Nasty Letters To Crooked Politicians

As we enter a new era of politics, we hope to see that Obama has the courage to fight the policies that Progressives hate. Will he have the fortitude to turn the economic future of America to help the working man? Or will he turn out to be just a pawn of big money, as he seems to be right now.

Sunday, November 28, 2004

This time last year…

Sun, Nov 28, 2004 at 12:32AM

** Dahr Jamail's Iraq Dispatches **
** **

November 28, 2004

This time last year…

I’m 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, “Yes 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!”

His jokes provide him with great amusement…but I’ve 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 “the bomb car.” Abu Talat tells me, “Come
on, we’ll take the bomb car and go to this interview I’ve fixed.”

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 “thump” 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
NGO’s 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 they’d 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.

“During the Najaf fighting, things were not like this,” said a doctor I
interviewed later, “There 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?”

Every doctor I’ve 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

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 tent…finding nothing.

“Is a 70 year-old woman Osama bin Laden,” the sheikh asked, “Are 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.”

He added, “Now a 6 year-old will grow up hating the Americans. Now a 70
year-old woman is saying, ‘God-damn the Americans!”

Other refugees, like Aziz Abdulla, 27 years old, tell more stories of
what they saw in Fallujah. “I saw so many civilians killed there, and I
saw several tanks roll over the wounded in the streets.”

Abu Mohammed, 40 years old, told us he saw the military use cluster
bombs. A 12 year-old boy told me, “The Americans smashed our city,
killed thousands of people, destroyed our mosques and hospitals. Now
they come to our camp. Why?”

“The tanks rolled over wounded people in the streets,” said 45 year-old
Abu Aziz near his tent, “They shot so many wounded people who went to
mosques for shelter. Even the graves were bombed.”

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. “I had so much hope when the Americans came here,”
he said while drinking tea, “But 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.”

He paused, listened as another mortar exploded in the distance and said,
“Many 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.”

This time last year, the thought of 100,000 dead Iraqis and over 1,200
dead US soldiers seemed difficult to imagine.


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