28-05-2025
Where steel meets memory: The timeless world of Iraq's classic cars
Shafaq News/ At dawn in the town of Iskandariyah, the clang of tools echoes through a modest workshop, cutting through the quiet like a heartbeat from the past.
Beneath the soft hum of machinery and the scent of old paint and engine oil, Jaafar Abu Mohammed polishes a curved chrome bumper with the care of a museum conservator—not for display, but for remembrance.
Now 51, Jaafar is Iraq's only known collector of 11 functioning classic cars, each meticulously restored and preserved as a "moving treasure." But for him, they are more than mechanical marvels—they are fragments of national identity.
'These cars are not for sale. They are stories on wheels,' he told Shafaq News. 'Each one witnessed an era that is gone, and each one has a soul.'
What began as a fascination over a decade ago has become an act of cultural preservation. Jaafar has turned his passion into a private mission: salvaging and restoring vintage vehicles that once roamed Iraq's roads in more prosperous times.
Among his most prized pieces is a 1955 Dodge believed to have belonged to King Faisal II, and a 1958 Jaguar he claims is the only one of its kind remaining in Iraq. His collection also includes a rare seven-seater 1948 Dodge, reportedly gifted by King Farouk of Egypt to King Abdulaziz of Saudi Arabia.
All repairs are done by hand—from panel beating and painting to sourcing original accessories, often imported directly from the United States at great cost and effort.
'It takes patience, months of waiting, and dedication,' Jaafar said. 'But it's worth it because I'm saving pieces of our history.'
Though widely admired at national celebrations such as Baghdad Day and Army Day, his work faces major obstacles—chief among them, government inaction. Traffic authorities, in particular, restrict the movement of his vehicles, limiting their participation in public events.
'People want to see their heritage,' he lamented. 'These cars stir beautiful memories, but we get no support. Not from the traffic police, not from any agency. We work with love, but the backing is zero.'
Jaafar has called for official recognition of heritage vehicle restoration as a cultural endeavor worthy of protection and support.
However, his mission is no longer solitary. Jaafar's children have joined him in his preservation efforts, turning the workshop into a multi-generational archive of Iraqi motoring history.
'The first thing they do in the morning is shine the cars,' he said proudly. 'This isn't just a hobby anymore—it's our family's life.'
As Iraq faces economic and political uncertainty, Jaafar Abu Mohammed's workshop stands as an unlikely sanctuary—where steel and memory are shaped together, and where the past refuses to be forgotten.
