BAGHDAD — Hours after his release from prison, the Iraqi journalist who hurled his shoes at former President George W. Bush said Tuesday that he had been tortured while in jail.
Muntader al-Zaidi was held by his sister after his release from an Iraqi prison Tuesday. He had been held for nine months for throwing shoes at President George W. Bush in an act of protest.
Muntader al-Zaidi, who spent nine months in jail for hurling his shoes at President George W. Bush, addressed reporters in Baghdad on Tuesday.
Not long after that, family members said, he fled the country in fear for his life.
“Here I am free, and my country is still captured,” said the journalist, Muntader al-Zaidi, during a news conference Tuesday at the television station where he had worked.
He said that he was beaten with pipes and steel cables, and that he received electric shocks while in custody. He added that there were many who would like to see him dead, including members of unidentified American intelligence agencies. Mr. Zaidi did not take questions after his brief remarks.
His brother Uday said that Mr. Zaidi flew to Greece, where he would receive medical and psychological care. Part of the reason he fears for his life, his brother said, is that he plans to identify the people who played a role in his mistreatment, including high-ranking security officials.
Mr. Zaidi said that after he was arrested after hurling his shoes at Mr. Bush at a December news conference, he was shackled, soaked in water and kept in an unheated place in the cold night.
Ali al-Mosawi, an adviser to Prime Minister Nuri Kamal al-Maliki, said that the accusations should be viewed skeptically, because Mr. Zaidi had just been released from prison. He did not address the specific charges.
In a room packed with reporters and family members, Mr. Zaidi described the anger and helplessness he experienced after the American invasion in 2003, the suffering of widows and orphans he witnessed and why he felt compelled to wage a protest.
“I saw the chance and I seized it,” he said. “If those who blamed me knew how many destroyed houses I walked over with those shoes that I threw, and how many times those shoes mixed with the blood of the innocent, and how many times those shoes went into homes where the honor of those who lived there was disgraced, then it was probably the proper response.”
Security was tight around the television studio where Mr. Zaidi spoke, with dozens of police officers and other armed escorts cordoning off much of the neighborhood. On the streets, supporters banged drums, chanted his name and slaughtered sheep in his honor. Inside, family members wept with joy, even though they knew that Mr. Zaidi might not be able to return to Iraq in the near future.
The Iraqi government, which was acutely embarrassed by the shoe-throwing episode, played down Mr. Zaidi’s release, barring the family from meeting him at the prison gates and quietly escorting him to his family’s residence in the capital. Given Mr. Zaidi’s cult hero status, his charges that he was mistreated could resonate widely.
Mr. Zaidi, 30, was originally sentenced to three years in prison, but this spring that was reduced to a one-year jail term. He was released after nine months for good behavior, court officials said.
Mr. Zaidi worked for an independent Iraqi television station, Al Baghdadiya, when he attended the news conference with Mr. Bush on the president’s final visit to Iraq during his administration.
As members of the White House press corps and other Iraqi journalists looked on, Mr. Zaidi rose from his seat and shouted in Arabic, “This is a gift from the Iraqis; this is the farewell kiss, you dog!”
He then whipped one of his shoes straight at Mr. Bush’s head, narrowly missing the president as he ducked.
Before anyone could react, Mr. Zaidi, only 12 feet from Mr. Bush, had his other shoe in hand and shouted once again, “This is from the widows, the orphans and those who were killed in Iraq!”
Mr. Maliki, standing at a lectern next to Mr. Bush, stuck a hand in front of the president’s face to help shield him and, once again, Mr. Bush ducked and was not struck.
Mr. Zaidi was then wrestled to the ground and hustled out of the room.
On Tuesday, he said he was severely beaten by Iraqi security officers even as the news conference continued inside.
Mr. Bush first joked that he could report that the shoe was a size 10. Then he played down the episode, saying it was a sign of democracy.
“That’s what people do in a free society, draw attention to themselves,” he said.
Mr. Zaidi described what happened over the next few hours. “At the time the prime minister went on a satellite television station, saying that he did not go to sleep until he made sure that I found a comfortable bed and a cover, at the very same moment he was talking, I was being tortured,” he said. He added that his treatment in custody included “electric shocks and being beaten by electric cables and steel rods.”
At his news conference, Mr. Zaidi offered no proof and looked in fine physical condition, but he was missing a front tooth.
The episode, which was shown repeatedly on television programs around the globe, seemed to crystallize for many the deep anger felt toward the United States over its invasion and occupation of Iraq.
From Libya, where he was awarded a Medal of Freedom, to Syria, where banners of praise were unfurled on street corners and his photo was shown on state television, Mr. Zaidi has been lionized.
There was even an offer from a wealthy Saudi to buy one of the shoes for $10 million. It is unclear where the shoes actually are at the moment, but an Iraqi security official said he believed that they were still held by the government.
Mr. Maliki initially said that he believed Mr. Zaidi had been put up to the act by a “head cutter,” apparently alluding to Sunni insurgents tied to Al Qaeda in Mesopotamia, who frequently behead their enemies.
Mr. Zaidi said that he had no ties to political groups and acted purely out of rage at what the American occupation had cost Iraq.
Even after nine months in jail, Mr. Zaidi did not back down from his denunciation of Mr. Bush and the war.
“I was roaming throughout the past years of the war in our scorched land and I was seeing with my own eyes the pains of the victims and hearing the weeping of the grieving women and orphans,” he said. “Shame was chasing me, like an ugly name for my helplessness.”
Through clenched teeth, he promised himself that if the chance came he would avenge those victims.
“The chance came,” he said. “And I did not miss it. “
