We were in the Al-Amariya bomb shelter, listening to the guide’s report that 400 women and children were incinerated here when U.S. “smart bombs” found their way into the structure. The men and boys had stayed home to prevent looting of their houses. I was standing next to Ahmed, the friendly, ever cheerful professor of veterinary science at Baghdad University, who led us from one site and meeting to the next. And I asked him whether it was only a bomb shelter (because it looked to some in our group like a communications center, and perhaps at one time had been one). He became agitated and his face took on a grim expression. He told me that relatives of his had died in the shelter. As sympathetically as I could, I said that our government had admitted it was a mistake. I had difficulty believing they would deliberately bomb an installation they knew to be a bomb shelter. “Why not?” he said. “Your government deliberately bombed and destroyed the bridge over the Tigris River at a time they knew people and vehicles would be crossing it.”
As our visit to the shelter was ending, a congenial young reporter from Austrian Radio wanted to interview me. He asked me to comment on the fear of many Austrians—that if Saddam Hussein were not deposed he could become another Hitler. Saddam has the psychological capability to emulate Hitler, I said. But he lacks not only the geopolitical capability, given the fractious Middle East, but also the economic and military capability, which was lost in the Gulf War and the resulting sanctions and controls.
During the first day of the conference, I had lunch beside the Tigris, with several professors of veterinary medicine. Two splendid Arabian horses were being saddled up in a nearby pasture, and behind them in the distance were the twin stacks of the city’s electric power plant. I asked what would happen if the plant were destroyed—as it surely would be—when the bombs started falling again. They said it would be like 1991: For weeks if not months, residents would have to use candles, do without refrigeration and flush toilets, and get their water from the polluted river.
During a trip to ancient Babylon the next day, a professor of architecture said that all Arabs share the dream of an Arab nation that includes all the Arab states, and that Saddam Hussein is the only leader still alive who genuinely represents that dream. I said it seemed to me an unrealistic goal—how could those independent states ever agree on a leader or a central government? He replied that it need not be a nation, but perhaps something like the European Union. If the Europeans can have such a union, why not the Arabs?
On our last day in Iraq, six of us visited the Um-Al-Maarak (“Mother of All Battles”) mosque in the outskirts of Baghdad. It is a gleaming gem in blue and white, surrounded by inviting pools and walkways. It was built by Saddam Hussein, and is the model for an enormous mosque under construction, to be called the Saddam Mosque. It is intended to be the largest in the world. We were told that its grounds form a map of all the Arab countries from Morocco to Saudi Arabia, visible from above.
I thought that finally I understood the “problem of Iraq.” History is repeating itself, but on a much larger scale. At the end of World War I, the Ottoman Turks were driven out of the Middle East by tribes of the Arabian peninsula assisted by British soldiers, one of whom was Colonel T. E. Lawrence (“Lawrence of Arabia”), who supported a “pan-Arabic” union of the tribes. When Lawrence asked his superiors to supply the Arabs with cannons for use against the Turks, his request was rejected for fear that with such armaments the Arabs could become too powerful to manipulate. Today, the United States and various other western countries wish to unseat Saddam Hussein because they fear that he or some leader inspired by his example will one day establish a union of Arab states that will control all the resources of member states, especially the oil, and thus become a powerful economic competitor to the western nations and their various unions and alliances.
A more recent history seems to be repeating itself, too. To justify the Vietnam war, our government demonized Ho Chi Minh, leader of the movement to unify Vietnam. The U.S. argued that the result of inaction would be the domino-like collapse of the countries of Southeast Asia, and maybe even a Chinese invasion of our country (by sea, in their navy of what were then mostly junks?). Today, our government demonizes Saddam Hussein, and insists that he must be removed to protect us from anthrax and nerve gas (to be delivered in his 300 km-range rockets?).
It was shocking to learn that Eisenhower, perhaps our most honest president, had said that the Vietnam war was really about the “tin, tungsten, and rubber” of Southeast Asia. Today we are more cynical. We’re not surprised when our commentators generally agree that a principal aim is to insure that the vast oil reserves of Iraq remain available at acceptable prices. That doesn’t mean we have to assent. A common theme of the anti-Vietnam-war movement was that a Pax Americana—the U.S. as policeman of the world—was neither acceptable nor possible, and most Americans agreed. Today, our government maintains that a Pax Americana is both viable and right—whether the United Nations concurs or not. An alarming number of our fellow citizens seem to agree.—Wade Savage