The American Film “Iraq for Sale” Is a Deliberate Insult to the Iraqi People

Among the many American documentary films about events in Iraq, we find that “Iraq for Sale” illuminates the war only incompletely, perhaps due to the fact that the film can be read in several different ways. “Iraq for Sale” is no different from the majority of American films like it: They are directed primarily at an American audience, despite the fact that they use Iraqi citizens as the axis of the film. In this way, these films intend to marginalize the Iraqi people. While some of them do touch on Iraqi suffering in one way or another — like the films "Iraq in Fragments," "The Ground Truth," "Three Kings" and "My Country, My Country" — “Iraq for Sale” instead seriously insults the Iraqi people.

The film, which is directed entirely at the American people, penetrates the frightening world of American security companies. In the end, the film shows the difficulties its production team faced, including death threats. There is no Iraqi presence in the film other than in the context of this insult. Thus, we haven’t found an Arabic translation and had to rely on the American release. This is in contrast to the films listed above, which have been translated. Most likely, the producer saw no need to translate it into Arabic, first because it is unfair to Iraq and uses Iraqis as mere props to reinforce its theme. Second, as we will see later, an Iraqi who manages to view the film may wish to produce a similar Iraqi film with the same courage in uncovering the administrative and financial corruption rampant in Iraq.

The film deals with the subject of American companies working in Iraq, in particular the security companies, which are generally supported by the U.S. military except with regard to the violations that occurred in Abu Ghraib prison. The film exposes these companies’ degenerate methods of dealing with the American citizens who work for them. Because this doesn’t concern us much, we will focus on the scenes that touch on Iraqi affairs — though we won’t investigate whose money was wasted to stuff the pockets of American security companies, as we saw in the picture advertising the film, referring to the rapid growth of their profits. However, the answer to whose money this was is made clear by the film’s title, “Iraq for Sale.” The mere recognition that Iraq is for sale means that there are two parties involved in the transaction. To determine who they are, we must look for a beneficiary and a victim: On the one hand, there are the occupying American forces on the ground in Iraq who provide suitable conditions for the activities of American companies. On the other hand, there are the Iraqi people, who appear in the film as though they are separate from the interests of their country. The film’s format gives the Iraqi viewer the impression that he is just a cheap commodity.

Determining who is selling Iraq requires examining directorial techniques and even camera angles. The film begins with black and white shots of the previous war the United States fought, followed by shots of American forces entering Iraq with no indication of the stated goals or the armed operations. Just the existence of these shots shows a lack of concern for Iraqi citizens, with the high camera angle on close-ups to give the viewer a sense of brute force dominance over all the “props” on the screen. These types of shots are dedicated to scenes in which only the Iraqi appears, and they are accompanied by an offensive soundtrack, as we will discuss later.

The film shows us the suffering of the families of dead American contractors, including the families of those killed in Fallujah. These scenes are accompanied by music — chords played on strings — that creates a sense of anxiety and grief. The scenes suggest that the aggressor is the American administration, represented by the security companies that work with it; the victim is the American contractor, whose government pushed into deserts, ignorant of the companies’ greed and of the suffering of Iraqi citizens.

Americans give their testimonies in shots empty of props, except for a dark barrier that signifies the ambiguity of the American security companies’ suspicious actions, while Iraqi witnesses appear in crowded shots that give a sense of suffocation and narrowness. In another scene, families of dead Americans go to church to express their sadness and need for spiritual space, in the midst of the rhythm of ringing bells and soft music, in corridors decorated with flowers and works of art. The church visitors are shown with dignity and reverence. Suddenly the camera cuts to an outdoor scene in which Iraqis enter a well-known mosque in Baghdad, tense and angry and surrounded by religious figures from one of the sectarian factions. Then the camera moves to an interior scene and to a high angle looking down on a large number of worshippers and their shoes, the kind worn inside the home and in bathhouses, which appear above their heads. Instead of the usual sounds of praise that accompany prayers, or the voice of the imam leading the worshippers in prayer, the hoarse voice of a singer performing a song in the Iraqi Maqam style — secular music — rises up, in a direct sign that contempt was intended.

In other scenes, children appear in ragged conditions. Streets are crowded with trash, ancient cars and street vendors. People walk by as though sickened by the obvious unemployment or underemployment, indifferent to the massive military operations that dominate the scene and the complete absence of Iraqi identity.

The audience of “Iraq for Sale” comes away with sympathy for the American citizen and sharp criticism for the American government. In contrast, they will leave with contempt for the Iraqi citizen, who appears in this film as an idiot unconcerned with the matters of his country, sickened and oblivious to the marginalization of national symbols and cultural landmarks of Iraq’s civilization. Returning to the beginning, we find that the question of who is selling Iraq is still open. To answer this question, we recall the words of the well-known French film critic Christian Metz: “A film is difficult to explain because it is so easy to understand.”