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[casi] Ali: Did you understand the meaning of liberty?



Friends,

The following is a very bitter letter from an Iraqi to
Ali Ismael Abbas. The opinions reflect those of a
large number of Iraqis...

HZ

----------------------------

Ali: Did you understand the meaning of liberty?

By: Buthaina al-Nasiry (Iraqi writer)
Translated from Al-Quds Al-Arabi / 5 May, 2003-05-05


When America bestowed on us freedom and democracy, Ali
Ismael Abbas became the symbol of the New Iraq. He was
born 12 years ago in the first days of sanctions; he
had a house, two parents and brothers, and the family
had a car and a computer. Ali spent his sanction years
playing computer games and dreaming of when his
parents teach him to drive a car when he grows older.
But Mr. Bush had another opinion: he had a different
future for the boy. That is why he sent him his
favorite toy: a smart bomb that burned the house with
those in it. It was the moment of salvation that Bush
had promised the Iraqis.

And so Ali became a homeless and invalid orphan. His
thin body was reduced to a trunk resembling a cross;
Mr. Bush's cross of course. The ghost remains of two
arms and a body half of which had burned, leaving
intact the head and two large eyes exposing shadows of
the palm trees of Iraq as they glimmer over Shatt
al-Arab. In a moment of "historical change" Ali, the
grandchild of the martyred Hussein whose people Bush
promised to liberate, became the cross burdening our
consciences. All were present in the scene of Ali's
crucifixion: Israel, Judas and the spectators.

Because Ali was moaning on Arabic satellite channels
and his Iraqi eyes appearing on the pages of some
western newspapers too, our brothers in the south
volunteered to take Ali and treat him. For they are
Arabs about whose generosity caravans talk, and it is
said that their guesthouses could house a quarter of a
million. The last we heard from Ali, before he entered
the guesthouses of our brothers in the south and his
news disappeared, were his questions: why did the
Americans kill all my family? Where would I go when I
return to Baghdad? How will I drive my father's car?
How would I play computer games without fingers? Are
you going to transplant arms for me?

Because Ali is young, for his age does not exceed the
sanction years, he might not understand that this is
not the proper time to ask such strange questions,
while everyone, states and nations, are busy
installing governments, drawing up plans and maps,
building bases and distributing contracts. And because
Ali is young and doesn't understand games of adults,
this is an attempt to answer him in a simple and
understandable way, so that he may comprehend and stop
asking questions at this improper time.

Ali, try for a while to stop complaining and loosing
your consciousness, and listen to me, for I will tell
you the truth that you won't hear from others.

What happened to you is something great and wonderful
called "freedom and democracy". You have to be proud
that Mr. Bush, the leader of the world's biggest
state, has chosen you Ali to make you an icon of the
New American Century. What does an icon mean? It means
a symbol of something we are proud of. You have turned
into a new entity, without arms, with a burned body
and big head. You are the symbol of the Free Iraq. You
can imagine all those sculptors making many statues of
you to decorate our homes and squares, and tourists
will flock to buy them. Isn't that a wonderful thing?

Mr. Bush was very kind to you, you have to admit, for
he saw that your father was sometimes very strict on
you, so he rid you of him. And he saw that your mother
was excessively protective of you, so he rid you of
her. And he saw your younger brother quarreling with
you over your games and messing your school books, so
he rid you of him. And he saw that your home was old
fashioned not suitable for the new age, so he rid you
of it too.

Here you are at last, absolutely free, with a wiped
memory, ready to start a new life. Freedom has given
you a family better than your old one: you now have
uncle George, uncle Dick, Grandpa Donald, Auntie
Condoleeza and uncle Colin. They are all civilized,
good and cheerful people, and therefore they have
promised to give you the freedom to choose which
sidewalk of Baghdad's roads you want to live on to
smell the free air of freedom.

But you also have to admit that the best thing uncle
George did was his efforts to give you full relief, so
he rid you of the burden of your arms. How wonderful
(as a friend shouted).. Now you don't have to stay up
nights doing your school works. And when you grow up,
you won't have to carry a sickle to farm, or a ruler
to draw a road, or carry a stone to build a house or
run a motor to pump oil. Uncle George's companies have
taken care of all of these. More important, he has
protected your dignity so that, unlike people with
arms, you will not have to raise a white flag every
time you need to go to the grocers, or lift your arms
up at check points at every street corner.

Do you see, Ali? You don't need arms. What would you
have done with them anyway? Were you perhaps dreaming
of holding your beloved one in some coming day? Calm
down, for you will not find anyone alive in your new
world. All the commandments of the new Bible scream:
KILL... KILL... KILL...
What were you really going to do with arms? Did you
want to eat with them? Don't worry much, because our
cousins in the south will take care of fitting two new
arms, more civilized and more modern.. Two shiny hooks
made from stainless metal, one ending with a curved
fork that can easily be stuck into a MacDonalds´
hamburger, while the left hook ends with pincers that
allow you to hold a Coca Cola bottle.
Isn't that wonderful, Ali? At last, a real MacDonalds´
hamburger, and not the kind your mother used to fool
you with. And real Coca Cola, not the cheap copy of
the sanction years which Iraqis cheated you with..

Uncle George was truthful to his word: didn't he
promise you prosperity?

And as you sit on the sidewalk, with one hook in a
MacDonalds´ and the other holding a  Coca Cola, with
ketchup dripping on your chin and shirt without a
mother to reprimand you on your indifference, I hope
that you finally realize the ....meaning of Freedom,
Ali!

Democracy means that you can sit on the sidewalk quite
freely, eating MacDonalds´ and drinking Coca Cola,
watching the new Iraqi TV. And instead of seeing only
one person talking to you like before, you will now
see your new family: George, Donald, Dick , Condy and
Colin telling you about the happiness and the
prosperity in which you roll, and they tell you in
decisive words of what they doing and how they plan
for you and your future and how they will plan your
life for you and choose your friends and enemies..

And that, Ali, is democracy…

Ali... Ali... You are loosing consciousness again!!



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