Iraqi delegation survives to compete in Beijing

BEIJING — The official from the Iraqi delegation, about an hour late for a meeting, apologizes. A pressing issue kept him, he explains.

Tiras Anwaya, chief of mission for the Iraqi team at the Beijing Olympics, has just returned from a local hospital, where he took his secretary-general. In a few hours, the man would undergo surgery to repair an old, persistent gunshot wound.

"He was hit by soldiers," Anwaya said, illustrating the bullet's path through the lower torso. "He took a chance coming here."

Not coming was not an option. Not for any Iraqi who could. For a while, it appeared that Iraq would not be allowed into these Olympics because of government interference in sports. In the end, only four athletes were eligible to make the trip, but for the Iraqis, this never was about the number of athletes they could bring or the number of medals they could win.

It was about the flag they could bring.

It was about facing whatever danger was put before them — dodging bullets during training when necessary — in order to join 203 other countries at the Games.

Anwaya could never have envisioned this accomplishment when he was a beach-loving student at Palm Beach Community College (a school he chose because his grandfather had an apartment behind a restaurant on Palm Beach). But in his 64 years, he has lived through a great many surprises, not all of them pleasant.

About a year and a half ago, Anwaya made the mistake of driving to the north of Iraq in a BMW. A band of kidnappers abducted them, forcing them into the trunk of the car.

Anwaya hoped that the strangers were not religious extremists but merely criminals seeking a ransom. If that were the case, he said to himself, "I have a chance of being alive."

Anwaya, an Assyrian Christian, began to pray.

"I put my strength in St. George, our patron saint," he said. "I accepted it and that's it."

He chuckles. A startling reaction, he is told. At this notion, he chuckles more.

"This is not the first time I am exposed to a dangerous life," he said. "We accept death very easily."

Two Iraqi Olympians, rowers Haidar Nozad and Hussein Jebur, train on Baghdad's Tigris River, where sometimes, they must row in tight circles.

"It's sometimes very dangerous as there can be explosions," Nozad said. "Before, it used to scare us, but now, it's just a part of everyday life."

Sprinter Dana Hussein has hit the dirt in training, her speed no match for a sniper taking aim. To get to her mortar-scarred training track, her and her coach must bribe Shiites and Sunnis.

"You get a mortar bomb, a car explosion, everything," Anwaya said. "It is difficult, but they train. I consider all of them champions."

He's not alone. At the Opening Ceremony, the Iraqis received star treatment, much like four years ago, when the Olympic Village stopped and took note when the green-clad Iraqis arrived.

"I think we are the second-most-popular team in Athens, after Greece, and now, the same after China," Anwaya said.

"Forward, China! Forward, Iraq!" the Chinese fans yelled to them.

"It was beautiful," Anwaya said.

The Iraqis are here as guests of the International Olympic Committee, which paid for the trip after initially banning it. It had been a crushing blow, epitomized by the reaction of Hussein, 22, when she was told that she could always try again in 2012: "Who can say if I'll even be alive in 2012?"

Anwaya worked quietly to persuade the IOC to let the Iraqis attend. So did Robert Fasulo, the U.S. Olympic Committee's chief of international relations.

"It was important for us to do everything we could behind the scenes," Fasulo said.

Both countries would like to see more Iraqi athletes have a chance to train in the United States, but obtaining a visa has become so arduous that Anwaya said he is giving up.

"We're losing a lot, because the USOC has a lot to offer," Anwaya said.

Said Fasulo: "It's something we do think we can overcome."

For now, Fasulo takes solace in knowing what participating in Beijing means to Iraq.

"It's a return to normalcy," he said. "It's a sense of identity for the country and pride and fulfillment. With everything they've gone through, we believe it's a source of inspiration."

It was in 2004, when Iraq's soccer team made an improbable run to place fourth.

"Even the terrorists stopped shooting to watch football," Anwaya said. "And when we won, everybody was shooting at the air. We thought all the ammunition was finished. Unfortunately, it did not finish."

Still, he said, conditions are better. Anwaya, who lives in Baghdad, said he no longer worries about driving from his home to his Olympic Committee's headquarters. That route used to be a popular targets for terrorists intent on making a statement by abducting Olympians.

Anwaya was fortunate to miss a meeting in 2006 when kidnappers abducted, among others, Ahmed Abdul Ghafour Assamarai, president of Iraq committee for the Olympics. Assamarai hasn't been heard from since.

Also gone are Saddam Hussein and son Uday, who tortured athletes he believed underachieved. Even Anwaya, a sixth-degree black belt in karate, could not escape Uday's wrath. As secretary general of Iraq's karate federation, Anwaya was ordered by Uday to throw the judging at an event. Anwaya said that when he refused, he was suspended, brought back, then suspended again. He was forced to move to northern Iraq, where he taught at a university until Saddam Hussein was overthrown.

During his kidnapping ordeal, Anwaya spent three nights in the desert.

"I was released after they realized I have nothing," he said. "I'm not a rich man."

He chuckles, again, thinking about the price of his own life: Kidnappers originally wanted $200,000 for the two captives but settled for $10,000 from Iraq's Olympic Committee.

"Very cheap," he said.

If life is improving now, it wasn't bad in his younger days. He spent nine years studying physical education in Florida, first at PBCC, then at the University of South Florida in Tampa.

"I loved it," he said. "I had a good life in West Palm Beach. I was 100, 200 meters away from the beach."

He never made it to the Olympics as an athlete, but he has made four as an official. He was delighted to don the green and white and march into the Bird's Nest behind flag-bearer Hamzah Al-hilfi, a rower.

As Anwaya walked, his 4-year-old grandson watched on television.

"He asked his mother, 'Why is Granddad only holding a small flag?' He should have a big flag for himself,' " Anwaya said, laughing once more. "So I started explaining to him, 'You only have one big flag for every country.' "

One big flag accomplished the mission just fine.

Hal Habib writes for The Palm Beach Post.