Christopher Allen-Docot

On the morning of Saturday January 17th Um Haider and Mostafa crossed the border of Jordan and entered into American military occupied Iraq. They were heading home, after 9 months in the US, to a “liberated” Iraq where people are afraid to be out after dark and American military helicopters buzz the skyline at low altitudes like giant mosquitoes carrying a venom (the weapons not the G.I.s) worse than malaria or the West Nile Virus. Um Haider would soon see that while much has changed in Iraq, too much remains the same and some of what has changed has done so for the worse.

Our journey back began on a difficult note as we missed our flight due to a combination of a snafu by the counter agents at the airport, being flagged for extra security screening, and then being sent to customs by a TSA officer concerned about the money we were carrying. The TSA officer was a courteous and young guy and he offered to escort us to Customs in an effort to expedite things so we wouldn’t miss the flight. While in Customs he told me he had recently returned from a tour of military duty in Iraq, in the same breath he noticed Mostafa’s hand and asked what had happened. I explained the story of the bombing of their Basra neighborhood in 1999 and how Mostafa lost part of his hand and his brother to the blast. The TSA officer didn’t respond immediately; but after a pause he related to mixed feelings of his participation in the war. His mind and gut were in conflict. He had pledged an oath to defend the American Constitution and to obey his chain of command but in so doing I suspect his gut was telling him he was doing something wrong. This young man now wrestles with the image of kids like Mostafa while those who made the decision to send him off protect themselves by distance and blindness.