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Waiting for bombs to fall on Baghdad Christians, Sunni, Shiite praying Scholar: 'I'll be listening to Bach'
MITCH POTTER
BAGHDAD—When one lives in a city whose very skyline may look profoundly different in a matter of days, the question takes on new meaning: What do you do, exactly, when the bombs begin to fall?
Physically, Iraqis intend to take shelter as best they can if the final strand of diplomacy ends up pulling the trigger on war in the Persian Gulf.
But many will also seek solace for the soul.
Iraqi scholar Abdul Sattar Jawad found himself pondering this unlikely question yesterday. And he found himself offering an unlikely answer — he may well be reading Western literature when the U.S. bombardment rains down.
"Ernest Hemingway, William Faulkner, and definitely I will have the Norton Anthology of English Literature in my lap," said Jawad, English department chair at Baghdad University's College of Arts. "And I'll be listening to Strauss, Beethoven, Hayden and the piano concertos of Bach until the electricity is gone. Not to make a political point, these are simply the things I love.
"This is the world's first civilization, but I will be taking comfort in the culture of the new civilization," Jawad said.
Though dictatorial Iraq strictly limits access to foreign media, it is a poorly kept secret that a small number of Iraqis access satellite TV through the black market. They will witness the onslaught via split screen — one eye on CNN, the BBC or Al-Jazeera, the other on the real thing.
One Iraqi gentleman yesterday discreetly demonstrated his illegal satellite system. The receiver is hidden on his roof beneath a thin cotton scrim that lets the signal pass through without alerting low-flying helicopters, which are occasionally dispatched by the Iraqi regime to spot the dirty dishes.
"We watch the news every night for every little update. I don't know whether to laugh or to cry," he said. "But at least we know what is happening."
The man takes the signal box with him to work each day, denying access to a son he complains has developed a fondness for European erotica films.
Prayer, however, is certain to be the first and final resort for a significant majority of the nearly six million people of Baghdad, Sunni, Shiite and Christian alike. That is true also of many of the remaining anti-war protesters in the city, who intend to stay come what may.
For the past few days, Lisa Martens, 25, says she has had various Bible verses rolling through her head, hoping to find the right words to help centre herself during an attack. Born and raised in Brandon, Man., Martens is the only remaining Canadian delegate of Christian Peacemakers, the non-violence group that began sending teams to Iraq last fall.
Martens didn't hop a plane to Baghdad on impulse. As a staff member of Christian Peacemakers, she spent a year among the paramilitary forces of Columbia before accepting this assignment one month ago. She says the decision to stay is entirely spiritual.
"My religion has a history of doing good things, bad things, naive things and crazy things," said Martens, a graduate of theology and peace studies at Canadian Mennonite Bible College.
"But the basic tenet has always been the same: the belief that we can work things out without killing each other." Like most Iraqis, Martens will face war without a flak jacket, chemical protection equipment or gas mask. "It is difficult to explain. I love life. I want to live to be 99, to become a teacher, to have children. But I look into the faces of the young women and children here, and I feel they deserve the same possibility of realizing those dreams."
For Baghdad entrepreneur Khalil Souhale, 38, the question of what to do was obvious yesterday, as he scrambled to wind down his family's holdings in the city, including padlocking his posh Castello Restaurant in the trendy Arasat district. Yesterday, he sold his car. Today, Souhale leaves for Amman, Jordan, joining the rest of the family to witness the bombardment of his city on television.
"Many are preparing to leave, if we can afford it," he said. "Some of my friends have taken houses outside of the city. I still hold out a glimmer of hope, but we are not prepared to sit here through the attack. Enough is enough." Additional articles by Mitch Potter |