Jon Bright (London, OK): Ghaith Abdul-Ahad, a Baghdad born reporter who has been writing for the Guardian since the invasion of Iraq, is a hero of mine, the pair of eyes through which I've watched the invasion unfold. I've only met him once, very briefly, but I feel in a strange way as if I know him, in the way that all fans feel as if they know their heroes. I made him coffee, a black coffee, something I remember very distinctly - a small way of repaying him for everything he has done. openDemocracy published a raw transcript of an interview we did with him shortly afterwards.
After a longish hiatus - he hadn't written for the Guardian since Saddam's execution - during which I dreaded the appearance of an obituary, he has returned with a series marking the five year anniversary of the invasion. This first article and accompanying video should be required reading / watching for everyone - especially those peddling the enthusiastic rubbish that the surge is "working" from the safety of the Green Zone. His travels through Baghdad expose a different version of events - a city divided by enormous concrete walls, riddled with checkpoints, at war with itself. There is no such thing as a Baghdadi any more, he reflects - a painful statement to make for someone who still calls Baghdad "his city."
Also, vitally, he is not one of 'ours', although the Guardian is to be congratulated for supporting him. He is not reporting on what the US or the Iranians or al-Qaida are doing as if that is the story and Iraq just the backdrop. He is reporting from his own country. He carries both a Sunni and a Shia passport so he can travel through it. Ghaith reports from places where it would be impossible for foreign journalists to visit - and though he downplays it the danger to him must have been large as well. His anecdotes - striking and simple - tell pieces of a story that is being quietly forgotten by those who unleashed the violence:
The Shahbander, one of the city's oldest cafes, where intellectuals once whispered the names of banned novelists and chewed over Sartre, was destroyed by a car bomb. The owner, Haji Muhammad, sits outside, reading amid piles of rubbish. His five sons died in the bombing, he tells me.
Neal Ascherson wrote last week that we won't really know what we have done to Iraq until we leave. Thanks to Abdul-Ahad we at least have an idea. Fantastic, sobering, and horrifying stuff - and a true testament to what courageous journalism can achieve. One longs for the day when he can report that life is peaceful and normal from the streets of Baghdad. He, like everyone else he spoke to there, does not seem to expect that day soon.
You can read more of Ghaith Abdul-Ahad's articles here.
