A Visit to the Victory Arch in Baghdad: A Day at an Iconic Monument of Iraq’s History

The day we visited the Victory Arch in Baghdad, it felt like stepping into history—a history layered with conflict, triumph, and propaganda. Officially known as the Hands of Victory or Swords of Qādisiyyah, the monument is one of the most recognizable symbols of Saddam Hussein’s regime. Built in 1989, it was erected to commemorate Iraq’s claimed victory over Iran in the brutal Iran-Iraq War, which lasted from 1980 to 1988. The monument, towering over the parade grounds, features two enormous bronze hands emerging from the ground, each gripping a sword, and these swords cross to form arches. Beneath the arch, scattered on the ground, are thousands of enemy helmets, a stark reminder of the lives lost in battle.

As we walked around the area, the sheer scale of the monument was overwhelming. The hands and swords were made to resemble Saddam Hussein's own hands, further cementing the idea of his personal connection to the victories of his regime. Standing there, taking it all in, was surreal. The Victory Arch symbolized both the pride of Saddam’s regime and the devastating costs of war. Seeing the piles of helmets underfoot was a stark reminder of the brutal history the monument represented—one built on sacrifice and bloodshed.

By the time we visited the site, the monument’s significance had shifted. The regime that had constructed it had fallen in 2003, and we were standing in a place that, in many ways, marked both the end of an era and the beginning of a new, uncertain one for Iraq. In the early days of the Iraq War, this location, which was once the pride of Saddam’s military, had become a focal point for the coalition’s entry into Baghdad. The area surrounding the arch, including Firdos Square, became ground zero for the symbolic toppling of Saddam Hussein’s government.

In the first days of the war, Baghdad saw intense fighting, and as coalition forces pushed into the city, the arch was one of the landmarks that soldiers passed by on their way to securing the city. The site, which had once been a place for military parades to showcase Saddam’s strength, was now part of the coalition’s mission to dismantle his regime. The Victory Arch, which once served as a symbol of Saddam’s perceived invincibility, now stood as a reminder of the fragility of power.

Our visit to the Victory Arch wasn’t just about seeing a monument—it was about recognizing the historical weight of where we stood. As soldiers, being there meant something profound. We weren’t just tourists visiting a historical site; we were part of the story of that place. The arch represented both the past we were tasked with helping to change and the complex legacy of the wars Iraq had endured.

The Victory Arch had witnessed parades of triumph, brutal battles, and now, it stood in a city that was slowly transitioning out of dictatorship and into a new era. Standing there, I reflected on the contrast between the monument’s original purpose and what it had come to symbolize post-invasion. The hands of Saddam, once raised in defiance and power, now seemed to grasp at the remnants of a fallen regime, as a new chapter for Iraq began.

For us, it was more than just a visit to a monument. It was a reminder of the brutal realities of war and the long path ahead in trying to help rebuild a nation that had suffered so much.