TIME: A Deadly Car Bomb
Attack Rocks Baghdad
Thursday, August 07, 2003
By MICHAEL WARE
With a roar and a rolling shockwave that shattered
windows and trembled rooftops across northern Baghdad
this morning the grinding guerrilla war entered a new
and more lethal phase. Shortly before 11 am local
time a bomb in a Coaster minivan outside the
Jordanian embassy detonated with horrific force,
unleashing a fireball that incinerated a car full of
people passing by. Those in front of the building
were killed instantly, the clothes wrenched from
their bodies and flung in tufts like singed confetti,
their flesh torched. More than 50 others inside the
compound or in the family homes nearby were wounded.
The attack heralds a new dimension to the war in
Iraq. The resistance has until now been furtive —
hit-and-run raids on American convoys, improvised
explosive devices that strike military vehicles,
snipers and gunmen picking off soldiers one by one.
As of today car bombs are in the anti-American forces
arsenal. Whether this signals a shift in people or
simply a change in tactics is unclear; U.S.
commanders say they have reports of foreign
terrorists entering the country, but this assault may
turn out to be homegrown. Still, the deployment of
car bombs, or that most sanguine of weapons the
suicide bomber, as was used by the terrorists of
Ansar al Islam in northern Iraq earlier this year,
could be the next step in the campaign against U.S.
forces. "I think that what this shows is we've got
some terrorists operating here," says Coalition
commander Lt. Gen. Ricardo Sanchez. "It shows that
we're still in a conflict zone."
Outside the Embassy
Within minutes of the blast the scene at the embassy
was one of furtive screaming, blazing vehicles,
dismembered victims and rescuers blindly running in
belching smoke, scouring for survivors. The wounded,
draped in blood, were stumbling onto the footpath or
being carried from the building towards the wailing
of approaching ambulance sirens. Nearby, naked torsos
littered the pavement and embassy doorways. Little
crimson lakes of blood pooled on the concrete. People
dashing in and out of the building stepped high over
the dead, some without looking down, their gaze fixed
ahead. The wounded went to the ambulances first. As
each ambulance filled it raced off, only to be
replaced by another. When the time came the dead were
gingerly lifted, some scooped up in messy bundles.
All were quickly wrapped in whatever was at hand; a
white scarf, a vibrant yellow blanket, anything. Four
men took the edges of the wrappings and hauled them
away. As they did emphatic chants went up, "There is
only one God," over and over. Eventually gurneys were
freed up from the injured and the dead were wheeled
through the gathering throng.
Anger Toward America
It was not long before the shock passed, and a mob
stormed the embassy, crashing through the twisted
bars of a metal gate. Men reappeared with framed
photographs of the deceased Jordanian King Hussein
Abdullah. The crowd bellowed as the pictures were
held aloft and cheered as they were smashed upon the
embassy walls. Glass shattered and the pictures were
stomped by many sandals. Next came Jordanian tourist
posters and images of King Abdullah's son, King
Abdullah bin Hussein, Jordan's reigning monarch. They
too were smashed. A Jordanian staffer in the bowels
of the embassy fired shots as the second wave of
looters crashed in. Then the rage turned, and the
crowd began yelling Anti-American slogans.
No U.S. forces had yet arrived to secure the embassy.
The only Iraqi police were among the dead. The
crowd's anger turned on Time's reporter, the only
foreigner then on the scene. "Fuck you," a man yelled
as he lunged, throwing a punch. "Fuck King Hussein
and fuck America." The crowd closed in, snatching,
punching and clawing. "Where are the Americans?" a
man yelled. "If we saw one injured American here we'd
see the area full of helicopters."
When the US troops finally arrived, more than 30
minutes after the bombing, they came in force:
humvees and battle tanks. The crowd jeered. Soldiers
pressing inside the embassy were heckled. The tanks
rumbled forward, cutting a path through the throng.
Soldiers grabbed a crowbar to help the Iraqis prying
the scorched metal of one of the cars to retrieve
more bodies. The crowd demanded they step back.
"Leave them," a man in a bloodied shirt ordered in
Arabic, "they are Iraqis." The crowd backed up his
command, chanting "God is great." It took time for
the soldiers to drive the mess of people back; they
had to shout and order, and sometimes shove with
their rifles.
No one knows who was responsible for the attack. Some
of the bystanders surmised it may be payback for
Jordan's offer of asylum for Saddam's daughters.
Others though it was just deserts for their
neighbor's alliance with the U.S. A bearded old man
said he didn't care why, though he firmly believed it
was pro-Saddam guerrillas. "Look at what they've
done, why did they do it here?" he lamented. "The
mujahedeen could have done it somewhere else. The
only dead are Iraqis."
One thing is certain. The war has changed.