Iraq Journal, Part IV

By Jay Nordlinger
Monday, October 13, 2008

In the evening, in the American embassy — one of Saddam Hussein’s former palaces — we meet with Maj. Gen. Qassim Atta al-Moussawi, whose bio reads as follows:

“A former Baathist, MG Qassim served in Saddam’s military and was in charge of the Al-Bakr publication house for the Army. More recently, he served as the PAO for the Joint Headquarters and Spokesman for the Commander in Chief of the Iraqi Armed Forces. In February 2007 Qassim assumed the role [of] Spokesman for the Baghdad Security Plan / Operation Fardh al-Qanoon ([a]n Arabic phrase which translates to ‘Impose the Law’). MNF-I [the coalition] has worked successfully with Qassim since the inception of OFAQ.”

And if you’d like more initials, just let me know.

The bio uses the name “Qassim” throughout, but I’m told that the general’s last name is Atta — yeah, I know: Atta. (And how about Moussawi, a name that in France is transliterated Moussaoui?) In any case, he’s a neatly groomed man, and he speaks with precision. One can tell, even through a translator.

I ask him about Baghdad — the importance of it, in the overall scheme. He says, “Baghdad is the heart of Iraq. And if the heart is well, so is the rest of the body.”

Okay, another question: Do Iraqis resent or welcome the American presence? Atta says that Iraqis in general hate occupation, and always have — this goes back to 1914 and the British. But Iraqis are of two minds: They want to be helped and protected; at the same time, they want foreigners out of their country.

A little ticklish, isn’t it?

Atta mentions the 700 border forts that Iraqi officials, and their Western allies, want around Iraq — actually, the exact number is 721. We are almost halfway there, with about 350.

The old army, he says, was “an instrument of aggression against other countries” — an interesting characterization, I believe. And spot-on. The new army is considerably different.

I wonder this: Could Saddam have fallen without outside help, without our invasion/liberation/toppling? Atta says no. The sanctions weakened him, but he could not have been gotten rid of without foreigners. And “Iraqis are grateful.”

Iran, he says, has “an interest in destabilizing Iraq” — that’s for sure. “We have a long border with them,” he says, “and they have been our neighbor for a long time. We cannot get another one.” “Would you like to?” one of my colleagues asks, with a smile. Atta, also smiling, says yes, he would.

He says that Baghdad’s goal, and Iraq’s goal, is “normalcy” — there’s that word again. “Normalcy” is the great dream of the Iraqi people. And normalcy is setting in: Families are returning to Baghdad, says Atta, and, at the recently celebrated Eid, a million people came to the main park. Last year, it was half that number.

And he tells us an interesting tale: A suicide bomber went to blow up a mosque, where thousands were at prayer. He — or she? I do not quite catch it — got 80 meters from the mosque. And two security men — part of the new Iraq — jumped on him. They both died, as the suicider detonated. But they saved countless lives.

For those who wish to know — who keep this kind of score — this was a Shiite mosque, and those who jumped on the suicider, and saved the day, were one Shiite and one Sunni. Heroes of the first degree.

As we part, Atta says to us, “Come again next year, but as tourists. You will be able to tour Baghdad to your heart’s content.” Wouldn’t that be something?

Next morning, we chopper to Baghdad’s Rashid District, where we will have a walking tour — specifically of the Doura market, which was dead and deadly until recently. Now it is something like a showcase. On our way there, Gen. Robin Swan makes a few remarks. He says that Eid went very, very well — coming as a relief, and proof of the progress we’ve made. And he points out — literally points out, with his finger — a number of impressive projects: construction and the like.

Few in America know about these projects, and these successes, as near as I can tell.

Swan talks about the corridor between Baghdad Airport and downtown. “First impressions are lasting impressions,” he says, and it’s important to get this corridor right. Also, according to him, the Baghdad airport is a very good one.

Looking down from the chopper, he takes note of various forms of activity and comments, “Last year, we didn’t see this.” He seems genuinely excited — heartened — by what he sees on the ground.

Once we land, I meet several Americans, soldiers and civilians. Among them is Walter Koenig, who works with a PRT, or Provincial Reconstruction Team. He says, “I consider myself a State Department reservist.” And this is his story, in brief: He worked in the Middle East as a businessman for several years. He is now the CEO of a manufacturing company, in Florida. He took a leave of absence from his company to come do this. He talked with his board and his family — not necessarily in that order.

Why did he do it? Why did he leave his comforts and responsibilities to come do this? He says, “I wanted to serve my country.” “So, you’re an idealist?” I say. “Yes,” he acknowledges. In addition, “It sort of makes up for my not having been in the military.” He further says, “It’s exciting to see things develop here” — to see Iraqi communities come back to life. To see people get a second chance.

We get to the Doura market, and I see a shop sign: “Life Is Good.” (The words are in English, I should say.) That may be an exaggeration, but life in Doura is undoubtedly better than it was. Capt. Daryl Carter, who leads us, says, “This used to be a ghost town.” But now people young and old, male and female, are about. The soldiers exchange friendly greetings with them. Americans know kids’ names, families’ stories. There is easy interaction, including joshing.

I think — not for the first time on this trip — about a German I know. He told me not long ago that his grandfather was a POW of the Americans, and always remembered the Americans fondly: because of their humanity. But this, said my friend, is not happening in Iraq — at least as far as he knows. What has happened to the American spirit and the American heart? No wonder the world has turned against America.

It is complete BS, of course. Bonds have formed between Americans and Iraqis, you can be sure of that. I see it with my own eyes. But this much is true: Such stories, of bonding and gratitude and mutual warm feelings, are little publicized. Why is this? Because the media and others are hostile, against the war? Or because the U.S. military and government have done a poor job with PR?

One middle-aged Iraqi man, a lawyer, tells Captain Carter he wants a “microgrant” — many people want such grants; and they get them. We ask a group of men, “Do you have any fear in this neighborhood? Any fear of violence?” They say no. But they also say — many Iraqis say — that they fear what will happen should Americans leave.

We talk to the owner of a bridal shop. “How’s business?” “Good, thank God.” The reason it’s good is that people feel more secure, and when they feel secure, they’re more apt to marry. His top bridal gown rents for $60 a day.

Banks are coming back. Other businesses are coming back, too. Captain Carter says he has talked to Christian shopkeepers, to convince them that they can reopen. This is the role of the U.S. military? To coax shopkeepers back to their stores? I think — once more — of the scope of what we’re doing: It is, indeed, Erect-a-Nation.

We meet a young man and ask, as we commonly do, “What would happen if the Americans left? Would things be all right?” He replies, “Chaos” — which makes me shudder a little.

I walk for a while with General Swan through a stretch of market. He notes a key distinction between now and before — between the post-surge Iraq and the pre-surge Iraq. He says that terrorists can still perform spectacular bombings — for sure. The thing is, sectarian violence does not follow those bombings. Life goes on. And the bombers are condemned.

Earlier I asked, “Why are these terrorists so hard to beat? Why can’t we subdue them, after all these years?” Swan chooses to answer this way. Pointing to a man in the market, he says, “Is he AQI [Al Qaeda in Iraq]?” How about this one, how about that one? How can you tell? You cannot — that’s why it’s so hard. The terrorists simply melt into the population.

I talk to a young American soldier, who is due to go home soon. I ask how his stint has been. He says, “Pretty boring.” I say, “Boring is good, right?” He smiles yes. I ask how Iraqis receive him and his fellow soldiers. He says it depends. On what? Age, for one thing — there’s a difference between young and old. What’s the difference? The young tend to be more hostile; the old are more welcoming and appreciative.

As we chopper back, General Swan points below and says, “Date farms are coming back. You can see that the trees are trimmed.” This was not the case before. And traffic is increasing — another sign of revitalization. Swan points to an amusement park, now open. “I really wanted to get that park open: It’s a return-to-normalcy issue.” There are many return-to-normalcy issues.

And isn’t it amazing that our military is working to get people to reopen their amusement parks? Is that what the boys went to West Point for? This is a full-service military, to put it mildly.

The general also points to a public pool, in Sadr City. Young people are swimming in it — another new, extremely welcome sight.

I’d like to mention this: When we toured through Doura, we wore our protective gear — our PPE. Vest and helmet. The military wanted it that way. And you might say, “If things are so great — if things are hunky-dory — why’d you have to go around in armor? Huh, huh?” The answer is: Things are not hunky-dory — not yet. But things are significantly better.

Another answer is: It takes only a few terrorists to make things blow up. What did the old left-wing bumper sticker say? “One nuclear bomb can ruin your whole day.” And one terrorist can ruin your whole day, too. One Qaedist rolls a grenade in a marketplace full of thousands, and the folks back home say, “See? They don’t want us there.”

Like hell.

This may amuse you. Some people who work here remark that American visitors tour a market like Doura — and marvel that the place looks so terrible. They’re simply not used to conditions a) in the Arab world and b) in the Third World. If they went to Egypt or Jordan or anywhere else, they’d say, “Oh, sorry: This is normal.”

As you know, the Tigris and Euphrates rivers run through Baghdad — cradle of civilization and all that. These rivers are now very green — like pea soup — and none too pretty. You wouldn’t rush in for a swim. Maybe later, once the environmental revolution comes to Iraq. What a luxury that would be.

I have mentioned before the great number of nationalities here, helping the Iraqis, belonging to the coalition. I meet people from big countries, such as Britain, Italy, and Australia; and people from small countries, some of them really small countries — such as Tonga. And I hear many languages being spoken. Two languages I do not hear: French and German. I do not encounter French people or German people.

And I wonder this: If French and German folks knew what the world was engaged in here, in behalf of the Iraqis, and in behalf of broader security, would they be ashamed, at least slightly, at the nonparticipation of their governments?

Thought I’d throw at you some language notes — because no Impromptus can be complete without language notes, even ones from Iraq. Military people say “to include” — for “including.” An officer might say, “There are people of many nations here, to include Danes and Salvadorans.” “My wife sent me to the store for a lot of things, to include soap and olives.”

I have noticed this peculiar usage for a long time — and I can date it: the Iran-contra hearings. Oliver North said “to include,” and I thought it was unique to him. Then, as years went on, I noticed that other military people said the same thing. An interesting habit.

“Carabinieri”: The Americans here tend to say “carabineri” — the “nieri” doesn’t come through. The accepted American pronunciation seems to be “carabineri.” But one American who does not say that — but “carabinieri” — is . . . General Milano. Certo!

I hear the word “deconflicted” — taken out of conflict, I suppose.

Finally, most Americans here say “Eye-rack.” That is a pronunciation much mocked. I know a columnist who routinely, when he wishes to deride George Bush et al., writes “Eye-rack,” just like that. But guess what? The Americans here who say “Eye-rack” know a hell of a lot more about the country than do those who make fun of them.

Girls in the military are supposed to be . . . um, not very girl-like. But there are some very, very pretty girls in the U.S. military. And I am more convinced than ever that women in the military is generally a mistake. Why? Well, a pretty one enters the scene and — well, the atmosphere is changed, is all I’m saying. Eyes turn, attention drifts. Count me a Neanderthal — or a realist.

I’m sorry to comment quickly and blithely on a subject that whole books have been devoted to, and rightly so, but we’re just breezin’ through, Impromptus-style.

Ryan Crocker is U.S. ambassador to Iraq — and we meet him in the embassy-palace. Is he any relation to Chester Crocker, of 1980s South Africa policy fame? I don’t ask. Ryan Crocker has long experience in the Middle East, having been ambassador in Lebanon, Kuwait, and Syria. Those were only three of his jobs. He has also served in Iran, Qatar, and Egypt, and from 2004 to 2007 was ambassador in Pakistan.

National Review fans may wish to know that he looks rather like Dusty Rhodes, our chairman and CEO. He is thin, fair, neat, patrician (though I like to think of Dusty as a scrappy Welsh kid on the mean streets of New York). And Crocker’s experience in the Middle East is reflected in the way he says “al-Qaeda” — there is a slight Arabic throat thing. He does not pronounce the name in full Arabic fashion, but does not pronounce it in English fashion, either: He’s in between.

He says many interesting things, one of which is, yes, we are at war (which is sometimes in doubt). We’re at war in Iraq — against terrorists. Of course, we are engaged in many other activities as well.

Someone asks whether we, the U.S., “prodded” the Iraqi government on this or that. Crocker answers, oh, yes: “Prodding is us.”

And he has this to say about Iraqi Shiites: “They used to see militias as their protectors, and now they don’t have to. As security has improved, Shiite Iraqis are more Arab and less specifically Shiite, if you will. Some people say, ignorantly, that Iraqi Shiites are basically Iranians — they are certainly not.” How about Prime Minister Maliki? He is sometimes portrayed as an Iranian ally, if not a stooge. Absolutely not, says Crocker: He is a proud Arab nationalist. (Recall that Iranians are Persians.)

It is important for all Iraqis to work together, or at least tolerate one another. Sounds platitudinous, but it’s no less true for that. Says Crocker, “A dictatorship of the majority is highly dangerous to democracy, and it is highly dangerous here.”

Al-Qaeda is a terrorist group, of course — but they are also a criminal group, similar to the mafia in some ways (extortion, other intimidation, etc.). They are “Terror, Inc.,” says Crocker, “as much criminal as ideological.”

Iraqis have come a long way in the last year, everyone agrees. And Crocker puts it memorably: “You could say that, in 2003, we liberated their country. And in 2008, in a way, they liberated their own country.”

A lot of people in America say that “al-Qaeda is resurgent” — you hear that from politicians on the stump, for example. Last spring, I had an opportunity to ask President Karzai about this, at a conference in Egypt. He said it was bunk. And Ambassador Crocker says the same thing.

“They are definitely not resurgent.” But “they are dedicated,” and “they won’t change” — they will not forswear violence. “They have to be hunted down, and they are — they’re getting hammered. They are down to using female suicide bombers now. They started with truck bombs, and they blew up bridges, mosques, and so on. And we’ve kept at ’em.”

A word on the matter of withdrawal — U.S. withdrawal: “If you say that you’ll leave without preconditions, you’ve told your enemy, who will simply wait until you go, and you’ve also told your friends, who have not very much incentive to deal with you anymore.”

Crocker has this to say about fighting between Sunnis and Shiites: “In 2006 and ’07, we saw terrible communal violence — which is extremely rare in modern Iraqi history. That is the exception, not the rule.”

And before we leave the room, I ask a standard journalistic question: “Is there anything else you’d like to say? Is there anything you wish people could know?” He says yes, actually: and gives what, to me, is a very moving and impassioned statement — an impassioned statement from an understated, careful, and, from what I can tell, cool man:

“Iraq is really, really important. How things go here will transform the region and America’s role in the region, one way or the other. If Iraq is successful in establishing itself as a democracy, where the rule of law is paramount, that will be something remarkable for the region.” America will be judged, as well as Iraq: “Ultimately, how we leave and what we leave behind will be more important than how we got here.”

Crocker continues, “People are tired of Iraq. They say, ‘Let’s get it over and done with. We don’t want to watch the Iraq movie anymore.’ But the Iraq movie will go on for many more reels, with or without us. And it will have a big effect on us, whether we like it or not.”