By Adel Darwish 

Saddam is seldom seen in public in Iraq; yet his presence is felt every looking down from gigantic posters depicting him as mythical hero. 

Saddam is also a chameleon. At the end of an eight year war with Iran claiming near one million Iraq and Iranian lives, Saddam returned to his true colour: A ruthless tyrant. The life of his people meant little, except as numbers in an equation which he always manages to tip in his favour. This phase of settling scores lasted only two years. 

The invasion of Kuwait shape-shifted him into the national populist hero who managed to win the propaganda war, brainwashing masses into believing in the unbelievable. He also erected an image larger than life in the minds of millions of Arabs by steeling the swords and armour of their ancient heroes still alive in the oral tradition of folktales. 

Saddam is the kind of the megalomaniac tyrant whose real strength drives from his enemies weaknesses and who cannot be stopped but by overwhelming force, but this view is not shared by Arab masses. 

His Megalomaniac ideas appeal to Arabs who, having been victimised by their own rulers, escape into the romantic realm of folk tales to search for a hero and martyrdom is a short cut. 

History is an important element of the national psychic in the Arab world. 

The seventh century martyrdom of Al-Hussein the grand son of the founder of Islam Prophet Muhammad near karblla in Southern Iraq is still the foundation of the culture in Iraq. 

It might seems a total madness to a westerner that the Arabs who support Saddam inside and outside Iraq overlook the palaces that he builds (some of his palace complexes are the same size like some small rich gulf Emirate) while the people are starving. They blame America and Britain for the starvation of the Iraqi children, but see the palaces as a mater of national dignity and a larger Arab honour. 

Saddam believes he is wining the battle; his ever-renewable fountain of strength is the martyrdom of his people and it matters less to them that they never volunteered. 

The roots of that belief could be traced into the Arab legends of individual heroes. All were leaders, or tribal chiefs, who enjoyed a lavish life style at a time of extreme poverty that hit the population often because of war that the leaders started over what they declared to be the national honour. 

The martyrdom of the population was part of a great on going festival. There were little in the way of food or clothing but the songs and rhymed narration went on - a modern day equivalent of mass media. 

While US media covers a public debate in Washington, which is moulded around the question: Will we fight until Saddam is eliminated? And if not at what point will we stop? If Saddam wants it fight to the death, no Western Statesman would gamble with the sight of body bags coming home. 

In Iraq, and beyond, there is no public debate; there are only songs for the folk Hero, the modern Zenati Saddam. 

Saddam replaced the traditional Arab heroes who were the core of the rich tradition of popular songs about warriors-heroes far older than Saddam; and Iraqis, unwittingly or not, continue to draw on them in their own glorification's of the Trampler of Kuwait in 1990 and later in defying the great powers of the west. 

The names Saddam is given, al-Sayd (the lord), al-Qaid (the leader) al-Rukn (the 

Cornerstone) and al-Muheeb (the fearful) are straight out of the old epic songs. 

The tradition of singing stories of heroes in the gathering-places of the Middle 

East is as old m the desert, and as common as drinking of coffee or the playing of 

Backgammon. The stories are sometimes subversive, with past events thinly veiling present discontents; but it is only entertain merit, and so the singing storytellers (called al-Rrawis) largely escape censure 

Most of Al-Rawi's tales are never ending stories variation of two legendary heroes Abu Zeid el-Hillaly and Zenati Khalifa. 

Ironically Saddam, in the mind of Admiring Arabs wears the battle colours of each hero, according to the situation. Abu Zeid was a great warrior of Central Arabia who led his people bani Hillal out of their region and as afar as Tunisia to escape famine. Tunisia was then ruled by Zenati, a tyrant who locked himself in his fortified castle and his physical strength, courage and fighting skills were the stuff of the myth. 

The Rawi technique is first to give dozens of reasons justifying Abu Zeid's journey and his occupation of Tunisia- the price of oil is not among them; and then to answer himself by giving, in Zenati's voice as many good reasons to justify Zenati's fierce defence of his land and the high price paid by his people for his stance. 

The café crowd, divided between Zenati and Abu Zeid, pays little attention to the ethical questions. They question neither Abu Zeid's aggression nor Zenati's unsavoury way of beheading his subjects and his little care for their welfare and safety: it is the poetry of the heroic deeds that matter. 

The audience identifies fiercely with one; and if al-Rawi misjudges the sympathy of the house and makes the favourite lose, the listeners may vent their feelings with the café tables and chairs - which explains angry demonstrations in Arab capitals. 

The Arab longing for a hero was intensified both by Ottoman rule and by the colonial presence of Britain and France - now America (which is cited by the controlled Arab media is a new colonial power) is now joined by the old colonial Britain makes a good enemy. But it also embodies a deeper trait in the Arab character: the desire to translate the absolute power of God into that of a father figure, whether of the country or merely of one family. So the stories of heroes are still intently listened to, and storytellers are important. 

Baghdad, be it noted, is riot quite without them. It has the articulate Saddam himself, teller of his own tale- as he is no loner seen in public - which is part of the heroes fight, a particularly handsome newscaster-a pin-tip for Iraqi girls- who delivers the hero's speeches and thoughts and tells the masses of his deeds. An irritating thought for President Clinton, the handsome Peter Jennings could never be trained to do that.