If Not Peace, at Least Quiet for Most Iraqis

Judging from the reactions of ordinary Iraqis, so far it is a pinprick.

Although three nights of aerial bombardment have raised a sense of indignation and anger, what the United States describes as a punishing campaign to diminish Iraq’s ability to produce weapons of mass destruction otherwise has little affected the rhythm of life in the capital.

One must look hard to see bomb damage. Traffic flows at its normal rate. The street value of the Iraqi dinar has hardly budged. People are shopping but not hoarding. Only the lines for gasoline are a little longer.

The oft-repeated answer to the oft-repeated question--”Aren’t you afraid?”--remains the same. “No, we are used to this.”

And despite a deep, cold fury that lies beneath the veneer of normality, one cannot escape the sense that most people in Baghdad are remaining calm because they are aware of the limits that U.S.-British forces have put on themselves to minimize civilian casualties.

The heavy traffic on the streets indicates that they do not expect the bombardments during daylight, when many people would be hurt.

Nor are people taking advantage of air-raid shelters or fleeing in large numbers to the countryside. For most, the one precaution is to get off the street after dark.

There has been no effort on the part of authorities to black out residential and commercial areas at night, which would appear to be a tacit acknowledgment that they are not prime targets.

Nonetheless, there was palpable anger at U.S. leaders Friday for what Iraqis described as a senseless act of superpower bravado that has killed and injured scores of civilians.

Although adults assert that they are holding up well psychologically, they do not hesitate to voice fears for their children, who they say are being traumatized.

The Americans “don’t give a damn whether the attack is to civilian or military targets,” said Dr. Sarmad Kassar, the 51-year-old director of Kindi Teaching Hospital, where 52 civilians had been taken for treatment after the first two nights of bombings. “The only thing they want is the oil.”

Kassar described the scene in his household when the bombing started about 2 a.m. Thursday.

His children--a 4-year-old girl and a 3-year-old boy--were terrified by the lights and the sounds of warfare, he said.

His wife begged him not to go to his job at the hospital. His daughter became so upset, clinging and calling for him, that she began to vomit.

“What am I going to do for my boy and girl, who have this psychological disturbance?” Kassar asked. In his opinion, he said, the scars left by the air raids are a form of child abuse.

When asked whether he expected the bombings to have been much worse, he responded bitterly: “They are trying to say that the U.S. has pinpoint targets, but if we have even one man or one woman dead, it wouldn’t have happened without the U.S.A.”

Some residential areas have indeed been hit.

In the Karrada district, about 100 yards from the banks of the Tigris River, excavators and bulldozers were at work Friday filling an 8-foot-deep crater in Bujamel Street where a missile or bomb struck--an apparent misfire, unless military planners were hoping to destroy the used-television shop there.

The explosion tossed up huge chunks of asphalt and scattered debris for blocks. Some heavy pieces flew over houses and landed in the alley in back. Ragged metal fragments, the casing of the missile or bomb, could be picked off the sidewalk.

No one was killed by the explosion, and the few injuries appeared minor even though one older building was demolished.

“The sound is terrifying,” said Samir Janabi, 29, who was inside his house when the quiet street of lower-middle-class homes and shops was struck.

The nearby Yarmuk Hospital dealt with far more serious injuries. Doctors there said they had 17 deaths from the first two nights of bombing. Iraqi authorities have said 25 people died in the first two days of attacks.

One family with three children suffered injuries when a missile struck their house, Dr. Tarik Safi said.

One ward had two burn victims, their skin hideously peeling. In another were eight wounded, listless men surrounded by somber family members. The victims had been bandaged and operated on and now were lying down or half-sitting, revealing cuts and deep bruises.

Among them, covered by a coarse blanket that hid a lower-abdominal wound, was 20-year-old Mahsen Hadi. The shopkeeper, who had been on his way home from work Thursday at 10 p.m., remembered seeing an explosion in the air above him and then collapsing on the ground.

“I was watching the sky and I was afraid,” he recounted. “I thought I was finished.”

One of Hadi’s doctors, who would not give his name, was caustic as he described the attack, the timing of which, he believes, was linked to President Clinton’s impeachment problems with the House of Representatives.

“The Iraqi people think this is because of Monica Lewinsky,” he said. “The cause for hitting us is because of Clinton’s shameful acts with her.

“He does the act, and we take the pain.”