I usually call my parents in Baghdad twice a day; the first one is at noon, and the other one at night. As i called them today at noon, they told me about fierce fighting all over our area, that started around sunrise Thursday.
Asking our neighbors, they said that the fighting was between the "Islamic Army" & the Al-Qaida's "Islamic State in Iraq".
My parents also said that different weapons were used during this fighting, from AKs to RPGs, not mentioning small rockets.
Fighting was concentrated on the main streets in the area, especially near the bridge which is on the Airport Highway and the High School nearby.
Asked whether there was any "vocal signs" from mosques, they answered that there was nothing from the nearby mosque except the regular Azan (call for Prayer).
There weren't any US patrols whatsoever during the day. It seems that the US Army is taking a wait-and-see attitude. The Army had kept the area completely blocked (except for on-foot movement) for about a week now.
The humanitarian situation is unfortunately expected to deteriorate is food would run short because of the blockade and fighting.
The clashes resided around 2 pm, when some US helicopters flew overhead. During (and after) the clashes, the area was totally empty, and residents remained inside their houses, or near them.
There were also words about some shots around sunset time far away inside the area, and some other shots every once in a while.
For all of you out there:
There are innocent people in Amiriya, who are mistreated by the US & Iraqi Army as well as the insurgents, and who are stuck amidst all of this chaos.
Please keep them in your good thoughts, and say a prayer for them before you turn off the lights.
31 May 2007
Reuters Article: Rival insurgent groups clash in Baghdad-residents
BAGHDAD, May 31 (Reuters) - Sunni Muslim Iraqi insurgents fought fierce battles on Thursday with al Qaeda-led militants for control of a neighbourhood in Baghdad that has effectively been outside government control for months.
Residents said the fighting in the southwestern district of Amiriya was between the Islamic Army in Iraq, one of the largest insurgent groups fighting U.S. and Iraqi forces, and the Qaeda-led Islamic State in Iraq.
It was not clear how many people had been killed in several days of fighting. Residents gave varying death tolls while the police had no comment. Iraqi security forces rarely venture into the area.
Last month, the Islamic Army urged al Qaeda, which is driven by foreign fighters, to review its policies of indiscriminate killings that have alienated home-grown insurgent groups.
The Islamic Army is mainly made up of former army officers and supporters of Saddam Hussein's Baath Party.
An elderly man, who was too afraid to give his name, said the clashes had prompted many people to flee the area on foot and shop owners to close their stores.
Al Qaeda militants have alienated many Sunni Arabs in Iraq in recent months with their adherence to a hardline form of Islam and their indiscriminate use of car bombs that have killed thousands.
Amiriya residents said violence exploded after Islamic Army members entered the Qaeda-controlled Mulouki mosque and began a heated argument with al Qaeda militants over recent killings.
Soon after they stormed out of the mosque, the minaret's loudspeakers blared out that Abu Teeba, believed to have been al Qaeda's number two in the area, had been assassinated, prompting dozens of Qaeda gunmen to capture and kill at least six Islamic Army insurgents, according to residents.
Residents said al Qaeda had then gone into an Islamic Army stronghold in the disrict and set up base in empty homes.
In western Anbar province, al Qaeda is waging a campaign of shootings and bombings against tribal leaders who have formed an alliance against them.
Insurgent infighting, however, is not common in Baghdad where Shi'ite and Sunni militants are locked in tit-for-tat killings.
The Islamic Army and another insurgent group announced earlier this month they had formed the Jihad and Reform Front.
The front appears to have been established as a rival to the Islamic State in Iraq, which was set up last year by al Qaeda in Iraq and other minor Sunni Arab militant groups.
Residents said the fighting in the southwestern district of Amiriya was between the Islamic Army in Iraq, one of the largest insurgent groups fighting U.S. and Iraqi forces, and the Qaeda-led Islamic State in Iraq.
It was not clear how many people had been killed in several days of fighting. Residents gave varying death tolls while the police had no comment. Iraqi security forces rarely venture into the area.
Last month, the Islamic Army urged al Qaeda, which is driven by foreign fighters, to review its policies of indiscriminate killings that have alienated home-grown insurgent groups.
The Islamic Army is mainly made up of former army officers and supporters of Saddam Hussein's Baath Party.
An elderly man, who was too afraid to give his name, said the clashes had prompted many people to flee the area on foot and shop owners to close their stores.
Al Qaeda militants have alienated many Sunni Arabs in Iraq in recent months with their adherence to a hardline form of Islam and their indiscriminate use of car bombs that have killed thousands.
Amiriya residents said violence exploded after Islamic Army members entered the Qaeda-controlled Mulouki mosque and began a heated argument with al Qaeda militants over recent killings.
Soon after they stormed out of the mosque, the minaret's loudspeakers blared out that Abu Teeba, believed to have been al Qaeda's number two in the area, had been assassinated, prompting dozens of Qaeda gunmen to capture and kill at least six Islamic Army insurgents, according to residents.
Residents said al Qaeda had then gone into an Islamic Army stronghold in the disrict and set up base in empty homes.
In western Anbar province, al Qaeda is waging a campaign of shootings and bombings against tribal leaders who have formed an alliance against them.
Insurgent infighting, however, is not common in Baghdad where Shi'ite and Sunni militants are locked in tit-for-tat killings.
The Islamic Army and another insurgent group announced earlier this month they had formed the Jihad and Reform Front.
The front appears to have been established as a rival to the Islamic State in Iraq, which was set up last year by al Qaeda in Iraq and other minor Sunni Arab militant groups.
AP Article: Iraq residents rise up against al-Qaida (Excerpts)
Iraq residents rise up against al-Qaida
By SINAN SALAHEDDIN, Associated Press Writers
A battle raged Thursday in west Baghdad after residents rose up against al-Qaida and called for U.S. military help to end random gunfire that forced people to huddle indoors and threats that kept students from final exams, a member of the district council said.
The American military also reported the deaths of three more soldiers, two killed Wednesday in a roadside bombing in Baghdad and one who died of wounds from a roadside bomb attack northwest of the capital Tuesday. At least 122 American forces have died in May, the third-deadliest month of the Iraq conflict.
U.S. forces backed by helicopter gunships clashed with suspected al-Qaida gunmen in western Baghdad's primarily Sunni Muslim Amariyah neighborhood in an engagement that lasted several hours, said the district councilman, who would not allow use of his name for fear of al-Qaida retribution.
Casualty figures were not immediately available and there was not immediate word from the U.S. military on the engagement.
But the councilman said the al-Qaida leader in the Amariyah district, known as Haji Hameed, was killed and 45 other fighters were detained.
Members of al-Qaida, who consider the district part of their so-called Islamic State of Iraq, were preventing students from attending final exams, shooting randomly and forcing residents to stay in their homes, the councilman said.
By SINAN SALAHEDDIN, Associated Press Writers
A battle raged Thursday in west Baghdad after residents rose up against al-Qaida and called for U.S. military help to end random gunfire that forced people to huddle indoors and threats that kept students from final exams, a member of the district council said.
The American military also reported the deaths of three more soldiers, two killed Wednesday in a roadside bombing in Baghdad and one who died of wounds from a roadside bomb attack northwest of the capital Tuesday. At least 122 American forces have died in May, the third-deadliest month of the Iraq conflict.
U.S. forces backed by helicopter gunships clashed with suspected al-Qaida gunmen in western Baghdad's primarily Sunni Muslim Amariyah neighborhood in an engagement that lasted several hours, said the district councilman, who would not allow use of his name for fear of al-Qaida retribution.
Casualty figures were not immediately available and there was not immediate word from the U.S. military on the engagement.
But the councilman said the al-Qaida leader in the Amariyah district, known as Haji Hameed, was killed and 45 other fighters were detained.
Members of al-Qaida, who consider the district part of their so-called Islamic State of Iraq, were preventing students from attending final exams, shooting randomly and forcing residents to stay in their homes, the councilman said.
Voices of Iraq Article: Fierce clashes between armed groups in western Baghdad
Baghdad, May 31, (VOI) - Wide-scale clashes broke out on Thursday in al-Amiriya neighborhood in western Baghdad between gunmen believed to be members of al-Ashreen (1920) Revolution Brigades and the Islamic army on the one hand and elements of al-Qaeda on the other, eyewitnesses said.
"The clashes covered most of the main streets, like al-Amal al-Shaabi, al-Munathama and al-Markaz in al-Amiriya neighborhood in western Baghdad," an eyewitness told the independent news agency Voices of Iraq (VOI) over the phone.
"Residents are besieged inside their houses and the clashes still underway," he added."Many masked gunmen arrived to the area seemingly as reinforcements and are engaged in the clashes," he also said, noting that most likely they are from al-Qaeda, backing up their elements.
Another eyewitness said that al-Amiriya preparatory school, where many gunmen hide, was mortared.
A third eyewitness told VOI by telephone that he can see through his house window scores of bodies in the main street near the police station in al-Amiriya.
"The Iraqi army and police forces have not intervened so far, but U.S. helicopters were seen hovering over the area," the third eyewitness said.No word was available from Iraqi police or Multi-National Forces on the clashes.
Al-Aameriya, a Sunni neighborhood, is in the western part of Baghdad where many armed groups that linked to Qaeda in Iraq organization.
Media reports have recently indicated a divorce between al-Qaeda and other armed factions like al-Ashreen (1920) Revolution Brigades and The Islamic Army after accusing Qaeda of being behind the killing of militants belonging to some Iraqi armed groups including the al-Ashreen Revolution Brigades and the Islamic Army.
27 May 2007
BBC Article: Leading Muslim calligrapher shot
By James Shaw
BBC News, Baghdad
One of the Muslim world's leading calligraphers has been shot dead by gunmen in Baghdad.
Khalil al-Zahawi was the most famous practitioner in Iraq of the art of writing classical Arabic script.
He was outside his house in the New Baghdad district of the city on Saturday when he was ambushed by gunmen and killed.
The art of writing classical Arabic script is highly regarded in Iraq and the rest of the Muslim world.
Attack on culture
Mr Zahawi's body has been taken to his home in Diyala province for burial.
In the 1990s, he taught students from all over the Middle East.
It is said that anyone in Iraq who wanted to be considered proficient in Arabic calligraphy had to have his seal of approval.
His death will be seen as another attack on culture and learning by insurgent groups and militias in Iraq who in the past have targeted scientists, doctors and academics.
In a separate incident, police say they have found 12 bodies in Dora in south-east Baghdad.
The victims, aged between their 20s and 40s, had been blindfolded and shot in the head. They also showed signs of torture.
BBC News, Baghdad
One of the Muslim world's leading calligraphers has been shot dead by gunmen in Baghdad.
Khalil al-Zahawi was the most famous practitioner in Iraq of the art of writing classical Arabic script.
He was outside his house in the New Baghdad district of the city on Saturday when he was ambushed by gunmen and killed.
The art of writing classical Arabic script is highly regarded in Iraq and the rest of the Muslim world.
Attack on culture
Mr Zahawi's body has been taken to his home in Diyala province for burial.
In the 1990s, he taught students from all over the Middle East.
It is said that anyone in Iraq who wanted to be considered proficient in Arabic calligraphy had to have his seal of approval.
His death will be seen as another attack on culture and learning by insurgent groups and militias in Iraq who in the past have targeted scientists, doctors and academics.
In a separate incident, police say they have found 12 bodies in Dora in south-east Baghdad.
The victims, aged between their 20s and 40s, had been blindfolded and shot in the head. They also showed signs of torture.
25 May 2007
23 May 2007
The Guardian Article: 'The Bradley, upside down, was on fire. Seven died'
'The Bradley, upside down, was on fire. Seven died'
In pictures: Sean Smith witnesses the ambush
Tuesday May 22, 2007
The Guardian
We were in a private house in Amiriya, a Sunni suburb near Baghdad airport. The soldiers were talking to residents when we heard gunfire and an explosion. It was late afternoon Baghdad time, and my second patrol of the day. A call came through the radio - we headed to the scene.
The Stryker vehicle platoon I was with was acting as the Quick Reaction Force that day, supporting the US military and Iraqi army in the area. When you hear an explosion you don't know what it is. We arrived to find a lot of smoke and moved into a house to assess whether there was shooting still going on.
As we came out, I saw the Bradley, which had been flipped upside down and was on fire. It's a heavy armoured and tracked vehicle, a cross between a tank and an armoured personnel carrier.
You can't patrol that area with Humvees - it's too dangerous. So the troops enter in heavy vehicles and then do foot patrols, visiting houses.
Those troops who could fetched fire extinguishers from their vehicles to try to put the fire out.
There was ordnance - we didn't know how much - heating up and going off inside the vehicle.
Later helicopters hovered over the scene and more US vehicles arrived. But at that point, we were among the first people there - we must have arrived soon after the blast.
The Bradley was destroyed and seven [six US soldiers and a translator] were killed. What did the damage appears to have been an improvised explosive device under the road.
Usually when these things happen there are snipers still in the area who will then take shots at anyone who comes to assist. There was a question of whether the people that had let off the device were still shooting in the area. We didn't know if there would be further small arms attacks - or an RPG attack.
So there was a security issue - not getting shot at while approaching the vehicle as well as being aware of explosives going off inside.
We were on an area of open ground in a neighbourhood of large houses that, before the invasion, would have been one of the more affluent neighbourhoods. A place for doctors and engineers - professional people who probably haven't been able to work for five years now - with a lot of people speaking English.
It is a small place, the equivalent of an attack taking place in a suburb of London. Three people were arrested almost immediately.
Then we carried on searching houses for hours afterwards. In this area, as far as the US military is concerned, a small al-Qaida group is terrorising the neighbourhood and carrying out attacks.
The fight is symptomatic of a larger fight going on.
The Iraqi army surrounding the place is seen as partisan and supportive of Shia factional interests.
People have heard about bombs going off in the mainly crowded Shia areas and markets, but this seems to be a fairly sustained attack on Americans in Baghdad, on a different scale to recent activity in the city.
See more of Sean Smith's work from Iraq guardian.co.uk/inpictures
In pictures: Sean Smith witnesses the ambush
Tuesday May 22, 2007
The Guardian
We were in a private house in Amiriya, a Sunni suburb near Baghdad airport. The soldiers were talking to residents when we heard gunfire and an explosion. It was late afternoon Baghdad time, and my second patrol of the day. A call came through the radio - we headed to the scene.
The Stryker vehicle platoon I was with was acting as the Quick Reaction Force that day, supporting the US military and Iraqi army in the area. When you hear an explosion you don't know what it is. We arrived to find a lot of smoke and moved into a house to assess whether there was shooting still going on.
As we came out, I saw the Bradley, which had been flipped upside down and was on fire. It's a heavy armoured and tracked vehicle, a cross between a tank and an armoured personnel carrier.
You can't patrol that area with Humvees - it's too dangerous. So the troops enter in heavy vehicles and then do foot patrols, visiting houses.
Those troops who could fetched fire extinguishers from their vehicles to try to put the fire out.
There was ordnance - we didn't know how much - heating up and going off inside the vehicle.
Later helicopters hovered over the scene and more US vehicles arrived. But at that point, we were among the first people there - we must have arrived soon after the blast.
The Bradley was destroyed and seven [six US soldiers and a translator] were killed. What did the damage appears to have been an improvised explosive device under the road.
Usually when these things happen there are snipers still in the area who will then take shots at anyone who comes to assist. There was a question of whether the people that had let off the device were still shooting in the area. We didn't know if there would be further small arms attacks - or an RPG attack.
So there was a security issue - not getting shot at while approaching the vehicle as well as being aware of explosives going off inside.
We were on an area of open ground in a neighbourhood of large houses that, before the invasion, would have been one of the more affluent neighbourhoods. A place for doctors and engineers - professional people who probably haven't been able to work for five years now - with a lot of people speaking English.
It is a small place, the equivalent of an attack taking place in a suburb of London. Three people were arrested almost immediately.
Then we carried on searching houses for hours afterwards. In this area, as far as the US military is concerned, a small al-Qaida group is terrorising the neighbourhood and carrying out attacks.
The fight is symptomatic of a larger fight going on.
The Iraqi army surrounding the place is seen as partisan and supportive of Shia factional interests.
People have heard about bombs going off in the mainly crowded Shia areas and markets, but this seems to be a fairly sustained attack on Americans in Baghdad, on a different scale to recent activity in the city.
See more of Sean Smith's work from Iraq guardian.co.uk/inpictures
18 May 2007
Time.com Article: Saving Iraq's Glitziest Neighborhood
Saving Iraq's Glitziest Neighborhood
By Brian Bennett
The streets of Mansour have no names anymore. They are identifiable not by what is there now but by what used to be. In the center of the neighborhood, our armored humvee circles around the crater that once held a 20-ft.-tall statue of Abu Jaffar al-Mansour, the 8th century founder of Baghdad; it was pulverized by a homemade bomb in 2005. To keep their bearings, the troops have taken to identifying routes by the names of 1980s heavy-metal bands. We drive down Bon Jovi, where the barbershop used to be, and pass Skid Row, which had the best falafel in town. At the end of the block is Poison, which four years ago was Mansour's commercial hub, lined with restaurants, shops, a gym and even a liquor store. Now every storefront is shuttered, and there isn't a car on the road. The mostly Sunni residents who live in Mansour have their own name for this spot. They call it "the edge of civilization."
Judging by the area's desolation today, it seems unimaginable that Mansour was once the ritziest neighborhood in Iraq. Populated by the country's merchant class and many officials of Saddam Hussein's regime, the place had an air of entitlement: houses boasted stone columns, and rosebushes hinted at the lush private gardens kept behind the walls. It was also my home for two years, in 2003 and 2004, when TIME's bureau was located there. But today Mansour is boxed in by bloodshed. To the north and south, the Shi'ite death squads of the Jaish al-Mahdi have pushed in block by block over the past year, warning Sunni families to move or be killed. In response, Sunni insurgents have poured in from Anbar province, bringing with them weapons, explosives and suicide bombers. The warring forces have made my old neighborhood one of the most dangerous areas in Baghdad.
Winning it back will be a critical test of the U.S. military's surge in Baghdad. Under Saddam, Mansour and places like it--neighborhoods with names like Amariyah, Ghazaliyah, al-Adil, al-Khadra--were the purlieu of Iraq's educated Sunni élite. As security has deteriorated and sectarian killings have soared, those areas have been overrun by insurgent groups tied to al-Qaeda. The jihadists offer protection to local Sunnis against Shi'ite death squads in exchange for use of the neighborhoods to launch suicide bombings against Shi'ite civilians. But over the past few months, al-Qaeda has been losing support among powerful leaders in the Sunni community.
In an exclusive interview with TIME's Bobby Ghosh on May 12, Harith al-Dari, Iraq's most influential Sunni cleric and a vocal critic of the U.S., said al-Qaeda has "gone too far." He rejects al-Qaeda's vision of a fundamentalist state, saying, "Iraqis will not accept such a system." At the same time, he said, "Sunnis don't know who to believe or trust. They reject al-Qaeda's idea of the so-called Islamic state, but they don't feel protected by the government or the Americans either."
That's why building trust in middle-class Sunni enclaves like Mansour has become a key component of the military's counterinsurgency strategy. "We're in competition with al-Qaeda," says Lieut. Colonel Dale Kuehl, "for who can protect the Sunnis better." Baghdad's Sunni population is largely confined to a narrow band west of the Tigris, extending from Mansour to the Baghdad airport. Kuehl and his 1st Battalion, 5th Cavalry Regiment live in the middle of the Sunni stronghold, dug into a former police station. A floor-to-ceiling map of west Baghdad in Kuehl's operations center is marked with palm-size red arrows that show the Sunni population being squeezed top and bottom by Shi'ite militia. Coalition efforts to change the minds of disenfranchised Sunnis, Kuehl says, aren't getting much help from the Shi'ite-led government. In the Sunni enclave of Amariyah, for example, his unit spent $180,000 refurbishing the local bank branch so residents could get paid, but the Finance Ministry hasn't sent any cash back to the branch. "There's an effort to deprive Sunnis here of services," Kuehl says.
Still, the U.S. may at last be seeing signs of progress. Compared with the streets last fall, residents tell me, a relative calm has returned to Mansour. Fewer bodies are being found every day, and it is no longer routine to see gunmen shouldering rocket launchers in the street. One reason the violence has subsided, of course, is that many of the neighborhoods that saw the bloodiest sectarian cleansing are no longer mixed.
Even under the most hopeful scenarios, it's doubtful that Mansour and places like it will ever be the same. Pulling out of Kuehl's headquarters, our humvee drives through several inches of dark green sludge that has been seeping out of a broken sewage pipe for a week. We turn toward the center of Mansour, driving along a familiar set of railroad tracks. Looking across the gravel berms, I can see our old street. I see the empty corner where a group of brothers used to grill giant splayed carp, called masgouf, over open coals every evening. Down farther is the flat-roofed house where we lived and worked. I haven't been back there since March 24, 2004, when our bureau manager, Omar Kamal, was gunned down on his way to work, a sign that the war had caught up to us too.
Back on route Poison, heading to the base, the soldiers are venting their fear by ticking off a litany of ordinary objects that might be hiding a bomb. "Man, I hate this road," says one. It's hard to love a place that can get you killed. The tragedy of Mansour is that there once was a time when hope wasn't so elusive.
15 May 2007
The Day I Went Back to College
This afternoon, I was sort of bored. One of my friends at work, who is also a student at an evening college, said to me: "Why don't you come with me to college?"
- "Alright!" I said, and there we went.
After several meetings, we walked around in the complex, and looked around. Then it turned out that he should go into a lecture. My friend said again: - "Come. Let me tell the professor so that you attend the lecture."
I asked him: - "Are you sure it's ok?!"
- "Sure!"
The lecturer was in fact standing nearby. She was about my age, looking serious, but you could actually see a nice person behind her seriousness.
Anyway, we went into the lecture, and we sat in the front row right in front of the lecturer's podium. Two students read a report they wrote about the NATO.
Later on, the lecturer asked the students about the latest international news. Now, being an internet savvy as myself, I knew the answers to her questions; however, being a guest at that lecture made me choose not to; and take a wait-and-see attitude.
I was surprised to see that almost none of the students answered her questions, and that they were silent! She asked about Tony Blair’s stepping down, and they didn’t know. She asked about the Congress’ latest Iraq discussions, and they didn’t know that either. I think that they wouldn’t know about France elections either, and that’s probably why she preferred not to ask.
Oh God! What do those students really follow in the news?!
The lecturer started explaining the reasons behind Tony Blair’s stepping down. I couldn’t agree more with her points of view regarding the reasons behind Blair’s decision. They were well-put. I was sort of disappointed with and grateful for the students’ failure to take part in the lecture; disappointed because the lecture was kind of one-sided, and grateful also because the lecture was kind of one-sided!
Now, although the lecture was about 80% in Kurdish, I was following up with the lecture quite well.
By this time, the professor was as much frustrated with the students as myself, and said to them: “Why don’t you take part? Are you not interested in the lecture?”
Grrr! to them, I would definitely say :)
By this time, the lecture was near signing off time, unfortunately.
I went at the end of it to greet the lecturer, and to tell her how nice it was to attend the lecture. She said like-wise, that it was nice to see a new face in the lecture. Then we had a short conversation about where did I learn my English and where did she learn her Arabic, and so on.
As I left that hall, I verily realized that the time I spent there was one of the best times I had for a long time, although it wasn’t a partying time! For that, I thank my friend, the coincidence, and Mr. Blair! But first and foremost, I thank that bright and elegant lecturer!
- "Alright!" I said, and there we went.
After several meetings, we walked around in the complex, and looked around. Then it turned out that he should go into a lecture. My friend said again: - "Come. Let me tell the professor so that you attend the lecture."
I asked him: - "Are you sure it's ok?!"
- "Sure!"
The lecturer was in fact standing nearby. She was about my age, looking serious, but you could actually see a nice person behind her seriousness.
Anyway, we went into the lecture, and we sat in the front row right in front of the lecturer's podium. Two students read a report they wrote about the NATO.
Later on, the lecturer asked the students about the latest international news. Now, being an internet savvy as myself, I knew the answers to her questions; however, being a guest at that lecture made me choose not to; and take a wait-and-see attitude.
I was surprised to see that almost none of the students answered her questions, and that they were silent! She asked about Tony Blair’s stepping down, and they didn’t know. She asked about the Congress’ latest Iraq discussions, and they didn’t know that either. I think that they wouldn’t know about France elections either, and that’s probably why she preferred not to ask.
Oh God! What do those students really follow in the news?!
The lecturer started explaining the reasons behind Tony Blair’s stepping down. I couldn’t agree more with her points of view regarding the reasons behind Blair’s decision. They were well-put. I was sort of disappointed with and grateful for the students’ failure to take part in the lecture; disappointed because the lecture was kind of one-sided, and grateful also because the lecture was kind of one-sided!
Now, although the lecture was about 80% in Kurdish, I was following up with the lecture quite well.
By this time, the professor was as much frustrated with the students as myself, and said to them: “Why don’t you take part? Are you not interested in the lecture?”
Grrr! to them, I would definitely say :)
By this time, the lecture was near signing off time, unfortunately.
I went at the end of it to greet the lecturer, and to tell her how nice it was to attend the lecture. She said like-wise, that it was nice to see a new face in the lecture. Then we had a short conversation about where did I learn my English and where did she learn her Arabic, and so on.
As I left that hall, I verily realized that the time I spent there was one of the best times I had for a long time, although it wasn’t a partying time! For that, I thank my friend, the coincidence, and Mr. Blair! But first and foremost, I thank that bright and elegant lecturer!
12 May 2007
Washington Times Article: Stryker patrol teams on front line in Iraq
Stryker patrol teams on front line in Iraq
By Sharon Behn
The Washington Times
Fear or friendly faces
BAGHDAD — Sunlight is just beginning to filter onto the trash-strewn streets of Amariyah, a neighborhood within the Sunni district of Mansour, when the soldiers pile out of their vehicles, weapons pointed into the cool morning air.
The streets are deserted as the morning curfew is still in effect, making it easier to check buildings.
Apart from searching for weapons caches and insurgents, the soldiers are trying to send a message to the residents: They are there to secure their neighborhood.
While patrolling, and later clearing houses, the soldiers are also trying to pick up "atmospherics," or information, and gain a better understanding of ordinary Iraqis' concerns.
"For the most part, people want us there," said 1st Lt. John Lowe of Bravo Company, 2nd Platoon.
The morning started at 2:30 a.m. with operations officers of the 2nd Battalion, 3rd Infantry Division, 3-2 Stryker Brigade Combat Team sitting around a plain table in one of the camp's tents staring at a detailed aerial map of Baghdad.
They all stand as Battalion Commander Lt. Col. Barry Huggins walks in with Command Sgt. Major Alan Bjerke, then sit down to listen to the latest intelligence reports and plans for the day.
Routes are checked, weather checked, maps are checked, and the day's mission is made clear.
Outside, soldiers start throwing on their body armor, grab their helmets and whatever snacks they brought and climb into the back of their 19-ton, eight-wheeled armored vehicles for another 15-hour day of patrolling Baghdad.
By early morning, the team heads toward an abandoned house reportedly used by insurgents, where they meet up with their Iraqi army counterparts. The troops find a propane gas tank bomb and propaganda leaflets strewn inside the filthy house, piled high with dirty clothes and old photographs.
The Iraqi soldiers proudly pull everything onto the street, not understanding the U.S. request that they leave the scene untouched until it can be photographed — evidence that will be needed if anyone is detained in connection with the bomb.
A "different fight"
Once the house is cleared and secured, the two forces start asking the neighbors who used the house and where they have gone. Many are unwilling to say anything. But one man welcomes the soldiers into his home, waits until the Iraqi army has left, then opens up to the U.S. soldiers.
"Everybody is scared of the Iraq army," says the man, watching the U.S. soldiers as his wife brings in small glasses of sweet tea. "When you leave, they will come here and ask us what did we tell the American forces."
Back outside, the Stryker patrol team clears the streets and waits on a rooftop for the explosives experts to detonate the propane bomb. Suddenly, the quiet is broken by the sound of gunfire. The soldiers scan the horizon, seeing nothing. Across the street, an Iraqi man sits unflinching on a yellow-patterned sofa-swing, holding his child.
The patrol goes back to work, stopping again just briefly at the sound of a loud bang to watch the smoke rising into the air from a distant car bomb. It's 9:30 a.m.
For 24-year-old Spc. Carl Moore of Bravo Company, 2nd Platoon, this Baghdad is utterly changed from the city he encountered on his first deployment.
"It's a completely different fight," he said. "The threats are from so many directions, and intimidation [of the people] is a big thing, it's huge."
The fight, he said, is "all an intelligence battle now. It's frustrating more than anything."
The first attempt to detonate the bomb has failed, and the patrol moves on to clear some abandoned buildings near the main street. The soldiers pile into a dusty three-story apartment complex, kick down the door to a first-floor apartment, smash the glass out of the balcony windows facing the street and position themselves.
Then comes the call. Explosives experts are about to try again to detonate the propane tank bomb. Everyone gets behind a wall and waits. "Fire in the hole" crackles over the radio, followed by a terrifically large explosion.
The soldiers file out of the building one by one to the waiting Strykers, hugging the outside walls. Suddenly there is a high-pitched whine and a pop: Sniper fire, right above their heads. Some duck back into the building, while others try to figure out the direction of the fire. The sniper is never located.
By Sharon Behn
The Washington Times
Fear or friendly faces
BAGHDAD — Sunlight is just beginning to filter onto the trash-strewn streets of Amariyah, a neighborhood within the Sunni district of Mansour, when the soldiers pile out of their vehicles, weapons pointed into the cool morning air.
The streets are deserted as the morning curfew is still in effect, making it easier to check buildings.
Apart from searching for weapons caches and insurgents, the soldiers are trying to send a message to the residents: They are there to secure their neighborhood.
While patrolling, and later clearing houses, the soldiers are also trying to pick up "atmospherics," or information, and gain a better understanding of ordinary Iraqis' concerns.
"For the most part, people want us there," said 1st Lt. John Lowe of Bravo Company, 2nd Platoon.
The morning started at 2:30 a.m. with operations officers of the 2nd Battalion, 3rd Infantry Division, 3-2 Stryker Brigade Combat Team sitting around a plain table in one of the camp's tents staring at a detailed aerial map of Baghdad.
They all stand as Battalion Commander Lt. Col. Barry Huggins walks in with Command Sgt. Major Alan Bjerke, then sit down to listen to the latest intelligence reports and plans for the day.
Routes are checked, weather checked, maps are checked, and the day's mission is made clear.
Outside, soldiers start throwing on their body armor, grab their helmets and whatever snacks they brought and climb into the back of their 19-ton, eight-wheeled armored vehicles for another 15-hour day of patrolling Baghdad.
By early morning, the team heads toward an abandoned house reportedly used by insurgents, where they meet up with their Iraqi army counterparts. The troops find a propane gas tank bomb and propaganda leaflets strewn inside the filthy house, piled high with dirty clothes and old photographs.
The Iraqi soldiers proudly pull everything onto the street, not understanding the U.S. request that they leave the scene untouched until it can be photographed — evidence that will be needed if anyone is detained in connection with the bomb.
A "different fight"
Once the house is cleared and secured, the two forces start asking the neighbors who used the house and where they have gone. Many are unwilling to say anything. But one man welcomes the soldiers into his home, waits until the Iraqi army has left, then opens up to the U.S. soldiers.
"Everybody is scared of the Iraq army," says the man, watching the U.S. soldiers as his wife brings in small glasses of sweet tea. "When you leave, they will come here and ask us what did we tell the American forces."
Back outside, the Stryker patrol team clears the streets and waits on a rooftop for the explosives experts to detonate the propane bomb. Suddenly, the quiet is broken by the sound of gunfire. The soldiers scan the horizon, seeing nothing. Across the street, an Iraqi man sits unflinching on a yellow-patterned sofa-swing, holding his child.
The patrol goes back to work, stopping again just briefly at the sound of a loud bang to watch the smoke rising into the air from a distant car bomb. It's 9:30 a.m.
For 24-year-old Spc. Carl Moore of Bravo Company, 2nd Platoon, this Baghdad is utterly changed from the city he encountered on his first deployment.
"It's a completely different fight," he said. "The threats are from so many directions, and intimidation [of the people] is a big thing, it's huge."
The fight, he said, is "all an intelligence battle now. It's frustrating more than anything."
The first attempt to detonate the bomb has failed, and the patrol moves on to clear some abandoned buildings near the main street. The soldiers pile into a dusty three-story apartment complex, kick down the door to a first-floor apartment, smash the glass out of the balcony windows facing the street and position themselves.
Then comes the call. Explosives experts are about to try again to detonate the propane tank bomb. Everyone gets behind a wall and waits. "Fire in the hole" crackles over the radio, followed by a terrifically large explosion.
The soldiers file out of the building one by one to the waiting Strykers, hugging the outside walls. Suddenly there is a high-pitched whine and a pop: Sniper fire, right above their heads. Some duck back into the building, while others try to figure out the direction of the fire. The sniper is never located.
05 May 2007
news.com.au Article: Militants blow up radio station - again
MILITANTS blew up an independent radio station in Baghdad on Friday, destroying the offices but causing no casualties, its director said, a day after heavily armed men killed one person and wounded two at the same station.
Karim Yousef, the acting director-general of Radio Dijla in western Al-Jamia district, told Reuters the blast occurred at around 10 p.m. He said the station, the target of many previous assaults, was empty when the attack took place.
A police source said the gunmen first stole equipment and then set off a bomb.
"There was nobody at the station. All the employees had left yesterday," Mr Yousef said.
On Thursday, dozens of armed gunmen stormed the station, killing one guard and setting off an explosive that destroyed broadcast equipment and knocked the station off the air.
Iraq remains the most dangerous country for journalists, and 46 were killed last year, mostly Iraqis, in bombings, abductions and drive-by shootings, twice as many as in 2005, according to the Vienna-based International Press Institute (IPI).
Journalists are repeatedly attacked by sectarian death squads and insurgents intent on silencing their voices, media watch groups say.
Radio Dijla
Radio Dijla Live
Karim Yousef, the acting director-general of Radio Dijla in western Al-Jamia district, told Reuters the blast occurred at around 10 p.m. He said the station, the target of many previous assaults, was empty when the attack took place.
A police source said the gunmen first stole equipment and then set off a bomb.
"There was nobody at the station. All the employees had left yesterday," Mr Yousef said.
On Thursday, dozens of armed gunmen stormed the station, killing one guard and setting off an explosive that destroyed broadcast equipment and knocked the station off the air.
Iraq remains the most dangerous country for journalists, and 46 were killed last year, mostly Iraqis, in bombings, abductions and drive-by shootings, twice as many as in 2005, according to the Vienna-based International Press Institute (IPI).
Journalists are repeatedly attacked by sectarian death squads and insurgents intent on silencing their voices, media watch groups say.
Radio Dijla
Radio Dijla Live
02 May 2007
Washington Post Article: In Baghdad, commuters take to water
WP: In Baghdad, commuters take to water
Commuting by river dinghy among many daily adjustments to war
By Joshua Partlow
The Washington Post
BAGHDAD - By now they're used to Humvees clogging the highways and blast walls blocking the alleys. Some barely flinch when trucks detonate or mortar shells crash down on the pavement. But when the bridges start falling into the water, determined Baghdad commuters are forced to improvise.
Which is why a 50-year-old shoe salesman is stepping gingerly onto a weathered wooden boat bobbing in the Tigris River, perhaps the only place in Baghdad where one need not worry about an explosion underfoot. "There are no bombs in the water," he said.
To those accustomed to the barren, brown expanse of the Tigris, in recent years primarily the domain of floating corpses and speeding patrol boats, the dozens of skiffs now traversing the river are a striking sight. About 15 feet long and powered by outboard motors, the boats are one more solution, however primitive, that Iraqis have devised to survive their daily rounds in Baghdad.
"When you walk down the street, you don't know if the person next to you is wearing an explosive belt or if there's a bomb in the next car," said the salesman, who gave only his nickname, Abu Zaid Hamdani, out of fear. "I feel more comfortable on the water. I feel psychologically safe."
From the boys selling black-market gasoline from donkey carts, to the abandoned movie theaters, restaurants and liquor stores, from the overflowing sewage to the dwindling food rations, Baghdad has lost its place as a pinnacle of Middle East modernity. Existence has become more rudimentary.
"The people of Baghdad were living on electricity and technology, and now we are stagnated," said Um Mohammed, a mother of three who was shopping in the Kadhimiyah neighborhood for a traditional oven called a tanoor. "Instead of improving ourselves, we are returning back to the Stone Age."
Um Mohammed, who asked that only her nickname be published, had never used a tanoor, a waist-high clay gourd for baking bread over smoldering palm-tree coals. Her bread came from a bakery. But after spending $70 a month on bread for her family, a financial burden made worse by the rising price of cooking gas, she decided to learn.
"I'll probably burn my hand," she said. "We are living in Baghdad, the capital of Iraq, of prosperity. Where is the prosperity?"
River becomes a sectarian barrierIraqis remember a different Tigris in the decades before the war, back when double-decker party barges cruised past high-rise hotels on warm evenings. For a time, the Ministry of Transportation ran ferries along the river, amid fishermen hoisting fat carp from the silty water.
Back then, the men in the wooden skiffs also plied the water, but now their role has grown into one of necessity, rather than just convenience or amusement. A popular central shopping district along the eastern shore -- Shorja market and Rashid and Jumhuriyah streets -- is now barred to vehicles for fear of bombs. In the past month, three of the 13 bridges spanning the Tigris have been bombed. The gravest attack occurred April 12, when a suicide truck bomb exploded on the Sarafiya span, plunging the steel structure, and several drivers, into the water.
The Tigris, which snakes from north to south through Baghdad, is now as much a sectarian barrier as a physical one, dividing the predominantly Sunni neighborhoods on the west side from the Shiites to the east. For those who still must cross, there is Muhammed Abdul Kareem.
Trained as an accountant, Abdul Kareem, 35, has found nothing in his field in the wartime economy, so he spent $2,300 for a dinghy, charges 75 cents a ride and ekes out a living of about $9 a day as a boat captain.
"There are many more boats now on the river," he said as he motored his craft across the 300-yard expanse toward the western shore, his 3-year-old son, Abbas, nestled between his legs. "The main reason is the traffic is impossible."
The arrival of thousands of U.S. and Iraqi soldiers over the past two months, with their new checkpoints, blocked roads and vehicle searches, has made driving in Baghdad like swimming through mud.
Traffic lights don't work; lanes are not observed. A whole economy has sprung up of people selling napkins, gum, balloons, cigarettes, windshield shades, perfume and newspapers to accommodate those bogged down in traffic. It is not uncommon to see cars jump medians and blithely head straight into oncoming traffic, forcing motorists not eager for a head-on collision to drive around them. There may be laws, but there are definitely no rules.
The gridlock finally drove Ibrahim Muhammed down to the riverbank. "All the roads are closed, the bridges are being bombed," he said. "What else can we do?"
'Just smelling the air'Muhammed, 27, owns a clothing shop in Mansour, west of the river, but buys his wholesale goods from the shops near Najar Street, on the east bank. So he took a boat to the market, bought boxes of tracksuits and bags of shoes, and loaded them on the boat for the ride home. Others ferry furniture and groceries and children's toys. When government jobs let out in the afternoon, lines form along the shore of those waiting for an evening crossing.
But this is no paddle boat cruise among the lily pads. Stray bullets plunge into the water and at times lodge in the boats. The ferries must navigate past the occasional bloated, blindfolded corpse. After the Sarafiya bridge explosion, Iraqi soldiers fired warning shots at the water taxis to keep them away from the bridges, several people said.
"They're afraid we might be going there to bomb the bridges," said Mohammed Mohammed, 23, a boat captain who lives on the west bank of the Tigris.
During the worst fighting in Baghdad, the ferry operators stopped their trips completely, but the demand is so high now that they will brave nearly any risk, said Dawoud Salim, 27, a boat captain. And there are benefits to his line of work, especially in this shuttered city.
"It really is nice to be outside on the river, just smelling the air," he said.
Special correspondents Saad al-Izzi and Naseer Mehdawi contributed to this report.
Commuting by river dinghy among many daily adjustments to war
By Joshua Partlow
The Washington Post
BAGHDAD - By now they're used to Humvees clogging the highways and blast walls blocking the alleys. Some barely flinch when trucks detonate or mortar shells crash down on the pavement. But when the bridges start falling into the water, determined Baghdad commuters are forced to improvise.
Which is why a 50-year-old shoe salesman is stepping gingerly onto a weathered wooden boat bobbing in the Tigris River, perhaps the only place in Baghdad where one need not worry about an explosion underfoot. "There are no bombs in the water," he said.
To those accustomed to the barren, brown expanse of the Tigris, in recent years primarily the domain of floating corpses and speeding patrol boats, the dozens of skiffs now traversing the river are a striking sight. About 15 feet long and powered by outboard motors, the boats are one more solution, however primitive, that Iraqis have devised to survive their daily rounds in Baghdad.
"When you walk down the street, you don't know if the person next to you is wearing an explosive belt or if there's a bomb in the next car," said the salesman, who gave only his nickname, Abu Zaid Hamdani, out of fear. "I feel more comfortable on the water. I feel psychologically safe."
From the boys selling black-market gasoline from donkey carts, to the abandoned movie theaters, restaurants and liquor stores, from the overflowing sewage to the dwindling food rations, Baghdad has lost its place as a pinnacle of Middle East modernity. Existence has become more rudimentary.
"The people of Baghdad were living on electricity and technology, and now we are stagnated," said Um Mohammed, a mother of three who was shopping in the Kadhimiyah neighborhood for a traditional oven called a tanoor. "Instead of improving ourselves, we are returning back to the Stone Age."
Um Mohammed, who asked that only her nickname be published, had never used a tanoor, a waist-high clay gourd for baking bread over smoldering palm-tree coals. Her bread came from a bakery. But after spending $70 a month on bread for her family, a financial burden made worse by the rising price of cooking gas, she decided to learn.
"I'll probably burn my hand," she said. "We are living in Baghdad, the capital of Iraq, of prosperity. Where is the prosperity?"
River becomes a sectarian barrierIraqis remember a different Tigris in the decades before the war, back when double-decker party barges cruised past high-rise hotels on warm evenings. For a time, the Ministry of Transportation ran ferries along the river, amid fishermen hoisting fat carp from the silty water.
Back then, the men in the wooden skiffs also plied the water, but now their role has grown into one of necessity, rather than just convenience or amusement. A popular central shopping district along the eastern shore -- Shorja market and Rashid and Jumhuriyah streets -- is now barred to vehicles for fear of bombs. In the past month, three of the 13 bridges spanning the Tigris have been bombed. The gravest attack occurred April 12, when a suicide truck bomb exploded on the Sarafiya span, plunging the steel structure, and several drivers, into the water.
The Tigris, which snakes from north to south through Baghdad, is now as much a sectarian barrier as a physical one, dividing the predominantly Sunni neighborhoods on the west side from the Shiites to the east. For those who still must cross, there is Muhammed Abdul Kareem.
Trained as an accountant, Abdul Kareem, 35, has found nothing in his field in the wartime economy, so he spent $2,300 for a dinghy, charges 75 cents a ride and ekes out a living of about $9 a day as a boat captain.
"There are many more boats now on the river," he said as he motored his craft across the 300-yard expanse toward the western shore, his 3-year-old son, Abbas, nestled between his legs. "The main reason is the traffic is impossible."
The arrival of thousands of U.S. and Iraqi soldiers over the past two months, with their new checkpoints, blocked roads and vehicle searches, has made driving in Baghdad like swimming through mud.
Traffic lights don't work; lanes are not observed. A whole economy has sprung up of people selling napkins, gum, balloons, cigarettes, windshield shades, perfume and newspapers to accommodate those bogged down in traffic. It is not uncommon to see cars jump medians and blithely head straight into oncoming traffic, forcing motorists not eager for a head-on collision to drive around them. There may be laws, but there are definitely no rules.
The gridlock finally drove Ibrahim Muhammed down to the riverbank. "All the roads are closed, the bridges are being bombed," he said. "What else can we do?"
'Just smelling the air'Muhammed, 27, owns a clothing shop in Mansour, west of the river, but buys his wholesale goods from the shops near Najar Street, on the east bank. So he took a boat to the market, bought boxes of tracksuits and bags of shoes, and loaded them on the boat for the ride home. Others ferry furniture and groceries and children's toys. When government jobs let out in the afternoon, lines form along the shore of those waiting for an evening crossing.
But this is no paddle boat cruise among the lily pads. Stray bullets plunge into the water and at times lodge in the boats. The ferries must navigate past the occasional bloated, blindfolded corpse. After the Sarafiya bridge explosion, Iraqi soldiers fired warning shots at the water taxis to keep them away from the bridges, several people said.
"They're afraid we might be going there to bomb the bridges," said Mohammed Mohammed, 23, a boat captain who lives on the west bank of the Tigris.
During the worst fighting in Baghdad, the ferry operators stopped their trips completely, but the demand is so high now that they will brave nearly any risk, said Dawoud Salim, 27, a boat captain. And there are benefits to his line of work, especially in this shuttered city.
"It really is nice to be outside on the river, just smelling the air," he said.
Special correspondents Saad al-Izzi and Naseer Mehdawi contributed to this report.
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