The Contractor’s Conference Room: Laughing Off a Sonic Boom, Frustrated with Iraqis in Construction Boom

Text Box: BAGHDAD, July 1 — I’m so relaxed in a friendly, professional morning briefing with staff from private contractor the Washington Co. and 10 of its Iraqi employees. Then the mortar explodes. It feels closer this time, maybe within a quarter mi. or so. The boom shatters the conference’s relaxed mood, but only two of us—a hulking man with a blonde crew cut and me—jump out of our seats. We are truly ready to flee. There’s some good-natured joking and some slightly more serious chatter about heading for shelter, but the comfort is gone now, and it takes a second to reappear. (Later, we find out that the BlackHawk compound took the hit.) The meeting turns to outstanding work orders, with one of the contractor’s leaders pressing for answers from the employees. In a room full of people from diverse Iraqi sects—Sunnis, Shia, Kurds, Christians; well-educated electrical, civil, mechanical and chemical engineers; all fluent in English—it’s clear that there’s a significant difference in expectations between the West and the Middle East. “We call this the 80 percent world,” says Dennis Graham, engineering tech for the Army Corps of Engineers. Construction gets to a certain point, he says, that “they [Iraqi employees] think it’s finished. Building technology stopped here 40 years ago.” When Saddam Hussein came into power, Graham insists, he limited his people’s learning progress. The Army Corps of Engineers manages the contract for the 28th Combat Support Hospital, and the Washington Co. contractors, in turn work for the Corps. All the partners here seem to enjoy their professional and social relationships, but it comes at a high price for the Iraqis: More than 20 of the contractor’s employees have been kidnapped, raped or killed in the four years since the Washington Co. has been here. And it’s gotten worse over the past two years. “You know that people are persecuted for working with Americans,” Graham says. “Our contractors working in the Red Zone won’t wear helmets or safety gear so that they won’t be identified with us.” After boardroom business concludes, there’s an honest, painful discussion about Iraq’s future. The men seem resigned, sad—some hopeful, others not. —Leslie Sabbagh