Dying for a Drink
Islamic militants seemingly determined to stamp out sale and consumption of alcohol in the capital.
Dying for a Drink
Islamic militants seemingly determined to stamp out sale and consumption of alcohol in the capital.
Liquor store owner Nabil Yousif says it’s increasingly difficult to find drivers willing to supply him, such is their fear of being targeted by Islamic militants. When supplies do come in, they’re invariably concealed, often hidden under boxes of Coca-Cola.
Yousif, a Christian, has been selling alcohol for many years but says the only reason he hasn’t closed down is the location of his shop, close to the heavily fortified Green Zone where the Iraqi government, the American and British embassies and many international organisations reside behind high concrete walls.
Others, however, are not so fortunate. Though in the Kurdish north of Iraq, beer, wine and other drinks are still widely available in shops and restaurants, large numbers of liquor stores in the capital and in the western and southern provinces have closed after their owners were threatened or killed by extremists.
Most are owned and run by Christians, as Muslims cannot usually get a liquor license from the government.
Though no reliable data exists on how many stores have been shut because of the intimidation, most shops selling alcohol in the western Baghdad neighbourhoods of Jamiaa, Aadhamiy and Amiriya have closed down.
Liquor stores now are mainly based in the Shia Karrada district and in Saadoon Street in eastern Baghdad. But there are many problems there.
Eight months ago, 29-year-old Sirood Ahmed was about to open his store in Karrada when he discovered bullet holes in the door and a threatening letter. Ahmed didn't take the warning seriously at first, but a few days later four gunmen showed up and ordered him to close, or else they would kill him. This time he took the threat seriously.
"I am lucky to be alive, because many others were killed in several Baghdad neighborhoods. If it was not crowded at that time, they would have killed me," he said.
The Jadiriya bridge that spans the Tigris river between Karrada and Jadiriya was once a place for young people to hang out in the afternoon and have a drink.
Walid Muhsin, 30, who deals in spare parts for cars, used to buy alcohol and ice from a shop there, go to the bridge with a friend to drink, then later head for Karrada to eat. "Today that shop is closed, and Jadiriya is deserted. Anyone who tries to drink there will be killed," he said.
The attacks and threats are a relatively recent phenomenon.
Six months ago, Karrada, the previously predominant Christian neighbourhood Arasat and the upscale Mansoor district featured plenty of stores where people could choose between beer, Lebanese or French wine, Scotch and Iraqi-made Arak
Today only shops like Yousif’s close to the heavily fortified Green Zone and in areas near the bases of multinational forces remain open.
Hasanen Murad, 60, witnessed an attack on a store near his house in Mansoor. An explosion shook the windows in his apartment, and when he went out he saw that the store had been badly damaged, though there were no casualties.
A month later, however, the militants returned to the shop, which had not closed after the bombing incident. They set it on fire and murdered the owner and four customers, their bodies found lying on the ground surrounded by bottles of whisky and Arak.
"Ever since no liquor store has been opened in the area," said Murad.
In the Seventies and Eighties, Baghdad was famous for its nightlife, especially the bars in Abu Nawas Street on the east bank of the Tigris where Arak was served in big glasses and men drank, sang and chatted late into the night.
In the Nineties, Saddam launched something of a temperance campaign to gain support from the Muslim clerics. Many nightclubs were shut down and drinking was banned in a number of neighbourhoods. Alcohol was still available, but anyone caught drunk on the street was detained for a month.
Selling alcohol is legal today but Saif Noori, an Iraqi police captain, said local security forces are helpless to prevent the attacks on liquor stores. "We can't stop [the militias] without help of American troops," he said.
Muslims are not supposed to drink, though many do, and recent events have hit drinkers hard.
In Baghdad, prices for beer and whisky have risen 50 per cent or more. "Prices shot up and there is no place where we can drink,” said Dhiya al-Amiri, a 33-year-old technician, who says militants from the Mahdi Army attacked him in Abu Nawas Street, while he was having a drink.
“Sometimes my friend and I drink in the car, while roaming around Baghdad. I can’t drink at home because my family is too conservative. What sort of a life is this?" he sighed.
Though it may cost them their lives, the unbearable situation in the capital makes it hard for people to stop drinking. At the few liquor stores still open, people wait in long queues in the afternoon.
Salam Muhsin, a 30-year-old civil servant, said that Iraqis are used to queuing for food and oil products but not for a drink. "I am afraid one day a suicide bomber might blow himself up in the queue,” he said.
Muhsin, whose friend was killed by militants because he had alcohol in his house, accuses members of the Mahdi Army of hypocrisy, saying some have been spotted in liquor stores.
"They are alcohol and drug addicts but say it's a taboo for us to drink," he said angrily. He mixes cola with alcohol so that no one can tell he’s drinking. "If someone saw what I was doing, I end up dead on the roadside.”
Hussein al-Yasiri is an IWPR contributor in Baghdad.
Yousif, a Christian, has been selling alcohol for many years but says the only reason he hasn’t closed down is the location of his shop, close to the heavily fortified Green Zone where the Iraqi government, the American and British embassies and many international organisations reside behind high concrete walls.
Others, however, are not so fortunate. Though in the Kurdish north of Iraq, beer, wine and other drinks are still widely available in shops and restaurants, large numbers of liquor stores in the capital and in the western and southern provinces have closed after their owners were threatened or killed by extremists.
Most are owned and run by Christians, as Muslims cannot usually get a liquor license from the government.
Though no reliable data exists on how many stores have been shut because of the intimidation, most shops selling alcohol in the western Baghdad neighbourhoods of Jamiaa, Aadhamiy and Amiriya have closed down.
Liquor stores now are mainly based in the Shia Karrada district and in Saadoon Street in eastern Baghdad. But there are many problems there.
Eight months ago, 29-year-old Sirood Ahmed was about to open his store in Karrada when he discovered bullet holes in the door and a threatening letter. Ahmed didn't take the warning seriously at first, but a few days later four gunmen showed up and ordered him to close, or else they would kill him. This time he took the threat seriously.
"I am lucky to be alive, because many others were killed in several Baghdad neighborhoods. If it was not crowded at that time, they would have killed me," he said.
The Jadiriya bridge that spans the Tigris river between Karrada and Jadiriya was once a place for young people to hang out in the afternoon and have a drink.
Walid Muhsin, 30, who deals in spare parts for cars, used to buy alcohol and ice from a shop there, go to the bridge with a friend to drink, then later head for Karrada to eat. "Today that shop is closed, and Jadiriya is deserted. Anyone who tries to drink there will be killed," he said.
The attacks and threats are a relatively recent phenomenon.
Six months ago, Karrada, the previously predominant Christian neighbourhood Arasat and the upscale Mansoor district featured plenty of stores where people could choose between beer, Lebanese or French wine, Scotch and Iraqi-made Arak
Today only shops like Yousif’s close to the heavily fortified Green Zone and in areas near the bases of multinational forces remain open.
Hasanen Murad, 60, witnessed an attack on a store near his house in Mansoor. An explosion shook the windows in his apartment, and when he went out he saw that the store had been badly damaged, though there were no casualties.
A month later, however, the militants returned to the shop, which had not closed after the bombing incident. They set it on fire and murdered the owner and four customers, their bodies found lying on the ground surrounded by bottles of whisky and Arak.
"Ever since no liquor store has been opened in the area," said Murad.
In the Seventies and Eighties, Baghdad was famous for its nightlife, especially the bars in Abu Nawas Street on the east bank of the Tigris where Arak was served in big glasses and men drank, sang and chatted late into the night.
In the Nineties, Saddam launched something of a temperance campaign to gain support from the Muslim clerics. Many nightclubs were shut down and drinking was banned in a number of neighbourhoods. Alcohol was still available, but anyone caught drunk on the street was detained for a month.
Selling alcohol is legal today but Saif Noori, an Iraqi police captain, said local security forces are helpless to prevent the attacks on liquor stores. "We can't stop [the militias] without help of American troops," he said.
Muslims are not supposed to drink, though many do, and recent events have hit drinkers hard.
In Baghdad, prices for beer and whisky have risen 50 per cent or more. "Prices shot up and there is no place where we can drink,” said Dhiya al-Amiri, a 33-year-old technician, who says militants from the Mahdi Army attacked him in Abu Nawas Street, while he was having a drink.
“Sometimes my friend and I drink in the car, while roaming around Baghdad. I can’t drink at home because my family is too conservative. What sort of a life is this?" he sighed.
Though it may cost them their lives, the unbearable situation in the capital makes it hard for people to stop drinking. At the few liquor stores still open, people wait in long queues in the afternoon.
Salam Muhsin, a 30-year-old civil servant, said that Iraqis are used to queuing for food and oil products but not for a drink. "I am afraid one day a suicide bomber might blow himself up in the queue,” he said.
Muhsin, whose friend was killed by militants because he had alcohol in his house, accuses members of the Mahdi Army of hypocrisy, saying some have been spotted in liquor stores.
"They are alcohol and drug addicts but say it's a taboo for us to drink," he said angrily. He mixes cola with alcohol so that no one can tell he’s drinking. "If someone saw what I was doing, I end up dead on the roadside.”
Hussein al-Yasiri is an IWPR contributor in Baghdad.
