Baghdad was bursting with anti-American feeling Saturday as residents
saw their city being stripped by its own citizens while U.S. forces
stood by, rarely intervening and in some cases even motioning
treasure-laden men through checkpoints.
Some still agreed with the United States' assessment of itself as a
liberator. In the middle-class Zayuna neighborhood, friendly people
offered American Marines baths, bread and buoyant greetings — and
asked for both autographs and help against looters.
But for other Iraqis, in dozens of interviews conducted across
Baghdad, the assessment was drastically different: America as conqueror.
"The coalition forces are responsible. Where is the law?"
said Safa Hussein Qasim, 44, a jeweler. "This is the promise of the
United States to Iraq? This is democracy in Baghdad?"
To walk the streets Saturday was to wade through a crazy-quilt blend
of disarray and sadness, rage and jubilation and self-hatred. Though
available booty was running low, looting continued apace, as did citizen
resistance to it. One man carried a purloined tuba up the street.
Baghdadis fretted and argued: What would become of their country?
"Saddam Hussein's greatest crime is that he brought the American
army to Iraq," said Gailan Ramiz, 62, helping a mob that was trying
to tear down yet another Saddam statue at Shorji market, Baghdad's
biggest.
It is stories like Hassan Shrawa's that are making them turn their
backs on the uniformed Americans who swept in days ago.
Shrawa, 30, an engineer from Baghdad's Saddam City section, said he
and his neighbors captured a Syrian mercenary and turned him over to
U.S. troops Friday. As Shrawa tells it, the commander flatly refused to
take custody of the man.
"What happens in the future?" Shrawa mused.
U.S. forces say they are doing the best they can under chaotic
conditions — chaos, many Iraqis point out, that the United States
itself created. Few praised Saddam. But at least, they said, he offered
stability.
Baghdad lacks that right now. Water, electricity and gasoline are
pipe dreams, and food is becoming almost as scarce.
Impromptu commerce is springing up on the sidewalks. One man made
money stitching moccasins back together. At a nearby stall, another man
dished out bowls of rice and beans from two steaming cauldrons.
On the streets of Zayuna, curious children milled around Saturday,
trying out English phrases and asking for Marines' addresses. One
presented Sgt. Paul Coughlin of Boston with a red flower that he nestled
in his grenade pouch; another played marbles with medic Brent Cook, 23,
of Houston.
Elsewhere, the Marines received less enthusiasm. In front of the
Palestine Hotel, an area thick with U.S. Marines, several dozen Iraqis
demanded a new government — now. "We want peace," they
chanted in English as Marines looked on from fighting vehicles.
Brig. Gen. Vincent Brooks, at U.S. Central Command, says reports of
looting in Iraq are overblown — that many parts of the country are
peaceful, and lawlessness "is already tapering off
significantly."
U.S. officials insist the restoration of law and order will become a
higher priority. The State Department said Friday it was sending 26
police and judicial officers to Iraq, the first component of a team that
will eventually number about 1,200. And on Saturday, the U.S. military
and the Iraqi police said they've agreed to joint patrols to restore
order — "sooner rather than later," one Marine said.
For Iraqis on the ground, such promises mean little until they're
delivered.
Residents, fearing looting would move on to private homes, set up
neighborhood patrols to prevent it. One family put a girder across the
street at the end of their block and stood by it with guns. They, too,
denounced America.
"The United States breaks into the palaces and then threatens
all the people who steal from them," said Efil Adnan, a 48-year-old
oil engineer guarding the barricade with two of his sons and his
brother. He held a pistol; the brother wielded a Kalashnikov.
"The United States is a liar," Adnan said. "They are
not going to make anything better."
His son, Forkan Efil, 13, wore a T-shirt that said
"Football" and also carried a pistol. He said all his friends
have guns now.
"I don't like the Americans," the boy said, "but this
pistol is for the thieves."
At the market, the dozens of men attempting to tear down the Saddam
statue didn't have the oomph. The chain kept snapping, and finally they
turned to Plan B — pouring gasoline over it and setting it ablaze.
But in doing so, they made sure one important point was known —
just because they revel in Saddam's ouster doesn't mean they're waving
American flags.
"The army of America is like Genghis Khan," Fouad Abdullah
Ahmed, 49, snapped as U.S. tanks rumbled by without stopping.
"America is not good and Saddam is not good. My people refused
Saddam Hussein, and they will refuse the Americans."
One young man went even further.
"If this continues in Baghdad, we'll kill any American or
British soldier," said Rahad Bahman Qasim, 30 and unemployed. For
emphasis, he added this: "All of us — even the women."___
EDITOR'S NOTE — Niko Price is correspondent-at-large for The
Associated Press.
