Rushdi also maintained the existing family ties with the royal family, although he could not muster much enthusiasm for the Prince Regent, who he felt was small-minded and politically incapable compared to Nuri. However, Abdul Ilah was a keen hunter, and Hadi owned some wonderful horses and saluki dogs, which he kept just outside Baghdad. So the Prince Regent was a frequent guest at the Chalabi house, and Rushdi organized hyena hunts in the surrounding wild lands. These started early in the morning, when the men would gather with their horses for a hot breakfast before the long day ahead.
Nuri Said, far right, at a lunch party in the Sif garden, 1946.
For all his political aspirations, Rushdi lacked his father’s ability to connect with the common man. He also lacked Hadi’s humility and his commitment to philanthropic causes such as the Iraqi Red Crescent, children’s education and health. Hadi remained unswervingly loyal to Kazimiya and many families in the town relied upon him for their well-being.
In spite of his ambivalent attitude towards the town, in 1947 Rushdi ran for the Kazimiya seat for parliament and won, while his father was appointed a senator. With the reins of power still in the hands of the Arab Sunni minority, their achievements were the few Shi’a exceptions.
Hassan, meanwhile, had completed his studies in Cairo, and was determined to take his doctorate at the Sorbonne in Paris. Eventually he secured the support of his parents, and arrived in the French capital in the summer of 1947.
He was alone. Having completed her law degree, Jamila had decided to return to Baghdad. Her mother had never been happy about her situation as a young Christian woman working for a Muslim man, and in spite of the depth of her feelings for Hassan, Jamila could not see any future for herself with him. It was simply not possible. They came from such different worlds.
His first few months in Paris proved very challenging for Hassan. He lived at the Hôtel Lutece, which had been the Gestapo’s headquarters only a couple of years earlier. His only friend in Paris, Kazim, worked at the Iraqi Embassy. Kazim was an immense help to him, but nothing could compensate him for the loss of Jamila’s care and attention. He had to find a way to convince her to join him in Paris, he told himself.
For several weeks, Hassan asked Kazim to write the letters to Jamila that he dictated to him. Sheltering from the evening drizzle in a café, cigarette in one hand and pen in the other, Kazim patiently wrote down Hassan’s words. During the fifth letter, Hassan sighed and said: ‘You’re much missed, Jamila. I’m sure you’ll love Paris.’
Kazim looked up at him intently and asked, ‘Hassan, are you sure this is just business?’ When Hassan did not immediately reply, he wondered cautiously if his friend had fallen in love with Jamila, and suggested that unless he planned to do something about it, Jamila’s coming to Paris would only complicate matters. Flushing, Hassan insisted that Jamila was only his assistant, then cleared his throat and resumed his dictation. It took many pleading letters before Jamila was finally persuaded to join him in January 1948.
23
The Girl on the Bridge
Anger on the Streets
(1947–1949)
BY LATE 1947, Britain’s presence in Iraq was regarded as problematic by all the country’s political parties, regardless of their ideologies. The question was how to address the nation’s strong anti-British sentiment while also safeguarding Iraq’s interests, which necessitated a continuing good relationship with Britain. The 1930 Anglo-Iraqi Treaty had given Iraq its independence and a place in the League of Nations; in return it had meant that Britain could station her troops in Iraq. The terms of that treaty now needed to be revisited.
Anticipating public opposition to any attempt to ratify the treaty, Nuri and the Prince Regent initiated early and secret negotiations with the British in order to ensure that Iraq made valuable gains in any new deal that might be brokered. However, Nuri had been replaced as Prime Minister by Saleh Jabr, the first Shi’a to hold that position, and it fell to him to ratify the treaty with the British Foreign Secretary Ernest Bevin in Portsmouth in January 1948.
Under the terms of the new treaty, which was kept secret from the public, Britain would withdraw its troops from Iraq and hand over its two airbases, supply Iraq with arms and military training, and establish a joint common defence board. Saleh Jabr had also obtained guarantees from Bevin that under its Palestinian mandate, Britain would halt the creation of the state of Israel, which had been outlined by the United Nations in December 1947. This was a serious issue for all Arab nations, and in securing this guarantee, Jabr believed he had achieved something of immense importance.
Several delegations from Iraq travelled to Britain to discuss aspects of the treaty. Hadi’s brother Muhammad Ali took part in the economic negotiations, as he was in charge of the government-run Rafidain Bank. All the delegations shared the belief that Iraq needed to remain close to one of the world powers, as it was not strong enough to stand alone.
When news of the discussions was leaked to the Baghdadi press in early January 1948, it incited uproar among students, who took to the streets. Thirty-nine people were arrested, and an uneasy peace followed.
It was to be the quiet before the storm. A mass demonstration broke out in Baghdad a few days later, on 20 January. Lasting seven days, the protests became known as the Wathbah – the great uprising. They had been organized to a large extent by the Communists, uniting the diverse elements of society in their anger: there were displaced peasants from the south, students, railway workers, lawyers, doctors and artisans, as well as members of the growing Zionist element within the Jewish community, who disagreed vehemently with the clause which guaranteed that Britain would block a Zionist state in Palestine. All the individual grievances of the different divisions of society, urban and rural, Shi’a and Sunni, nationalist and Communist, became entangled and merged together into one enormous outburst.
During the week of the uprising, Baghdad resembled a battlefield as the demonstrators converged from both sides of the river towards the Ma’moun Bridge near the government district. Those on the east bank wanted to cross the river to join the protesters on the west bank; the air rang with their chants and cries as they distributed anti-government pamphlets, while ranks of police spread across the city, strategically placed on rooftops, in homes, cafés, mosques. Their orders were to stop the demonstrators and turn them back at any price.
Street warfare broke out. The police opened fire, and many were killed. The road was strewn with bodies, while others fell into the river. When police reinforcements were positioned on both sides of the bridge, a number of protesters found themselves trapped, with machine guns pointed at them. A young woman of nineteen, Adawiyah al-Falaki, a prostitute from the kallachiya, broke through the crowd. Defying the hail of bullets and the armed police, she carried a protest banner across the bridge, encouraging everyone to follow her. She survived, and became known as the Girl on the Bridge; several poems were later written in honour of her courage.
During the week of the uprising, one hundred people died and three hundred were injured. Many of the dead were taken to the Shi’a shrine cities of Najaf and Karbala for burial, the funerals enflaming the sense of injustice and evoking the stories of the martyr saints. Among those who fell near the bridge was Jaafar al-Jawahiri, the brother of Iraq’s Poet Laureate Muhammad Mahdi al-Jawahiri, and a Shi’a native of Najaf. Jaafar was immortalized by his brother in a poem that was read out by his graveside. The verses of My Brother Jaafar and Day of the Martyr came to symbolize the sentiment of revolution for many Iraqis:
It is not fancy, what I say, my brother,
For he who has to take revenge is always awake; he never dreams
But is inspired by my patient endurance.
For sometimes inspiration can reveal what is hidden in the future
I see the heavens without stars, lit up with red blood …
Jabr’s government was toppled, and the Regent had to rescind the treaty. The left had succeeded in bringing down the gover
nment, but they had no plans beyond that. To appease the public, it was decided that another Shi’a should become the next Prime Minister. Abdul Hussein’s old friend Sayyid Muhammad al-Sadr, who had participated in the 1920 revolt and then become an ally of Faisal, took office.
Fearing for his safety, former Prime Minister Jabr left Baghdad for his wife’s tribe near Hilla. As an expression of solidarity at such a difficult time, Hadi decided to visit him there. Ni’mati, who had never previously expressed a political opinion in his life, stunned the entire household when he passionately declared his strong opposition to this trip. His son Muhammad, Hassan’s school companion, had embraced Communism during the war, when he had worked for the British Army: no doubt he had influenced his father. In his poor Arabic, Ni’mati criticized Jabr to Hadi: ‘She’s a fool – a bad man who knows nothing of the people! How could you be dealing with this and his shameful ways?’
Hadi explained carefully that, as a fellow Shi’a, it was important for him to rally round Jabr, and not abandon him. Jabr had represented the government, and now he was being made the scapegoat. Ni’mati didn’t agree, but as he was about to reply Rushdi entered the room. Such was Ni’mati’s devotion to Hadi that he would never contradict him in front of his children. He closed his mouth, nodded to Rushdi and left them.
Saeeda, who was now Ahmad’s devoted nanny, disagreed with Ni’mati’s views and was highly disapproving of his son’s political leanings. Because her relationship with Bibi went back years, she carried a certain authority in the house, and held court in her private quarters downstairs. Through her visitors from Kazimiya, she learned a great deal about the popularity of Communism in the town, what people were saying and what they were doing.
She also became an important conduit for many of those who sought assistance from Hadi or Rushdi. If she was convinced that they were deserving, Saeeda never hesitated to lobby their causes upstairs with Bibi or Rushdi, who was very fond of her. She never spoke to Hadi himself unless he spoke to her first: it was a self-imposed rule, which she upheld till the end of her life.
It soon became clear that the new Prime Minister, Sayyid Muhammad al-Sadr, could not bring about change. No sooner had he resigned and a new Cabinet been formed than the Arab–Israeli war – which Israelis call the War of Independence and Palestinians the Catastrophe (Nakba) – broke out in 1948, following the abrupt cession of the British mandate in Palestine.
As part of the Arab Legion, which included forces from Jordan, Syria, Egypt, Lebanon, Saudi Arabia and Yemen, Iraq initially sent 3,000 men to fight the Zionist troops, and later increased that number to 21,000. This turn of events affected the status of the Iraqi Jews dramatically, as they found themselves positioned precariously between their ancient homeland and a promised land. Many were divided in their loyalties, as they welcomed some form of reparation to their people for the horrors of World War II, but were appalled by the plight of the Palestinians who were driven out of their homes. Nevertheless, the conflict in Palestine drove a wedge between the Jews and the rest of the Iraqi population. A Zionist movement had taken root in Iraq following the Farhud of 1941, and many Iraqi Jews had been secretly migrating to Israel. Many non-Jewish Iraqis believed that the Zionists themselves had been responsible for some of the attacks against Jewish interests in Baghdad in order to convince Jews of the need to migrate, as Israel was in need of an able and affluent population.
In 1949 the Arab Legion withdrew from Palestine. There was great anger in Iraq at the defeat, leading to more protests and greater criticism of the government, as well as increased hostility towards Iraqi Jews. A decree was issued: those Jews who wished to remain were welcome to do so, but any who wanted to emigrate to Israel had to surrender their Iraqi nationality and dispose of their assets in Iraq. In the event, some 130,000 Jews left Iraq, where their ancestors had lived for millennia. While they lost their ancestral homeland, Iraq lost an entire community – only a few thousand Jews remained, the backbone of the country’s first middle class.
Yet another Cabinet was formed, with Nuri Pasha al-Said back at the helm. Although the Iraqi component of the Arab Legion had fought well, the conflict had been a disaster for the Arab nations, many of which looked to allocate the blame, with Egypt accusing Iraq of losing the war. This accusation effectively ended Iraqi involvement in the campaign; Nuri withdrew his forces and proposed a solution that would have recognized Israel, but granted it much less territory.
The Arab–Israeli war marked the beginning of yet another new order in the region, one that would alter it irrevocably. It also highlighted the increasing rivalry between Iraq and Egypt as major players on the regional stage. While Iraq had arguably proved itself more successful in terms of nation-building in recent years, Egypt had the advantage of continuity: the monarchy there had existed since the mid-nineteenth century, after all.
Weary of war and of the tensions that continued to trouble Iraq, Bibi decided that the time was right for her first trip to Europe. She arranged to visit Hassan in Paris in 1949.
Saeeda was quietly proud of the Chalabis’ international travels and their royal connections, which she described with pleasure to her visitors. She was Bibi’s eyes and ears in the servants’ quarters, and her rooms were constantly busy with guests. When her friend Batul complained to her about men, she would give her advice based on her own experience, although she preferred not to dwell on the failure of her marriage. When another friend, Umm Abdul Amir, complained that her husband beat her, she firmly advised her to leave him.
Having been snatched from her African village as a young girl, Saeeda craved security and order; she could not bear the violence and chaos that seemed to be connected to the Communist cause. Yet, for all that she disapproved of Ni’mati’s son’s Communist loyalties, she was as horrified as everyone else when the leader of the Iraqi Communist Party, Yusuf Salman Yusuf, was condemned to death in 1949 for treason. A Christian based in Nasiriya, southern Iraq, Yusuf Salman Yusuf had been imprisoned in 1946 and given a life sentence in 1947. His nom de guerre, Fahd, meant panther in Arabic.
At his re-sentencing in 1949, Fahd was given an open trial, which afforded people the opportunity to listen to his ideas at first hand. The government claimed that he had used his base in Kut prison to preach, recruit for and plot a Communist revolution to overthrow the established order and bring about – among other things – the expulsion of the British, the distribution of land to the peasants, social revolution and power for the workers and peasants.
The decision to execute Fahd and three of his comrades – Yehuda Siddiq, a Jew; Hussein Muhammad Shibibi, a Shi’a; and Zaki Bassim, a Sunni – was met with international condemnation. Apart from three officers who had been executed for treason at Abdul Ilah’s insistence after the 1941 coup, these were the first public executions during the monarchy, and many people were left in shock. Ni’mati worried desperately for the safety of Muhammad and his Communist associates, although he knew that Hadi would always do his best to protect him and his family.
24
Precious Things
Towards a New World
(1950–1951)
OIL HAD BEEN discovered in the early 1900s at Kirkuk in the north of Iraq, then part of the Mosul province of the Ottoman Empire. A rivalry had developed between the British Anglo-Persian Oil Company, the German Deutsche Bank, Royal Dutch Shell and later the Turkish Petroleum Company for control of the precious resource.
The Iraqi Petroleum Company, a consortium of European and American oil companies, was formed in 1929, after many years of negotiation in which Calouste Gulbenkian – better known as Mr 5 Per Cent – played a leading role. At the time that the Kingdom of Iraq was created in 1921, control of and profit from oil were firmly in the hands of the oil companies, and the Iraqi state did not a benefit from its most important natural resource. It was only in the aftermath of World War II, when it was discovered that more oil lay in the south of the country than in the north, that Iraqi politicians began to campaign in ear
nest to obtain a share of the oil wealth in order to fund the country’s development. Hadi and Rushdi were not directly involved in the negotiations at this stage, but both awaited the outcome with interest.
‘What do you think, Father – could there be something in this for us?’ Rushdi asked Hadi casually one afternoon, when the family had gathered for a large lunch in the house at A’zamiya. A calm had descended over the table; the silver platters had been emptied, the younger children were with their nannies. Rushdi and Ilham now had two little ones, Hussein and Nadia; Thamina had had her third, a baby girl called Kuku.
Left to right: Suham (Saleh’s wife), Thamina, Raifa and Ilham (Suham’s sister and Rushdi’s wife) at a party in the late 1940s.
‘Perhaps, perhaps not.’ Hadi reflected for a moment. ‘I have enough to occupy me with my farms and lands. Agriculture is what I know; oil – well …’
Rushdi nodded thoughtfully. He would wait to see what came of this new business.
Under the terms of the new agreements Iraq finally began to receive 50 per cent of its oil revenue, of which it funnelled 70 per cent into the Iraqi Development Board, founded in 1950, the aim of which was to fund large-scale development, including agriculture, industrial, urban, public housing and education projects. One of the more exciting projects undertaken was the modernizing of Baghdad.
Late for Tea at the Deer Palace: The Lost Dreams of My Iraqi Family Page 26
