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Something Iraq Will Never Lose
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By
Felicity Arbuthnot**
Freelance Journalist - London
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May
5, 2005
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A
scene from the devastation inflicted on Baghdad |
It's
been two years since the illegal invasion, the destruction of
humanity's history, the subsequent slaughters, and the attempt to
dehumanize Iraqis, the people of Mesopotamia who brought the world
all that we call civilized. A people whose deaths, in the words of
the inimitable Major General Mark Kimmitt, are not productive to
count. When asked about media coverage of US carnage in the cradle
of civilization, General Kimmitt's response was "change the
channel."
For
those of us unable to "change the channel," the horrors of
Iraq's suffering under embargo and occupation and the literal
and cultural rape of a nation from Mosul to Basra in the name of the
lie of “liberation” will forever haunt. "History will
judge," said Britain's Prime Minister Blair, President Bush's
bag carrier in his "crusade." History will indeed judge.
The words of Denis Halliday—the former UN Assistant Secretary
General and UN Coordinator in Iraq who resigned in disgust at the
“genocide” of the embargo—come to mind: "History will
slaughter those responsible," he said of the sanctions. Such a
"slaughter" equally, eloquently, applies to America's
temporary coup, which is the abduction of a sovereign government
whose status was guaranteed by the UN, in the "land between two
rivers."
It
is two years since Iraq's Year Zero.
The
lies, misleading, and ignorance in high places which led to this
historic cultural and human holocaust are outside the scope of an
article, but many books will bear witness at the grave where truth
lies. As Alexander and Patrick Cockburn point out in their revealing
book, "Saddam Hussein, an American Obsession," in 1991,
not a single US official involved in policy making or consultation
over Iraq had ever set foot in the country. Exactly the same applied
in 2003. Neither Britain nor the United States had had an embassy in
Iraq since August 1990; rather, they relied on duplicitous
defectors, all with their own agendas, and middle aged Iraqis who
had left the country as children.
The
literal and cultural rape of a nation in the lie of
“liberation” will forever haunt. |
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Little
has changed. British and American policy makers squat in Iraq's
great state buildings—an illegal takeover under the Geneva
Convention. They are helicoptered in and out, and they have no clue
as to what conditions Iraqis live in, or how they think. Ignorance
is so total that it was only little over a month ago that a policy
was broadly adopted to employ Iraqi interpreters, rather than
American-born Arabs, since "Iraqis recognize dialects from the
region and can tell if someone is of a different nationality or
region in Iraq." This astonishing bit of finally-acquired
knowledge is presumably accompanied by another total ignorance: The
assumption that if someone comes from somewhere else, he is
automatically a "terrorist."
The
tragic folly of Iraq, though, is a litany of ignorance of a
"far away place" of which Washington knows nothing. Days
before the invasion, newspapers were awash with Ahmed Chalabi's
assurances that the “crusaders” would be greeted with flowers
and sweets. These certainties from a man who should be serving a
lengthy jail term in Jordan for embezzlement would be taken by
inhabitants of planet earth with a hefty pinch of salt; not
apparently in Washington or Whitehall.
The
thought that perhaps the representatives of the governments
responsible for thirteen years of grinding sanctions, misery and
humiliation might not receive a hero's welcome appears to have
escaped policy makers.
On
the day of the invasion, a respected politician with a deep love for
and knowledge of the Middle East telephoned me, appalled. "Are
you aware," he asked, "that the British tanks and vehicles
have entered Iraq flying the St George's flag—the Crusaders
flag?" I drew breath in double horror; the invasion had begun
and it WAS a crusade. I thought of the Iraqi refrain over the
thirteen years of sanctions that I heard again and again in Iraq:
"Nothing so terrible has happened to us since the
Crusades..."
The
British, as we are told endlessly, are more subtle than the
Americans; they gained "experience in Belfast"—the
running sore on Britain caused by Winston Churchill's division of
Ireland. The line on the granite was drawn almost at the same time
that Britain's Sir Percy Cox drew “the line in the sand” in
southern Iraq, changing the region's geography before further
colonial meddling. What this “experience in Belfast,”
approaching four decades of grief and mayhem, has to do with
Basra—a cultural world away—is perhaps just unfolding.
I
wonder if the British and American soldiers in Basra—torturers and
non torturers alike—are aware of that battered, beautiful city's
suffering. "If there was a war between France and Germany,
Basra would be bombed" is a wry saying in Basra.
Until
it was looted at the time of the invasion, there was a museum in
Basra, commemorating the dead of the eight-year Iran-Iraq war. On
the walls, you were hundreds upon hundreds of identity cards with
names, photos, addresses, and ages—the lost loves, lives, and
dreams of another Western-fuelled conflict. A ten-year-old civil
defense volunteer (almost all the men had been sent to fight),
killed trying to rescue the injured. A young doctor with great, warm
eyes, looks out from a fading photograph, with his bloodied shirt
laid in the glass case below.
Have
any of the modern-day barbarians who have destroyed Iraq's
wonders—
Babylon, Kufa, Najav, Karbala, Samarra and the 1,155-year-old golden Malwiya
minaret that survived the Mongols, but not this illegal
onslaught—pondered at all? Did they gaze, even momentarily, in
awed wonder, at the great ziggurat of Ur, believed to be Abraham's
birth place, before spraying it with graffiti? Before erecting a
base over unexcavated archeological sites which were incalculably
ancient before Christ and the Prophet Mohammed, peace and blessings
be upon them, walked in this region?
Did
they examine in wonder the hundred mosques, their great golden and
turquoise domes glinting in the sun, before they went on their
rampage in Fallujah with equal disregard for humanity and history?
Does the great mosque in Mosul, where the Prophet Jonah is believed
to be buried, still stand unsullied? Does the monastery where Saint
Matthew is believed to lie still stand on the mountaintop?
We
are told many soldiers pray before operations. As they read their
bibles, did any of them reflect on the verse from the Book of
Revelations that describes Babylon before it was laid to waste for a
second time: "By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down ...
We hanged out harps upon the willows in the midst thereof..."?
Standing on my balcony before the invasion, I knew I would never see Baghdad like this again. |
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The
answer to the above is almost certainly that these world's wonders,
as the manuscripts, the museums, were wasted on the world's most
powerful army and its unwilling "coalition." Recently, a
colleague who has lived for many years in the Middle East spent an
"embedded" period with the US Army in Iraq. On a Friday
morning, the unit he was with decided to raid a home on a tip off
regarding an "insurgent." As they set off, the call to
prayer rang across the area. The senior officer remarked he hated
the sound which brings peace to the heart of believers and non-
believers who travel the Middle East. Determined not to be drawn, my
friend said mildly "Well, remember, it is the Sabbath."
"What do you mean it is the Sabbath," was the reply,
"it's Friday." "How long have you been her?"
"Two years," said the officer. Oh, and the home which was
virtually destroyed? "Wrong house, wrong information."
On
April 9th, 2003, I went to see a friend, a former Professor at the
University of Mosul. Usually a cool, clear-headed thinker, always on
the move, she was sitting frantically flipping through the
television channels, watching the destruction of her land. Suddenly
Mosul was shown, the looting of the museum, the university, the
carnage, the chaos. "No, oh no, my town, my home, my
university..." She was inconsolable in her helplessness and
grief. As the American flag was draped over the face of Saddam
Hussein's statue before it was torn down, she was physically
sick—not because she was pro the regime, but because it
represented the beginning of the destruction by Iraq's very
sovereignty by invaders, the stripping of modern and ancient
history, and the lack of any cultural sensitivity or understanding.
I
thought of standing on my hotel balcony a short time before,
shooting roll after roll of film as the reflection of Baghdad's
azure and peach dawn shimmered in the Tigris, knowing I would never
see Baghdad like this again - then being consoled in the lobby by
the proprietor as the tears ran down my face on the eve of war.
"Don't worry, Madam Felicity, don't be upset, we will be
alright, we will be alright..."
In
Amman, Sattar, the engineer-turned-driver during the embargo years,
looked at me, for once speechless. We knew, and there were no words.
In the years coming into Iraq from Amman, we would slap palms
together when we hit the signs which read Fallujah, Damascus, and
"Baghdad Central," after 1,200 grinding kilometers. So
far, Damascus still stands.
But
for all the horrors, illegality, and destruction, and the shame on
the invaders, shared collectively by so many, there is something
Iraq will never lose, as expressed hauntingly by Paul William
Rogers, who writes that in Baghdad, he sees
The
old people with resignation stamped across their foreheads, who
can't go on yet will go on; the young married couples who still
hope for a better life yet don't hope too hard lest it break
their hearts, the countless unremembered acts of kindness and of
love that fill desolate days, and I realize I would far prefer
to be here than in any house where this war is justified. For it
cannot be justified.
But
this region has always led to somewhere worth going. Baghdad is
just as glorious in its ruin as it was in its glory, for
something noble crawls from the rubble to spread golden wings in
the light of dawn. The Gate of God opens wider.
**Felicity
Arbuthno is a journalist and activist who has visited Iraq on
numerous occasions since the 1991Gulf War. She has written and
broadcast widely on Iraq, her coverage of which was nominated for
several awards. She was also Senior Researcher for John
Pilger’s award-winning documentary Paying the Price – Killing
the Children of Iraq.
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