Bringing Democracy and Freedom To Iraq
Here’s your “democracy,” your “freedom.” Here’s the voice of a “liberated” Iraqi – a female pediatric oncologist – who’s just so darned thankful for all the
democracy and freedom and luxury bombs and death and lies spewed by our President and his merry band of minions, and all their culpable cohorts in DC and across America, speaking at Firedoglake this past Sunday evening:
Stop telling lies to yourself American. We know that your racist brutal murdering war criminal troops came from your society and reflect its values. we know that because we see how they behave and have to bury their victims. If you are stupid enough to think we feel anything but hatred and contrempt for your soldiers and the country that sent them to make war on my people then you are a fool.
As to Saddam bad though he was your country is far worse.
But, hey. Don’t worry about it. Keep your eyes firmly glued on Dancing with the Stars or Rock of Love with Bret Michaels or American Idol or whatever overly-primped and highly-plucked shiny objects – in microscopic clothing, with large plastic breasts – strut across the screen. Believe everything you read in the newspapers and everything you hear on television about how we’re “winning” and how Democrats who want this war to end are “emboldening” the enemy.
Ignore the voice of Dr. Maryam:
There has been no electricity none in more than half of Baghdad for 10 days. In the rest of Baghdad 1 to 1½ hours per day. [link]
The problem in Irak is the presence of the invaders. It is not possible to even begin to reconstruct until that problem is solved. The violence is because the American invader is there. Not despite it. If as you claim, you want to help, then you tackle the root problem. Which is that your troops are in our country. Until then the violence will escalate. The attacks are to make the country ungovernable and they are working. [link]
Continue stuffing your faces with far too much food while complaining about how much weight you’ve gained. Be sure to enjoy the good night’s sleep you get as the cold breeze of your ever-humming air conditioning wafts over your comfy bed with its pillow-top mattress.
Ignore the voice of Mohammed Ibn Laith, 16-year-old nephew of Dr. Maryam:
[February 2007] When I heard the bomb explode last Saturday the first thing I did was telephone my father. But there was no reply. Again and again and again I tried to phone him. My fingers hurt I stabbed them onto the buttons on my phone so hard. I fell onto the floor and prayed please let him not be dead. Please let it be that he died quick if he is dead.
And my heart was sick inside me.
What will we talk about today you and I? I do not want to talk about last Saturday. Shall we talk about peace? I would like to talk about peace. I love the word. No, perhaps we are not ready to talk of peace yet you and I, we are not at peace, we are not even at truce.
Does “peace” mean that your aunt does not weep as she talks of how the young couples she serves ask her after the X-Ray “Well is it a child or is it a monster?”
Feel free to indulge yourself with a new book, or a new phone, or a new DVD, or hell, even a doctor’s appointment. Feel free to buy yourself some Band-Aids or Preparation H or a bottle of water or the newest issue of some gossip rag. Feel free to drive yourself to an over-cooled and overstocked grocery store, from which you will buy too much and – all too soon – eat too much.
Feel free to walk around your neighborhood. Wave to the neighbors sitting on their porches as the sun sets on yet another quiet, uneventful, violence-free day. Smile at the children playing in front yards, or riding their bikes. Don’t bother thinking of other families, other children, torn and shredded by bombs and guns. Don’t think of other human beings – who love as you do, feel pain as you do, cry as you do, who pray for strength and courage to survive another day without learning of a family member or friend who’s been shot or kidnapped or blown up while buying the ingredients for the evening meal.
Feel free to ignore this vow, made after the deaths of his brother, his father, and his mother – all within days of each other:
[March 10, 2007] Do not come to me talking of your feelings. Do not come to me asking for forgiveness. Who do you think you are?
I will not ever forgive or forget what your country has done to us. I will not ever forget or forgive what your country has done my family, my city, my country, my people.
My grandchildren’s, grandchildren, will teach their grandchildren to hate America for what she has done to us. Never ever ever will I, or they, forget or forgive what your barbaric country has done to us.
Feel free to continue telling yourself we’re doing this “for” the Iraqi people. Feel free to continue believing the Iraq occupation is part of some noble war. Continue voting in record numbers for the next American Idol, but feel free to sit at home and refuse to take part in the sacred privilege of voting for the leader of your country. And feel free to say – as someone tries to educate you on the realities in Iraq and here in the US, or tries to light a flame under you to reclaim your Constitutionally-given rights: “Oh, I don’t pay attention to politics.”
Don’t ask yourself, “In 60 years, will they be calling us ‘the Good Americans‘?”
It is a commonplace that at the end of WWII scarcely a Nazi or Nazi sympathizer could be found, or even anyone with an inkling that a Holocaust had been taking place. Even as rocks flew through Jewish shop windows and homes were burned, the Good Germans didn’t know. Even when Jews began disappearing in huge numbers from right under their noses, the Good Germans weren’t aware. Later on, even amongst Holocaust deniers I used to wonder if there were a mitigating percentage, however small, who as otherwise decent human beings simply could not accept the horror that human nature can be so vile. To admit the truth would be to recognize that life was essentially meaningless and insane, with suicide as the only logical course, a choice which the all-powerful instinct for self-preservation attempted to prevent. Thus self-deception for self-preservation; an unhappy compromise. It was the Nazi-exploited Nietzsche who pointed out (in the late 1800’s remember) that one must first know the truth in order to bury it. Everybody knew, in one way or another. Violence, after all, is what One-Thousand Year Reichs do, and they must start very early.
The term has come to be used to refer more generically to people in any country who observe reprehensible things taking place — whether done by a government or by another powerful institution — but remain silent, neither raising objections nor taking steps to change the course of events. [my emphasis]
Think not? Already, some of those who banged the war drum have begun retreating, like good Germans, pretending they had nothing to do with any of the death, the destruction, the despair.
“What?” they asked then. “Killing Jews?! How terrible! I didn’t know. Really, I was just a [driver, lowly private, small merchant… fill in the blank]. I didn’t really support the regime.”
May the gods have mercy on us, because history and the Iraqi people sure as hell won’t.