Feature: Palestinian pocket in Iraq chaos

AL-WALEED, Iraq, Nov. 27 (UPI) -- In a barren corner of Iraq's Anbar province, nearly 2,000 Palestinians have sought safety in a makeshift, trash-strewn camp from what they say is anti-Palestinian violence in Baghdad.

Just a stone's throw away from them is the border with Syria. But they can't cross. Bureaucratic hurdles on both sides of the frontier stand in the way, and possible resettlement in other countries is likewise stymied for the time being.

For the Middle East's perennial victims -- not to mention political footballs -- it's a life in limbo after years of relatively normal living, albeit with perks provided by Saddam Hussein.

"Since 2006 we've been targeted, especially after the attacks on the (Shiite) mosques in Samara, because we are Palestinians," said Awad Dalah, an elder at the camp on the outskirts of al-Waleed. "We've lost about 300 people in Baghdad. Some were killed; others were kidnapped and just disappeared.

"The (Iraqi) media talked about Arabs being involved, and Palestinians are Arabs and Sunni, so people started talking about us being involved, and the (Shiite) militias came after us."

The February 2006 bombing of the al-Askari mosque -- the mosque of the Golden Dome -- was a major event in post-Saddam Iraq. The mosque is one of the holiest sites for Shiite Muslims, and its violation unleashed a spasm of violence that nearly propelled the country to sectarian civil war between Sunnis and Shiites. No group has yet claimed responsibility, but al-Qaida is now generally presumed to be the culprit.

According to the U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees, more than 30,000 Palestinians lived in Iraq in 2006, mostly in Baghdad and its environs. The estimate today is about 15,000.

Palestinians first settled in Iraq as refugees following the creation of the state of Israel in 1948. Under Saddam, who billed himself as the champion of Arab nationalism, they were allowed to move about freely, open businesses and live in either government-provided or government-subsidized housing, but not allowed to own land. They were also exempt from compulsory military service.

Palestinian families in Iraq, and elsewhere, whose sons and daughters lost their lives fighting Israel, were given $25,000 by Saddam as a gesture of condolence, gratitude and solidarity.

Things headed south for Iraq's Palestinians almost as soon as Saddam's statue in Baghdad toppled in 2003. Landlords jacked up rents or evicted them from their apartments, and according to reports they were soon a target of suspicion by new Iraqi authorities.

The bombing of the Shiite holy site was a match to the powder keg of lingering resentment.

"La, la, la (no, no, no), we got no special treatment from Saddam," Dalah protested. "But now we are losing our homes and our children don't go to school.

"Our children are suffering. We are suffering. Just look. You think we want to live like this, in tents, with snakes around?"

The al-Waleed Palestinian camp lies on the outskirts of the town. If it wasn't at a border entry point with Syria and on the main Damascus-Baghdad road, it probably wouldn't even merit an asterisk on a map.

Al-Waleed's people survive on trade and commerce with occupants of the 100 goods trucks, plus buses and private vehicles, that pass through the port of entry daily. And the emphasis is on the word survive.

The Palestinian camp is even more depressing to look at: Row upon row of tents, discarded fruit juice cans, water bottles, peelings and other garbage everywhere.

The pride of the camp, however, is an old one-story building repainted by the displaced Palestinians. It's being used as a school. But the basic lessons for many of the estimated 700 children in the camp under the age of 15 aren't given by professional teachers. They're given by camp adults.

The camp population is a blink over 1,900 now, up from 1,400 just a few weeks ago. And the promise is that it will continue to grow. International aid organizations fear increasing difficulties as winter approaches and the United Nations is working to find new countries for its occupants, but the process is slow.

Meanwhile, Dalah and the others mark time.

But they don't go hungry. Food, tents and cooking fuel are supplied by international aid organizations. There is also a new, U.N.-supplied generator for electricity and fuel to run it.

The camp has apparently posed no security problems so far for Iraqi border police or for the U.S. Marines mentoring them. Lt. Col. Stefan Bien, from the 2nd Marines, said there have been reports of insurgents recruiting in the camp, which is unguarded, with open access, "but I haven't found evidence of it. I haven't been able to hammer that down."

Dalah, when asked by a reporter, denied there was truth to the rumors.

"This is wrong information," he said. "We have no one involved in the insurgency. People here ran from it."

He also said camp residents have their own watch system, and suspect strangers entering the camp would be reported to Iraqi authorities.

There is a company-sized contingent of U.S. Marines, plus former U.S. Customs and Border Patrol contractors, at a dusty camp near the official port of entry at al-Waleed. Their job, under the command of Bien, is to provide backup security to Iraqi personnel at the port, while helping the Iraqis establish trained and professional border units -- from passport and customs operations to port and border security.