By Kim Sengupta
The Independent, 13 December 2005
"The worst thing is knowing that you can no longer delude yourself that things are going to get better. It is an awful way to exist, living without hope," said Nadia al-Hayali, sitting at her home in Baghdad with the doors bolted, a refuge from a society disintegrating all around.
This time last year there were still the kidnappings and the robberies, the gunfights and the suicide bombings, but Nadia and her husband, Mohammed, still had hope. After a couple of years of this, they were convinced that things would get better in Iraq.
But the flickering optimism has been all but extinguished for the al-Hayalis and their friends and relations - the type of middle-class families who should be the driving force in what is, according to George Bush and Tony Blair, a brave new Iraq.
Many have left in the past 12 months for Jordan - there are now 400,000 Iraqis living there, with thousands of others in Syria and the Gulf states - although, as the bombings in Amman showed, there is no escape from the mayhem. Others have gone into internal exile, not venturing outdoors unless they have to.
The sounds of explosion and gunfire are now just background noises. Every day people die in bombings, but there are also discoveries of bodies, many with their hands tied behind their backs, many mutilated. These are the victims of either the insurgents or death squads said to be operated by the security forces. People are arrested and disappear, some never to be seen again. Last month 175 abducted men were found in cells in a ministry of interior building, most had been tortured, some with their skin flayed.
Last year I visited the al-Hayalis' home in prosperous al-Jamiyah quite openly. I had even stopped at Ali al-Hamdani's celebrated pastry shop around the corner on the way.
This time the trip had to be much more carefully planned, our car going into the driveway of the house to avoid anyone seeing us going in.
In nearby streets we saw groups of men in dark glasses cruising around in Audis and BMWs. They could be insurgents, looking for American or Iraqi police convoys to attack before disappearing into the maze of side roads in their high powered cars, or criminals carrying out abductions for profit.
Circumstances have changed for the worse for Nadia, 39, Mohammed, 40, and their son Abdullah, eight, and daughter Dahlia, six. The International School, where Nadia used to teach, and the children used to attend has been shut down due to lack of funds. The school, secular and co-educational, preparing pupils for further education abroad, should have received support from Western agencies. But appeals to the British Council and the American embassy yielded nothing.
Mohammed was an official with the international aid organisation, Merlin. Like other such agencies it has all but withdrawn for lack of funding. In the past the couple jointly earned $1,100 (£630)a month, good money by Iraqi standards. Now they earn a single income of around $500. Prices, meanwhile, have kept rising since the war.
The lawlessness is ever present. Nadia's uncle, who came back from London to stand in the elections and become a member of the National Assembly, was abducted by gunmen. He was released on the payment of $600,000 ransom.
But it is not just the well known or the wealthy who are victims. Most of those kidnapped are Iraqis and ransom has become one of the commonest form of criminal earnings.
The al-Hayalis have thought of moving abroad. They do not think they will have too much difficulty finding jobs. Both are fluent in English and Nadia also speaks French. Both have lived abroad, Mohammed in the US and Nadia, who was born in Montpellier, in France and London. But this will entail an initial separation, with Mohammed staying behind in Baghdad, which Nadia does not want. One of Nadia's uncles, Isham Ashawi, was Iraq's former ambassador to Britain but went into exile after refusing to continue serving Saddam Hussein's regime.
Nadia was initially in favour of the war. "I thought that whatever the excuses given for the war it would be good to have freedom for people to express themselves," she said.
"Even when things started to go wrong I thought they would turn around. But now I feel we have gained nothing except endless deaths and destruction."
Mohammed had opposed the war. "But I admit saying last year that it will get better in the next two years. I thought with the elections things would settle down and there would be a new start. The reverse has happened."
The couple say that corruption is worse than it was during Saddam's time. "People in power are out to get as much as they can for themselves," said Mohammed, "There are people who are making an awful lot of money out of the occupation."
Some of them can be seen at the Hunting Club, a select private establishment with high walls and armed guards which is the only relatively safe place where the middle and affluent classes of Baghdad can meet in public. Started by Saddam and his Baath party colleagues the club included academics as members - including Nadia and Mohammed's parents.
On a recent visit some two thousand members were present at the club in celebration of Eid to use the open-air restaurants, bars, tennis courts and swimming pools. Among them were politicians and businessmen with their bodyguards.
"We used to get members of the regime coming here in the old days," said Mohammed. "They were hardly nice people but their bodyguards either stayed outside or they were more discreet with their guns. Even now you have to be quite careful, you simply do not know who is listening."
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Citation: Kim Sengupta. "'It's an awful way to exist, without hope... We've gained nothing but endless deaths'," The Independent, 13 December 2005.
Original URL: http://news.independent.co.uk/world/middle_east/article332816.ece
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