Ed Kinane
Voices in The Wilderness
Baghdad
Saturday, Sept 27, 2003

6:35a.m. An explosion gets me up. Time to get up anyway. Didn’t sleep so well last night.

Haythem was supposed to get back from Nasariya and the marshes yesterday, but no sign of him. He was returning there for two or three days to follow up on stories he’s writing for Iraq Today, Baghdad’s major English-language weekly. In Nasariya he’s been interviewing the hospital staff who were caring for Jessica Lynch.

In a recent Stars and Stripes there are two letters from soldiers in Iraq annoyed that Jessica has gotten so much attention. What about the soldiers killed or captured with her? Sorry, guys, but it does help to be photogenic and the object of an army media hoax (the staged rescue). We hear that Jessica’s book is soon coming out and that movie rights have been bought. [Later. Haythem is back. He says Iraq Today has turned down his Jessica Lynch story. They tell him it’s old stuff.]

VISITING AL-MUSTANSURIYA
Got the tour of one of Baghdad’s universities this morning. It reminds me of a U.S. community college in scale and architecture, though there’s probably no community college in the US where bombed out buildings are prominent. It seems that during the invasion the US got word Tariq Aziz, Iraq’s foreign minister, was at the campus. Hence the bombings: an assassination attempt.

Al-Mustansuriya has a morning program and an evening program. Books and tuition are free in the morning. There are fees for the evening program. The university has masters and Ph.D. programs. My hosts, Hussam and Mountesser, are recent grads, but because they are grads they didn’t know many of the students now there.

The curious thing is that although the campus was teeming with people, there are no classes currently and they don’t know when classes will begin. Maybe in a month. People come to the campus looking for jobs, to take makeup exams, and to meet friends. In this oasis, there are couples conducting their low-key romances.

H&M say that in Iraq men and women don’t shake hands. I ask if that’s true of both Sunnis and Shias. They say it’s true of Moslems, Christians, everybody. As we walk around the campus, we meet a cluster of several young women who graduated with Hussam and Mountesser. We certainly don’t shake hands. H&M encourage the women to ask me questions. (I had already told H&M that I was open to questions, both personal and political and challenging from students.)

The liveliest and most self-confident of the women asks me what I think of her clothes; she’s dressed traditionally with her head hair well covered. I say this style can be elegant and I feel fine about it if it’s freely chosen. I don’t yet have a sense for what the sartorial range of choice is. Jeans are worn by some guys on campus and a few even wear ties. They seem like middle-management types. These are the first ties I’ve seen worn in Iraq.

I get into a lively exchange with Ahkmed, a student who has a job with Titan, a U.S. corporation dealing with systems, whatever that means. Ahkmed’s father had been an air force major. He had gotten some schooling in England. When he refused to join the Ba’ath party, he was demoted to captain. Ahkmed attributes his father’s premature death to Ba’ath harassment. I speak frankly to Ahkmed about the Bush administration and the U.S. empire. This isn’t his perspective, but he says my words help him make sense of some things.

We go to meet Dr. T, a manager of one of the university facilities. Alone among the administrators I’ve met in Iraq, Dr. T doesn’t converse in English. Is this a way of modeling not speaking the invader’s language? He addresses his remarks to the several students present rather than to me. It seems like a teaching moment. Some things in his robust and lengthy discourse they choose not to translate.

Dr. T says the U.S. is suffering from double standards: the CPA dismisses lower level Ba’ath members but keep the higher-ups in place. Milan Rai’s recent book, Regime Unchanged, argues much the same thesis. I ask Dr. T if it’s true that university records were looted, and if so, why. He says that Iraq depends on paper. By eliminating the records, some will now be able to pose as having degrees.

Dr. T answers No and Yes when I ask if he thought some of the Ali Babas [looters] came from outside the country. He says U.S. tanks broke into the university compound allowing the looters to enter: The U.S. had its hands in the Ali Baba. He says the U.S. planned the looting to make the world think Iraqis were rabble and to distract from the invasion. Also, the U.S. wants business for U.S. construction companies. (Arson often accompanied the looting.)

M&H, and two friends, accompany me back to our house a lengthy taxi ride.

As they had insisted on paying for the cab earlier, I insist on paying for the return trip ten bills (that’s 2500 dinar, or about $1.25). My offer to take us to lunch isn’t accepted. When we get home, as is customary, I immediately pour them water. They fix themselves some tea. One of the guys asks if I have any articles I’ve written. (They’ve been checking me out pretty carefully.) I show them a Peace Newsletter and call attention to the Peace Council statement of purpose. Hussam translates many of my Reasons; to one of the guys who doesn’t speak English.

H&M are eager to link their group up with other progressives groups internationally. Hussam copies down the Peace Council website info. They will be getting back to me in a week about our trip to Thawra. It’s going to take some arranging.

After the guys leave, I eat, nap and write about the day. In the early evening I head to the internet to respond to any incoming e-mail. As I walk in, Sonia, the young woman who works there, greets me with a handshake. Our first. Another first: my logging-in goes without a hitch.