Kuwait Archive - Let me tell you

Changing History

Veröffentlicht am 5. März 202217. Mai 2022 von RanaSchreib einen Kommentar

In the middle of the Ukrainian crisis and all that’s happening in the world right now, I keep seeing a lot of parallels with what happened in August 1990. Back when Iraq invaded Kuwait under the leadership of Saddam Hussein.

A large country, economically exhausted, turning the eyes of the world towards it, by invading its much smaller neighbour country.

And although it was no surprise, it was a surprise.

What started as a power show-off turned into an invasion. An invasion like the invasions those same leaders were condemning days before.

To justify the occupation of Kuwait, a long list of reasons was presented: “Kuwait was originally part of Iraq”, “The people of Kuwait wanted to get back to the roots”, “The leaders of Kuwait threatened to ruin Iraq’s economy” and many more reasons.

I was raised in Baghdad since 1980, when I was 6 years old. I got the full Ba’ath education in school. I was a believer. I sang the national songs, I Saluted the flag every Thursday in school and I loved Baba Saddam. But on the 2nd of August 1990 everything changed. All that I believed in, in the provirus 10 years fall apart in few weeks.

After years of praising the Arabic dream of unity, brotherhood and the one united Arab nation from Morocco to Iraq, the Arab leaders started fighting on the media and uncovering all the hidden ugly sides of each other. Almost all were against Iraq, with some exceptions. Manly because of financial dependencies. Simulator to the political situation today. All against Russia except for some few real “good friends”.

Suddenly the leaders of the Arab countries were no longer respected brothers on the Iraqi news. President Hosni Mubarak was Hosni El-Khafif (meaning “loose Hosni”), the King of Saudi Arabia, the custodian of the two holy mosques, toured into the custodian of the Americans and the prince of Kuwait was the sick man who wanted to marry his daughter because he didn’t know her, having to many wives and children to recognise all of them.

One of the defining events, that made me abhor my country’s politics, was, when the teacher asked us to go to the school library, open all the books, deleted the words “county of Kuwait” and replace them by the words “the governorate of Kuwait”. My friend and I argued with the teacher, that we should not change history. The time the book was published it was a country. Even if it is now considered a governorate, it is not a reason to change the past and maybe soon it will be a country again? (We didn’t add: Since the whole world is preparing for the war, to free Kuwait). Our teacher just said: “Stop talking. These are orders from the ministry. Just do it!”. “And use pens. The change must be permanent!”, she added. Our hidden protest was that we used pencils and just crossed out the words with a light line.

For me, and maybe a lot of other Iraqis, the world before the invasion of Kuwait was a totally different one, than the world I woke up to, on that black August morning in 1990.

The latest events have brought back this bitter feeling of disappointment.

I see a lot of similarities but differences too. The similarities in escalating the conflict internationally instead of diplomatic de-escalation. The world starts arming like crazy. The news split the fighting parties into the good guys and the bad guys depending on the channel one is watching. The UN make sanctions that mostly cause the poor to become poorer and the megalomaniac to get crazier. While the US plays the role of the hero that will rescue the world, even though they have poured the most oil into the fire the first place.

The big difference now is the fact that this time the villain is the mighty leader of Russia and not the leader of Iraq. When Saddam threatened to destroy the world, the world knew exactly what he possessed and how efficient it was. An Austrian, working for a German company in Iraq once said: “We can sell to Iraq every weapon we want, as long as it is missing some bolts, if you know what I mean!”. While Putin’s threat, of making the world see what it had never seen before, is real. Especially if 30 countries led by the USA would try to free Ukraine with a military act.

To mention here is that, when the US invaded Iraq with false reasons and committed one war crime after the other, Bush jr. was not represented by the media as the bad guy. No sanctions were made on the US, no boarders or airspaces were closed, and the international criminal court will never charge him.

I had a relative who used to say: “same, same but different!”. Maybe this brings it to the point.

The Name of the Father and the Son

Veröffentlicht am 9. Dezember 20189. April 2020 von RanaSchreib einen Kommentar

George Bush senior passed away on Friday the 30th of November 2018, at the age of 94.

That was the first headline I read last Saturday morning, when I was checking the news on my mobile phone. I looked at his picture and automatically said: „May God take him in his mercy.“ This is a common phrase we use in Arabic when someone dies. But as it came out of my lips, I thought to myself: „Would I take him in my mercy?“

Bush (no matter senior or junior) is a name that, to me, will always be associated with embargo, war, destruction, bombing, no electricity, fear and so on, in other words, an endless list of very dark memories.

I would never deny that the invasion of Kuwait was a crime in its entire means, but the embargo and the wars on Iraq that followed weren’t any less of a crime. And they proved that diplomacy and good offices, unfortunately, fail in resolving critical problems.
If wars were given grades for their badness level, the „Operation Desert Storm“ would deserve an „A“ with an extra plus for the bombing of „Amiriyah shelter“ and the „highways of death“ the massacre of the withdrawing soldiers.

It is scary that some people on earth may gain such an enormous power in their lifetime that gives them the mightiness to act like Gods. In a way that a single decision they take could mean misery and death for millions.

It was the 17th of January 1991, when Bush senior spoke his word and the war on Iraq started. After the dramatic events, since we woke up in the morning of the 2^nd of August 1990, to find out that our troops have walked in to Kuwait and changed our status among the nations, to the most hated country on earth, the final act (as we thought at that time) started. And while most of the world watched the famous night camera recording on TV, showing a scene that looked more like fireworks than the actual hell it was, the Iraqi people were being targeted by those „firework“.

I’ll never forget that night. We woke up to the sound of bombing and shooting all around, the sirens didn’t stop crying and the dark night sky was filled with smoke and fire. Realizing that the promised war had started, we gathered in one room and sat stuck to one another. I was shivering from head to toe, covered in a thick blanket and praying to God not to be struck by next rocket. Fortunately my family and I survived, but a lot of people, who weren’t as lucky, lost their lives during this war. That day covered Iraq in a veil of poverty, destruction and death that it is still trying to get rid of.

War is always the wrong choice. There is nothing like a „good war“ and a „bad war“. Even if the first statement of Bush was: „As I report to you air attacks are on their way against military targets in Iraq.“ We all know today that the fire that fell from the sky burned a lot more than just military targets.

These thoughts and memories occupied my mind that whole day, as I kept seeing the headlines of Bush‘s death everywhere and the words of condolences that were spoken out for him. Then shortly before going to bed, I saw a post on Instagram, picturing the Kuwait towers lit up with the American flag and a portrait of Bush. It was subtitled with the words: „In memory of George W. Bush. Hero of freedom.“
An aspect that didn’t come to my mind earlier that day. But yes, of course, he must be a hero in Kuwait: he freed the country. It’s their right to celebrate him. My villain is their hero. Just two sides of one coin.

What a strange world I’m living in. Being responsible for crimes, such as the horrible death of more than 400 civilians (mostly women and children) in the „Amiriyah shelter“, does not mean a person won’t be honored and celebrated as a hero.

Well, I guess he doesn’t really need my mercy to rest in peace.

Girls‘ Day Out

Veröffentlicht am 21. April 201610. November 2016 von RanaSchreib einen Kommentar

It was the 2nd of August 1990 when the Iraqi troops walked into Kuwait. In my opinion one of the biggest mistakes in modern history; but I don’t want to talk about politics now. What happened, happened and we all had to pay and are still paying the price for that and a lot of other mistakes made by politicians all over the world.
Anyway after that day, things started to change dramatically in Iraq. After the first reaction of the international community that said: It is an internal Arabic matter in which it will not interfere, it was soon clear that if Iraq would not withdraw immediately from Kuwait, a big war was about to happen. As a result, the Iraqi government tried every possible way to keep the occupation of Kuwait and keep the war away. One of this ways was sending the people to the streets to protest against the upcoming war. On television the protests were called: „self-organized spontaneous protests“. In reality, schools and government departments were instructed to send their students and employees to the streets to protest.
While the employees and teachers were not happy at all, having to walk for hours shouting slogans in the street, for us, students, anything other than school, homework and exams was most welcome.
We protested almost everywhere: in front of the American, British, French and Saudi Arabian embassies. I was 15 then and attending the Baghdad high school for girls. A day out for us girls was like a fun school trip. The first row was shouting slogans like: „down, down Bush. Long live Saddam.“ and „Bush, Bush! Listen well. We all love Saddam Hussein.“ and so on, while the back rows were busy talking, making fun of everything and everybody and gossiping. I was usually in the back, talking and laughing while moving with the crowd.
One day, I think it was the last time we went on a demonstration before the war broke out, we were walking in Haifa Street, heading to the British embassy. The street was filled with thousands of people shouting and holding Iraqi flags and slogans. My friends and I, a group of seven girls, were walking as usual at the end of our school group talking and talking when we suddenly noticed that we were not walking with our school anymore. We tried to find our teacher or anybody of our school but we couldn’t find anyone. After running from one group to the other, we finally realized that our school went back with the bus that had brought us in the morning and left us behind. They forgot us! Going back on feet would have taken us at least one and half hour and we had no money with us to take a taxi.
We went to a police officer who was standing there to control the street blockades. We tried to explain what happened. We were all talking at the same time, that it was hard for him to follow our story. He took a deep breath and then shouted: „stop talking, all of you.“ We all shut up. Then he added „who is the class representative?“ Fortunately, my friend was our class representative, so she stepped forward and told him the story. He said „fine I’ll stop a minibus for you. The driver will take you to school free of charge.“ We all said: „But we can’t go with a stranger. What if he kidnapped us?“ First he laughed but then he noticed that we were serious. He told us: „You are seven girls, how can a single man kidnap you? If you start talking, he would immediately throw you out of the car.“ Still we had the warnings of our parents in mind and didn’t want to take the risk. The policemen then said: „don’t worry. I’ll make sure he will take you to school safely.“ He stopped a minibus and told the driver to take us to our school. Then he took the driving license from the driver, wrote a note on a ticket and gave it to my friend, the class representative. He said: „When you arrive at school give this paper to the driver and he can come back to pick up his license.“
At first, the driver looked a little bit surprised and he was not happy to give away his driving license, but then he took it easy. After all we were children between 14 and 15years. On the way back to school he was joking and saying that he shares the opinion of the police officer: „Why would anyone want to kidnap a bunch of loud-talking, crazy girls.“
We got back to school and gave him the paper. We were missing for more than an hour and thought our teachers and colleagues would be looking for us, but when we arrived, the bell announcing the end of the school day was ringing and everyone was leaving. We took our bags from the classroom and left the school building.
No one noticed that we were missing.

Meeting Muhammad Ali Clay

Veröffentlicht am 14. Dezember 20117. Januar 2017 von RanaSchreib einen Kommentar

Of course we didn’t get the news from the New York Times back in Baghdad in 1990. I googled it today and thought it will make a good start for my story.
We heard about the visit of Muhammad Ali from the local television and we were so excited that someone as great as him was visiting Baghdad. My sister totally adored him. She used to watch his fights when she was a little girl. As for me, well; I have somehow inherited this love, although I never really cared for boxing.
We decided to go and meet him. We knew that it won’t be easy to find him but it’s a once-in-a-life-time chance and we had to take it. Several locations in Baghdad were provided to host the state visitors. We recognized the place when they showed an interview with Muhammad Ali on TV. He was staying in a small resort on the Tigris side called the Weddings Island (before becoming a resort it was called the Pigs’ Island; even though I have never seen a single pig in Baghdad, but never mind).

We started our mission on Friday morning. My sister, her two best friends and I. We drove to the resort without a plan, as if we were expecting Muhammad Ali to be waiting for us at the entrance! Reaching the resort, we noticed how difficult our mission was; the resort was surrounded by safety barriers and about 50 guards to keep unauthorized people out. „OK, that won’t be easy!“ we parked the car and headed to the checkpoint putting a big and helpless smile on our faces. The eyes of the guards were following us as we walked towards the one sitting at the checkpoint’s gate. We greeted the man but he didn’t even wait for us to end the phrase, he stood up and told us „You shouldn’t be here. The state visitors are staying in the resort and locals are not allowed to enter!“ We all cried out at once „Please, we want to meet Muhammad Ali.“ He just laughed and turned his back on us. But we didn’t give up. We followed him and started to explain how important it was for us to meet him and that we adore him. We were all talking at the same time that we sounded like a bunch of chattering chicken.

The guards started gathering and looking at us as if we were aliens. Trying to meet a celebrity is not a usual seen in Baghdad. We talked and argued with him but it seemed that he didn’t care. We were almost giving up when one of the guards (he looked important) came out of a van and told us to follow him. We walked with him towards our car, while the rest of the guards slowly went back to their position. When we reached the car he asked us: „What do you want from Muhammad Ali?“ „We want to take pictures with him and shake his hand!“ „That’s all? You were arguing for half an hour, just to take a picture with him?“ „Yes, yes!“ he smiled and said: „I’ll take you to him on two conditions: first you don’t tell anyone that I did and second you take a picture of me with Muhammad Ali too.“ He made a short pause then added: „and you bring the developed photo to me, OK? Or I will have to find you!“ Yepppiiii that’s easy, isn’t it? Ammm, but was the last sentence a threat? OK, we will bring him his photo for sure. Why would we keep it?

We all got in to the car; he sat on the front seat and gave a sign with his hand to the guards to open the gate. We were all silent as if we were afraid to say anything that might make him change his mind. We drove slowly through the resort. The place was full of security guards who looked surprised to see us. He told us to stop in front of one of the small houses. He stepped out of the car and went to a group of guards standing there. He talked to them and they all laughed out lowed (I’m sure they were joking about us). He came back telling us that Muhammad Ali was in the restaurant having lunch. We drove to the restaurant holding our breath „please let him be there“. Again lots of guards were surrounding the place. He opened the window and asked one of them: „Is Muhammad Ali inside?“ „Haaaaaa? Who is Muhammad what?“ the man replayed „The Boxer Muhammad Ali, is he inside?“ „Ah, the big one, yes, yes he just went inside.“

At last, we did it. We went into the restaurant and saw him sitting at the head of a large table with his delegation. Our companion was greeting the guards and freeing the way for us to get through. One of the gentlemen standing near Muhammad Ali came to us and told us: „don’t stay long. Say Hello; take your pictures and leave. Lunch will be served in minutes, OK?“ he turned back and told Mr. Muhammad Ali: „The girls came to meet you!“ Muhammad Ali turned his head and looked at us with a smile on his face and stood up. „God is he BIG!!!“ when I shook his hand my hand totally disappeared in his. You know I don’t remember what we said. I think we just kept repeating „hello, nice to meet you, blah blah blah…“ we were too excited to build a meaning full conversation. Never mind, we did it. We shook hands, took several pictures with him and of course took two pictures of Muhammad Ali with our guardian Angel. We left the restaurant with shining faces. We thanked our companion for his efforts and kindness and we promised to bring him the photos as soon as they are developed and he reminded us again „If you don’t bring them I’ll have to find you!“ „Hmm, OK, we will bring them don’t worry.“

We developed the film a month later. By that time the resort was emptied and the smell of war was filling the air. We didn’t search for him and he didn’t find us. I still feel guilty when I go through my photos and see him smiling next to Muhammad Ali Clay.