Grim fear envelops Iraqi's
Residents Clear Stores of Bottled Water and Canned Food
By Rajiv Chandrasekaran
Washington Post Foreign Service
Monday, March 17, 2003; 4:22 PM
BAGHDAD -- After months of displaying business-as-usual calm even as legions of U.S. troops assembled within striking distance of Iraq, Baghdad residents showed signs of panic today at the prospect of an imminent American invasion and the lawlessness that it may spark.
People cleared stores of bottled water and canned food, converted sacks of Iraqi currency into dollars and waited in long queues for gasoline. Merchants fearful of looting emptied their stores of electronics and designer clothing, while soldiers intensified work on trenches and removed sensitive files from government buildings. Cars stuffed with people and household possessions drove out of the city.
"Everyone is scared," Sayed Khuder, an electronics salesman, said as a half-dozen laborers removed $12,000 worth of televisions, refrigerators and air conditioners from his store in one of the city's tonier neighborhoods and loaded the merchandise on a pickup truck. "People know what will happen. They don't see anything but war in the future."
For months, this city of nearly 6 million people seemed impervious to the prospect of war. Residents boasted that American threats were an everyday occurrence. Many insisted an invasion never would come to pass. Even if it did, they predicted it would be similar to December 1998, when the United States fired cruise missiles at Baghdad for four nights, destroying several empty government buildings but doing little to affect the normal rhythms of life. People boasted that, in any case, stores would be stocked with food and filling stations with fuel.
But now, the grim fear of an attack has enveloped Baghdad. Although state-run television and newspapers have not emphasized the imminence of war, largely because President Saddam Hussein's government does not want to spark panic and a possible insurrection, many residents have kept abreast -- with short-wave radios and through word of mouth -- of diplomatic efforts to avert a conflict. By early this morning, the resolve of the United States and Britain to use force, voiced at a summit conference in the Azores on Sunday, already had ricocheted around the city.
"We've heard the news," said Amal Medhi, 32, a mother of two young daughters, as she waited on a busy street for her husband to pick her up -- along with 18 bottles of water she had just purchased. "An attack could happen at any time. Tonight. Tomorrow. So we must be prepared."
Bottled water appeared to be in short supply. Many shops that used to display pallets full of the bottles on the sidewalk were stripped bare. Those that still had a few bottles were selling them for as much as three times the normal price. At Baghdad's main downtown market, one distributor hawked six-bottle packages from the back of pickup truck after being mobbed by purchasers.
Shopkeepers who had run out of water said they were not sure whether they would receive additional shipments. "The distributor told me maybe by Thursday," Sahid Abid, the owner of a small food store, said as he loitered on a front stoop normally covered with water bottles. "There's clearly a shortage."
With bottled water in short supply, many residents turned to the next best thing: large plastic jerry cans, which they planned to fill with tap water.
"This looks good," a stout, middle-aged woman said as she peered into a blue, five-gallon jug offered by a sidewalk vendor. She bought two, the first supplies her family has purchased to prepare for a war.
She said the 10 gallons would last no more than a week. She would like to have more water on hand, she said, but cannot afford to buy more containers. And she wondered how many she would need if Baghdad's water supply was disrupted.
She and others recalled the months after the 1991 Persian Gulf War, when Baghdad lacked electricity and running water, depriving people of not only light and air conditioning but also clean water and sewage treatment. Food production was affected, as was medical care. Outbreaks of cholera and typhoid erupted.
"Should I fill my house with these?" she said, holding up the two jugs. "There is only so much we can do. The rest is up to God."
People here fear not just another wave of bombing -- one that Western military analysts predict will be more intense than anything this city ever has experienced -- but also the bedlam that might ensue if the government crumbles and U.S. forces do not quickly establish control. There is a fear here that residents of Baghdad's slums will spill into wealthy neighborhoods to loot homes and businesses belonging to the elite, people who have grown rich through oil smuggling and their connections to Hussein's government.
Anxious shopkeepers hauled expensive merchandise, from refrigerators to wool suits, out of their stores. The owner of a kitchen appliances showroom ordered workmen to build a brick wall in front of his display windows. A few blocks away, Sami Alwan, the portly manager of an electronics store, watched as a dozen lanky workers wheeled out Chinese-made televisions, portable tape decks and electric meat grinders. He said they would be stored in his basement until the war finished.
He said he fears looting, not by impoverished and angry Iraqis, but by U.S. troops.
"They will come and take all of this," Alwan said, pointing to a stack of boom boxes made by a firm called Gosonic, a Panasonic knock-off. Such products are common in Baghdad because U.N. trade sanctions imposed after Iraq's 1990 invasion of Kuwait have restricted the import of genuine electronic goods from Japan.
When it was pointed out that U.S. soldiers have access to better electronic goods back home, Alwan was undeterred. "They are coming to rob Iraq," he growled. "It's not just our oil. They want everything."
Jewelers have been emptying their shops of gold, fearing robbery and selling to frightened residents who want to convert Iraqi banknotes, which feature a large visage of Hussein, into a medium they believe will still hold value after he is toppled.
People also besieged currency exchange dealers with the same goal, lugging in satchels of worn Iraqi dinars and leaving with small wads of $100 bills. Fears about a war sent the dinar sinking, from about 2,500 to the dollar to more than 2,700.
"It's much easier to keep your money in dollars," said a man who heaved a burlap sack stuffed with 4 million dinars into the Beneficial Exchange office. He left with 15 $100 bills, neatly folded and tucked into the front pocket of his pants.
In the future, he said, "dollars will be very useful."
© 2003 The Washington Post Company
Let's look at the bright side, elite Iraqi military dudes... At least some of y'all might be able to use your face scarves as surrender flags in the next few days...