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World of the News

~ For the universal in today's top stories

Tag Archives: Iraq

#117 Advent and Fall, 2016

November 6, 2016

Alveoli of swelling smoke: people in the region round Mosul are glad-ioli, learning to breathe again after ISIS retreats; but it’s a rasping hard coming they have of it.

Oilfields burning: skies overcast by black cotton wool; horizons hidden. Meanwhile many women are lifting the veil from over their eyes.

Coming again to the wider world. But who comes for them, if not in nihilism? No point in denial-ism: here in the West we’ve got nothing for you.

Too busy this election season, chasing swirls of brown leaves spotted with age; and at the same time throwing petrol on the bonfire of our vanities.

#104 Sketches From The Silly Season

August 31, 2016

By now his foot is in the rescue boat; his Europe starts here. Part-lifted, part-pulling himself out of the overcrowded inflatable. Fine features, full lips, corkscrew hair. Eyes closed perhaps out of modesty – no self-respecting young man should be seen succumbing to the embrace of the broad-shouldered Spanish coastguard. No worries, though. Only the same as hand-on-head whenever a perp gets into a police car.

Still sitting in the dinghy that’s just far enough off the Libyan coast for a credible distress call, among the many, far too many tightly packed in, two men next to each other, one grinning, the other grimacing as they watch the younger man going aboard the Spanish vessel. There are hundreds more migrants to be carried over before their turn comes.

Sitting, squatting, hardly anything to eat, doing nothing except trying not to get sick. For the ones that didn’t get away, every wasted day in Libya’s internment camps, surely seems interminable.

Would-be escapees hidden in warehouses and farm buildings. Valuable human cargo, although from the smugglers’ handling, you wouldn’t think they’re worth more than 10 cents.

Perhaps a quarter of a million trying to get in; or maybe as many as 800,000 (least conservative estimates from the most conservative sources). Either a Carthaginian army set to invade Rome; or the population of a small city, lying listless in the sun like elephants with their tusks removed.

Blocks of seats in the civic sports centre painted in different shades, giving the fleeting impression of a stadium filled with spectators sporting opposing team colours. But this is China’s New Ordos, rich in resources including rare earth metals, the ‘ghost city’ built for a million Mongols to live in but only a hundred thousand turned up. read more

#90 Tony Blair Revisited: Echoes and Mirrors

July 8, 2016
Voice thinned out instead of thickening with retirement, the sing-song intonation remains the same; but resonance that went with residence in No 10, has duly gone away.

Open-faced, hand-on-heart, put a beard on him and you could take this for a devotional picture of Our Lord, Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ! Is that what he thinks – my cross to bear, I did it for the sins of the world? Or is it only how he’s playing it – playing us? Perhaps for him the distinction is false: what works is what is; and that’s the end of it.

Tony Blair, who stepped down in 2007 after 10 years as UK prime minister, has been brought back to Basra and Baghdad by publication of the Chilcot Report – the much-delayed findings of a seven-year-long inquiry chaired by senior civil servant Sir John Chilcot, into Britain’s military role in the overthrow of Saddam Hussein in 2003 and the subsequent occupation of Iraq.

Chilcot has reported that Blair chose to declare an unnecessary war. This means that the British troops killed in action, one hundred and seventy-nine of them, died unnecessarily; to say nothing of thousands of civilians slaughtered and more than a million Iraqis displaced in the sectarian chaos which ensued after the occupying forces dismantled the state of Iraq.

Anticipating strong criticism from bereaved families, immediately after the high profile launch of the Chilcot Report, Blair held his own press conference at Admiralty House (nice gaff if you can get it), in which he apologised for how much hurt the war had caused, but insisted that on the basis of what he knew at the time, he would do the same again.

Although he had plenty to say (the press conference went on for two hours), Blair’s brittle voice – his, but with the bass taken out – was reduced to a tremulous echo of the tracks he recorded previously, as prime minister.

But no one asks why Iraq came top of the target list post-9/11. At the time, Western leaders surely felt the need to verify themselves in a suitably spectacular way (naming their invasion ‘Shock and Awe’ is just one indication of its essentially theatrical nature). But why, when Al Qaeda terrorists had been identified as ‘networked’, ‘de-centralised’ and even ‘postmodern’, did Tony Blair and US president George Bush attack a regime such as Saddam’s, renowned for its highly centralised bureaucracy? Unless Iraq came top of the hit list not least because in its centralised, partially modernised aspects it resembled the discarded social structure and the semi-socialist architecture which Britain and America had only recently come to despise. read more

#64 Replaying The War

November 1, 2015

They called it a turkey shoot but you wouldn’t stuff this carcass at Christmas.

It is the charred man, crisped to ash and bone when a convoy of conscripts was strafed by Coalition planes in the closing stages of the ‘video game war’ against Iraq (February 1991).

The posture of the burnt-out body told photographer Kenneth Jarecke ‘how precious life was to this guy…trying to get out of that truck’.

Head and shoulders framed in the windscreen, hands pushing down on the dashboard,the human remains that Jarecke froze on film had been ‘fighting to save his life to thevery end, till he was completely burned up.’

But ‘Crispy’ didn’t tally with the preferred, purposely blurred image of ‘surgical strikes’ against Saddam Hussein, dictator of Baghdad. When it mattered most, most newspapers demurred: they deferred printing until the picture was already its own archive.

Head tilted, teeth bared, shoulders bunched forward, the charred man of nearly 25 years ago is precursor to the pose struck by a previously charmed man, fighting to save his public life in a recent interview with CNN (the rolling news channel which first came to international prominence during the war in which Crispy was incinerated).

Flesh turned to ash would have toned in perfectly with Tony Blair’s grey suit and matching tie. Likewise, the former British prime minister also bares teeth, tilts his head, and bunches his shoulders forward as he gazes intently – too intensely – at interviewer Fareed Zakaria.

Dried out in an instant, how Crispy would have envied the merest smear of sweat on Tony’s upper lip. But would he be duped by his doppleganger’s verbal delivery? Oh-so deliberately casual, with prepared pauses in the, wrong places – as if words are simply springing to mind and not always at a regular rate, when really their spontaneity has been repeatedly rehearsed. read more

#24 Public Record, Private Lamentation

July 14, 2014

Young enough to be my son, a man cradles the corpse of his 10-year-old boy.

The man looks tenderly upon the boy’s body, which he is about to wash. Behind him, other family members are distraught; their noisy distress renders them incapable; he can hear how useless they are.But you are still with me while I do this in remembrance of you, the man might be saying.

Except he would not say it, could only think it. Except he cannot think of it, dare not address himself to what happened – and who even knows how it did? He can only do what – yes, really – what a man has to do.

In Baghdad the city morgue is full to capacity: bags of bodies stuffed into freezers, temperatures in the streets outside nudging 50 degrees; mortuary staff carrying on withthe stifling work of listing and labelling. Wherever possible, reconciling recent images – broken faces, busted bodies – with earlier photos of missing persons.

Sometimes the remains cannot be released to relatives until a DNA test has proved positive.

The woman in charge doesn’t know the numbers, although in reply to the reporter’s question she concedes there are many more sectarian killings than a year ago. She laughs but not out of cynicism or defiance or nervousness; it is only funny that someone would need to ask.

Otherwise untimely, in these extraordinary circumstances her laughter is appealing. It carries the half-thought – why would she need to think it through? – that carrying on is what she does in remembrance of normality.

Doing what she has to, Our Lady of the Morgue is proof positive of that public virtue – bureaucracy. She bags bodies because life unrecorded might never have been; except for family, there is nothing to say, either way.

Public and private, official records and a father’s grief. In the open valuation of human life, each of these matters as much as the other.

Po-Mo Terro’ and Its Backward Country Cousin

December 8, 2013

Nine people died yesterday when gunmen (thought to be Shi’ites) shot up 12 liquor stores in Baghdad. The killers approached their targets in SUVs, raking shops and supermarkets with gunfire. Most of their victims were Yazidi Kurds. Since their syncretic faith (Sufism and Zoroastrianism) takes a liberal line on alcohol, most of Baghdad’s liquor stores are staffed by Yazidis.

Did the gunmen see themselves as Untouchables, blasting seven bells of hell out of Prohibition hooch? For that truly authentic experience, instead of SUVs they could have hired an armour plated Cadillac and stood on the running boards brandishing their Tommy guns. Al Capone meets Al Qaeda. Shame if a few bootleggers caught a round of lead and ended up dead of the post-modern condition.

Meanwhile in Makhachkala, capital of the federated Russian republic of Dagestan (North Caucasus), anti-alcohol terrorism looks more straightforward. Naïve by comparison, like a bunch of schoolboys out shoplifting.

Here they come now, including the one in a bright red anorak (must have missed the class entitled ‘the importance of being unobtrusive’). They almost collide with the security guard as he saunters out through the shop doorway. Anorak pulls a gun, drops him – suddenly the guard’s legs and feet are poking back into the CCTV frame. Furtively, the three boys enter the shop and drop a bag with a bomb in it behind the nearest counter. Then scuttle out again. On their way out, did they grab a few sticks of chocolate and shove it up their jumpers?

Outside, on the other side of the street, another CCTV camera records the smoke and dust as the shop windows are blown out. Next: the security guard is lying largely where he was before; still flattened, his face now blackened, encircled by shop debris – bits of a wire trolley, twisted light fittings and shelving. Woven together with autumn leaves, this rubbish forms a bargain basement wreath around him. read more

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