Why They Fight

When did he leave Iraq?

I live all my life, I born there. I left the country in 1974, when I realized at a very early age that the country gonna go down the hill under such management–they are a gang rather than a leader.

Moments later, another question. “You’ve just completed your training of approximately one month. Do you feel as dedicated today as when you first came here?”

In fact my mission started 26 years ago, I never lay down, I never sleep. But the training within the last four weeks has just bringed that dream back to reality. And the closer I come to the mission, the more I get fired up and the more I get emotional. In fact, I think it’s still with me. Every time I look at a friend here with me at training, I see a brother suffering there in the prison or torture or disappear. I see a piece of child lost his happiness and smile for years. I see a face of woman has been stripped out of their dignity for the last 35 years. I see a waste of resources of a great country and cradle of civilization has been waste. Today is the day where the mission start and I’m comforted more than ever.

This exchange comes from a series of exit interviews taped by the U.S. government and obtained by The Weekly Standard. The interviews were conducted by government personnel, and some of the questions, perhaps those above, could fairly be described as leading. But any doubt that Hakim expressed the beliefs of a great many Iraqis was shattered Friday, when Iraqis greeted American soldiers with dancing, handshakes, and hugs. Kuwaiti television captured the scene in the southern Iraqi city of Safwan, a town notable because it’s where coalition and Iraqi military leaders signed the cease-fire that ended the first Gulf War in 1991.

Some cheered and chanted “Ameriki! Ameriki!” when U.S. Marines ripped down the omnipresent, oversized portraits of Saddam Hussein. One man pounded Saddam’s face with his shoe. Maj. David “Bull” Gurfein started another cheer, and several Iraqi men joined in. “Iraqis! Iraqis! Iraqis!”

An Iraqi named Ali Khemy spoke to Ellen Knickmeyer of the Associated Press. “Americans very good,” he offered. “Iraq wants to be free.” A young man concurred. “No Saddam Hussein! Bush!”

Earlier, on Thursday, the United Nations secretary general had expressed his disappointment that the war had begun. Twelve years and seventeen U.N. resolutions hadn’t been enough. “Perhaps if we had persevered a little longer Iraq could yet have been disarmed peacefully,” he had said.

Then, he had changed the subject, saying, “My thoughts today are with the Iraqi people.”

If Kofi Annan is now thinking of the Iraqi people, they might be forgiven for asking, What took you so long? The Iraqi people have officially been in the thoughts of the U.N. Security Council since April 5, 1991, when that body declared itself “seized of the matter”–the matter, that is, of the mass slaughter of the Iraqi people by their outlaw leader. The words of Resolution 688, one of the first U.N. resolutions passed after the Gulf War, were strong. The Security Council, it said,

Condemns the repression of the Iraqi civilian population in many parts of Iraq, including most recently in Kurdish populated areas, the consequences of which threaten international peace and security in the region; Demands that Iraq, as a contribution to remove the threat to international peace and security in the region, immediately end this repression, and expresses the hope in the same context that an open dialogue will take place to ensure that the human and political rights of all Iraqi citizens are respected.

Hundreds of thousands of Iraqis have been killed since the U.N. made that dramatic and worthless paper proclamation. Some, perhaps as many as one million, perished from causes related to U.N. sanctions imposed because Saddam would not disarm. Others died directly at the hands of the Iraqi dictator–by political assassination, random execution, or mass killing.

However noble Kofi Annan’s intentions, if he had had his way, these atrocities would have continued. While he convened meetings between Cameroon and France, while he discussed human rights doctrines sipping tea on New York’s East Side, while he wished for “an open dialogue” on Iraq, more Iraqis would have died.

Kofi Annan lost that argument. The “peace” he so desired, which really wasn’t so peaceful at all, has given way to war. And the Iraqis, despite their apprehension about the human costs of the conflict, have begun to celebrate their freedom.

As Annan spoke to television cameras on Thursday, Hakim, one of the Iraqis who occupy the secretary general’s thoughts, was working with U.S. troops in the desert near the Iraqi border. The world’s top diplomat was talking. The middle-aged Iraqi-American petrochemical engineer was preparing for war.

ON SUNDAY, March 9, two men who desperately wanted to join the U.S. troops in the Gulf summoned me to the Microtel Inn near Dulles Airport in Northern Virginia. I had gotten to know them on a recent trip to Dearborn, Michigan. Both had been flown to Dulles by the Majid al-Khoei Foundation, a nonprofit Muslim cultural and philanthropic center. Its namesake and current general secretary, Sayed Abdul Majid al-Khoei, a Shia Muslim cleric, is by reputation a moderate. He has written recently for National Review and is featured in a State Department public diplomacy campaign called “Iraq’s Voices of Freedom.” The foundation’s plan, as one of the participants told me, was to dispatch teams of 15 Iraqi exiles to cities and towns throughout Iraq to “settle the people” once the fighting began.

The Microtel is a huge pre-fab building off of the toll road that takes D.C. visitors to Dulles airport. It sits at the confluence of overdeveloped and rural, one of the last of the gleaming, sharp-edged modern structures before you reach the terminal.

The lobby, the day we met, was a makeshift café, with nearly a dozen Iraqis chain-smoking cigarettes and sipping stale Microtel coffee from white styrofoam cups. Several were dressed in traditional garb–flowing robes, sandals, and a wide assortment of headdress, from the skullcaps popular with American Nation-of-Islam Muslims to the kaffiyeh favored by Yasser Arafat. Others were dressed in Western clothes. One man was wearing khakis and a white sweater bearing the blue-and-gold emblem of the University of Michigan. Of all those present, he was the only one who looked like he might have stayed in a Microtel before.

Their anticipation of the coming adventure was apparent. None of them had any idea where they were going or when they would leave. They knew only that they would be involved in some way in the liberation. The current rumor was that they would work with British forces once bombs started dropping, translating from English into Arabic and back again. There were several young men, perhaps in their twenties, and others who could have been septuagenarians. All of them, even the old men, had been hoping for something more, possibly a combat role. But they were willing to help in any way they could.

Two of the Iraqis–former Republican Guard general Riadh Abdullah and his friend Lt. Col. Munem al Saedy–invited me to their room for a chat away from the rest of the delegation. They were out of place in this group, they told me, because of their vast military experience. The men listed their bona fides, and it was hard to disagree. They wanted to know if I had heard anything more about potential work with the Defense Department. I hadn’t, but promised I would check.

Both men had signed up to work with the Pentagon, but had heard nothing. Defense Department sources say that processing these applications has taken time–in part because of the need for careful vetting of volunteers. The Iraqi officers jumped on the al-Khoei Foundation trip as their ticket to the region.

“I must go to Iraq,” said al Saedy. “This is my good dream.”

After our meeting, the group was taken to New York for several days, and then returned to the Microtel a week before the bombing began. They were scheduled to leave for Kuwait City on the evening of Tuesday, March 18, but the flight that brought me to Kuwait the day before that was the last British Airways flight in, and most other carriers cut back their schedules severely. No doubt many Iraqis who signed up for these programs are now glued to their television sets, frustrated to have been left behind.

ALTHOUGH SCORES of Iraqi Americans seem to have been shut out of pursuing their “good dreams,” others are working with American forces inside Iraq. Hakim, the engineer from California, is part of a group the Pentagon is calling the Free Iraqi Forces. They were trained at an air base in Taszar, Hungary. Military officials here won’t reveal exactly how many Iraqis are working with U.S. troops, but the total is probably no more than 300. That modest count is not for lack of volunteers. Over the past several months, the Bush administration has fielded thousands of inquiries from Iraqis eager to enlist–many from the United States and others from around the world.

Those lucky enough to make it to Hungary trained hard, though their exercises were much less rigorous than ordinary military boot camp. The training came in two phases–two weeks of basic skills and two weeks of civil-military operations. In the first section, the instruction focused on things like self-defense, map-reading, and military customs, as well as first aid and chemical/biological weapons protection. In the final two weeks, the Free Iraqi Forces’ boot camp concentrated on refugee resettlement and working with relief agencies. Several participants wept at the graduation ceremony.

Here are some thoughts expressed by two members of the Free Iraqi Forces, recorded on the day they graduated from training in Hungary.

Hamdy is an engineer and small business owner from Missouri.

U.S. government interviewer: You’re giving up a lot to put your business on hold, your family life on hold, to go to Iraq to help democratize the country. Are you as dedicated right now on your graduation day as you were when you first came here?

Hamdy: I was obligated for that, the day I joined the uprising on February 2, 1991, when I give away all of my privilege, when I was living a very comfortable life in my country, when I joined the people–I joined the uprising against the regime trying to overthrow Saddam from power and gain our freedom and democracy in Iraq. I consider this a continuation for the mission we started in 1991. I am ready to do it, now more better.

Interviewer: You must have been excited when you heard about this opportunity. How did you present this to your family?

Hamdy: (Deep breath) Actually, my name comes up three or four days after my colleagues in the city I live in in Missouri. And I was very upset because my name was not on the list to join this mission after three or four days. [Then] I receive a phone call from my friends, part of the politicians in Washington, D.C., telling me about this duty, and my wife just saw me jumping and laughing and dancing that my name was on the list. And my wife was dancing more than me because she want me to go (he says smiling big). As well, she was angry that her name was not on, because she wanted to join this mission as well. As we have three children and we cannot leave them and either she or me has to join these forces, so we decided that I would go for this mission and she stay until we liberate Iraq and I will move them all.

Interviewer: So tell me about the training. Was it a surprise to you or was it what you expected?

Hamdy: It’s a little above my expectation. I mean, I felt that civilized nations cared about their people and their countries and their nations only. But I see an American army and all these units and working for U.S. to go for the civil military operation and all of our training is for the duty of taking care of civilians in Iraq. And that was a little above my expectation. But there is nations that care about other nations’ civilians more than their own government, like Saddam’s government who kill a lot, like their own civilians, use chemical weapons and mass destruction weapon against our people, in 1988 and 1991, after the uprising as well.

David is a middle-aged construction contractor.

U.S. government interviewer: You’ve finished one month of training–you’ve probably left a very comfortable life back home. Tell me something about the life you left before you came here.

David: Well, I live in the United States since 1984, happily married, got five children–all of them born in the United States. I work all kind of jobs. For the last ten years, I work in construction and right now I’m construction contractor.

Interviewer: How did you tell your family, especially to your five children, that Daddy is going away for a long time?

David: Well, it’s not first time. In 1991 when Iraq invaded Kuwait, nobody willing to take me that time. And this time, what I know they said, the United States military was ready. And I went ahead on the phone and called the State Department, the Pentagon, everybody I can find on the Internet. Finally, somebody gave me informations that I got to get ahold of the Iraqi opposition, so I contact all the Iraqi opposition to–I put my name on every list was available.

Interviewer: How soon after you applied did you hear that you were chosen?

David: Approximately two weeks, a very torture two weeks I was waiting.

Interviewer: And from the time you were accepted to the time you left home, how long was it?

David: Less than 24 hours.

Interviewer: How did you tell your family–what did you tell your family?

David: Well, actually before I volunteered I set me and my wife, and we discussed it and she knows it’s a noble job. And when my country called me, I’m also your citizen, and when my chief and commander want me to serve I am happy to do it and willing to do it as long as it takes.

Interviewer: Have you had any prior military experience?

David: No I don’t have no military experience.

Interviewer: Tell me about the training–was it what you expected?

David: Well, I am overwhelmed, I am overwhelmed by these beautiful young men and womens who left their loved ones in the United States and they came here to train me, I feel so small (hand gesture for smallness) compared to what they’re doing.

Interviewer: Tell me about the training.

David: Well first we had training in self-defense, then we had training with civil military operations, and then we graduated today.

Interviewer: What do you think you might accomplish?

David: I hope to do my job as my country want me to do. To serve the people.

Interviewer: If Saddam Hussein is uprooted in Iraq, will you return or stay in your country to help democratize?

David: This is very hard question. I got two lives: I got life in United States and I got previous life,…but as long as my country needs me I will wear this (grabs uniform). But if they don’t need me no more, we shall see.

Interviewer: Do you have a family in Iraq now?

David: Yes, my family is still in Iraq.

Interviewer: Are you in communication with them?

David: Yes (pause), last communication was approximately a year ago.

Interviewer: Do you have any idea what life is like in Iraq today?

David: It’s a hell. It’s very, very tough. It’s very hard life. Imagine–you cannot go out the way you want. You cannot work. You cannot talk. You can do nothing. It is police state, it is hard.

Interviewer: You probably are aware of the demonstrations being held around the world. A lot of them were happening before you came here, and probably in the month that you were here more have popped up around the world. What would you say to these demonstrators who are pretty much living in free and democratic countries and here they have a great deal to say about the U.N. and the United States coming into Iraq?

David: Well, I would tell them I’m proud of you. That’s what democracy is all about. That’s what freedom is all about. Free, you can talk, you can do anything you want to do. But the people of Iraq cannot do it. Where you been when Saddam Hussein killed 100,000 Kurds? Where you been when he killed a million Iraqi soldiers and Iraqis and Iranis? Where you been when he occupied Kuwait and he killed over a thousand Kuwaitis? Why nobody says nothing?

Interviewer: If Saddam Hussein were in front of you instead of me what would you say to him?

David: (Laughs) I would tell him, “What comes around goes around. Now, your time to go. Your time is up. Now, we’re twenty-first century. No room for dictators.”

Stephen F. Hayes is a staff writer at The Weekly Standard.