Unusual Challenges in Iraq

Part Five
PASSIONS OF A GLOBAL HOTELIER

Dr. Chandana (Chandi) Jayawardena DPhil
President – Chandi J. Associates Inc. Consulting, Canada
Founder & Administrator – Global Hospitality Forum
chandij@sympatico.ca

Planning for Two Hotel Operations

I was thrilled when the General Manager of Hotel Babylon Oberoi confidentially informed me to be ready to take over the management of a competitor five-star hotel in Baghdad. That same day, I began my strategic planning, assuming the takeover would occur within two weeks. Discreetly, I identified chefs, restaurant managers, and bar supervisors who could be transferred on short notice.

My initial reaction was a shock. The Iraqi government had abruptly decided to terminate the management contract of another hotel, which was run by a professional team employed by a well-known international hotel corporation. I felt saddened for the expatriate managers who would be forced to leave Iraq once Oberoi took over the management. However, in the business world, one organization’s misfortune often translates to another’s opportunity. I was eager to oversee two large operations with 18 food and beverage outlets and around 400 employees. I always loved the challenge of running multiple operations concurrently.

Radeef – The Second Fiddle

In 1989, Iraq’s five-star hotels managed by international corporations were generally allowed to operate with some degree of autonomy. However, the Iraqi government frequently interfered indirectly with spies and occasionally interfered directly with the style of management. These hotels were primarily managed by expatriates, with a few key positions, such as Human Resources Manager, Chief Engineer, and Security Manager, held by qualified and experienced locals. All other management positions at hotels were held by foreigners, with one exception.

Each hotel also had an Iraqi Deputy General Manager, known as the Radeef, meaning “second fiddle.” Most Radeefs had no qualifications or experience in hotel management; their main requirement was loyalty to Saddam Hussein’s Baath Party. They reported directly to the State Organization of Tourism in Iraq (Tourism) and were tasked with monitoring the actions of expatriate managers, reporting any unusual or suspicious activities. In 1989 no one was trusted in Iraq.

Our hotel’s Radeef was a former school teacher before being assigned to Hotel Babylon Oberoi and he was clueless about hotel operations and administration. He never attended our management team meetings and only left his office to dine in the hotel restaurants with Iraqi VIPs and attend confidential meetings outside the hotel.

Recognizing Radeefs’ importance to the owners, I tried to maintain a cordial relationship with him, but he rarely communicated with us. After an incident where the American General Manager at the other hotel showed disrespect to the head of Tourism, leading to their expected loss of the management contract, our Radeefs’ behaviour changed dramatically. He became more active and interfering, likely following direct orders from his superiors at the Baath Party.

The Radeef began walking around the hotel, interfering in departments, giving instructions to junior staff, and micromanaging. At a morning briefing, I informed the General Manager, “Mr. Misra, I have a new problem in my division. Radeef has started giving direct orders to the restaurant managers and head waiters. Can you kindly inform him to go through me for any changes in the food and beverage division, and I will respectfully comply with any reasonable request. He should follow the chain of command.”

At that point Misra gestured for me to stop talking. When I continued to complain, saying, “Radeef must not undermine the authority of divisional heads and departmental managers,” Misra became annoyed. He stood up and gestured with his index finger for me to follow him, leaving the rest of our management team baffled.

I followed Misra to the middle of the front garden of the hotel. “Mr. Jayawardena, please don’t complain about Radeef in my office, which is wiretapped! Everything we discuss there can be heard at the Baath Party head office.” I was sceptical but decided to keep quiet.

Misra continued, “Look, I fully understand your frustration. I will deal with it. With the forthcoming favour Oberoi will do for Tourism by taking over the other hotel, I can negotiate to replace the Radeef with a properly qualified and experienced hotelier as the new Deputy General Manager. No five-star hotel in Iraq has been allowed to do this before. In fact, the Radeef will be replaced next week by Mr. P. G. Mathews, a well-known hotelier from India and a graduate of the Oberoi Hotel School.”

Wiretapping as a Welcome Gesture

Within a week, the Radeef left and vacated his office at the hotel. While the maintenance and housekeeping staff prepared the office for the arrival of our new Deputy General Manager, two outsiders with rolls of wire approached me and asked, “Which office will be occupied by Mr. P. G. Mathews?” When I inquired about their role, they responded without hesitation, “We are electricians from the Baath Party head office. We must do an urgent wiring job.” They openly wiretapped the office and left.

When P. G. Mathews (PG) arrived with his wife Roshni and their four-year-old daughter Mihika, my family immediately became good friends with them. Even after 35 years, we keep in touch with them. When I warned PG about his wiretapped office, he was surprised. Following my deputy, T. P. Singh’s funny example, I told PG, “Welcome to Iraq!” PG did not find it amusing.

Our Social Life in Baghdad

Despite the unusual challenges we faced in Baghdad, we enjoyed the friendliness of the Iraqi people and the camaraderie among our expatriate colleagues and friends. The expatriate community was like a close-knit group of career diplomats, always sticking together and watching each other’s backs. We celebrated every occasion, such as birthdays of expatriate managers at the hotel or their kids, with parties.

Our Sri Lankan friends from other hotels, especially the Happuwatte family (Kamal, Preethi, and their daughter Varunika) from Al Rasheed Hotel, visited us frequently, and we visited them at their staff quarters. We also learned from each other’s experiences living in Iraq during these peaceful yet uncertain times.

The Plight of the Kurds

Coming from Sri Lanka, which was in 1989 embroiled in an ethnic separatist war, I was naturally interested in the minority Kurds in Iraq and some neighbouring countries. During my visits to the northern parts of Iraq, I had the opportunity to associate with Kurdish communities.

Some of our new Kurdish friends visited us at our suite at Hotel Babylon Oberoi, though they feared to speak openly about their plight. A regular Kurdish visitor to our suite was a single father named Azad and his three-year-old beautiful daughter, Jiyan. My son Marlon was intrigued by Jiyan’s blond hair and blue eyes, features that are not uncommon among certain Kurdish tribes.

Kurdish people, or Kurds, are an Iranic ethnic group native to the mountainous region of Kurdistan in Western Asia, which spans southeastern Turkey, northwestern Iran, northern Iraq, and northern Syria. Kurds speak the Kurdish languages and the Zaza–Gorani languages. The Kurdish population worldwide is estimated to be over 30 million. Despite their significant population, Kurds do not comprise a majority in any country, making them a stateless people.

Much of the geographical and cultural region of Iraqi Kurdistan is part of the Kurdistan Region, an autonomous area recognized by the Constitution of Iraq. During World War I, the British and French divided West Asia arbitrarily, creating waves of social, political, religious, and economic conflicts over the next century. Defiant to the British, in 1922, Shaikh Mahmud declared a Kurdish Kingdom with himself as king. It took two years for the British to bring Kurdish areas into submission. During World War II, the power vacuum in Iraq was exploited by the Kurdish tribes, leading to a rebellion in the north that effectively gained control of Kurdish areas until 1945, when the Iraqi government, with British support, could once again subdue the Kurds.

During the Iran–Iraq War, the Iraqi government implemented harsh anti-Kurdish policies, resulting in a de facto civil war. Iraq was widely condemned by the international community but was never seriously punished for its oppressive measures. These included the use of chemical weapons against the Kurds, resulting in thousands of deaths just before I arrived in Iraq in 1989. Some accused Saddam Hussein’s government of committing systematic genocide against the Kurdish people, including the wholesale destruction of some 2,000 villages and the slaughter of around 50,000 rural Kurds, by the most conservative estimates.

Hosting Uday Hussein

While awaiting the decision from the Oberoi Hotel corporate office about taking over the management of a competitor hotel in Baghdad, I was compelled to regularly provide hospitality to the notorious Uday Hussein.

Uday, the elder son of President Saddam Hussein, was an influential and feared figure in Iraq. He held numerous positions, including sports chairman, military officer, and businessman, and was the head of the Iraqi Olympic Committee and Iraq Football Association. He also commanded the Fedayeen Saddam, a loyalist paramilitary organization that served as his father’s personal guard. Although dynastic succession is rare in a federal parliamentary republic, Uday was widely considered Saddam Hussein’s heir apparent.

Mrs. Mishra hosting an Oberoi expatriate birthday party for Mihika

Before my first meeting with Uday, I had heard many horror stories about his behaviour. He was reportedly erratically ruthless and intimidating to both perceived adversaries and close friends. Relatives and personal acquaintances were often victims of his violence and rage. Witnesses alleged that he was guilty of rape, murder, and various forms of torture, including the arrest and torture of Iraqi Olympic athletes and national football team members whenever they lost a match.

Uday was reputed as a flamboyant womanizer who financed his lavish lifestyle largely through smuggling and racketeering. He was feared in many circles in Iraq, and people generally avoided making direct eye contact with him. It was my misfortune that Uday’s favourite hangout night club happened to be Githara at Hotel Babylon Oberoi.

One Thursday around 10:00 pm, while I was working as the hotel’s duty manager, I was abruptly approached at the hotel lobby by a tough-looking man in uniform. “I am Ali, the head bodyguard for His Excellency, Uday Hussein. Clear our favourite corner at Githara Night Club for six VVIPs,” he commanded. His words were not a request but an order. “Sure, will do that immediately”, I said and reached to shake his hand, a gesture he rudely ignored.

Working with staff accustomed to these visits, especially on Thursday nights, I quickly made the arrangements. When the group arrived, they were all armed with guns, which they did not surrender at the entrance to the night club, unlike all other patrons who obeyed this house rule. None in my team had the courage to request Uday’s group to respect the house rules.

I clearly remember all details of my first encounter with Uday Hussein, although he avoided speaking with me directly. In his eyes hoteliers were simply servants who must cater to whims and fancies of VVIPs. He was imposing, nearly six and a half feet tall, and looked much older than his official age of 25 in 1989. There was always uncertainty about his exact birthday or whether the person in front of me was Uday himself or his body double, who was reputedly forced to undergo many plastic surgeries. Like his bodyguards, Uday was already under the influence of alcohol. When he spoke with his five bodyguards, I noticed that he had difficulty speaking clearly due to an abnormality in his mouth.

As soon as the group settled in their favourite corner, they scanned the night club for attractive single women. The atmosphere changed immediately; most of the other customers and all our night club staff looked uncomfortable and worried.

Ali then gave his second order to the Night Club Manager, “Twelve portions of the usual! Now!” The bar staff knew the drill and promptly prepared a strong cocktail with whiskey, brandy, vodka, cognac, and champagne. “That’s his favourite to get the girls drunk,” my deputy, T. P. Singh, whispered in my ear. “Boss, I am off now. As per your new instructions, I must return to work before breakfast service. Enjoy your duty manager shift till 4:00 am,” TP left, looking relieved.

I observed as the cocktail was served in a large ‘cup of friendship’, and Uday’s new female friends had to drink it all. Uday was known for forcing guests to consume large quantities of alcohol at his parties. According to some rumours, whoever earned Uday’s friendship had to drink that cocktail, also named the ‘Uday Saddam Hussein’. They were preparing for a night of ‘fun, outrageous adventures, and horror’.

To be continued next week, including a section: ‘My Final Encounter with Uday Hussein’…