Protesters in Baghdad hold a sit-in demanding that US troops leave Iraq. Counter-terrorism troops patrol streets. A federal court ponders whether to certify results of parliamentary elections two months ago.
But at the Baghdad International Fair grounds, almost no one cares about all that.
Inside is the Baghdad International Book Fair. It’s not even the bigger book fair of the same name that the Iraqi government has sponsored for decades. But it’s a book fair nonetheless.
There, patrons savour the chance to browse aisles of paperbacks and hardcovers stacked on tables in pavilions from different countries. To pose for selfies in front of the fake volumes glued together and arranged to spell the word “book”. To revel in what to many Iraqis is the true, enduring character of Baghdad, far removed from political turmoil and security concerns.
“There is a big gap between the people in the street and the political elite,” said Maysoon al-Demluji, a former deputy minister of culture who was visiting the fair. “People in the street are not that interested in what happens in politics.”
At the fairgrounds in the fashionable Mansour district of the city, the pavilions have offerings from printing houses across the Arab world and beyond. An Iranian publisher features luxurious coffee table books of the country’s cultural wonders.
At the stall of a Kuwaiti publishing house, Zainab al-Joori, a psychiatrist, paid for books about ancient Mesopotamia and a novel by Robert Louis Stevenson translated into Arabic. Most of the books at the stall were paperbacks.
“Reading is my therapy,” said Dr Joori, 30, who works at a psychiatric hospital.
Paperbacks are a distant second to the feel and the scent of the old books that Dr Joori loves best. But still, she looks forward to the book fair for months. “Just visiting this place is satisfying even if I don’t buy any books,” she said.
Iraqis love books. “Cairo writes, Beirut publishes and Baghdad reads,” goes an old saying.
In the 1990s, my first reporting assignments to Baghdad were to a closed country. It was Saddam Hussein’s Iraq — difficult to get into and, once you were there, difficult and dangerous to explore.
The US had just driven Saddam’s forces from Kuwait and the United Nations had imposed sweeping trade sanctions on Iraq. In a formerly rich country, the shock of sudden poverty gave the city and its inhabitants a harder edge.
But in those rare glimpses behind the closed doors of people’s homes, there were often books — in some houses, beautiful, built-in wooden shelves of them, all of them read and almost every book treated by its owner as an old friend.
Iraqis are proud of their ancient legacy as heirs to the world’s first known civilisations. The earliest known form of writing, cuneiform symbols inscribed in clay, emerged in southern Iraq more than 5,000 years ago.
In the ninth century AD in Baghdad — at the time the biggest city in the world — translators at the Bayt al Hikma, or House of Knowledge, a huge library and intellectual centre, were tasked with translating all important works in existence into Arabic.
Twelve centuries later, on al-Mutanabi Street, the love of books and ideas lives on in the Friday market where sellers lay out used books for sale on the sidewalk in a tradition that is the beating heart of Baghdad’s traditional cultural life.
The New York Times News Service
