Brendan interjected, asking if Barbara knew Xena and Heather had been declawed. How were they going to survive in the bush if they could not hunt? A lioness was a pride's key provider and needed razor claws to grab and pull down her prey; otherwise she and her dependents would starve.
Barbara replied that the cubs would grow up and hunt for their parents.
The meeting went silent. Anyone with any understanding of the African bush knows there is no such thing as a free lunch. If you can't feed yourself or chase others off a kill, you die. To release lionesses with no claws into the wilderness meant a cruel death sentence. Death by starvation: simple as that.
The South African authorities were also unlikely to grant permits for imported, declawed lionesses to be kept in domesticated enclosures, particularly after recent “canned lion” hunting scandals, in which retired circus animals were shot by despicable trophy hunters, had caused a huge outcry.
Then there was the question of Uday's lions having tasted human flesh. The rumors that Saddam's son had fed his opponents to the animals were simply too prevalent to ignore. Even if there was no tangible proof, could we still take the risk? If someone was killed and eaten, how could we as a committee ever justify our decision to relocate a pride of suspected man-eaters?
Although Barbara said the lions would have no human contact, in Africa rural people do not necessarily respect fences. Declawed lions would probably have no alternative but to go for easy preyâlike humans.
While the desire to give Uday's lions their freedom was undeniably noble, the reality was somewhat different. It was plainly impossible, not to mention inhumane, to successfully release the pride
as a unit. The animals would instead have to be kept in an enclosure and fed for the rest of their lives, no different from what we were currently doing.
Barbara went on the offensive, saying it was too late to backtrack. Everything was now arranged and SanWild was ready to take the animals. She added that she had gone to a lot of trouble to find them decent homes, far better than they would have in Iraq.
Finally, she pointed out what we already knew: that there were too many lions in the zoo and if some were not relocated, how would the others survive?
We then moved on to the bear. Barbara “confirmed” the old blind bear, Saedia, was going to a bear sanctuary in Greece where she would have her cataracts surgically removed and her sight restored. She would live out her remaining days in freedom.
Even Jason Thrupp, the IFAW vet who usually had little love for zoos, was particularly reluctant to relocate Saedia into the wild. For a start, she was thirty years old and had lived in captivity for almost her entire life. An average brown bear's life span is thirty-five years, which meant she was nearing her end days. There were other younger bears in cages, such as Wounded Ass, who was only three. Shouldn't the thousands of dollars be spent on something a little more ⦠well, long-term?
Those with little knowledge of the natural world think of a bear retiring as a human would: in well-deserved comfort after a lifetime of toil. In reality, Saedia was so old and so traumatized from the war she probably wouldn't survive the sedation or journey. She also would possibly be frightened out of her wits if she was set free at her advanced age. Her security blanket, heartbreaking as it was to admit, was the zoo and her handlers. Freedom was just a word.
I held up both hands. “We're forgetting something very important here. Dr. Adel opposes the relocation, and if the Iraqi authorities don't buy into this, it is not going ahead. These are, after all, their animals.”
I turned to Adel. “Please explain your position.”
Using Farah as his interpreter, Adel said he was vehemently
against any of the animals being removed. They belonged to the Iraqi people and could not leave without Iraqi permission.
Barbara interrupted, pointing out that Adel had initially agreed to the relocation and on the strength of that she had incurred costs and invested a lot of her own and other people's time and money in the project. And now, at the last minute, he was changing his mind.
Adel conceded Barbara had raised the matter some while back, but as far as he was concerned that had simply been talk and nothing had been finalized. Then suddenly through the press he discovered the animals were being taken from his country.
Barbara shook her head, exasperation creeping into her voice. She repeated that in her view the committee had agreed to the idea. She had gone forward on that basis.
Adel turned in his chair and faced Barbara directly. He spoke quickly and angrily in Arabic, and Farah had to translate at speed.
“Do you remember when you were last here and I said these are very bad times for us Iraqis? I said we had to be careful and any talk of moving animals was too soon, as people would start asking me questions I did not want to answer. Everybody then promised to keep all of this private, to protect us Iraqis while we talked. But you continued on your own and also went to the newspapers. Because of that you have put all of us Iraqis who work with foreigners at the zoo in a very dangerous position. Now gunmen know we work with foreigners. Now we are not safe. Our families are not safe.”
I tensed. We were getting to the crux of the issue.
“I did not do any press release,” Barbara replied. “It was done by SanWild. I knew nothing about it.”
“Nevertheless, the damage has been done,” said Adel.
Barbara turned to me. The Americans, she said, were the controlling authority and they certainly had no objection to relocating the animals, no matter what the Zoo Committee said or did.
I looked at Sumner. “We need to get hold of Ted Morse immediately and find out the coalition's standpoint.”
Within a few minutes, Morse, the acting mayor of Baghdad, was on the line.
“I thought the animals had already gone,” he said. “What's the delay?”
That was news to everyone.
Adel's face went black as a thundercloud. He muttered, “This is not an American decision,” and stormed out of the room, beckoning me to follow.
“You understand some of our people are already saying I have sold the lions for my own pocket,” he said once we were outside, his brow creased with worry. “They say the animals are going to South Africaâyour home and Brendan's home. They say I am taking money to let the lions go. This is very bad for me.”
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IT WAS NOW BECOMING CLEARER. This dispute wasn't solely about animals, and to grasp the underlying currents one had to delve into the mind of an Iraqi. Not just any Iraqi, but an Iraqi living in Baghdad, a war-torn, rumor-filled city that had long been traumatized by paranoia and fear beyond comprehension by the Western mind.
One has to remember that for three decades Baghdad had been under the tyrannical heel of Saddam's Gestapo-style secret police, the Mukhabarat. Their influence spread everywhere. Informers lived on every street, and their word could be a death sentence.
Nobody escaped this iron fist of terror; they experienced it either directly or through the treatment of their family and friends. No one was unaffected. It was that sinister, that pervasive. Although ousting Saddam Hussein was a powerful relief, the corrosive psychological aftermath of his brutality was too entrenched to be lifted instantly.
As Iraqis regularly pointed out, during the 1991 Desert Storm invasion Saddam had been resoundingly defeated but somehow still held on to power. Thus the people of Baghdad understandably were taking no chances this time around. They were living in a
dreadful limbo, not sure whether the Americans had removed Saddam for good or the murderous Mukhabarat was still flourishing underground, watching and waiting.
The rules of survival were simple: keep your head down, your mouth shut, and don't openly cooperate with the coalition forces. Above all, don't attract unwanted attention, especially press attention. You never know what deadly menace will come for you out of the shadows.
Adel was in an extremely tenuous position, as he was openly working with foreigners, even though it was generally known we were neutral South Africans. He also was a Shia Muslim, whereas the Ba'athist underground insurgents were predominantly Sunni, two groups that have often been at odds with each other.
He was genuinely terrified when hordes of Iraqi press and TV reporters arrived banging on the zoo's doors and demanding to know if it was true Uday's lions were going. And if so, under whose authority was this happening: American or Iraqi?
These were loaded questions. They put not only Adel but his entire family at risk. If he conceded that relocating Uday's lions was under consideration, it unequivocally meant he was working with the coalition. To admit collaboration in those hostile times was life threatening.
But if he said no, they would ask why one of his own committee members, Barbara Maas, was contradicting him.
So he grasped the only lifeline he could. He flatly denied knowing anything. As far as he was concerned, no lions were going anywhere.
The fact that the lions had once belonged to the Hussein family had massive iconic implications as well. The issue had gone far beyond moving a handful of animals; it was now about human lives.
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THAT NIGHT we gathered at IFAW logistics controller Mariette Hopley's room in the hotel and sent someone down for ice-cold (we never lost our optimism) drinks and a pile of chicken and French fries.
Mariette's room was a magnet for any gathering, as it was the tidiest and she was a fine hostess. But even she was downcast that evening. The Barbara Maas__Dr. Adel feud put a pall on everything.
Until now, the team had worked together under often-difficult circumstances with one final goal; to get the zoo operational. There had been no time for sideshows.
On the one hand, what worried Mariette was that rescuing zoos was not something IFAW usually did, and she was concerned about potential adverse publicity. IFAW focused on freeing or caring for animals in their natural habitat, and this was one of the few times they had been involved in zoo rehabilitation. Mariette feared that a messy public spat over freeing animals, which IFAW stood for, would jeopardize their standing in the conservation world.
Sumner, on the other hand, succinctly summed up the dilemma from our perspective: If we estranged the Iraqis we might as well shut down the entire project. The zoo was soon to come under the authority of a new Iraqi-controlled Baghdad City Council. If we did backdoor deals before that, the damage would be irreversible. The real losers would be the animals.
I then gave the others the background on Adel's situation. He and his staff had been at pains to make it known on the street that the foreigners they were working with were neutral South Africans.
And where were the lions going?
South Africa.
This had potentially devastating consequences and unless handled carefully would raise intractable suspicions about our involvement. It could destroy our credibility with the Iraqi staff or, worse, the staff's credibility with the community at large.
There was no doubt Adel was in potentially serious danger. As he had mentioned at the meeting, not only had he been exposed through the press as someone working closely with foreigners, but he also had been erroneously fingered as being behind the removal of the Hussein family's lions. And perhaps even profiting from it.
If Saddam's underground supporters wanted a symbolic public execution, Adel was a prime candidate. We urgently had to promote
Adel's side of the story. Somehow we had to get the word out that he was implacably opposed to the relocation and not some foreigners' stooge.
There was no time to waste. Sumner and I composed a statement from the Baghdad Zoo Committee declaring we were totally against any animals being moved without Iraqi consent. This was released to the press.
We also instructed the media that in the future all press inquiries must be referred exclusively to Dr. Adel, which would clearly prove that the Iraqis, not foreigners, were in control.
Or so we hoped.
In the middle of this internecine strife Stephan Bognar arrived back. I had spoken to him earlier in San Francisco and suggested that as he and Barbara were in touch about the lions, his presence at the zoo might help smooth things over.
“Get me an official letter, signed by you as administrator of the zoo, requesting my return, and I will do what I can,” he said.
Brendan and I brought him up to speed and I told him about my recent visit to Baghdad's soon-to-be-installed deputy mayor, Dr. Faris Abdul Razaq al-Assam, with Dr. Adel to discuss the relocation issue.
Faris was adamant; the lions must stay. “We have a suitable location and when the city settles down we want to build a drive-in lion park like they have in other countries. It will be a great attraction.”
“Dr. al-Assam,” I said in a last attempt to change his mind, “lions are not indigenous to Iraq; it's much too hot for them here. Let's rather stock the zoo with indigenous Iraqi animals and at least let the lions with claws go. We can do a joint program with you.”