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Jo
Wilding, here with an Iraqi boy, and Julia have made a
chilling video report of their journey through occupied
Iraq. |
A
Letter to the Prime Minister is a film made by Julia Guest of Jo
Wilding’s experiences in
Iraq
. In spring 2003, just before the coalition forces went into
Iraq
, Jo, a long-standing campaigner and activist, set out with Julia
Guest in order to take eyewitness accounts of any violation of human
rights that are in breach of the Geneva Convention. Jo is energetic,
irreverent, and passionate in her work. The film shows her traveling
to
Baghdad
via Jordon. In
Baghdad
, she is struck by how everybody seems to be continuing their lives as
normal, but on closer inspection, it becomes apparent that they are
storing up essentials in preparation for the bombardment. At least 60%
of the population is dependent on government food rations, which will
not be distributed during the war. Jo reminds us that the British
legal system is based upon that of ancient
Sumer
,
Iraq
.
First
of all, she is called to meet Dr Huda Amash, a member of the Ba’ath
Party and who was later arrested and dubbed “Chemical Sally.” Dr
Amash does not seem to have a lot to say except that the government
must do its best to protect the Iraqi people. She is now being held in
detention and has yet to be tried.
Jo
then joins a protest by students, which goes from the Palestine Hotel
up to the UN quarters. Here, the students shout that they will fight
for Saddam Hussein with their blood, but Jo notes that this is more of
a rejection of
US
rule than any actual endorsement of Saddam. She then heads out to
visit an American woman called Faith, who is an anti-war campaigner
living with a community, 3000 of whom are employees at the local oil
refinery. Faith is in tears at the thought of this community being
bombed. Jo informs us that Faith is now languishing in a
US
jail, having been arrested for her anti-war activities.
Under
the 4th Geneva Convention, it is prohibited to attack civilian
populations or resources that are essential to the survival of the
population. What follows is an eye-witness account of how this
convention has been flagrantly violated, and violated with impunity,
by coalition forces. The bombing begins, and civilian lives are taken.
The Ashad market place: twenty people killed, including children, the
victims of cluster bombs; there is no military target near by. Houses
are blown to rubble. One boy’s mother and seven sisters are killed.
Next, a village; there is a possible military target three kilometers
away. Obviously, coalition forces are using maps drawn up by Mickey
Mouse, or perhaps they are not using maps at all: they just bomb
whatever happens to be there.
The
following scene is harrowing. The Al-Jabouri family, members of this
village community, have been virtually wiped out. Jo visits them in
the hospital. Six of Mrs. Al-Jabouri’s seven children have been
blown to bits. She says, “Al-hamdu lillah, al-hamdu lillah.” Why?
Because one daughter survived! We see that daughter, head wrapped in a
bloody bandage, eye blown out, face half melted. She cries, “Why?
Why did they do this to me, mamma? My head hurts.” Mrs. Al-Jabouri
says, “Why? Why did they do this to us? What did we do to hurt
Bush?”
Another
member of the family, a young man, is utterly distraught because his
bride of one week has been killed by falling bricks. He doesn’t know
whether to sit or to stand. In the end, he falls to his knees on the
hospital floor, crying. Jo goes back to what was once the family house
and finds the wedding invitation in the rubble. A neighbor holds up a
singed page of the Qur’an, “This is our holy book.”
Some
months later, Jo goes back to see if the Al-Jabouri family have
received any help or compensation. They have received nothing, and no
one has been to ask about them apart from her. Things have changed
since the overthrow of Saddam. Now militias are out on the loose. The
family is extremely nervous about talking to her, fearing that they
will be accused of being informers. Jo has to leave, since she is
putting them in danger.
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Jo
dresses up as a clown to entertain Iraqi children to lighten
up their gunshot-ridden daily lives.
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Next,
she heads to
Sadr
City
, which, she says wryly, is called “the black zone” by the
coalition forces. The rest of
Baghdad
is called “the red zone” and the heavily guarded
US
area is called “the green zone.” Wanting to provide some brief,
light relief for the traumatized children, Jo and her traveling
companions set up a circus to be performed at a school. All the
children gather together, laughing and clapping. Jo tells us that just
two weeks later, they and their families suffered bombing and sniper
fire.
She
visits a refugee camp called Al-Shuwala (the flame). This is a dry,
dusty bit of no-man’s land, which for a long time could not afford
drainage, leading to dangerously unhygienic conditions. The British
forces decided to leave the militias “in charge” of this camp.
Camp members appealed, but to no avail. In effect, these people have
been left to pick up the pieces with their own meager resources. Now,
at last, a drainage system is being built, funded by the camp’s 125
families and some donations from
Britain
. No sign of Halliburton here. Jo goes to pay her respects to the
camp’s leaders, something, they say, that US forces failed to do,
causing great offence. She also seems to be aware of the etiquette of
not shaking hands with men.
Spring
2004. It is `Ashura’ and Jo is heading towards Fallujah to take
medical supplies in and also to bring anybody out who needs to go to
hospital back in
Baghdad
. She travels in a bus with some Iraqis who have told her that her
European face will ensure that the supplies get through the checkpoint
that US forces have set up. The roads on the way to Fallujah are
empty. All around is just desert, but as the bus heads closer to
Fallujah there are signs that lorries carrying goods having been
ambushed and looting is going on here and there. The bus arrives at
the
US
checkpoint and, sure enough, as the Iraqis predicted, Jo’s white
face ensures that it is allowed to pass through.
US
forces are preventing all men under the age of 45 from leaving
Fallujah. It is in Fallujah that US soldiers took over a school and
protestors gathered to get them out.
US
forces shot dead 17 of them. Jo meets an ambulance driver whose
ambulance was shot at from all sides, including the front window, after
it had been cleared at the checkpoint.
US
forces have taken over a hospital, forcing doctors to set up ad hoc
“day clinics,” which are not equipped to deal with anyone
seriously wounded and which have no electricity. Residents tell of how
the
US
forces called a ceasefire at 12 noon, so that people could go out
shopping, but once they were out, they were shot at and killed. Jo
visits a mosque where 16 corpses are laid out. The bus manages to
transport a few of the wounded back to
Baghdad
. Bodies covered in cuts and burns are carried into the hospital, some
do not survive the journey.
Jo
visits again after the entire Fallujah population has been evacuated.
They are now living in Red Crescent tents in the dry, dusty desert and
with absolutely nothing. The camera hones in on a young girl
attempting to bang in a tent peg, her hair blowing in the dust-laden
wind.
I
have long had a question in my mind: The coalition argues that without
its forces, Saddam would have remained in power; how could one answer
such an assertion? My question is answered by some people in the film.
They say that if they had not been so weakened by sanctions, they
could have overthrown Saddam themselves. The sanctions, in fact, kept
Saddam in power. People’s entire energy was consumed in trying to
survive. Meanwhile, children die from malnutrition and basic medical
requirements are not allowed to get through to them. Remember that
Madeleine Albright once said 500,000 lives were “a price worth
paying.”
After
the film, there was a question and answer session. It was clear just
how angry the audience was, although apart from me, there was only one
other woman wearing hijab. Professor Eric Herring, from the
University
of
Bristol
, who has set up the Network of Activist Scholars, corrected some of
the “facts” often heard in the Western news. He says that in fact,
85% of the civilian deaths in
Iraq
have been caused by the coalition forces. Car bombs detonated by
insurgents account for only a minority of the deaths. Polls reveal
that 80% of Iraqis in the south see the coalition presence as an
occupation and 50,000 have died through aerial bombardments and the
collapse of the health services. Iraqis are saying that conditions are
the worst that have ever been during the last twenty-five years. The
US
forces, in a desperate attempt to contain the devastation, are trying
to take control of the militia groups.
Activists
in
Britain
are now campaigning to prevent the wholesale privatization of
Iraq
. The coalition government issued a law prohibiting Iraqi farmers from
planting their own seeds. Guess who they have to buy it from?
Monsanto, of course. What is more disgusting, however, is that the
current rulers of the land of the Prophet have produced a bill for 28
billion dollars, which they want the Iraqis to pay. As one Iraqi man
in the audience said, “How are 16 million Iraqis going to pay 28
billion dollars?”
Before
we all sink into the depths of despondency, however, it is worth
remembering that we can do something, and that people are working hard
to change the situation. John Pilger advised targeting the media,
which is easier said than done, matey, since it is extremely selective
in what it chooses to print. Really, we need to set up a paper that
tells the truth. The coalition must not be allowed to brush
Iraq
under the carpet.
In
the run-up to the
UK
election, Tony Blair said, “
Iraq
has happened. Let’s move on.” In the light of the utter carnage
that has been wreaked by coalition forces and the complete chaos
unleashed, endangering the lives of thousands of Iraqis, leaving them
at the mercy of militias, with no electricity, sanitation, food, or
medical supplies, and homes blown to smithereens, such a statement is
utterly astonishing. The sign of a true leader is his humanity, and
Tony Blair is clearly lacking in this department.
*
Following are some Web addresses to contact:
**
Aisha R. Masterton holds a BA in Japanese language and
literature and an MA in Comparative East Asian and African Literature
from the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS) in London. She
is currently working on a PhD on Islamic mystical and philosophical
influences in West African literature. You can contact her at ahabrasul@yahoo.co.uk.
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