Journalists journey into the center of the storm

By Scott Baldauf

NAJAF, Iraq - What we were about to do was more than risky. It was foolish.

Thursday, several journalists began organizing a delegation to enter the Imam Ali shrine in Najaf, where members of Muqtada al-Sadr’s Shiite Muslim militia were taking shelter. We wanted to get what may be the final comments of the top militia leadership inside the holy site. We also wanted to help two colleagues get out of the shrine after they had spent three days there. Between us and the shrine were two U.S. military checkpoints, snipers and hundreds of fighters from al-Sadr’s militia, the Mahdi Army.

Briefly Wednesday, it appeared that a peaceful resolution to the standoff might be achieved. But hours later, fighting erupted again. And the Iraqi government said there would be no more negotiations.

We alerted the Iraqi government, the U.S. military, and the Mahdi Army that we were planning to go to the shrine and asked them not to fire on us.

"That shrine might not be around much longer," warned a U.S. Army major named Robertson.

A half-hour after our decided time of departure, our driver, Adnan, revved up his car. We had formed a convoy of about 18 cars full of journalists, most of them Arab, a few of them British and some Americans. Our car took the lead. We displayed a white rag as we crawled along at about 5 mph.

As we set out, the streets were empty, the buildings and shops pocked with shell holes. The ground was covered with shattered glass and shrapnel.

Five minutes later, we reached the first U.S. Army checkpoint. We were cleared to pass. On the horizon, we could see the gold dome of the shrine. We moved past the second U.S. checkpoint.

As we approached the first Mahdi Army checkpoint, I glanced at my watch: 3 p.m. A militiaman approached our car and asked who we were.

Any conversation was cut off by a sudden mortar blast 50 feet away. We abandoned our cars. We assumed this was a warning shot from the Mahdi Army, but the fighter insisted it was from the Americans. He welcomed us and directed us to the shrine.

Ahead of us, the streets were full of hundreds of Mahdi Army fighters, their rifles and rocket-propelled-grenade launchers held aloft as they stamped their feet and chanted their devotion to al-Sadr.

Inside the shrine, we saw no weapons but hundreds of al-Sadr’s supporters. The sounds of mortar and artillery fire outside told us that, even with journalists inside the shrine, the battle would continue. We found ourselves surrounded by al-Sadr supporters seeking to convey their message. One chastised our interpreter, Alah, for failing to hide her hair under her scarf.

We made our way to the shrine’s combat hospital. The people there begged us to take away a man with severe head wounds who appeared to be dying. We promised to send an ambulance.

By 4:25 p.m., we were getting antsy. The CNN reporter among us was in the middle of a live feed. At 4:30 p.m., we left, the CNN reporter bringing up the rear. Fighters and al-Sadr supporters shook our hands. One man, however, stopped me. "You newspapers no good," he said. "Yesterday we bombed eight Humvees and killed 11 soldiers, but there was nothing announced on TV."

Five minutes later, we were back at the cars. To our right, black smoke billowed out of a marketplace. The thunder of shells reminded us that our window of escape was closing. We drove back. Our colleagues were free after days in the shrine. Moments after we returned to the hotel, Prime Minister Ayad Allawi issued a "final call" for al-Sadr to disarm and leave the shrine. At sundown, the fight for the shrine was raging.

http://www.usatoday.com/news/world/iraq/2004-08-19-journalists-najaf_x.htm