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   XPost: soc.culture.iraq, soc.culture.pakistan, soc.culture.canada   
   XPost: soc.culture.latin-america   
   From: acoustic@panix.com   
      
   Around April 7, when the West was glorifying G W Bush's conquest of   
   Baghdad, Iraqis were scared and fearful of American patrols, having   
   seen their loved ones killed and severely injured by American bombs.   
      
     On 9 April 2003, at about the time that the statue of Saddam Hussein   
     in Baghdad was coming down, Marwa Shimari was waking up.   
      
     . . .   
      
   And later,   
      
     When [the American] patrols came, the villagers were scared and   
     resentful.   
      
     "They were frightening," Marwa says, "angry, shouting, and pointing   
     their weapons at us with grenades clipped to the front of their   
     uniforms.  They came into the houses looking for guns or pieces of   
     cable - the kind of things you can make a bomb out of."   
      
     The soldiers didn't find anything in the Shimari house, but what   
     sticks in Marwa's mind is the memory of her mother, running out of   
     the house, terrified, when the Americans arrived.  The first time   
     you realise that your mother is scared is one of the most   
     frightening moments of your childhood.   
      
   Marwa had lost a leg from an American bomb.  But she lost more than   
   just a leg.  Her life was completely changed.  And she also lost a   
   younger sister from the same American bombing raid over her hometown   
   which was by all accounts not a location of any strategic value nor   
   was it posing the kind of danger that would have warranted the air   
   raids.  It was just a raw show of force to intimidate the people of   
   the country soon to be conquered.   
      
   (After suffering a lot of pain from her injury, ...)   
      
     Marwa arrived in Germany after some visa problems, and was taken to   
     Munich's Alpha Clinic.   
      
     Her stump was infected, and doctors used a sharp spoon to remove   
     dead flesh without an anaesthetic. Marwa was brave throughout the   
     procedure, but on the way home had to stop the car so she could   
     vomit.   
      
     Infection in her stump meant a wait for physio treatment and for a   
     new prosthetic to be fitted - a process further complicated by   
     fragments of bone and shrapnel still lodged in her leg.   
      
     Meanwhile Marwa and her mother lived in a hotel, and were taken to   
     the cinema, to football matches and to the Alps.   
      
     On their return to Baghdad, she became depressed and showed signs of   
     suffering PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder). When Todenhofer   
     returned for a visit, she begged him to take her back to Germany - a   
     wish he was unable to grant.   
      
   About Jurgen Todenhofer:"   
      
       The German writer and former politician heard about Marwa through   
       Unicef   
      
       The charity had previously organised trips for him to Iraq and   
       Afghanistan, and he'd written a book about the effects of war on   
       children   
      
       He used the proceeds to set up a school for street children in   
       Baghdad and a home for children with war injures in Afghanistan   
      
       He then wrote the book Andy and Marwa   
      
       "Andy" is Lance Cpl Andrew J Aviles, who died the same day Marwa   
       lost her leg   
      
       It too became a best-seller in Germany   
      
   About this PTSD, we know many American soldiers returned from Iraq and   
   Afghanistan have shown sign of suffering from it.  You can imagine   
   many more Iraqis are suffering from it too.   
      
   For more of the Marwa story, please keep reading.   
      
   In article ,   
     wrote:   
   >On Wed, 20 Mar 2013 07:58:30 -0700 (PDT), rst9    
   >wrote:   
   >   
   >>Today, Iraq stands as a monument to Western Powers' blunder.   
   >   
   >Actually April 7th 2003 is far more viable date for most Iraqis, that   
   >was when his giant statue was pulled down from a high pedestal by an   
   >American tank. The jubilant Iraqis than start to pelt it with shoes, a   
   >final insult in their culture.   
      
   That is, unfortunately, just the western narrative.  First, how many   
   Iraqis were there to pelt the downed statue with shoes?  And the   
   "jubilant" crowd has since been known to have been staged by the Bush   
   team.   
      
   The iconic photo I remember the most has a kid no more than 12 years   
   old in the center of the picture.  He had one of his arms raising a   
   rifle high that was pointing toward the sky in a celebratory pose, as   
   he was also marching along with some American soldiers amidst a crowd.   
      
   That was supposed to be the march intoBaghdad, the Iraqi capital city.   
      
   That is to me the strongest evidence of a staged photo-op because the   
   composition of the photo clearly suggests a conscious imitation of the   
   famous painting of Eugene Delacroix's "La Liberte'-guidant le peuple"   
   which refers to the French revolution.   
      
   But the invasion of Iraq was not a revolution.  It was an invasion as   
   the country was at peace with itself as well as with its neighbors at   
   the time.   
      
   And as a result of the invasion and occupation - what many have since   
   referred to as "Rape of Iraq" - there were upwards of one million   
   Iraqi excess deaths and five to six millions became homeless.  Today,   
   the country remains a failed state.   
      
   And who was doing the hard work of pulling down the statue?   
      
   The American soldiers!   
      
   The statue thing is to produce a visual/visceral feel-good moment for   
   the consumption of the American public.   
      
   But have the Iraqi people said they would be willing to lose their   
   loved ones, their homes, or their lives and happiness, for the sake of   
   tearing down that statue?   
      
   Would you trade your place with Marwa (see Marwa's story below) to see   
   that statue pulled down?   
      
     In Sabaa Qusour, after that first devastating contact in 2003, the   
     villagers saw relatively little of the Americans.   
      
     When patrols came, the villagers were scared and resentful.   
      
     "They were frightening," Marwa says, "angry, shouting, and pointing   
     their weapons at us with grenades clipped to the front of their   
     uniforms.  They came into the houses looking for guns or pieces of   
     cable - the kind of things you can make a bomb out of."   
      
     The soldiers didn't find anything in the Shimari house, but what   
     sticks in Marwa's mind is the memory of her mother, running out of   
     the house, terrified, when the Americans arrived.  The first time   
     you realise that your mother is scared is one of the most   
     frightening moments of your childhood.   
      
     For Marwa this was the beginning of a year in which long, dark   
     spells in bed at home were punctuated by periods in hospital.   
      
   (Can you blame Marwa's mother for being so scared of the American   
   soldiers?  They have caused one of her daugthers to die instantly and   
   another who had wanted to be a doctor when she grew up but ended up   
   losing a leg with many post-surgery complications, suffering dark   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)