Fighting the Americans

Julius Strauss in Najaf

24 May 2004

A hundred yards to the north the huge, sprawling Wadi al-Salam, the holiest and largest Shia cemetery in the world, stretched away towards the dusty horizon.

Less than a mile to the west lay the heavily fortified American base, manned by the 1st Armoured Division, probably the most dangerous posting in the whole of Iraq.

At the intersection just below a dozen young fighters, heads wrapped in kafirs, crouched behind a high stone wall, cradling rocket-propelled-grenade launchers and Kalashnikov assault rifles.

Just before noon the fighting began in earnest.

It was ushered in by a burst of sustained Kalashnikov fire and an answering salvo from an American heavy-machine gun. One of the fighters knelt and shot.

A mortar round fell among the ancient tombstones a few hundred yards away throwing up a small cloud of dust.

In the large, dusty market of Najaf - several acres of shabby stalls selling cheap Chinese goods as well as herbs, spices and breads – the people began to panic, shuffling this way and that.

Battered cars, desperate to flee the approaching fire-fight, bunched in bottle-necks, honking their horns frantically and trying to force their way over high curbs.

In the distance a group of civilians, dressed in flowing white robes, ran down a deserted road, clearly terrified.

As the battle intensified fighters clambered onto the roofs of buildings for better shots at the Americans, who they said were advancing up the main road.

There was the tell-tale click-click-click of incoming sniper fire.
Then came the whoosh of an RPG being fired. Then another. Then more machine-gunfire.

By now men, women and children were running for cover, grimacing with fear. But for 20-year-old Tahar, a slight English-speaking student of engineering, the sounds were music to his ears.

Dressed in a long, grey shirt with a black headscarf covering everything except his eyes, he held a worn Kalashnikov in his hand, jauntily, at 45 degrees.

He was already panting from the exertion and the adrenalin flow of battle. A thin film of sweat had formed on his brow and his hands.

“We have blown up an American tank,” he said triumphantly, as a large black pall of smoke began to spiral into the dirty sky.

He said: “I have been fighting for a month now against the American infidels. They are murderers and have given us nothing. So far I have not killed, but, God Willing, I soon will.”

Another former student, Hussein, 26, came running over to join him.

“We have damaged five American vehicles,” he said. “Do not believe what the Americans tell you. They kill two or three of our men and they say they have killed 30.”

Some of the claims the Mahdi Army made yesterday were certainly exaggerated. One man said he had killed 32 Americans and destroyed several tanks. The tank turned out to be a petrol station.

Local sources said three civilians were killed and six injured, but that was impossible to verify as the hospital lay in no man’s land. There was no credible word on American casualties.

But whatever the statistics there is no disguising the fact that hundreds of angry young Shias – some poor and ill-educated, others from relatively-well off families - are flocking to the Mahdi Army banner.

A 28-year-old waiter called Mohan, was leading one group of rag-tag fighters into battle yesterday.

He had a bandolier hanging around his neck, carried a PK light machine gun and an anti-tank rocket, and was dressed all in black. On his finger was a ring with a cheap white stone in it.

At first he seemed unfriendly. One of his men levelled an RPG at us. But high on religious fervour and hatred, Mohan was anxious to talk and brushed his friend’s objections away.

“I am so happy to fight,” he said. “For me bullets smell like flowers and I dance and sing as I kill Americans.”

“I have wanted to fight the Americans since the beginning. The Americans and the Jews are stealing the fortune of Iraq. But they can never destroy Islam.”

“My friend Ali became a martyr 15 days ago. He blew himself up in Kufa. He gave his life for the cause and he will go to Paradise.”

As Mohan spoke and there was a lull in the battle and other Mahdi Army fighters came over to talk. They shot in the air, showing off to their foreign guests. They smelt of sweat and excitement.

Then they began to intone defiant Islamic battle-cries, stamping their feet on the ground in unison and whipping themselves into a fury. “The enemies are scared, the enemies are scared,” they chanted.

Hussein, 22, was injured last week in an attack on a US armoured column. He showed the small wounds in his head and shoulder where shrapnel had embedded itself.

In his pocket in a hospital bandage he carried a fragment of shrapnel that had been dug out of his hip. It was small and dark and had vicious, serrated edges.

He said: “Before the uprising I lived in Sadr City and ran a small builder’s merchant. But I closed it two months ago and came here with my two brothers to fight.”

“When the Americans have left I will return and open the shop again. Thanks to God it is a good business and does well.”

Another fighter, a 23-year-old former driver said: “When I go home to rest my mother praised me for fighting the Americans. If we are killed our wives and mothers will rejoice that we died defending the freedom of our country.”

“I killed two Americans in Kufa only 10 days ago and I felt very proud. Now I just want to kill more and more. We will give our last drop of blood.”

Pinned to his chest was a small plastic identity card holder with a picture of Moqtadr al-Sadr, the radical cleric who is the spiritual leader of the uprising in the holy cities.

Yesterday he held his customary Friday prayers in Kufa even as explosions and gunfire rattled outside.

On the road into town from the north a dead body wearing a large camel-coloured robe lay sprawled in the dirt, face down, a sign of the troubled times.

Late yesterday afternoon the fighting began again in Najaf. Fresh explosions and gunfire peppered the calm.

Hussan, a 23-year-old builder, said: “All this fighting and death has become part of our everyday life. The shooting barely stops.”

“I am no fan of Moqtadr al-Sadr but it is the Americans who are causing our suffering. Every day they kill innocent people. They should just leave our country. They promised us democracy and freedom but all they have delivered is torture and abuse.”