(04-09) 04:00 PDT Baghdad --
The last vestiges of Saddam Hussein's regime began to evaporate
Tuesday as his fighters all but disappeared from large sections of Baghdad and
his propaganda machine seemed to collapse.
After a spectacular foray in the early morning, with U.S. and Iraqi troops
trading bursts of fire, the Americans captured a huge swath of western Baghdad,
and the thousands of Iraqi soldiers on the densely populated eastern bank of
the Tigris River seemed to sense that the end was near. By dusk they had
disappeared, and only a few lightly armed militiamen guarded key intersections.
Increasing numbers of young and middle-aged men in military haircuts could
be seen lounging around in casual civilian clothes -- as if they had just
stashed their uniforms in a closet somewhere.
The Ministry of Information, which has acted as Hussein's mouthpiece, also
seemed to vanish. State television, with its stock footage of Hussein
reviewing troops and waving to crowds, was knocked off the air after U.S.
troops based at a presidential palace attacked the ministry and broadcast
center. And after a brief, chaotic midmorning appearance at the Palestine
Hotel, which was rocked by a tank round that killed two of the scores of
international journalists holed up there, Information Minister Mohammed Saeed
al-Sahhaf and his top aides were nowhere to be seen.
By the end of the day, the mood shift was dramatic. The streets emptied of
vehicle traffic, as if people feared that they might stumble on a column of U.
S. tanks as they crossed the street.
WAITING FOR THE AMERICANS
The few people still on the streets of Baghdad worried out loud about when
the Americans would roll across the bridges spanning the Tigris River and take
control of downtown -- would it be as soon as today?
Even far down in the regime's hierarchy, Baath Party loyalists suddenly
sensed that their own private D-Day might be coming soon. In late afternoon,
most of the Information Ministry's "minders" -- the combination political
chaperone, translator, facilitator and bodyguard that the government has
deployed to try to control the foreign press -- suddenly asked the journalists
to pay their $75-a-day accumulated fees to date.
"Tomorrow, things may be completely different," said one minder, who asked
to remain anonymous, just in case his bosses stuck around for a few more days.
"We may not have jobs. What is our future? We have no idea."
The man noted that the higher-ups had already cashed in their chips. Late
last week, the ministry's press office required journalists to pay off their
accreditation fees for working in Iraq -- up to $300 per person per day,
payable only in U.S. dollars cash. The haul from approximately 250 foreign
journalists in Baghdad was estimated at $1 million.
However, despite these signs of collapse, it was far from clear Tuesday
whether the regime would simply vanish and allow U.S. forces to assume control
peacefully or whether Hussein's security forces might lash out in violent
death throes. If the last remnants of the regime go down fighting, there could
still be significant bloodshed.
DIE-HARD RESISTANCE
The wild card is the Baath Party militias -- especially the Fedayeen Saddam,
the hard-line group in civilian clothes that has put up a fierce resistance
to American and British troops in cities throughout southern Iraq. Some of the
Fedayeen Saddam were still on the streets throughout the day, and late in the
afternoon, about 100 staged a demonstration in front of the Palestine Hotel,
chanting, "We will sacrifice our life for you, Saddam."
Many Baghdad residents were wide-eyed Tuesday, wondering at the new sense
of freedom in the air. But out of long-honed instinct, they still hedged their
bets while angling for a secure place in the new Iraq.
"Yes, things are changing," said Osama Yessin, a fruit vendor in the
Kerradeh neighborhood in the eastern part of the city. "A lot of people may be
leaving," he said, waving his hand upward in a typical Iraqi gesture referring
to Hussein's elite. "This is good. The Americans are welcome."
But then something seemed to click inside Yessin, triggering old survival
instincts and old habits. "But we will fight the Americans, and they will all
die," he said, stroking his ample stomach.
This article appeared on page A - 1 of the San Francisco Chronicle
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