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Bishop Tom Gumbleton, Linda Panetta & Bruce in Amsterdam

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Iraq, 2004 - Linda Panetta

In January, 2004, I traveled to Iraq with Bishop Thomas Gumbleton (Detroit, MI), Bruce Cockburn, renowned singer-songwriter (Montreal, Canada), and Johanna Berrigan (House of Grace Catholic Worker). As a photojournalist, it was my intent to document the effects of what nearly one year of war and occupation has meant for the people of Iraq.

While in Baghdad, we met with various religious leaders and NGO's, we accompanied Iraqis during a demonstration for housing rights and traveled to encampments for those displaced by the war. Rick McDowell and Mary Trotochaud, working with American Friends Service Committee (AFSC), coordinated much of the itinerary for us while in Baghdad.

During my visit to Iraq last January (2003), I remember being surprised by how well, structurally, the city looked. Behind the walls, though, in the hospitals where children were dying of otherwise curable illnesses and cancers, and in the homes where loved ones grieved the recent loss of family members killed during US bombing strikes along the "no-fly" zones, the reality of years of sanctions and war were quite apparent.

What I witnessed during my recent trip was so striking that I couldn't help but think how duped the American public is to believing that the situation in Iraq is getting better. The war and ongoing occupation has had a devastating effect on much of the Iraqi population. Many with whom we spoke to were glad that Saddam was gone. But the overwhelming sentiment is a disbelief that the US could not have restored the infrastructure and brought peace and stability to the region by this time. One woman stated "The US planned very well for war, but they didn't plan for peace." A worker at one of the hospitals we visited stated regrettable: "We all hated Saddam and we prayed to God for Bush and after he was gone we were very happy and when I saw Americans I was so happy… But now - it's worse and worse. They're coming only for the oil, nothing more." The people do not feel as though their voices are being heard and wish so much to be able to simply "live as ordinary human beings."

Speaking with a Shiite man in Hai Tarik, where thousands of Iraqis live in abominable conditions, he said "Of course we are glad that Saddam is gone. We were persecuted under him… two of my brothers were killed by Saddam. But my best friend was abducted by the Americans in a house raid and we have no idea where they have taken him. So what's the difference between the two?"

During a meeting with a representative from Human Rights Watch, we were told that there are on average 100 arrests each day and more than 10,000 Iraqis currently being detained. It takes, on average, 2- 3 weeks to be entered into a database and family members have access to only 9 general information centers which are scattered throughout Iraq. And with the phone systems still unavailable to the vast majority of Iraqis, locating a loved one is often an agonizing ordeal. And that's just the beginning. The policy of the US is to only allow 30 visits per day to the detention centers. Therefore, if a family member registers in February to visit a loved one, they will more than likely have to wait until May for the visit.

The extent of the destruction, the effects of lawlessness, and the images of abject poverty and suffering were beyond my expectations. It was commonplace to see mounds of trash strewn alongside the roads and on most street corners, and children foraging through the piles.

Electricity is as sporadic and uncertain as ones ability to maneuver through streets of Baghdad. The traffic lights do not function, and although there are Iraqi police at major intersections, they're instructions to motorists are largely disregarded. Without notice, major arteries are blocked off, bridges are closed down, and streams of sewage flood the roadways. Without electricity, we were told, the pumps can't work properly, so a road that was passable in the morning becomes an impassable cesspool by noon.

The sewage problem doesn't just affect the roads. We visited a squatter camp, known as Al Huda, where more than 1,000 people have made a home in the bombed wreckage of a former training center for Saddam Hussein's security forces. Pools of sewage filled the entranceway. It is estimated that in Baghdad alone, there is a shortage of over 1.4 million homes. The conditions are so desperate that it's understandable that these families are determined to wage ongoing battles against eviction notices.

We readily accepted the invitation from the Al Huda residents to accompany them during a protest outside the headquarters of the Coalition Provisional Authority (CPA). One woman pulled me aside to show me the identification cards of her children and other family members. "This is who they are evicting!" she declared. "Where are we to go?" As she pled with me to help her, she and other mothers began laying out the ID cards on the street for me to document their story. Then a man tugged me on my shoulder and pointed to his friend sitting on the ground with a sign written in Arabic that read: "Everyone has a home, even the doves, but we do not."

The gathering began to heat up as US soldiers demanded that the protestors disperse. In response, the protesters decided to sit on the street in order to deescalate the situation, and to let the soldiers know that they were not going to leave until their voices were heard. It was certainly effective. In the end, the soldiers conceded and allowed the protesters to stay.

The utter chaos and fear that has permeated the Iraqi population has crippled this ancient civilization. Parents are afraid to let their children play outside for fear that they will be abducted, and women have increasingly become the target of violence and rape.

In contrast, we were astonished by the numbing response the Iraqi people have towards the constant crackle of gunfire and the regular occurrence of bombings - as commonplace as cars backfiring in the city. The morning of Jan. 18 the city was rocked by an explosion at the entrance of the CPA, where we were just a day before. Twenty five people were killed and 120 were wounded. Bishop Gumbleton and I were eating breakfast when the explosion occurred. The shockwaves were felt throughout the restaurant. But as we looked around at the other Iraqis surrounding us we noticed that no one had even flinched. In fact, some simply made jokes about how close that one must have been.

The resilience and hope of the Iraqi people is quite remarkable; I was certainly humbled by their patience and determination. This was also reflected in some of the places we visited, such as the maternity hospital run by the Dominican sisters. The mothers were so proud of their newborns; they insisted that we hold and photograph each of the babies in the ward. It's easy to forget the chaos and suffering that is outside the doors of the hospital when you're staring in the eyes of these newborns.

Another place we visited that we saw glimpses of hope and peace in the eyes of children was the Magreb Youth Art Center. This center seeks to offer alternatives to the violence of war. It is a remarkable school where children learn theater, how to make pottery, to use computers, to play instruments, and to sew, among other things. This is a model center which should be replicated throughout the country. Unfortunately, due to the lack of security there are few NGO's still working in Iraq and little money available for such projects. Some schools, we were told, were getting their walls painted to make them appear functional, but most still did not have adequate supplies. One school that we visited in Hai Tarik showed watermarks on the walls that were nearly 6 feet high; 4 children were squeezed onto small benches, and schooling was only available to children under the age of 6. Where are the billions of dollars going? Just like Saddam, it was expressed to us, the US is diverting the majority of the funds into the military.

Despite the enormous obstacles that lay ahead, we drew much strength seeing the determination of the Iraqi people. They will continue to fight for their children, for a better and more peaceful Iraq. And we will use our voices and the photos to work in solidarity with them, for a rapid and new direction of US policy towards Iraq. It is something that we minimally owe to them.