Falloujans Get an Unsettling Look at Their City
Refugees eager to return change their minds after seeing
the ruin.
Will balloting be feasible?
By Edmund Sanders
Times Staff Writer
December 30, 2004
BAGHDAD — Yasser Abbas Atiya swore he'd sooner sleep on the streets of
his beloved hometown of Fallouja than spend another night in the
squalid Baghdad shelter where his family had been squatting.
Thirty minutes after he returned home this week, however, Atiya
had seen enough. He left in disgust and had no plans to go back.
"I couldn't stand it," the grocer said. "I was born in that town.
I know every inch of it. But when I got there, I didn't recognize it."
Lakes of sewage in the streets. The smell of corpses inside
charred buildings. No water or electricity. Long waits and thorough
searches by U.S. troops at checkpoints. Warnings to watch out for land
mines and booby traps. Occasional gunfire between troops and insurgents.
"I thought, 'This is not my town,' " Atiya said Tuesday after
going back to the abandoned Baghdad clinic his family shares with
nearly 100 other displaced Falloujans. "How can I take my family to
live there?"
The initial clamor by an estimated 200,000 refugees to return to
the homes they had fled last month is being replaced by a bitter
resignation that the city remains largely uninhabitable and unsafe.
Hopes of quickly restoring normality to the restive Sunni Muslim city
are fading, raising questions about whether Fallouja will be ready to
participate in the Jan. 30 national election.
"We have no intention of going back," said Yasser Mowfauk Abbas,
20, a university student who was among the first residents allowed in
to inspect their homes. "No one is staying."
U.S. and Iraqi officials say that they tried to warn Falloujans
that it was too soon to return, but that they let them go last week
after a groundswell of protest. Officials also face pressure to reopen
the city before the election. The U.S.-led invasion of the city last
month was prompted, in part, by a desire to clear the way for the vote.
"We told them that until now there are areas where debris and
wreckage are still not removed," said Kasim Daoud, Iraq's interim
security minister. "We also told them that there are some streets that
contain land mines. But our dear people insisted that they must return
back."
Nearly 15,000 residents have reentered Fallouja during the last
week, military figures show. The returnees have been given the option
of staying permanently or leaving by the end of the day.
Military officials said they were not keeping track of how many were
opting to stay.
U.S. Marines say they are working to make the city livable again
but are grappling with decades of neglect and decay, as well as the
results of last month's bombardment.
More than 700 workers have been hired for the rebuilding effort.
Aid centers distribute bottled water, food and blankets. On Wednesday,
a hospital reopened.
Military leaders are mindful that drawing Falloujans back into
Iraqi society and into the election would send a powerful signal that
the country was headed in a positive direction.
"We are attacking reconstruction efforts with the same grit, sweat
and determination used to eliminate the malicious threat posed by the
terrorists and insurgents," said Lt. Col. Dan Wilson, deputy operations
officer of the 1st Marine Expeditionary Force in Fallouja. "We want to
help the residents, so they will be able to live in peace and enjoy the
privilege of voting in the upcoming elections."
But the effort to win the hearts and minds of the local population
has fallen flat as soon as returning homeowners see the burned
buildings, piles of rubble and heavy troop presence. The residents say
voting is the last thing on their minds.
"What election?" Atiya, 35, asked. "I'm a refugee. How can a
refugee take part in an election? Let me get back home and then I'll
talk about elections."
After enduring three hours of military checkpoints and searches,
Atiya and two brothers anxiously reentered the city Monday, uncertain
what to expect.
U.S. troops handed them leaflets warning against a myriad of
dangers and advising them that the U.S. military could not guarantee
their safety. Don't drink the water, the leaflets warned, or eat food
left behind.
Every resident is required to carry a small card outlining special
new rules for the city. There's a 6 p.m. curfew. No weapons are
allowed. Graffiti and public gatherings are illegal. Cars and visitors
are banned.
Males between the ages of 15 and 55 must carry special
identification cards. U.S. military officials have announced plans to
use fingerprinting and retina scans to prevent insurgents from
returning.
As Atiya and his brothers traveled through the city and saw the
destruction, they braced for the worst. When he caught a glimpse of his
roof, Atiya's first emotion was relief. The house was still there.
As they drew closer, however, Atiya and his brothers began to
curse. A gaping hole in the two-story house appeared to have been
caused by a tank, whose tracks were visible in the mud, he said. Most
of the furniture was smashed. "Half my house was demolished," Atiya
said.
In the kitchen, cabinets had been ripped from the walls, he said.
Others were emptied of their contents, which lay in heaps on the floor.
"Every dish was broken, every cup, every plate, as if someone had
just stood there breaking one dish after another," said Atiya's brother
Raaid Abbas, 37. "Why?"
The brothers don't know who ransacked the house, but they blame
American troops, who they say left muddy boot prints.
Military officials expressed sympathy with the plight of returning
residents but said the blame should rest with militants who took
control of the city and continued to hide among the population.
"Our forces never intentionally damage structures or homes," said
Wilson, the deputy operations officer. "After all, we, in partnership
with the [interim Iraqi government], will be at the forefront of
assisting in the restoration and cleanup of Fallouja."
The brothers quickly determined that the house, where all three
had been born, was uninhabitable. They had wanted to leave with some
supplies, such as a kerosene heater, for use at the Baghdad shelter.
But in an effort to prevent theft and looting, U.S. troops
prohibited residents from removing property from the city. The most the
brothers could do was sneak out some extra clothing, which they wore as
they left.
When the brothers returned to Baghdad and recounted their stories,
other Falloujans shook their heads in amazement.
"After I heard what they said, I'm not willing to go back," said Latif
Jasim, 45.
Atiya broke the bad news to his wife and four children. His
youngest daughter, Noora, 4, had trouble understanding why she couldn't
return home. "I want my dresses," she said, hiding shyly behind an
older brother.
Atiya said the family had no choice but to stay in the makeshift
shelter until conditions in Fallouja improved. "We are fed up with
being here," he said. "We just want to go home."
