As 48-Hour Deadline Ticks Down, Baghdad Loses Its Bravado

By Anthony Shadid | Washington Post Foreign Service | Wednesday, March 19,
2003; 3:33 PM

BAGHDAD, March 18 -- A cool, gentle breeze blew off the Tigris River,
drifting over the white-washed walls of the Hawar Art Gallery. With his
friends, Maher Samarai paused to appreciate the moment, then pondered
Baghdad on the eve of what looks like certain war.

As an Iraqi, the city is his capital. As a resident, it is his soul. And as
it stands on the verge of violence, Samarai spent long moments staring out
at the towering palm tree that stands over the gallery, its fluttering
fronds providing shade and the reassurance of something normal.

"For a week, I can't sleep. Really," Samarai finally said, methodically
thumbing his string of blue worry beads. "I worry about the bridges, the
homes, the beautiful buildings, our artistic scene that we built after 1991
that is going to be smashed. A lot of artists have left for cities outside
Baghdad, and there is no guarantee we will gather again."

His friends nodded in agreement, and savored the nostalgia.

"Our art is like a white dove, and the B-52s are about to come to make them
black," Samarai said. "I hate the color black."

Baghdad has become an anxious, unsettled city, and the Hawar Art Gallery --
its stucco walls, stone patio and gate painted in a Mediterranean blue --
was a small window on its dread. For some of the artists there, the city was
seized by fear as the passing hours of a 48-hour deadline ticked down,
eroding the calm and bravado that had provided solace for residents for
months. To others, Baghdad was frozen in time, overwhelmed by what is to
come, putting off ordinary tasks like planning exhibitions, repairing a
studio, buying supplies or contemplating a new course at the Academy of Fine
Arts across the street. Samarai, for one, lamented canceling his plans to
attend an art festival in Tunisia.

But Baghdad has become a city of lives interrupted. It is a city still
deeply scarred by the 1991 Gulf War, when a U.S.-led air campaign to drive
invading Iraqi troops from Kuwait returned Baghdad to the Third World. And
it is a city traumatized by 30 years of Baath Party rule.

Nevertheless, President Bush's promise to Iraq's people that their "day of
liberation is near" drew only smirks and disparaging insults from Samarai's
group of friends, as they sipped sweetened lemon tea. "They're going to burn
the forest to kill the fox. That's my idea," Samarai said.

Samarai and his friends quoted the words of Maj. Gen. Stanley Maude, the
British commander who entered Baghdad in 1917 to end Ottoman rule. The
phrase, famous among Iraqis, translates as "We came as liberators, not as
conquerors." Maude soon died of cholera and was buried in Baghdad. The
British, they noted, remained in Iraq and in control of its oil for decades.

"That's exactly what Bush said. Exactly the same sentence," Samarai said.
"It's a flashback to when Iraqis were still without shoes, without clothes,
and the oil went directly to other people's pockets. You can't trust the
Westerners."

Sitting around the gallery's patio, the more immediate worries of Samarai
and his friends revolved around Baghdad. To many Iraqis and other Arabs, the
capital is perhaps more an idea than a reality, with a past richer than its
present. The painters, sculptors and ceramicists at Hawar looked beyond the
city's concrete overpasses and martial boulevards, past the teeming, Shiite
Muslim slum that takes its name from the Iraqi leader, President Saddam
Hussein, and the urban sprawl that makes it a Middle Eastern Los Angeles.

Instead, they waxed longingly about its soul, of the medieval caliph Haroun
al-Rashid, of the poet Mutanabi, of the philosopher al-Hallaj. They talked
of its Sumerian and Babylonian past. And they indulged in "hanin" -- an
Arabic word that means longing and nostalgia -- recalling the artists and
singers that brought a renaissance in the 1960s and 1970s to a city that had
become a backwater.

To all of them, Baghdad remains an exception. It rivals Damascus and Cairo
as one of the Arab world's great capitals, they said, but is separated from
them by a desert. It was once the seat of the Arab world, but thrives from
the cultures of neighboring Iran and Turkey.

"The city is in my blood, the ruins of its palaces, the mosques and the
river," he said, over the soft strains of the call to prayer. "When I think
of Baghdad, just the shadow of Baghdad, I think of gold and turquoise tiles.
These two colors symbolize Baghdad."

Karim Khalil interrupted him. A sculptor born in Baghdad, he said the city
was its painters and singers in the 1960s. It was the Tigris River that
weaves through the city. It was the palm trees that lay like a blanket
across gardens and farms on its riverbanks.

"Baghdad is me," he concluded.

"Bush is not coming because he loves Baghdad," Khalil went on. "Americans
don't care about Baghdad because it is not their city. They don't care if
they destroy or demolish it. Baghdad is our city."

His friend, Salman Radi, joined the conversation. "We all expect war is
coming," he said.

Radi said he feared it would be like 1991, when bridges, buildings and, most
painfully, a civilian shelter were destroyed. He remembered the stench of
rotting bodies. "And now they come again."

Radi lit a cigarette. He had quit for two years, but started smoking again
three days ago.

"We don't know the truth, we don't know what will happen," he said, after
taking a long drag. "There's fear inside me, for a long time. What will
happen? All I can is that I don't know. Tragedies, I'm sure. But I don't
know."

That uncertainty pervades the city, as its streets began emptying and stores
shuttered today in anticipation of an attack.

Some of the artists groped for symbols of resilience, in a gesture it seemed
to reassure themselves. One spoke of the palm trees that remain a dominant
motif in Iraqi art. The desert winds bend them, push them to the ground, but
they never break. Another spoke of the Tigris as a measure of national
character. Whereas the Nile River provided life to Egypt with its floods, he
said, the surging Tigris wreaked destruction. Resisting its torrents made
Iraqis all that much stronger, giving life to well-deserved reputation for
toughness.

"It's like slavery," Samarai said. "We can't stand foreigners to run our
country. It is horrible for us. What makes me really nervous is that when I
was listening to Bush's speech, he talked and I couldn't smell any truth."

A friend, a woman artist sitting nearby, got up to leave the gallery. She
discreetly set down a clip for an AK-47 rifle on the table in front of him.
She left without saying a word.

"I borrowed the gun from a friend of mine," he said, in answer to his
friends' stares. "I worry about thieves. I just bought a new car and a new
computer and they're expensive. If I have to fight for my house, I will."

At those words, Saad Hadi, an art critic and journalist sitting next to him,
shook his head.

"So many crises have visited Baghdad, and we have faced them," he said. "The
soul of Baghdad will remain."

"Baghdad is not a real city. It may be the only city that stands between
reality and imagination. Paris and London, they are real cities, but when
you mention Baghdad what comes to mind are the legends. Perhaps they'll add
something new to the legend of Baghdad."

� 2003 The Washington Post Company
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A47329-2003Mar18.html


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