Death Lurks In Iraq Traffic Jams
A 15-mile stretch of road south of Baghdad has become the most dreaded in Iraq after a series of high-profile kidnappings and deadly ambushes targeting foreign journalists and prominent politicians.
Heat and boredom aren't the worst aspect of being trapped in the gridlock that unfolds every day in the street running through Mahmoudiyah's main food market.
My traveling companion on a recent trip was an Iraqi with a farm in the area. Not that it'll help much, he warned; his local connections were scant protection against those known here as mujahedeen, or holy fighters.
We set out in his 2001 Chevrolet Caprice, but he decided it was too noticeable and changed to a 14-year-old Mercedes when we went out again the next day. Still, there were plenty of other giveaways, even for an Arab foreigner — having the wrong accent, or no mustache, wearing a seat belt or reading a book while traveling in a car.
All eyes were peeled for pursuing cars and suspicious movements in the palm groves and green fields on the road, which winds through Mahmoudiyah and the neighboring towns of Youssifiyah and Latifiyah.
Once out of Mahmoudiyah and heading to Latifiyah, five miles south, the scenery wasn't encouraging. Two dozen burned, bullet-riddled cars and trucks lined the road.
Residents say insurgents employ lookouts on the four-lane road to spot possible targets.
Around here, all an assassin needs for cover is a traffic jam.
"Anyone can walk up to someone and shoot him dead now," says Adnan Fahd al-Ghiriri, a tribal leader from Mahmoudiyah. "Everyone will be too scared to do anything about it and the killer will walk away."
The traffic policemen standing idly by in Mahmoudiyah are no deterrent to an attacker looking to kill or abduct foreigners and their supposed collaborators — whether Iraqi government officials or truckers working on the U.S.-led reconstruction effort.
The 67-year-old al-Ghiriri belongs to the leadership class that was supposed to be the Americans' best ally in facing down Iraqi insurgents and rebuilding the country. But this farming town and two neighboring communities of Latifiyah and Youssifiyah south of Baghdad have spun almost totally out of government control, with insurgents backed by local tribal leaders emerging as the real power.
The reason Mahmoudiyah has constant traffic jams, ironically, is because about five months ago the U.S. military closed a stretch of highway that bypasses the three towns, squeezing traffic onto the smaller road where insurgents are active.
The disruptions of life under occupation are evident in the shortage of irrigation water and fuel that have hurt the agriculture-based economy.
"Dear farmers, we apologize that we cannot offer you credit at the present time," read a sign at a farm supplies outlet in Mahmoudiyah.
"No credit, and no 'I'll pay later'," read another sign.
While not yet a "no-go" area like Fallujah, west of Baghdad, the towns south of the capital pose a serious challenge to Iraq's U.S.-backed interim government.
Youssifiyah, just 15 miles from Baghdad, is of particular concern in case the insurgency spills from there into the capital, already racked by an insurgency of its own.
The government, in office since June 28, faces growing discontent over its failure to pacify the country. The apparent noncooperation of tribal leaders is another sign the insurgents are, at least in some places, terrorizing their way to supremacy.
The government says it's trying hard, but lacks manpower.
"We are continuing to go to these areas to rid them of saboteurs," Interior Ministry spokesman Sabah Kadhim said. "These operations are carried out by the multinational force and the police, but their numbers are not at the required level and they cannot operate freely."
The insurgents, according to residents, consist mostly of former members of Saddam Hussein's army and security agencies, and are highly disciplined and sophisticated. They also include non-Iraqi fighters, according to Kadhim, as well as followers of the austere Wahhabi creed, the brand of Islam practiced in Saudi Arabia.
The new government is also up against a close network of tribes and families sharing the religious belief that the Americans in Iraq are invaders and that every Muslim has a duty to fight them.
"Things have gone too far for middle ground now," said Sheik Faisal Jalab, a tribal chief from Youssifiyah. "Our religion obliges us to stand behind those defending the faith."
Jalab, who is in his late 60s and wears traditional Arab robes, speaks of his joy at Saddam's fall and his later disappointment over the behavior of U.S. troops in Iraq, especially their raids on Iraqi homes in search of insurgents.
"I know they are a super power," he said, "but must they humiliate us like this?"
His son, Ahmed Faisal, chimed in: "How can you blame me for hating the Americans after they killed so many innocent Iraqis and forced their way into our homes?
"You cannot even blame me if I become a suicide bomber."
By HAMZA HENDAWI