Iraq: Defeat And Flight

Beset by the Arabs, Turks and Iranians who surround them, the Kurds say they have no friends save the mountains. And it was to the mountains that hundreds of thousands of -- some say as many as 3 million -- Kurds fled last week for refuge from the wrath of Saddam Hussein.

It had all seemed so different for a brief spring of hope. Taking advantage of Saddam's humiliation in Kuwait, the Kurds liberated the major northern cities of Erbil, Sulaymaniyah and Kirkuk. They blessed Haji Bush for initiating their salvation, granting the American President the title earned by Muslims who have made the pilgrimage to Mecca. They were certain that the U.S. and its allies -- who had repeatedly urged Iraqis to throw off Saddam's yoke -- would come to their aid. But their joy lasted for only one cruel moment. By the end of March, Saddam's loyal forces had crushed the rebellion, and the Kurds awoke to their perpetual nightmare: defeat and flight.

And so hundreds of thousands of beaten rebels and terrified civilians commandeered Toyotas, donkey carts, bicycles and buses to flee the battle zone and the retribution of Iraqi troops. Columns of people and vehicles, sometimes 50 miles long, snaked into the hills. Families packed themselves into the scoops of bulldozers. Tractors dragged trailers overloaded with passengers. Tourist buses wheezed desperately up the mountain roads. Near the Turkish border, a tall, eagle-faced man strapped 14 members of his family -- including seven children, his wife and his grandmother -- and innumerable pots, kettles, basins and chicken coops to a huge John Deere tractor. As he helped extract the car of a Western journalist mired in a bog, he spat out a complaint: "Why? Why do you Americans allow this to happen? Saddam will kill us all -- men, women and children. Why doesn't Bush do something? Why should all my children die? Why?"

The Kurds had no patience for geopolitical explanations. They were bitter at what they considered the betrayal of the U.S. Two weeks earlier, Washington seemed to promise that it would protect them from Saddam's unbridled use of air power, but now they were under constant fire from the sky. "We complained 10 times to the Americans that the Iraqis were using fixed-wing aircraft against us. We never received a reply," said an aide to Massoud Barzani, the commander in chief of the rebels. "One might think the U.S. and Mr. Bush want to see all the Kurds massacred."

If even the enemy of their enemy would not prove to be their friend, there were only the mountains to run to. The journey ahead was painful and for some nearly impossible. Outside the town of Kalak an elderly woman, wounded in the leg, sat helplessly by the side of the road, sweat pouring from her face. Beyond lay the snowcaps and hunger and the cries of unshod children sobbing from frostbite. But below and behind were worse fates: fire and death and tales of terror.