Inside Iraq: In Samarra, a second chance

SAMARRA, IRAQ // From the air you can see the imprint of what was once briefly the capital of the Islamic world. The great courtyard of a grand mosque with its spiral minaret reaching to heaven; the remains of a palace sprawled along the Tigris river; and the berm and security towers that encircle the city as part of Iraq's recent history. Samarra is a Sunni city surrounding one of the most sacred sites in Shia Islam: the al Askari shrine, known as the Golden Mosque.

An attack on the shrine two years ago, believed carried out by Sunni extremists, sparked Iraq's recent descent into civil war. In the US history of this war, Samarra has served as a cautionary tale for the United States. Its halting recovery illustrates the difficulty of putting together the broken pieces of the country. Inside the courtyard of the Golden Mosque the sun bounces off the white marble as labourers clear away the broken bricks and tile of the damaged shrine. The 10th and 11th imams were buried here when Samarra was the capital of the Islamic caliphate; the 12th imam - the Hidden Mahdi - was believed to have disappeared here awaiting judgment day. There are few places so steeped in historical or religious significance but for Husayn Ismael and the other workers, it is an afterthought.

"There were all kinds of buildings destroyed here from schools to hospitals, not just this. They need to work on the city," Mr Ismael said. In 2006, eight bombs placed inside the shrine under the dome and 11 surrounding it collapsed the golden structure and left the mirrored ceiling and walls in fragments. A captured al Qa'eda in Iraq leader took responsibility for the attack. A second attack on the minarets last year left them hanging in shreds of steel cable and brick.

Mr Ismael and his fellow workers are all local, hired to replace a Bangladeshi team brought in by Unesco, the United Nations' cultural division, earlier this year. Despite an estimated 70 per cent unemployment, both the United Nations and the Iraqi government, believed allowing local people to work on the city's shrine was a security risk. "We need to rebuild the Golden Mosque just like it was before so it can be a symbol of unity," said Col Rasheed Fleeah, the Iraqi security commander for Samarra. The problem, he said, was that Unesco initially hired a Turkish company. Unesco said it could not find Iraqis qualified to do the job. The Turkish company later pulled out of the project, saying the city was too dangerous.

Before 2003, Samarra was a thriving tourist city. The golden-tiled dome and minarets of the Golden Mosque glinted in the sun, rising up like a mirage at the end of a long street lined with bustling hotels and busy shops. Near the malwiya, the ancient spiral minaret, Iraqi families would picnic and shriek with laughter on rides at the amusement park. The minaret is closed off by a security fence now and rusted metal frames are all that is left of the rides.

A year after Saddam was toppled, with little coalition presence and the Iraqi army destroyed, Sunni extremists took advantage of the security vacuum to move into the city. US forces retook Samarra in late 2004. Soldiers from the New York National Guard darted from alley to alley, taking fire along narrow twisting streets from an enemy they could neither see nor recognise. The battle was hailed as a victory by US and Iraqi officials. But, in a pattern repeated over and over in this war, thinly stretched American forces moved on to fight other battles, leaving a vacuum in which insurgents assassinated Iraqi security leaders and regained power.

The city became a stronghold of al Qa'eda in Iraq and a corridor from Diyala province to al Anbar in the west for fighters and ammunition. "[Al Qa'eda in Iraq] had the freedom to ride around in pickups with machine guns in the back," said Brig Gen James Boozer, deputy commander of the 1st Armored Division. As the heart of the Sunni insurgency, the city was known for the savagery of its attacks. A disabled suicide bomber in a wheelchair killed a senior police commander earlier this year. Shiite militia moved in to fight the Sunnis.

This time, as part of the American strategy adopted last year, US and Iraqi forces also came in, secured the city, and stayed. Samarra is now a maze of concrete walls within walls and an elaborate system of sectarian checks and balances. A reinforced earthen berm surrounds the city to help keep out weapons and car bombs. Fifteen towers manned by Kurdish Iraqi army soldiers watch over the perimeter. Arab soldiers and national police guard checkpoints in and out of the city. Further inside, 'Sons of Iraq' - armed neighbourhood-watch groups - man checkpoints into individual neighbourhoods. The shrine itself is guarded by yet another security force from the prime minister's office.

"The berm and the towers are overconstructed to send a psychological message - people need something to make them feel secure," says Lt Col Joseph McGee, the US army commander for Samarra. One of Col Rasheed's main priorities is to secure the 120km route from Baghdad to Samarra, and all of its 36 checkpoints. Months after curfews were lifted in the capital, there is still a dusk-to-dawn curfew in most of Samarra.

"So much of the fight is psychological," said Brig Gen Boozer, driving into the city in an MRAP (mine-resistant ambush-protected) heavily armoured vehicle. "I think as an American you just can't understand how scared people are. It takes the [concrete] T-walls and the berms and the towers to let people feel safe." Although violence has dropped dramatically, there are still attacks to which the MRAPs offered limited protection. A US soldier was killed in Samarra in July when an anti-tank grenade thrown at the vehicle pierced the armour. "With these attacks they're sending a message that no one is safe - even in an MRAP you're not secure," said a senior officer.

The drop in violence, though, has created the space for the city to start to come to life. When dusk falls and the 40-degree heat starts to dissipate, hundreds of young men and boys flood onto football fields in one of the rituals of summer. On the main street leading to the mosque, shops that were shuttered as recently as April are starting to reopen. Baker Amar Jassim, 21, was painting the walls of his new men's clothing shop a deep rich red and apricot colour.

"People have learnt what al Qa'eda is. They were just too strong for us to do anything about it before," he said, in explaining why he thought locals had turned away from al Qa'eda. US soldiers walking through the streets of Samarra still get wary looks. Although the locals are grateful they helped to restore security in the city, they also believe the United States was responsible for the problem in the first place. Many would rather see the Iraqi army take over.

"They need to leave, our own army can protect us," said a shopkeeper selling khaki cotton T-shirts. For the Americans, the fight here has changed. "Seventy per cent of our work now is trying to connect government and essential services - 30 per cent is going after the rural support network of [al Qa'eda in Iraq]," Brig Gen Boozer said. "Now the key is bringing in essential services. When the economy kick-starts, placing an IED [improvised explosive device] for US$100 (Dh367) is not so attractive."

Money and jobs are major weapons in the counterinsurgency fight. Despite funds promised by the Iraqi government to rebuild the city, as well as the mosque, many people still have not seen it. Samarra was one of many Sunni cities that boycotted provincial elections, meaning its people have little political representation. US military leaders spend part of their time trying to convince officials from the Shiite-led Iraqi government to come to Samarra to see what is needed, often personally taking them there by helicopter.

"Samarra had such a bad reputation for so long, it has been hard to convince people to come down here," Brig Gen Boozer said. "The government has just got to take this opportunity." More than in most Baghdad neighbourhoods, there is a sense here of waiting. Security has improved enough that some people are reopening their shops, but not enough to persuade them to risk major investment such as renovating hotels. Electricity is on for about two hours at a time and off for four.

Abdul Rahman Abdul Razak stands behind his corner stall near the closed mosque. Tin containers that used to hold Turkish margarine are piled neatly with cinnamon and cardamom. In another, there are dried purple flowers meant to help insomnia. "I reopened five months ago but there was no business," he said. "It's a little better now but there still aren't many customers." Laith Shafiq, a butcher, has been open on and off for nine months but there are not many people who can regularly afford to buy the mutton hanging in his window for $5 a kilo.

"People are poor - there's no work here," he said. Outside the mosque complex, fragments of cobalt blue and white tiles lie in piles of rubble - the pieces of the damaged shrine too small to use again. Inside, labourers separate usable pieces of the damaged building from those to be thrown on the pile outside. The two-year-long restoration, funded by the European community and the Iraqi government, is meant to repair the damage from the two attacks.

An Iraqi government official at the shrine said they were reaching back to Iran to recreate the intricate hammered silver and gold work from Isfahan that surrounded the tombs. "We found the same family that did the original work and they still have the drawings and the details," said Zuhair al Ansari, the project manager from the prime minister's office. He said the underground tombs where the imams are buried were undamaged in the attacks but the inlaid wooden coffins above ground were blown apart. The team has been collecting pieces of the intricate wooden pieces to try to determine who can recreate them.

In the meantime, the tombs have been covered with a layer of sponge and a temporary wooden platform. In the first major pilgrimage since the attack on the Golden Mosque, 3,000 Shiites commemorated the death of Imam Ali Hadi in July by arriving by foot and on buses from Baghdad to worship at the destroyed shrine. Iraqi soldiers, police and Sunni tribesmen secured their way. There were no attacks.

Local officials said the Sunni residents of Samarra opened their homes to the Shiite pilgrims to welcome them back. jarraf@thenational.ae