"This is what I love," he said, "bringing people together to eat and drink and laugh, and to talk about art and life." Later, in private, he apologizes for the small turnout. Typically, 40 or 50 people attend his parties. "People are not going to gallery openings or receptions now. They are preoccupied with war." Quassem's yard, edged with olive, banana, and citrus trees, houses a small sculpture garden, with exquisite works in bronze and marble, and inside the middle-class home, a gallery displays 50 paintings and sculptures by Iraqi artists. "I have an exhibit of paintings opening in three weeks," he continues. "I am not going to stop my work. But let me tell you something. If the U.S. invades, I will send my family to Jordan and sit here in my yard with my gun and wait."
The Bush administration portrays itself as acting on behalf of the Iraqi people, characterizing its military plans as a "war of liberation," but Bush should consult the Iraqi people first. In interviews with more than 25 Iraqis over ten days, I have come away with a clear impression that Iraqis are fiercely opposed to this war. If President Bush spoke with the Iraqis I have met, he would realize how independent-minded the people are, and how unjust they consider the threat to invade.
Kareem Mahood, who sells televisions and appliances in a brightly-lit, air-conditioned store on Karrada Street in Baghdad's upscale commercial district, asked, "We have not attacked the U.S., so why are they planning to attack us? Look," he continued, "we have oil, and you have money. You want the oil; well, we do not want to drink our oil. Why can't we just do business?" Salah Dinar, a music store owner, echoes these sentiments. "We want to be independent, to control our own resources, to live in peace." Some people, like Waleed Mohammed, were more blunt. "Leave us alone. It is our problem."
In Iraq, Saddam Hussein is ubiquitous, but no one speaks of him. Basic rights to free speech and assembly and to due process are trampled. There can be no doubt that Iraqi people do not like having their human rights violated by their government, but even the threat of war is a further erosion of those rights.
Noor Skaik, a primary school teacher in Basra shakes her fist and asks, "Why is your government threatening us? What about our human rights?" Many Iraqi families chose not to enroll their children in school last fall, preferring instead to put money for registration and supplies towards preparation in the event of a war. Other families have sent their children to live in uncertain circumstances in Jordan or Syria, thinking they will at least be safe from U.S. bombs. In Jordan I was told, "You will find more and more Iraqi children begging on the streets of Amman and Damascus," and I learned that non-governmental organizations in Jordan are quietly preparing for an influx of Iraqi refugees.
Shop owners in Baghdad report that business has dropped in the last two months. "People are watching the news, and waiting," says Tamal al-Hussein, who sells crystal and other fine glassware. Not surprisingly, he reports, people are stockpiling emergency itemsÑfood, water, batteries, kerosene. Luxury items, such as televisions and crystal decanters, gather dust on shelves.
Zainab Fartous, an English teacher and mother of four with a quick smile and lively eyes, knows firsthand the grave consequences of war. She is the center of an extended family of 25 people, all living under one roof in the al-Jumeriyyah neighborhood of Basra. As I step through a crowd of children into her home, she lifts her expressive face and says, "Welcome! Welcome. This is your home." There is no furniture. For two hours, we sit on the floor. Children come and go. The talk is cheerful, mostly about a group of Americans we both know, who lived in the neighborhood for two months in the summer of 2000. Stories are told. The concrete walls amplify our laughter and the voices of children. Throughout, Zainab is a gracious hostessÑarranging for tea and pillows, smiling, answering questionsÑand an attentive mother, playing, comforting, responding. Then, in one private and unexpected moment, she drops her guard. Turning an intense, wide-eyed face toward me, she asks, "What is the mood in the U.S.? Do you think they will attack?" I tell her, "It is what they plan to do," to which she turns her darkened face away.
Like millions of very poor people in Iraq, there is little that Zainab and her family can do to prepare and protect themselves from war, and the risks that war presents are enormous. On January 25, 1999, a U.S. warplane fired a guided missile that exploded in Zainab's neighborhood, killing five children including her seven-year-old son, Heider, and permanently injuring her other son, Mustafa. The block she lives on is now referred to as "Missile Street," because so many houses were damaged or destroyed in the explosion. An Air Force spokesperson informed me later that year that the "missile went off course." The "problem," he added quickly, "has been corrected." But Zainab knows well that if there is war, other bombs will stray, other children will die.
"Of course war will be hardest on people who are poor," says Tourben Due, head of the UN World Food Program in Iraq. Consider that most of Iraq's 24 million citizens depend heavily on a monthly food ration distributed by the government and monitored by the UN Oil-For-Food Program. UNICEF recently termed it "almost total dependence." For some families, the spartan contents of the rationÑflour, sugar, rice, lentils, cooking oil, tea, soapÑcomprise their entire income. According to Due, people actually spend their food to obtain medicine or clothing. Because this food is imported, distribution begins at the ports, and continues overland through an elaborate countrywide system. Disruption of this system, especially if it occurs over a period of months, will imperil people. An aerial assault targeting civilian infrastructure such as roads, bridges, and the electrical grid, could provoke a humanitarian catastrophe. "Pregnant and lactating women as well as young children are the most likely victims." (UNICEF, 2002)
I ask Zainab what she needs. "We need clothes for the children, especially coats for winter, and shoes. We need food and medicine." Daily life under sanctions remains a battle for survival which war will only intensify. As a school teacher, Zainab earns less than $5 a month, an almost meaningless sum, and food prices in Iraq are extremely volatile. After the September 11th attacks, when prices rose sharply, the World Food Program had to intervene. According to UNICEF, "chaos" will be the "immediate effect" of a war because it will interrupt the distribution of food in Iraq. "Famine on a large scale" and widespread starvation are possible consequences. We renew our friendship with Zainab and promise to visit her again. "Inshala," she says anxiously, "God willing."
Dr. Assad Essa, Chief Resident at Basra Pediatrics and Maternity Hospital, considers war inevitable. "The hospital is preparing. Besides the health sector, we should be preparing in every aspect of society, because we know that America wants to attack. If it is not today, it will be tomorrow." He also sounds a note I hear from many Americans. "Invading Iraq will be bad for Iraq and for America. It will not make Americans safer from violent acts." And like many Iraqis, he believes the U.S. government is "making pretexts for war." He offers this straightforward analysis: "The U.S. wants to control the resources of other countries, especially rich countries."
Dr. Nazar al-Ambergy, Law School Dean at Baghdad University, elaborates. "At some point, the U.S. will claim non-cooperation with weapons inspections or support for terrorism. It is under no real obligation to provide proof, because it lives by the law of the strongest." I ask Dr. al-Ambergy, "What would you think of a long-term U.S. military presence in Iraq?" He answers simply, "What you describe is occupation."
These are not knee-jerk or emotional responses: the Iraqi people I spoke with don't believe their government is a threat to the U.S. Can they prove this? Do they have secret information? Of course not. But like many Americans, they are not convinced by the arguments being offered for an attack.
Considering their experience, their perspective is important. After all, they've lived through the massive destruction of the Gulf War, and they live daily with the terror of no-fly zone bombings and the deadly drama of 12 years of economic sanctions that have strangled their economy and blocked the importation of necessary humanitarian goods. They know our government, despite much international opposition, has supported these policies and actions. They have seen the requirements for lifting sanctions changed again and again. They have seen the us co-opt the weapons inspections process, and use data it collected to target and bomb Iraqi facilities. On this issue, the people I spoke with are not blind or merely repeating official propaganda; they speak out of a depth of legitimate knowledge, born of experience.
Copyright Mendocino Environmental Center 2003
Permission granted to excerpt or use this article if source is cited