Tea with terrorists

“Our hearts are open, but our borders are closed,” said Sheikh al-Jumaily of the Furqan mosque, as he urged us to draw international attention to the devastation of Fallujah and the ongoing suffering of her people. Nothing in my experiences in Iraq and Palestine really prepared me for what I saw today – it reminded me most of old film reel of Hiroshima or of Dresden after the firebombing. Whole districts are flattened and the soot and rubble which remains has been moulded into a polluted quagmire by the spring rains. Yet somehow the Fallujans are re-establishing themselves - large families living in tents or in the one remaining room in their house with a semblance of a roof.

[left] Three girls and their mother are still living in this house, in the one tiny room still with a roof. [right] the car on the left was crushed by a tank, with a boy and his father inside.

Although 85% of Fallujans have now returned (many forcefully evicted from refugee camps) the US is working hard to keep the city cut off from the rest of Iraq. In a move reminiscent of Israeli tactics, special Fallujah IDs have been issued, which block internationals and even other Iraqis from entering. A senior official in the Fallujah Reconstruction Commission (based in the cement factory outside of town) explained that, although he had moved to Fallujah 13 years ago, because his ID card is from Baghdad he and his children have not been allowed to return. The head of the Reconstruction Commission was delighted we were visiting but cautioned that we had a 99% chance of being refused entry. The prospects of entry were clearly dim, as US soldiers had turned back the Minister of Sunni Religious Affairs a few hours before. Yet somehow we passed through the tripled checkpoints.

The American soldiers at the checkpoints could not believe that we were entering this city of terrorists without guns and armour. Yet, wherever we went amongst the ruins, crowds of ragged people greeted us warmly and, if we lingered more than a few minutes listening to their stories, glasses of tea inevitably emerged. The ability of Iraqis to distinguish people from the actions of their governments never ceases to amaze me, and I wish that this attitude would take root back home in Britain.

One of the Iraqis in our group had brought wheelchairs for the hospital. As I pushed one across the elegant green bridge spanning the Euphrates I remembered the satellite imagery from last November, as the media tracked the operation with clinical graphics. The hospital was seized by special forces on the first day, depriving the injured of medical care in order to prevent body count figure from getting to the outside world. We also visited a health centre in Jolan district, currently handling a case load of over 1000 patients a day as it is the only clinic in the city still standing.


[Left] One of the few minarets still standing - only just. [Right] the only room in her house with some semblence of a roof.

Independent journalists and NGOs have reported that over 65% of the homes in Fallujah are destroyed or so badly damaged as to be unlivable. This figure is consistent with the massive destruction that we saw. Even the buildings still standing are peppered with the acne of bullet holes. The Reconstruction Commission told us that 30 of the 55 mosques in the city had been attacked and all the electrical and water infrastructure in the southern half was destroyed. There is also massive pollution and infection. The Jumhuriya and al-Wehde areas, for example, now have too much bacteria in the water for it to be drinkable.

One of the aims of our visit was to investigate the possibility of joining with Fallujans to help rebuild homes. CPT isn’t a development NGO and actually has a policy against providing material aid, as this could get in the way of our primary work of violence reduction. This idea instead is to offer our time to do physical labour, along with Shia colleagues from the newly formed and energetic Muslim Peacemaker Team in Kerbala (some of whom came on this trip), to demonstrate cross-partisan support for Fallujans and draw media attention back to the city. We had a long talk about this with Sheikh al-Jumaily (who’s own home was burnt to the ground with all his possessions), and we hope that we will be able to return in a few weeks and implement this project. When I was telling with some young men in the devastated Shuhada district that I wanted to help rebuild their homes they straightaway asked me to flex my muscles – they seemed satisfied with my physic (I think they were being polite!) and began to lead me behind their tent to the pile of cement and bricks. Unfortunately I was not able to stay on this occasion, but I was inspired by the grit of the Fallujan people – instead of standing around complaining about the lack of assistance they have received (none of the $500m promised by the US has arrived), they are salvaging bricks from the rubble, mixing mortar, and rebuilding their city themselves.

Tea with "terrorists"