Follow the extended link for the most recent e-mail update. No one yet knows where the four hostages are...or even if they live. And pray for the journalist from the Christian Science Monitor...and all other journalists. Are they targeting the press now? Who can say, but it is a worrisome question.
CPTnet
18 January 2005
IRAQ: Not a statistic, not a totem
Yesterday was a very bad day. In a war zone horrible things occur with
unrelenting regularity. By the mid-week there was a sense of exhaustion
as the numbers of lives lost grew due to suicide bombings, air strikes,
renewed fighting in Fallujah. Gunfire can be heard on some nights
somewhere in our neighborhood and we have not received word on the
condition of our four kidnapped friends.
Yesterday, I learned about the loss of just one life, another death you
will not read about anywhere. I met this man two months ago. He was of
medium height, slim and elegant in his dress and the way in which he
moved. His hair was neatly parted. He had a small mustache.
He spoke clearly, without emotion of horrifying events. One day, while he
was at work, he was arrested in a sweep by one of the many brigades. He
said over 450 men were picked up in the sweep.
Dispassionately he described his categories of 1."simple torture,"
insults,slapping, punching, kicking and 2."intense torture," beating with
plastic pipe, electrical cords, electric shock. He then assigned the
numbers to drawings of the human body, mapping the location and intensity
of the torture inflicted on his body to the corresponding part of the
drawings.
When he asked what he had done, after his release, he received no answer.
He could only secretly visit his wife and family because his presence at
his home could result in their deaths. He said he expected to be killed.
During our conversation he took his handwritten testimony about his
torture and the murder of his out of his brief case. Attached to the
testimony were photographs of his brother's body showing the effects of
what it had endured.
His brother's murder seemed of more consequence than his own experiences.
Only once, when speaking of his brother, did his voice show any urgency or
emotion.
He was preparing to make a public statement about these events. He said
he would not be going home again. I asked if we could talk again; he said
it would be difficult.
And then yesterday, I received a phone call from a mutual friend. First
he talked about someone else we both know. Then he asked me if
I remembered this man and his brother. "He's dead. He was killed." He
repeated the question, "Do you remember him?" I do. I will.
I will remember because his death and my life are tied to this disfigured
place. He is not an abstraction, a statistic, headline or the face of
Iraq. He is tucked under my skin; his history has become a part of mine.
In a recent New York Times article by John F. Burns of photographer, Adam
Nadel's images of the ravages inflicted on Iraqis by this war, Mr. Burns
writes: "In his or her own way, each of these survivors is a totem for
all, *"
No. They're not.