Command centers near the highway to Jordan, the only land link out of this isolated country, have been abandoned as generals disperse to makeshift headquarters. Antiaircraft guns ring the airport where U.N. Secretary-General Kofi Annan landed for the talks that Iraqis dare to hope will forestall the bombs. We pray to Allah to help him bring peace. Baghdad's new poor are worrying as always about their daily bread. A lucky man might earn 4,000 dinars a month, the price of a kilo of meat.
Families get by on soup and rice, for lunch and dinner.
One grimy apartment overlooking Martyrs Square contains nothing but blankets on the floor, one chair and a hot plate. Only the superrich can afford the 11 types of condiments and Uncle Ben's rice at the upscale supermarket. Yet where once Iraqis indicated at least in subtle ways how they despised him, the years of the embargo have turned almost all their ire against the enemy outside. If Saddam doesn't give them food, at least he stands up for Iraq's national dignity, stoking their patriotism and resentment. We have nothing left.