Freeze

As we make our way through Baghdad’s surprisingly cold winter, everyone is talking about the freeze. This freeze has nothing to do with temperature; yesterday, Shiite cleric Muqtada al-Sadr (MAS) announced that he is extending the Mahdi Army’s cease fire – or freeze – for an additional six months. The current freeze, which dates from the end of last August, was set to expire at the end of this month. While most sources hinted that he would extend the freeze, MAS waited until nearly the end of the month before making his announcement from the Iranian Holy city of Qom where here is continuing religious studies. Two weeks ago, London-based Arabic language newspaper Dar al-Hayat reported that the next step for the Sadrist movement is to evolve into a civilian organization that abides by the law.

A little background: Sadr heads the Office of the Martyr Sadr (OMS), a political-religious organization named in honor of Sadr’s father who was murdered under Saddam Hussein’s regime. OMS forms the core of the Sadrist movement or Sadr Trend as it’s sometimes called. The primary paramilitary force of OMS is Jaysh al-Mahdi (JAM) (or in English, the Mahdi Army) which formed in post-invasion Sadr City, a Shi’a slum of northeast Baghdad. While OMS made a name for itself providing basic services in Sadr City, JAM filled the security vacuum with the dissolution of the Iraqi army and police forces.

JAM has clashed with Coalition Forces (CF) on many occasions, the most serious being a series of uprisings which began in the spring of 2004 and ended in June with heavy losses. In August of last year, JAM fought against a rival Shi’a militia in the holy city of Karbala resulting in over fifty dead, many of them religious pilgrims visiting the city. Rising backlash from fellow Shi’as over the mounting death toll and sectarian violence played a role in Sadr’s decision to call a six month cease fire in which JAM would not take up arms against either other Shi’a groups or the Coalition. Although previous cease fires largely were ignored in the past, this one held and played an important part in ending the cycle of violence in Baghdad and southern, Shi’a dominated, Iraq. Thus, extending the freeze for another six months is viewed by many as paramount to maintaining the continued security.

Other important factors in maintaining security in Baghdad – and Iraq – include last year’s troop “surge” of five additional brigade combat teams, and the rise of Iraqi concerned local citizens (CLCs) groups, both Sunni and Shia, on an American banked payroll. The CLCs now call themselves “Sons of Iraq” (SOIs) and have taken the fight to Al Qaeda in Iraq (AQI). Recently captured documents from AQI leaders, which were released to the press, show that AQI now considers the SOIs their number one enemy.

Although MAS is the titular champion of the Shi’a movement in Iraq and JAM, not all have chosen to follow his order: on 19 February, Shiite insurgents launched rockets at Victory Base Complex and this morning a similar attack occurred here in the International Zone. Not everyone, it would seem, is happy with the decision to extend the cease fire…

Amy

Much has happened since the last round of Enrique Iglesias and William Wallace pictures were swapped with Neil, our Scottish co-worker. While I thought NASCAR might be a new (and seminally American) theme to exploit against Neil, another idea evolved spontaneously: pictures of troubled English chanteuse Amy Winehouse. Her CD, which recently won five Grammy Awards, arrived with the same shipment that my friend in New York sent. I asked Neil what he thought of her. He said she looked ghastly in real life, unlike the highly engineered picture of her on the CD cover. Poking around the Internet did turn up some gems which I immediately began printing and placing around Neil's desk.

One of the more recent photos of Amy, now a blonde, I placed on Neil's phone mouth piece while he was away from his desk. He came back and his phone rang. I looked over my shoulder and heard him talking with an Iraqi government official. As he spoke, I saw him pull the phone receiver away from his mouth and stare in horror as he realized he had been intimate with Amy. I could hardly contain myself.

Neil's revenge was equally creative. He found some really bad pictures of her, printed them and placed them in a variety of places to include my desk drawers, underneath my mouse pad, and several creatively placed photos in my notebook which I kept discovering during meetings.

Neil left a few days ago on his R&R trip which will coincide with the birth of his first child. We wish him well! Amy misses him...

Updated on 20 Feb: We received word today that Neil's wife gave birth to a bouncing baby girl. Congrats!

Dust

Today we had our first really dusty day since my arrival last November. Although the weather forecast had warned about the possibility of "blowing dust" it didn't hit me until I left my trailer early this morning. Winter days here usually have been characterized by clear or somewhat cloudy skies and cold temperatures. This has been one of the coldest winters in Baghdad in recent memory; it even snowed lightly one morning last month.

Not so this morning; when I left the trailer the sky was uniformly light brown and it just got progressively worse. By late afternoon the sky was positively dark. I took the picture accompanying this entry just before 5:30 PM today. When I left the office around 10:00 PM everything looked foggy in the lamp lights around the embassy compound -- only the fog was just more dust. During the short walk back to my trailer, my eyes were irritated.

Yet this wasn't the typically desert Haboob or Sirocco, both of which feature high winds. This dust just slowly settled in over Baghdad and grew in density. In fact, I don't recall much of a breeze at all.

Scotland's Revenge

A while back, I wrote of office shenanigans between my friend Alan, our Scottish co-worker Neil, and myself. Not long after our japes, Neil embarked on a Scottish Information Operations campaign against us. I came back to my desk and found some creative artwork placed by Neil after I had left for the night. The major themes were the Scottish flag, William Wallace (the Scottish hero portrayed by Mel Gibson in the movie “Braveheart”), and a Scottish comedian. Neil had used Microsoft PowerPoint (the scion of staff officers everywhere) to create some funny stuff. But it was his placement of the propaganda that was most creative: He wrapped my mouse pad, taped stuff to my desk, and, as I found out later in the day, posted a picture of Mel Gibson on the receiver of my phone. Alan’s desk also was appropriately peppered with the stuff. The next month, Alan turned his wall calendar to February and there was more Scottish material. We learned, for example, that "Oi!" means "Hey" and "bassa" means "bastard."

Not wanting to waste good talent, Alan and I placed some of Neil’s work on the plywood walls that surround our office space. A few days later, a British colonel, who works in an adjoining office, remarked, “What is with all this Scottish propaganda?” I explained to him our friendly back-and-forth between Neil and Alan and myself regarding the US and Britain. He found that suitably amusing and, being a Scotsman himself, said he may have to assist Neil. He then pointed out on the wall where Alan and I had placed a copy of the Grand Union Flag, first raised by General George Washington on January 1, 1776. The British colonel said he had never seen the flag, which features the English Union Flag in the canton bordered by thirteen red and white stripes.

Alan and I had to think about how best to retaliate. The answer came a few days later when I received a package of CDs from a friend who works in the music business in New York. She had included the latest Enrique Iglesias CD which featured a small fold out poster of him. We folded it so that it showed just his face and placed it surreptitiously along the wall of Neil’s office area. Neil has great concentration and it took the better part of the afternoon before he found it. What followed was a very creative back and forth of Enrique’s picture. One day he was at Neil’s desk, the other on Alan’s, the next hidden under papers on Neil’s desk, and the next, taped to the inside of my notebook.

I’ve got figure out how to incorporate NASCAR into the next set of placements...

War and Peace

Working at a computer all day let’s one get reacquainted with one’s music collection; in my case, over 45 gigabytes worth (my entire CD collection of over a thousands discs plus numerous purchases on iTunes). One album, which was purchased on iTunes, that I had not really listened to critically was Ryuichi Sakamoto’s recent release, Chasm. Sakamoto’s career as a composer spans over thirty years and includes music of all types, classical, jazz, fusion, electronica, minimalism, and three major movie soundtracks (Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence, The Last Emperor, and Little Buddha). Chasm spans a lot styles but centers on electronic minimalism. One tune in particular, “War and Peace,” caught my attention, given my current location. So much so, that I wrote down the lyrics:

War and Peace (Ryuichi Sakamoto)

Is war as old as gravity?
If I love peace do I need to love trees?
Are there animals that like peace and animals that like war?
Is peace quiet?

Is making war an instinct we inherited from our hunting or farming ancestors?
Were farmers the first warriors?
Do we love without thinking?
Do we do the right thing without thinking?

When children fight with their brothers and sisters are they learning how to make war?
How do we test the limits of our bodies without war?
Why do they compare war to a man and peace to a woman?
Peace is unpredictable

Why is war so exciting?
War is the best game and the worst life.
Is peace the deadliest work?
Is peace a time of tension?

What are the different kinds of victory?
In a war? In a race?
Is despair a solution?
Why is it dangerous to say, “Never forget”?

---

The tune features a repeating electronic motif on top of which various voices, drawn from a diverse set of nationalities, speak the lyrics. Melodically, it’s not very interesting but the tune comes together in a whole much bigger than its parts. I’m sorry to say I’m not smart enough to provide answers to any of the questions raised but it’s something to think about.

Angelina

So Angelina Jolie made a surprise visit to Iraq today. And no, I didn’t see her. In fact, I didn’t know she was here until I saw it on the TV in the gym this afternoon while running on a treadmill. The caption of her video read, “Jolie in Iraq.” I thought to myself, “Hey that looks like the Embassy.” And sure enough the news piece showed her walking into the main entrance to the Embassy.

Ms. Jolie was acting in her capacity as Goodwill Ambassador for the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees and came to Baghdad to raise awareness on the plight of almost 6.4 million Iraqi refugees who have been displaced as a result of the fighting here. Approximately 2 million fled to neighboring countries, mostly Syria and Jordan and another 2.2 million are internally displaced inside Iraq.

Recalling earlier in the day, I walked back from lunch quite near that area and saw a table in the hallway with food and snacks and bottled water. A female Air Force tech sergeant was standing nearby and peeking down the hall. Since there are often distinguished visitors in the Embassy, I didn’t think much of it. Now, of course, I realize I was walking by the meeting with Ms. Jolie.

One of my co-workers, who is involved in security matters, was lucky enough to get his picture with Ms. Jolie. I asked him for a copy to put on this blog but he demurred claiming that showing off like that would only make other guys mad that they didn’t get their photo with her. I suspect it has more to do with the fact he describes the photo as a fat guy with glasses standing next to a pretty lady. Some guys have all the luck.

Small World

This afternoon I went to the Palace/Embassy Barber shop, where one can get a decent haircut for just US$3. As I sat down in the waiting area, a young sergeant who was getting his hair cut suddenly exclaimed, "Sir, I've been reading your blog!"

"Really?" I could lamely say in amazement. "Yes," he said, "I recognize you from your picture. It's the only place where I've been able to figure out what's been going on. You're a good writer."

I thanked him and he went on to explain he had searched on Google for information regarding his deployment here and this blog had shown up in the results. It was my impression about seven people were reading this -- all of whom are related to me. I've got to start coming up with better material.

Fobbert 01

So I've been playing with a cool application that came with my MacBook called Comic Life but, not being particularly creative, had nothing to write about until I read a recent Dilbert comic in the Stars & Stripes. Somehow, I convinced some of my co-workers to re-ennact the comic. I'm hoping Scott Adams, Dilbert's creater doesn't sue me.

Expectations

Having been in Iraq for three months, I’ve seen how various people who dwell in the International Zone adapt to their surroundings. There is a unique mix of military, Department of State, civilian contractors, third country nationals, and Iraqis. Although very cosmopolitan, the atmosphere is one of concentrated purpose. Not exactly mirthful but it is technically a combat zone. The expectations weren’t always so. A recent article published in the Washington Post, laments that the Green Zone – the more popular name for the International Zone – is really more a Gray Zone at least as far as its inhabitants are concerned. The article concerns a legislative advisor to Ambassador Crocker who pines for the more optimistic days, just after the US-led invasion, when many neo-con civilian staffers arrived at what would become the International Zone in the military’s wake with upbeat ideas of building Iraq back up in a matter of months. Iraq was a place to transfer their “ideals to a grateful nation fight terrorism and have an exciting time,” so says the article. The by-line in the email sent to me with the article’s web address said, “This is a first class job of sniveling.”

(One book in particular, Rajiv Chandrasekaran’s Imperial Life in the Emerald City, captures those halcyon days which, with the benefit of hindsight, now appear dangerously misinformed and ineptly managed by the then Coalition Provisional Authority (CPA). In fact, one could say the series of bad decisions and faulty assumptions of the CPA is the reason I’m here in Baghdad typing this blog entry.)

The nature of expectations showcases the different backgrounds of the people who find themselves here. For those of us in the military, life in the IZ is pretty good: we are not living in tents, we have plenty of security, and have access to showers and cooked food every day. The DFAC, as I have already written about, is a logistical miracle, serving a variety of good food daily and consistently on time.

Of course, we are subject to the occasional mortar or rocket attack from disgruntled Shi’a elements in Baghdad. Thus, these same living conditions are classified as an extreme hardship tour for the Department of State civilians. They get to live in trailers without roommates, get to go home every 90 days for two weeks, and get Fridays and Saturdays (plus US holidays) off. All this and they tend to look rather sullen when I pass them in the hall ways of the Embassy.

Nevertheless, the laments written about in the article belie different institutional approaches to Iraq. Just after the invasion, the non-Department of State neo-con civilian staffers who arrived to “fix” post war Iraq were optimistic for exactly the wrong reasons; they felt their own views and values were shared with the recently liberated Iraqi population.

If you are in the military and deploying to a combat zone, optimism is not one of the dominant emotions; those of us in uniform are more centered on determined pragmatism and getting the job done. If you end up with a roof over your head and hot meals then that’s a bonus.

If you are in the State Department, Iraq is either the biggest challenge of your career or something dreadful to be avoided at all costs.

And if you are an Iraqi, getting a job in the Embassy compound – even as a custodian – is a lot better than most jobs in the red zone. In fact, they are the ones smiling most of the time.
Collectively, we need to ensure Iraqis outside the compound have something to smile about too.