Persuading professionals to stay is tough task for Iraq

BAGHDAD — Naqi Shakir sits on a sagging mattress pushed against a wall. His wife and two daughters perch on tattered sofas and chairs crowded into the one room of the house with signs of family life: personal photographs tacked to the wall, a TV, books, and knickknacks on dusty shelves.

Except for a folding table and chairs in the kitchen, nearly everything has been sold so the family can bolt, as soon as someone rents the two-story home in a relatively safe Baghdad neighborhood.

At a time when the Iraqi government is encouraging its citizens to return and the U.S. military is highlighting security gains across Iraq, the Shakirs nevertheless want out. They see no future here for Iraqis such as themselves: well-educated, affluent, secular or non-Muslim.

Their imminent departure is a major concern to Iraq, which has suffered a traumatic brain drain in the past five years and is struggling to lure back or keep educated professionals.

In June, the government raised civil-servant salaries 50 to 75 percent to bring back state employees such as teachers and doctors, many of whom were fired after the 2003 U.S.-led invasion that toppled Saddam Hussein. Iraq's Ministry of Displacement and Migration says tens of thousands of people have returned since last fall. But with more than 2.5 million Iraqis having fled, political and business leaders believe it will be many years before the loss of professionals can be reversed.

The Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees said it monitored the main border crossing linking Iraq to Syria from January to July 2008 and found that 7,200 more Iraqis left than entered. And some say a new U.S. policy opening the door to more Iraqi refugees each year is exacerbating the situation.

"It's counterproductive," said Raad Ommar, president of the Iraqi American Chamber of Commerce and Industry in Baghdad.

In the years since the fall of Saddam, the chamber would receive 200 to 300 applications when it placed a newspaper ad seeking a staff attorney, public-relations executive, engineer or administrative worker. Now, Ommar is lucky to attract 20, usually from people sorely lacking in experience. Ommar used to say economic recovery would take a couple of years.

"Now, if I say five years, I'm not confident," he said. "I think, in general, people don't really have much confidence in the future."

Experienced doctors gone

More than 7,000 physicians have left Iraq since 2003, including virtually all who had 20 years' or more experience, said Mustafa Hiti, a member of parliament who sits on its health committee. About 600 have returned, he said, but none are top-flight specialists.

Most specialists were Sunni Arabs who, to achieve their professional status, were members of Saddam's Baath Party. Even if they did not adhere to its ideology, they were ostracized and forced from their jobs after Saddam was ousted. Now, they do not feel comfortable in a country run by Shiites, said Hiti.

At the Ministry of Higher Education, spokeswoman Siham Shujairi said 6,700 professors have left Iraq since 2003 and only about 150 have returned. About 300 have been killed.

Shakir, 65, used to make good money as a customs clearing agent, but he closed shop after the 2003 U.S.-led invasion because of security worries. The family smuggled his son out of the country in 2005 after two failed kidnapping attempts. The Shakirs' car has been riddled with bullets in a random shooting on a Baghdad street, and a car bomb in the neighborhood damaged their home.

"There is nobody upholding justice here," Shakir said as a soap opera flickered on the TV and the family's dog ran excited circles across the floor.

His daughters Rafah and Raghad, both in their 30s, feel pressure to wear veils outside although the family is Christian.

Shift of power

Even though security has improved, professionals continue to be targets of assassinations by extremists who see them as being pro-Western or religious infidels. In addition, the power in Iraq lies with conservative Shiites, and there is no sign that will change any time soon.

Even if provincial elections — considered key to balancing power among Shiites, Sunnis, Kurds and others — take place later this year, the parties now in power probably will come out on top again. That's because of name recognition and because the provincial election law likely to govern the vote allows parties to use religious symbols on the ballots.

"I'm sure it'll play in favor of the Shiite Islamist parties," said a senior U.S. official.

Ali, 26, who has a medical degree and hopes to immigrate to the U.S., checked off the frustrations of everyday life: power outages; lack of clean tap water; hours-long waits to buy fuel for cars and generators; and the lack of social life because most of his friends have departed and late-night restaurants, nightclubs and cinemas have closed.

"The gas lines — people just sit there for hours and hours, like they're dead," Ali said, growing visibly infuriated as he spoke. "It's like a stage-4 cancer," he said of Iraq's growing problems.

Ahmed Farhan, who works as a chef in Scotland, returned to Iraq for the first time in 14 years this month and couldn't wait to leave again. He and his family are Shiites, but Farhan said he found the atmosphere stifling and the sight of armed police and soldiers on street corners unnerving.

"It's a losing battle," he said, arguing against the idea that educated Iraqis such as himself are the best hope for reversing the brain drain.