Final Dispatch

A Few Portraits From Iraq and Afghanistan

         After three and a half years since the US invasion of Iraq, and nearly five since that of Afghanistan, things aren't looking very good for the people that live in either place.   In my recent return to both countries, I did see some rays of hope, but they were always shadowed by a harsh reality. The systems that have been put into place to run these countries, simply do not work.   Security is the main issue, and it trumps all others.   Without some basic level of stability, nothing functions.

         People are why this matters.   Yes, our lives can be affected by these conflicts, but most of us have no idea what life is like for Iraqis and Afghanis, who will be dealing with the effects of these conflicts for the rest of their lives.   The single most important perspective I gain from my travels is a glimpse into other's experiences, and so I end this series with a few brief portraits of regular people.

         Mohammad Abu Zahara owns a mechanic shop.   He is also a member of Muqtada Al-Sadr's militia, the Madhi Army.   When there is work for him, such as fixing my driver's car after it was damaged in a hotel bombing, he can usually be found at the garage.   Sometimes, he gets a call from the militia, though, and the doors close.   He puts on the all black uniform and face covering, carries an AK-47, and does what he's told to do.

         Al-Sadr's support has been steadily increasing since the fall of Saddam, having waged two uprisings against the US military, and emerging more powerful after each one.   He now has legitimate political clout in the form of parliament seats, and he is only getting stronger.   Like Mr. Abu Zahara, many of the country's Shia majority swear allegiance to Al-Sadr, and many of these are members of Iraq's new army and police force.   This blurring of loyalties is a major concern, since the Madhi Army is one of the main players in the sectarian violence, which is responsible for hundreds of bodies found every week.

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         Women in Baghdad's Yarmouk Hospital looks on as her husband, severely wounded in a suicide bombing, waits for treatment.   It is old news that health care is abysmal in Iraq.   In the capital city, there is so much sustained violence that the breaking point has long since been forgotten, and entire hospitals are triage areas.   A recent United Nations report puts the death toll from violence in the past two months at 6,599.   Emergency rooms and morgues are filled beyond capacity, and there's no end in sight.

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A young man plays volleyball in Kabul, a city that is home to more than has 800,000 disabled people.   After twenty-five years of war in Afghanistan, amputees are visible on nearly street in every province.   Armed attacks and bombings continue, land mines and unexploded ordnance still litter fields and roadsides, and other causes of disability (like unsafe working conditions) all contribute.    

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         Somayeh studied journalism in school, and now interns with an aid organization in Herat, Afghanistan.   Like many people in Western provinces, she lived for several years in Iran, but has moved back to the land of her family, in hopes of its future stability.   She is very quiet, as is not uncommon of Afghani women, but has a silent tenacity about her that is not immediately visible, and is always surprising her superiors, spearheading new projects.

         Much difficulty faces almost everyone in Afghanistan, but the path for females is limited and difficult to navigate.   Somayeh has struck a balance between tradition and independence that seems to work, at least for her, at least for now.            

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         The Children of both Iraq and Afghanistan have much to face in the coming years.   Of the forces that compete in forming their development, violence and poverty will often be prominent.   If children are not protected from the worst of life's horrors in countries where our foreign policy is such a driving force, what excuse do we have?