Friday, Sep 5, 2008
"There is nothing to suggest that the Iraqi government has the capability for using cyber-warfare," says Ahmed Shames, an Iraqi who emigrated in 1996 and now resides in London. Shames, chairman of the Iraqi Prospect Organization, a group of young Iraqi expatriates calling for the overthrow of Saddam, says it is unlikely that Iraq's ruler has marshaled a cyber-war contingent.
Similarly, Sameer says he has not heard of any Iraqi computer experts being drafted into such service. Instead, he said it was more probable that Saddam would attempt to recruit offensive computer mercenaries from abroad.
Even the author of a recent novel about U.S.-Iraq cyber-war concedes it is doubtful that Saddam has sufficient home-grown talent to harm the U.S. with computer attacks. Bill Neugent, chief engineer for cyber-security at Mitre Corporation and author of "No Outward Sign" (Writers Club Press, 2002), says Iraq could, however, enlist help from sympathetic Muslims in the West. In his book, Iraqi-Americans living in Washington attack U.S. government systems to frame Iraq and goad the U.S. to retaliate.
Instead of cultivating its cyber-war readiness, Iraq's government appears to be focusing its technical prowess on spying on and restricting its citizens' use of the Internet. Shames says Iraqis must assume that every message they send or receive is being monitored by Big Brother.
Sometimes, as in the case of Sameer's sibling back in Baghdad -- a teacher and one of the lucky Iraqis to have Internet access at home -- e-mail service mysteriously stops for weeks.
"I don't know why. Maybe it is just a technical problem. Or maybe someone is blocking the account," says Sameer.
To evade the state's widely publicized snooping, some savvy Iraqis have set up webmail accounts at providers such as Yahoo, as if calculating that the probable surveillance by U.S. intelligence authorities is less dire.
But there are few means around the government's blockades of "objectionable" Web content, which, besides porn, includes domain registration sites, according to Heider Sati, an Al-Mansour graduate now running his own London-based IT consulting firm. The restriction, perhaps designed to muzzle protest speech, means Iraqis are unable to register and create their own Web sites. (Sati says he registered and hosts alMansourCollege.net, on behalf of his alma mater, for free.)
Despite these limitations, some of Iraq's geeks say they would suffer if the country lost its Internet connection, whether due to conventional bombs or cyber-attacks.
"[It's] just like having drugs," said Al-Shalchi of his dependence on e-mail and Web access.
But for average Iraqis, the Internet is likely still an unreliable luxury, not a necessity. Richard M. Smith, a U.S. computer expert, notes that a counter on the home page of Uruklink.net shows that the vast majority of the site's visitors are from the U.S.
Like many Iraqi citizens and expatriates with relatives still in the country, Sati is guarded about his views on the outcome of the potential war and refuses to comment on his views of Saddam. But he did say that if a U.S. strike takes out Iraq's network, he and others will quickly work to restore alternative service to citizens.
"There are many people like me who would do anything to help the Iraqis, as we all feel that this is our responsibility toward Iraq," says Sati.
Sati's circumspection lapses a bit, however, as he describes dreams of a day when he can return to Iraq and help lay new fiber networks, beef up the country's hardware, and otherwise retool its Internet networks.
Even Al-Botany seems to be anticipating big changes ahead. His Web job with SCIS, he says, doesn't pay enough for him to own a car or a house for himself, his wife, and his toddler son. With his contract with the Iraqi government due to run out in six months, Al-Botany asks whether a reporter could help him find a job in the United States.
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