Baghdad ? Ultimately, it won’t be the constant threat of violence that drives celebrated ceramics artist Mahir Samarrai out of the place of his birth. When he finally, reluctantly moves out of Baghdad later this year, the cause will be much more mundane.

“To do ceramics, you need to fire the pieces in the kiln for eight hours. Since 2004, we’ve had one or two hours of electricity here each day,” said Samarrai, 57, who said he cannot afford a generator. “So what is the choice?”

Art scene dried up

Baghdad’s once-flourishing community of artists has all but evaporated. Streets formerly lined with galleries are now deserted, and the artists who remain say they have not sold a piece since the U.S.-led invasion. Samarrai and several others estimated that 90 percent of artists who were working in the capital in early 2003 have been killed or fled the country.

This flight could have grave implications for efforts to rebuild, scholars say. As Iraq continues to hemorrhage economic and cultural elites – painters and poets as well as doctors and engineers – many worry about the ramifications of leaving behind a population without a sizable upper class. The fear is especially acute among artists and art historians, who lament the city’s loss of its status as the cultural capital of the Arab world.

“The threat to the culture is at least as devastating for Iraq’s future as the political problems,” said Shayma Ahmed, a professor at Baghdad’s Academy of Fine Arts. “If the artists and the writers leave, who will be here to show what is happening and change the situation?”

At the Hewar Gallery, widely considered the center of what remains of the Baghdad art world, about two dozen artists and friends gather daily, and the question of whether to leave is a constant topic of discussion.

To leave or to stay?

Qasim Sabti, 54, Hewar’s gregarious owner, knows the debate well. A renowned painter and collage artist, he has held exhibitions in New York and Paris and fielded many invitations to teach abroad. He has rejected every one and says he will continue to reject them “as long as I live.”

In Baghdad, he cannot sell his work or buy materials. He trusts almost nobody and, though he says he hates violence, never goes anywhere without his revolver. He hated Saddam Hussein but his quality of life has deteriorated steadily since Saddam was overthrown, he said.

Under Saddam, cultural events were subject to censorship, and public displays seen as subversive were punishable by a prison sentence or death. But half a dozen artists said that as long as they kept a relatively low profile, they worked without much fear. Now, they said, they are afraid to leave their homes or to tell anyone about their work for fear it will anger a cleric or an insurgent.

“The other artists in the world are so lucky because they can do their art without trouble,” Sabti said. “But for me, I reject that kind of happiness. I made my decision to remain an Iraqi artist, and so I stay in Iraq.”

Responsibility

Muayad Muhsin, a painter in the city of Hilla who frequently visits the Hewar Gallery, is one of a few artists who are explicit in their artistic criticism of what he calls “America’s soulless might and arrogance.”

Muhsin, 42, became internationally known for a 2006 painting called “Picnic,” which shows then-Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld – considered a chief architect of the war in Iraq – reading a report with his combat boots on an ancient gravestone.

“They kept saying they had reason to come into Iraq, but instead of finding weapons, they found a civilization with birds of knowledge and peace,” said Muhsin who, has turned down opportunities to leave Iraq, saying that moving away would be giving in to the insurgents.

“War destroys art, but I have a responsibility to be here in my country,” he said. “When the war happened, they wanted to continue life as if nothing changed, but it did change.”

Iraq without artists

Samarrai said he initially was angry at his friends who left. Now the ceramist, faced with an inability to create the art he believes is his life’s calling, will move to Sulaymaniyah in Iraq’s relatively safe, semiautonomous Kurdish region, in the next several months.

He fears few artists will remain in Iraq within a few years. The artists who are moving are not being replaced by a sizable younger generation.

“I have taught at the academy for many years,” he said. “It used to be that I would teach 60 students a year. This year just three students graduated in ceramics. Can you imagine?”

Sabti, the Hewar Gallery owner, said he once believed the looting of the Academy of Fine Arts and the city’s main art museum to be the low point for Iraqi artists. Now, he says, so many artists have left that he is afraid Iraq will not recover from the cultural vacuum within his lifetime.

“A country needs its politicians and its doctors, yes, but it also needs artists to create the culture,” he said. “Without artists, it is just as bad as it would be without a president.”