WiRED assists with nation-building activities in Iraq
Gary W. Selnow, Ph.D.
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The task at hand in Iraq:
The Global Technology Corps (GTC) at the U.S. Department of State has asked WiRED to assist in evaluating the information needs
of the Iraqi people in the aftermath of the war. Specifically, the evaluation team (consisting of WiRED's Gary Selnow; GTC's
Jim Mollen; and Boeing Corporation's Tom Becherer) is looking at conditions related to education, health care and democracy
building. It is exploring how information technology can benefit Iraqis by adapting programs of the kind WiRED has put in
place in Central Europe, Africa and Central America. During this two-week visit, when conditions allow, Selnow will send
reports about the team's findings and discuss other issues and conditions that he sees during the evaluation. We will post
his reports on this Website.
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The Office of Reconstruction and Humanitarian Assistance (ORHA) has established its headquarters in the
largest of Saddam Hussein's former palaces in Baghdad
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WiRED's background and the work in Iraq:
This is the third time we have been involved in a post-war effort.
- WiRED's first experience was in Vukovar, Croatia where we set up an Internet facility in a heavily damaged school.
Within a year-and-a-half, we installed fifteen Centers throughout that region.
- Two years later, immediately after the Kosovo conflict, we became involved with the Kosovo Internet Access Initiative
sponsored by the Global Technology Corps at the U.S. Department of State. That joint effort rapidly put in place eight public
Information Access Centers that provided tens of thousands of people in Kosovo with a vital communication link to the outside.
- Now, as we approach this work in Iraq, we bring to the table our experiences from these earlier conflicts, from our
subsequent work throughout the Balkans and from the Community Health Information Centers in Kenya and Nicaragua.
Notes from the field:
Tuesday, May 27, 2003
The Reconstruction Planners
I have been observing the sincerity and commitment of the people working on this large reconstruction team--Americans and a long
roster of other nationals. They display none of the cynicism one might expect, none of the enmity or attitude that could reasonably
follow in the face of a conflict that, despite official pronouncements, is not quite over (two American soldiers were killed Monday
night in Baghdad and one was wounded when their vehicle was hit by an explosive).
This team of military and civilians from government and the private sector is really quite remarkable. I've watched these people
start their 20-hour workdays at dawn. An American civilian working with the Iraqi media told me that at home, in Little Rock, she
needs her eight hours sleep; here in Baghdad, she gets only four. "That's what it takes to do the job," she said with no
resentment in her voice.
For the few thousand people living here, Saddam's Palace is no lap of luxury despite what you might think; the beauty of this
stone marvel is skin deep. The makeshift beds are small and spare, they have no sheets or pillows. Rooms are packed dorm style
with five or more residents; my room has twelve snorers who stop by for a few zees, and they all share a one-commode, one-sink,
one-stall shower whose water supply has been more a promise than a probability. In close quarters, Spartan bathing facilities are
no joy when the mercury hits 110. So, this place is no spa and these people do not come here for the waters.
They also don't come here to get rich. Most are mid-level employees who earn a good wage, but they could do just as well back
home. The people are driven by a real interest to help Iraq get beyond Saddam and on a course for recovery. They offer their
skills and share their knowledge about the gritty business of running a country that has been neglected and abused and most
recently defeated in war. Office doors here bear signs such as "Ministry of Health," "Ministry of Justice", "Ministry of Finance"
each dedicated to the development of a system that can move Iraq closer to a functional society.
And, you will see Iraqis in this palace, hundreds of them. Nearly everyone I've spoken with on the coalition teams has expressed
a keen interest in transferring to the Iraqis as quickly as possible the task of running the country, and for that they need lots
of face time. The sentiment here is "we're desperately trying to work ourselves out of a job." Their plan to do that is to help
design the blueprints, organize the Iraqi agencies, train the trainers and go home. That, at least, is how the people I've talked
with see it, and to pull that off they work side-by-side with the Iraqis who soon will run this place. Evidence gleaned from the
working team here is that the plan really is to give Iraq back to the Iraqis--lock, stock and barrel--and to do that as quickly as
possible.
These reconstruction efforts go through phases, and these early phases are typically adrenalin driven and chaotic. That describes
things at the Saddam Palace in Baghdad, but that environment will soon change. Days will still be long but not as long and not as
frenetic, routines will take hold, firmed-up policies will drive beefed-up procedures, and the reconstruction effort will transform
more or less into a regular assignment-although on a few steroids. Pity that the spirit evident here will likely transform into
the ordinary as well. In the meanwhile, it's a real inspiration.
Sunday, May 25, 2003
The team drove eight hours from Kuwait City to Baghdad in an armed, three vehicle convoy and arrived at the largest of Saddam
Hussein's palaces where the Office of Reconstruction and Humanitarian Assistance (ORHA) has established its headquarters.
In addition to housing the transition team's administrative offices, the palace (untouched by the war) also billets troops,
coalition officials and contractors.
Observations:
The Palace: Saddam's palace is a gilded, marbled, frescoed, crystal chandeliered display of a tyrant's self-indulgence. Other
despots have venerated themselves with monuments of such extravagance, but few have built their tributes in the midst of such
utter poverty and at such a great cost to their people. With the money spent on this palace, Saddam could have constructed a
well-equipped town for a few thousand Iraqis or revamped the country's educational system, its health care programs or its
communication system. Large as a museum, garish as a Vegas hotel, secure as a fortress, this palace perched on the Tigris River
makes for an odd headquarters and encampment. We may never know how Saddam used this place, but today the palace is as busy as a
bus station and a bit noisier. A few thousand collation soldiers and civilian workers tread on Saddam's polished floors, sit on
Saddam's stuffed chairs, dine in Saddam's banquet hall, bathe in Saddam's marble bathrooms. Workers are repairing a filtering
system, and soon the troops will swim in Saddam's pool. What a splendid irony that this shameless tribute to a tyrant now houses
the tyrant's evictors. The new occupants are taking good care of the place, and in time they will turn it over to the Iraqi people.
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