In The North, Fear And Hate

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DISPATCHES
In The North, Fear And = Hate

BY BORZOU DARAGAHI

His voice was frantic. "You guys = have to=20 come back toward Tikrit!" my photographer screamed into the = satellite=20 phone. "Our car broke down! You can't leave us!"

It was April 14, the day before U.S. Marines took Saddam = Hussein's=20 stronghold of Tikrit. But we had heard reports of General Tommy = Franks=20 saying on CNN that the Americans were already there. An Associated = Press=20 photographer, Kevin Frayer, and I, driving behind a team from NBC, = had=20 entered the city with our translators and drivers only to find it = devoid=20 of any U.S. presence. Instead, it was filled with shady = characters,=20 condemning the U.S. and hailing Saddam Hussein. "Be careful," a = man at a=20 gas station told me. "There are Syrian suicide bombers here."

I was discreetly interviewing people when my Kurdish driver, = Muhammad,=20 suddenly demanded that I get back into the car, along with my = translator,=20 Tahseen, who is also Kurdish. Alarmed by his behavior, I complied. = He=20 suddenly burned rubber toward the bridge out of the city, with = Kevin=20 trying to follow behind in his nearly crippled vehicle.

"Please, stop the car," I said.

Normally an excellent driver and employee, Muhammad refused. = "Please,=20 stop the car," I repeated.

"There's nothing here," he kept repeating. "There's nothing = here."=20 Kevin was pleading on the phone, which I relayed to Muhammad. But = still he=20 refused to stop.

It was a learning experience. I always knew Iraqi Kurds = mistrusted=20 their Arab countrymen, who oppressed them for decades. But I never = realized just how viscerally and primordially they hated each = other until=20 that day on the road from Tikrit. I think that, now that the war = is over,=20 tensions between the country's ethnic groups will be northern = Iraq's big=20 story.

My trusty driver and translator had hitherto accompanied me on = the=20 hairiest of missions. They hiked with me up a hill as we spied on = the Badr=20 Brigades, the Iranian-based Shiite Iraqi opposition group that had = begun=20 setting up a military camp southeast of Darbandekhan. They had = tolerated=20 the tedium of the Salahuddin opposition conference, where Iraqi = windbags=20 expounded on their visions for a democratic, pluralistic, federal = Iraq=20 while we shivered in third-rate hotels. They had guided me through = the=20 Halabja area, where Ansar al Islam, the extremist Islamist group = holed up=20 high in the mountains, had embarked on a campaign of assassination = and=20 bombings in the valley below. My driver had kept his cool as we = came upon=20 the scene of a car bomb northwest of Halabja that had just killed = an=20 Australian journalist and several Kurds.

Muhammad and Tahseen had helped me explore the back roads and=20 smugglers' routes in the no-man's-land surrounding = government-controlled=20 Kirkuk. Antiaircraft tracers lit up my driver's face as he watched = the=20 coalition's nighttime bombing raids over that city, his hometown, = and the=20 Kurds' lost dream city. On April 10, we gunned it in a convoy = behind=20 Kurdish pesh merga and United States Special Forces as they = stormed=20 Khaneqin, a Baghdad-controlled city to the south of the autonomous = Kurdish=20 area, soaking up the adulation of residents welcoming us to their = newly=20 liberated town. We sped through the desert past miles of abandoned = Iraqi=20 military positions and deserting Iraqi soldiers on our way to = Kirkuk.

But those were all in Kurdistan. Now we were in Arabia, and my = driver=20 and translator were like fish out of water. All day long on the = drive to=20 Tikrit they had complained and fretted and resisted. They weren't = unique.=20 Two journalists from NBC had to fire one of their drivers midway = to Tikrit=20 because he refused to go any further.

But leaving Kevin behind was an altogether different story. = "Stop the=20 car, you coward!" I yelled at Muhammad. "Go back now! I'm not = going to=20 leave Kevin behind."

As if waking up from a trance, he finally began to slow down. = We turned=20 around and went back to get the photographer. We found him = putt-putting=20 along at five miles an hour in his ailing car. He was very glad to = see us.=20

Kevin's Kurdish driver, Adnan, had raced his engine and clogged = up the=20 carburetor of his Nissan. Kevin said a nice Arab taxi driver had = offered=20 to help, but Adnan contemptuously shooed him away. He said he = didn't=20 believe any Arab could fix his car.

Adnan is a simple working-class guy. But even my translator, = Tahseen, a=20 sophisticated, upper-middle class, college-educated = twenty-three-year-old,=20 punctuates every third or fourth sentence he interprets from an = Arab or=20 Turkoman with "but he's lying" or "he's an idiot." And such = bigotry does=20 not bode well for the future of Iraq.

As the cities of northern Iraq fell to coalition forces and = came under=20 the control of Kurdish authorities, incidents of hate crimes, = looting, and=20 reprisals by newly triumphant Kurds against Arabs and Turkomans = began to=20 rise. Armed Kurds began kicking Arabs off their farms and out of = their=20 homes.

Working in Iraqi Kurdistan for three months, I had viewed Kurds = as=20 victims of history and of the more dominant ethnic groups around = them. But=20 as we towed Kevin's car back over the semidesert to Kirkuk from = Tikrit,=20 back to Kurdistan from Arabia, a vision formed in my mind's eye: = of=20 ancient mountain people on horseback raiding the villages of the = flatlands=20 below, and quickly scurrying back up to their untouchable retreats = in the=20 canyons above.

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DISPATCHESIn The North, Fear And = Hate

DISPATCHES
In The North, Fear And = Hate