In the wake of a tremendously expensive air assault in a region where news reporting suffers greater restrictions then before, media must now evaluate its role in an ongoing propaganda campaign.

Is this an attempt to cover up all those mysterious civilian casualties recently discovered under questionable circumstances? That wispy TV news report vanished like smoke during this attack and I can't find it online.

Is it an effort to suppress reports that we've spent thousands of lives and nearly three years to the day in a country, only to leave it without infrastructure or peace, as they embark on a lengthy civil war? In a region where the U.S. not only holds air but also ground supremacy the Swarmer raid, according to many broadcasters, appears political.

Is this newest flight of insanity designed to take attantion away from polls or tensions in America, like the march from Mobile to New Orleans by Vietnam Veterans Against War and Cindy Sheehan?

Earlier in this week's offensive, six munitions caches have been uncovered, along with bomb-making equipment and medical supplies, military officials said. More than 30 people are being held following the raids. An official, according to another CNN story, said up to 100 insurgents may be operating in the area, which has a population of about 1,500.

The Pentagon says Operation Swarmer is the largest U.S. military air assault in Iraq since the 2003 U.S.-led invasion. ANY respectable police force regularly rounds up a mere 31 suspects with far less expense than this costly endeavor and Iraq is riddled with "bomb-making equipment" these days.

Friday, March 17, 2006; Posted: 10:07 a.m. EST (15:07 GMT)

Editor's note: One of CNN's Iraqi producers writes about the atmosphere in Iraq three years after March 20, 2003, the start of the U.S.-led invasion that toppled Saddam Hussein. The name of the writer has been withheld due to security concerns.

BAGHDAD, Iraq (CNN) -- Every day when I wake up in the morning, before having breakfast, I call my two married sisters who live in different neighborhoods. I call them for one simple reason: To make sure they're OK.

"We heard some explosions and gunfire yesterday night but we are all fine, how about you?" my older sister asked me the other day over the phone.

I live with my parents in northern Baghdad, in a mixed neighborhood of Sunnis and Shiites. We've lived in this neighborhood for 15 years, side by side, Sunnis, Shiites and some Kurds. Before, we didn't know who was a Sunni, who was a Shiite. Now, it seems it's all we know.

Everyone in my family has a mobile phone. This way we can always be in touch. Always check in with each other. It's essential because nobody can ever predict what's going to happen on any given day in Iraq. When I leave in the morning, I never know if we will all be back at home that night.

To get to work, it takes 15 minutes from my house, but that's on a good day. There is almost always traffic, convoys and checkpoints.

But that isn't the worst part. Instead, the bigger fear is roadside bombs, car bombs and suicide bombs that explode -- many times targeting U.S. and Iraqi forces, but instead killing civilians. And then there are the insurgent attacks on government convoys and drive-by shootings that leave innocent bystanders dead or wounded.

I usually get a ride to work from my younger brother. But on days when I'm worried about attacks, I find my own way. If something happens, I don't want my brother to get hurt. In those cases, I usually take the bus. Not the easiest way to get to work, but the other day it gave me a chance to find out what is going through other Iraqis' minds.
Was it better under Saddam?

As I rode on the bus, most people started out quiet, but within minutes the silence was broken.

"Look! I cannot believe this could happen to us," an old man said pointing his finger at a line of cars that stretched for more than a kilometer outside a gas station -- amazed that an oil-rich country is dealing with an oil crisis for its own people.

"Habibi (my dear), our oil is being stolen by the Americans and the new Iraqi government. What oil are you talking about?" another man replied.

It's not a view shared by most in Iraq, but it is a view that some hold.

Across the aisle, an old woman who sat quietly listening to the exchange in a simple manner brought the debate to an end. "We do not want anything but to live in Iraq safely."

Iraqis often speak of fuel shortages, a lack of electricity, the void in stability, all the things that deeply affect their daily life. Some also speak of the past.

"Life was much better under Saddam," one man said from the back of the bus.
http://www.cnn.com/2006/WORLD/meast/03/17/iraq.main/ http://www.cnn.com/2006/WORLD/meast/03/17/iraq.anniversary/index.html