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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
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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.
