I returned to Baghdad in April 2003 with big dreams in my luggage. I thought they would be applicable under the umbrella of the "Reconstruction Council" and the technical team led by Emad Al-Kharsan. Expectations at that time touched the sky, and I felt for the first moment that we were facing a historical moment to reformulate state institutions on modern scientific foundations. But I soon found myself, along with an elite group of Iraqi technocrats, caught in a well-sealed "pincer" between two unrelenting jaws: the jaw of local administration, which was mired in rigid bureaucracy and psychological rejection of everything new, and the jaw of foreign advisors in the Coalition Provisional Authority—most of whom came with the mentality of "temporary contractors" ignorant of the specificity of Iraqi society, and chasing quick paper achievements to please their bosses in Washington.
In my early days, Baghdad seemed to me like a surreal painting of chaotic disorder. Streets choked with traffic of faces seeking livelihoods amid conflicting gatherings, where remnants of Ba'athists mixed with faces of opposition returning from exile in haste, everyone anticipating seizing opportunities. I felt a strange disorientation then; my logic, refined by years abroad—based on reason, order, and respect for time—suddenly seemed like outdated currency with no market in this new environment.
Here began the 'alienation of homeland.' A sharp feeling of isolation broken only by the warmth of meeting relatives and friends, and recalling memories that gave me shelter of love and security amid the waves of political anxiety. I found myself in a political 'bazaar' par excellence, where agendas collide—this one chasing dominance, that one racing to accumulate wealth, and between them the enthusiast for change standing face to face with the pessimist about the future.
Amid this noise, the slogan of the Iraqi Students Association in the United Kingdom echoed in my ears, which we had long repeated: "Scientific excellence and return to the homeland." Here I had finally returned, but I returned lost. Instead of investing the expertise I carried, I found everyone pressuring me as a gateway to personal benefits—this one wants a job, that one seeks a university seat, and another aspires to a commercial contract, as if the return was not to contribute to building a nation, but to manage a disappointment wrapped in personal expectations.