Ma'asalama Iraq

So already my trip is over. I was plotting my return even as the mini-plane began it's spiral combat assent from Baghdad Airport which, in passing, is much flashier than when I was there last October. There's even a sovernier shop where you can buy geeky baseball caps saying "Welcome to the FREE Iraq" along with dusty old cases of coins from the days when Dinars came in a metal format and fractional denominations which were still worth more than a dollar. I bought an Iraqi flag and crate-loads of dates (iraq used to export 90% of the world's supply back in the good old days before oil ruined the economy and everything else).

One theme of the last few days has been blogger meetups. A few days ago I hung with Abu Khaleel's son in Baghdad, then yesterday Majid and Khalid Jarrar introduced me to the wonders of Iraqi icecream (some Riverbend had described to me last year in mouthwatering detail and I was worth the wait), then I searched the city for a decent juice bar with Enzo and today in Amman I munched salad with the most glamourous middle eastern blogging duo, Niki and Raed. It's wonderful realising that typing occassional waffles onto the net draws you into a vast network of some of the most interesting people on the planet. I'm typing this in Books@Cafe, a famous hang-out for Jordanian anglophiles. It's been refurbished since I was last here and really is a splendid venue to eat and email (the connection is much faster now), though the book selection is still as dreadful as ever (the seem to specialise in bulk shipments of just volume three's of obscure trilogies!). I'm killing time now since my flight back to London is tomorrow morning.

It's a hard time to be leaving, with the Marines about to storm Najaf. I'm clearly no Sadrist, but its horrific that the US is happy to slaughter so many Iraqi civilians in order to try and wipe out practically the only person likely to get a significant number of votes in an election. Maybe I should have quit my job and stayed out there, trying to help out in Najaf as Jo Wilding and others did in Falluja. I'm probably not savvy or brave enough to have emulated her, but as always I'm torn apart, unsure what I can do to best help Iraq while balancing my responsibilities in Britain.

An Englishman in Baghdad

The last 5 days in Iraq have been tough and on the few occasions where I've had 15mins to blog I've felt overwhelmed and therefore wimped out. Apologies to friends who've been worried by the silence...

Would you believe I only managed to write that first paragraph when there were five heavy explosions so I quickly quit the hotel internet cafe (to avoid flying glass if a mortar rounds lands outside, and more importantly to avoid all the excited journalists scurrying around with a hungry look on their faces) and headed up to my room. It's quieted down now, so I'm going to have another go!

Iraq, as you may guess, is hot and chaotic. Until last night I was staying in a cheap hotel without air-conditioning (and often without any electricity most of the night) which meant I got no sleep but did get a little understanding of how exhausting and frustrating it is just trying to live a few nights in Baghdad at the moment - quite a few people have suggested that I'm brave coming here but I reply that what takes real courage is to live out here permanently and remain as friendly and self-giving as so many Iraqis are.

However the situation has changed considerably from my last trip in October 2003 when I used to travel alone around the city by foot and taxi, chatting with so many people along the way. Baghdadis whose opinions I respect have insisted that I can no longer do this. It is heartbreaking not to be able to interact so freely now, and my schedule is difficult to juggle as I am dependent on friends to pick me up and drive me around Baghdad's gridlocked streets. One change for the better is a reasonably functioning mobile network, although that results in another variable to juggle - keeping one's phone charged is not easy when the electricity supply is so hit and miss, and the stakes are much higher if the battery suddenly dies (as mine did yesterday evening when I was trying to arrange a pick up at night in a dodgy area).

But anyway, life here still goes on of course. And not just the daily chores and tasks. Love is in the air. I kid you not. One insightful friend pointed out that most of the foreigners who've spent more than a few months here have ended up getting hitched, either to each other or more often to locals. I don't gossip so I won't mention any names, but I've heard of almost a dozen examples. If I was staying much longer than the 9 days of this trip the chances are I'd likely be kidnapped, not by Al-Qaeda but by Abu Jamila or someone who'd walk me up the aisle (or mosque equivalent) with his daughter!

Actually I do have a kidnapping story: I was almost the first person kidnapped in Iraq. Last October one friend approached me with a proposition - he and some friends would dress up in mujahadeen clothes, hold a gun to my head and video my pleas for release. I would then head home to the UK and they would sell the tape to Al-Jazeria or someone, and split the profits with me. When the world media started probing and found me safe and sound I could explain how the whole affair was a big joke. Ha Ha. Needless to say, though to my Iraqi friend's deep surprise, I didn't agree and missed out on my 5 minutes of fame/infamy.

My main task out here has been to find someone to run Jubilee Iraq on the ground here. It's been hard going and I've had so many gloomy assessments from Iraqi friends that it will be impossible to find a good trustworthy person with the appropriate skills and in the short time I have available. I'm not so pessimistic, as I have a higher opinion of Iraqis than I think many do themselves. Of course its a tough situation, unemployment is so high that people will do and say anything to get work, and the long years of dictatorship have meant that most well qualified people had either been coopted or fled into exile. My other task here has been to investigate Iraqi NGOs and it has been depressing to hear how many of them are shams just after donor money - but at the same time I have found some which are decent, and I refuse to reject the grain just because there is so much chaff.

I've had some fun times here as well. Long hours chatting with a fiery Palastinian friend who is known across the country for going the extra mile to help anyone in need. Listening to an Italian and an Arab argue over which race has contributed most to the development of coffee. An evening with a former minister who encouraged me to embrace Islam (one of his interesting proofs was that if you take a scan of someone's lungs and turn it on its side, then within the network of tubes - I think they're called bronchi - you can read (in Arabic script) the Kalimath At-thawheedh "La Ilaha Illallah" which means "There is no god but Allah" - does anyone have any pictures to demonstrate this?). He also told me of the occassion his daughter innocently asked him "in what way is Saddam related to God" - an understandable question in a society forced to submit to a personality cult in which a list was even drawn up of the 99 names of Saddam. A guilty debate with a vegan activist who correctly guessed that I'm a veggie in the UK but lapse when I'm here in Iraq. Joking with iraqi friends about the tastleless formless green statue which has replaced the one of Saddam at the end of Saadoon Street. Crusing at night around "TeaTime" and other favorite haunts of the Iraqi upper class youth with a junior doctor who explained how he'd boldly demanded, and eventually received, an apology from an American soldier who had randomly and mistakenly arrested him while he was waiting in a fuel queue... Everyone one meets in Iraq has a story to tell, and most of them are worth hearing.

Rwandan roadtrip

Rwanda is called the country of a thousand hills ("les milles collins") and the description is spot on. I drove across about half the length of the country yesterday from Kigali to Kibuye never once touching a straight stretch of road longer than 20 meters, just endless broad meanders around the hills. The countryside is very green, fertile and every square inch is cultivated - it has to be to feed 6 million people crammed into an area about the size of Wales. I love contours, and so the landscape is right up my street. The views can be spectacular as you crest one of the larger hills and gaze out over the endless fractal progression; this time of the year is quite hazy, so the more distant hilltops are blurred by vapour, giving the scene a kind of dreamlike quality.

Driving in Rwanda seems to involve jamming the wheel hard to the right around one bend, hard to the left around the next, and so on until you reach your destination, all the while tooting the horn to warn the hordes of pedestrians, cyclists, cows and goats about your approach. The density of population is obvious from the dozens of people who lined almost every stretch of the two and a half hour journey.

Lake Kivu is, to look at, a paradise location with crystal clean water surrounded by those milles collins. It's a perilous place, however, as it contains pockets of methane gas which periodically bubble up and can suffocate anyone swimming or fishing in the vicinity. Three years ago (to cap Africa's bloodiest civil war) the Volcano overlooking Goma on the Congo side of lake Kivu erupted and cut a lava path through the city centre. Apparently the lava solidified about 70m into lake Kivu, however if it had penetrated another 100m it would have ignited the methane, leading to an unimaginably vast explosion. That is one horror at least that the long suffering people around Lake Kivu have been been spared.

Here's a random observation: I've been known to start my sentences with an conteplative hum "Mmmm" but Rwandans seem to take this to extreme, beginning every word with the letter M. Okay, so this isn't strictly true, but certainly the four survival words of Kinyarwanda I've learnt so far all fit the pattern:

murakoze = thank you
mwaramutse = good morning
mwirwe = good afternoon/evening
murarakye = good night

Weddings and loose ends

I'm writing this from Kigali, Rwanda, where I've just arrived to assess HIV/AIDS projects for my charity NPC. I'm here until Saturday then driving down to Burundi (avoiding interahamwe and other rebels on route) for another six days research. This trip is hectically sandwiched between two weddings in England. I arrive back in London at 6am on the 24th and head straight to the wedding of my oldest friends Anne Westmacott, and the evening before I flew out here was the wedding of an Iraqi friend Hussein.

Hussein and Ghida's wedding reception was the most oppulant I've ever attended, or am likely to attend! It was in the Royal Counts of Justice in London, in a giant hall seating at least 500 people. All the great and the good of anglo-iraqi society were there, and at one point I even found myself bopping on the dance floor to an Amr Diab song alongside the lawyer who is organisings Saddam's criminal tribunal. It was wonderful meeting Hussein's friends from school and university, as I've only seen a small section of his life in the year we've known each other. One of them commented, and this is spot on, that H manages to make everyone in the room feel special, and that was demonstrated as he floated around arm in arm with Ghida greeting everyone. Brides are traditionally radiant, but Ghida really took it to a new level - the photos I have of them dancing together look like the must be scenes from a Hollywood film. I also had the surprise of bumping into another Iraqi friend who, unbeknown to me, had also got married that same day.

I'll post of some more in a few days about my impressions of Burundi and Rwanda. Before I sign off I better tie up a few loose ends, having not posted for quite a while. I mentioned, regarding my trip to the Congo a couple of months ago, that I'd been asked to carry over a "package" from the Ambassador in Britain the Foreign Minister. Various concerned friends had emailed to ask about my smuggling activities, and I have to admit that the package turned out to be a perfectly boring (but very heavy!) box of A3 paper and envelopes - clearly in short supply over in Kinshasa. So I'm not on the run from Interpol... yet. I should have really posted more about Kinshasa, but it took time to digest and I was really busy in May and June (excuses excuses). But grab me sometime and I'd be delighted to chat with you about the disco dancing funeral processions, the brightly coloured shops with names like "The Love and Blessing of God Grocery", canoing on the mightly Congo river, the sharp division of society into two rival groups - those who drink Skol and those who drink Primus beer - and many other things.

The other bit of news from the last month is that Jubilee Iraq has recived a grant from George Soros' Open Society Insitute, which will enable us to hire an Iraqi out in Baghdad to take the campaign forward there over the next few critical months. I'd hoped to go out there in June to recruit someone, but planning for this Africa trip meant I wasn't able to take of any holiday time from my day job, but I'm hoping to get over in August. It's been far too long, almost a year, since i was last out there and my heart strings get jerked with the news each day. Inshallah (providing NPC can get funding for this) I'll be over there for an extended period towards the end of this year, begining of next, catalysing support and funding for Iraqi civil society.

In memory of Nabil

I've just learnt that an Iraqi friend, visiting his family after decades in exile, has been killed by American soldiers. I don't have any more details at the moment.

Nabil was one of the most vibrant enthusiastic people I've ever met. He lived for many years in Switzerland, and was the cornerstone of our Jubilee Iraq demonstration against the UNCC reparations in Geneva in March.

He arranged to meet us in Geneva station, with the instruction to look out for his berret. I think Fay and myself spooked a couple of berret-wearing Swiss men as we stared at them and tryed to figure out if one of them could possibly be an Iraqi. But when Nabil arrived he was very clearly different - unfortunately I don't have a photo of the trademark berret, but the grin you can see here is equally distinctive. He was the sort of guy you can't help but warm to instantly: bright and bubbly, but also passionate and dedicated in campaigning for justice. I simply cannot conceptualise how a soldier can have imagined him to have been threatening enough to kill.

I don't feel able to write more now, but may do later. For me this obviously brings home the reality of the war. Those cold bodycount statistics (now exceeding 10,000) each represent a real person just as unique and precious as Nabil. I had been wondering whether or not to arrange a another demonstration at the end of June when the UNCC next meets (incidentally on the eve of the transition) to award yet more reparations against Iraq because of Saddam's crimes, and in fact I would probably have been emailing Nabil next week to discuss it. Now I am convinced the demonstration must go ahead as he would have wanted.

I pray for Nabil's family and friends in their grief, and I pray that Iraq may soon become the free, just and peaceful country that he longed and strived for.

[update] I've just recieved more information. Nabil was killed in the controversial strike on the wedding party near the Syrian border. It has not been widely reported that the planes also bombed all of the cars along that stretch of the road to Syria. Nabil was in one of them, on his way back to Switzerland. His elderly father had to go searching and found his still unidentified body in a hospital nearby.

Nabil was a Swiss citizen, and I hope the Swiss government will take a stand on his killing.

I, Robot and the purpose of life

There are some things buzzing in my head which I'm going to spit out and see if they make any sense. I've just got back from my first time in over a year at a home group (a few people from church who meet each week for fellowship and prayer). It reminded me that the christian life is meant to be lived as part of a community, and made me realise just how self-centred I've become

A lot of people think I'm a very decent and altruistic kind of guy. I've just got back from the Congo doing work on AIDS for a charity and I spend a lot of my free time campaigning on Iraq. Sure, there is an aspect of me that really wants to help people, but the truth is that I spend the vast majority of my time and energy thinking about ME and what I WANT. In fact I'm reasonably sure that I'm more self-focused now than at any point in my life, certainly since I was transformed by Jesus almost a decade ago.

I write a blog for goodness sake! Keeping a diary is one thing, but posting it online and assuming that it's worth YOUR time reading my ramblings is very egoistic. (who are you guys anyway? This blog gets about 50 visitors a day, so not Salam Pax or Instapundit (thankfully), but still considerably more than the number of people I talk to physically each week. And I can tell from some of the search engine terms used to get here that you're an interesting bunch.)

I'm trying to figure out why I've become so self-centred in order to decide what to do about it.

Certainly I've had a pretty rough time over the last few years (though not a touch on people I've met in Iraq, Congo and many here in Britain), with redundancy from a dream job, a long period of unemployment, a broken heart etc. etc. But I think the main thing which has contributed to my selfishness is a loss of regular christian fellowship. Although I have lots of friends scattered around London, it's hard to be part of a close-knit community here. So for almost three years I haven't had people to be accountable to and to pray with regularly; to share their concerns on my shoulders as well as receiving their support for me. As a result I have grown increasingly lonely and have retreated into my own head and even away from God. I think this drift self-centredness is what the Bible calls our "sinful nature", and we all have a tendency to do it unless we keep focused on God and have the support of a community.

The home group I've just joined is about to start studying together a book called "The Purpose Driven Life", and I read the first chapter on the tube home this evening. The opening paragraph is very relevant to the issue I'm blabbering about:

"It's not about you. The purpose of your life is far greater than your own personal fulfillment, your peace of mind, or even your happiness. It's far greater than your family, your career, or even your wildest dreams and ambitions. You were born by his purpose and for his purpose... You could reach all your personal goals and become a raving success by the world's standard, and still miss the purposes for which God created you. You need more than self help advice."

I'm now going to make an apparently random connection with the other book I have on the go at the moment, a collection of early science fiction stories by the late great Isaac Asimov He coined the term 'robotics' back in the early 1940s and in a series of stories laid down the classic three laws of robotics:

(1) A robot may not injure a human being, or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.
(2) A robot must obey the orders given to it be human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.
(3) A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection down not conflict with the First or Second Law.

This laws are embedded deep within Asimov's robots and as a result, in the words of Asimov's robopsychologist Susan Calvin, in stark comparison to most humans, "robots are essentially decent... The three Rules of Robotics are the essential guiding principles of a good many of the world's ethical systems... you can't differentiate between [the actions of] a robot and [those of] the very best of humans."

Asimov's robots *have to* follow ethical rules and serve the interests of their human creators, in fact they will shut down before violating one of the three laws. Like the robots, God has programmed us with ethical rules - our consciences - something demonstrated by the similarity of the core values of most religions and philosophies. However, unlike the robots, we are not forced to obey. We can chose to disobey our Creator and act against his purposes, and we've been doing just that since Adam & Eve.

Instead of creating us as robots, God has given us free will and hence the opportunity to obey him out of love rather than robotic requirement. As Jesus told his disciples at the Last Supper:

"If anyone loves me, he will obey my teaching... I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and your joy may be complete. My command is this: love each other as I have loved you." (John 14.23, 15.11-12)

I think I've figured out the theory, but putting it into practice is another thing. I'd really appreciate your prayers that I move away from my current self-centredness and really pour my energy into obeying God through loving my fellow humans.

Smuggling up the Congo

My friends may not be surprised, given that I seem to be drawn to warzones like a moth to flame, to learn that in 48hr time I will be touching down in the Democratic Republic of Congo. What I suspect will surprise them is that on this trip I will be smuggling contraband goods, in fact smuggling them for the Congolese government itself.

I am currently in my flat in central London awaiting a phone call from the Congolese Ambassador to inform me off the pickup instructions. I am then to collect a mysterious sealed box which I have been told to deliver at precisely 11am on Tuesday into the hands of the Foreign Minister in Kinshasa. I have no idea what the box will contain. It might be fairly standard merchandise such as trafficked human organs, drugs or non-sequential dollar bills. It could however be something slightly more exotic, such as the design blueprints for a nuclear weapon, or evidence linking political enemies with the missile attack in 1994 which destroyed the plane carrying the Rwandan and Burundian Presidents and sparked a decade of genocide and war in the region.

The official description which the Ambassador gave me yesterday, when he persuaded me to make the delivery (in return for getting a visa at short notice without all the officially required documentation), was that the box contains "headed stationary". So perhaps the truth of this little anecdote is merely that President Major General Joseph Kabila has a predilection for the kind of high quality scented letter writing paper that can only be bought from certain shops located on London's Bond Street... surely that's the most plausible explanation, isn't it?

My trip to Congo, by the way, is part of the work I'm doing on HIV/AIDS in the region. I'm just going to be in the capital for a week on this occasion, but will hopefully spend most of July visiting AIDS projects out in the eastern part of the country around lake Kivu, and also in Rwanda and Burundi. As a side line while I'm there, I'm hoping to solve one of the last remaining puzzles of African geography by discovering the source of Um Bongo .

The truth about Falluja

Reports suggest that at least 600 Iraqis have been killed and over 1000 injured in Falluja. Most of the UK media has repeated uncritically the US story that those all killed are "insurregents" but my friend Jo Wilding, who is taking a circus around schools in Iraq, spent the weekend working with ambulances in Falluja and tells a very different story: "The satellite news says the cease-fire is holding and George Bush says to the troops on Easter Sunday that, "I know what we're doing in Iraq is right." Shooting unarmed men in the back outside their family home is right. Shooting grandmothers with white flags is right? Shooting at women and children who are fleeing their homes is right? Firing at ambulances is right? Well George, I know too now. I know what it looks like when you brutalise people so much that they've nothing left to lose." (read more from her).

I feel so helpless here in the UK. Rationally I can argue to myself that I may be able contribute more to Iraq by working on long term issues such as debt through Jubilee Iraq, but my heart says I should be out there now like Jo standing alongside Iraqis and using my white skin, blond hair and english accent to try and protect the innocent and the wounded, assuming I could summon up a fraction of the courage that she and many brave Iraqis have.

Following on from my post on Easter Sunday, a story of solidarity from Iraqi newspaper Azzaman which reported that Iraqi Christians did not celebrate Easter in the normal way this year. They only went to church, prayed, and asked the Lord to end this distress. Instead of visiting relatives and friends, as is common on Easter, they went to health centres to donate blood. Najat Yousif Hanna said "How can we celebrate while our brothers in Fallujah, Karbala, Najaf, and other cities are suffering and bleeding."

Karbala and Calvary

I've long been intrigued by the Shi'ite understanding of the martyrdom (shahada in Arabic) of Mohammed's descendents, particularly that of Imam Husayn at Karbala. Husayn had been promised the caliphate (leadership of the Islamic community) after Caliph Mu'awiyya, however when Mu'awiyya died in AH61 (AD680), his son Yazid seized power and wiped out Husayn’s tiny army at Karbala on Ashura, the 10th day of Muharram.

This year is particularly poignant because as pilgrims gathered at Karbala to commemorate Ashura, hundreds were killed in terrorist attacks. Also the Arba’in (the 40th day after Ashura), which marks the end of the period of mourning both for Husayn and for the Iraqis killed by terrorists, falls today - Easter Sunday, which for Christians ends the period of mourning for Jesus, being the day of his resurrection. This coincidence of dates provides an opportunity to consider the concepts of martyrdom in the two faiths.

Others have noted the similarities. Sayyed Farqat Al Qizwini, Director of Relgious Studies at Hilla University says that "Imam Hussein sacrificed himself for human beings, justice, freedom, and peace on Earth -- just like Jesus Christ did for the same reasons." Anglican vicar Ray Gaston from Leeds gave a lecture at Karbala University, this year with his own reflections on how, as a Christian, he is inspired by the story of Imam Hussein.

What strikes me most powerfully is that both Ashura and Good Friday are considered to have cosmic significance and an empathetic quality. Husayn's descendent Imam Ja'far ibn Muhammad as-Sadiq famously said that "Kullo yawm'in Ashura, kullo ardh'in Karbala" which means "Every day is Ashura and every place is Karbala". The injustice and suffering experienced by Husayn at Karbala resonates in every instance of injustice and suffering, and can comfort and inspire the victims. Ghandi said “I have learnt from Husayn how to be oppressed yet victorious.” The resonance is particularly strong for Iraqis at the moment who have been suffering so much for so long, and are able to celebrate in public for the first time in 25 years. Channel 4 produced an excellent documentary tracing British pilgrims going to Karbala, and the website contains some quotes from pilgrims about "what Muharram means to me."

Jesus, like Husayn, willingly suffered an unjust death which appeared to be a defeat but was in fact a great victory over evil that brings comfort and inspiration to the oppressed today. So Christians might say in parallel that "Every day is Good Friday and every place is Calvary.”

Just as Ashura has resonance for every time and place, so many Muslims attempt to express their grief and share in Husayn’s sufferings through self-flagellation. There are also Christians groups who practice self-flagellation. While this practice is not mentioned in the Bible, self-denial and a willingness to endure suffering certainly is. Jesus said that anyone who wanted to be his disciple “must deny himself and take up his cross daily”, while Paul talked about “the fellowship of sharing in Christ’s sufferings”, and Peter even enjoined persecuted believers to “rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ.” The Shia have always been persecuted, with the first 11 Imams all being martyred, and so have faithful Christians: all of Jesus’ apostles were martyred along with a large proportion of believers over the first three centuries under the Roman empire. The presecution continues today and it has been estimated that more Christians were martyred in the 20th century than in the previous 19 combined.

There are differences in the two martyrdoms. Husayn’s death on the battlefield was honourable, as he himself said it is “better die with honour than live in shame.” Jesus’ death however was an inherently shameful way to die (as Mel Gibson’s film The Passion powerfully depicts): he was flogged, spat on, mocked and nailed to a cross. Another difference is that while Ashura is a time for tears, Christians actually rejoice and call the day of the crucifixion Good Friday not Bad Friday.

The differences related to an underlying difference in theology. Christians believe that Jesus’ death was redemptive, that he lovingly chose to take upon himself the burden of human sin and shame in order to offer people the opportunity of forgiveness through repentance and trust in him. Isaiah had prophesied 600 years before: “He was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities, the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.” And the Apostle Peter wrote: “He himself bore our sins in his body on the Cross… once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring us to God.”

Some Shia do seem to understand Husayn’s death in a redemptive way, for example Martyr Murtada Mutahhari writes “Imam Husayn… has insured us against the consequences of sin in return for our tears. All that we have to do is to shed tears for him and in return he guarantees immunity to the sinners.” However mainstream Islamic thought has generally rejected the idea of redemptive sacrifice. For example Imam Sa’dullah Khan, director of Muslim affairs at the University of Southern California, writes: “Muslims do not believe that another person can die to atone for the sins of human beings. Atonement for sins comes from sincere repentance of one’s wrongdoings, and salvation lies in submission to the commands of Allah and doing righteous deeds.” This is a soteriology (theory of salvation) based on good works, in contrast to the Christian soteriology of salvation through grace ("it is by grace that you have been saved, through faith... not by works, so that you can't boast").

With regard to Jesus’s crucifixion, some Muslims such as the apologist Ahmed Deedat argue that he did not die on the cross since, without the notation of redemptive sacrifice, that unjust death would imply that his mission had failed. One common theory is that he was teleported from the Cross and replaced with someone else (usually given as Judas) who died in his place. The Qu’ran does not contain this story, and some argue that the substitution theory comes from a misunderstanding of Sura 4.157-8 (which rebukes some Jews who were apparently boasting about killing Jesus) and that when it is read in the context of Sura 3.54 ("O Jesus, I will cause thee to die and exalt thee in My presence") the Qu’ran is actually in harmony with the Gospel accounts of the crucifixion.

This is an area of intense speculation and controversy which I need to research more, as I believe that many theological disputes between Christians and Muslims result from misunderstanding on both sides accentuated by centuries of conflict. As Muslims and Christians come to understand each other's faith from the perspective of individuals' heart-beliefs and experience, they realise that there is a great deal more commonality than they might expect. This is not to imply relativism or pluralism - there are indeed important theological differences between the two faiths - but God is much bigger than any human theology and reaches out in love to all people irrespective of their background and beliefs.

Self-sacrifice in the face of injustice is at the heart of both Karbala and Calvary, and it is this kind of loving self-sacrifice from Muslims and Christians working together which can build a peaceful and prosperous future for Iraq in the face of enourmous injustices.

International voting in the US Presidential election

An idea I've been mulling over for a while is to set up mock elections around the world to coincide with the US Presidential elections, since these arguably have more bearing on many of us than our own domestic elections. It seems that someone else has had the same idea, and there's now a website where you can cast your vote for the three main candidates. So far about 3000 votes have been cast, and Ralph Nader is narrowly ahead of John Kerry. The results are broken down by country, so you can see that twice as many Austalians favour Kerry over Nader, while in New Zealand the reverse is true. Interestingly the Netherlands is the only country which seems to have a sizable minority (22%) who favour George Bush.