| Union
Tribune April 1, 2003 Relief, a sense of freedom emerge from rubble of war U.S., Kurdish forces break extremists' hold on village By MARCUS STERN COPLEY NEWS SERVICE BIYARA, Iraq – The mosque of this Muslim village, nestled in a remote mountain pass, was destroyed during the holiest hour of the holiest day last week. In fact, U.S. bombs destroyed or damaged much of the streamside village last Friday. Four days later, the villagers were giving thanks. "It hurts to see my village destroyed like this," said Sarhang Osman, a 26-year-old shop owner whose two commercial stalls were destroyed. "We will have to rebuild. But I am free now, so it's not a problem." The strikes at midday Friday cleared the way for a massive ground assault by combined U.S. and Kurdish ground forces. The bombing and ground offensive routed Ansar al-Islam, a 700-strong group of "holy warriors" allegedly tied to the al-Qaeda terrorist network. For the past two years, the Islamic extremist group has been occupying a sliver of northern Iraq pressed against the border of Iran, attempting to impose a religious, social and economic way of life on the villages much like the Taliban regime had done in Afghanistan. Many of the Ansar fighters were killed, captured or fled by foot across the mountainous border into Iran. The guerrillas, who have turned to suicide bombs recently, were overwhelmed by 6,000 Kurdish fighters known as peshmergas fighting alongside about 100 U.S. special forces. The Ansar forces also had been softened up by several days of U.S. bombing. It was the first major battlefield victory for coalition forces in northern Iraq. Osman and others here were rejoicing even as they were sorting through the mounds of debris caused by at least eight U.S. bombs that crumpled parts of the mosque's 10-inch thick concrete structure like cardboard. The explosions shattered the building's mosaic tiles and left only a fragment of the chandelier hanging from the ceiling under the mosque's dome. A clock hung askew. It stopped at 1:21 p.m. But many of the villagers returned with mixed feelings. They were relieved to see Ansar gone, but disappointed that so much destruction was necessary in Biyara. Of the 33 villages liberated from Ansar control, only Biyara, Ansar's base, was heavily damaged. There also was uncertainty about whether the Ansar fighters would regroup and strike back. Many here insisted that large numbers of Ansar fighters fled safely into Iran. But many talked of hope for sustained peace here for the first time since 1979, the year Saddam Hussein seized the presidency in Iraq and the year of the revolution in Iran. Like other villagers, Osman had fled before the fighting began. He traveled with his wife and seven children by footpath deeper into the mountain pass to the safety of another village a little more than a mile away. The ground attack began in the morning. Shortly after 1 p.m. Friday afternoon, Osman heard eight loud explosions in Biyara and the glass shattered in the buildings where he was, more than a mile away. When he returned to Biyara the next morning he was struck by the devastation, including his own two shops that sell rice, tea, sugar and other foods. Near his stalls, empty burlap sacks hung from tree branches 70 feet off the ground. Much of the center of the village was a tangle of broken concrete and metal reinforcing bars. This is not the first time the village has faced rebuilding. After the 1991 Persian Gulf War and the Kurdish uprising associated with it, Hussein leveled this village along with many others in the rebellious Kurdish region. "We've been rebuilding for 12 years and now we will have to start over," Osman said. But, he added, he gladly would rebuild and face even greater hardship in order to get rid of Ansar. Ansar imposed a strict interpretation of the Koran and Islamic law on the villages. The soldiers forced women to keep every piece of skin covered. Men were forced to grow beards. TV and radio were forbidden. "You could not even smile," said Hoshmand, who goes by one name. Hoshmand, 26, said Ansar had jailed him for six months because of his political affiliation with the Patriotic Union of Kurdistan, or PUK, which has been battling Ansar for control of the territory. PUK controls the surrounding region. Hoshmand, echoing claims of others here, said he was mistreated in jail. He was blindfolded and strapped into a chair that delivered painful electric shocks, he said. And he was beaten; feces were put in his food, he added. "I screamed," he said. "And others screamed. One by one, morning until night, they would take us." The security building, which also had been hit by missiles, had a warren of small, dark cells in the basement that clearly had been in use up until shortly before the attack. Villagers said Ansar soldiers executed the prisoners before the coalition attack Friday. That allegation could not be confirmed. But relief was evident. "Now, I can smile again," said Hoshmand, whose hazel eyes seem to darken when he talked about his six months in prison but brighten when he talked about a future of peace and prosperity. In the days since the attack, villagers have been combing the wreckage for anything that might be salvageable, especially copies of the Koran. Among the literature left by Ansar militants were screeds against non-Muslims and calls for holy war. "There are dead bodies, martyrs and blood and you will have to know that all of the blood and martyrs will not be neglected by Allah," read a handwritten letter found in the debris. "But the rewards will come on the day of Judgment." Mortar shells lay under a staircase in the mosque. Kalashnikov ammunition magazines were scattered around the building. Broken glass, mangled door frames, chunks of plaster were everywhere. All that was left of one doll was its blond wig. A child's backpack lay nearby. A letter unsent. "I don't think they'll be back," Anwer Arif Mustafa said of Ansar al-Islam. "The reason they won't come back is the American soldiers." |