Thursday, May 24, 2007

The Long Way Back

When I was a child, I always dreamed of going away, traveling to exotic places, having wondrous adventures. I never knew that when I'm going to get older, all I would want to do is go back to where I was.
Everyday It keeps getting farther away, my home, everyday it keeps getting smaller, even the memories are slowly turning into shadows, some time ago I could even remember what my home smelled like, now all what's left a shadowy picture of a broken window and the dust on my bed. I wouldn't even recognize it in the pictures, I don't know if it’s lucky or unfortunate, but I don’t have any pictures left. Just a hazy shadow of things that were, a sit in the garden, my brother’s kids playing, my mother cocking, my dad’s whistle when he came home from work, and the unforgettable and unmistakable smell of his Cuban cigars.
I have always wondered…. Well… not always but since all this happened, what is left to go back to? Is it right to go back to memories? Only shadowy images collected in my brain? I don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong most of the time.. Hell…. I screwed up so many times with so many people and wasted so many chances that I cant even remember when was the last time I was right or did something right. But I only know this… I want to go home.
Where is home? Some would say there is no home anymore, they all say it’s not like before. But you know… homes never change, countries never change… it’s the people that change. But even the people cant change the country, even the most powerful of people cant change the way you feel about your country, because your country, when you were far far away and get back home, you feel this warmth, this sudden change of temperature that you have never experienced before until this day, this feeling if safety that only your country could give you, like the feeling your mother gives you when she hugs after you cry, I can only dream of this feeling.
Who said that our country has changed? Who changed it? And do these people deserve what has happened to them? do Iraqis deserve what happened to them? No humane being deserves to suffer like that, no man should see this pain. I don’t know about people, I don’t know what they had done, I only know that deep down in their souls, deep down underneath all the exteriors, they, just like me, all want to go home.
Its ironic how I wanted to travel as a kid, most people feel the need to change their place of living when they are teenagers of young adults, but then again, I haven’t been your normal child anyway, father. Your other children were better than me, they all looked better than me anyway. They all got my mom’s green eyes and her extraordinary good looks, I got your eyes dad, you short-sighted eyes, your hair, that curl right above my forehead that no barber can ever mend, I got your calm or lest that what mom says, and I got you love of home.
Sometimes I think I got the best genes, but my mistakes always beg to differ, but I guess every one of us wishes that he or she were someone else, or some place else. We all have our dreams, we all day dream about something, we all make mistakes, but we forget and we move on. We forget how we hurt people or how people hurt us, we forget faces and names, and we even forget our homes. I am beginning to forget mine, and I am afraid that the only thing I will take to my grave, the only memory Satan and I are going to talk about in hell, is the death and destruction and chaos that is happening now. The only thing left is one single memory, one single picture of me staring at the river from my window. This is what scares me, not being able to close my eyes and remember, not being able to exhale and smile, not being able to say “for old time's sake” because this sentence doesn't mean anything anymore. What would you do if you just can’t move on and leave everything behind, what can you do if all you want is to go back to the things and life you left behind? What would anybody do if all what they want is to die and be buried in their country? I am afraid that when I die, they wouldn't bury me back home, I am afraid that they wouldn't plant a tree over my grave and let me be one with its roots. I haven't accomplished anything in my life, I haven’t really made a difference, and I don’t think I will anytime soon, all I want, all I need for my life to mean something is to be buried in my soil, and let me give life to something else. That way I won’t really die, I will always live in that tree.
All the people I know want to get out, all the people now want change, and all the people I know want something different... Out, change, and different didn't really work out for me. I want to try the way we were this time, and I want to go back home.
Sometime I will, sometime. Not yet maybe, and not in the near future but something will change. I am not a politician and would never pass as one, but people need to understand what’s best for them. And what’s good for you can surly work for everybody else.
I am telling you, everybody wants to go home. I want to go home… I want to get in my house, go up to my room, light a cigarette, and watch the river from my window, I want to close my eyes and let my old friend the Tigris sweep all my pain away. It’s a promise old river, it’s a promise.

Thursday, May 17, 2007


This heart has no love in it no more; this heart has grown old and weary. This heart has no meaning to it no more; this heart has only blood in it. This heart has no purpose except to keep this cadaver alive. This heart closed it eyes for beauty and kindness and now sees only pain and suffering. Or was it that its eyes were closed for it? This heart sees no color anymore, this heart doesn't recognize passion, this heart doesn't do the things it was created to do, except keeping this cadaver alive. These is no love in this heart anymore, it might as well stop pumping blood.
Of all the things that have become, and all the things that are yet to pass, this heart has no sense. This heart lost its existence in the world. What’s the meaning of material existence if you don’t really exist? If you don’t really feel this existence? If you don’t feel the things and people around you? Because this heart lost all feelings, this heart lost its ability to withstand, to survive. It has grown despondent, solitary, like it has been swallowed by a whale.
Four years I have lived inside this whale’s belly, Jonas stayed for 3 days and cried his eyes out, and I have been here for 4 years. I envy him; at least his had a god to help him? Where is my god? Is he hiding in the green zone too? Is he behind stone walls and concrete blocks? Does he have black water bodyguards? Does he only listen to eloquent sophisticated non-Arabic prayers? I can send him a dictionary, I just need the address.
3500 lives is the cost of this war, nobody counts the unworthy, the not-humans. Some say 50.000 some say a million, but nobody is keeping count. Nobody counts this heart. Nobody cares about this heart. My feelings are limited by my limited vocabulary, but my words are from my aching heart. I am earth, I am from earth, and my words are to earth.
But nobody counts this heart, and many many other hearts like it, hearts that have stopped loving and caring, hearts that even stopped doing its main physiological reason of being, hearts that have stopped beating, stopped pumping blood to bodies, bodies turned to cadavers, humans turned into worm food, even worms don’t like the taste of the unworthy. Who can blame them? dogs are being taken care of more than the unworthy, dogs are more cared for than the unworthy, they know how much they spend on dogs, but do they know how many unworthy they have killed?
4 million displaced, and there is no problem, why? Because they are the unworthy. What would they think if 15 million people of their country were displaced? Probably wouldn't care because most of them would be poor, the unworthy again. Hail Katrina.
Hail Caesar. He came, he saw, he conquered the unworthy. Hail Caesar for bringing democracy to the unworthy, they ungrateful. Hail him for ridding the world from the “superfluous”, the “unnecessary”, the unworthy.
This heart makes no sense anymore, it has no sense anymore. It tortures itself for things that happened a long time ago, things that its imagines it going to happen, things it doesn't want to happen but still does. Images of mistakes and misjudgments, images of love and passion, a passion he doest know anymore. It’s like giving a man who suffered amnesia his ID card, it feels familiar but the face and the name doesn't ring any bells. This heart has new friends. Pain and cigarettes are his only best friends, one of them is going to the reason of its demise, and maybe both if it lasted long.
“these young hearts have already become old- and not even old! Only weary” Friedrich Nietzsche.

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

I’ll See You in the Morning Light

Every single time I think to myself that they can’t do more damage, they can’t come up with more stupid ideas, but every single time they prove mo wrong.
America doesn't read history well. You see… America already tried the wall idea in Vietnam, they called it strategic hamlets. They forced the peasants to leave their original villages, confine them all in these strategic hamlets, which is protected by barb weirs, mine fields, bamboo fields, watchtowers, and walls. They wouldn't let the people out except during the day to work in the rice fields, thoroughly frisking them on entering and exiting the area in which they are confined, with 24 hours surveillance, even using helicopters to watch them while they work. They shot every person who tried to cross the barb weir fence. They rationed food and supplies to prevent the people from storing any; they gave everybody a name tag with his or her print on it. This started in July 1962, and phase 2 started in the beginning of 1963. the plan was to build more than 16 thousands hamlets, first in the quite zones, then further in the conflict zones, and last in the freed zones.
This plan backfired, because these peasants became more sympathetic with the Vietcong, because they felt no threat from them.
The pretence for building this wall around Adhmiyah, is to protect the Sunni inhabitants from the continuous attacks from neighboring Shiite neighborhoods, and to prevent retaliations from the Sunnis against these attacks.
Guerrilla warfare revolves around a basic idea that a guerrilla fighter is like a fish in the water, meaning that he swims in his community like a fish does in the water. The counter idea is to drain the water from the fish tank, i.e. to isolate the fighter from his community and surroundings buy using multiple combinations of the stick and carrot strategy, starting with trying to appeal to the locals and ends with mass punishment, mass arrests and mass executions.
This was in Vietnam, and the Americans tried it all in Iraq, but nothing worked. And now they are trying the last option which is to physically separate the fighters from the population by means on concrete walls.
The Americans tried this method in Flluga and Tal A’afar, with no successes also. There was no media focus on these previous attempts, but because Adhmiyah is the in the center of Baghdad as well as media focus, a great attention was to this plan.
This is nonsense; they reached a new record of stupidity. Nobody can be that stupid, nobody. Even George bush is not that stupid. I’m beginning to think that they want it that way, that they want civil war and turmoil in Iraq, that they never want to see Iraq stable. Because… come on, who the hell came up with that plan?
Algeria, Belfast, Vietnam, the west bank, and finally Adhmiyah, they haven’t learned anything from history. They haven’t learned that these walls don’t just separate people, they separate hearts, anger, grudges, suffering will grow behind these walls no matter how noble the purpose was, if noble at all.
And hey… while we are on this subject, our so called “elected prime minister” said that he didn't approve on the plane, but they went ahead with it anyway. It’s either that he has no say in these matters (which is, let’s face it, true) or he is lying (which is nothing new).
Either reason is…. Well… how can I put this? Either reason makes him look like a monkey. I’m thinking of sending him some peanuts.
They say they are going to build walls around other districts in Baghdad. I wonder when what they would look like when they finish them. I wonder how Baghdad is going to look like when they finish them. And I wonder how the walls within our hearts would look like when they finish them. The problem is not the concrete wall, the problem is the walls these walls are going to build in the hearts of Iraqis, the problem is the wounds that can not be healed, and the problem is the ills that can not be mended.
This is far more than just a wall. I am not afraid of the stone in the walls, I am afraid of the stones replacing the place where our hearts is meant to be.
“Thou shalt not kill” is obsolete, the 21st century version is “thou shalt do whatever the hell thou want, and let me go to sleep”
The walls prevent the sun light from shinning of god’s children; the walls within our hearts prevent god’s hand from touching us. It is getting dark in this world, it is getting dark in Iraq, it is getting dark in out hearts.
But the sun is bound to rise, the light wick kick the darkness away. The dark has blackened our eyes that we can’t recognize who’s friend and who’s foe, who brother and who’s enemy. But the sun will shine, and I will see you in the morning light.

Friday, March 30, 2007

The Last Thing

4 years ago, I don’t remember that exact date, but I was around this time, me, my brother and my mother were sitting at home. Listing to the sound of explosions, shaking with everyone of them. I was playing on my PC, I think the game was “Duke Nukem”. My mother and brother were sitting in the other room when they bombed Al-hakimiayh, the building where the Iraqi intelligence used to interrogate people. Our house was 2 blocks from that building, the sound was deafening, I literally flew up in the air, with the PC, for several seconds, then came back to the ground and continued playing like nothing happened. My mother on the other hand, was crying and shouting of fear. We took her to some relatives’ house, and came back home. My brother kept shouting at me and telling me that I’m crazy, emotionless, and his favorite, careless.
Well…. I’d like to think that I’m brave and fearless, but the truth is I am not. Not that I’m a coward, but at that particular moment I felt nothing, absolutely nothing. It all started in the first American led war against Iraqi, or maybe before that when we were children during the Iraq-Iran war. I remember seeing dead bodies of Iranian soldiers on the TV; I used to watch that program everyday.
I though I was immune to that carelessness, apathy, and indifference to other people pain, but lately, as news pf people dying all over the world, especially in my country, piles over piles of bodies, and everyday I feel less and less pain, I am less and less anguished, I am less and less disturbed by those images. I am beginning to be indifferent, and that scares more that anything else in the world. It scares because it takes away from me what makes me humane.
The ability to feel other people’s pain is what made me go on. I am not there, I can’t share your pain physically, I am not in Baghdad, but I can feel what they feel, I can understand, I can relate to them through their pain, I can’t do nothing for them from here, but I least it hurts when someone dies, at least there are some feelings.
The daily sufferings and the daily deaths of hundreds of people just used to make sick. But now…. I’m feeling less and less sick. And I am afraid.
I am afraid of becoming one of those people who just doesn't give a shit what happens, and it scares the living shit out of me. I am afraid that when someone dies I wont feel anything, I am afraid that I have lost my appreciation for life, my respect for death.
I am afraid that one day I would say what the hell, that one day I might even kill someone, not by bullets only but by words. I am afraid, and this scares the living shit out of me.
I am afraid that I’m going to start to put these horrible deaths in some context and not see them for what they really are. to put something into context is to say it can be understood, that it can be explained, that it can be explained away. 200 died today, 300 hundred yesterday, 100 hundred the day before that, etcetera, etcetera. Just to say etcetera is monstrous; it reduces the deaths to mere verbal abbreviations. Is this how I want to understand these crimes? Is this how we want to understand these crimes? Putting them in context? Some people do that, some people do put these crimes in proportion or in context, but my money says they didn't lose any relative or friend in one of these crimes.
They show us pictures, videos, reports, and everything else they could think of, just to make us used to it. At first you feel upset and maybe cry a little, after a while you are just upset, but after a long time (say… 4 years?) the victims cease to be people to you, these dead people are not humane beings who once where alive, they are just dead bodies. And the ones who killed them are not criminals, and the ones who defend and support them are doing it for the right reasons. All it takes is some getting used to, and they can alter our perception on what constitutes a crime, on what a crime really is. Is it a crime that six hundred thousand Iraqis are dead? It’s debatable. But it is a crime that 3000 American soldiers died. American public can not stand the though of caskets flying from Iraq containing their dead sons’ bodies, but they are indifferent about 600,000 Iraqis. They now want to withdraw from Iraq, not because they destroyed the country and failed to establish and form of democracy of freedom, and basically failed to accomplish any of their set goals before the invasion, they want to pull out because 3000 soldiers died.
That kind of humane being I don’t want to be, favoring one humane being over another. Thinking that the lives of some people are more valuable than that of others, and finally not caring how many people die from either side.
I am a humane, and when any humane is lost it’s a personal loss to me. And I want to keep feeling this way, because if I can’t do anything to help, at least I can feel something, at least I can refuse to feel OK about it.
They took my life, my future, my present, my past, my laughs and joys, my tears and sadness, and they came for what matters for me most, my humanity.
I am afraid that I am going to lose the last thing that attaches me to life. I am afraid I am scared that one day I going to say “what the hell?” I am afraid that I won’t be humane anymore.

Monday, February 26, 2007

Far and Away

When I left Baghdad, 4 years ago, I didn't take anything with me, except a suitcase full of memories. Memories I knew I was going to need. Memories that can feed my soul when its hungry, memories that can make me laugh when I am blue, memories that can make me cry, memories that can give me hope, hope that I will once again, no matter how long it takes, go back to where these memories were planted, take their seeds, and plant new ones.
Memories of early childhood, of which nothing is left, except of a mental picture of me holding a football and a hat over my curly blond hair, memories of the first school, the first friends, memories of the first football game, memories of how innocent I was, of how innocent the world was. Memories of the first steps into teenage hood, new friends, new life, accomplishments in school that did not satisfy my parents so I just gave up, a long hair that wont straighten up, growing up, getting close to the lord, watching people speak in strange tongues after a long period of prayer, dressing as a Muppet to cheer up orphans, growing up again. College, new friends, new life again, memories of a long lost love, that tormented both of us more than it made us happy, lies, deceit, breaking up, letting her go, oh those cherry lips and almond eyes still haunt me, oh what would I give to just get a glimpse at those eyes, just to get that look that says “ I know you, I know all of you”, memories of exams, my buddy walking in his sleep, staying up all night just chatting like there was no tomorrow, going to the exam without studying anything and laughing about it, good friends, true friends, memories of the dreams we had for our future, how settled everything was, memories of how each and every one of us didn't know what he was going to do, but it made no difference because we all got each other, an accident, then a trip, the most amazing trip in the history on mankind, of which I have the pictures to prove, the only pictures I have, courtesy of a true friend. Memories of staying behind, meeting new people, believing that it doesn't matter anymore because the end is near, trying convince people that it's not about the man, its about the country, then ….. The END.
The end of what we once knew, and the start of something that I can not understand no matter how hard I tried. I can not understand how the victim becomes a criminal, the criminal gets rewarded, and how they turned it all into politics. Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to tell you that our prime minister has never had sex in his life. He said that Sabrin, the women who his militias raped, did not suffer any injuries, scratched, or wounds in the vaginal area. Those of you who had sex would know that sexual intercourse itself, though forced, does not cause wounds in the vaginal area, except if the victim was a virgin, a claim Sabrin never made.
She is a criminal, they say, she is wanted for several crimes. Why did you let her go then? A prostitute? Does being a prostitute justify getting raped? I don't know about you but that is not a good reason for me, unless you don't think of a prostitute as a humane being.
A criminal, a whore, wanted for many charges. The wolves ate the lamb, and the Shepherd brushed their teeth. Shepherd? Give me a feakin break.
They raped the whole country, what's one more woman? One more child? One more innocent? One more innocence? Our innocence?
Raped? You are not alone Sabrin, they raped all of us. They raped us of our future, our present, our past. They raped the memories we left behind. They raped the humane being inside of me, they want me to become a beast, but I can't. I just can't do it. I just can't forget the humane being, I just can't leave all my memories behind, I just can't leave my innocence behind, I just can't forget my curly blond hair, I just can't be a beast. I just can't.
I just want to be humane; I just want to live as a humane. I just want to see others as humans. I can't bear these inhumane crimes, I just can't understand rape, I can't understand killing, I can't understand how someone could defend the rapists and the murders. I don't understand how they didn't even bother looking into it.
Maybe I should lock myself in my room, and open my empty suitcase that is full of memories. Memories of men, memories of men with honor, Memories of a time when honor meant the world to men. Memories of times when we were brothers, I still remember my brothers, I still love my brothers. But they forgot about me.

Thursday, February 08, 2007

I, Iraq

My memory is not that good nowadays, some friends suggested that I go visit a doctor to check my brain out. I don’t know if am going to the see the doctor or not, I still haven’t decided yet, but I would be much surprised if it turned out that I still have a brain at all, I think –and that’s only me, a crazy person talking- that humane beings consumes their brain during their lifetime on George W. Bush's not-so-green-due- to global-warming world. I am not a scientist, but if you have seen what we have seen since we were little children, I think you might understand what I'm talking about, and I wouldn't be a gibber jabber of a crazy man to you.
The first thing that comes to my mind is something happened 16 years ago, any of you remember Al-Amiryah shelter? More than 200 people died, their only fault is they were afraid of American bombs. Funny thing, I was watching a movie, a documentary of some kind, called the secret. The main theme is according to the law of attraction, what you think most happens to you. For example, if you are afraid of meeting bad people and you spend a lot of time thinking about, you are bound, by the law of attraction, to unconsciously attract these people to you. These people is Amriyah shelter were so afraid of shelter missiles and f-16 fighter bombers that they attracted these missiles to their shelter. Or maybe that’s only one way to put, another was is to say that the Americans thought the Iraqi high command were hiding in that shelter, or maybe you can say that they received some faulty inelegance information (surprise, surprise), or another way is to say that the weren't sure if the information were true or not so they bombed the place anyway. A friend of mine said some funny things the other day," one bullet in your head is enough to kill you, the second one is just to make sure".
They talked a lot about mass graves, crimes against humanity he said. I wish you would give that another thought Mr. President. But it not your fault anyway, not because you are stupid and you say only when they tell you to say, well… you are stupid, anyway, that’s not the point, the point is they didn't tell what really happened there. During the chaotic retreat from Kuwait, your fighters and helicopters killed everything with tow legs they could find walking on the ground. People found the bodies and buried them in mass graves. But then again, that's only one way to put it. The other way is to say that I am crazy Baathist, which I don’t mind at all. After all, I am crazy. Are you going to hang George bush senior for this? Crazy, crazy, crazy, just plain insane.
I am not good with faces or with people anyway. I don’t remember faces and names very well. The funny thing is that I remember many people I do not know, or even have see in my whole life. I remember more than 500,000 people, most of the children less than one year old, who died due the embargo. Don’t tell me its Saddam's fault, because my crazy diminished brain can't accept that. It can not accept that after all that, Mrs. Albright says it wasn't worth it. So the death of 500,000 people wasn't, after all, worth it. And all for what? For non-existent WMDs. Maybe that can't be held against them, because the only knew afterwards. You could say that 13 years is a lot of time, and you could say that the Iraqis kept telling you that they didn't have it, but still you can't hold that against America. The moral of this story is "Kill Now, Ask Questions Later".
Or "Kill people now; think why you killed them later. And if, after a long time, this reason didn't work out for you, just think of something else".
I am biased. I admit that. Because I always talk about America, and what America did to us, and how brutal her crimes were. But I never say anything about me, and how stupid I am, how ignorant and retarded I am, and how futile and idiotic my discussions are, how I don’t know how to debate in a civilized way. I never say that, do I?
God damn me and all the people who are like me. Have you watched me on TV? Yeah, don’t be surprised, I was on TV, I am on TV all the time. I was dead serious, but for some reason, people laugh at me all the time.
I am a member of the Iraqi parliament, and I am the head of it too. I can't agree on laws that matter to my people, but I can agree on laws that matter to me, like my salary and benefits. Sometimes, I say that terrorism comes from Syria. Some other times I say terrorism comes from Iran. Actually it depends on who I am at the particular moment. I leave the parliament on the when they don’t give my money, but I stay when people die every other day. Sometimes I need people to tell not to kill my brothers. What kind of crap is that anyway? Fatwas or religious orders from holy men to tell me that I cant kill my brother, and I if I did, I would go to hell. I don’t even have the common sense to realize that killing anybody is wrong, let alone killing my brother. The only thing that matters to me, the only things that is most important to me is ME, and only ME. When I go to my shaman to ask him about things that matter to me, it turns out that things that matter to me most is Anal sex and marrying more than one women to satisfy me. I debate with my peers over the validity of some kind of marriage that allows me to take as many women as I please without any obligations or consequences. And you say I don’t know how to Debate, HUH, in your face. I rage, demolish, destroy, kill, insult, boycott, threat, and demand explanations over some insulting cartoons, but I do nothing when they are destroying one of my holiest sights. I guess it is no longer my holiest sight; I have replaced it with my penis. I degrade and demean my women; I cover them with cloth from head to toe lest anybody sees them and realize what I had done to them. I kill them if the go against my will, I kill them If I even suspected that they went against my will. I am the Supreme Being; I am gods shadow on earth. My word is that last word, and no other word shall be said after mine. I twist religion to my benefit, when it's OK for me, I fight. When it isn't I don’t. And who says when its OK and when it isn't? Who the hell do you think? Me!!!
I can't get along with my brother when it comes to my country; it's my country, not his. But I can get along with him fine, when it comes to a football (or soccer) match. We laugh together if we win, we cry together if we lose. But when the math ends, when the referee blows his whistle, him and I go back to killing each other.
I need people to teach me everything I know, or every thing I should know, I can't just go and learn it my self. I am too tired to do it. The only thing I could of is what's for lunch today and which one my wives is going to satisfy me tonight.
I call other people monkeys and pigs, just because they don’t believe in what I believe, for I will prevail. I waged wars, I conquer lands, states, continents, but when other people do it, I call them invaders. But my god said I could, their god just doesn't matter.
When I learned democracy, my greatest achievement was a lynching. Yes, I finally learned democracy and humane rights, I finally learned how all people are equal under the law, and my first implication was a lynching. I finally formed a government; I finally elected my representatives, I am finally free from tyranny. And the first thing I do is an act of tyranny and revenge. I am so obsessed with revenge; it is the only thing I know how to do. I don’t know to build, I don’t know how to teach, I don’t know how to serve my kinsmen, I don’t know how to let go, I don’t how read, I don’t know how to do anything, I only know that I should get even with anybody, even with myself.
I kill myself and ask people why are they killing me, I see the wrong in them, but I don’t see the wrong in me. I am a hypocrite.
I.... I... I... I don’t who "I" is. This person is a stranger to me; my own mother doesn't recognize me anymore. My own mother doesn't know me anymore. I am killing my mother, my brother is killing my mother, the stranger is killing my mother, I am killing the stranger, I am killing my brother, my brother is killing me.
Silly me, stupid me, please forgive me.
I apologize if I offended anyone. I have a good excuse anyway, I am losing my mind, remember? I have lost most of my brain, and the rest is just trying to control my bodily functions. I have lost my mind; seriously, I think I am a country. I am torn, hurt, killed, raped, wounded, bleeding, empty, and lost country. This is the craziest thing i have ever said to the day. I am Iraq. I, Iraq.

Friday, February 02, 2007

Najjaf: The Rules Of Engagment

You see … what I don’t really understand… I mean if someone wants to lie, like if one of your parents catches you with a dirty mag, you better come up with something original to cover your butt, the " it's not mine, I'm holding it for a friend" excuse is really obsolete, nobody believes it anymore.
So what I don’t really understand is why America doesn’t hire someone from Hollywood to write stories for the news. Have any of you listened to what they all say about what happened in Najjaf? The Iraqi government spokesperson said they were Shiite but not Shiite, they were highly trained, they had heavy arms and ammunition, the troops found Afghanis with them, they have pictures of the leader with Osama Bin Laden, and the baathists had a hand in all this. What a load of CRAP.
I don’t really understand why when someone lies, especially the Iraqi government, they do it so bad that anybody, I mean anybody, even an imbecile can figure it out.
Now Al-Qaeda id working with the Shiite? And Osama Bin Laden dined and wined with the leader of a Shiite leader? What about what they were filling our heads with all those years about how sunny Muslims hate Shiites, and about all the bombings and cars and mortars and terrorist attacks are the doings of Al-Qaeda against Shiite Iraqis? Highly trained my foot, they didn’t last a day for god's sake. By the way, someone might argue that they stood up against the Iraqi forces, and forced to call for supports from the Americans, but that, in opinion, doesn’t mean that these people were highly trained, it simply means that the Iraqi army is a bunch of cowards, or under-trained and under equipped to say the least.
Seriously people, heavy arms!!! They said that Al-Qaeda people smuggled heavy arms to Najjaf, how in god's name did they do that? Can someone explain?
It’s a heavy load of crap, and they want to feed us this crap, but you know what, I am not eating this. I am not buying your shit anymore.
Remember David Koresh? The ATF and FBI burned the whole church to the ground and said his followers did it, sharpshooters hunted everyone who tried to flee that inferno, even 12-year old children.
Fret not my fellow Iraqis, we not have our own David Koresh. All we have to do now is wait for the documentary "Najjaf: The Rules of Engagement" to see what really went on.

Tuesday, December 19, 2006


I was talking to some friends the other day on the Yahoo messenger, friends I haven’t talked to for a long time; I mean really talk to… I found out something that I did not know was there, my friends have changed, not in a bad way though. They have grown up, most of them are married, many of them have at least one child, they talk about many things that I don’t share with them. That's what struck me; I haven't aged one day passed April 9th 2003. I still tell the same jokes, the same puns, the same memories still linger in my mind. They all have new memories, ones I know nothing about. It's like I am everybody's friend, but I am nobody's best friend. Maybe I wasn’t someone's best friend anyway, but at least I didn’t feel it.
They have all grown passed me, they all adjusted to life as it is, while I'm still crying over a long forgotten past for many people, looking at the pictures of glorious days and crazy nights, trying to find in my heart the remnants of a lost love, fighting to keep the picture of that love alive in my mind, daydreaming of things I don’t have no more, and things that I won't have ever. I am living an alternate life, I am living every life but my real life. I lie to myself to get through the day, thinking that sleep will swallow my nights, trying, without any luck so far, to forget the nightmares.
Oh the nightmares…..
They have all gown up and left me alone, unable to communicate with anybody like I used to do, unable to feel the overflowing emotions of true friendship. They have these emotions still, they show these emotions still, they say whatever they can to demonstrate it, but I just can't feel it anymore, because they have changed, and I am still the same. They have grown up, and I didn't.
Everything has changed around me, not in a good way this time, from bad to worse…. Here…. There…. All the same.
I know people get depressed during the holidays, but what about people who are depressed all the time? Including the holidays? I don’t know where I am anymore, I see the street I'm walking on, I know the streets. But I am not here, they streets reshape to look like the streets I once knew, the buildings disappear, and other buildings appear in their stead, buildings I once knew. I know these streets are not the same, I know these buildings have changed, but I am still the same, and I still see the same.
I lost my train of thoughts; I don’t know what I should say anymore. Perhaps I should say nothing more.
Merry Christmas everyone, and happy new year.

Monday, November 27, 2006

Amongst the dead

What does the dead do? When somebody dies… where does he or she go? When 200 people die at the same time, what do they do? Their bodies lying on the ground, most of them torn, their brains shattered on the sidewalk, a hand there, and arm here, a leg just around the corner. Is that mine? Is that yours? Do they really die? And what does the living do? What do they do when they see the dead? Do they see the dead? They see bodies and body parts, but do they really see the dead?
Because the dead don’t just go, they don't just disappear after they put their bodies 6 feet under, they linger… they are invisible, very few people can see them. Let me elaborate a little. People… walking around in the marketplace, boooooooooom, dead… dead…. Also dead. But are they really dead? They are still here, invisible, unseen… they don't talk, they don't ask questions, they don't wonder where they are or why there are here, because it makes no difference for the dead. They why and what and who is no longer a matter, for what purpose seems a very ridiculous question, to what end is not a matter of interest anymore, because…. This is the end.
These questions only torture the living, not the dead. They linger, they stay, they cease to exist in our world, they exist in a world of there own.
They linger… they wait, they don’t go to a bright place, they don’t the light, they just wait, they walk, just walk. They wait for the other dead… they wait to take their brothers with them, their burned brothers. One boom here, another burned there, it doesn’t matter to them, they are just company. It doesn’t matter for the dead how or why you died, it only matters that you died, you are just new company. They welcome you with empty eyes, and a faint smile. There in no torture, no pain, no agony, no wait, nothing left, all is gone, there is no start, there is no gain, there is no loss, there is nothing, just the wait.
But does the living care? Do they weep? Do they shout in pain? Do they mourn? No…. they kill. They unconsciously know that the dead need company, so they give them company.
They don’t care; they don’t give a fuck. They live for the kill, until they are dead, until it doesn’t matter anymore.
Where do you live? Amongst the living? Amongst the dead? What questions do you ask yourself when go to sleep? What do you think you are when you close your eyes? Can you close your eyes? Can you not dream on the dead? Do you know they are standing right beside you? Do you know that they can see through you? They can see you dreams, they can see what you really think, they can see who you really are even if you don’t know who you really are.
Where are you? Where am I? Am I dead? Am I living? I don’t feel like living, and I can't see the dead. Is there something wrong with my eyes? Is there something wrong with your eyes? Is there something wrong with your ears? Can't you see? Can't you hear? Can't you feel? How can you go on living with all those dead around you? How can you feel joy with all this pain around you? I can't. How much is enough? More then 200 a day is enough for the prime minister to get upset. How much is enough for him to get angry? How much more does he need to actually do something? How much you all need to actually do something? To actually feel something?
I wish I could die and join my brothers, I wish I could die so I can go to those who talk over and over about democracy and humane rights and see what they really are. I wish I could die and see this drunk crazy man, whom you call the leader of the free world, for what he really is.
I wish I could die and go see my father for one last time, I wish I could die and go see my house for one last time, I wish I could die and go see my friends for one last time, I wish I could die and go see Baghdad, my beautiful Baghdad, as it was for one last time, I wish I could die so these tears blurring my vision could go away.
I wish I could be amongst the dead, I wish I could see the dead. That more do you want from me?
It's a comfort to the wretched to have had companions in misery

Thursday, November 23, 2006


my friend Luke, of the olive branch network, asked the Iraqi bloggers some questions. He wanted to know their opinion on different issues regarding the future of Iraq.
I gladly participated in the answering of these questions, some of my Iraqi bloggers freidns did too.
well... Here is the questions:
If you had a chance to direct the Iraqi government, what would be the first 5 steps you would take to begin bringing Iraq towards a better, unified future?

If you had a chance to control US policy in Iraq, including troop levels, what are the first steps you would take towards helping the Iraqi government obtain legitimacy and begin working towards a better, unified future?

IDEALLY, what model of government would you LIKE the Iraqi government to become? (Secular Democracy, Islamic Theocracy, Federalist, Republican)...

WHO do you see as the main obstacles in reaching this ideal model of governance?

What POLICIES do you see as obstacles in reaching this ideal model of governance?

What are the main non-Security related industries you believe need to be repaired // "reconstructed" most urgently?

What are the most urgent non-Security related industries that CAN be repaired // reconstructed using IRAQI LABOR?

Finally, What are some non-Security related suggestions as to how to combat the dangerous level of unemployment experienced across Iraq?
And here is your answers my friend:

1- The first step would be to ban all religious and sectarian parties, the second step would be getting rid of all who came with the occupation, and put them to trial for treason, this step would include following anyone who fled the country and confiscating all their assets. All the terrorists are included in this too, with the exception of the national patriotic resistance. The third step would be forming a national patriotic government and putting Iraqi nationalists into office, the choosing of which would only be based on merit regardless of sectarian, ethnic, or religious belonging. The fourth step would be to restore all Iraqis to their original jobs and annulment on any laws that incriminate thoughts, beliefs, or principles. No individual should be incriminated without hard evidence and beyond any reasonable doubt. The fifth step would national reconciliation, letting go of all the mistakes of the past, starting over and putting whatever happened before behind our backs. The last step in the most important and crucial step in building the Iraqi future. Revenge will get us nowhere to say the least, in fact revenge is one of the reason we are where we are today.

2- I would have to be an American to answer that question. I am an Iraqi, and all that I care about is the interests of my country, this may be contradictory to United States interests. Anyway… after the formation of a national government and restoring the army, they should begin and immediate pull out.

3- A secular republic with a strong center is the ideal form of government for the time being. This type of government should be transitional for a period of 4-5 years, during this period the Iraqi people should educated about democracy and free election and speech. Then election should be held to let the people decide what type of government they want.

4- the mail obstacle is the total ignorance to the true meaning of democracy, and existence of sectarian and religious parties, each of which claim to represent the will of god on earth, which is obviously not true. The will to serve is also non-existent, everybody in only willing to serve their own interests rather than the countries.

5-religious and sectarian division, the though that some part of the Iraqi people should assume power just because they represent the majority of the population is ridiculous. Power and office should be given to those of merit. The fact that the persons in question are shiaa, Sunni, Arab, Kurd, Muslim, or Christians is irrelevant.

6-the basic services (water, electricity…etc.) should be restored immediately, as should the oil industry, which should be monitored closely to prevent and possibility of manipulation and theft.

7-all the above mentioned can be restored by Iraqi hand, we did once in 1990 and we can absolutely do it again.

8-i don’t know exactly how to answer this question, but I think with the security situation getting better, and the formation of a free foreign investment program, which is carefully designed to benefit the Iraqi people first and foremost, the economy would get better and more jobs would be available. Putting in mind that the oil industry should be excluded from this program.