Loading ...
Sorry, an error occurred while loading the content.

Optimism of Intellectuals Ebbs in Iraq

Expand Messages
  • Dan Clore
    News & Views for Anarchists & Activists: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/smygo
    Message 1 of 1 , Oct 1, 2011
    • 0 Attachment
      News & Views for Anarchists & Activists:
      http://groups.yahoo.com/group/smygo

      http://www.nytimes.com/2011/09/30/world/middleeast/after-mahdis-murder-optimism-of-intellectuals-ebbs-in-iraq.html
      September 29, 2011
      Optimism of Intellectuals Ebbs in Iraq
      By TIM ARANGO

      BAGHDAD — In a note to friends brimming with defiance and poetic
      musings, citing as inspiration Jesus, Imam Hussein, Gandhi, Che Guevara
      and the Buddha, Hadi al-Mahdi prophesized his own murder.

      “I will sleep in peace. I want to rest so long, and dream of my name
      written on my grave, dream that my son will come and visit me, even
      once, my son who does not speak Arabic well. I hope that he will be able
      to read his father’s name, the lover of freedom and its martyr.”

      That letter was written in June, and by September he was dead from an
      assassin’s silenced pistol, another journalist killed in Iraq. But
      perhaps none of the killings has resonated so deeply in a nook of
      society that welcomed war with such eagerness.

      The murder has reverberated through Baghdad’s community of journalists,
      artists and writers, spurring a moment of deep introspection for a cadre
      of secular intellectuals, many of whom fled repression under Saddam
      Hussein and returned to their homeland after the invasion with the hopes
      of being the liberal conscience of a new nation.

      Many kept their optimism during the worst years of the war. But now, as
      the American military leaves and they witness scenes of triumph from
      homegrown revolutions in neighboring Arab countries, they are
      reconsidering their country’s own experience with overturning a
      dictatorship.

      “For me, I was still optimistic a year ago,” said Ali Sumari, a
      newspaper editor and film director who returned to Iraq in 2003 from
      Jordan and was a close friend of Mr. Mahdi’s. “Even during the sectarian
      war, I thought things would settle down. Nowadays, I am starting to fear
      that Iraq will never become a stable country.”

      In Iraq, where there is sometimes little distinction between a
      journalist, an artist and an activist, Mr. Mahdi, 45 when he was killed,
      hosted a popular radio show, becoming a powerful voice for those
      disenchanted with their government, often criticizing officials by name
      and receiving frequent death threats. He also produced films and wrote
      plays and columns, and became a leader of a small band of protesters who
      since February have gathered most Fridays at Baghdad’s Tahrir Square to
      protest against the government.

      Just as former political opponents of the government followed American
      tanks into Iraq, intellectuals did too, hoping to shape an architecture
      of ideas to buttress their new democracy. Their experience has been
      starkly different. The politicians returned to preside over a state, the
      journalists to suffer under tactics that they, and human rights
      activists, say mimic those wielded by the former government.

      In February, Mr. Sumari was arrested alongside Mr. Mahdi after a protest
      against the government in Baghdad. The two were beaten and interrogated
      and accused of being sympathetic to the Baath Party — the worst kind of
      insult in Iraq, especially for two men who had fled the country under
      Mr. Hussein’s Baathist government.

      “You can accuse me of anything, even of being a terrorist, but don’t
      call me a Baathist,” said Mr. Sumari. “You humiliate my humanity.”

      Those thinkers and writers who returned represented a powerful
      counternarrative to the exodus of this country’s educated middle class,
      many of whom have yet to come back, leaving a fissure in Iraq’s social
      structure between an often corrupt political elite and a vast underclass.

      Mr. Mahdi had fled to Syria and then Denmark, where his children remain.
      Mr. Sumari had been in Jordan. Another close friend, Ahmed Hussein, a
      newspaper editor, lived in Syria, Lebanon and Canada before the American
      invasion. He was a college mate of Mr. Mahdi’s in Baghdad, and
      introduced him to his first wife.

      When he returned, Mr. Hussein said: “I was very optimistic. I thought
      Americans were smarter than they turned out to be.”

      He had communicated on Facebook with Mr. Mahdi just hours before he was
      killed, discussing an upcoming protest. “Hadi was not only optimistic,
      but a dreamer,” he said. “He thought Iraq would become liberal and
      secular. Even until his last days he was dreaming this dream.”

      Other friends of Mr. Mahdi’s never left, and recalled jubilant scenes of
      reunion after the fall of the government on Mutanabbi Street, a bustling
      pedestrian thoroughfare of booksellers’ stalls that is a hub of
      intellectual life in the old quarter of the capital.

      “We were so happy to have him back in Iraq,” said Karema Hashim, a
      friend of his since the 1980s when they both worked in cinema and media
      in Baghdad. “And he was happy to be back because he thought it was
      liberated.”

      Ms. Hashim, who manages a fine arts high school in Baghdad, spoke
      recently outside a mosque during Mr. Mahdi’s funeral, near a table where
      men were setting out plates of fruit for the mourners. She was dressed
      in black, a tissue in her hand to blot out the tears. “I was so happy
      because all of my friends came back to Iraq,” she said. “We were full of
      power and ambition.”

      Now, she said, “Iraq is in its worst time. I know I’m going to get
      killed one day.”

      Another friend, Satar Muhsin, came to intellectual life after the fall
      of the government. “The best years of my life I wasted in the army under
      Saddam,” said Mr. Muhsin, now a bookseller on Mutanabbi Street. “It was
      war, it was killing, it was hunger and fear.”

      He met Mr. Mahdi in Najaf at a conference featuring the liberal Iraqi
      writer and cleric Ahmed al-Qabbanji, and the two bonded over Mr.
      Qabbanji’s message. “His idea is that Islam is not the solution,” he
      said. “The modern state of technocrats and secularism is.”

      For some, Mr. Mahdi’s murder has elevated the level of fear so high that
      they are even reconsidering their work as journalists. Mr. Sumari said
      he might stop writing temporarily.

      “We’ve become so afraid of what we do and what we write,” he said.
      “We’re changing where we meet, we’re not sleeping at home.”

      Mr. Mahdi was the 93rd journalist murdered in the last decade — many
      more died from indiscriminate acts of war — and in not a single case has
      anyone been brought to justice, according to the Committee to Protect
      Journalists.



      --
      Dan Clore

      New book: _Weird Words: A Lovecraftian Lexicon_:
      http://tinyurl.com/yd3bxkw
      My collected fiction: _The Unspeakable and Others_
      http://tinyurl.com/3tyj9cq
      Lord Weÿrdgliffe & Necronomicon Page:
      http://tinyurl.com/292yz9
      News & Views for Anarchists & Activists:
      http://groups.yahoo.com/group/smygo

      Skipper: Professor, will you tell these people who is
      in charge on this island?
      Professor: Why, no one.
      Skipper: No one?
      Thurston Howell III: No one? Good heavens, this is anarchy!
      -- _Gilligan's Island_, episode #6, "President Gilligan"
    Your message has been successfully submitted and would be delivered to recipients shortly.