When widespread looting broke out in Iraq following the fall of Baghdad, I suspect the typical response of Western TV-watchers was a cluck of disapproval — a kind of sighing, boys-will-be-boys dismissal.
Now, over the weekend, we’ve seen the shocking consequences of such looting. In 48 hours, the National Museum of Iraq has been emptied of priceless collections dating back more than 5,000 years. With the stealing of an estimated 170,000 artifacts may have gone an inestimable treasury of understanding about the Mesopotamian cultures that gave birth to modern civilization — and about the region, now called Iraq, in which they developed.
So it’s worth asking, What’s all this looting about?
In one sense, of course, it’s not new. The history of Mesopotamia is filled with accounts of conquering armies pillaging the kingdoms they defeated. Lamentable, yes. But not news.
This time was different: Here the conquering army stepped back while the citizens pillaged their own nation. This was not outsiders wrecking the most cherished relics of a civilization; it was a people vandalizing its own history. Why would people pillage themselves?
Among the more benign answers, often put forward in current commentary, is vengeance. According to this interpretation, Iraqis aren’t pillaging themselves. Instead, they’re seeking revenge on a hated regime by attacking its buildings and institutions. The National Museum was hardly a public place: As part of Saddam’s apparatus, it had been closed during much of the period since the first Gulf War, its activities hidden from view.
Another answer, equally common, is exuberance. This argument notes that, having just been let out of a 24-year-old box into which Saddam’s regime had put them, the looters are simply expressing delight in their newfound freedom.
A third answer lies in economics: After decades of deprivation and a dozen years of sanctions, ordinary Iraqis lack so many commonplace things that the looting is nothing more than a redistribution of wealth.
Each of these answers paints part of the picture, though each has its flaws. If the reason is revenge against Saddam, why have so many ordinary neighborhoods in Baghdad been forced to erect barriers to keep looters at bay? If the reason is exuberance, why wasn’t South Africa pillaged clean after the 1994 election that ended apartheid and brought Nelson Mandela to power? And if it’s economics, why did the Baghdad looters visit such destruction upon the diplomatic property of France and Germany — whose governments sought to slow the destruction of Saddam’s regime — while apparently leaving other foreign property alone?
But I suspect there’s a larger, less benign reason here: the widespread moral degradation that comes through abiding, relentless corruption. That’s not to say that Iraqis are inherently more prone to bribery and extortion than other people. But like the liberated populaces in Russia, Afghanistan, and other countries living under tyrannies, they may well have become habituated to corruption simply as a way of surviving. Iraqis may have had to invent ways to work around repressive situations where so much was illegal, where shakedowns were commonplace, where Saddam’s officials had life-and-death personal power, and where police brutality was very real.
How did they cope? Probably through an underground economy. At best, such an economy works through an old-boy network of winks and nods, a studious non-reporting of factual details, and a merry abundance of cash. At worst, it operates with the same tyrannical power, ruthless precision, and lathering of bribery and extortion that characterizes the repressive regime itself.
Of the many motivations for corruption, two seem relevant to the situation in Iraq. The first is straightforward: They owe me, and now it’s payback time. The second is more ethically convoluted: The only way to get ahead is to cheat others before they cheat you, to look out for No. 1, and to use the elements of corruption itself to make your way forward.
The motivations for the current looting are probably complex, ranging from the benign to the nefarious. They’re also foreseeable. Given what we’ve seen in other modern wartime situations — Kosovo comes to mind — looting should come as no surprise. Yes, Iraqis should have shown some moral restraint. But it’s now clear that the coalition military forces should also have restrained them more forcefully. They should have anticipated the major targets of the looters, especially the museum. They should have exercised enough cultural and moral futurism to see this one coming.
And they should have read history. They should have known that Caesar is still notorious for destroying, in 48 B.C., the library at Alexandria, which at the time was the greatest in the world. That’s not the legacy U.S. forces meant to leave behind in liberating Baghdad.
(c)2003 Institute for Global Ethics