By Cathy Breen
Voices in the Wilderness
Baghdad
October 12, 2003

Dear Friends,

Last night was a restless time. Besides getting up every couple of hours to check to see if water was coming into the house from the street so that we could pump some into the house tank, there was a great deal of shooting going on. At one point Cynthia and I retreated hastily inside as about 5 male figures appeared on the roof that looks down on ours from across the street. A full moon made us feel like sitting ducks! After a while our imaginations and suspicions calmed down and we decided to return to our mats on the roof.

There has been a marked increase in the number of attacks these last days. The Iraqi police and civilians are being targeted now, and a Spanish correspondent was killed this past week. A trusted friend of ours dropped by in the afternoon. He said that “the American troops have no idea of the Iraqi reality or society . . . the governing council is no longer effective, and they have a bias toward the Americans . . . People are losing patience and are just waiting. It is worse now. The next 2 months, he feels, will be decisive. . .

In the evening another friend stopped by. The day had been busy and I felt very weary. The visit went on for two hours, maybe even three. But as we spoke my initial tiredness was replaced by a new surge of energy and hope. The house was unusually still, everyone seemed to be gone, and we were able to speak without any distractions. This friend had been at a press conference held by Bremer the day before, and he was actually able to ask some questions. I’m afraid that my account is a poor one at best given that we were speaking in English. At the press conference our friend was fortunately able to speak in Arabic with English translation.

Apparently at the beginning of the conference a message from Bush was relayed via satellite onto a screen. Bush said something to the effect that “We are bringing democracy to the Middle East.” This friend prefaced his first question by repeating Bush’s words. He then asked “If the countries in the Middle East are primarily Muslim and wish to choose Islamic rules and specifically Iraq in its Constitution–would you allow this?” He also addressed the question of what will happen if the Governing Council doesn’t want Turkish troops in the country? Another point he made was that there exists no option to work outside of the governing council’s structure, one that has been divided up into sectors or parties. Our friend likened this structure to the Baath party system where no options were allowed. One has to join a party.

More and more I am coming to understand that this “dividing up” of the council into sectors, with the idea being that democracy must be served, is a concept alien and foreign in the Arab world and culture. It is seen by some as a superimposed tactic intended to actually cause division and foment civil war.

“The only change we have experienced is this: America has taken the cotton out of our mouths that Sadaam Hussein put there. We can speak now. But, they [the Americans] have put it in their ears!” What an astute observation. To date I have heard no better description of how unable and inept the occupation forces are at really listening to what Iraqis are trying to say!

A woman from Najaf (a very holy Muslem site) and her neighbor came to visit us this past week. I will call her Zaneb and her neighbor Ali. I had met Zaneb at an internet center when she approached me through one of the fellows there to ask me about U.S. visa procedures. Her sister is currently in Amman, Jordan and is married to an Iraqi living in the states. After speaking briefly we decided to go together the next day to the U.S. consul. That visit took place as planned, a pretty straightforward matter of getting information. Aware that Zaneb had lost a child in the First Gulf war and that her home had been destroyed as a result of the recent bombing, I was hoping we could arrange to meet at a future date. I have become friendly with the receptionist at the British consul, and she readily agreed to come and to translate for us after work. I found out later that she herself is a Christian.

The day and hour arrived when everyone was gathered at our kitchen table. Zaneb’s story began in l990. Her then 14 year daughter was standing next to an oil heater which exploded when a bomb hit. How hard it was for us to listen to this mother’s account. But how much more difficult for her to have to relive the pain of those tragic events! Zaneb and Ali continued. A portable radar system to detect planes was used at night by the Iraq army on the street where they lived. This would be removed in the daytime. This explained the heavy bombing of their neighborhood. On one particular day they were heavily bombed three consecutive times. Many were killed and wounded, their homes destroyed.

They both identified housing accommodations as one of the biggest problems they currently face. Since the occupation, Iraqis who had left are returning and wanting their homes back. Rent is increasing and many people are living in schools, government offices, etc. The government is coming back and throwing people out. People are just living outside. Ali said, “We just want a normal life, not to have to worry about life. If we worked, we could live.”

We asked about the tragic killing of the religious leader Mohammed Bakr Al Hakiim on Aug 29th in Najaf. Ali said that he had gone to the mosque an hour after the bomb explosion as his cousin had gone there to pray. He never found him. Over 500 people ultimately died as a result of that attack. “Before Sadaam Hussein there were no barriers between Shia and Suni. A Sunni himself, Sadaam prevented the Shia from following their traditions.” Ali felt that this year Ramadan will be different. “Now maybe we will have real holy days.”

At the risk of this letter becoming too lengthy and losing your attention, I want to include some excerpts from a piece entitled ‘Pilgrimage’ that a friend new to our house wrote at my encouragement. He dropped it off last night and Cynthia and I were reading it this morning. I will call him Faiz. He is a friend of another friend who first brought him around to the house. I will let him tell his own story.

On Monday, September 22, there was a special occasion for the Shia. It was the anniversary of the death of one of their most adored Imams: Mousa Al-Kazim. He died poisoned in prison by orders from Haroon Al-Rashid, the well known Abbasid caliph and tyrant. That was more than twelve centuries ago. His death is very tragic because he spent more than ten years in the prisons of Al-Rashid and was posing no threat. After his death, he was put in a coffin and left on what was known then as the Baghdad bridge. When the Shiite knew about their Imam’s status and whereabouts, they hurried in a massive gathering, took his coffin in a portly funeral and buried him in the place where millions now visit him each year. It seems that from this incident that the Shiite feel it is their duty to participate in a simulated funeral in each anniversary. So they go to his shrine on foot.

This is the fifth time in a row that I have participated in this ceremony. The only difference this year is that the Saddam regime is no more. But that makes a whole lot of difference. This year, more than one million persons participated. It was impossible for anyone not to make comparisons with the last occasions. That is because Saddam used to stifle such practices, for he feared all types of gatherings tremendously. So it is easy to see how he felt when hundreds of thousands of the dreaded Shiites who feel the same hatred towards him gathered without being summoned, despite all his terrorizing tactics that tried to put them off their aim.

It was a fine weather that Monday. Sunshine with the searing heat that prevailed a month ago much receded. It is still hot during the noon, but for Iraqis this heat is tolerable compared to July and August’s heat. I met my friend [we’ll call him Yassir] at the tip of our block. We went to the holy shrine of Al-Kazim this time each year on foot together. We started at 8:15am. The first difference that we noticed is that conspicuous groups could be seen walking with their flags and slogans. That was almost impossible before the liberation of Iraq, except in the neighborhoods to the holy shrine. This year there had been announcements from mosques about walking in groups starting from certain locations in each neighborhood at an early hour in the morning. Such announcements were also impossible before. When I say ‘impossible’ I mean that doing such a thing would mean that the ‘perpetrator’ would be captured and detained. If he was lucky he would be released in about a month. Otherwise his folks would be lucky if they found his corpse in a massive grave.

We started from our district, Karradah through Saadoon St., Tahrir Sq . . . across Aemah bridge and into Kazimiyah district. On the way, a number of slogans written by Baathists could be seen on some walls. The writings are painted and scratched over, but they are still discernable. These slogans say things like: “Long live the father of the martyrs, the hero and leader Saddam.” “With our souls and blood we sacrifice for you Saddam.” “We’ll be back.” These slogans are very irritating because they indicate how the Baathists are still working. If some of them are only writing slogans on the walls, then others are spreading rumors that encourage disturbances, attacking the American troops and Iraqi police, assassinating political leaders, sabotaging the civil services like electricity, oil pipes and water pipes.

It is our custom, I mean Yassir’s and mine–to go from Ferdaus Sq. to Abu Nawas St. from between the hotels of Sheraton and Meridan. But that road is now blocked completely by American tanks. In addition, both sides of Abu Nawas St. is now closed from near the building of the Iraqi Media Network. In fact, we thought that Saddam’s security measures were very exaggerated until we saw the American security measures. But these measures do not make us feel as bad as we used to during Saddam’s reign. That is because the Americans build them to defend themselves from terrorists, not to terrorize people as was the case with the former regime.

Our next stop for rest is Yassir’s shop, a small textile shop. Because we didn’t stop before, we reached it at 9:45am, but when we got there he found out that he didn’t bring the keys with him. So, we set off again. A little later he showed me some bookstores which sell all that used to be prohibited during Saddam’s reign. Usually these are religious books. Most of the books have nothing to do with politics. Nevertheless Saddam prohibited them because he was the enemy of religion. He used to show off piously as if he was a deeply religious person. But in effect, he fought religion, especially the Shiite cult. Trade or possession of such books meant about six months in the fearful disciplinary prisons of the Iraqi intelligence. The stories we heard about the tenants of these prisons make any horror story or movie look like a bedtime story. We watched the titles of books that we have heard about so much for authors that have been executed. But the thing that I couldn’t resist buying was some volumes in the series of Nancy Drew. I like these stories and my niece, who is 17, is learning to read stories in English. So, I thought Nancy Drew like stories would appeal to her at her age, if she can read them. I bought four volumes for about 25 cents each.

Taking turns in carrying this new load, we resumed our walk. By now, greater numbers of bigger groups of pilgrims could be seen no matter where we turned our heads. They come now with their green flags and slogan sheets, and sometimes with loudspeakers in the hands of some poet reading a mourning poem in a beautiful tune that makes the pilgrims cry and slap their chests with their hands in a rhythmic tempo in the well known Shiite way, which is used to express grief.

When we reached Anter Sq. we saw what my cousin had told me about. It was impossible for a car to go through these masses, who occupied both sides of the street. So even if one didn’t want to go on foot, after Anter Sq. one had to walk. In Adamiyah, we had to hold each other’s hands, so we wouldn’t lose each other. If that happened, it was practically impossible to find one another again that day. Adamiyah is a Sunni district. In the previous years when we went through Adamiyah, it was a normal market, with all shops open and ordinary people going both ways, in cars and on foot. This year Adamiyah was entirely different. Almost all shops were closed. Few people were watching the pilgrims. The rest were all heading towards the bridge. By now one had to hear some mourning poem, because there were so many of them now. One poet was reciting a lovely poem, the chorus of which said, “God’s curse be on Saddam and the bastard Baathists.” The pilgrims were participating in it enthusiastically. When the poet finished his poem and tried to begin another one, there were shouts from everywhere, asking him to repeat his poem.

The books I was carrying made me get frisked about 10 times that day, for they attracted attention. At last we reached the holy shrine of Mosa Al-Kazim and his grandson Mohammed Al-Jawad. It was 1:00pm. At the outer gates we were frisked one last time. It was at the gates of the inner courtyard that one had to take off one’s footwear and leave it at an attendant like the coat and hat person that used to be in restaurants and other public places during the last century in the west. We had a hard time giving our shoes to an attendant because of the tens of thousands of pairs left there that they were too overloaded. We noticed that the walls of the inner courtyard were not present. Obviously this is a preparation for enlarging it. Its about time someone did it because the last time it was enlarged was a few centuries ago.

Now we had to remember how it was during the last few anniversaries. Where are Saddam’s security forces, who used to control our movements inside the shrine? They used to close the inner door to the tomb to keep us out. We were able to take a visiting book from the shoe-man. Then, to our surprise, we found that there are a lot of books inside. There were also copies of a very important Shiite religious book, “Paradise Keys.” Finding Paradise Keys in our holy shrines was an absolute impossibility. Now, we find them in front of us on the shelves. We read the visiting verse in which we praise our Imam and describe him as the most religious person of his time. Then we prayed. After that we went to the tomb room and were able finally to touch the groined bars. We feel that we have made an accomplishment when we hold the bars and talk to our Imams. We know that they can hear our talk. A lot of miraculous events have happened.

In the past years, we went at this time each year because we knew that what we were doing is making Saddam and his followers die in anger. We felt that we were actually doing something to reject Saddam. This year we are getting back to the more religious reasons; that Al-Kazim deserves from us to go to him on foot, for he wasn’t served well when he died. But we cannot get Saddam out of our minds, for he affected our lives in a way no one had done before. I still hear a slogan that the pilgrims were repeating, and which I repeated with them fervently, going on and on inside of me, “This is Musa, where is Saddam and his prisons?”

Maybe this story (I’m reprinting only about � of it for you) will help give us some insight into the complex situation that people face here. It is the story of one man’s reflection, and I am so pleased to be able to pass it on to you.

Just a few more paragraphs and I promise I will bring this to an end.
Earlier that afternoon Cynthia, Abdula, myself and Abu Mohammed (our taxi driver) had spent a lovely few hours at the home of a friend who used to work in housekeeping at the Al Fanar hotel. We were invited to eat with them, and our friend’s wife, their 2 year old daughter and a cousin of the father were present. The little girl–their only child–is in dire need of a heart operation. As circumstances would have it we had the name of an NGO from the U.K. that specializes in children’s heart surgeries that we put them in contact with. The cousin, we found out, is married to an Iraqi who has lived in Tennessee for some 7 years. She is understandably eager to join him in the states. This morning I went with this lovely young woman to the U.S. consul so that she could hear for herself what the situation is in terms of visas and immigration to the states. Abu Mohammed took me in the taxi. He was touched that this young woman wanted to join her husband in the states. It seems there is a man here who would be happy for her to divorce and to marry him.

But I am getting away from my story. As Cynthia and I sat together in a circle with this family in their home, we felt like royalty. Thanks to Abdula who translated so graciously for us, we were able for the first time to converse with Abu Mohammed. We shared not only a meal together, but many thoughts, questions and concerns. As we drove home, Abu Mohammed spoke with great animation to us through Abdula. He related that any people in the neighborhood ask him about us and who we are. Clearly he felt he had come to know us better through the hours we’d spent together. And it seemed that his impression was a favorable one.

We remain under suspicion. Our work and purpose is questioned by the neighbors. The presence of the newspaper downstairs with all of their comings and goings seems to make us more susceptible to suspicion. We are currently meeting as a team here and in discussion with the Chicago office, to discern if and how to continue on here. We need your prayers more than ever before. Love cathy

Just this afternoon, Oct. 12th, there was an explosion and I left this letter to go out on the roof. There was a puff of black smoke in the east above the city buildings. I heard that the Baghdad hotel, which is just a couple of blocks from the Al Fanar hotel, had been hit.