Saddam sculptures ready for pickup, but no buyers

BAGHDAD, Iraq -- Behind one metal door in Baghdad's industrial sector, an imposing line of generals stands ramrod-straight, guarding their commander.

And there he is, looming right behind them -- Saddam Hussein, the dust-covered statue in chief, the sculpture that no one wants.

For an entire generation, casting statues of Saddam was a recession-proof industry. Now, it's about as dead-end a job as they come.

The nameless sculpture factory is one of several owned by the Iraqi ministry of culture -- and a place where few artists have come back to work since the war.

"They are afraid that people will consider them part of the regime and try to kill them," said Farid Hussein, one of 62 sculptors at the studio, whose work was commissioned solely by the former regime.

The largest statue, commissioned months ago, is a towering 16 1/2-foot whitewashed image of the ousted president in military dress, chin up, unsmiling and brandishing a pistol.

It was going to be displayed in a Baghdad square, much like another Saddam statue so forcefully and famously toppled April 9 in Paradise Square. But this sculpture remains in a studio shed.

An artist left it there two months ago after arguing with the Presidential Palace over the price.

"It was worth $1 million, now it's worth nothing," Hussein said.

He would like to keep the sculpture, but he plans to destroy it. Better him than the looters, he figures.

"It's so sad that they've destroyed all the statues. This is art," Hussein said. "We should have put them all in a museum."

Twice since the government fell, thieves have been through the studio sheds, stealing art supplies and overturning some statues that were supposed to have been picked up the week the war began.

"We're thinking of giving them to the soldiers' families," Hussein said.

On Monday, workers began moving some of the statues indoors and bought new locks to keep looters out.

The studio, which looks more like a cement factory, has been Hussein's livelihood for 30 of his 44 years. Hired at 14 to mix plaster and lug 20-pound bags of cement, Hussein worked his way up. Though he's molded many Saddam statues in his time, he really prefers casting fountains.

Walking among the figures, he points out the names of the generals.

"This one's Saddam's cousin," he said.

The generals stood stoically, medals on their chest, cast in black concrete that contrasts with the white used for Saddam.

Things look bleak for the factory, but Hussein isn't worried. After all, it's a whole new era with U.S. civilian administrator L. Paul Bremer in town.

"Everywhere in the world, from ancient times until now, rulers have always loved statues of themselves," Hussein said. "Maybe ... we'll be making a statue of Bremer soon."