SITTING ON SADDAM’S BED—GETTING INSIDE THE MIND OF INSANITY—PART ONE

SITTING ON SADDAM'S BED

Although I never met Saddam Hussein, having visited Baghdad this past May gave me some insight into the man’s mind. Just driving around the city, seeing the buildings, the statues, the billboards, the parks—all in some way, being extensions of Saddam’s mind, gave me some insight into the man who will go on trial before the world.

His palaces, more than any other thing, were the most revealing manifestations of the man we are discussing here. Because they were representations of his dreams, of his true Id and Ego. I must say, in fairness to accuracy, that the state of the palaces, as well as the state of the city in general was no longer in the condition that he’d originally intended. All of the buildings were missing parts where U.S. bombs had landed. There were gaping holes in roofs, swimming pools filled with detritus, dining rooms with tables and chairs, which had been flattened and chandeliers that had fallen from ceilings. Although perhaps seeing the structures with their skeletons exposed in this way revealed, in some ways, even more about the man’s mind than if they’d been completely intact. The fact that they’d been bombed should be considered part of the whole picture here. After all, if the buildings had been the products of a normal mind, they wouldn’t have been the targets of air strikes to begin with.

My point here, is that, even had I never known who Saddam Hussein was, it would not been difficult to tell that whoever had built what we are talking about here, was in fact, as crazy as a loon.

THE PARK SADDAM BUILT FOR HIS MOTHER

At one point during my tour of the city, we passed lines of palm trees that seemed to go on forever. It was an orchard of palms, long, perfectly straight rows, smack dab in the center of Baghdad. My friend and interpreter, Dr. Rafal Badhri said simply, "that’s the park Saddam built for his mother." I had a hard time imagining Saddam’s mother—or anybody’s mother, or anybody at all—enjoying a stroll through a park that was a shadowy forest of trees, the kind of place that when you walked into it, you’d immediately be lost because all directions would appear to be the same. More of a sick joke than a pleasant place to spend an afternoon.

Passing by this park turned out to be one of the first hints that old Saddam just might be one card short of a full deck (no pun intended).