Iraqi native learns journalism on the front lines
Just four years ago, Iraqi native Bassam Sebti was covering a demonstration-turned-riot in Baghdad as a first-time reporter for The Washington Post. The city was exploding with violence and outrage, and Sebti was an eyewitness caught in the action, writing down what he saw for an article about the turbulent war.
Now, Sebti is half a world away, preparing for his graduation from Saint Joseph's University in Philadelphia. Fluent in English (both of his parents were English teachers and he attended an English-speaking high school in Baghdad), Sebti has used his time in graduate school to polish his writing skills in the writing studies program. He hopes to re-enter the workforce as a journalist, but this time, on American soil.
Sebti's career began in 2003 when, just out of college and at the top of his class, a friend contacted him about interpreting and translating for American journalist Jill Carroll – who was later kidnapped and ultimately released – for the Christian Science Monitor in Baghdad. It was Carroll who subsequently contacted The Washington Post's Baghdad bureau chief and recommended Sebti, who joined the Post as an interpreter and translator, often working seven days a week accompanying American journalists on their assignments.
"During that time, I focused on how American reporters asked questions, took notes and behaved. I really learned as I worked my first year with the Post," says Sebti. Initially, he didn't feel unsafe traveling into various Baghdad neighborhoods with American reporters. But by early 2004, after the first American civilian was kidnapped, things changed.
As it became more dangerous for American correspondents to cover public events, Sebti started volunteering for the stories that western reporters were uncomfortable reporting. Often, he went under cover, as it was dangerous to show his affiliation with an American media outlet.
"I would arrive at a scene and hide my notebook because I didn't want people to know I was a reporter. I would memorize what was going on and pull people aside if I needed to interview them or gather information. It was somewhat easy for me, because it was my country. I could blend in with the people and pretend like I was just watching," Sebti says. "Once I got back to the Post, I would write everything down."
Over the next year, Sebti covered countless events. He still remembers one particular suicide bombing: "About 43 Iraqi children had been killed that day. The scene was amazingly disturbing. You could see torn pieces of clothing from the children, pieces of their hair. Rubble was burning or covered in blood, flesh was everywhere. But I had to compose myself and do my job. It wasn't easy for me. It wouldn't be easy for any human being."
He later survived an explosion when a rocket hit the office next to his, and one night in 2005, when he and a friend were driving on the highway past curfew, their vehicle got caught in an exchange of gunfire between Iraqi police and insurgents.
"I thought that was my end," Sebti recalls. "I thought there was no way I could survive. When we came to a stop, my friend and I were checking our bodies for gunshots and wounds because I literally saw bullets raining above me."
Later that year, visiting the Baghdad Morgue for a story related to an important shrine bombing, he walked within inches of over 1300 corpses; most of the victims were in their 20s and 30s and had been beheaded, mutilated or tortured and left in the streets.
Sebti explains, "I started having nightmares every night. Of the morgue, people chasing me, killing my family."
By early 2006, it was too dangerous and devastating to continue everyday life as a reporter. "I felt I was not only in a prison, but in hell," he explains. "You had to fear every single man you saw in the streets."
So Sebti left his home and came to America to begin his graduate studies at Saint Joseph's University.
After graduating in May, Sebti hopes to work for a New York City or Washington, D.C.-based non-profit organization that deals with Iraq, especially one that defends the freedom of speech and protects the media, extending to his fellow Iraqi journalists. He hopes to see continued coverage of the Iraqi political situation, but with more objectivity and a special attention to how the war affects the people.
"I think American journalists should concentrate on the human side of the story instead of just covering the surface. The war and the political struggle in Iraq are far from simple and not just a black-or-white vision. It's not just evil trying to dominate the good," Sebti says emphatically. "There is much that Americans are not aware of and it's the journalists' duty to educate the public so they can understand the real story in Iraq."
Contact: Sarah Whelehon, Office of University Communications, 610-660-3226, swheleho@sju.edu.