By Robert Fisk - 17 June 2004

They came as liberators but were met by fierce resistance outside Baghdad. Humiliating treatment of prisoners and heavy-handed action in Najaf and Fallujah further alienated the local population. A planned handover of power proved unworkable. Britain’s 1917 occupation of Iraq holds uncanny parallels with today - and if we want to know what will happen there next, we need only turn to our history books…

On the eve of our “handover” of “full sovereignty” to Iraq, this is a story of tragedy and folly and of dark foreboding. It is about the past-made-present, and our ability to copy blindly and to the very letter the lies and follies of our ancestors. It is about that admonition of antiquity: that if we don’t learn from history, we are doomed to repeat it. For Iraq 1917, read Iraq 2003. For Iraq 1920, read Iraq 2004 or 2005.

Yes, we are preparing to give “full sovereignty” to Iraq. That’s also what the British falsely claimed more than 80 years ago. Come, then, and confront the looking glass of history, and see what America and Britain will do in the next 12 terrible months in Iraq.

Our story begins in March 1917 as 22-year-old Private 11072 Charles Dickens of the Cheshire Regiment peels a poster off a wall in the newly captured city of Baghdad. It is a turning point in his life. He has survived the hopeless Gallipoli campaign, attacking the Ottoman empire only 150 miles from its capital, Constantinople. He has then marched the length of Mesopotamia, fighting the Turks yet again for possession of the ancient caliphate, and enduring the grim battle for Baghdad. The British invasion army of 600,000 soldiers was led by Lieutenant-General Sir Stanley Maude, and the sheet of paper that caught Private Dickens’s attention was Maude’s official “Proclamation” to the people of Baghdad, printed in English and Arabic.

By Kathy Kelly
June 10, 2004

“It’s going to get worse before it gets better,” said the Pekin Federal Prison Camp (FPC) administrator, commenting about overcrowding. “We have about 40 more transports in the pipeline.” To alleviate overcrowding, the administrator asked 12 women to voluntarily relocate to Victorville, CA, where an FPC is being enlarged to handle more prisoners.

Only women facing three or more years of imprisonment are eligible.

Yesterday, three Hispanic women stuffed belongings they’re allowed to take with them into white net laundry bags, gave final goodbye hugs to friends here, and headed out to California where they will help build a larger prison.

Most of the dozen women who volunteered for relocation to Victorville, CA did so because it will place them closer to their children. “I just hope I can see my kids,” said Ana, a young mother whose children live in Arizona. “It’s been too expensive for them to come here. I really needs to see my kids. I think about them all the time, and it’s so hard to cope with being away so long. That’s why I’m out on the track running so much. I just try to run and pray.”

Shortly after I arrived here, Ana supplied me with used but quite usable gym shoes, a tote bag, and sweatpants. Several other women recalled her kindness and joined me in hoping she’ll be similarly welcomed in Victorville.

By Anna Bachmann
Voices in the Wilderness

Dr. Khammo Awshalim is going back to the UK. A former Agriculture professor with the Universities in Baghdad and Basra, he has been working for over a year for the Coalition Provisional Authority (CPA) as an advisor to the new Ministry of Agriculture. He helped develop numerous programs and projects to increase agriculture production, provide assistance to farmers, and restore the date palms, the national symbol of Iraq. Nearly all have come to naught and Dr. Awshalim is fed up and leaving the land of his birth to return to his adopted country where he lived for 14 years before returning to Iraq after the war to help with the reconstruction.

Dr. Awshalim rubbed his fingers together. “No money.” They seem to have plenty of money for security, he complained. Hundreds of thousands are being spent on concrete blast walls, armored vehicles, and security guards. “Tell me,” he said, “When the Americans finally leave, what will we do with all these concrete blast walls? Of what help will they be to the Iraqis?” For months now, Dr. Awshalim has been sending out email missives addressing these and many other issues that point to a lack of real reconstruction, huge wastes in spending and dubious environmental practices.

By Jo Wilding
May 29th

“Welcome to Canada,” said the sign at the border. “Not quite as bad as the USA.”

OK, it didn’t but the Canadians who looked after us in Vancouver said it ought to, given how much of their country’s economy and foreign policy had become bound up with theirs next door. Though Canada has troops in Afghanistan, it declined to send any to Iraq but the Canadian Council of Chief Executives (CCCE) is pressing the federal government for closer economic integration with the US.

The North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) came into effect in 1994 between Canada, Mexico and the US, forcing among other things large scale restructuring of Canada’s social programmes, not unlike the “structural adjustment policies” foisted on indebted countries by the IMF and World Bank. It gave corporations the right to sue governments for anything which interfered with their profits, even for legislation to protect citizens from harmful chemicals or for public opposition to the building of a factory in a given area.

Negotiations continue over the controversial Free Trade Area of the Americas (FTAA) to tighten economic ties but there are also plans in process to co-operate with the US on the National Missile Defence system, to develop a North American identity document giving business people greater mobility, unite the two customs systems, increase US access to Canadian energy and water resources and align Canada more closely with the US on refugee and immigration rules, ‘homeland security’ and regulatory standards, for example on drugs and agricultural chemicals and hormones.

by Kathy Kelly
June 4, 2004

I’ve always liked the restful quiet of an empty classroom. Maybe this is why the large room where we wait to start mealtime duties, here at Pekin Federal Prison, feels comfortably familiar. During breaks, in the dining area, I’ve spent many hours reading, writing, studying Arabic, and staring out the window.

Today, looking out the window, I watched Kim LaGore crossing the compound, flanked by Ruth and Malika.

Yesterday, when I left the dish room, I sensed something was radically wrong. Clusters of women were gathered, many already puffy-eyed and tearful. “It’s Kim,” I was told. “Her other son just died.”

On March 21st, 2004, Kim Lagore’s younger son, Dustin, was killed in Iraq. He was a 19-year-old US soldier who had tried his best to stay out of combat. 72 days later, Sean, Kim’s older son, age 29, died from complications following back surgery. Ruth and Malika, who also lost children while in prison, have been like guardian angels for Kim, holding and helping her through this wretched grief.

Every person in the prison camp yearns to spin a protective cocoon around her. The authorities couldn’t do much. The system traps their compassion too. They allowed Kim extra phone calls and submitted a furlough request. I feel sure that they each wished for swift procedures to re-sentence Kim to home confinement during the remaining three months of her sentence. Who wouldn’t want to respond humanely to a woman who has lost both of her children within three months time while forcibly separated from her relatives and her hometown community? But the system’s wheels turn slowly, very slowly.