Weary Iraqis Whipsawed by Hope, Despair

A mechanic in the jumbled working-class neighborhood of Qadamiya leafed through the thin Baghdad newspaper Thursday and noted that one article after another spoke of “forthcoming” talks between Iraq and the United States.

The articles invariably emphasized the “seriousness” of the talks and the need for them to be “deep.”

“ Inshallah “--God willing--the mechanic said, and a clutter of customers in the shop nodded with satisfaction.

Then a new customer came in, looking for ever-more-scarce motor oil, and contributed a more pessimistic outlook. Government radio had just reported that Iraq’s Foreign Ministry was accusing President Bush of a “swindle” for trying to set an early date for a meeting between Iraqi President Saddam Hussein and Secretary of State James A. Baker III in Baghdad.

“Maybe no talks will happen,” the customer remarked, and the earlier nods of optimism gave way to the sound of clucking tongues, an Arab expression of dismay.

So goes the whiplash of emotions these days in Baghdad as the city teeters between hopes of peace and intimations of war.

Gone is the business-as-usual air of the city that persisted in the first months of the Persian Gulf crisis. The horizon of conflict has become distinct in the minds of Baghdad residents, not the least because a Jan. 15, 1991, date has been set by the United Nations for Iraq to get out of occupied Kuwait or face war.

Even before the ultimatum, a sinking feeling began to take hold here, Iraqis and diplomats say. Expanded military call-ups essentially covering every able-bodied man between the ages of 18 and 33 were announced three weeks ago and swept thousands of civilians into uniform.

More than a million Iraqis are under arms, Western diplomats estimate, with fresh troops sent to the potential front and to factories, oil pipelines, border posts and other strategic sites for guard duty.

“My brother, he fought in Iran and now he is in Kuwait,” said a bus driver in the mechanic’s shop, himself a wounded veteran of the eight-year conflict with Iran. “He is tired. He came back from war to have a family, and now he is gone again.”

Two cousins of a watch-store owner, 18 and 19 years old, were also drafted, early this month, creating a family stir. “Their mother cried and cried. She begged them not to go,” recalled the merchant, who like others declined to give his name for fear of official reprisal.

Did the boys consider refusing to go? “To not go means death,” the driver explained, saying that if a conscript runs away, his whole family would be subject to arrest.

“Even the sisters!” he added angrily.

Some youths, both conscripts and civilians, have evidently fled despite the implicit danger to their relatives. But the threat may be lessening: On Thursday the government announced a general amnesty for Iraqis “who have illegally left the country.”

All charges against the fugitives, whether army deserters or civilians, will be dropped if they surrender in the next two months. The amnesty also called on Iraqi students abroad, some of whom apparently have no desire to return, to register with their embassies. If they promise to come back at an “appropriate” time, they can continue their foreign studies.

“I think such people will only come back if there is peace, inshallah ,” the bus driver commented dryly.

Hope and despair also vie for the attention of Baghdad residents in their quest for daily subsistence. In the city’s markets, a paradox of supply indicates both Iraq’s ability to survive the worldwide trade embargo and the rising cost of its isolation.

Food is available both in the form of government rations and on the black market, although supplies are shrinking. In an open-air bazaar off busy Rashid Street, flour, sugar, cooking oil and even cookies are abundant, with quantities coming from Iran by the smugglers’ route. Western diplomats say that the Iraqi government, rather than being perturbed at the illicit trade, has licensed smugglers to bring in food.

Food looted from Iraqi-occupied Kuwait still fills shelves in mom-and-pop stores. (Rolex watches, Italian fashions and Japanese electronics are also on sale along Rashid.) It is like an entire country holding a going-out-of-business sale.

But the supply of rationed staple goods is not enough for the needs of most Iraqi families: 11 pounds of flour per person per month, two pounds of sugar, two pounds of cooking oil. Matches, razor blades and detergent are also in short supply.

Black market prices for food are escalating. Two hundred pounds of flour cost 3 1/2 Iraqi dinars before the Aug. 2 invasion of Kuwait. Now, 3 1/2 dinars buys two pounds. In a month, the price of sugar has risen by 50%, from about one dinar for two pounds to 1 1/2 dinars.

Although the vast majority of Iraqis lack American dollars, the official exchange rate is $3 per dinar. Black market rates, of course, are different. Before the invasion, the dinar was worth about 30 cents on the black market. Now it is worth about 20 cents.

Only the price of lamb, ironically, has declined. Before the invasion, much of Iraq’s meat was exported to wealthy Kuwait.

“Every day, every day, the prices go up,” said a veiled housewife as she browsed through the winding market. “Peace, peace is the answer.”

The government seems eager to give the impression that the shortages and skyrocketing prices are temporary. An article in the state-run Baghdad Observer on Thursday told of continuing efforts to “foil the U.S.-led economic blockade.” State prices paid to farmers were increased, planting expanded and drainage on marginal land improved, the article claimed.

But there were hints of coming problems. A committee is studying the rationing of chicken feed, and teams are trying to prevent animal disease by early diagnosis, indicating to foreign observers a shortage of veterinary medicine.

Under the press of budding uncertainties, Baghdad residents follow government moves at home and abroad with acute attention. The appointment of a new defense minister Wednesday created a stir in the streets. It was taken as a sign of preparation for war.

The new defense minister, Lt. Gen. Saadi Tuma Jubouri, is known for having been a do-or-die commander in the 1980-88 Iran-Iraq War, where he was involved in the vigorous and costly defense of the city of Al Faw. Tens of thousands of Iraqis died in battles there.

Jubouri was shown on television taking the oath of office Thursday, his hand on the Koran. An Iraqi customer at a teahouse watched and whispered, “Crazy.”

“This means too many young will die,” he said nervously as he walked out into a narrow alley. An uncle of his had fought at Al Faw and is still missing.

In contrast to the interest shown in the defense minister’s career, the visit of Algerian President Chadli Bendjedid drew scant attention. The government offered only an opaque report of his meeting with President Hussein; the pair “discussed events on the Arab level,” television news noted.

“No matter. Only two presidents, Bush and Saddam, can settle this,” said the bus driver in the mechanic’s shop.

But the deadlock over dates persists. President Bush had invited Iraqi Foreign Minister Tarik Aziz to visit Washington and meet with him next week.

Originally, the Iraqis wanted to schedule the return visit by Secretary of State Baker to Baghdad for Jan. 13. Now they want Jan. 12.

Washington insists that the Baghdad meeting take place no later than Jan. 3. The wrangling has jeopardized the whole negotiating scheme.

“Iraq will not accept anyone to fix a date for the Iraqi president,” the Iraqi Foreign Ministry declared in the short broadcast message.