[lbo-talk] Chalabi's got game

Michael Pollak mpollak at panix.com
Tue Apr 15 05:59:30 PDT 2008


[h/t to Juan Cole]


>From a blog entry by ace Iraq McClatchy reporter Hannah Allam:

http://washingtonbureau.typepad.com/cairo/2008/04/sadr-city-griev.html

<key excerpt>

Believe what you will about Chalabi being a has-been (or

worse); precious few other Iraqi politicians can sail into Sadr City

with foreigners in tow and receive ironclad guarantees of safety from

the feared Mahdi Army. The militiamen greeted him with embraces, just a

day after Sadr issued a statement that discouraged the targeting of

Iraqis unless they have helped the occupation.

You might wonder, as I do, how Chalabi, the onetime Pentagon darling

who fell out of American graces, the man who ushered U.S. forces into

Iraq, the secular intellectual with dubious associates around the

globe, is able to preserve such close ties to the Shiite Islamist,

anti-American Sadr movement. We might never know the full story.

Critics will say that Chalabi's trip to Sadr City today amounted to

grandstanding; supporters will counter that it's about time an Iraqi

official, any Iraqi official, dropped in to see firsthand the suffering

of Sadr City's embattled residents. Whatever the case, I was just

grateful to tag along and finally be able to soak up the dizzying

sights of Sadr's sprawling Baghdad stronghold without the usual

wrangling with local militia commanders or U.S. military embed

coordinators.

<excerpt from beginning>

But this time, the slain son was no ordinary militiaman. He was one of

the closest aides and friends of the rebel cleric Muqtada al Sadr.

Riyadh al Nouri, head of Sadr's office in Najaf, was gunned down by

unknown assailants as he made his way home from midday prayers Friday.

No group has claimed responsibility for the killing, a brazen strike at

Sadr's inner circle, though leaders of the movement blame the U.S.

military occupation for the violent landscape where bullets too often

settle political disputes.

I ended up sitting on the floor with Nouri's mother and her friends

because of Ahmad Chalabi, who had invited two Western reporters and an

Iraqi television crew to accompany him as he paid his respects at the

funeral in Sadr City. (Another funeral was going on down in Najaf,

where Nouri was killed.) When Chalabi and the cameras disappeared into

the men's tent, the rest of us -- a female American reporter for

another U.S. newspaper, my Iraqi colleague Sahar and me -- decided to

visit the women's area.

This was the first time in nearly two years that I've walked around in

Sadr City, and the first time I've ever visited without our company's

own drivers to watch our backs. A young plainclothes guard led us

through garbage-strewn alleyways to the home where the women had

gathered in solidarity with Nouri's mother.

During the pins-and-needles walk to the home, I scanned rooftops for

snipers and saw none. My eyes locked with those of a menacing-looking

young militiaman with a Sadr badge pinned to his shirt. He offered a

half-smile and said, "Welcome" in Arabic. Naked, filthy children peeked

out of their squalid homes. Little boys played soccer in the dirt. A

father held his daughter's tiny hand as they crossed the street and

stopped at an ice-cream stand. Life was going on as usual in Sadr City,

a place that manages to be simultaneously dismal and vibrant.

But with all the U.S. air strikes and clashes here in the past couple

of weeks, Sahar and I were keenly aware of the myriad dangers that

still lurk in the warrens of Sadr City. Walking alone in this volatile

territory left me feeling more exposed than perhaps at any time during

my five years of covering Iraq. Sahar whispered for us not to say a

word in English, but of course it was obvious we were outsiders. The

baby-faced guard who led us to the home said that we need not worry,

and it turned out that he was right.

<coda>

As is customary, we'd taken off our shoes at the door and had to fish

them from a jumble of women's sandals on our way out. As we exited,

Sahar noticed an Iraqi man staring at our American colleague, who had

some stray reddish-blond hair sticking out from under her headscarf.

Sahar heard him sputter, "An American, one with blue eyes, has the

nerve to show up here?" It was time to go.

We rejoined Chalabi's convoy without incident and thanked our sweet

young guard for his protection. We made a quick stop at a food

warehouse where Chalabi and the deputy trade minister inquired about

rations shipments, electricity and other sorely lacking basic services.

Sahar and I hung back to chat with a bystander, 21-year-old Ali

Mohamed.

We asked Ali what Sadr City residents wanted from the Iraqi government.

"Water, electricity, rations," came the quick reply. "Where is the

future? From Saddam's time to now, what future do we have?'

We asked Ali what the residents sought from Sadr himself.

"We want him to get rid of the occupation," Ali said. He added that he

hasn't yet fought alongside the Mahdi Army, but wouldn't hesitate to

take up arms if Sadr issued the call.

"Of course I would go," Ali said. "Who is defending Iraq except him?"

During the drive back to Chalabi's compound I busied myself with taking

photos from the tinted windows of our armored SUV. At one point, Sahar

nudged me.

"I don't want to frighten you," she said, "but I've counted seven IEDs

on this road so far. Look, you can even see the wires coming out."

<end excerpt>

http://washingtonbureau.typepad.com/cairo/2008/04/sadr-city-griev.html

Michael



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