BAGHDAD — "Should I become an American?"
Every man and woman in our extended Iraqi family of interpreters, stringers, drivers, bodyguards, housekeepers and cook is asking that question.
BAGHDAD — "Should I become an American?"
Every man and woman in our extended Iraqi family of interpreters, stringers, drivers, bodyguards, housekeepers and cook is asking that question.
Most of them had thought, or dreamed, of it before. They've all been traumatized by their country's upheaval. Many have had a friend or relative killed. All live in fear of being identified by their neighbors as a sympathizer with the West. The gifts I bring for their children are carefully chosen not to carry a "Made in America" label.
Escaping to the United States was a useful daydream, something to keep the mind off reality.
Now, with a stroke of U.S. policy, it's become reality. The State Department has said it will extend refugee status to employees of Western news organizations, and, to make it easier for them to apply, it has opened an office in Baghdad.
When I heard this back in the States, I immediately thought of my last conversation with Qusay, a tall, muscular driver with two boys and a girl at home.
We were at the end of an enormous line outside the Green Zone, waiting for his car to be sniffed by a dog.
"I want to take my family out of this country," he told me. "Can you help me?"
The finality in his voice was poignant, considering the incredibly long odds against his plan.
At the time, his best shot was the lottery. Every year, the U.S. picks 50,000 from the multitude of applicants seeking immigrant status. The rules of the game are brutal. If chosen, you're sent a letter. Otherwise, silence. Because Iraqis don't trust the mail, I had offered the use of my U.S. address to Saif Rasheed, a pharmacist who works for The Times as an interpreter. Saif has put his name in the mix every year since his 2-year-old daughter was born. He's heard nothing.
I had wondered about the prospects for Qusay, a martial arts specialist with great self-assurance but a man who lacks marketable skills. Now, however, anyone on our staff has only to e-mail the application and go on with his life while the request is processed.
Under the new policy, it appears to be almost a sure thing. The State Department has a goal of admitting 12,000 Iraqi refugees this year, including those who worked for the news media, and last week said it would accept an additional 5,000 Iraqis who have worked for the U.S. government or military.
It was no surprise that Qusay and Saif had already applied by the time I returned in mid-June on my fifth one-month stint in The Times' Baghdad Bureau.