The Iraqi boy cast as the human face of war

Baghdad - With Saddam Hussein's whereabouts still a mystery, western media coverage of the war focused instead on the fortunes of three Iraqis named Ali.

First there was Ali Hassan al-Majid - dubbed "Chemical Ali" for his part in gassing 5,000 Kurds at Halabja in 1988 - whose death at the beginning of April elicited obituaries in three British broadsheets. Then there was Mohammed Saeed al-Sahhaf - the Iraqi information minister who came to be known as "Comical Ali" for his bullish commentaries on the progress of the war - who is believed to have hanged himself. The most famous Ali of the conflict, however, is not a killer or a figure of fun, but a 12-year-old civilian.

The plight of Ali Ismail Abbas, who lost 15 relatives and both his arms when an US missile hit his home in the suburbs of Baghdad three weeks ago, has become the human-interest story of the war. Two days after foreign journalists found him in a Baghdad hospital bed, the young Iraqi was hailed worldwide as a living example of "collateral damage".

"The despairing face of Ali has become a symbol around the world of the casualties of the Iraq war," wrote Bronwen Maddox in the Times ."The picture that will stay with us... the image that refuses to leave the retina no matter how many times you blink, is of 12-year-old Ali," agreed Allison Pearson in the London Evening Standard, which, along with many papers, launched an appeal to help young victims of the war.

Reporters and photographers did not spare readers and viewers the horrific extent of Ali's injuries. "The child's legs were smooth, but his entire torso was black, and his arms were horribly burnt," said Jon Lee Anderson, a correspondent for the New Yorker. "At about the biceps, the flesh of both arms became charred, black grotesqueries. One of his hands was a twisted, melted claw. His other arm had apparently been burned off at the elbow, and two long bones were sticking out of it. It looked like something that might be found in a barbecue pit."

However, it was not just Ali's physical suffering that fascinated and appalled - it was his ability to articulate what he had experienced. "I wanted to be an army officer when I grow up but not any more," he told journalists. "Now I want to be a doctor - but how can I?"

"If I had hands, I would shake your hand," Ali said on meeting the Independent's Kim Sengupta. "They cut them off after the bomb. I want my hands."

On Tuesday, Ali was airlifted to a hospital in Kuwait where he underwent surgery to remove infected tissue from his burns and to receive skin grafts, and Friday's Daily Mirror brought news that the operation had been a success and that he had been feeling well enough to order a "spicy shish kebab".

However, despite Ali's progress and the hundreds of thousands of pounds raised to help him and others like him, some were uneasy about the media's selective focus on suffering. Ali, said David Blair in the Daily Telegraph, was one of the lucky few who had made it out of Baghdad, where "staff shortages, looting on an immense scale and power blackouts have forced the total or partial closure of three of the main hospitals".

Joan Walsh, news editor of the online magazine Salon, was more concerned about the behaviour of her colleagues who, after weeks of ignoring the civilian cost of the war, were now circling the wounded like vultures. "CNN hit rock bottom on Wednesday morning, when anchor Kyra Phillips interviewed Ali's doctor in Kuwait," said Walsh. "Dr Imad al- Najada explained that, although Ali told reporters he was grateful for his treatment, he also hopes no other 'children in the war will suffer like what he suffered'. Phillips seemed shocked by Ali's apparent inability to understand we were only trying to help him. 'Doctor, does he understand why this war took place? Has he talked about Operation Iraqi Freedom and the meaning. Does he understand it?'" -- Guardian News

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