[Peace] From Najaf, Iraq

[Matt Reichel]

My friend and comrade from Sacramento/Yolo Peace Action and the California 
Zapatista Solidarity Network, Mario Galvan, is currently in Iraq as part of 
a peace delegation called "Peace Between Peoples," working to stop the 
United States from bombarding the shiite stronghold.

This memoir is worth reading:


From: "Mario Galvan" <mariogalvan44 at hotmail.com>
To: mariogalvan44 at hotmail.com
Date: Thu, 29 Apr 2004 10:46:55 -0700
Subject: [Paaffiliates] Peace Between Peoples Update: Najaf 4-29-04 9:38 am



Dear friends,

Yesterday we carried out a very successful action at the largest
military
base here, on the outskirts of Najaf on the road to Kufa. We were able
to
get a considerable amount of media, which no doubt contributed to the
success of our action, and helped insure our safety.

We held a press conference at the al-Najaf Sea hotel at 1:00 pm. There
were
almost twenty video cameras trained on us, and more still
photographers. The
crowd of media was perhaps 30 altogether. We unfurled the banners we
would
carry to the base: one said "Peace" in arabic, english, and spanish.
One
said "U.S.A.:  Don't Be The New Saddam. Come Home" in English
(addressed to
the U.S. soldiers).  One said "No U.S. occupation" in Arabic. A third
banner
read "Peace" in Arabic, English and Spanish (Salaam in Arabic letters,
Peace, Paz).  Each member of the delegation made a brief statement, and
then
we left in a cab for the base, which was just a kilometer or so down
the
road. On the way, the press followed us on all sides, with their
cameras
following us through the windows. Later we heard that the footage of
our
event was carried on twelve different stations. There press here is
largely
from the Arab world.

Stopping about a 200 yards or more before the base, we unfurled our
banners,
and spread out, with Peter in the middle carrying a white flag, to
indicate
our peaceful intent and unarmed, nonviolent approach.  Our greatest
fear was
of snipers, for we had heard many stories of people being shot without
warning, and of shots fired at cars that just slowed down on the road
passing the hospital/military base. As we approached, a flock of
cameramen
came with us, both ahead and behind.

We had trouble identlfying the entrance to the camp, as it was behind a
large concrete barrier. We crossed the street to a gravel road that
went
around the barrier, and just as we stepped off the sidewalk onto the
gravel,
a shot rang out. A flock of birds flew up from inside the base, and we
stopped and raised our free hands, continuing to hold the banners. It
was a
tense and frightening moment, but a relief also, in that because none
of us
had been hit, it showed that it was only a warning to stop.

We talked as we stood there, trying to decide whether to go ahead, or
to the
side, as we were standing in a spot partially blocked by trees, and
felt it
would be better to be in the open. We were careful to stand with the
banners
to one side, not blocking a view of our bodies, so that it would be
clear
that we were unarmed. We had left all bags and packs behind for the
same
reason. A few anxious minute passed, and just as we were going to begin
moving forward, we saw some soldiers appear to our right from behind
the
concrete barrier (the barrier was about12 feet tall!). They motioned us
to
come ahead, and we did so, careful to walk slowly and keeping our hands
raised. Three of the four soldiers remained crouched behind trees,
weapons
pointing out toward the road, and one approached us.

PFC Lopez was courteous and professional. He invited us to come in
behind
the shelter, saying that we were in great danger standing there in the
open.
It seemd somehow ironic, after all of our travels, but then we realized
that
HE was in great danger standing there with us. We moved ahead to the
cover
of the concrete wall, then stopped to debate whether we should accept
his
invitation to come inside. We had previously decided not to enter their
perimeter, fearing that the US military authorities might try to detain
us.
They said that Meg, who had made the initial contact with the Coalition
Provisional Authority in Baghdad, would be the only one allowed inside
to
speak with the officers, but that the rest of us could come inside the
first
defensive position, which consisted of two sandbagged bunkers flanking
a
road that was blocked by a parked dump truck.

Meg went ahead while we talked it over, and we soon decided that it
would be
better to go inside. We wanted the chance to talk with the soldiers
inside,
which would have been impossible from where we were. It was a wise
decision,
because we were able to talk at length with PFC Lopez, a Cuban from
Florida.
He had been sent to meet us because the gate was defended by troops
from El
Salvador, and he was the only Spanish-speaking soldier in his unit. The
other soldiers who had come out to meet us were El Salvadoreans, as
were the
men in the bunkers. Lopez spoke good English as well as Spanish, and
responded to our questions in a warm and human, if slightly guarded
way.

We asked him how it felt to be in Iraq, and for any impressions he
might
want to share with us. He replied that he was a soldier, and that he
was
doing his job. His unit was moving in to replace the Spanish troops
that
were leaving. He was a medic, and was preparing the clinic. We pointed
out
to him that the military base was set up in the largest hospital in
Najaf,
and that it contained 400 of the 900 hospital beds in all of Najaf. He
replied that resistance fighters had attacked the base from the
hospital,
and that they had simply "secured" the hospital. When asked why the
military
base had been set up next to a hospital in the first place, he said he
didn't know. The base, he said, was here when he arrived, and had been
there
for some time.

We spoke about how many Iraqis had told us that they were glad the US
had
invaded and deposed Saddam Hussein, but how US behavior and
insensitivity
had gradually turned them against the US. He gave us the US
soldier's-eye-view of the situation. They are targets every time they
leave
the base, and even within the base are attacked regularly (every night,
he
said) with mortars. He told of children of 10 throwing grenades at
them, of
soldiers stopping to help a woman whose car had broken down along the
road,
only to discover, as the woman fled and the car exploded, that it was a
trap
for them. "No soldier likes war," he said, "but it's our job."

A highlight of our visit was a mortar attack. Explosions began to sound
as
we lounged in the shade of a covered area behind the bunkers facing the
road. He directed us to a concrete shelter just a few feet from where
we had
been talking. We scrambled inside, and as we did, were amazed to see
just
outside, one of the guys from El Salvador, standing out in the open,
look up
at the sky and, raising his arms, call out "Here I am! Come and get
me!" An
interesting act of bravado, perhaps for our benefit.

The mortar attack was brief, but as we sat in the bunker waiting for
the
"all clear," we were joined by Lt. Col. Francisco Flores of El
Salvador.
Like Perez, he was friendly, and the conversation went on. Perez came
in and
we talked. As we had not brought any bags with us, none of us had our
notebooks. Too bad we didn't have a tape recorder with us! No doubt we
will
be able to report on all of this in more depth later, but in general,
the
two soldiers were warm and human with us, and we were glad that we had
decided to come in and talk with them. They were frank, and answered
our
questions candidly. However, they made it clear that they followed
orders
(Nuremburg flashed through my mind), and that they had no control over
decisions that were made above their heads. Nor would they offer
opinions on
the wisdom, legality, or morality of those orders.

I think it's safe to say, on behalf of the delegation, that our
interaction
with these men only strengthened our conviction that peace, if it is
ever to
come, must come from the peoples of the world. We can't expect it from
the
governments, who sit safely in comfortable offices making decisions
that
force the hell of war on soldiers and civilians alike. Both the
soldiers we
met inside this base, and the people of the resistance we met in Najaf,
are
playing out a tragedy being written by powerful men far away from the
suffering and pain they are causing. The people of Iraq, as exemplified
by
the people of Najaf, of Fallujah, of Baghdad, are caught in between;
their
wishes for a normal life sacrificed to the quest of a small handful of
men
for power and control.

Why do we become soldiers, closing our minds and allowing others to
think
for us; giving our lives... and taking the lives of others... to futher
the
ambitions of men who have no regard for the lives of others? Brian, one
of
our members, pointed out to the soldiers that every human being has a
moral
responsibility to an authority even higher than their governments: a
divine
authority that, speaking through the voices of all religions, calls on
us to
love one another, to be kind rather than cruel, to help one another
rather
than hurt each other.

After maybe an hour or so, a hummer drove up, bringing Meg back to join
us.
They said we were free to go when we pleased, but before leaving, we
formed
a circle of prayer there between the bunkers and shelters, and offered
our
prayers for the safety of everyone in Najaf and all of Iraq. The
soldiers
standing around us seemed somehow embarrassed, and gradually backed
away,
leaving us alone in the hot sun.

I don't remember right now what the others said (I'm sure that they
will all
eventually share their versions of all this with the list), and not
even
exactly what I said, but it was something about my impression of the
army
base as an expression, not of strength and power, but of weakness and
fear.
Our human heritage of thousands of years of war should teach us that
war is
not the answer to war; it demonstrates a failing of our society. We
must
look instead to an awakening of the spirit of humanity within us.

Only love will open the door inside each of us that enables us to see
that
every other human being is just the same as us, deserving of respect,
yearning for love and connection, and wishing only... as PFC Lopez so
eloquently put it... to be with his family, to go to the beach and play
with
the kids, to have a barbeque on Sunday, mow the grass in the back yard,
to
laugh and be safe at home.

A great work await us, the peoples of the world, if we truly want
peace. We
must escape the grip of the men who have taken control of the
governments of
the world. We must learn to see ourselves not as American or Iraqis,
but as
human beings, brothers and sisters, one human family.

When shall we begin?

_________________________________________________________________
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