All journalists are requested to register at the Ministry of Information Press Center when they arrive. So after driving 600 miles from Jordan--the only way into Iraq--that's what I did. All journalists are requested to be accompanied by a guide whenever they want to film. So I was. All photographers are requested to ask for written permission 24 hours in advance before taking any pictures. So I did.
The list of pictures I wasn't allowed to take shows the determination of the Iraqi government to give the international world a certain image of its country. It wants to show the damage created by the war and the embargo, but it doesn't want to show any actual deprivation. Because the intent is contradictory, the rules get confusing.
Some sites can be photographed only from the north side; others, only from the south side. I couldn't take any pictures of official buildings such as ministries, banks, strategic points such as the river, bridges or the airport, where two members of the family worked. I was not allowed to photograph children working in the market and cleaning shoes in the street. Also prohibited were the beautiful horse-drawn carriages that home-deliver fuel; a very common scene in the suburbs of Baghdad but too "primitive" (said my guide) to appear in a picture. Nor could I photograph the Saddam Clock, a very kitschy monument with a shiny square clock on top built to glorify Saddam Hussein, because it is unfinished and too new-looking. And so on.
The government chose the Saleh and Ali families for me and I was always escorted by a guide, but despite the unavoidable awkwardness and lack of intimacy I tried to capture something of the flavor of their lives. Although it was not in any way the fault of these nice people, working in Iraq was the most frustrating experience of my photographic career.
