I share below some updates on the ongoing bombings and attacks in Iraq, particularly Fallujah city, by American military forces.

My prayers with Fallujians and all Iraqis who are forced to bear the brunt of the American attacks day in and day out. What kind of a civilisation are we so many among us are not able to see through the deceit and lies that the Bush administration has thrust upon on us  in the last four years? Why can't we take a step back from our daily routines  and think of the damage being caused to our fellow human-beings in Iraq?

Al-Queda and many other Islamic fundamentalist organisations are terrorism personified in their own right. But the American government is similar; it attacked Afghanistan and Iraq under the guise of security for itself (but where are the Iraqi WMDs?). Can't the Americans have enough ability to protect themselves in their own land that they want to invade and  attack other countries (even the September 11 attacks were preventable, more on this can be read at http://www.cooperativeresearch.org? Which anyway is a pretense for something else--control of oil and domination  (more on this can be read at http://www.oilempire.us/peakoil.html).  We are in a peak oil situation were from now onwards our planet is going to  give us our daily fix of oil in lesser and lesser quantities.

The current situation in Fallujah is reminiscent of the excuses Germany made when it invaded Austria and Czechoslovakia in 1938. At that time, Germany  had forced the Austrian and Czech ruling powers to yield to Germany's rule, but  there were enough independent-minded Austrian and Czechs who opposed Germany and  against whom German forces carried out brutal offensives similar to what the  Americans are doing to Fallujans and other Iraqis today. The civilian  deaths in Iraq caused by American bombings and troops' attacks are as  unfortunate as the civilian deaths in Hungary in late 1956 when Soviet Union  forces crushed an uprising of Hungarian workers and students against  Stalinist repression and communist tryanny.

There are more lessons from history we can learn from. But are we  learning them? US, leave Iraq and Afghanistan immediately!

Rajesh

1]
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/middle_east/4004873.stm

Eyewitness: Smoke and corpses

US troops, backed by Iraqi  forces, are locked in a fierce fight to wrest the city of Falluja from rebel  control. The BBC News website spoke by phone to Fadhil Badrani, an Iraqi  journalist and resident of Falluja who reports regularly for Reuters and the BBC  World Service in Arabic.

We are publishing his and other eyewitness accounts from the  city in order to provide the fullest possible range of perspectives from those who are there:

Bombing Falluja

US bomber aircraft have been supporting ground forces in Falluja

A row of palm trees used to run along the street outside my  house – now only the trunks are left. The upper half of each tree has vanished, blown away by mortar fire. From my window, I can also make out that the minarets of several  mosques have been toppled.

There are more and more dead bodies on the streets and the stench is unbearable. Smoke is everywhere.

Sleeping through bombardment
A house some doors from mine was hit during the bombardment on  Wednesday night. A 13-year-old boy was killed. His name was Ghazi.

I tried to flee the city last night but I could not get very far. It was too dangerous. I am getting used to the bombardment. I have learnt to sleep  through the noise - the smaller bombs no longer bother me.

Without water and electricity, we feel completely cut off from  everyone else. I only found out Yasser Arafat had died because the BBC rang me. It is hard to know how much people outside Falluja are aware of what is going on here.

I want them to know about conditions inside this city - there are dead women and children lying on the streets. People are getting weaker from hunger. Many are dying from their  injuries because there is no medical help left in the city whatsoever.

Some families have started burying their dead in their gardens.

Iraqi soldiers
There has been a lot of resistance in Jolan. The Americans have taken over several high-rise buildings  overlooking the district.

But the height has not helped them control the area because the  streets of Jolan are very narrow and you cannot fire into them directly.

The US military moves along the main roads and avoids the  side-streets. The soldiers do not leave their armoured vehicles and tanks. If they get fired on, they fire back from their tanks or call in air-strikes.

I saw some Iraqi government soldiers on the ground earlier. I don't know which part of the country these soldiers are from. They are definitely not from any of the western provinces such as al-Anbar.

I have heard people say they are from Kurdistan. They are well co-ordinated. When the US forces pull back from an area, the Iraqi soldiers will take over there.

2]
http://riverbendblog.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_riverbendblog_archive.html#110029588434930934

Saturday, November 13, 2004

Murder...
People in Falloojeh are being murdered. The  stories coming back are horrifying. People being shot in cold blood in the  streets and being buried under tons of concrete and iron... where is the world?  Bury Arafat and hurry up and pay attention to what's happening in Iraq.

They say the people have nothing to eat. No produce is going into  the city and the water has been cut off for days and days. Do you know what it's like to have no clean water??? People are drinking contaminated water and coming  down with diarrhoea and other diseases. There are corpses in the street because  no one can risk leaving their home to bury people. Families are burying children  and parents in the gardens of their homes. WHERE IS EVERYONE???

Furthermore, where is Sistani? Why isn't he saying anything  about the situation? When the South was being attacked, Sunni clerics everywhere decried the attacks. Where is Sistani now, when people are looking to him for  some reaction? The silence is deafening.

We're not leaving the house lately. There was a total of 8 hours of electricity today and we've been using  the generator sparingly because there is a mysterious fuel shortage... several  explosions were heard in different places. Things are deteriorating  swiftly.

Eyewitness: Smoke and Corpses...

Iraqis will never  forgive this- never. It's outrageous- it's genocide and America, with the help  and support of Allawi, is responsible. May whoever contributes to this see the  sorrow, terror and misery of the people suffering in Falloojeh.

- posted by river @ 1:30  AM
Friday, November 12, 2004
 

One of  Those Weeks...
These last few days have been explosive- literally.

The sounds seem to be coming from everywhere. I've gotten tired of  running upstairs and out on to the roof to find out where it's coming from. It feels like the first days of the war sometimes- planes, explosions, bullets,  smoke... roads cut off.

We haven't attempted to leave the house but an  uncle who was supposed to visit called to say he wouldn't be able to come  because so many roads were blocked. Many people were told not to go to work and  students stopped going to college yesterday. It's one of those weeks. Some areas  in Baghdad seem to be cut off by armed gangs. Eid is in a couple of days  and that means there's Eid cleaning to do. The water was cut off all day today  and the electricity was gone too. This seems to be happening all over Baghdad-  we heard about the same situation in several areas. Can someone say 'collective  punishment'?! WE didn't kidnap your relatives Allawi... it was Zarqawi,  remember?!

Falloojeh is still being destroyed and the stories we hear are  mixed. It's difficult to tell what's true and what isn't. All we know is that  there are dozens of civilians being killed. They also say 18 Americans have died and over a hundred are wounded.

Mosul is also a mess. They are saying  there isn't a tank or patrol car in sight in that city.

Read more about  the situation at Juan Cole-  would love to say more but the generator is going to be turned off in a couple  of minutes.

- posted by river @ 1:57  AM
Wednesday, November 10, 2004

 

Rule of Iraq Assassins Must  End...
I'm not feeling well- it's a combination of the change of  weather and the decline in the situation. Eid is less than a week away but no  one is feeling at all festive. We're all worried about the situation in  Falloojeh and surrounding regions. We've ceased worrying about the explosions in Baghdad and are now concerned with the people who have left their homes and valuables and are living off of the charity of others.

Allawi declared a  "State of Emergency" a couple of days ago... A state of emergency *now* -  because previous to this week, we Iraqis were living in an American made Utopia,  as the world is well aware. So what does an "Emergency State" signify for  Iraqis? Basically, it means we are now *officially* more prone to being  detained, raided, and just generally abused by our new Iraqi forces and American  ones. Today they declared a curfew on Baghdad after 10 p.m. but it hasn't really  made an impact because people have stopped leaving their houses after dark  anyway.

The last few days have been tense and heart-rending. Most of us  are really worried about Falloojeh. Really worried about Falloojeh and all the innocents dying and dead in that city. There were several explosions in Baghdad  these last few days and hardly any of them were covered by the press. All this chaos has somehow become uncomfortably normal. Two years ago I never would have  dreamed of living like this- now this lifestyle has become the norm and I can  barely remembering having lived any other way.

My cousin kept the kids  home from school, which is happening quite often. One of the explosions today  was so close, the house rocked with the impact and my cousin's wife paled, "Can  you imagine if the girls had been at school when that happened- I would have died."

Dozens of civilians have died these last few days in Ramadi,  Falloojeh, and Samarra. We are hearing about complete families being killed  under the rain of bombs being dropped by American forces. The phone lines in  those areas seem to be cut off. We've been trying to call some relatives in Ramadi for the last two days, but it's next to impossible. We keep getting that  dreadful busy tone and there's just no real way of knowing what is going on in  there. There is talk of the use of cluster bombs and other forbidden weaponry.

We're hearing various stories about the situation. The latest is that 36 American troops have been taken prisoner along with dozens of Iraqi troops. How  do people feel about the Iraqi troops? There's a certain rage. It's difficult to  sympathize with a fellow-countryman while he's killing one of his own. People  generally call them "Dogs of Occupation" here because instead of guarding our  borders or securing areas, they are used to secure American forces. They drive  out in front of American cars in order to clear the roads and possibly detonate  some of those road mines at a decent distance from the American tanks. At the  end of the day, most of them are the remnants of militias and that's the way  they act.

And now they are being used in Falloojeh against other Iraqis.  The whole situation is making me sick and there's a fury building up. The  families in Falloojeh have been relegated to living in strange homes and mosques outside of the city... many of them are setting up their families inside of emptied schools and municipal buildings in Samarra and neighboring areas. Every  time I see Allawi on tv talking about his regrets about 'having to attack  Falloojeh' I get so angry I could scream. He's talking to the outside world, not  to us. Iraqis don't buy his crap for a instant. We watch him talk and feel  furious and frustrated with our new tyrant.

I was watching CNN this  morning and I couldn't get the image of the hospital in Falloojeh being stormed  by Iraqi and American troops out of my head- the Iraqis being made to lay  face-down on the ground, hands behind their backs. Young men and old men... and  then the pictures of Abu Ghraib replay themselves in my mind. I think people  would rather die than be taken prisoner by the Americans.

The borders  with Syria and Jordan are also closed and many of the highways leading to the  borders have been blocked. There are rumors that there are currently 100 cars  ready to detonate in Mosul, being driven by suicide bombers looking for American  convoys. So what happens when Mosul turns into another Falloojeh? Will they also  bomb it to the ground? I heard a report where they mentioned that Zarqawi 'had  probably escaped from Falloojeh'... so where is he now? Mosul?

Meanwhile, Rumsfeld is making his asinine remarks again, "There aren't going to be large numbers of civilians killed and  certainly not by U.S. forces,"

No- there are only an 'estimated'  100,000 civilians in Falloojeh (and these are American estimations). So far,  boys and men between the ages of 16 and 60 aren't being counted as 'civilians'  in Falloojeh. They are being rounded up and taken away. And, *of course* the US  forces aren't going to be doing the killing: The bombs being dropped on  Falloojeh don't contain explosives, depleted uranium or anything harmful- they  contain laughing gas- that would, of course, explain Rumsfeld's idiotic optimism  about not killing civilians in Falloojeh. Also, being a 'civilian' is a relative thing in a country occupied by Americans. You're only a civilian if you're on  their side. If you translate for them, or serve them food in the Green Zone, or  wipe their floors- you're an innocent civilian. Everyone else is an insurgent,  unless they can get a job as a 'civilian'.

So this is how Bush kicks off  his second term. More bloodshed. "Innocent civilians in that city have all the guidance they need  as to how they can avoid getting into trouble,"

How do they do that  Rumsfeld? While tons of explosives are being dropped upon your neighborhood, how  do you do that? Do you stay inside the house and try to avoid the thousands of  shards of glass that shoot out at you from shattering windows? Or do you hide  under a table and hope that it's sturdy enough to keep the ceiling from crushing  you? Or do you flee your house and pray to God you don't come face to face with  an Apache or tank or that you aren't in the line of fire of a sniper? How do you avoid the cluster bombs and all the other horror being dealt out to the people  of Falloojeh?

There are a couple of things I agree with. The first is the following:

"Over time you'll find that the process of tipping will take  place, that more and more of the Iraqis will be angry about the fact that their innocent people are being killed..."

He's right. It is going to have  a decisive affect on Iraqi opinion- but just not the way he thinks. There was a  time when pro-occupation Iraqis were able to say, "Let's give them a chance..."  That time is over. Whenever someone says that lately, at best, they get a lot of  nasty looks... often it's worse. A fight breaks out and a lot of yelling ensues... how can one condone occupation? How can one condone genocide? What  about the mass graves of Falloojeh? Leaving Islam aside, how does one agree to  allow the murder of fellow-Iraqis by the strongest military in the world?

The second thing Rumsfeld said made me think he was reading my mind: "Rule of Iraq assassins must end..." I couldn't agree more:  Get out Americans.........................
- posted by river @ 10:01  PM

Some  Terrorists...
The sky has been overcast these last few days. It’s a  smoggy, grayish combination of dust, smoke and humidity. I guess it has matched  the general mood in many ways- somewhat dark and heavy.

I’ve been very  worried about Falloojeh. So worried, in fact, that I find it hard to sleep at  night, wondering how the situation will unfold in that troubled area. Things are  bad in Baghdad, but they are far worse in Falloojeh. Refugees have been flowing  out of the area for weeks now. They’ve been trying to find havens in Baghdad and  the surrounding regions.

I met my first Falloojeh refugees last week.  One of my aunts was feeling a little bit under the weather and the phones in her  area were down, so we decided to pay a brief visit after breaking the fast in  the evening. As we pulled our car into her driveway, I discerned strange,  childish voices in the garden. Since my aunt has only an eight-year-old  daughter, S., I assumed the neighbors’ children were over to play.

S.  tripped over to the car and helped open the door. She was jumping with excitement and pleasure at so many guests. I glanced towards the garden, expecting to see children but besides a big palm and a couple of rose bushes, I  couldn’t see anything. “Where are your friends?!” I asked, pulling out the Iraqi  sweets we had brought for my aunt. She looked over her shoulder and smiled,  pointing to the palm tree. I squinted at the tree in the dark garden and  glimpsed a small head and a flashing pair of eyes, which quickly disappeared. I  nodded sagely and called out, “Hello, palm tree!” S. giggled as the palm tree  softly replied, “Hello.”

“It’s fine,” S. called over her shoulder to the  garden, “You can come out- it’s only my cousin and her parents!” We walked  towards the house and S. continued her prattling. “Mommy is feeling much better.  We have guests today. Well, we had them from yesterday. They are my friends.  They’re daddy’s relatives… they don’t have to go to school but I do.”

The living room was in commotion as we entered it. The television was turned on high to some soap opera and mixed with the shouts of an Egyptian soap  star was an infant crying, a mother ‘shushing’ it, and my aunt and her husband  discussing the fate of telephone line which had been dead for the last four  days. The woman with the infant suddenly rose as we entered the room and made  way for the door leading to the hallway.

After the initial greetings and  salams, my aunt rushed out of the room and came back in with the very reluctant  woman and her baby. “This is Umm Ahmed.” She introduced us and firmly sat the  woman back down on the couch. “She’s from Falloojeh…” my aunt explained. “She’s  my husband’s relative- but we never met before this.” She turned to give an  encouraging smile to Umm Ahmed, who was looking somewhat like a deer caught in  headlights.

The woman was tall and graceful. She was wearing a longish  traditional ‘dishdasha’ (something like heavy, embroidered nightgown) and her  head was covered with a light, black shawl that kept slipping back to reveal  dark brown hair streaked with strands of silver. I tried guessing her age but it was nearly impossible- she had a youthful look about her and I guessed she was  probably around 33 or 34. Her face, however, was pinched with strain and worry,  and that, combined with the silver in her hair, made her seem like she was  forty. She nodded at us nervously and held the infant tighter.

“Umm  Ahmed and her lovely children are here until things are better in Falloojeh.” My  aunt declared. She turned to my little cousin with the words, “Go get Sama and  Harith.” I assumed Sama and Harith were the children hiding behind the palm  tree. A moment later, Sama and Harith, led by S. entered the living room. Sama  was a delicate girl of about ten, while Harith was a chubby little boy who  looked to be six or seven. They avoided eye contact and quickly ran over to  their mother.

“Say ‘hello’,” Umm Ahmed urged quietly. Sama came forward  to shake hands but Harith tried to hide behind his mother.

“What lovely  children!” My mother smiled and pulled Sama in for a kiss. “How old are you,  Sama?”

“Eleven.” Came the soft answer, as she went back to sit next to  her mother.

How is the situation in Falloojeh?” My father asked. We all  knew the answer. It was terrible in Falloojeh and getting worse by day. They  were constantly being bombarded with missiles and bombs. The city was in ruins. Families were gathering what they could and leaving. Houses were being demolished by tanks and planes. But the question had to be asked.

Umm  Ahmed swallowed nervously and her frown deepened. “It’s quite bad. We left two  days ago. The Americans are surrounding the city and they wouldn’t let us out  using the main road. We had to be smuggled out through another way…” The baby  began to whine softly and she tried to rock it to sleep. “We had to leave…” she  said apologetically, “I couldn’t stay there with the children.”

“Of  course you couldn’t.” Came my aunt’s firm reply. “That’s crazy. It’s suicide-  the bastards aren’t leaving anyone alive.”

“I hope everyone is ok…” I  offered tentatively. Umm Ahmed focused for a moment on me and shook her head,  “Well, last week we buried our neighbor Umm Najib and her two daughters. They  were sleeping when a missile fell in the garden and the house  collapsed.”

“And my windows were broken…” Harith suddenly added,  excitedly, then disappeared again behind his mother.

“The windows were  broken and the front door was blown in. We were all ok because ever since the  war we’ve all been sleeping in the living room.” Umm Ahmed explained,  automatically, like she had told the story a hundred times. As she spoke, the  baby’s fists went up into the air and it gave out a little cry. It was a welcome  sound- the agonizing subject could be changed. “And is this Ahmed?” I asked,  rising to look at the infant. My aunt was calling her “Umm Ahmed” which means,  “The Mother of Ahmed”. Usually, the name of the eldest child is used as an  informal way to speak with the parents. “Abu Ahmed” is “The Father of Ahmed”. I  didn’t understand why she wasn’t, Umm Harith or Umm Sama, but since this was the last child, it must be ‘Ahmed’.

“No- this is Majid.” Sama answered my  question softly. The baby looked about four months old and had a shock of dark  hair, covered with what seemed at first sight to be a little white cap. His eyes  were the same hazel color as his mother’s. I smiled down at Majid and noticed  that the white thing on his head wasn’t a cap- it was a white gauze bandage. “What’s the bandage for?” I asked, hoping it was just to keep his head warm.

“When we were fleeing the city, we had to come in a pickup truck with  two other families. His head got hit with something and there was a scratch. The  doctor said that he has to keep the bandage on so that there won’t be an  infection.” Her eyes filled as she looked down at the infant and rocked him a  bit harder.

“Well, at least everyone is safe… you were very wise to come  here.” My mother offered. “Your children are fine- and that’s what’s important.”

This phrase didn’t have quite the effect we expected. Umm Ahmed’s eyes suddenly flowed over and in a moment, she was crying freely. Sama frowned and  gently took the baby from her mother’s arms, rising to walk him around in the  hallway. My aunt quickly poured a glass of water out for Umm Ahmed and handed it  to her, explaining to us, “Ahmed, her fourteen-year-old son, is with his father,  still in Falloojeh.”

“I didn’t want to leave him…” The glass of water  shook in her hands. “But he refused to leave without his father and we got  separated last minute as the cars were leaving the city…” My aunt rushed to pat  her back and hand her some tissues.

“Umm Ahmed’s husband, God protect  him, is working with one of the mosques to help get some of the families out.”  My aunt explained, sitting down next to Umm Ahmed and reaching to pull a teary  Harith onto her lap. “I’m sure they’ll both be fine- maybe they’re already in  Baghdad…” My aunt added with more confidence than any of us felt. Umm Ahmed  nodded her head mechanically and stared vaguely at the rug on the ground. Harith  rubbed at his eyes and clung to a corner of his mother’s shawl. “I promised  her,” my aunt explained, “That if we don’t hear from them in two more days, Abu  S. will drive out to Falloojeh, and he can and look for them. We’ve already left  word with that mosque where all the refugees go in Baghdad.”

As I sat  staring at the woman, the horror of the war came back to me- the days upon days  of bombing and shooting- the tanks blasting away down the streets, and  helicopters hovering above menacingly. I wondered how she would spend the next  couple of agonizing days, waiting for word from her son and husband. The worst  part of it is being separated from the people you care about and wondering about  their fates. It’s a feeling of restlessness that gnaws away inside of you,  leaving you feeling exhausted and agitated all at once. It’s a thousand  pessimistic voices whispering stories of death and destruction in your head.  It’s a terrible feeling of helplessness in the face of such powerful  devastation.

So Umm Ahmed is one of the terrorists who were driven from  the city. Should her husband and son die, they will be leaders from Al-Qaeda or  even relatives of Abu Mussab Al-Zarqawi himself… that’s the way they tell the story in America.

It makes me crazy to see Bush and Allawi talking about  the casualties in Falloojeh like every single person there is a terrorist  lurking not in a home, but in some sort of lair, making plans to annihilate  America. Allawi was recently talking about how the ‘peace talks’ weren’t going  very well and a major military operation was the only option available. That  garbage and the rest about Abu Mussab Al-Zarqawi is for Americans, Brits and Iraqis living in comfortable exile.

Allawi is vile and the frightening  thing is that he will *never* be safe in Iraq without American military support.  As long as he is in power, there will be American tanks and bases all over the  country. How does he expect to win any support by threatening to unleash the  occupation forces against Falloojeh? People are greeting refugees from Falloojeh  like heroes. They are emptying rooms in houses to accommodate them and donating food, money and first-aid supplies.

Everyone here knows Abu Mussab  Al-Zarqawi isn’t in Falloojeh. He isn’t anywhere, as far as anyone can tell.  He’s like the WMD: surrender your weapons or else we’ll attack. Now that the  damage is done, it is discovered that there were no weapons. It will be the same  with Zarqawi. We laugh here when we hear one of our new politicians discuss him.  He’s even better than the WMD- he has legs. As soon as the debacle in Falloojeh is over, Zarqawi will just move conveniently to Iran, Syria or even North Korea.

As for the ‘peace talks’ with Falloojeh- they never existed.  They’ve been bombing Falloojeh for several weeks now. They usually do the  bombing during the night, and no one is there to cover the damage and all the deaths. It’s only later we hear about complete families being buried alive or  shot to death by snipers on the street.

By the way, Americans- 100,000 deaths in a year and a half, and the number is rising.  Keep Bush another four years and we just might hit the half-million  mark…