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Process Enacted: by Jordan C Greenhalgh

Hearing on US Embassy in Iraq: Mayberry's Opening

‘Untouchable’ corruption in Iraq ministries

Report partially faults PM’s office, says health ministry in ‘grip’ of militants By Aram Roston and Lisa Myers NBC News Investigative Unit Updated: 8:56 p.m. ET July 30, 2007 Supplies and medicine in strife-torn Baghdad's overcrowded hospitals have been siphoned off and sold elsewhere for profit because of corruption in the Iraqi Ministry of Health, according to a draft U.S. government report obtained by NBC News. The report, written by U.S. advisers to Iraq's anti-corruption agency, analyzes corruption in 12 ministries and finds devastating and grim problems. "Corruption protected by senior members of the Iraqi government," the report said, "remains untouchable." One potential problem is in the office of Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki, according to the report. The report said that "the prime minister’s office has on a number of occasions intervened on cases involving political supporters." An al-Maliki adviser acknowledged to NBC that the problem of corruption in Iraq is "huge," but denied that al-Maliki's office has intervened in investigations. He said the prime minister is working hard to minimize the problem. The draft report obtained by NBC said the Iraqi Ministry of Health, which oversees the country's hospitals, is in the "grip" of the Mahdi Army, the anti-American militia run by Shiite cleric Muqtada al-Sadr. "Contract fraud and employee theft of medicines, food, vehicles are viewed by investigators as the greatest problems," the report said, adding that "military sources have reported that the Mehdi Army [sic] finances operations from diverted medicines." Corruption 'widespread' In the Ministry of Oil — the most important agency for Iraq’s economy — the report said "corruption is a major problem" when it comes to refined oil products, such as gasoline and kerosene. The report said corruption in the oil ministry is partly to blame for lines of cars stretching for miles as Iraqis wait hours to fill up their tanks. An entire battalion of Iraqi police "was found to be nonexistent" and corruption in the army is "widespread," with ghost employees and a shortage of supplies, according to the report. The report also cites alleged favoritism and selective prosecution. The draft report cited an incident at the Ministry of Oil that implicated the Shiite minister and four other officials, including one Sunni. The other three officials were reportedly Shiites, who were "the only ones capable of giving testimony against the minister." The minister, the report said, then used a technicality in Iraqi law to exempt the three Shiites from prosecution so that only the Sunni went to prison. That technicality he allegedly used is a Saddam Hussein-era law known as Article 136B that was lifted when Americans first occupied the country. The statute was reinstated by the Iraqi government. 'Get out of jail free card' The law allows the prime minister to exempt Cabinet ministers from prosecution and allows ministers to exempt their employees from prosecution. "This is tantamount to a get out of jail free card," Stuart Bowen, the special inspector general for Iraq reconstruction, told NBC. Bowen pointed to the oil ministry case involving the three Shiites as a stark example of the problem. "It exposes the arbitrariness of Article 136B," he said. Bowen said the provision "essentially acts as a bulwark against effective enforcement. If a minister wants to protect an employee from corruption charges, simply by fiat that minister can do so." The top Iraqi anti-corruption investigator, Judge Rahdi al Rahdi, told NBC that "in many important cases, ministers did not give us the permission to take their employees to court, the prime minister's office did not give us permission to take ministers to court." Rahdi said the total amount of missing money involved in his investigations into government misconduct is $11 billion. Corruption is so serious that it is difficult for the government to function, according to Ali Allawi, a former Iraqi government minister. "There's a serious problem in the Ministry of Oil," Allawi said, "There's a serious problem in the Ministry of Health. There's a serious problem in the Ministry of Trade, and really, there's a serious problem in every government department." Americans 'must grin and bear it' Allawi, who has written a book called “The Occupation of Iraq: Winning the War, Losing the Peace,” said corruption has shattered any faith in government. "In some cases there is ... despair that ... corruption has destroyed the ability of the government to provide services," he said. The draft report obtained by NBC outlines some devastating cases in Iraq, like a "guns for cash scheme with the Mehdi Army" involving a candidate for the head of Iraqi intelligence. On top of the troubles of the current oil minister, the report said a former acting minister of oil was indicted — a case blocked by high-ranking officials. In another case a former minister of transportation was indicted. Last week Bowen issued a report finding the U.S. Embassy had not done enough to combat corruption. Allawi argues that U.S. authorities can do little because of the Iraqi officials with whom they are dealing. "The Americans who are supporting this political class, I believe really have no choice. This is a group they have been saddled with, or supported in power, and must grin and bear it," he said. © 2007 MSNBC Interactive

As British Leave, Basra Deteriorates

Violence Rises in Shiite City Once Called a Success Story By Karen DeYoung and Thomas E. Ricks Washington Post Staff Writers Tuesday, August 7, 2007; A01 As British forces pull back from Basra in southern Iraq, Shiite militias there have escalated a violent battle against each other for political supremacy and control over oil resources, deepening concerns among some U.S. officials in Baghdad that elements of Iraq's Shiite-dominated national government will turn on one another once U.S. troops begin to draw down. Three major Shiite political groups are locked in a bloody conflict that has left the city in the hands of militias and criminal gangs, whose control extends to municipal offices and neighborhood streets. The city is plagued by "the systematic misuse of official institutions, political assassinations, tribal vendettas, neighborhood vigilantism and enforcement of social mores, together with the rise of criminal mafias that increasingly intermingle with political actors," a recent report by the International Crisis Group said. After Saddam Hussein was overthrown in April 2003, British forces took control of the region, and the cosmopolitan port city of Basra thrived with trade, arts and universities. As recently as February, Vice President Cheney hailed Basra as a part of Iraq "where things are going pretty well." But "it's hard now to paint Basra as a success story," said a senior U.S. official in Baghdad with long experience in the south. Instead, it has become a different model, one that U.S. officials with experience in the region are concerned will be replicated throughout the Iraqi Shiite homeland from Baghdad to the Persian Gulf. A recent series of war games commissioned by the Pentagon also warned of civil war among Shiites after a reduction in U.S. forces. For the past four years, the administration's narrative of the Iraq war has centered on al-Qaeda, Iran and the sectarian violence they have promoted. But in the homogenous south -- where there are virtually no U.S. troops or al-Qaeda fighters, few Sunnis, and by most accounts limited influence by Iran -- Shiite militias fight one another as well as British troops. A British strategy launched last fall to reclaim Basra neighborhoods from violent actors -- similar to the current U.S. strategy in Baghdad -- brought no lasting success. "The British have basically been defeated in the south," a senior U.S. intelligence official said recently in Baghdad. They are abandoning their former headquarters at Basra Palace, where a recent official visitor from London described them as "surrounded like cowboys and Indians" by militia fighters. An airport base outside the city, where a regional U.S. Embassy office and Britain's remaining 5,500 troops are barricaded behind building-high sandbags, has been attacked with mortars or rockets nearly 600 times over the past four months. Britain sent about 40,000 troops to Iraq -- the second-largest contingent, after that of the United States, at the time of the March 2003 invasion -- and focused its efforts on the south. With few problems from outside terrorists or sectarian violence, the British began withdrawing, and by early 2005 only 9,000 troops remained. British Prime Minister Tony Blair announced further drawdowns early this year before leaving office. The administration has been reluctant to publicly criticize the British withdrawal. But a British defense expert serving as a consultant in Baghdad acknowledged in an e-mail that the United States "has been very concerned for some time now about a) the lawless situation in Basra and b) the political and military impact of the British pullback." The expert added that this "has been expressed at the highest levels" by the U.S. government to British authorities. The government of new Prime Minister Gordon Brown has pointed to the current relative calm in three of the region's four provinces -- barring Basra -- as evidence of success. According to one British official, Brown told President Bush when they met last week at Camp David that Britain hopes to turn Basra over to Iraqi control in the next few months. Although a further drawdown of its forces is likely, Britain will coordinate its remaining presence with Washington after an assessment in September by Gen. David H. Petraeus, the U.S. commander in Iraq. As it prepares to take control of Basra, the government of Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki has dispatched new generals to head the army and police forces there. But the warring militias are part of factions in the government itself, including radical cleric Moqtada al-Sadr -- whose Mahdi Army is believed responsible for most of the recent attacks on the airport compound -- as well as the Fadhila, or Islamic Virtue Party, and the Supreme Islamic Iraqi Council, the country's largest Shiite party. In March, Fadhila pulled out of Maliki's ruling alliance of Shiite parties in Baghdad after it lost control of the petroleum ministry to the Supreme Council. Last week, under pressure from the council, Maliki fired the Fadhila governor of Basra. Fadhila has refused to relinquish power over the governate or over Basra's lucrative oil refineries, calling the Maliki government "the new Baath" -- a reference to Hussein's Sunni-led political party -- and appealed the dismissal to Iraq's constitutional court. Jockeying for political power in Baghdad has long since translated into shooting battles in Basra. The militias have shifted alliances with one another, as well as with the British and with Iran as they fight for control of neighborhoods and resources. With the escalation of street battles and assassinations, much of the population is confined to homes and is fearful of Islamic rules imposed by militias. Although neighbor Iran's presence is pervasive -- with cultural influence, humanitarian aid, arms and money -- U.S. officials and outside experts think that the Iraqi parties are using Iran more than vice versa. Iraqis in the south have long memories of the Iran-Iraq war in the 1980s, one U.S. official said, and when a southern Shiite "wants to tar someone, they call them an Iranian." He said the United States is "always very concerned about Iranian influence, as well we should be, but there is a difference between influence and control. It would be very difficult for the Iranians to establish control." The ICG study described Iran, Britain and the United States as equally confused about what is happening in Basra. During a recent visit there, the U.S. official said, he was unable to meet with any local Iraqis outside the airport base or to travel beyond the secured route between the base and the palace. About 200 Americans are in and around the city, including those assigned to the embassy office, some civilian support personnel and contract security guards. Basra's "security nightmare" has already had devastating effects on Iraq's economy, said Juan Cole, a Middle East specialist at the University of Michigan. Home to two-thirds of Iraq's oil resources, Basra is the country's sole dependable outlet for exporting oil, with a capacity of 1.8 million barrels a day. Much of Basra's violence is "over who gets what cut from Iraq's economic resources," a U.S. Army strategist in Iraq said. Militias and criminal gangs are financed in part by stolen oil smuggled outside the country, even as Iraq lacks enough energy to provide electricity to many of its people. Both the oil industry and the port facilities -- providing Iraq's only maritime access -- have made Basra "a significant prize for local political actors," the ICG said. The current U.S. security operation to "clear, hold and build" in Baghdad and its surroundings is almost a replica of Operation Sinbad, which British and Iraqi forces conducted in Basra from September 2006 to March of this year with a mission of "clear, hold and civil reconstruction." Although Operation Sinbad initially succeeded in lowering crime and political assassinations, attacks rose in the spring and British forces withdrew into their compounds. In the early years of Iraq's occupation, British officials often disdained the U.S. use of armored patrols and heavily protected troops. The British approach of lightly armed foot patrols -- copied from counterinsurgency operations in Northern Ireland -- sought to avoid antagonizing the local population and encourage cooperation. A 2005 report by the defense committee of the House of Commons commended the British army's performance and urged the Ministry of Defense to "use its influence" to get the Americans to take a less aggressive approach. In a recent BBC interview, Air Chief Marshal Jock Stirrup, chief of the British defense staff, insisted that Basra has been a success. But he acknowledged that judgment depended on "what your interpretation of the mission was in the first place," adding: "I'm afraid people had, in many instances, unrealistic aspirations." The mission, he said, was simply to "get the place and the people to a state where Iraqis could run this part of the country, if they chose to."

Elvis Presley - Suspicious Minds

Looting fear as Iraqi state library seized

Michael Howard in Irbil Friday August 10, 2007 The Guardian Thousands of rare books and manuscripts in Iraq's national library and archive, one of the country's most important cultural institutions, are in peril after the occupation of the building by Iraqi security forces, the library's director said yesterday. Saad Eskander, a respected Kurdish historian who has run the library since 2003, told the Guardian that up to 20 Iraqi troops had seized the building at gunpoint yesterday, threatening staff and guards. "They have turned our national archive into a military target," he said. "Tomorrow or the day after, the extremists will attack the Iraqi forces there." He said the soldiers, who said they had occupied the building to defend Shia worshippers heading to the shrine of Khadimiya, about 15 miles away, had positioned themselves on the roof of the library. They had already started to dismantle the main gate, and had smashed doors and windows inside the main building, he said. The national library and archive stands on the east bank of the Tigris, close to the old defence ministry, now a military outpost for Iraqi and US troops. The area is a hotbed of insurgent activity. "The reckless actions of the Iraqi forces and the US military, who appear to condone the operation, will put the staff and library and archival collections in real danger," said Mr Eskander. He fears soldiers may start looting the building "or even set fire to it". "We are like many ordinary citizens, caught between the extremists and terrorist on one side, and the Iraqi and US army on their other," he said, vowing he would hold both US army and the Iraqi military responsible for all losses and casualties. No one from the defence ministry or US military could be reached for comment. Like Iraq's national museum, the library and archive was badly damaged in the chaos that gripped Baghdad following the collapse of Saddam's regime. Large parts were gutted by arsonists, and pillaged by looters. More seriously, the library estimated it lost 25% of its collections, including many rare books, while the archive lost 60% of its collections, including irreplaceable records from the Ottoman era. Since then, Mr Eskander and his team have rebuilt the library and archive, winning respect around the world. He has also kept a blog detailing his daily travails and the plight of his city. It can be read on the British Library website. "By any measure, he has done a remarkable job amid very difficult circumstances," said Andy Stephens of the British Library. "He is a Kurd and has resisted the pressure of sectarian and political influence on his work." Mr Eskander said: "We don't have anyone to support us here in Iraq ... You can see there is a hostility to us. They don't want liberal secular-oriented people running cultural institutions."

Fatigue cripples US army in Iraq

Exhaustion and combat stress are besieging US troops in Iraq as they battle with a new type of warfare. Some even rely on Red Bull to get through the day. As desertions and absences increase, the military is struggling to cope with the crisis Peter Beaumont in Baghdad Sunday August 12, 2007 Observer Lieutenant Clay Hanna looks sick and white. Like his colleagues he does not seem to sleep. Hanna says he catches up by napping on a cot between operations in the command centre, amid the noise of radio. He is up at 6am and tries to go to sleep by 2am or 3am. But there are operations to go on, planning to be done and after-action reports that need to be written. And war interposes its own deadly agenda that requires his attention and wakes him up. When he emerges from his naps there is something old and paper-thin about his skin, something sketchy about his movements as the days go by. The Americans he commands, like the other men at Sullivan - a combat outpost in Zafraniya, south east Baghdad - hit their cots when they get in from operations. But even when they wake up there is something tired and groggy about them. They are on duty for five days at a time and off for two days. When they get back to the forward operating base, they do their laundry and sleep and count the days until they will get home. It is an exhaustion that accumulates over the patrols and the rotations, over the multiple deployments, until it all joins up, wiping out any memory of leave or time at home. Until life is nothing but Iraq. Hanna and his men are not alone in being tired most of the time. A whole army is exhausted and worn out. You see the young soldiers washed up like driftwood at Baghdad's international airport, waiting to go on leave or returning to their units, sleeping on their body armour on floors and in the dust. Where once the war in Iraq was defined in conversations with these men by untenable ideas - bringing democracy or defeating al-Qaeda - these days the war in Iraq is defined by different ways of expressing the idea of being weary. It is a theme that is endlessly reiterated as you travel around Iraq. 'The army is worn out. We are just keeping people in theatre who are exhausted,' says a soldier working for the US army public affairs office who is supposed to be telling me how well things have been going since the 'surge' in Baghdad began. They are not supposed to talk like this. We are driving and another of the public affairs team adds bitterly: 'We should just be allowed to tell the media what is happening here. Let them know that people are worn out. So that their families know back home. But it's like we've become no more than numbers now.' The first soldier starts in again. 'My husband was injured here. He hit an improvised explosive device. He already had a spinal injury. The blast shook out the plates. He's home now and has serious issues adapting. But I'm not allowed to go back home to see him. If I wanted to see him I'd have to take leave time (two weeks). And the army counts it.' A week later, in the northern city of Mosul, an officer talks privately. 'We're plodding through this,' he says after another patrol and another ambush in the city centre. 'I don't know how much more plodding we've got left in us.' When the soldiers talk like this there is resignation. There is a corrosive anger, too, that bubbles out, like the words pouring unbidden from a chaplain's assistant who has come to bless a patrol. 'Why don't you tell the truth? Why don't you journalists write that this army is exhausted?' It is a weariness that has created its own culture of superstition. There are vehicle commanders who will not let the infantrymen in the back fall asleep on long operations - not because they want the men alert, but because, they say, bad things happen when people fall asleep. So the soldiers drink multiple cans of Rip It and Red Bull to stay alert and wired. But the exhaustion of the US army emerges most powerfully in the details of these soldiers' frayed and worn-out lives. Everywhere you go you hear the same complaints: soldiers talk about divorces, or problems with the girlfriends that they don't see, or about the children who have been born and who are growing up largely without them. 'I counted it the other day,' says a major whose partner is also a soldier. 'We have been married for five years. We added up the days. Because of Iraq and Afghanistan we have been together for just seven months. Seven months ... We are in a bad place. I don't know whether this marriage can survive it.' The anecdotal evidence on the ground confirms what others - prominent among them General Colin Powell, the former US Secretary of State - have been insisting for months now: that the US army is 'about broken'. Only a third of the regular army's brigades now qualify as combat-ready. Officers educated at the elite West Point academy are leaving at a rate not seen in 30 years, with the consequence that the US army has a shortfall of 3,000 commissioned officers - and the problem is expected to worsen. And it is not only the soldiers that are worn out. The wars in Iraq and Afghanistan have led to the destruction, or wearing out, of 40 per cent of the US army's equipment, totalling at a recent count $212bn (£105bn). But it is in the soldiers themselves - and in the ordinary stories they tell - that the exhaustion of the US military is most obvious, coming amid warnings that soldiers serving multiple Iraq deployments, now amounting to several years, are 50 per cent more likely than those with one tour to suffer from acute combat stress. The army's exhaustion is reflected in problems such as the rate of desertion and unauthorised absences - a problem, it was revealed earlier this year, that had increased threefold on the period before the war in Afghanistan and had resulted in thousands of negative discharges. 'They are scraping to get people to go back and people are worn out,' said Thomas Grieger, a senior US navy psychiatrist, told the International Herald Tribune in April. 'Modern war is exhausting,' says Major Stacie Caswell, an occupational therapist with a combat stress unit attached to the military hospital in Mosul. Her unit runs long group sessions to help soldiers with emerging mental health and discipline problems: often they have seen friends killed and injured, or are having problems stemming from issues at home - responsible for 50 to 60 per cent of their cases. One of the most common problems in Iraq is sleep disorders. 'This is a different kind of war,' says Caswell. 'In World War II it was clear who the good guys and the bad guys were. You knew what you would go through on the battlefield.' Now she says the threat is all around. And soldiering has changed. 'Now we have so many things to do...' 'And the soldier in Vietnam,' interjects Sergeant John Valentine from the same unit, 'did not get to see the coverage from home that these soldiers do. We see what is going on at home on the political scene. They think the war is going to end. Then we have the frustration and confusion. That is fatiguing. Mentally tiring.' 'Not only that,' says Caswell, 'but because of the nature of what we do now, the number of tasks in comparison with previous generations - even as you are finishing your 15 months here you are immediately planning and training for your next tour.' Valentine adds: 'There is no decompression.' The consequence is a deep-seated problem of retention and recruitment that in turn, says Caswell, has led the US army to reduce its standards for joining the military, particularly over the issue of no longer looking too hard at any previous history of mental illness. 'It is a question of honesty, and we are not investigating too deeply or we are issuing waivers. The consequence is that we are seeing people who do not have the same coping skills when they get here, and this can be difficult. 'We are also seeing older soldiers coming in - up to 41 years old - and that is causing its own problems. They have difficulty dealing with the physical impact of the war and also interacting with the younger men.' Valentine says: 'We are not only watering down the quality of the soldiers but the leadership too. The good leaders get out. I've seen it. And right now we are on the down slope.' 'War tsar' calls for return of the draft to take the strain America's 'war tsar' has called for the nation's political leaders to consider bringing back the draft to help a military exhausted by wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. In a radio interview, Lieutenant General Douglas Lute said the option had always been open to boost America's all-volunteer army by drafting in young men in the same way as happened in Vietnam. 'I think it makes sense to consider it,' he said. Lute was appointed 'war tsar' earlier this year after President Bush decided a single figure was needed to oversee the nation's military efforts abroad. Rumours of a return to the draft have long circulated in military circles as the pressure from fighting two large conflicts at the same time builds on America's forces. However, politically it would be extremely difficult to achieve, especially for any leader hoping to be elected in 2008. Bush has previously ruled out the suggestion as unnecessary. Lute, however, said the war was causing stress to military families and, as a result, was having an impact on levels of re-enlistment. 'This kind of stress plays out across dinner tables and in living-room conversations within these families. Ultimately the health of the all-volunteer force is going to rest on those sorts of personal family decisions,' he said. A draft would revive bad memories of the turmoil of the 1960s and early 1970s when tens of thousands of young men were drafted to fight and die in Vietnam. Few other policies proved as divisive in America and the memories of anti-war protesters burning their draft cards and fleeing to Canada are still vivid in the memory. Guardian Unlimited © Guardian News and Media Limited 2007

Military families live in dread, while the rest of America is busy shopping

With the army stretched by Iraq to the brink of restoring the draft, US politicians rely on the distraction of a tax cut Gary Younge Monday August 13, 2007 The Guardian Mom, I had another friend die today from a massive ied [improvised explosive device] and many more wounded with shattered bones and scrapes. We used to be in the same platoon. 1st platoon and the same squad when I first arrived at fort hood for a good 7 months or so. He was 17 then and barely a day over 19 now that he has passed away. It's tearing me up so badly inside. I just can't stand it. I can't get rid of the feeling that I probably won't make it home from this war. I have this horrible feeling that his fate will soon become my own. I don't want to die here Mom. Don't tell Erin bc I know it will devastate her. But if somehow I don't make it, I want you Mom and Dad and all the family and especially Erin to know I love you all so so much and appreciate everything you all have done for me in the thick and thin. The most important thing I want you all to do, is to use all of your connections to do everything in your will to use my death as a tool with the media to end this pointless war. Contact Michael Moore or whomever it may be to get the word out about how disgusted with our government I am about forcing us to come here to wait for death to claim us. I want it to end. How many more friends, sons, daughters, mothers, and dads must die here before they say it's enough? And if you don't die, the worst part you have to live with is the guilt of surviving. Surviving this war and not dying like your buddies to your left and to your right in combat. I love you all so so much. love, Zach Wednesday August 8 2007, Baghdad 'Death," said Donald Rumsfeld, the former United States defence secretary, "has a tendency to encourage a depressing view of war." Zach Flory, 23, didn't start his military career depressed. He enlisted full of idealism about the potential of American power. Raised in Clinton, Iowa, on the banks of the Mississippi, he came home on September 11 and asked his parents for permission to join the military. They refused. They wanted him to finish high school first. "He was a young man with a conscience," said his mother, Marcia, who has always been opposed to the war. "He wanted to make things right." They hoped he would change his mind. He didn't. In February 2004 he enlisted in the first cavalry infantry division and signed a three-year contract. He did his time, serving in South Korea and Texas, and should have been discharged in June. Instead, the army forced him to extend his service by a year in what is known as the stop-loss programme - a form of indentured servitude that can keep soldiers working beyond the expiration of their contract for several years - and sent him to Iraq. Shortly before he left he married Erin, whom he has known since childhood. "Zach's greatest fear is to have to shoot innocent civilians," said Marcia shortly after he left. "What is this war doing to our fine young men and women?" Even as Iraq has dominated America's political stage it has occupied a parallel universe in mainstream society. Military families may listen intently to every news report and live in constant fear of a visit from two uniformed officers in the wee hours. But the rest of the nation is shopping. This is the only war in modern American history that has coincided with a tax cut. "People seem to think war is OK as long as it is someone else's kid doing the fighting," says Zach's dad, Don. Serving in it falls on the shoulders of the poor and the dark, who are over-represented in the military. And the casualties fall disproportionately on white men from small towns - like Donald Young, Zach's recently departed teenage friend. Iraq remains the number one issue of political concern, but it is rarely the central topic of conversation. Needless to say, Iraqi deaths barely feature at all. The US military, which ostensibly came to liberate Iraqis, does not even count their corpses. So their death toll is approximate - rounded up or down by the thousand rather than counted individually. We'll never know what tender words an insurgent might send to a family member following the death of a fellow combatant, let alone the final farewell of an unsuspecting civilian slain by American troops or a car bombing. Perhaps if we did, it would help those with a limited imagination and compassion humanise the horrors of this war more easily. Fortunately, this is not a competition. Unfortunately, there is enough misery to go around. This is an American story. A tale of imperial overreach, military fatigue and political hubris as it affects a midwestern boy in a far away land who wants to get home. "You can tell a true war story if it embarrasses you," wrote Tim O'Brien in his Vietnam war novel, The Things They Carried. "If you don't care for obscenity, you don't care for the truth; if you don't care for the truth, watch how you vote. Send guys to war, they come home talking dirty." The army is "about broken", said retired general Colin Powell last year - before Bush announced an escalation in troop numbers. British military standards dictate that a soldier should have two years at home for every six months deployed and that anything less than this 4:1 ratio could "break the army". American troops currently serve 15 months followed by less than a year's rest - a ratio of 4:5. US military leaders deny the army is strained. But in recent years they have lowered standards and changed entry requirements in order to bolster flagging recruitment, including a push to attract non-citizens and to lift the upper age limit for new recruits. Since 2001 it has raised by half the rate at which it grants "moral waivers" to potential recruits who have committed misdemeanours and lowered the educational level required. Steven Green, the former soldier who now faces the death penalty on charges of raping a 14-year-old Iraqi girl and murdering her family in Mahmoudiya, entered the military on one such waiver. On Friday the president's new war adviser, Lieutenant General Douglas Lute, said it was time to think about restoring the draft. "I think it makes sense to certainly consider it," he said, suggesting that some soldiers' families could soon reach breaking point themselves. "And I can tell you, this has always been an option on the table." There is gruesome irony in the fact that such a possibility should come from an administration headed by a president who dodged the draft and a vice-president who "had other priorities" than serving in Vietnam. But American conservatives have a curious inability to put their children where their mouth is when it comes to the war. All of the main Republican contenders back it; none of their children are in it. On the day that Zach sent his email home, Republican frontrunner Mitt Romney addressed a town hall meeting 50 miles from his home town. Romney was asked why none of his children are serving in the military. "One of the ways my sons are showing support for our nation is helping me get elected because they think I'd be a great president," he said. g.younge@guardian.co.uk

Mark Steel: Atheists and believers have got religion wrong

There's a modern brand of militant atheist that can appear horribly smug and superior Published: 15 August 2007 Whenever there's an argument between those who claim the religious are ethically superior, and the Richard Dawkins-following fans of atheism, I want someone to bang the table and shout "Oy - you're all wrong." For example, a column in this paper claimed, "Judaeo-Christian religion devotes itself principally to instructing its adherents in how to behave well in their dealings with others." Someone ought to try this out, and apply to be a Rabbi or the Pope by saying, "I don't really care for God, but I always give up my seat to old women on the bus. When can I start?" Also, Judaeo-Christian religion pays some regard to the Bible, which is full of instructions to behave well, such as the one in the book of Deuteronomy, "In the cities of the nations the Lord your God is giving you as an inheritance, do not leave anything alive that breathes. Otherwise you will sin against the Lord your God." Anything that breathes? Even Hitler left it at humans. But that's not enough for the Bible, that screams, "The trouble with genocide is it's too soft. It takes no account of lizards." Clearly most modern Christians don't go along with this, and they say the Bible isn't meant to be taken that literally. Which seems a bit of a cop-out, as it is the Bible. It's like a political party issuing this statement in a manifesto, and then when they're questioned about it saying, "Oh I wouldn't take any notice of that. It's more of a long-term goal than a commitment." The idea that religious people are more moral or better at behaving well than atheists is hard to show. From the Spanish Inquisition to Cliff Richard they've got to make a lot of excuses. But equally, there's no clear case in blaming everything on religion. For example, the conflict between Protestants and Catholics in Northern Ireland was evidently about more than that. When Loyalists chucked stones into a Catholic estate they weren't thinking, "Transubstantiation my arse." Because it's not ideas that drive actions such as these, it's circumstances. There have been few religious ideas that, on the face of it, are more batty than the beliefs of the Nation of Islam. If they're right, then apparently white people were all bred by an evil doctor on an island over a period of thousands of years, and there's a flying saucer involved as well. But when seen in context, from the point of view of black people angry at segregated, lynch-happy America, the devils theory could make sense. Similarly, modern Islam is shaped by events in Palestine and Iraq, which has led millions of Muslims to conclude that Western governments have got it in for them. If you start from the point that circumstances drive ideas, then as a non-Muslim you can engage with Muslims in discussing how to deal with George Bush's Project for the American Century. If you start from the point of view that all religion is nutty, you've got nothing more to say to a Muslim than, "How can a mountain move, you idiot?" There's a modern brand of militant atheist that can appear horribly smug and superior. It's an attitude that can be summed up as, "Aren't religious people stupid? All over Africa they're stupid, and the Middle-East. And the Romans, believing in all those two-headed animals, the morons. Aristotle with his unmoved moving God, as if. Descartes, Isaac Newton, Bob Marley, they all fell for it. In fact everyone who ever lived up to about 1800, and most people since then have been stupid stupid stupid." Or worse, there's these patronising stuck-up columns that go, "Aren't these Afghan peasants awful? I mean, I took the trouble to read Voltaire and Hume at university so why can't they? Their sexual politics is frankly shocking, and there's no excuse these days because with the internet they could order Armistead Maupin novels on Amazon and they'd be out to the caves of Tora Bora within a fortnight. I think the time has come for decent mountain tribes to say to these sexist types if they don't change their ways they won't be invited to any dinner parties or any openings of art galleries." There's always a rational basis to the irrationality of religion, and however bizarre, religious ideas usually reflect the reality of people's lives. So the Christianity of a Mexican landless peasant takes a different form from the Christianity of Tony Blair. In a just and fair world, these ideas would be no more harmful than the irrational following people have for football teams. Maybe they'd even be more relaxed about people taking the piss, with other religions allowed into the away end of the temple, where they could chant, "Who ate all the wafers?"; "You're damned - and you know you are"; and "Can you hear the Trappists sing - I can't hear a thing."

You Worry Too Much

Oh soul, you worry too much. You say, I make you feel dizzy. Of a little headache then, why do you worry? You say, I am your antelope. Of seeing a lion here and there why do you worry? Oh soul, you worry too much. You say, I am your moon-faced beauty. Of the cycles of the moon and passing of the years, why do you worry? You say, I am your source of passion, I excite you. Of playing into the Devils hand, why do you worry? Oh soul, you worry too much. Look at yourself, what you have become. You are now a field of sugar canes, why show that sour face to me? You have tamed the winged horse of Love. Of a death of a donkey, why do you worry? You say that I keep you warm inside. Then why this cold sigh? You have gone to the roof of heavens. Of this world of dust, why do you worry? Oh soul, you worry too much. Since you met me, you have become a master singer, and are now a skilled wrangler, you can untangle any knot. Of life's little leash why do you worry? Your arms are heavy with treasures of all kinds. About poverty, why do you worry? You are Joseph, beautiful, strong, steadfast in your belief, all of Egypt has become drunk because of you. Of those who are blind to your beauty, and deaf to your songs, why do you worry? Oh soul, you worry too much. You say that your housemate is the Heart of Love, she is your best friend. You say that you are the heat of the oven of every Lover. You say that you are the servant of Ali's magical sword, Zolfaghar. Of any little dagger why do you still worry? Oh soul, you worry too much. You have seen your own strength. You have seen your own beauty. You have seen your golden wings. Of anything less, why do you worry? You are in truth the soul, of the soul, of the soul. You are the security, the shelter of the spirit of Lovers. Oh the sultan of sultans, of any other king, why do you worry? Be silent, like a fish, and go into that pleasant sea. You are in deep waters now, of life's blazing fire. Why do you worry?

Faith that is set in stone

August 14, 2007 Jehovah’s Witnesses are taking Bible tours of the British Museum. Our correspondent loses patience with the prophecy Josh Spero Among the Greek goddesses and Assyrian altars of the British Museum can be heard the growing rumble of the imminent Apocalypse. At least, that’s what the Jehovah’s Witnesses who gather there every Saturday tell me. Even if I’m a bit deaf to it, they’re not – and they’re using the Museum to prove it. These Witnesses are going on Bible tours, where they are taken around the museum to see objects relating to history and prophecies as given in Scripture. They are turns round the Classical world with an Apocalyptic twist. With a variety of routes and subjects, hundreds of people – not exclusively Witnesses – turn up each week. Many of them come from abroad, some especially to go on the tours. One such woman, from Zimbabwe, segues smoothly and without irony from talking about Harare’s terrible problems to cheerfully predicting the end of the world. If the Bible’s prophecies are right – and they are, she says – “The good times are here!” Never before has Armageddon sounded so cheery. The tourists I meet take pains to stress that their faith is not in stones but in Scripture, a sentiment seemingly at odds with the tours’ purpose: who needs physical proof for a fundamental belief? Nor do any of them see the tours as a Da Vinci Code backlash – although the setting and the methods summon up the comparison. All that’s really missing is the ominous music and an albino monk. Emmanuel Zervides is the charismatic, learned showman at the centre of the tours. A Greek forced out of Egypt after Nasser’s expulsion of nonnationals, he moved to London and started taking tours in 1970. Since then, they have expanded into a non-profit-making venture with a dozen volunteer guides. All tourists are asked to donate 50p to the Museum. According to Zervides, the tours have raised £150,000 for the British Museum since 1989. He cuts quite a dash as he takes the first tour – a greying Barnum presiding over stone lions. He darts between objects as he keeps us in suspense about the significance of the 13 Israelites on the Black Obelisk of Shalmaneser III (they stand for each tribe of Israel) and wildly waves his hands while explaining the deficiencies of Assyrian sculpture (all too flat and lifeless). The showmanship is tremendously entertaining and does nothing to detract from his lucid history lesson, which uses the museum’s artefacts as evidence to be questioned and eventually reconciled with the Bible. It resembles a vivid university tutorial, given by a teacher with a flair for amateur dramatics; Zervides pause pointedly before stage-whispering his thesis: “Don’t you see? The stones are crying out!” Zervides’s showmanship would have helped Gary Hollington, another guide, who led the second tour – it would at least have distracted from the flaws in his argument. The tour, called “This is history written in advance”, purported to tie down prophecies in the Book of Daniel to Greek and Roman items fabricated centuries afterwards, such as busts of the early Roman Emperors and coins struck by Alexander the Great. Unfortunately Hollington neglected to mention the dispute over the date of Daniel; prophecies work much better when they predate the events they foretell. But if these were prophecies and they are true, the Witnesses hold, then all the others in Scripture – including the rapid approach of the Apocalypse, as calculated and then recalculated by the Witnesses – must be true. What starts out, however, as a whistle-stop plunge through Classical history ends up as a lesson in dubious hermeneutics. Take Daniel xi, 5, cited as a proven prophecy: “Then the King of the South shall grow strong, but one of his officers shall grow stronger than he and shall rule a realm greater than his own realm.” The first half is said to relate to Ptolemy, one of Alexander’s heirs, who indeed grew strong. Yet the second half of the sentence, which contradicts historical reality because no officer did grow stronger than this heir, is apparently a separate prophecy. It’s a buffet approach to the Bible, picking what suits regardless of order or logic. I got scowls from my fellow tourists for asking about this, and Hollington, who earlier said that Daniel specifically predicted Alexander would have four heirs, none of whom were his children, told me that Daniel couldn’t know all the details of future history. Another of my suggestions, that one of Hollington’s interpretations might be a bit tenuous and ignore actual history, was greeted with a rab-bit-in-the-headlights look as he stood beside a bust of the Emperor Titus. When discussing my queries afterwards, Zervides reached for the excuses: “I studied the Bible but I can’t remember all of it”; “I can get back to you with an explanation of that”. Gary contributed his own: “I don’t claim to know every bit of the Bible.” Not even the second half of a verse you were just explaining? No. These tours are decent introductions to Classical history led by experienced guides. But as soon as there is talk of prophecies or Scripture – and challenges to interpretations – it becomes nothing more than a Bible-versus-reason debate: as Zervides says, “You still need faith to understand it.” In the British Museum, the glorious product of the Enlightenment, this is a profoundly disturbing sentiment. And still the Apocalypse rumbles away, as imminent as ever.

Order without law: Hamas flexes its muscles to assert political authority

Gaza Palestinians welcome safer streets but Fatah rivalry is a volatile undercurrent Rory McCarthy in Gaza City Thursday August 16, 2007 Guardian Six guards from the Hamas Executive Force stood before the shopping crowds in Palestine Square. The men, who are what passes for a police force in Gaza, were dressed in black and armed with Kalashnikovs and wooden batons. In the pick-up truck behind them was an unhappy man arrested for carrying a knife. Ahead was their next target: dozens of cigarette sellers hawking under the flimsy shade of a few trees. Although it was not the most pressing security concern in the overcrowded Gaza Strip, it was still a mission that Munir Mohasin, 21, the thin, young patrol commander, took seriously. He said: "We want this place cleaned up. It's not legal for them to stop and sell here. We've had complaints from the shopkeepers and we had complaints that some of them are being rude to women. Some are selling drugs." His patrol then descended on the hawkers, shouting and shoving until they had confiscated several large boxes of cigarettes and loaded them into their pick-up. Two sellers were arrested; others escaped with a public telling-off. The sellers, all struggling to make a living, argued back. "There's nowhere else for us to go," Khader Abu Amjad shouted at Mr Mohasin. "Are we just going to play cat and mouse all day?" After several minutes in the midday heat and more shouting, the Executive Force moved on and the hawkers went back to selling their cigarettes. Later, back at his local station, Mr Mohasin said: "We're not just stopping people selling in the street; we're working for the security of our country." This has been the message from the Islamist Hamas movement since it seized full control of security in the Gaza Strip two months ago, the culmination of a six-month near-civil war with its rival, Fatah. Palestinians welcomed the return to safety on the streets and the chance to leave their homes without fear, a point Hamas is keen to highlight. The Hamas-led government was promptly sacked and has now been further isolated by Israel, the west, and Fatah leaders in the occupied West Bank. Now there is growing concern about steps taken by Hamas in recent weeks that appear to go well beyond maintaining order and suggest that it is trying to extend its authority. Two weeks ago Hamas took off air The Red Line, a weekly political chatshow that has been hosted for the past decade by Hassan al-Kashef. Although a secular leftist and a former head of the Palestinian Authority's information ministry, Mr Kashef, 63, had hosted several Hamas leaders on his show in the past year, including Ismail Haniyeh, the former prime minister, and, by satellite link from Damascus, Khaled Meshal, Hamas's leader in exile. Recently he broadcast a show about Gaza's economic woes and began by saying what he thought of Hamas. "I was clear that I am with one law, one authority, one legitimate government and that I am against the coup," he said. A few days later, an unsigned letter was received from the Hamas information ministry ordering the TV station not to broadcast The Red Line again. It has been off air ever since. "Hamas made a military coup and now it is making a political coup. But they don't have political experience," said Mr Kashef. "There isn't just one voice in Gaza." Last month Hamas organised a tour for foreign journalists, a rare foray into public relations to show off what it called "the new face of Gaza: safe, clean and green". But the same day the Executive Force detained several media distributors bringing in Palestinian newspapers from the West Bank. Sami al-Qishawi, director of Gaza's Al-Ayyam newspaper, said the guards were angry over a report of a press conference in Gaza City by a Hamas opponent. "It is a dangerous sign of control, of trying to have just one voice, of restricting our freedom," said Mr Qishawi. He said although his paper was close to Fatah it was independently financed and had not been alone in reporting the press conference. "We can't just report statistics and the number of people killed," he said. "To make any progress in solving our problems we need to talk about important issues, about freedoms." A week earlier, a group of armed men, some in masks, others in police uniforms, broke into the office of a Fatah MP in Rafah, southern Gaza. Ashraf Jumaa, one of only a handful of Fatah politicians who has stayed in Gaza, was beaten on the head with a rifle butt and an aide was shot in the leg in what appeared to be a warning. Mr Jumaa insists some of the attackers were members of the Hamas militia, the Izzedin al-Qassam Brigades. "We're in a very bad situation now," said Mr Jumaa. "Hamas says it wants to talk to Fatah but they have to prepare the ground for negotiations, not just say they want it." Other incidents underscore the continued volatility of factional rivalry here. Several Fatah security officials have been killed this month. Last week, the director of Gaza's main Shifa hospital was sacked and another senior doctor was sacked and arrested, apparently because they refused to take orders from Hamas ministries. On Saturday, 15 Fatah figures were arrested by Hamas men after clashes at a wedding where the guests sang Fatah songs. On Monday Hamas guards fired into the air to disperse a Fatah rally in the city and imposed restrictions on public rallies. Gazans are debating whether these incidents have been ordered by Hamas leaders or local commanders acting independently. Hamas is trying to exert its authority in a complex, politicised climate. The appointed government in the West Bank has told police and lawyers in Gaza to stay away from work or risk losing their salaries. As a result, courts are not working and Hamas is policing with its 6,000-strong Executive Force, a year-old paramilitary group which the West Bank government declared illegal. One prominent Palestinian businessman described it as "order without law". There is also an economic crisis and a collapse of private businesses unable to import or export goods since Israel closed Gaza's crossings to all but humanitarian aid after Hamas took over. In the West Bank, Hamas politicians have been harassed and arrested. Hamas says it is just trying to impose order in an increasingly chaotic Gaza. "People feel for the first time there is a full degree of freedom," said Ahmed Yusuf, an adviser to the former premier Mr Haniyeh. "There is a new look here in Gaza ... There is really a state of law." He downplayed recent incidents. There had been political problems with Palestine TV, which broadcast Mr Kashef's chatshow and is close to Fatah, he said. On the arrest of the newspaper distributors, he blamed an overzealous local commander. He insisted Hamas was not involved in the attack on Mr Jumaa, the Fatah MP. "We are not building an Islamic state in Gaza or anything that would be a separate entity," Mr Yusuf said. Apart from security, the public goal of Hamas now is to return to an agreement with Fatah and secure the elusive reform of the many Palestinian security forces. Although there is little sign of any rapprochement, he said secret talks were under way. "We want to bring them [Fatah] to the table to see how we salvage the problem." Guardian Unlimited © Guardian News and Media Limited 2007

Cheney '94: Invading Baghdad Would Create Quagmire C-SPAN

The insurgents hate us

They play a crucial part in helping journalists to cover the Iraq war but their highly dangerous work is largely unheralded. Here an Iraqi 'fixer' tells his story Ayub Nuri Monday August 6, 2007 Guardian I became a fixer shortly before the US-led invasion of Iraq in 2003. A man drove me to a house in the northern town of Sulaimaniya where two American journalists needed an interpreter to do an interview. They worked for the New York Times Magazine: Elizabeth Rubin, a writer, and Lynsey Addario, a photographer. They were sitting with a local Kurdish commander, waiting for someone to help them talk to him. When the interview was finished, they asked me to be their "fixer". In a war zone, a fixer is a journalist's interpreter, guide, source finder and occasional life saver. I was offered $100 a day, about 25 times what I could make as an English teacher. I spent the next three years as a fixer and watched as my country learned a painful lesson: sometimes when you try to fix something, you break it even more. When Baghdad fell, in April 2003, I went south to the capital. I quickly became friends with fixers for National Public Radio, Knight Ridder, the Boston Globe, the BBC and the Times. I supported the war, as did many of my countrymen and pretty much all the fixers. We thought that only a powerful outside force could take on the job of ousting the dreadful Saddam. The war also brought an economic boom. In some streets, the pavements were piled with boxes containing TV sets, air conditioners and other appliances. People thought Iraq would become a kind of 51st state of the US. But then the war entered a new phase. A few weeks after President Bush's announcement that combat operations were over, American troops were battling insurgents across Iraq. My responsibilities as a fixer were rapidly expanding. I was not only taking reporters around the country and interpreting for them and then choosing safe routes home, but I was also finding people to be interviewed. Then, five months into the new phase of the war, I met Quil Lawrence, an American reporter for the BBC who worked for the show The World. Every morning, Quil and I would set out for interviews along with our driver, Abdulrazzaq. We did political reports as well as human-interest stories on reconstruction, the printing of new textbooks, the release of new albums by local singers. From the beginning, I watched carefully as reporters asked questions. When I began working with radio reporters, I also learned the techniques of recording. Other Iraqi journalists were getting a similar education. During Saddam's regime, the media were controlled by the state, and journalism was not an enviable profession. But only a few months after Saddam was toppled, there were more than 100 newspapers being published in Baghdad alone. It was a turning point in the history of the Iraqi media. Soon, however, the situation in Iraq grew much worse. The insurgency spread to cities, and all foreign nationals became targets. The insurgents hated fixers. They called us "collaborators". They broke into my apartment three times in Baghdad, but luckily I wasn't there. Many of my fixer friends received letters from armed groups ordering them to quit their jobs or they would be killed. At times, fixers have been killed without warning. Just two weeks ago, Khalid W. Hassan, a 23-year-old interpreter and reporter with the New York Times in Baghdad, was on his way to the bureau when he was stopped by gunmen and shot dead. Though fixers run as many, and often more, risks than western reporters, we haven't had the same protections. There have been no guidelines on what we should wear or when it is OK for us to travel for a story. As Iraqi natives, we have been expected to use our judgment about these things. And while American news organisations have often supported fixers' applications for visas to the US, the US government does not see itself as having a special obligation to them. Many Americans don't realise how central Iraqis are to bringing them the news they read every morning. But most of the journalists we worked with knew, even before we did, that they would come to rely on us more and more. One day, Quil and I were sitting in our hotel-room studio when he turned to me and said it was time for me to learn how to edit sound on the computer and file radio pieces myself. I asked him why. "One day we won't be able to come to this country any more," he said. "You fixers will have to replace us." I began going out with the radio equipment to interview the police, militia leaders and people on the street. I would take the tape back to the hotel and give it to the reporter or reporters I was working for. Sometimes a reporter would call me on my cellphone and tell me whom to interview and even what questions to ask. And sometimes I would do my own article. Some fixers had so much autonomy that after doing interviews and research for an article they would get a byline in a foreign paper. In the autumn of 2004 Iraq's political parties were preparing for general elections. At the same time, American troops were preparing for their second attack on Falluja - to make the city "safe for voters," they said. In this assault many hundreds of Iraqis, including civilians, were killed. Quil told me it was time for me to do my own radio pieces. With the recording equipment in my bag, I went to the headquarters of the Supreme Islamic Iraqi Council. A man in a blue suit introduced himself as the party's spokesman. Over the next two days I met a range of politicians and people in the street. The Iraqis I talked to were angry about the plan to attack Falluja. I took the tapes back to the office, and I sat down to write my script. Finally it was time to read my piece over an ISDN line that would allow me to be recorded in the studios in Boston. The only way for me to listen to my story was via the internet, so I logged in and listened to it over and over again. I was not paid for that story because I was still in training, but my "sign off" dream had finally come true. "For The World, this is Ayub Nuri, in Baghdad." There was so much for me to learn. I especially wanted to improve my writing skills so that I might one day write for foreign newspapers. My American journalist friends encouraged me to apply to Columbia University's journalism school. Last summer, I received a scholarship from Columbia. I was very excited to begin that new experience and get away from the war for a while. Several other Iraqi fixers have also gone to the US to attend journalism school. When we left Iraq, we were all planning to go back after graduation. But the worsening war has made return all but impossible. We are stranded here. Every time we speak with our families on the phone, they tell us not to come home. "At least one less person to worry about," they say. Many of the fixers fled Iraq and are now refugees in neighbouring countries. Some of those who remained have big families to feed, so they stay. But some fixers I know refuse to leave the country merely out of loyalty to their trade. We welcomed the US war with a lot of hope. We changed careers and became fixers to help Iraq. Some of us paid with our lives. Now we are no longer sure we will ever be able to fix anything. · This article first appeared in the New York Times magazine

Iranian morals police arrest 230 in raid on 'satanist' rave

Robert Tait in Tehran Monday August 6, 2007 Guardian Iran's drive to enforce Islamic morals netted revellers from Britain and Sweden after police swooped on a "satanic" concert organised over the internet. Police arrested 230 people and seized drugs, alcohol and 800 illicit CDs after raiding the event in Karaj, 12 miles west of Tehran. Those arrested included young women in skimpy and "inappropriate" clothing, officers said. Reza Zarei, Tehran's provincial police chief, said the operation also resulted in the confiscation of 20 video cameras, with which organisers allegedly planned to shoot "obscene" films and then blackmail female participants. The event included rock and rap performers as well as female singers, who are banned under Iran's Islamic laws. The authorities described the artistes as "satanist" without elaborating. Iran's rulers routinely label much of western-style popular music and culture as decadent. Preparations were kept so secret that revellers were made aware of the venue only hours before the rave. Although security guards were hired to act as lookouts and plans were made to clear the site of alcohol and drugs the police found 150 bottles of alcohol and drugs, including marijuana. Most of the detainees came from rich families and included people from Iranian backgrounds who had travelled from Britain and Sweden, Mr Zarei said. "This is the first time that tens of male and female participants have been invited to such an event through an internet call," he told the semi-official ISNA news agency. Rock concerts are rarely permitted in Iran but are sometimes held illegally in venues such as underground car parks. Last Wednesday's raid occurred during a government-backed "social security" campaign in which police have arrested or cautioned thousands of women whose dress or headscarves have been deemed insufficiently Islamic. While such offensives occur periodically, this year's has been carried out with unusual intensity over a prolonged period amid accusations that the US is trying to topple the Islamic regime through a "soft revolution". Authorities last month doubled the number of officers deployed on morals patrols. Police have been instructed to arrest young men with "western" hairstyles. Those arrested are released only after giving the names of their barbers and making signed commitments to get hair-cuts. They then have to return to the police station to show their new hairstyles.

Tehran killers hanged in public

Two men have been hanged in a Tehran square for the murder of a prominent judge, thought to be the first public execution in Iran's capital since 2002.

Majid and Hossein Kavousifar's deaths come a day after nine public hangings in other parts the country.

The government says it is part of a major effort to tackle violent crime and the illegal drug trade in Iran.

Human rights groups have criticised Iran for the high number of executions it carries out, second only to China.

The uncle and nephew were convicted of the murder of Judge Hassan Moghaddas in central Tehran two years ago.

Their execution was held at the same location as the murder, and on the same date, in front of a large picture of the murdered judge.

People like him should know that their actions cannot and will not dissuade our judges from carrying out their dee
Chief prosecutor Saeed Mortazavi
When Hossein Kavousifar looked distressed as he awaited his execution, his uncle gestured to him and smiled in an attempt to reassure him.

When the time came, hangmen with their heads covered, put the nooses around their necks kicked away the stools on which the two men stood.

A crowd of several hundred watched. Some shouted "God is great", some took pictures with their mobile phones. A few laughed.

The mother of one of the condemned men cried out: "God, please give me back my son."

'No remorse'

Executions doubled in Iran in 2006 to 177, and seven months into 2007, Amnesty International says 151 people have been executed, with the number increasing.

The assassinated judge was known for adjudicating in political cases and cases where Iran's Islamic revolutionary system had been criticised.

In 2001, he was the sitting judge in the case of Akbar Ganji - a prominent dissident whom he condemned to six years in prison.

Tehran's chief prosecutor Saeed Mortazavi told reporters that the Majid Kavousifar had expressed no remorse, after killing a judge he had deemed "corrupt".

"People like him should know that their actions cannot and will not dissuade our judges from carrying out their deeds," he said.

On Wednesday seven convicted criminals were hanged for rape, kidnapping and armed robbery in Iran's Second City, Mashhad, with the other two convicts executed in south-east Iran.

A few days earlier 12 people were hanged in Tehran's Evin prison.

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