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Doug's Iraq Journey for students 

Thursday, March 13, 2003---Day 21 

A group of 7 newcomers arrived today after waiting for over a week in Amman for their visas.  Two others, a married couple, were denied visas because they both once worked for the CIA.  I got to meet the 7 at dinner tonight, and tomorrow morning I’m accompanying them to a book-sellers market held every Friday.

     Speaking of visas, I learned from David today that on the VitW website it says I’m scheduled to leave Iraq on March 17.  When I last renewed my visa on March 10, I was told that I would have to leave on the 17^th, but there is hardly anyone on our team that hasn’t been told to leave at one time or another.  When that happens, Kathy makes a call on our behalf, and bingo - the visas are extended.  Lately, however, there seems to have been a crackdown.  After about a month’s stay, several delegates were denied extensions and had to leave.  Even Thorne, a great journalist, was denied an extension and must leave tomorrow.  It doesn’t make sense.  Why are they letting 7 more in if they want us gone?  We’re here to stop the war, so why not let Americans flood Iraq?  I will do everything in my power to stay here when the 17^th rolls around.

     Everyday there’s a new rumor about when the war will start.  I think it’s safe to say that war has been just around the corner for months, but the world peace movement has so far staved it off.  Some in our group have been here since October, and they, like the Iraqis, have endured the painful anticipation.  Today we received yet another warning:  war could come as early as Saturday (day after tomorrow), according to a “reliable source” in Amman.  When Kathy Breen, a ‘long-timer’ heard this, she said seriously, “I’ll try to remember that.”  I replied, “when the bombs start falling you’re going to say ‘I knew I was forgetting something.’”  Rumzi got a good laugh out of that.  (You had to be there.)

     We received our War-Crimes Monitoring questionnaire today and will begin training Saturday.  The questionnaire begins with a choice of the type of report: Bombing (general), destruction to property, use of civilian object by military, injury to person(s), death to person(s), and use of civilians to protect military objects.  This is followed by a list of “damaged or misused sites,” which includes places like hospitals, mosques, churches, schools, power plants, water or sewage treatment plants, etc.  The remaining bulk of the questionnaire includes eight parts that provide for more descriptive details of the crime and distinguishing characteristics of the victims.  Although the procedure appears very simple and straightforward, Kathy Kelly assures us that it can become very complex.

     While sitting on my balcony this evening, I met my neighbor on the adjoining balcony.  He’s half Iraqi, half Swedish, and he lived for 12 years in the states before moving back to Sweden.  He said that he no longer felt comfortable or safe in the states as the Bush regime pushed for war and anti-Arab sentiments increased.  When he asked how I got involved in the Iraq issue (he’s a journalist), I explained that I’m a late bloomer in terms of peace activism.  Only in the last few years did I begin to wake up to the devastating effects of US imperialism, and it was only when I heard the president declare his intention to attack Iraq that I knew I had to do something.  Six months later I came here.  My neighbor expressed an interest in interviewing me, saying that I represent hundreds of thousands of Americans who are “undergoing a renaissance.”  

Friday, March 14, 2003---Day 22 

I woke up this morning not feeling well and realized immediately that I had a mild case of diarrhea.  I came to Iraq to experience in a small way some of the hardships Iraqis face, and diarrhea certainly fits the bill. 

     Drinking tap water in Iraq is dangerous.  Water-treatment plants are in disrepair, and I’ve explained why in previous journal entries.  But it hadn’t really hit home what that meant.  It means that bacteria from sewage ends up in your stomach.  For millions here that translates into waking up not feeling well, for too many it means severe diarrhea or typhoid, and for babies and the elderly, it means possible death.  For me, because I brought medicine from the US, and because I have money, it means mild discomfort.  I can afford bottled water – unlike most Iraqis.  When I’m served raw vegetables or salads rinsed in tap water, I have the luxury of refusing it, while hungry children here do not.  Even when I brush my teeth, I can use bottled water.  Yet, even after the most stringent precautions, I somehow got sick.  Imagine that you’re an Iraqi mother who is forced to give dirty tap water to your baby, then you watch your baby die of diarrhea or typhoid.  It’s a daily occurrence here.  Ending the 12 years of sanctions would solve the problem.

     I went to an outside book fair this morning with the newly arrived IPT delegation.  

One narrow street in central Baghdad was blocked off and filled with vendors and browsers.  

At first glance it seemed an exciting bustle of raw commerce: thousands of curious bargain hunters leafing through piles of books stacked on the sidewalk, with food and drink vendors interspersed.  But a closer look showed that the books being sold were mostly old text-books and personal libraries of college educated professionals that are destitute.  And the browsers were mostly too poor to afford them.  Beggars, small children and women carrying babies, approached me one after the other.  “Mista,” they would call me.  “Money… please.”  The children, skinny and adorable, tried to sell me trinkets.  They tugged at my pants.  One kept tapping the big wad of dinar in my pocket as he looked into my eyes.  Another little boy followed me for three blocks trying to sell me candy. 

      A girl that looked to be around 14 approached me with a baby in her arms, the baby had dried mucus all over his face and appeared sick, and the girl made a gesture with her hand as if to feed herself.  She wanted money for food.  I asked her age (Faruke, our driver, translated) and she responded “I don’t know.”  I wanted to feed her, but once I opened my wallet I would be swamped with thousands of desperate pleas.  These people will not survive the war, I thought.

     I then took the new delegation to the Amaria Shelter, where a team of Spanish activists staged a rally.  Scores of people showed up and several from our group spoke.  In my hotel, in addition to Spaniards and Americans, there are currently people from Canada, South Korea, France, Germany, Norway, Ireland, Sweden, and Australia.  In other hotels, more countries are represented.  The world does not want this war. 

"The people want peace; indeed, I believe they want peace so badly that the governments will just have to step aside and let them have it."
- -Dwight Eisenhower

A blog from Iraq

Monday, March 17, 2003---Day 25

I’ve experienced two tornados in my life.  One when I was a little kid in Ottawa, Illinois, and another 25 years later.  Both times I remember the calm before the storm that lulled me into complacency and denial.  In a sense, the atmosphere in Baghdad reminds me of that.

     We all know what’s coming.  We speak of it off-handedly… “They’re going to flatten the city, there’ll be nonstop carpet-bombing for 72 hours, e-bombs will take out all electronics” etc., but for the most part we detach ourselves from our emotions because we have to.  We’re scared, yeah, but probably not as much as we should be.  And to look into the sky it’s hard to imagine Apache helicopters filling them.  It’s hard to believe the storm’s really coming.  Word is it’s 48 hours away.

     We received First Aid training this afternoon amidst the noise of war preparations.  While April, an M.D., showed us how to treat lacerations and gaping wounds with duct tape, the hotel crew fastened iron girders over the picture windows.  While their power tools were humming, we were taught some basics, like how to know if someone is dead, whether unconsciousness is due to head trauma, how to respond to blocked air passages, and so on.  As April explained, ‘first aid’ is really a misnomer since there will be no secondary follow-up.  I question whether I’ll be of any use as a “medic,” given my limited training and the likelihood that things will be chaotic.  I was orientated on how to report war crimes so I might be more useful in that area.

     Today Martin bought shovels, crowbars, a cutting torch and other accessories.  As I write this, Bettyjo is taping my bedroom window.  (She’s from Florida and knows how to prepare for storms.)   Today Charlie issued us all a set of earplugs.  Scott gave me two walkie-talkies and asked that I take charge of communications for the Al Fanar.  Tonight we test them out at 9:00 pm; we’ll talk to each other from three different hotels.  And we begin a self-imposed curfew starting tonight at sundown – which comes around 6:30.

     Except for the curfew, most of our preparations are not available to Iraqis.  They don’t have shelters, walkie-talkies, or medical supplies.  I came here to experience life through their perspective, but I can’t say that I’m doing a good job of it now.  I haven’t even had a chance to go into the community to talk to Iraqis in the last two days.

     For two days, other than preparing for the storm, I’ve been trying to stay in the country.  I was denied a visa renewal yesterday, then Mr. Wadah told us today that eight of us have to leave.  Nevertheless, I tried one more time at the visa office – expecting the worst, and I was stunned when I received a two week extension.  Unless the government kicks us all out tomorrow, I’ll be here through the war.

FIRST STRIKE

Middle East News: Project of FOR

Kathy Kelly from Baghdad

I awoke this morning at 3:30 AM from a knock on my door.  It was Cathy Breen telling me in a pleasant voice “we got word that the bombers are coming, so you should start getting your stuff together.”  It seemed like any normal wake-up call.  I dressed, collected my crash kit, and headed to the floor below – our designated meeting place - where Kathy Kelly and others began to congregate.  Kathy offered me coffee from her room, and I was surprised at how good it tasted.

     Others began to arrive.  Cynthia showed up with a heavy bag, which I took from her and helped her to the basement.  There, I found a number of women and small children occupying the row of beds crammed into the tight shelter, and I realized there wouldn’t be enough room for me.  After rejoining our group on the second floor I walked back and forth to my balcony to peek outside.  A nearly-full moon illuminated the Palestine Hotel across the street and city lights reflected on the rippling Tigris.  Within a half hour, all from our group were accounted for and we lazily slumped against the wall, waiting.

     At 5:30 AM, thunder sounded in the distance.  Bombs struck the earth, and like an irregular heartbeat they pounded in our chests and hotel walls simultaneously.  I ran to the balcony.  The sky streaked with flashes and flares, as anti-aircraft missiles chased phantom jets, followed by more thunder and pounding.  Our building shook.  The picture windows flexed but held true.  For over an hour the explosions continued, and as the sun rose over Baghdad I saw plumes of smoke rising from the ground on the outskirts of the city.  Suddenly, everything became quiet.

     We received reports from journalists that the fiercest campaigns are in the south and west.  I’m told that a sand storm is slowing the US military’s advance, and at the same time rumors are circulating that the Iraqi military is surrendering in mass numbers.  I don’t know what to believe.

     Most businesses and stores are closed, traffic is very light, and Baghdad steadfastly awaits the next attack.  I mentioned to the Louisville media earlier today that if the US thinks they can pound the Iraqis into submission, they are sorely mistaken.  These people are hardened by 2 wars and over 12 years of sanctions, and any attack will only strengthen their resolve.  I said in another interview that part of me wishes the Iraqi military would capitulate, because the quickest way to end a war is to lose it.  Although the Iraqis may lose the war, they will not be beaten.  A peaceful occupation of Iraq, I believe, will not be possible.

     The US claims to be liberating Iraqis from their despotic leader.  Before that, the war was to rid this country of WMD.  Prior to that there was the phony link to 9/11.  Americans should remember that the US supported Saddam Hussain’s rise to power, provided him with the second largest military in the Middle East, gave him WMD, including biological and chemical weapons – plus the beginnings of a nuclear weapons program.  At one time George Bush Sr. and Donald Rumsfeld both called Saddam their friend and ally. 

     At no time since the late 40’s has the US wanted democracy in this region.  Quite the opposite.  To insure the US’s access to cheap oil, people like Bush Sr. wanted an “iron fisted” ruler to stabilize the region and hold the various ethnic factions together, despite their will for independence.  This meant arming Iraq to destroy Iran.  It meant arming Turkey to slaughter Iraqi Kurds. It meant standing by as a Shiite uprising was put down by US manufactured mustard gas.  It meant calling Saddam Hussain “our kind of guy.”  It meant anything but democracy.

     Today’s bombing of Baghdad is merely the continuation of this long-standing policy.  The Iraqis have always stood in the way between their oil and US interests.  Kathy Kelly said yesterday that “in 1991 – after the Gulf War – we told the Iraqis that we need to starve them so that we don’t have to bomb them.  Twelve years later, after their society is decimated, we now tell them that we need to bomb them so that we don’t have to starve them.”  If that’s “liberation,” then George Dubya Bush is a great humanitarian.