By Brian Buckley
Peace Between Peoples Delegation
Monday, April, 26, 2004

Dear friends,

The five members of the delegation, Peace Between Peoples, have arrived in Najaf, the holiest city of the Shiite religion that is in danger of being attacked by the US military. Should Najaf be attacked a full fledged war would erupt and followers who were formerly not conscripted would commit to battling American troops.

We drove from Kerbala yesterday and passed an Coalition outpost and noted a US military convoy. We were cordially detained by the Iraqi Police and accompanied to our contact’s office in Najaf thereafter. We were met by members of Ayatollah Sistani’s office and led through a labyrinth of narrow alleys, and around nooks, past houses built upon houses that seemed a thousand years old. We passed straight faced men with machine guns sitting on stools as we continued down the serpentine alleyway. A representative of Ayatollah Sistani’s, the revered leader of the Shia sect, office strode confidently and quickly around a corner flanked by bodyguards to meet us. He greeted us respectfully and sent for a local doctor to translate. Later as we sat together he expressed gratitude for our peace delegation and concern for our safety which he could not guarantee. Sistani is a moderate and does not have control all Shia followers. We do not expect guaranteed safety especially when they cannot guarantee their own. The meeting was brief and intense. Our contact connected us with local and regional media some of whom we since have met with.

Moqutada alSadr, the younger, less-respected but popular firebrand who is calling for true liberation and is a wanted man “captured or killed” by the US military for allegedly inciting violence, sent a representative from his office to our hotel to dialogue. He too expressed gratitude for our mission and warned of the danger present. He offered a car, bodyguards and anything else we needed but could not guarantee our safety in regard to what the US military posed. We respectfully declined and expressed we are not here to take sides but want to deliver a message from America that this war does not represent the entire country. We feel the need to persist in the American protest of this war. We feel the need to continue challenging US troop deployment and occupation. This meeting went on for longer and ended with a promise of several kilos of “good baklava.”

There is a large hospital close by in Najaf that has been occupied by US military and is no longer serving the population as a medical center. Patients are seeking medical attention from clinics in other parts of the city. We plan to introduce ourselves to them today and possibly set up a vigil there for the remainder of our stay.

Tuesday, April, 27, 2004

Dear all,

The Arabic symbol for the number five is a circle. As a team of five in this city on the brink of full scale battle we have sought for meaning in symbols here. Will the circle be unbroken?

I feel the tension rising from reports in the inner city. We have chosen to stay closer to the perimeter where the American troops have replaced the Spanish. A Sudanese reporter with al Arabiya (a UAE news channel) has been a war correspondent here and spent several hours with us yesterday relaying his experiences. His stories are horrible. He was inside a hospital in the northern city of Gheim from where he witnessed a nurse and an old man both inside the hospital being shot by American snipers. He congratulated the removal of Saddam from power but said that because of other foreign elements (Islamic mercenaries) that continued attacking Coalition forces in Iraq since the war was declared over by the US have turned the Coalition from liberators to occupiers.

Since the American soldiers have been killed they are more frightened and quicker to shoot than was first the case. The Iraqi people who don’t support either of these foreign elements are taking the brunt of this. This transformation has taken a toll on the goodwill of the Iraqi people who at first were happy to see Saddam gone but whose distrust for Americans has grown. “At first I like American soldier. Good no Saddam. Now, I very very hate American soldier. They are take good from Iraq,” a young cleric told me two nights ago. The insult of their presence in and around this holy city of Najaf is insulting to the Shiites. The people are tired of war. “Islamic peoples like peace, want peace. [We] like America. No Boosh.” Over and over I’ve heard these sentiments and heard the exasperated question “why?” Many believe it is because of oil and understand their significance in the global market as a major economic factor.

We plan to go to the hospital where American troops have stationed themselves and would like to meet with the commander there. I will send a press release letting you know how that goes, if it goes. An Iraqi boy outside a store pulled his toy gun on me. I raised my hands in surrender. He shot me and laughed. I wonder how much that speaks to the situation here. I feel the force of your prayers, the power of pure goodness.

always,
Brian

Thursday, April 29, 2004

Asalam aleikoom.

Since the beginning of our trip to Najaf I have passed through stages of fear. Leaving the farm was a step toward commitment, telling my mother, holding and leaving my two week old nephew, boarding the plane to Jordan, crossing the border and Iraqi desert, walking around the mosque in Kerbala, coming to Najaf and each day since, waking up in Najaf. Fear, I’m learning is a form of blindness. It is only when we are in the presence of what we beforehand had feared does a calm cover me. Each day I shed the fear of yesterday and dress in the fears of tomorrow. These lessons of discovery are hard to apply to new fears. I am trying to live each moment without fear, that is, without blindness. Fear has kept those who use weapons from seeing this light that comes only in vulnerability; otherwise blindness remains. Wolves will sit and listen to lambs, not to other wolves.

Yesterday a press conference was held by our group Peace Between Peoples before we proceeded to the Coalition base adjoining the hospital. A component of our mission was to address the American troops with a message to retreat, disarm and obey a higher law. We walked towards the hospital with a swarm of journalists buzzing around us. Peter led the group with a white flag above his head, Meg and Mario followed with a sign that read, “Dont Be the New Saddam; Come Home” and Trish and I followed with a sign that read, “Peace Paz Salaam (in Arabic).”

We had been strongly advised to not go to the hospital because Spanish Coalition forces had opened fired on a crowd of demonstrators heading from Kufa, where al Sadr is from, to Najaf and 22 Iraqis and two Spanish soldiers were killed. When we crossed the road and reached the sidewalk closer to the barricade a shot was fired above our heads. We froze and the journalists scattered. We held the signs with one hand and tried to expose ourselves as openly as possible. Think like soldiers, we were told. After ten minutes, three soldiers sprinted from behind a wall of sandbags and took cover behind a tree with their guns. They waved us forward. Slowly we advanced. Two guards came towards us; one with an El Salvadorian flag and the other with an American flag sewn to their jackets. We greeted them in English and Spanish. They wanted to know who Margaret was and to bring her inside to meet with the base commander. “Meg” had called the Coalition Provisional Authority (CPA) in Baghdad and informed them of our plans. The CPA representative was willing to talk with her. We blessed her and remained outside.

Eight El Salvadoran soldiers were at the barricade behind their bunkers of concrete and sand bags. The American, Perez, invited us to come in because he was concerned about us remaining outside in a “vulnerable position.” We followed him, accepted water and sat down on the ground to talk.
I call Perez a simple man in the most honorable way. He was respectful and open. He was a medic and not yet an American citizen; he is Cuban. I didn’t ask whether or not he was serving in the military in exchange for citizenship.
Among the stories he told was of US soldiers slowing down their Humvee for children playing in the street and being ambushed and killed. Also two US soldiers who tried to help a woman with her car that appeared broken down; as they approached she ran and the car exploded killing them both. As we talked a mortar shell exploded near the hospital and we were rushed into a concrete bunker. He practically brushed it off as routine.

The El Salvadoran commander joined us and told his stories. He has a wife and a son. Both recited, “Proud to be a soldier. Following orders,” as if it were a mantra. It made me incredibly sad. I could feel a deep anger, a blue flame almost, for this idolatry. Not against them but against this lie, this idolatry, that is perpetuated by the “powers and principalities” that St. Paul wrote about. These soldiers are pawns. They want peace more than anyone, they said. They realize their position is extremely dangerous and want to be home. They relish the simple everyday activities we enjoy. Perez talked of mowing his lawn and barbecuing. It reminded me of the same yearnings of inmates in jail relishing the simple that we forget as holy.

Meg was escorted from the hospital to where we were and can’t judge how it went. They were willing to talk but not sure if they were willing to listen. Before we left the base, the five of us prayed in an open circle. The American soldiers who had escorted Meg stood nearby. I prayed for a way all of us could leave this danger. A place where I am not right and they wrong but, a place where we can all concede and walk together. Rumi wrote, “and I will meet you there.” I left the base thinking maybe I did not come these thousands of miles to deliver a message to the troops but to hear one. They do not want war. I told the American soldiers we would continue to do our best to bring them home safely.

These deeply personal exchanges do not cloud the crime and the idiocy of the occupation. Many Iraqis were pleased by Saddam’s removal and cheered for the Americans. As the troops were attacked by Islamic mercenaries their handshake tightened to a grip that is strangling the Iraqis, but not the resistance. The hospital that they have taken is the largest in Najaf with a third of the beds available. Iraqis who were once supportive are watching their relatives suffer and die from neglect. This, across the country, is politicizing hearts and fostering bitterness for the occupation. I think of Orwell’s pigs standing on two legs toasting to the overthrow of the humans. This sentiment of Bremer gradually resembling Saddam is growing.

Last night in the hotel I rushed up to the rooftop when I heard an explosion. Khatim, a reporter who I’ve befriended, strongly advised me to return to my room immediately, lock the door and turn off the lights. I alerted the others and we sat in the darkness. Our exposure yesterday on 12 television stations perhaps gave a local faction ideas to get their own attention. There are many more groups here than Sistani’s and al Sadr’s. Khatim sat and advised us to leave here today. We heard a roar from downstairs and Khatim left to find out what was happening. It was darker than ever. My newfound bravery vanished and the fear that I thought I had overcome engulfed me. “This is it,” I thought. We’re either going to be kidnapped or killed. They’re storming the building. Fuck. Khatim returned. The Iraqi National Soccer Team had scored a goal and set the football fans watching the television in the lobby into a frenzy. We turned on the lights and laughed a nervous laugh. Comic relief.

It’s Thursday. We have been invited by al Sadr’s people to join them for Friday prayers. Our good friends with al Arabeeya TV are leaving today for Baghdad. They have been tremendous. Unsung heroes.

The sky is overcast and the temperature mild. I was told that T-shirts are not worn in public so I’ve been wearing the one dress shirt I brought since arriving. I’ve scrubbed it “clean” in the various hotel sinks. It was white when I left and is now pleasant cream. We’re paying $150 a night for the hotel rooms and I’m holding out on buying a $2 shirt.

We’re very gracious to you all for the support and comfort you have sent.

brian

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Brian Buckley of the Little Flower Catholic Worker community in Louisa, Virginia, is part of the Najaf Emergency Peace Team, “Peace Between Peoples”. The team is a handful of determined volunteers from several well-established peace/global justice/human rights and religious organizationsm, and has now arrived in the area, to place themselves “nonviolently, symbolically and physically” between the U.S. armed forces amassed nearby and the civilian population of the ancient holy city - in the way of any American military assault.