A Santa Fe journalist reflects on reporting Iraq two years later.
Last year my visit with photographer Laurent Guerin was to gather portraits and interviews of more than 100 Iraqi citizens for The Baghdad Project [Cover story, May 5: "Seeing Behind the Lines"]. The intent was to bring human faces into the US media and introduce Americans to real Iraqis. With a translator and driver, we traveled in a beat-up Volkswagon Rabbit, and spoke to most anyone we cared to wherever we went.
I was hoping this time to include a follow-up on those individuals, many of whom became friends. And though I did manage to catch up with several Iraqis I met previously, many others remained frustratingly out of reach. The dangers were just too great. So I decided to try a military embed.
Consider a comparison of my two experiences. When I arrived in Baghdad last year, I spent my first evening in a busy Karada street café eating chocolate mint ice cream and marveling at the Iraqis' English skills and kindness. My first night this year
I was loaned new kevlar body armor and told to familiarize myself with the locations of all the camp's bunkers. And then the mortars began. The difference is not just about working unilaterally versus being embedded with the US Army; it's about the state of things in Iraq today. The fact that I chose to embed at all is not a factor of my renewed interest in the
military machinations of a full-fledged occupation, but of the extraordinary level of danger for Western journalists wanting to work in Iraq. Which isn't to say I'm not interested in the military. Issues of combat stress and Post Traumatic Stress
Disorder will haunt our country for decades to come, and if we don't begin really examining when and how it begins and how to
recognize it in individuals early on, it could have tragic consequences.
But, as I said, my initial desire was to continue my work with Iraqis, and I thought I might even be able to do this through the military. That simply was impossible, and the sadness from this realization stayed with me throughout my time in Iraq.
When people ask me now, on the second anniversary, what I think of the situation
in Iraq, I say it's a mess-and it's getting messier. This doesn't mean there aren't good things happening on the ground, because there are. For
example, Iraqis had an election that more than anything infused people with a sense of hope and optimism I hadn't seen in a long time. They are coming together at council meetings across Iraq to plan and execute their future as best they can. They are beginning to put their faith in their own army, which is being trained and enforced every day.
There also are many good and decent Americans wanting to improve such amenities as water and sewer systems, rebuild schools and provide Iraqis with educational supplies. US soldiers are training Iraqi soldiers and police to take over their own security, which could be the most essential task as security, two years into the war, is worse than ever. Iraq, as I said, is a mess. It is dangerous and deadly and the lives of Iraqis have certainly not improved. Some are glad to be free of a dictator. This is no small detail. Nor is the fact that a growing number
want nothing more than to see another strongman come and put
things back in order.
Trying to bring every facet of a multi-faceted war into focus is a challenge for every journalist, particularly with the escalating danger. I'm not sure, these days, that any of us can do it
exceptionally well. Many of us have already died trying.
I spent about a quarter of my
time in Iraq on my own, nervous and in negotiations with various translators and drivers trying to convince them that despite my Western looks we really would survive the day's assignment (my former translator escaped the country; another has been kidnapped). When the daily struggle and stress
became too exhausting, I returned to my embed with the US military.
The embed process for me was a nonstop journey of depression, fascination, repulsion, anger and gratitude to the US military for helping me cover, as best they could, the war in Iraq. Without them, it was unlikely that a freelancer like myself, with limited finds and fair skin, could have covered much at all. And it allowed me an unparalleled view into the occupation that I certainly had never experienced before, for better and for worse. I witnessed first hand the interaction between soldiers and Iraqis, occupiers and the country they occupy. But reporting such obvious cause and effect situations-from disrespectful interactions to outright criminal behavior against Iraqis- barely nicks the facade of America's war-mongering veneer.
Still, it is important for journalists to experience the American side: the sheer
terror and paranoia of driving the roads and wondering which piece of garbage, which dead animal or plastic bag may be hiding a bomb. It's important to know
the feeling of walking down the street and wondering if children or women with handbags are carrying explosives; if the man approaching with a question has a gun or if a cell phone call after we pass is preparation for an ambush. To cover this war it's essential to become familiar with the
smell of fear, with paranoia and
the instinct at all cost of
self-preservation, as it is the single most common experience for any soldier. It also was important for me to see, feel and smell what Iraqis experience on a continual basis, including suicide bombings, midnight raids, US rage and the threat of kidnap.
Civilian friends would tell me the danger was greatest when I was with the military
but I was oddly comforted by the steel and armed guards surrounding me. I had
protection Iraqis did not.
For example,
kidnapping-and sometimes beheading-of Westerners fills the front pages of newspapers, yet an average of 100 Iraqis are now kidnapped every day across
the country. Most of the victims are children, eventually returned for large and not-so-large sums of money, if they're returned at all.
Unemployment, for Iraqis, is still rampant across the country with most paying jobs revolving around servicing the occupation in one way or another. The threat to anyone who does this
work has grown exponentially and many of the translators working with the US military have been moved onto bases after receiving death threats. Now they cover their faces when out on patrol, and suspect other Iraqis on base who might be infiltrators. They take the job because it is more money than they can make anywhere else and, as one 23-year-old told me, "If I leave here I am a dead man. If I stay here I am a dead man. Why not make some money?" A female translator was sure the soldiers would take her with them when they left.
On the streets, if they appear at all, the majority of women are completely covered. Both men and women fear
an impending wave of Islamic fundamentalism and huge numbers are trying to escape the country, at least until things are calm. One of my dearest friends is among the lucky who managed to secure a visa to England. Another is a more common casualty: He and the journalist he was working with were kidnapped just days after my arrival. His whereabouts-or even if he is still alive-are still unknown. I dared not contact his wife and children, for whom I had brought a bag of gifts, for fear of compromising his safety and that of his family any more than it already was.
Americans live with a different reality.
The majority of soldiers are stationed on large bases, with multilevel security checks for anyone going in or out, and as many amenities as possible to make US personnel forget they are living in a
war zone. These mini-America
camps have become increasingly isolated, fortified and sterilized of almost anything resembling Iraqi culture. Dining halls are piled with unimaginable amounts of food served by Sri Lankan, Indian or Nepalese workers who live in their own restricted camps working 12 hours a day and often getting paid less than $300 a month. By comparison some private contractors hired to guard military bases and private corporations make up to $2,000 a day.
The majority of soldiers will never see the streets of Iraq, may never meet an Iraqi (unless he is a naturalized US citizen working as a translator), and often pass their non-work time, and a lot of their work time as well, playing violent video games
and fighting off boredom and/or depression. They build swimming pools, lay concrete foundations, and put more security barriers in place.
Once-protected military bases like the Green Zone, renamed the International Zone, have become virtual fortresses. In fact, concrete barriers have become so commonplace on the streets of Iraq, it's difficult to remember what homes and businesses were once there
before. I was based at Camp Victory, a sprawling plot of land that used to hold Saddam Hussein's wildlife preserve. Soldiers have taken over the palaces and turned them into offices, housing and a PX store where soldiers can buy anything from flat screen televisions to camouflage G-string underwear (for 79 cents!). There are the dissonant images and experiences: walking through the aisles of a Wal-Mart-like shopping center while helicopters buzz overhead or watching lines form around the base Burger King and hearing mortars explode in the distance. Supply rooms are filled with boxes and boxes of wet wipes, bathroom supplies and candy sent from home-whatever the soldiers or the media say they need. There are piles of
Maxim magazines with centerfolds torn from the bindings and laws against fraternization and pornography; portly soldiers depressed (and medicated) from sheer boredom; men and women disciplined for not wearing the right socks when their greatest concern is trying to avoid mortars and keep each other alive. There is constant Army Network
Services television (Propaganda TV, as the soldiers call it) showing
Survivor
and interspersed with public service announcements warning soldiers heading home to un-learn their dangerous Iraqi driving habits; not to drink too
heavily or share military secrets. Loose Lips Sink Ships, the ad reminds us. And there are amazing medical units
treating Iraqis, some of whom were wounded while trying to kill Americans.
Post-election rules dictate following Iraqi traffic laws, including waiting in dense traffic as Iraqis must do every day, but most soldiers will laugh at the edict and tell you it's a rule made up
by POGs (people other than grunts) who never leave base. It is the only order I hear soldiers say they will openly defy.
Aside from the daily
threat of bombs, mortars or other deadly accidents, the embed experience also provided me with more stress and censorship than I can remember. There are articles I knew I could not write until I left the sanctum of the US military establishment. Even now I am nervous about the pieces that will soon be printed. To make matters worse, my association with the military also made me a target once I left my embed. In the areas where I had been seen, and despite my efforts to stand apart from soldiers, I too became the enemy.
Two years later Iraq has become an exercise
in self-preservation
with the majority of Americans I met counting the days until they could go home. From the desk worker who never stepped off base, to the humvee driver
out on
patrol, most were just doing time until they could leave, like a prisoner enduring his sentence just hoping to make it out alive. Most had long given up on trying to justify the premise of the job.
Two years in, there still are not enough forces to actually protect the country or defend its
borders from foreign terrorists, and there are just enough for them to remain a disruptive, deadly presence that is attracting anyone eager to try their hand at killing an infidel. We have become a magnet, a cause, creating a breeding ground for
terrorism. Our rules and strategies are increasingly turned inward, focusing entirely on protecting American lives, despite the dangers to Iraqi citizens. Consider the frequent "accidents" of families (not to mention anti-war
Italians) gunned down at security checkpoints. The
car didn't stop, didn't heed the warnings, soldiers say, but what is a car to do in the
black of night with no visibility when gunshots are heard? They often speed up to avoid danger, not knowing they are driving directly into it. It is a scenario designed entirely to protect American lives, not Iraqis. And this is a minor example of what happens every day across the war-torn country, all in the name of providing Iraqis "freedom and democracy."
If the US cannot
participate in protecting the country they chose to occupy-and they have proven repeatedly that they cannot-they must pack their bags and leave, particularly
as the Kurdish issue begins to heat, and it is just the beginning. Many Iraqis are still terrified of a US withdrawal before the country is secured, often estimated to take three to five years.
But the situation is not likely to
get any better unless the Americans are replaced by a multi-national peacekeeping force. It is the same message I wrote following my visit last year, and
things have only gotten worse. Americans are reluctant to relinquish any control, particularly as they refine their truck routes to Iran and Syria. If the US continues to insist to the American people
that its presence in Iraq is the answer to defeating terrorism worldwide (and if the public continues to buy it) I may be writing this message for
years to come. But if priorities could shift for even a moment to Iraq and the Iraqi people, we would not be celebrating any more anniversaries of this war.
Had Iraq been the priority from the start, we wouldn't be involved in this war at all.
Iraq War Media Resources
The Iraq Journalism Project
An online University of Washington Communications Department project that address the war in Iraq from a variety of angles, such as women and ethnicity.
http://courses.washington.edu/com361/Iraq/
The Internet and The Iraq War
A Pew Internet and American Life Project that looks at how the Internet has influenced Americans' understanding of the Iraq War.
http://www.pewinternet.org/report_display.asp?r=87
The Pew Global Attitudes Project
A variety of polls and reports on international subjects, many with views of and in America as a result of war in Iraq.
The Unfinished War
CNN's special report includes a timeline and other interactive resources about Iraq.
http://edition.cnn.com/SPECIALS/2001/gulf.war/
Alternet's War on Iraq coverage
An archive of alternative-press stories about the war in Iraq, with links to various peace organizations.
http://www.alternet.org/waroniraq/
Newseum
An online exhibit of more than 200 front pages from newspapers covering events of import in the Iraq War.
http://www.newseum.org/frontpages/wariniraq.htm
Aljazeera.Net
An online English version of this Middle-East news phenom.
http://english.aljazeera.net/HomePage
Cyber Journalist's Iraq Coverage
This site includes a variety of resources, including links to blogs about Iraq.
http://www.cyberjournalist.net/great_iraq_conflict_coverage/
Fairness and Accuracy in Reporting
The main page to this national media watchdog group includes a link to all of its coverage of Iraq-including many links to the popular Counterspin program broadcast on NPR.
