Guilt

It was 9 p.m. when my cell phone rang. The screen showed an Iraqi number. My heart stopped for a minute! I was scared because it was about 5 a.m. in Baghdad. I immediately thought something bad happened! It was a second until I answered but it felt like an hour. Million things came into my mind in that second. Who was it? Why they are calling at this time? Something bad happened? Someone might have died?

It was one of my best friends in Iraq. I asked her what happened immediately. Her voice was different. She spoke slowly, sadly, and desperately. “I haven’t even slept, B,” she said. I was speechless! I didn’t know. I was afraid to ask her and get the saddest reply. Eventually I did.

“What happened?”

“There were clashes in my neighborhood since the morning,” she said.

There was nothing new about this, but I why she said that. My heart pounded like a drum. I just didn’t want to hear that someone was hurt.

“No one was hurt. I am scared,” she said. “Armed men and interior ministry commandoes fought each other in our neighborhood all day. You can’t imagine how it was. It was hell.”

“Get the hell out of there,” I said.

“I am supposed to go to Jordan tomorrow but the roads are still closed. I don’t know if I am going to be able to get out of the house tomorrow,” she said.

I was speechless again, heartbroken, and unable to think. Here I am! I was having fun with my other friends here in Washington DC when she called me. Is it fair? No, it’s not! I hated myself at that moment. How could I do that while people I love are suffering? Isn’t this selfish? Yes it is.

My friend Ahmed called me few days ago. He was on the roof of the house trying to find a cell phone signal. The cell phones are ones of things that are deteriorating in Iraq although they arrived shortly after the invasion. He could not call me through the internet because he uses the dial-up service which is rarely functioning as most of the landlines are not working. There is no enough fuel anymore for the generators to run the operators and towers.

Ahmed took the risk and called me at night as I could here the sound of shootings in the background. I told him I would call him the next day. I didn’t want him to die. He insisted. He was laughing hysterically.

“Ahmed! I am not joking. Please go down stairs now. I can call you tomorrow,” I begged him to prevent any stray bullet reach him.

“C’mon! It’s not the first time. Don’t you remember these things?!,” he said.

I didn’t say a word! Yes, I remember. Yes, I recall every hard time I went through with him. Is it just now that I feel it is dangerous? Yes, I remember being caught in crossfire. Yes, I remember how I survived car bombs and rockets explosion. His words triggered the past that is still seizing a huge part of my mind and heart.

“How is everything,” I asked him then thought what a stupid question I asked.

“Thank God! I am still alive,” he said stressing on how staying alive is the only thing people want these days. No other things or aspects of life are needed anymore. They just need to stay alive even if it is with suffering.

He asked about me. I didn’t know what to tell him? Should I tell him I am in Washington DC to have fun? Should I tell him that I saw all the places where our country’s destruction decisions were made? Should I tell him I am among my friends while he was by himself miserable? Should I tell him I can sleep with no gun next to my pillow? Should I tell him that I wished he was with me in all the places I went to?

I asked about how the disastrous life is treating him there. As usual, he was caught in crossfire and survived. Here is what he said literally, “I was at work [in Adhamiya] when explosions and shootings started around the area. Employees panicked. A rumor was spread immediately: the Interior ministry commandos came to kidnap the employees! We were all unable to function. In moments, I imagined myself being tortured by them. I even imagined my mother wailing at my body. We shut down everything starting form the computers and stopped working. The sounds of the shooting came closer. I could not stay in the building. I decided to run away before they come and kidnap me. I’ll be dead in all cases so I’d rather be killed in the street than being kidnapped and tortured. It was hellish outside. Different armed men were fighting each other. Iraqi soldiers, commandos, Mahdi army and the neighborhood armed men were all shooting at each other. I ran in the streets as fast as I could. I swear to God I saw the bullets falling next to me. I thought I only saw that in movies. Each minute passed was like an hour. It was so scary. Women and men were running and hiding in any safe spot they could find. I kept running until I found an empty land surrounded by metal fence. I climbed on the fence and was able to jump. I just wanted to be away from those who came to kidnap the young men in the area whether from our institution or from the neighborhood. I kept running for hours until I reached our neighborhood. I was exhausted and unable to do anything from what I saw.”

When my father called me the next day, I knew there was something wrong. He was also caught in the same cross fire in Adhamiya which Ahmed faced. He went there to get his pension salary from the bank. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t even say he should have not gone because I know they need the salary. I felt lost, disabled, and unable to think. He told me he had to stay in the bank because the bank is at least protected by guards and Iraqi soldiers. For few hours inside the bank, he was finally able to leave when everything around him looked deserted and scary. He said the neighborhood was dirty as trash filled the sidewalks. Most of the cleaners were killed. The houses and shops were riddled with bullets.

On Christmas day, I woke up on the noise of television. I was so sleepy that I really didn’t want to know what was going on. Thanks to the devil who woke me up three times earlier and never left me sleep in peace. I opened my eyes to see what it was. I grabbed my glasses. It was Christmas celebration in Disney World! Children in my niece’s age were jumping out of happiness. I turned my head on the other side of the pillow. I didn’t want to see more. I couldn’t accept the fact that my niece who is only 15 months old is suffering in Iraq. How could I see these children having fun while she is in Baghdad looking at her parents turning on the generator? How could I do that by the time she is locked in the house all day? She is even deprived from going to amusement parks which no longer exist! She does not even know what a slide is! Her new hobby is to use the phone and hear my parents talking to her. Is that fair? At least we lived our childhood in Baghdad happily and joyfully as most of the other children. Yes, Saddam was a tyrant, a dictator, a criminal but he did not deprive us from our childhood’s happiness like the thugs that are ruling the country now. Oh I forgot! Probably this is Haram [forbidden] in the religion. How blasphemous of me to say that! Sorry Mullah, Sorry Sheikh!

Before this entry, I wrote three others that I didn’t publish. I was so mad that I kept them on the computer only. In one of them I wrote about the death of one of Iraq’s famous actors who sacrificed himself for the sake of Iraq and art in Iraq. I was also mad at some stupid news that the Americans are involved in like the escape of the former electricity prisoner who called the government officials in the green zone “suckers”. Well they are suckers but what made me mad is that it reached this extent that he escapes and laughs at everyone in the green zone. It just made me feel angrier that the country is so lawless that a detainee like him escapes from the whole country!

I thought it’s only me who can’t enjoy his time during the holidays. It appeared that all of my friends outside Iraq feel the same. S, A., S., H., and me! Yes, we go out. We meet friends. We go to the movies, bars and clubs. But there is something missing. There is something wrong in that. There is a piece inside our hearts bleeding. Sometime, I feel the shirt or the sweater I wear is wet because of the bleeding. When I touch it, I feel my heart stops. I feel I love it so much even if it hurts. Sometimes, I wish I could abandon it forever to stop the pain. But then my soul talks to me and tells me not to do so. “This is your beloved. How could you think like this?” it would say. Sometimes, I wish I could see it. I want to stop the bleeding but I don’t know how.

When I am awake or asleep, it is always with me. I feel it every night. Sometimes I see it coming into my dreams in the shape of a woman bleeding and crying for help. I want to shout and tell her I would help her but I can’t. I always feel chocked as if there is a rope around my neck preventing me from shouting. It is always that black ghost behind me walking secretly. I always feel him saying, “you’ll never see peace.” I wake up shivering. My T-shirt would be full of sweat. I feel I would jump in cold water to cool the fire inside my body. I throw the blanket away, drink some water and think.

Oh Baghdad. What have you done to me? I miss you, I would say. Memories of my happy and hard times would flashback into my mind reminding me of how everything became upside-down. I close my eyes again. I wish they keep closing forever. They saw what no human on earth could see.

baghdadtreasure@gmail.com

Happy Eid, Christams and Hanukah

Happy Holidays! I wish Muslims, Christians and Jews Happy Eid, Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukah. May this holiday season bring peace to my beloved country and people.

... and Happy New Year!

Zionists, Jews

When Omar and I were waiting for the 44 bus in J.F. Kennedy Street in Center City Philadelphia, a small picture stuck on the bus stop drew my attention. I went closer to see who the person in it was. As I reached it, I found out it was Sharon’s, former Israeli Prime Minister.

The sticker carried a website address which eventually appeared to be a blog address. In all cases, I wasn’t interested. Sharon is the last person on earth that I would care about or hear what is happening to him.

However, I stopped for a minute staring at the photo not because Sharon was on it but because memories flashed back into my mind, memories of the Zionists and the Jews.

There was one advantage I learned from this war, I told Omar. He looked at me and asked, “which war?” The latest one, I replied. I learned how to differentiate between the term “Zionist” and “Jew”.

He looked at me in daze! “Yes, it’s only in 2003 that I learned what the difference between these two words is.” There were so many questions in his mind. I didn’t wait for him to ask them. I explained why it’s just recently that I learned that difference.

At home, we never discussed politics, NEVER, period. My parents were so cautious about these things. Any mistake would take all of us, if not all of my tribe, to jail or execution by Saddam’s people. One of the things we did not discuss at home was who the Jews and the Zionists are. It was only once I recall my mother and grandmother talking about their Jewish Iraqi neighbors and friends whom they missed. I was 12 or 13 at that time. I asked both of them about it. My mother sighed and said that the Iraqi Jews were very nice and lovely people. That was it. She never mentioned anything after that neither did my grandmother.

I was like most teenagers whose main source of news was Saddam’s regime’s media outlets and school curricula. They all denounced the “Jews”. None of them clarified what the difference was. Like most of those in my age, I was brain washed. I was taught to hate the “Jews”, all of them, not only the “Zionists”.

I tried to know more about what is happening in Palestine but all of what I learned was how the “Jews” occupied Palestine and established their illegal state. I asked my parents a lot about it. I got nothing. They always told me not to be indulged in such conversation with anyone, even inside the house. My father’s attitude was if you say it here, you’d say it outside and that would lead to the execution of the family if not the whole tribe if Saddam’s men discover that we were questioning this issue. “Always be away from politics and such issues,” I remember him saying.

When I was in undergraduate school, I didn’t know anything about how journalism works. When the second Intifadha occurred in September 2000 between Palestinian Arabs and Israelis, I was full of hatred. I hated the “Jews”. I didn’t know that this term was far broader than what is happening in Palestine. I was forced to join the protests organized by the Baath Party to denounce the “Jews”.

Before 2003, the term “Jews” among most Iraqis in my age meant the Zionists. I even recall how a rumor was spread in my undergrad school when one of my classmates said that a member of the “Backstreet Boys” band is Jewish. Most of the classmates told her that “this was untrue. It seems there was someone trying to distort the reputation of the band in Iraq”. She swore she read that in an American magazine smuggled through Jordan. No one believed her. Eventually, she stopped talking about it.

It is also ironic that one of the text books I had in my undergrad school was written by Noam Chomsky. It was about Linguistics. I recall my professor saying that Chomsky was a Jew who is against the State of Israel! He did not elaborate and none of the students asked him more about it. No one wanted to be in trouble. I kept wondering how come he is Jewish and he’s against the State of Israel which we called the “Zionist Entity” at the time. I found no answer till after the 2003 war.

Finally, the confusion I had and the decades of misinformation have come to end. After the invasion, I was able to start the investigation by myself. Saddam was gone. It was time to ask without being fearful.

The first thing that clarified things to me was when I worked with American journalists. I discovered that some of them were Jews. I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid and confused. I couldn’t even ask for people’s advice. How come I tell them I work with those whom they hated their entire lives? Should I keep working with them or stop? I wondered. I was torn. “These are Zionists,” I thought at the time until I found out the real difference.

It was through the internet that I first recognized that mysterious difference that was hidden and kept away from Iraqis for decades. It was time to ask more about the Iraqi Jews. Who were they? Where did they go? How do they look like? Were they like the Israeli soldiers killing the Palestinians? And more questions were that were held hostage in my mind for a long time. I let them free. I asked everyone knew an Iraqi Jew. I started with my grandmother. I sat on the brown wooden sofa in her kitchen. We talked for hours. Eventually she cried when she remembered her best Jewish friend Clair who was her neighbor as well. She was one of the thousands of Iraqi Jews who were forced to leave Iraq in the 1940s. She told me all about them. They were like us, Iraqis. She told me that they were very famous of the trade of cloths. My grandfather was a wealthy man whose main cloth merchants were Jewish. He owned several factories of sewing clothes. She narrated stories of how my mother, uncles and aunts had so many Jewish friends who used to go together to the same schools.

She recalled the “Farhood al Yahood”, a pogrom against the Iraqi Jews that took place on June 1-2, 1941 where Jews were injured and murdered, Jewish property was looted, and Jewish houses were burnt down.

For three years now, I think of those people. I kept asking myself, why did that happen to them? They are Iraqis. That was their home as well as mine. I felt so angry and unable to imagine how much I was deceived. I even feel guilty because they were deprived from their homeland by the time we enjoyed it. Sometimes I think what is happening now is heaven’s revenge to what happened to the Jews.

Until this day, I surf the web to read more about them and their traditions hoping to meet up with one of them one day. All what I read is moving and touching. Some of their writings brought tears to my eyes. I remember an article written by Shmuel Moreh, an Iraqi Jewish Professor and Chairman of the Association of Jewish Academics from Iraq in Israel. In his article posted on Ilaf, Moreh described how his uncle cried for Iraq as he was dying in the hospital. He narrated what his uncle went through after the Farhood events until he reached Israel. His last words brought tears to my eyes. He wished he didn’t leave Iraq despite all of what happened to him.

Another Jewish Iraqi website I came across is called Reminisce of Baghdad where the author documented his family’s pictures and tales when they were in Iraq accompanied by Iraqi music. He also linked to other Iraqi Jewish artists who their longing to Iraq is represented in their paintings.

Today, I have many Jewish friends whom I am proud of. Today, I know who they are and what they stand for. But now that I know there is a difference, there are hundreds of thousands Iraqis who don’t. Generation after generation was taught to hate the “Jews”, all the Jews. How are these going to learn the difference? How are they going to love the Iraqi Jews if they consider all of them Israelis?

To all the Iraqi Jews, I take a bow to your love and loyalty to your country which you were forced to leave. One day, all of us will go back to our beloved Iraq and restore our bonds.

baghdadtreasure@gmail.com

North Korea, Get In The Line!

When abc’s Diane Sawyer and her crew landed in Pyongyang, the airport was empty. Surrounded by minders, interpreters and airport employees, she was welcomed with a careful smile. A warm welcome might put them in trouble

Last week, abc network’s promotion of the Sawyer’s Primetime was very interesting. It was about visiting a hidden country that Iraq almost looked like one day.

Since the Americans became increasingly worried, TV networks started mentioning North Korea, the nation’s new enemy, frequently. After the North Korean declaration of conducting a nuclear test, the U.S. administration started encircling the country with a red marker to prevent the world from global terrorism and tyranny, they said.

Since then, the US media started concentrating about the North Korean tyrant and the possibility that he might use his weapons of mass destruction in the future. They raced to get into that sealed world. They have had enough news about Iraq.

Sawyer’s Primetime was finally aired last Friday. She spent twelve days in a world she considers “astonishingly different” from the one she inhabits.

I was interested in watching the show because I wanted to see how different North Korea is from the rest of the world. I heard Iraq was another copy of that sealed off country. I didn’t really care much about the weapons of mass destruction and all this fuss about it.

The trip started with Sawyer at the airport which was decorated with the huge posters of the country’s most fearful leader Kim Jong-il who succeeded his father Kim Il-sung, the founder of the Democratic People's Republic. As I saw that image, memories of old Iraq flashed back in my mind. The streets were filled with the Korean dictator’s posters everywhere and the entire nation seemed to praise their “great leader” for the achievements he claimed to lead the country to.

“We are the descendants of the great leader,” three North Korean children sang pausing before the abc camera. I laughed out loud at this, not because I was surprised but because I went through the same thing when I was in their age. It was exactly the same when we were trained to praise the “great leader,” in my case it was Saddam Hussein, when we were in school. I recalled how we sang for Hussein praising victory against the Persian and American enemies.

Sawyer showed copies of the country’s state-owned newspapers which looked exactly like the ones we used to have before 2003: a picture of the president below a bold-font headline, “Glory to the Korean People’s army”.

“We noticed a magazine that said the United States was the biggest human rights violator in the world,” Sawyer said in her notes published on the network’s website. “Because women make just 75 cents on the dollar compared to men, and there are 14 million people in America without health care.”

In her tour in the city, Sawyer interviewed students and children. She asked them about their future dreams and looked amazed at how insistent they were to study and serve their country.

These ambitious generations have no idea about the internet. One student who wants to be an expert in the nuclear experiments knew nothing about Google. “I am sorry. I don’t know what you are talking about,” the student replied.

Although there are some similarities between Iraq under Saddam and North Korea under Kim Jong-il, I’ve noticed some differences between the two countries. Under Saddam, internet was allowed in 2000 as Saddam’s regime accepted that Iraqis use it with a full government censorship.

Another thing that drew my attention was that the North Korean young people are not allowed to listen to American music. In my case, I was exposed to western music when I wanted. When Sawyer gave them a copy of an American magazine, they were not excited about going through it. Instead, they passed it to each other looking at the cover only.

Another difference is that the government in North Korea interferes even in how people are dressed. They said their leader likes conservative dresses! However, some young people appeared wearing clothes with American brands like Nike with no idea it is an American product. That was not the case in Iraq, though. Always, Iraqis chose what to wear until the new religious extremists came to power and forced people to wear what the religion wants!

The North Korean people denounced the U.S. on camera.

“I like nothing about America,” one man said. “I don’t want America to interfere,” a woman said. “It’s our enemy,” another man said.

After the show was over, I thought about what is going to happen if the Americans intervened in North Korea? What would happen to the children, student, farmers, and all the innocent people? Will they pay the price of their government’s challenge like what happened in Iraq? If they already hate America, what would happen if America hurt them?

The main question remains, what would the U.S. administration do? Do you think they would “liberate” them from their tyrant? I don’t think so. These guys DO have nuclear weapons and ARE able to defend themselves.

baghdadtreasure@gmail.com

TV

Usually, I don’t have that much time to watch TV but sometimes I try to watch some programs and series to get to know how the American society functions.

I don’t have a cable service. So all the channels I can get through the antenna on my TV are the main local channels like 6abc, CBS3, NBC10, Fox 29, MyPhl17, CW-Philly and some other religious and commercial TV stations.

The kinds of programs I see here are almost 100 percent different than the ones I used to watch in the Arab World.

Unlike some of the famous programs like Oprah and Dr. Phil which are also broadcasted on Arab channels, there are some programs that are far from being mentioned. I like watching some of them while I feel disgusted when I see the others.

My favorite channel that I always switch on the TV at is MyPhl17. It’s the kind of channel that mainly presents entertainment. Friends, Will & Grace, and According to Jim are my most favorite TV shows ever. I used to watch them on the Saudi-funded and Dubai-based MBC4, except for “Will & Grace” which contains “gay” stories that are completely forbidden on most-if not all- of the Arab channels.

One of the programs that drew my attention lately is called “Cheaters.com”. From CHEATERS^® surveillance cameras, people are able to view actual true stories, filmed live, documenting the pain of a spouse or lover caused by infidelity. This show revolves around spouses, boyfriends, girlfriends and fiancées who have sought the help of "Cheaters" private investigation services to find out if their partners are really cheating or not.

The program is hosted by Joey Greico and each week features a new tormented male or female who waits for the results of surveillance done on his/her partner by the "Cheaters" secret cameras. As expected, the act of infidelity is proven and, after showing the betrayed guy or gal with grainy, poor quality footage of their sweetheart's unfaithfulness, Greico and the betrayed lover go to confront the person in question.

I liked this show because it makes a change! It helps reveal secrets.

However, there are other programs on the same channel that I really don’t like. One of them is called “Jerry Springer”.

Before I go to work or school every morning, I turn on the TV as I have my little breakfast hoping I could see something that may make my day. It strikes me to see this “Jerry Springer” is broadcasted at 8 or 9 a.m. every morning showing all these men and women fighting each other like animals.

Unlike Cheaters.com, Oprah or Dr. Phil, Jerry Spring’s show reveal problems of cheaters, spouses, relatives and others in a very disgusting way which is by letting the two parts fight each other on the stage while a dozens-people audience shout and scream as if they are watching a kickboxing game.

In one scene, I remember Spring presenting a man who cheated on his wife five times. This man came to the studio to apologize to his wife. The wife and the mistress met up there as well. They were indulged in a sever fight that is even worse than the ones I saw in a cockfight. They tore the clothes of each other in front of the audience making people jump out of happiness to see the boobs and the nipples of these two women whose man was standing at the corner proud of what he has created.

In another scene, a woman challenged a man that she could show her boobs live in front of the camera and she did it. She kept her T-shirt up for few minutes letting people enjoy looking at them as they whistled and clapped.

I really don’t know what to make of that image. It was supposed to be sexy. I found it disgusting instead of sexy. What kind of woman does that on air? I think it’s better to get some porn magazines or websites to enjoy cool sex images. At least women there know what they are doing!

In the middle of all of these disgusting footages, Jerry Springer moves happily joking and laughing at the absurdity of the stories he brought to his show. I maybe the only one who feels that this show is so frustrating and disgusting despite the fact that women tear clothes and fight in a very sexy way. For me, women should be more respected that being shown in such a cheap way. Thanks to Oprah and Dr. Phil who present real problems in a very respectful ways.

baghdadtreausre@gmail.com

Oh My Daughter

An Iraqi sobbing over the body of his daughter who was killed by an explosion in Baghdad this morning.

Threatening Leaflets distributed in Baghdad

Civil war in Iraq has reached its peak. Everyday a new aspect of life dies. People are killed continuously in massacres that harvest more than 500 lives in one week.

Out of this civil war, education has its share. Schools are barely functioning to educate the new generations of Iraq.

After the U.S.-led occupation to Iraq, education deteriorated form its steady situation where students and professors were able to exchange knowledge despite the oppression of the former regime and the U.S.-U.N. sanctions against the Iraqi people.

Last November, Gunmen in military-style uniforms abducted scores of staff and visitors from a Higher Education Ministry institution in Baghdad. The attackers stormed the ministry's research department, locked women in a room and took the men away. As a reaction to this, the Higher education minister ordered all universities to be closed fearing a new wave of abductions reach the university campuses.

The minister’s fears were right. However, the new fighting-education campaign took another style. The militant’s aim seems to be not to kill professors rather than kill education itself. They started new techniques in destroying the long-term good education in the country.

Last week, a friend of mine told me that the former chair of the English Department in my university in Baghdad fled to northern Iraq. She told me he became miserable after armed men kidnapped his son, beheaded him and sent his head in a box.

Today, my sister called me from Baghdad. She said most of the students are either unable to go to the universities or unwilling to due to the kidnappings and bombings. In the latest incident, she said, armed men distributed leaflets in the University of Technology, the major engineering university in allover Iraq, threatening students and professors to be killed if they come to school. She added that the whole university has been shut down since last week.

In today’s edition, Azzaman newspaper reported that an “unknown group distributed leaflets to university students in Adhamiya and Yarmouk neighborhoods banning them from going to schools.” The paper added that the same group “excluded the elementary and high school students” from this campaign and “promised not to hurt them.”

Residents of Adhamiya told the paper that yesterday’s leaflets caused a huge panic among the residents and the students who stopped going to their schools after these threats.

A university professor who spoke to Azzaman on condition of anonymity said he was shocked when he saw one of the leaflets at the footstep of his house. He said fear haunted him and made him decide not to go to school fearing these groups’ threats.

In Abu Ghraib, an area in south western Baghdad, another unknown group distributed same leaflets threatening students from going to the Agriculture college of Baghdad university which is located in that restive part of the city.

People in Azzafaraniya, an eastern Baghdad neighborhood, said that armed groups threatened students of the Technical Institute to be killed if they come to school.

The Higher education ministry sources did not comment on most of these incidents, Azzaman said. The source didn’t say much but told the paper that the “government promised to increase the security measures in the universities and institutes.”

UPDATE:

Lady Bird of "Roads to Iraq" posted two of the leaflets mentioned above. However, there is a slight difference from the ones which Azzaman newspaper mentioned. They might be other leaflets.

"To the youths of the future, your lives are part of the live of the nation. So save it by not going to the universities and institutes of Baghdad in order not to be an easy target for the death squads."

"From these universities, the scholars and holy warriors graduated and at their gates, they are being killed.

To protect the lives of our dear professors and students from the assassinations that Maliki’s rejectionist [Shiite] government and its death squads are carrying out, it has been decided to stop schools for this academic calendar in all the Universities and institutes in Baghdad.

It is completely prohibited going to school after this announcement."

baghdadtreasure@gmail.com

Abu Deraa

In early 1970s, Baghdadis feared a serial killer nicknamed, Abu Tubar, Father of Hatchet. The hatchet man was a Baathist-made criminal who managed to scare Baghdadis to distract them form the Baathist crimes. He succeeded to make them lock up their doors at nights and to march armed in the streets to be protected.

When I was young back in the 1980s, life was normal despite the ongoing war with Iran. However, there were some rumors about some other criminal gangs like the al-Kaf al-Aswad, the Black Palm gang, wandering in Baghdad and klling people after robbing them. I remember how these gangs were part of the daily life and fear of Baghdadis. They were the talk of the town.

It didn’t take Iraqis so long to go back to their normal lives after the former regime allegedly managed to capture these criminals and submit them to “justice”.

However, when I look back to history and compare what is happening in Iraq now, I see Iraqis witnessing a new era of crime and inhumanity. Instead of one Abu Tubar, we have several. There is an American Abu Tubar, a foreign Arab Abu Tubar, a Shiite-Mullah Abu Tubar, a Sunni-Anbari Abu Tubar, a Sadr City Abu Tubar, and many other Abu Tubars.

Before he was killed by the Americans, Iraqis resembled Zarqawi with Abu Tubar. However, a new one emerged after his death. This time, he wasn’t a Qaeda guy or a Sunni from Anbar or Sallahuldeen. He was a Shiite from Sadr City, formerly known as Saddam City or al-Thawra.

The new Abu Tubar had unique and different nom de guerre, Abu Deraa, Father of the Armor, a reference to his penchant for attacking U.S. armored vehicles. He is known of having a big amusement in torturing his victims who most of them are Sunni civilians. One of his signature techniques is running a drill into the skull of his live victim, according to a recent Time article. His appetite for mayhem is so vast that some Iraqis call him the "Shiite Zarqawi"

In the picture Above, Abu Deraa is holding a U.S. soldier's helmet during the Najaf battle between the U.S. forces and the Mahdi Army.

In an exclusive interview, the new Baghdadi slaughterer replied to questions sent by Time:

Abu Deraa agreed last week to provide written responses to TIME's questions, which were passed to him by intermediaries. He says he is "honored" by comparisons to al-Zarqawi and claimed, implausibly, to have no ill will toward ordinary Sunnis. He says his fight is against "occupiers, their supporters and takfiris"--a reference to Sunni insurgents linked to al-Qaeda. He denied that he had kidnapped al-Taie, the missing U.S. soldier, but added, "I would be very proud if it was me who kidnapped that soldier, and I am very proud of any kind of accusation against me, especially related to [acts against] the occupiers and those who serve the occupation." He said he was motivated by a "sense of holy duty toward my faith [to fight] against any hostile enemy of my faith."

The magazine also provided a comprehensive background of Abu Deraa:

Abu Deraa was born Ismail al-Zarjawi to a poor family in Sadr City. After a career in petty crime during the Saddam Hussein years, he became one of the first recruits of al-Sadr's Mahdi Army after the dictator's fall. "When the Americans entered the country and kicked Saddam out, we were very happy," Abu Deraa says. "But then we discovered their bad intentions against Iraq, so we started attacking the occupation forces." In the spring of 2004 he participated in the Shi'ite uprising against U.S. forces in Sadr City. That was also when he earned his nom de guerre Abu Deraa, or "Father of the Shield," a reference to his penchant for attacking U.S. armored vehicles.

He saw more action that summer in Najaf and that fall in Fallujah, when a small detachment of Shi'ites fought alongside Sunni insurgents against U.S. forces. Back then, he says, "it was a real resistance, and there was no sectarian affiliation." Abu Deraa spent the next year consolidating his position as a Mahdi Army leader, first among equals of three commanders in Sadr City. Iraqi officials say this was when he turned to kidnapping for cash, which he used to buy weapons and lure recruits.

Iraqi Sunnis accuse Abu Deraa of killing thousands of Sunnis, not just political figures and militant Salafis, but ordinary civilians as well. On August 22nd, The Age, an Australian newspaper reported that Abu Deraa lured Sunni men to their deaths. Through interviewing a close associate to Abu Deraa, the paper reported that he commandeered a fleet of ambulances and drove them into a Sunni neighborhood in Baghdad calling on all young men to come and give blood, announcing on a loud speaker that "the Shiites are killing your Sunni brothers". The young men went to the ambulances and were trapped and killed.


A video recorded on a telephone camera and circulated in Shiite areas shows a man believed to be Abu Deraa conducting the kidnapping and assassination of Saddam Hussein's lawyer Khamis al-Obeidi. The video shows al-Obeidi emerging from a private residence, where he was undergoing interrogation, into a narrow alleyway. Al-Obeidi pleaded with his captors on the video, saying that he would lie beneath their feet and do whatever they wanted. Abu Deraa then tied al-Obeidi's hands behind his back and placed him in the back of a white Toyota pickup truck. Al-Obeidi was paraded through Sadr City, where the crowd threw stones at him and taunted him with Shiite slogans. He was hit on the back of the neck, an extreme insult in Arab culture. After being paraded through the slum, the vehicle stopped and Abu Deraa fired three shots into al-Obeidi's skull (The Age, August 22).



After going far in his crimes, Abu Deraa became hated even by some of his cleric leaders. Iraq for All, an Iraqi local news website reported that Muqtada al-Sadr himself dismissed 60 members, including Abu Deraa, from the Mahdi Army militia. However, the man was still considered a hero, especially by Shiite members in the parliament.

Falah Shansal, a member of parliament from the al-Sadr bloc, told Time last week that Abu Deraa was still "a fighter in the Mahdi Army."


Like most of the “wanted” insurgents, Abu Deraa was hard to be caught. He managed to escape several times until he was killed few days ago by a Sunni insurgent group. Azzaman newspaper reported that the Islamic Army, one of the insurgent armed groups, killed Abu Deraa. The group announced that in a statement. Azzaman said they received a copy of that statement which it quoted as :

“After two months of chasing the slaughterer of Baghdad, the blessed battalion was able to blow up the ambulance he was driving in [Sadr City], Amil and Shula neighborhoods and Balad.”

baghdadtreasure@gmail.com

The Baghdad Reunion

When it comes to vacations, I never say no. It has been six months since the last time I had a vacation with friends. I might have been lucky that I was able to do that when I was in Iraq last June by the time many other people were hardly leaving their houses to school or work.

The last trip I adventured was with my friends Ahmed and Safaa in Iraq. We went to Iraq’s Northern Kurdistan region where we had some of the best times in our lives. Mostly, it was a farewell trip. I decided to take the risk and have fun with my friends as I might not see them in my entire life again.

All that time, I was thinking about how my life was going to be in the US. Different thoughts came into my mind. The first one was how I am going to be a stranger in a new world that has a huge sensitivity against Arabs and Muslims.

When I left Iraq, I cried a lot. Not only for Iraq, but for myself. Everything around me started to change. No family, no friends, and no homeland to see. All faces become different since the airplane landed in Jordan. What eased the pain was Omar’s presence in Amman. We spent a great time together to overcome the sadness inside our hearts.

Shortly after I settled in Philadelphia, Jon, my American friend, came in Philly for a wedding of one of his friends. We met the next day of the wedding. At that day, he invited Omar and I to spend the Thanksgiving holiday with him and his family in Vermont. I didn’t know what Thanksgiving meant at the time but I knew it’s a holiday in which people serve turkey as a tradition.

Omar and I encircled November 23^rd in our calendars to make sure we don’t have other plans on that day. We made plans for the trip. Jon and I were in touch to make sure everything goes perfect.

Since this holiday is one of the biggest in the U.S., Jon advised me to buy the ticket earlier. So I bought it few weeks before the holiday to make sure I find a seat on the train. Since then, I started preparing for it. I didn’t know what to do. I was so excited, not only about having a vacation but about seeing my friends. Although I have a wonderful group of friends now in Philly but my Baghdad friends lie in a special part in my heart. They are not only friends. They are part of my life in Iraq. The part that is engraved in my mind.

I’ve been in touch a lot with my friend Jill since I came to the U.S. Hearing her voice makes me feel hopeful, strong, and willing to go on with everything that makes me succeed. She is so much like my sister in Iraq whom I terribly miss. Jill was invited by Jon as well as my former bureau chief in Baghdad.

On Tuesday November 21^st, I took my bags and went to the train station. I was very excited. The moment I entered the station, I received a text message from Omar saying his friend’s father was kidnapped. I was shocked! I thought it’s not the right time to hear bad news. I just needed to have fun, for God’s sake. As I read the message, million thoughts came into my mind starting from my neighbor who was kidnapped and then found tortured and dead. I called Omar. He was miserable. I tried to calm him down but in vain. It wasn’t only his friend’s father kidnapping but his brother who called him that day crying and pleading for help as well.

The train station was incredibly crowded. Neither I nor the people traveling with me found seats on the train. It’s the crazy holiday, one old woman complained as she was standing next to a young man in his seat looking at her and turning his face in dislike!

As I was making my way to find a seat after a 20-minutes standing, Omar called me. People started staring at me in daze as I spoke with Omar in Arabic. I stared as well and was about to say, “Why are you looking? I didn’t invade your country and abused your people!”. Oh well. I decided not to. I just wanted to have fun and ignore all those who looked at me as if I were an alien coming from another planet. I wonder when the Americans will get out of the bubble they live in.

I took the train to New Haven, CT where Jon lives. The plan was to travel to Boston to meet up with Omar, Jill and our friend and bureau chief. On the next day, we had lunch in a restaurant called “Louis’ Lunch”, a restaurant in New Haven famous for its hamburgers, which opened in 1895. The proprietors claim that Louis' Lunch was, in 1900, the first place in the United States to serve hamburgers as they are known today. Louis' Lunch refuses to sell a hamburger with ketchup or mustard. It's either cheese, tomato, or onion, or not at all. The Louis' Lunch hamburger is served on toast, not buns. As we were eating, one of the sign drew my attention. It read, “This is not Burger King. You don’t get it your way. You take it my way or you don’t get the damn thing.” It reminded me with a sign I saw in New York City last year when I was with Mad Canuck. The sign read, “Don’t even think of parking here.”!!

After that, we drove to Boston. On the way, two friends of Jon came with us. The trip took about two hours. During that time, I closed my eyes in the car to take a nap after a long day I had with Jon and his other friend exploring New Haven. As I closed my eyes, I thought about my family and other Iraqis. How many Iraqis were closing their eyes with tears falling on their pillows at that moment, I asked myself. I found no answer.

Finally, the reunion happened. We united again after a long time of nostalgia. I was very happy. I even forgot all the sad things at that moment. I felt I was in Baghdad, not in Boston. It was so weird to see them here.

Altogether, we went to Vermont where Jon’s family lives. Jon was driving while all of us chatted all the way to his family’s house remembering the old days in Baghdad with their sweetness and bitterness.

It was about 10:30 p.m. when I we arrived. We took our bags out of the trunk and marched towards the family house. As we stepped in, I noticed something familiar, the smell. It was like the smell in my house. With a big smile, Jon’s family welcomed us in their beautiful house. Dinner was served. We joined them eating a variety of delicious food.

The trip was long but I never felt tired. I was happy and excited. It was the very first thing that made me happy since I arrived in the States. After dinner, Jon directed us to our rooms. The room which Omar and I shared was his brothers’. A blue-colored square room decorated with pictures of him and his brothers playing hockey. A group of prizes were lined up on the bookcases and dresser marking the brothers’ achievements in sports.

Before we slept, Omar and I went to Jon’s room. It was his room since he was born. A nice small room that almost looks like his brothers’. I asked him to show us old pictures of him. He grabbed some photo albums. The three of us sat on the bed and saw the pictures of young and teenage Jon. We laughed as if we have never laughed before. Then Jon pulled a flute that looks like my father’s. He started playing. Silence followed. He played the Iraqi National Anthem. Omar and I looked at each other in happiness. “How did you do that?” I asked Jon happily. He smiled and didn’t answer. I couldn’t believe that this was not a dream. I couldn’t even imagine that three of us who used to laugh, joke, and sometimes fight in Baghdad were together again. It was such a nice feeling. I think I wouldn’t be able to be fair in describing it.

We went to sleep. I was so excited that I couldn’t sleep at first. I closed my eyes and a flashback of memories of my life with my friends at the office came into my mind.

The next day, I didn’t wake up early. I heard the sound of the anthem again. I immediately knew it was Jon. He was playing it at the door to wake us up. It was such a great start that made my day. I took a shower after Omar did and went down to have breakfast with the whole family. We had breakfast and then we started chatting to get to know each other.

Jon has such great parents. His father is exactly my father, an educated, calm man whom you like from the first word he speaks. His mother is so lovely. She reminded me with my mother, a smiling happy woman whom everybody loves. Jon’s sister, a public school teacher, is so friendly and his brother, a painter, looks like him a lot.

The weather was great. It was chilly but sunny. Jon, Omar, and our bureau chief and I decided to have a walk in the meadows that encircle the whole house. Jill was still asleep by that time. We put on our coats and went out enjoying the wonderful nature that almost looks like the nature in northern Iraq.

Unlike its overdeveloped neighbors to the south, east, and west, Vermont was a state of nature. The meadows were green despite the cold weather. The trees were lined up next to each other like a comb. The air was fresh and mixed with the smell of the grass and the leaves on the trees. I was walking joyfully. I wanted to dance, to jump and be crazy. I imagined my family and friends in Iraq with me. I wanted them there enjoying this beautiful piece of heaven. I loved everything there, even the green and black mail boxes that reminded me with the American cartoons we used to watch when we were kids. We returned back and saw Jill awake. So we decided to have another tour. This time, it was by car. We went to the downtown. We joked, laughed, and took pictures to record these wonderful times.

At lunch time, the house was amazingly crowded by friends and relatives. They were all lovely and friendly. When I was among them, I never felt I don’t know them. They were like my family. As we were having lunch, Jon’s father turned on the CD player and put an audio CD of Iraqi songs and music. Naseer Shamma playing his wonderful lute pieces and Kadhum al-Sahir singing happy songs. I found out later that he burned them on a CD from the internet specifically for us, Omar and me. “No, don’t sigh,” al-Sahir sang. “Laughter will be back in a while and the fire in your chest will quell.”

The song came at the right time. I felt a little bid sad as I heard the news of the car bombing in Sadr City and the tension that happened afterwards. I didn’t know about until a produce from the BBC radio called me and told me about it. I was so worried about my family. Jon’s father handed me the phone to call them and make sure they are OK. When I called them, they tried to hide their fears and asked me to enjoy my time and never think about what is happening there. It was impossible, of course. However, I felt relieved to hear their voices. I needed to know they were still alive and nothing bad happened to them.

It was the Thanksgiving night. Food was made joyfully by most of the family members during the whole day. Jon’s mother made the turkey. Before dinner, Omar lit the candles in the chandelier in the big room, which was built in the late 1700s. After that he brought his computer and made Jon’s entire family enjoy watching a slideshow of Jon’s photos with us in our Baghdad Bureau. As they sat lined up at the sofa and the floor, they stared and laughed out loud at the funny pictures that Jon and we took in the Baghdad Bureau. They were historical pictures of a group of friends going through happy and sad times.

At 5 p.m., we gathered in the big room. Jon’s father installed his high-tech camera and put it on a timer. We took our seats and the camera shot three photos of all of us. Before we dug in, Jon’s father gave a toast. He welcomed all the attendees-family and friends- and invited all of us to visit his wonderful house and family again.

After dinner, we enjoyed deserts while chatting and talking about different topics. Then, we went to the living room to watch TV. One of the channels was showing “Live from Baghdad”, a movie about how CNN crew covered the 1991 Gulf war in Iraq. Personally, I didn’t like the movie as there were so many untrue details in it like the information minister sipping tea with the CNN reporter who appeared smoking in Saddam’s palace before interviewing him, not to mention the painters drawing Saddam’s visage in the middle of the street. All these never happened because Saddam was very strict about such things.

The next day, we spent the whole day touring in the city. At night, we were divided into two groups. We went to the movies. Jill, two of Jon’s best friends and I watched “Babel” while Jon, Omar and our bureau chief watched “The Queen”. Tow days later, Jon, his sister and I drove back to New Haven while the others returned back to their homes by train, bus, and airplane.

It was such a wonderful trip. It was nice not only because of the place but because of the warmth and loveliness of all the people I met there. I will never forget it in my entire life.

baghdadtreasure@gmail.com

Not yet?!

It strikes me to see how the world has not realized yet that Iraq is already going through a civil war. Amidst all the bloodshed, politicians and officials show up on TV and say Iraq is NOT yet going through a civil war.

Kofi Annan has said publicly Iraq is teetering on "the brink of civil war". Most U.S. officials say that the violence in Iraq is called a sectarian strife and not a civil war. Only Iraqis themselves realized that what is happening now is no longer strife and the long-term unity they enjoyed before has no place among them anymore.

I don’t know how the U.S. national security adviser Stephen Hadley spoke on behalf of Iraqis few days ago. He said, "The Iraqis don't talk of it as civil war." Where did he get that from? He never asked me! He’d never been to Iraq. He represents his country’s views, not ours. So how come he speaks on our behalf?!

The uproar taken place in the Middle East became the center of attention these days. Maliki and Bush are going to meet up in Jordan. Talabani is in Iran discussing the same issue. But the solution for the real problem, which seems no one realized yet, is not by talking to neighbors. It is solved by talking to ourselves.

Iran and Syria are the first words Bush always says after the word “terrorism” when he shows up on TV with his useless remarks. Yes, these two countries are part of the problem but they are not the main problem. Let’s try to concentrate on what are the mean reason behind this civil war and try to solve them. Foreign fighters coming from Syria, Jordan, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, and Iran are not the main reasons now. Have you read lately a foreign fighter blew himself up? No, you hear and Iraqi [Shiite or Sunni] blew up himself or shot someone dead.

I really don’t know why the U.S. administration does not want to focus on the real crisis instead of talking continuously about “terrorism”. It’s either they know the problem and don’t want to admit it [as they would look like losers] or they are trying to fool the American people by these slogans to ensure them that they are fighting “terrorism” by the time they increased it.

Now what is that internal problem? It is the Iraqi government. Yes, it is! You are going to say but it is elected. Yes, it IS elected. But have you asked the Iraqi people’s opinion of that government now? Did you hear how Maliki’s motorcade was attacked in Sadr City by people throwing stones? Who did that? Weren’t they the people whom he was elected by? Why don’t they like him now? Did you ask yourself why? They believe in their clerics militias now more than Maliki, his government and the parliament. Simply because Sadr and his militia are more powerful than Maliki. People always look for the powerful to be protected.

The government let the people down. Maliki is only a puppet and a mouthpiece of Bush. His government is only a face of fake democracy Bush claims he brought to Iraq. It is corrupt from head to toe. Militiamen are members of the security forces. They kill whoever they like and however they like, mostly by torturing the hostage first. They are not loyal to Iraq. Their loyalty is addicted to their clerics like Abdul Aziz al-Hakim and Muqtada al-Sadr.

What about the parliament? It is even worse than the government itself. Sunni politicians who were involved with insurgency-whether Iraqi or foreign- are no better than the Shiites who always defend their militias like the Mahdi Army and the Badr Troops. Well-known parliament members are known of their loyalty to these insurgents. The Iraqi Islamic Party, Adnan al-Dulaimi [who was behind Jill’s kidnapping], Salih al-Mutlaq, Mishaan al-Jubouri [whose banned channel broadcast footage of insurgency fighting in Iraq and songs of the former regime] and of course, Tariq al-Hashimi who is now the Vice President of the country.

What a blend of thieves, thugs and criminals running Iraq!

What about the secular politicians? Where are they? Probably enjoying the chilly weather in Britain or the U.S. using their second nationality. I used to like Allawi as he seemed to be a good leader. But where is he now? Why did he disappear? Where is Chalabi? Oh I forgot! He stole millions of dollars and went to enjoy them in his second country.

I exclude some secular members who really want to solve the problems but they are powerless among the hundreds of Shiite and Sunni fighting and hateful members. I’ve seen them arguing and exchanging insults when I covered some of their sessions in Baghdad. You may think this is democracy. If this democracy divides my country and kills my people, I don’t want it. Take it back and bring me back my life and my unified Iraq.

I do hope from the bottom of my heart that we revolt against this new, oppressive regime and restore our Iraq back. I know this would never happen because those who think like me are either killed by these militias and insurgents or had to leave the country after receiving death threats.

baghdadtreasure@gmail.com