Sergio Vieira de Mello, a gifted diplomat, highly regarded on all sides, and widely viewed as the one man who might weld together the complex politics of the war-torn nation. The UN bombing leads to the international organization abandoning its headquarters and leaving the country.

Attacks increase. At the end of August, a car bomb explodes in the holy city of Najaf, killing 95. Among the dead is one of the most important Shia clerics in Iraq, Ayatollah Mohammed Baqir Al-Hakim, who opposed the occupation but saw the possibility of establishing some form of democracy. In a tour of Iraq, Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld seeks to emphasize the positive aspects of post-war occupation, comparing Baghdad to Chicago.

In September, UN Chief Weapons Inspector Hans Blix tells Australian radio he doubts the coalition will find any weapons of mass destruction. On September 25, Dr. Aqila al-Hashimi, one of three women on the Iraqi Governing Council [IGC], dies after being shot several days earlier.

In October, the UN formally recognizes the IGC but also sees the need to pass full control to Iraqis as soon as possible. From the point of view of the US this is a step forward, since recognition of the IGC means institutional status for the man it wants to play the key part in forming a new democratic government. He is Ahmed Chalabi, a former Iraqi banker, who has not been in Iraq since he was 12 and for the last decade has operated in London and the US out of his Iraqi National Congress. He is seen as the most important lobbyist for the invasion, and a man who stands to gain from Saddam’s overthrow. Bush now says he needs more money to assure security and begin reconstruction in Iraq. David Kay, the top US weapons inspector in Iraq, thought to be more amenable to Bush’s insistence on the existence of weapons of mass destruction, presents in an interim report that he cannot find any.

The US meets with resistance to its pleas for financial assistance from the world community. Eighty nations gather in Madrid to put together an aid package for Iraq, but only pledge $15 billion to add to the $19 billion already pledged by the US. These amounts fall far short of the $55 billion goal set by the World Bank, the International Monetary Fund, the Coalition Provisional Authority, and the UN. In bombings that target the International Committee of the Red Cross and several police stations, 35 are killed, 224 wounded. Suicide bombings by now are a regular occurrence.

November turns into the deadliest month of the post-war period to date for US troops as rebels shoot down a US helicopter, killing 16 soldiers and wounding at least 80 others. During this month, 80 US soldiers die. The US Congress passes $87.5 billion for Iraq, and Bush drops in for a photo-op Thanksgiving dinner among troops in Baghdad. Insurgents increase their attacks, killing 4 US soldiers and begin to target members of the US coalition. A bomb explodes at an Italian military police base, killing 14 Italians and 8 Iraqis. By month’s end Bush reverses policy and agrees to turn over power to an interim Iraqi government in early 2004. There is a sense things are getting further and further out of control, and with the election approaching, Bush needs some sort of resolution.

Economic matters worsen. Paul Wolfowitz, deputy secretary of defense, causes a furor in December when he bans France, Germany, Russia, and other countries that did not back the war from bidding on contracts for rebuilding Iraq.

On December 13, the US captures Saddam Hussein, who is hiding near his hometown of Tikrit. The arrest, elaborately portrayed on TV around the world, seems to have little effect. The insurgency continues.

—James Ridgeway

Sunday, August 17, 2003

THE BEGINNING …

So this is the beginning for me, I guess. I never thought I’d start my own weblog … All I could think, every time I wanted to start one was but who will read it? I guess I’ve got nothing to lose … but I’m warning you—expect a lot of complaining and ranting. I looked for a rantlog but this is the best Google came up with.

A little bit about myself: I’m female, Iraqi, and 24. I survived the war. That’s all you need to know. It’s all that matters these days anyway.

Riverbend posted by river @ 7:36 PM

WAKING UP

Waking up anywhere in Iraq these days is a trial. It happens in one of two ways: either slowly, or with a jolt. The slow process works like this: you’re hanging in a place on the edge of consciousness, mentally grabbing at the fading fragments of a dream … something creeps up around, all over you—like a fog. A warm heavy fog. It’s the heat … 120 F on the cooler nights. Your eyes flutter open and they search the dark in dismay—the electricity has gone off. The ceiling fan is slowing down and you are now fully awake. Trying to sleep in the stifling heat is about as productive as trying to wish the ceiling fan into motion with your brain. Impossible.

The other way to wake up is to be jolted into reality with the sound of a gun-shot, explosion, or yelling. You sit up, horrified and panicked, any dream or nightmare shattered to oblivion. What can it be? A burglar? A gang of looters? An attack? A bomb? Or maybe it’s just an American midnight raid? posted by river @ 8:02 PM

Monday, August 18, 2003

ANOTHER DAY …

Normal day today. We were up at early morning, did the usual around the house things, you know—check if the water tank is full, try to determine when the electricity will be off, checked if there was enough cooking gas …

You know what really bugs me about posting on the internet, chat rooms or message boards? The first reaction (usually from Americans) is You’re lying, you’re not Iraqi. Why am I not Iraqi, well because, a. I have internet access (Iraqis have no internet), b. I know how to use the internet (Iraqis don’t know what computers are), and c. Iraqis don’t know how to speak English (I must be a Liberal). All that shouldn’t bother me, but it does. I see the troops in the streets and think, So that’s what they thought of us before they occupied us … that may be what they think of us now. How is it that we’re seen as another Afghanistan?

The best part of the last two days was watching tv yesterday—the latest news from our rotating presidential council: Jordan is trying to get Washington to hand Ahmad Al-Chalabi over to authorities in Amman!! That was great to watch … you know what? He’s my favorite out of the whole interim government hand-picked by Bremer. If Bremer has learned anything about the Iraqi people he’s been attempting to govern these last few months, he would hand Chalabi over to Jordanian authorities with a red ribbon around his neck (as a sign of good will). I haven’t seen anyone who likes the rat (and his buddy Qambar is even worse).

For those who don’t know, the interim governing council chosen by Bremer to represent the Iraqi people couldn’t decide which of the power-hungry freaks should rule Iraq, soooooo … Bremer decided that 3 people would govern (as temporary presidents) until the Americans could set up elections. The three people were Al-Hakim (as a representative of the Supreme Council for the Islamic Revolution), Bahr Al-Uloom (another Shi’ite cleric), and Adnan Al-Pachichi. Naturally, the other members of the governing council objected … why should Iraq only have 3 presidents?! And the number became nine. Each of the nine (including Adnan Al-Pachichi, Ahmad Al-Chalabi, Al-Hakim, and various others) get to rule for a month. You know, Iraq just needs more instability—all we need is a new president each month … anyway, our current Flavor of the Month is Ibraheim Al-Jaffari, who is the head of the infamous Al-Daawa Party (responsible for various bombings in Iraq before and during the Saddam era). I’ll talk more about him later …

The funny thing is that the 9 get to govern Iraq alphabetically (according to the Arabic alphabet). The only reason for this seems to be that Bremer found them all equally ingratiating, dishonest, and incompetent so he was hard-pressed to make a decision. The way it will work is that each one will have their chance at governing Iraq, and at the end of the nine-month period, Bremer will decide which one of them best represents American assets in the region and he will become The Chosen One. They’ll set up some fake elections and The Chosen One will magically be rewarded with … Iraq. I just hope Adnan Al-Pachichi makes it long enough to get his chance on the occupation throne—he looks ready to fall over any minute.

email me: riverbend@popmail.com posted by river @ 9:12 PM

Tuesday, August 19, 2003

TIRED.

How is it possible to wake up tired? It feels like I’ve been struggling in my sleep … struggling with nightmares, struggling with fears … struggling to listen for gunshots or tanks. I’m just so tired today. It’s not the sort of tired where I want to sleep—it’s the sort of tired where I just want to completely shut down … put myself on standby, if you will. I think everyone feels that way lately.

Today a child was killed in Anbar, a governorate northwest of Baghdad. His name was Omar Jassim and he was no more than 10 years old, maybe 11. Does anyone hear of that? Does it matter anymore? Do they show that on Fox News or CNN? He was killed during an American raid—no one knows why. His family is devastated—nothing was taken from the house because nothing was found in the house. It was just one of those raids. People are terrified of the raids. You never know what will happen—who might be shot, who might react wrong—what exactly the wrong reaction might be … Things are getting stolen too—gold, watches, money (dollars) … That’s not to say ALL the troops steal—that’s unfair. It’s like saying all of Iraq was out there looting. But it really is difficult having to worry about looters, murderers, gangs, militias, and now American troops. I know, I know—someone is saying, You ungrateful Iraqis! They are doing this for YOU … the raids are for YOU! But the truth is, the raids only accomplish one thing: they act as a constant reminder that we are under occupation, we are not independent, we are not free, we are not liberated. We are no longer safe in our own homes—everything now belongs to someone else.

I can’t see the future at this point, or maybe I don’t choose to see it. Maybe we’re just blocking it out like a bad memory or premonition. Eventually it will creep up on you, though. We’re living, this moment, the future we were afraid to contemplate 6 months ago. It’s like trying to find your way out of a nightmare. I just wish they would take the oil and go …

email me: riverbend@popmail.com posted by river @ 3:50 PM

UNBELIEVABLE …

The UN building explosion is horrible … terrifying and saddening. No one can believe it has happened … no one understands why it was chosen. For God’s sake these people are supposed to be here to help.

I’m so angry and frustrated. Nothing is moving forward—there is NO progress and this is just an example. The media is claiming Al-Qaeda. God damn, we never HAD Al-Qaeda before this occupation … fundamentalists kept their heads down. Now they are EVERYWHERE—they represent the Iraqi people on Bremer’s puppet council …

You know what? Something like this could never happen to the Ministry of Oil. The Ministry of Oil is being guarded 24/7 by tanks and troops. It has been guarded ever since the fall of Baghdad and will continue under Bremer’s watchful eye until every last drop of oil is gone. Why couldn’t they have put a tank in front of the UN building? Why? Why? Why? We know the Pentagon’s planning has been horrid up until now, but you’d think they would have seen this one coming from a mile away … posted by river @ 9:14 PM

Wednesday, August 20, 2003

DAZED

Sergio de Mello’s death is catastrophic. We are all a little bit dazed. He was, during these last few months, the best thing that seems to have happened to Iraq. In spite of the fact that the UN was futile in stopping the war, seeing someone like de Mello gave people some sort of weak hope. It gave you the feeling that, no, the Americans couldn’t run amuck in Baghdad without the watchful of eye of the international community.

Bremer is trying to link it to resistance and Al-Qaeda … this is a new type of attack. *This* is terrorism, Mr. Bush … not the attack of occupying forces—that’s resistance. Attacking humanitarian organizations you could not, or would not, protect. A type of terrorism Iraqis hadn’t seen until this occupation—we never had people bombing the UN or embassies, no matter how difficult things got. The UNSCOM [UN Special Commission] were definitely unloved here, but they were protected. America, as an occupying power, is responsible for the safety and security of what is left of this country. They are responsible for the safety and security of any international humanitarian organizations inside of the country to help the people. They have been shirking their duties horribly … but you would think someone like Sergio de Mello could have gotten better.

Somehow I’m terrified. If someone like de Mello couldn’t, or simply wasn’t, protected—what’s going to happen to the millions of people needing protection in Iraq? How could this have been allowed to happen?

Some news channel was just saying that when Bremer got the news, he broke down and cried … I don’t know why. It certainly wasn’t his loss … it was Iraq’s. posted by river @ 1:32 PM

Thursday, August 21, 2003

EMAILS

Wow. Dozens of emails were the result of being on Salam’s blog. I was astounded. I guess I never thought so many people would end up reading the blog. It has made me appreciative and nervous all at the same time.

Most of the emails moved me to … gratitude. Thank you for understanding … no, thank you for even *trying* to understand. Other emails, on the other hand, were full of criticism, cynicism, and anger. You really don’t have to read my blog if you don’t want to and you certainly don’t have to email me telling me how much you hate it. It’s great to get questions and differing opinions—but please be intelligent about it, and above all, creative—if I want to hear what Fox News has to say, I’ll watch it.

And keep one thing in mind—tanks and guns can break my bones, but emails can be deleted. posted by river @ 3:13 PM

MY NEW TALENT

Suffering from a bout of insomnia last night, I found myself in front of the television, channel-surfing. I was looking for the usual—an interesting interview with one of the council, some fresh news, a miracle … Promptly at 2 am, the electricity went off and I was plunged into the pitch black hell better-known as an August night with no electricity in Iraq. So I sat there, in the dark, trying to remember where I had left the candle and matches. After 5 minutes of chagrined meditation, I decided I would feel my way up the stairs and out onto the roof. Step by hesitant step, I stumbled out into the corridor and up the stairs, stubbing a toe on the last step (which wasn’t supposed to be there).

(For those of you who don’t know, people sleep up on the roof in some of the safer areas because when the electricity goes off, the houses get so hot, it feels like you are cooking gently inside of an oven. The roof isn’t much better, but at least there’s a semblance of wind.)

Out on the roof, the heat was palpitating off of everything in waves. The strange thing is that if you stand in the center, you can feel it emanating from the walls and ground toward you from all directions. I stood there trying to determine whether it was only our area, or the whole city, that had sunk into darkness.

A few moments later, my younger brother (we’ll call him E.) joined me—disheveled, disgruntled and half-asleep. We stood leaning on the low wall enclosing the roof watching the street below. I could see the tip of Abu Maan’s cigarette glowing in the yard next door. I pointed to it with the words, Abu Maan can’t sleep either … E. grunted with the words, It’s probably Maan. I stood staring at him like he was half—wild—or maybe talking in his sleep. Maan is only 13 … how is he smoking? How can he be smoking?

He’s only 13. I stated.

Is anyone only 13 anymore? he asked.

I mulled the reality of this remark over. No, no one is 13 anymore. No one is 24 anymore … everyone is 85 and I think I might be 105. I was too tired to speak and, in spite of his open eyes, I suspected E. was asleep. The silence was shattered a few moments later by the sound of bullets in the distance. It was just loud enough to get your attention, but too far away to be the source of any real anxiety. I tried to determine where they were coming from …

E: How far do you think that is?

Me: I don’t know … ‘bout a kilometer?

E: Yeah, about.

Me: Not American bullets—

E: No, it’s probably from a …

Me: Klashnikov [Kalishnikov].

E (impressed): You’re getting good at this.

No—I’m getting great at it. I can tell you if it’s them or us. I can tell you how far away it is. I can tell you if it’s a pistol or machine-gun, tank or armored vehicle, Apache or Chinook … I can determine the distance and maybe even the target. That’s my new talent. It’s something I’ve gotten so good at, I frighten myself. What’s worse is that almost everyone seems to have acquired this new talent … young and old. And it’s not something that anyone will appreciate on a resume …

I keep wondering … will an airplane ever sound the same again? posted by river @ 3:15 PM

AL-CHALABI … NO STRINGS ATTACHED!

So I just saw Al-Chalabi on tv. He was interviewed by a prominent reporter for Al-Arabiya. I missed it last night and this morning. But my cousin, who has a generator, kindly recorded it for me (she knows Al-Chalabi is one of the few politicians that can make me laugh).

What can I say? He is incredible in interviews—almost as good as Bush (comically infuriating). I can see why the Pentagon adopted him—he would be fun to train, a pet monkey of sorts …

Anyway, the interview started out more or less reasonably—he was shining all over (I could swear there was lip-gloss). He really doesn’t know how to talk. I think Bremer should forbid him from giving interviews from now until elections—and if they decide to make him president, someone can just write his speeches for him. But he really is an embarrassment to the CIA at this point.

The most amusing part of the interview was when they showed one of his former bodyguards (who he denied knowing with a vengeance worthy of an Oscar). The ex-bodyguard was complaining how when the INC [Iraqi National Congress] first came into Baghdad, and began recruiting people, they seemed reasonable enough. Suddenly, they had overtaken the Sayd Club, a recreational club (not exclusive to the past regime) and turned the INC into a militia.

They were hijacking cars in the middle of Baghdad during April, May and June, claiming that the cars they were confiscating at gunpoint were looted (hence, property of Al-Chalabi?). The cars were kept in the headquarters and smuggled out of Iraq and to the Kurdish territory. The nicer ones were split amongst the members of the INC. Someone or another who wasn’t getting a piece of the action complained to the CPA [Coalition Provisional Authority] and Al-Chalabi & Co. were given a collective slap on the wrist and told not to do it again.

After this was brought up, Ahmad Al-Chalabi was just charming—he promptly sneered and told the reporter that it was all LIES! LIES! LIES! And just how much had they paid that witness!? Then he continued to insult the reporter, telling him that they had stooped to a new low (Al-Chalabi’s specialty) or in7i6a6 (in Arabish)! The reporter asked him about Jordanian allegations and the Jordanian parliament wanting to bring him to justice … he said that it was all LIES! And the Jordanian parliament was a disgrace to the people, etc. He wasn’t a crook, he wasn’t a thief, he wasn’t a puppet. The Iraqis and Jordanians are collectively deranged and ridiculous …

In my opinion, the reporter was asking the wrong questions. He should have asked him how he spent the INC funds given to him by the CIA (certainly not on his wardrobe).

The whole interview brought to mind the Associated Press report from August 11 (by Mark Fritz). Especially the first line:

Iraq is swimming in oil, but anybody who thinks that such natural wealth translates into a fat and happy middle class is in for a crude awakening.

… well naturally—we’ll have to pay off Ahmad Al-Chalabi’s debtors first—can’t really expect anything to be left for the people, can we? posted by river @ 4:58 PM

Friday, August 22, 2003

SETTING THE RECORD STRAIGHT

I’m going to set the record straight, once and for all.

I don’t hate Americans, contrary to what many people seem to believe. Not because I love Americans, but simply because I don’t hate Americans, like I don’t hate the French, Canadians, Brits, Saudis, Jordanians, Micronesians, etc. It’s that simple. I was brought up, like millions of Iraqis, to have pride in my own culture and nationality. At the same time, like millions of Iraqis, I was also brought up to respect other cultures, nations and religions. Iraqi people are inquisitive, by nature, and accepting of different values—as long as you do not try to impose those values and beliefs upon them.

Although I hate the American military presence in Iraq in its current form, I don’t even hate the American troops … or wait, sometimes I do:

—I hated them all through the bombing. Every single day and night we had to sit in terror of the next bomb, the next plane, the next explosion. I hated them when I saw the expression of terror, and remembrance, on the faces of my family and friends, as we sat in the dark, praying for our lives, the lives of our loved ones and the survival of Iraq.

—I hated them on April 11—a cool, gray day: the day our family friend lost her husband, her son and toddler daughter when a tank hit the family car as they were trying to evacuate the house in Al-A’adhamiya district—an area that saw heavy fighting.

—I hated them on June 3 when our car was pulled over for some strange reason in the middle of Baghdad and we (3 women, a man and a child) were made to get out and stand in a row, while our handbags were rummaged, the men were frisked and the car was thoroughly checked by angry, brisk soldiers. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to put into words the humiliation of being searched.

—I hated them for two hours on July 13. As we were leaving Baghdad, we were detained with dozens of other cars at a checkpoint in the sweltering, dizzying heat.

—I hated them the night my cousin’s house was raided—a man with a wife, daughter and two young girls. He was pushed out of the house with his hands behind his head while his wife and screaming daughters were made to wait in the kitchen as around 20 troops systematically searched the house, emptying closets, rummaging underwear drawers and overturning toy boxes.

—I hated them on April 28 when they shot and killed over a dozen kids and teenagers in Fallojeh [Falluja]—a place west of Baghdad. The American troops had taken over a local school (one of the only schools) and the kids and parents went to stand in front of the school in a peaceful demonstration. Some kids started throwing rocks at the troops, and the troops opened fire on the crowd. That incident was the beginning of bloodshed in