Since 2012, I've been working on a book about my experiences in Iraq and their relevance to ongoing US policies in the Middle East. The book is a blending of nonfiction stories, political analysis, and history.
Thanks to the money I raised from a GoFundMe campaign, I was able to afford the services of a professional editor whose suggestions and criticisms I am still addressing as of today's posting (October 11, 2018). What follows is the latest iteration of the book's table of contents and the book's preface.
Iraq: Confronting America's Murderous Reign (working title):
an excerpt (table of contents and preface)
Contents
Preface
Introduction
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
Return
2.
“Jesus Suffering with the People of Iraq during Sanctions”
Rose
Revelations
Parable of the Date Palm
Dreams
3.
“Lilies of Light in a Hand Held High”
Kareem
Zeena with Hazel Eyes
Fatima
Gazelles at Night
City of Children
4. “The Hand That Frees the Flower”
Family
Dinner
Homecoming
Paper and Pencils
The Sewing Machine
The Television Set
Al-Eid
The Portrait
The Hand That Frees the Flower
Bush, War Criminal
5.
“And Promise You Will Remember My Name”
Magic and
Beauty
Christmas
6.
Joseph, Ibrahim, and Saad
Storyteller
Ghazi, King of Iraq
To Bethlehem
Mackerel and Bread and a Purse
of Quilted Satin
7. “I
Don’t Count the Dead Anymore”
Mercy
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
Faith
8.
“Still We Live”
Interlude
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
Pietà
Civil War
Through Iraqi Eyes: Invasion
and Occupation
Flowers of Evil, Flowers of
Peace
Pilgrimage
Shelter from the War (Iraqi Refugees in Jordan)
11. “Bombing, Fire. . . . We Have Lost
Everything”
Majeeda
"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
Notes
About the Author
Preface
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.