BAGHDAD — The Iraq constitutional convention could not complete
its work by last Monday’s due date so it did the next best thing:
it moved the due date. The writers now have an additional week to
collect their thoughts and come up with a new document. Opinions
differ widely as to whether this is doable. The most frequently
expressed view is that the differences and hatreds that divide the
Iraqis are too deeply ingrained and too strongly felt to be papered
over by a new constitution.
Part of the problem is that Iraq is a country with no history of
negotiation and political give and take. In Iraq the concept of
everyone having to give a little to achieve an agreement for the
greater good is unknown. For Iraqis who don’t get everything they
want, the only alternative is to storm out of the room.
While the new Iraqi constitution foundered, what most troubled
me — as an American who has seen his country invest much blood and
treasure here — is the attitude of the average Iraqi on the
street. On Monday I spoke to between 25 and 30 Iraqis about this
subject in some detail. I asked each one of them: Will there be a
new Constitution tonight? Or, next week? Or, in three months? The
reply from every single Iraqi was identical: “I don’t care!” or
“Who cares!” To this startling response each added some variation
of “I have other things to worry about!”
Some of the people I queried were total strangers; some spoke
English; some did not (someone translated); some were colleagues
from work or from among Iraqi subcontractors. Altogether fewer than
three dozen people, not enough for a legitimate statistical
sampling. The real eye-opener, nonetheless, was that 100% of the
responses were “I don’t care!” or “Who cares!”
The apparent indifference of so many Iraqis to what is going on
has obvious causes. When I said to Ali, one of our employees, “How
can you not care? Aren’t you glad Saddam is gone?” his quick reply
was, “At least we had peace and security when Saddam was here.”
When I pressed him further he reacted angrily and launched into
a diatribe that I would paraphrase as follows:
“You ask how can I not care? I don’t care because right now what
matters to me much more than a constitution is that we have no
safety, we have no security, we can’t go out for fear of being
killed, or kidnapped, or having our head cut off right in the
middle of the street! You precious Americans are always standing on
a box and shouting about liberty, and freedom and
constitutions!
“But none of you have to worry about being killed every time you
go out, or that your children will be kidnapped and killed. I tell
you, John, when I don’t have not to worry about that anymore —
then I will be happy to talk with you or George Bush, or anyone
else about the constitution.”
As we talked, the lights in our kitchen flickered and went out.
They stayed off for about five minutes and then came back on very
brightly. The generator had finally kicked in. Ali then
continued:
“You see, John, your lights came back on. In my house there are
lights maybe two hours a day and that is in the afternoon. There is
nothing at night. Do you know what it is like to live like that
every day? And, do you know about the water? There is no water, or
most of the time there is no water Bottled water is too expensive
for baths, but twice a week my wife and I boil up ten liters of
bottled water and pour it in the bathtub for a bath for our sons.
Right now, John, I can’t think about the constitution because all I
can think of is keeping my family fed and alive and I am barely
succeeding!
“I like my job with your American company but if anyone knew
where I work, I would be killed right away. You don’t have to worry
about that, do you?”
There, from the mouth of one Iraqi, are the reasons he doesn’t
care if there is a constitution.
