Friday, December 15, 2017

Iraq: A Love Story: excerpt from book

Iraq: A Love Story (working title): 
an excerpt (table of contents and preface)



Crime Against Humanity (Life Under Sanctions)

1.     Getting There (and Back)

Operation Desert Storm                                                        
On the Way                                                                            
Call to Prayer                                                                        
            The Road to Baghdad                                                            
            Tilting at Windmills                           

2.  “Jesus Suffering with the People of Iraq during Sanctions”

           Parable of the Date Palm                                           

3.  “Lilies of Light in a Hand Held High”

            Zeena with Hazel Eyes                                              
            Gazelles at Night                                                       
            City of Children                                                                                                         

4. “The Hand That Frees the Flower”

            Family Dinner                                                            
            Paper and Pencils                                                       
            The Sewing Machine                                                 
            The Television Set                                                     
            The Portrait                                                               
            The Hand That Frees the Flower                              
            Bush, War Criminal                                                                                                   

5.  “And Promise You Will Remember My Name”

           Magic and Beauty                                                      

6.  Joseph, Ibrahim, and Saad

           Ghazi, King of Iraq                                                    
           To Bethlehem                                                            
           Mackerel and Bread and a Purse of Quilted Satin        
7.  “I Don’t Count the Dead Anymore”

           Simple Gifts                                                               
          “I Don’t Count the Dead Anymore”                         
           Tales of the Heart                                                      
           “They Are All of Them Going to be Dead”                                                              
           Stopping to Buy Melons on the Side of the Road    
           In a Manger                                                                

8.  “Still We Live”

          Quiet Diplomacy                                                       
          Daily Bread                                                                
          In the Home of Umm Haidar                                     
          Christmas Eve in Basra                                              
          “Still We Live”                                                                                                           

Return of the Mongols (Invasion and Occupation)

9.  Prelude to a Killing

            The River Ran Blue (a day and a night through Baghdad)                                         
            Letter from an Iraqi Girl                                            
            Letter to My Wife                                                     
            Of Teddy Bears and Toys and Coffee in a Cage       
            Umm Aida Speaks of Her Pet Canaries After a Sun-filled Seminar on the Impact of 
            Dante’s Inferno on John Milton’s Paradise Lost
            “I Went to Church on Saturday”                               
            Boston to Baghdad: The Longest Bridge in the World                                              

10.  Defending the World from “Grave Danger”

            George Bush Announces the Start of the Iraq War   
            Iraq Journal: Selections                                              
            For Nadia                                                                   
            Selections from Stations of the Cross                        
            Civil War                                                                    
            Through Iraqi Eyes: Invasion and Occupation          
            Flowers of Evil, Flowers of Peace                             

Shelter from the War (Iraqi Refugees in Jordan)

11.  “Bombing, Fire. . . . We Have Lost Everything”

"I Didn’t Want to Hurt or Kill Anyone”
Butterfly Wings and Pickled Vegetables                    
The Dinosaur                                                             
The Magical, Disappearing Scarf                               
Gardenias and Jasmine                                               
“Life Is Always Beautiful”      
Conclusion: “Life Is Always Beautiful II”                            
Postscript: In the Aftermath of War and Occupation                       
Chronology of the Author’s Iraq Activism                           
About the Author                                                                                                                  


While serving as his country’s ambassador in Madrid during the Spanish Civil War (1936-39), the great Chilean poet Pablo Neruda witnessed the bloody fighting between the Republicans, supported by the Soviet Union and volunteer fighters from Europe and the United States, and the Nationalists, backed by Italian and German fascists. In one of his poems — “I’m Explaining a Few Things” — he describes scenes of violent destruction (perhaps in response to the bombing of Guernica, a town in northern Spain) wrought by warplanes on the Nationalist side:

came through the sky to kill children
and the blood of children ran through the streets
without fuss, like children's blood.

Later in the poem, Neruda answers those who might ask why he could no longer write about “dreams and leaves/and the great volcanoes of his native land”:

Come and see the blood in the streets.
Come and see
The blood in the streets.
Come and see the blood
In the streets!

      In 1997 I went to Iraq to “see the blood in the streets,” the blood of the children of Iraq killed not by warplanes but by the equally lethal bombs and blades of economic sanctions. The blood I saw were their emaciated bodies curled up on filthy mattresses in hospitals bereft of ample cleaning supplies and the most basic medicines and equipment necessary for the care of infants and children. The blood I saw were the faces of mothers and grandmothers in black sitting beside their children, holding their hands, wiping their brows, and pleading with drawn looks and empty eyes for mercy. The blood I saw were the cold, windswept cancer wards where afflicted children, with families by their side, received at best only palliative care and in the absence of life-saving drugs, waited to die. On neonatal wards, incubators often held two prematurely born infants, wrapped in blankets in a non-sterile environment, because there weren’t enough incubators, and those in service were usually broken, lacking a temperature-control device. Consequently, mothers had to stand watch over the incubators and monitor the temperature.

The sorry conditions in most of the public hospitals I visited throughout Iraq were the result of sanctions, which curtailed Iraq’s ability to import the spare parts necessary to repair and maintain medical equipment like incubators, or to purchase complete drug protocols for cancer patients of all ages as well as cannulas with needles appropriate for children.

These were the very same children whose inevitable deaths were “worth it,” according to Madeleine Albright, former U.S. Ambassador to the UN, during her interview with journalist Lesley Stahl in 1996. In Iraq I saw with a clarity that changed the course of my life the blood- and pain-filled meaning of words — like “keeping Saddam in a box” — bandied about by politicians and commentators to justify a set of cruel, genocidal policies.

After that first trip to Iraq, I came home feeling angry, depressed, quick to snap at anyone I felt was the least bit unsympathetic to the reality of life under sanctions. I knew I had to reinvent my life by becoming an advocate for the people of Iraq whose undeserved suffering I had witnessed. This book and the experiences I am writing about are one more expression of the advocacy I have practiced for nearly two decades.

I hope my book will inspire others to speak out against injustices, to be in solidarity with those who are oppressed or marginalized, and to oppose not only the policies that violate our common humanity but the underlying values, beliefs, and ideology that would sacrifice human life and happiness to the exigencies of power. The anger I initially felt has neither disappeared nor dissipated. Rather, it has deepened, become a clear, ever-flowing stream whose ultimate source, I believe, is love. Pure and simple love, as I hope these pages will reveal.

Monday, September 9, 2013

Iraq, for the Record

The situation in Iraq has scarcely improved since the end of the US occupation. If anything, it is getting worse. Monthly death tolls from car bombs and other forms of terrorist attacks have reached levels not seen since the height of sectarian violence in 2006-07. This past July, according to the United Nations, "1,057 Iraqis were killed and 2,326 were wounded. . .the highest monthly casualty figures since 2008." 

Besides the constant threat of violent death, shortages of electricity and clean water continue to make life unnecessarily difficult for many Iraqis. The following eyewitness report shows all too clearly what has become of Iraq in the aftermath of invasion and occupation:
"Despite Iraq being rich in natural resources and the US pouring money into its economy for over a decade, Iraqi infrastructure is constantly failing and the people are forced to beg . . .

"In spite of billions of dollars spent on reconstruction following the decade-long conflict, many neighborhoods lack sewerage systems and trash collection services. In some settlements, there are barely any streets. Water is also a big problem, locals pointed out: 'Nobody drinks the city water because we know it’s not clean. Since the war, I’ve had to rely on bottled water. What comes out of the tap is contaminated and makes us sick. How can we drink it?'

"Central power is another issue, with the system sometimes on for as little as two hours a day. Electrician from Baghdad Abu Meria is sure the new government is to blame for the chaos that reigning in his homeland: 'It's the citizens who suffer in the end, not the government. The services are so bad and the power system has really deteriorated. There were billions spent on fixing the grid but there’s little to show for it.'
 An Iraqi child sits next to a garbage dump and running sewege outside his family home in Baghdad's poor neighbourhood of Hay Ur. (AFP Photo)
An Iraqi child sits next to a garbage dump and running sewege outside his family home in Baghdad's poor neighbourhood of Hay Ur. (AFP Photo)

"On the backdrop of this, most Iraqis remain impoverished, struggling to make their ends meet. In the Al Tajiat landfill, on the outskirts of Baghdad, people are actually forced to live – without any proper living conditions: 'There are no schools for the kids here, no electricity, no real houses. To get a drink of water we have to travel 4km. It’s very difficult to live here.'

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

New Website Up and Running

Readers of this blog can now visit my website where I am showcasing my work as a storyteller and a writer. The URL is

For the record, I continue to raise money for families in Baghdad. Despite the end of the US occupation of Iraq, basic services in that country are still inadequate. And escalating food prices, high levels of unemployment, and the ever-present threat of violence by extremists and armed thugs  continue to make life extremely difficult for ordinary Iraqis. As always, donations to the Family Relief Fund are more than welcome.

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Original Paintings by Amal Maseer, Iraqi Artist

These four samples of Amal's artistry are part of a much larger collection of her work. Her paintings (oil on canvas) are for sale. Prices range from 25-35 dollars depending on size. The smaller paintings are about 9x11 inches. The larger ones are about 10x12 inches. By purchasing one of her remarkable paintings, you will be helping her and her family survive in the U.S. where they have come as refugees to escape the violence in Iraq. All profits from the sale of her work return to her. You can place an order by phoning me at 781-641-9846.  I will then mail you the painting (s). Checks can be made payable to Family Relief Fund (with "Amal" written on the memo line) and and sent to my home address at 11 Lennon Road, Arlington, MA 02474. 


Monday, March 8, 2010

Benefit Concert for the Families

On Saturday evening, March 6 2010, Arlington United for Justice with Peace presented a fundraising event for the Iraq Family Relief Fund. Billed as a coffeehouse, the event took place in a large hall in the Calvary United Methodist Church here in Arlington, MA where I live. We received donated urns of coffee plus trays of pastries from local bakeries. A technician from our local cable station handled the sound system, and our emcee for the evening is the community outreach coordinator for that station. So all in all it was a very homegrown affair.

Our featured performer was Ben Tousley, an exceptionally talented musician who has been writing and singing his own songs for quite some time. He was accompanied by two members of Woodwork, an ensemble of socially conscious acoustic musicians who have done a lot of performing at the Peace Abbey in Sherborn, MA.  The group is committed to helping out worthy progressive causes by donating their performances. Also on the bill was Chris Nauman, a member of Arlington United for Justice with Peace as well as a doctor. Lately, he's been giving more and more attention to his music and plans on cutting his first CD later this year. Chris was joined on stage by Ken Selcer, an excellent guitarist and another longtime peace activist.

We started the show with a virtuoso performance by Linda Schiffman. She had the audience spellbound with her world-class whistling. Yes, you read me correctly. Whistling! Linda took first place in the 2008 whistling competition held in Tokyo. For our coffeehouse, she performed an aria from Puccini's
Tosca, a few cabaret-style songs, and works by Vivaldi and Mozart.

About 75 people attended the coffeehouse which brought in about $800.00 in donations. Most of this money will go directly to my families in Baghdad, who continue to need support as they struggle with unemployment, inflation, poverty, and the ever-present threat of violence.

Friday, December 18, 2009

Witnessing the Iraqi Refugee Crisis in Amman

On August 9, 2009, nearly seven years since my last trip to the Middle East, I arrived at the Queen Alia Airport in Amman, Jordan. From there, I took a bus into the city and then a taxi to the home of Sasha Crow, the founder of Collateral Repair Project, a grassroots organization formed to connect Iraqi refugee families with social services in Amman. 

Sasha had prepared a home-cooked meal for the two of us to share as we made plans for the first day of a children’s art and culture camp. The camp was intended to bring together Iraqi, Palestinian, and Jordanian children for two weeks of creative activities. It was a joint effort of Collateral Repair Project and International Relief & Development, an NGO with offices in Amman.

Working with Omar, an Iraqi volunteer with CRP, and a team of dedicated assistants, Sasha and I launched our program the following day. Over the next two weeks, she took the lead in organizing a wonderful mix of hands on art activities for the children. Under her careful and loving attention, they created their own papier-mâché masks, drew portraits of each other, and even made a pair of treat-filled piñatas. In addition to assisting Sasha, I told Arabic folktales to the children, led them in creative movement exercises, and directed them in a dramatic enactment of a traditional tale.

For the final day of our summer camp, the children’s families were invited to come to the Women’s Center where the camp was held. After viewing a display of the art work, they watched their children perform on stage. During the show, the children wore the colorful masks they had worked so hard to create. Many of them also used the paper puppets Sasha had them make for their characters in the play. As a final celebration, the children gathered around their piñatas (one piñata at a time!) and gave them enough good whacks to break them open.

Helping to run the camp with Sasha was only part of what I did with Collateral Repair Project. In the evenings, she and Omar introduced me to some of the Iraqi refugee families CRP has been assisting. For me, these meetings were the heart and soul of my time in Amman.

I had come to Jordan hoping to hear the stories of what these families had endured in Iraq and what their lives were like in Amman. Upon returning to the U.S., I planned to share these stories, through articles and talks, in order to raise awareness of the consequences of the U.S. invasion and occupation. Thanks to CRP, I was able to meet quite a number of families from a variety of backgrounds. For this entry, I would like to recount one such meeting as an example of the very high price these families have had to pay and of the good work CRP is doing. The text is from my journal, which I kept up the whole time I was in Amman. (I have not used the real names of the family members.)

“Tonight we visited another family whom Sasha cares deeply about. The family is Assyrian and comes from Baghdad, although their roots are in Anbar, which is north of the capital. James met us on the street that runs past his building, and then took us up a short flight of stairs to his family’s apartment. His sister Miriam and his elderly mother Hajia were sitting in the front room watching TV. CRP, through donations, was able to purchase a prosthetic leg for James’s sister. Since then, they have come to feel very close to Sasha, whom they regard as their saving grace.

“James calls Sasha his sister. His mother considers Sasha her daughter. Hajia is only 81 but she looks much older. After her husband died, she had to raise their children by herself. In Iraq the family lived in Baghdad Jadida (New Baghdad), where many Iraqi Christians once lived before they were driven from their homes.

“The family has successfully completed all their interviews with IOM (the International Organization for Migration) and expect to be resettled in the state of New York. But they don’t know when their plane tickets will arrive. Their home is practically bare of furniture. A few decorative items adorn the walls. In the parlor, there are some Christian iconic images along with paintings of English royalty. James’s mother named her two sons after British kings. The namesake of one of her daughters was a British queen.

“At one point during our conversation, James said all they have left is Jesus. Everything else in their lives has been taken away from them. He spat out the name of Saddam Hussein and, stretching out his arm, shouted, “Go to Hell! He destroyed everything.”

“James did agree that under Saddam, Christian minorities were safer and not likely to be persecuted, but still discrimination did exist. Before the war in 2003, he and his non-Christian neighbors were friends. But after the war, everything changed. People threatened him, told him to leave Iraq or they would kill him.

“Last fall in Baghdad, while shopping in the market, James’s sister Miriam became the victim of a car bombing. She had to have part of her right leg amputated. She also lost hearing in her right ear. She had been a secondary school teacher for 27 years. Her subject was mathematics. Several of her students were killed from the same bomb that disabled her for life. Shrapnel tore into her body. She pulled up the left leg of her trousers and showed us several deep scars from the shrapnel. While brother and sister described this tragic event, their mother Hajia, with a look of such deep sadness, openly wept for her daughter’s pain and suffering.

“Miriam spent 3 weeks in Al Kindi Hospital in Baghdad. Surgeons amputated the lower part of her leg but left a bony stump. In November, about a month after the bombing, the family left for Jordan. In Amman, Miriam received a heavy prosthetic leg, which she and Sasha refer to as the “dinosaur.” It hurts her to wear it. Now she has a lighter prosthetic which she saves for special occasions like going to church. Miriam is afraid it will be damaged on the many broken steps and fractured pavements in Amman. She knows it is strong and durable, but it has become so important to her that she doesn’t want to take any unnecessary risks with it. Around the house, she wears a third prosthetic. This one doesn’t fit well and causes her unrelenting pain.

“When Sasha first met her, Miriam never went outside and, without a prosthetic, crawled from room to room, becoming more and more depressed. Now her mood has brightened considerably, and she was able to talk freely with us. She showed us photos of her former students, her colleagues, and even her college graduating class.

“James smoked furiously while an Assyrian TV station showed the carnage from yesterday’s car bombings in Mosul and Baghdad. He changed the channel. The screen came alive with Assyrian singers and musicians performing while young people did traditional dances. Pointing to the television, James said, “This our people. This our music, our dances.” Tears filled his eyes. It was this moment, perhaps more than any other, that gave me a deeper sense of what it means to be separated from one’s homeland, one’s culture, and one’s family, and to face an almost unbearably uncertain future.

“James had been an agricultural engineer in Baghdad after graduating from Baghdad University. He showed us his transcript and proudly pointed to his grades. He hopes this document will improve his chances in the U.S., and wanted to know if he would be able to advance himself there. I recalled my own family and how my grandfather had come from Italy with nothing. By the time I was in high school, my own parents had advanced far beyond my father’s family. This seemed to offer some assurance to Edward whose love for his aged mother was so evident throughout our stay. He often stood by her side as she sat on the sofa with hands folded in her lap, and touched her ever so gently while thanking God for keeping her alive.

“When it was time for Sasha and I to leave, James followed us down an unlit stairway and along an alley to the street. Like a good shepherd, he watched over us until a taxi stopped and took us home.”

Seaonal Appeal

To all those known and unknown readers of this blog, I send this sincere apology for not keeping it up to date. And I include a bouquet of seasonal good wishes for that ever-elusive peace on Earth and goodwill to all.

This morning I left the house with three urgent messages on my answering machine. The messages were from my families in Iraq. I would like to report that their lives are slowly improving now that the "civil war" has diminished, security has improved, and U.S. troops have pulled back somewhat. Sadly, that is not the case. Five of the six families currently supported by the Iraq Family Relief Fund are headed by poor women whose husbands have either died or abandoned them. None of these women have been able to find any sort of work or to develop a small, sustaining business.

Each time we speak with one another they invariably begin by apologizing for once again having to ask for help. It's not like they are asking for inordinate sums of money. All they want is enough to pay the rent, put food on the table, and cover any medical costs that come up. In these respects, their situation is quite similar to what so many U.S. families are experiencing under current economic conditions.

But there are important differences. For one thing, Iraq remains one of the most dangerous places on Earth.In just this month alone, car bombers in Iraq's capital murdered over 120 people and wounded hundreds more. Even more alarming, at least to my mind, is the continuing rise in birth defects and cancer throughout Iraq, but particularly in the cities of Falluja and Basra. While the link between DU and cancer and birth defects has not been unequivocally established, Iraqi doctors attribute this rise to the use of weapons containing depleted uranium (DU) by the U.S. and its British ally. In the first Gulf War of 1991, about 320 tons of DU were used. In the second Gulf War of 2003 an unknown amount of DU was used. According to a recent report in Global Research,

In September this year . . . 170 children were born at Fallujah General Hospital, 24 per cent of whom died within seven days. Three-quarters of these exhibited deformities, including "children born with two heads, no heads, a single eye in their foreheads, or missing limbs". The comparable data for August 2002 -- before the invasion -- records 530 births, of whom six died and only one of whom was deformed.
Our families in Baghdad live with the ever-present threat of death from car bombs, with a shattered infrastructure, a dearth of jobs, and the rising cost of food, clothing, and shelter. One of the families has called me multiple times this week to tell me how cold their apartment is. They would like to buy a heater but can't afford the price, which would be around 100 dollars. Another family has a heater but can't afford to purchase fuel for the heater, which runs on kerosene. A third family is without food and can't pay the rent (300 dollars) without our assistance.

Unfortunately, donations are not what they could be, so I am unable to help any of these families until I receive help. On a more upbeat note, the family of Amal Maseer, the Iraqi artist, is doing well in their new home in New Paltz, New York. The family has been living with their American sponsor since they came here as refugees last March. They would like to move into a subsidized apartment in New Paltz but can't do so until they pay 500 dollars to the managers of the apartment complex. This amount will cover the repair of damages done by the previous tenants. For the life of me, I don't understand why Amal is expected to pay for someone else's wrongdoing.

So in the spirit of the season and for the sake of these families, please consider making a donation to the Iraq Family Relief Fund. Your contributions will go immediately to relieve their most urgent needs for a way to keep warm through a Baghdad winter, for enough to eat, and for keeping a roof over their heads.