From Our Country Directors

 

Regional Coordinator Manal Omar’s Journal April 2005

Sunday, April 16th, another brave soul and humanitarian worker in Iraq was killed. I learned from a friend that Marla Ruzicka of Campaign for Innocent Victims in Conflict (CIVIC) was killed with her driver on the infamous Baghdad airport road. My friend knew that too many times I found out about a death of another aid worker through the cold ink on a paper, or the matter of fact announcement on one of the satellite channels. This time she wanted to make sure I heard the news of Marla from a friend. I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude recalling how I first learned of another aide worker Margaret Hasan's alleged death.

I hung up the phone. I continued my meeting, and went home. I woke up early the next day and went to another meeting to organize Women for Women International’s conference on how women can negotiate their rights in the Iraqi constitution. Throughout the day I went from meeting to meeting, and continued my work.

Now, less than 24 hours later, I allow myself to think about Marla. I cannot say I knew Marla but I knew of her legendary commitment to Iraq and securing Iraqi families’ rights, and that nothing could keep her from her work. Marla's death was another incredible loss not only for Iraq, but for all those who work in the humanitarian field.

It has been over a year since the first deaths of international civilians in Iraq. For each death, we, the remaining internationals working or traveling into Iraq, had an excuse - an indirect way to blame the dead. She worked too closely with the US government. She was in Iraq for a long time and caused waves. She refused to travel with security. She stayed out too late. She pushed too hard. She trusted the wrong people. We find any excuse to distance ourselves from the reality that we may be next. Instead of growing more and more horrified about the deaths, I felt a part of me had grown numb.

When I heard the news of Fern Holland and Salwa Omaishi assassination, I nearly collapsed, and could not function for days. As news filtered in for more people, the reality of death that has always been around us now stood firmly in our face. And over time something inside of me began to accept it. So when I heard the news of Marla, I continued my day. Nonetheless, the numbness and the sense of emptiness in my heart weighed me down.

Many people have asked me how I deal with the events in Iraq. More and more I realize I simply don't. I take one day at a time, and do whatever needs to be done to ensure our work moves forward. When my friend shared the news that Marla had been killed, we were both speechless. Strangely, only those working in Iraq can appreciate our consolation was that Marla’s was a "wrong place, wrong time" death, not a kidnapping or targeted killing.

Being based outside in Amman and commuting into Iraq makes things even more difficult, more traumatic, for me. At least inside you can’t see the forest for the trees, and the mission of helping Iraqi women becomes the most important objective. Recently, my Women for Women International team in Iraq had to travel through what is known as the Triangle of Death. The night before they left I could not sleep, eat, or drink. I stayed up and called them before they left Baghdad, and could not rest until I received the email assuring me of their safe arrival. As much danger and death as we face as internationals in Iraq, for Iraqis it grows exponentially. Yet the Iraqis continue. I relish in their hopes and dreams of a better future. It is contagious. My Iraq team’s trip yet again reminded me of the dangers our Iraqi local staff faces on the frontlines every day. Marla was among the few who remained by their side to the very last minute. In many ways, I envy her inner strength.

I do not want to intrude on Marla’s family with my personal condolences. Nothing I would say would be enough. But what I believe is that everyone should know about Marla’s dedication. Her tenacity was priceless, not just for the Iraqi people, but for anyone who works in the field. Marla was not only fighting for Iraqis, but her presence was a call for humanitarian workers to be there and be active and not merely to be in a secure compound or hotel surrounded by military, but to reach out as truly neutral humanitarian aid givers who works directly with the Iraqi people. Perhaps Marla’s vision could not fit the reality of Iraq. The problem, I see, remains with the reality, and not with the vision.

Earlier on Sunday, I was in a discussion about where the international community had gone wrong. How did the international NGOs and humanitarian workers lose the space and access needed to show Iraqis another face? Was the policy of international NGOs going low profile one that allowed others to define their mission? I do not know the answer, but one of the greatest tragedies of the situation in Iraq is my firm belief that it did not have to be this way.

There was a clear failure on the part of all those involved, and now we are suffering the consequences. This is the root of frequent discussions among international aid workers: why do we keep going back to Iraq? It’s not for money we put ourselves at risk. It’s not a cowboy mentality, not for the high, and not because we are emergency junkies. Instead, there is a clear pull for those of us who have been in Iraq over the last two years to either come back or find a way to stay involved. Whether it’s the US soldier who goes back home and works for Iraq from afar or the international aid worker who keeps returning to Iraq to work within the community - the pull to Iraq is strong.

I cannot speak for all aid workers, but I know for myself I can never completely leave Iraq until I feel my mission is complete. Iraqis have sacrificed so much, and to abandon is something I personally refuse to accept on a moral level. It doesn’t mean international aid workers need to live in Iraq. Iraqis are doing rebuilding on their own. Iraqis are on the frontline. They should not have to do it on their own nor should have to rely on military forces and private coalition contractors to rebuild their country. The international community owes it to the Iraqi people to assist them in their struggle to rebuild their nation. While the conditions are treacherous, a sense of humanitarian solidarity is something that must be created. Over the past two years, international aid workers’ mobility and access has severely been limited, to the point of making us handicapped. Marla was not ready to give up that right so easily. Unless we stay engaged, I fear our work in humanitarian aid and development assistance will be discredited for decades to come. And our work, my work, Marla’s work would be discredited. We can not allow that to happen.

Regional Coordinator Manal Omar’s Journal March 2005

Dear Friends, family, and supporters,

I wish everyone a wonderful International Women’s Day! For many, reflection and resolutions come at the start of the New Year, but for me, I always use International Women’s Day as a time of reflection on my challenges and accomplishments of the past year. No matter what obstacles I have faced, for some odd reason, I always feel optimistic and re-energized on March 8th, a day that women have celebrated since 1857. So I would like to seize this moment of strength I can draw on annually and use it as a chance for reflection on my time in Iraq.

For many of you, it has been a long time since I have written or since you have heard from me about events occurring on the ground in Iraq. I think the main reason I have not tried to capture the past few months experience on paper is a refusal to process what is happening, which at first sight may cause panic and seem like chaos. The whirlwind of feelings I have are very much intertwined with the feelings of the Iraqis I have lived with for now close to two years—making me appear to be just as fickle as they are. I switch back and forth from disappointment to hope to depression to optimism so quickly and frequently that I have developed mental whiplash. These changes of mood are understandable as the security situation could plummet almost anyone into depression. Yet the determination of the Iraqis to move forward also creates a strong sense of optimism. This optimism is contagious, and for someone immersed in the society, it cannot be denied. At the same time, the Iraqis’ fears, disappointment and feelings of betrayal at the deteriorating security situation in their country also is undeniable. The two overwhelming feelings make it seem like I am caught in a revolving door between hope and despair.

I believe the sense of betrayal comes from never imagining the situation would get as bad as it did. I never anticipated that I would look back and feel foolish for the hope and dreams for Iraq that I once felt. I never imagined the day would come when I would be expelled from the wonderful streets of Baghdad, the magnificent and warm hospitality of my friends from the south and the vibrant life in the northern Kurdish areas. The months filled of kidnappings and deaths of people close to me, both foreign and Iraqi, left me with an unbearable feeling of being defunct. I now feel like a bandit in Iraq, not allowed to sleep in the same location and traveling under a guise due to fear of falling into the wrong hands. The last time I left Iraq I was practically smuggled across the border, and when I arrived on the other side, I heard of the possible killing of Margaret Hassan. (1) I collapsed, ready to allow myself to be swallowed by defeat.

But Iraqis were not so willing to fall into the jaws of defeat. They reminded me that the martyrs who were falling gave us even more of a reason to continue our work, and that the women who believed in us would provide the fuel for our programs. We went underground, but I am proud to say we never stopped. As the elections approached, I felt the fervor and hope of the Iraqis return. Change was inevitable—too much bloodshed and energy had been spent to allow this opportunity to pass.

In January 2005, the Iraqis taught me the most valuable lesson—despair is not a bottomless pit, but hope is—once a person throws themselves into complete hope it will provide an endless source of energy. Yet, I could not share their hope for the elections and braced myself for another failure for Iraqis to overcome. But the Iraqis were determined to prove me wrong—and they did.

For many of my friends, the idea of holding elections was a farce—a process that even under normal circumstances and a normal timeline would have been extremely difficult. With Iraq in chaos what was the chance for a successful election? It was hard for me to disagree with these arguments. Nonetheless, I knew very well the tenacity of the Iraqi people and maintained that the determining factor for the success of elections would be the Iraqis’ belief in the process. This was where I allowed my faith room to grow, as I knew the elections would be the barometer for how much Iraqis wanted change. The personal risk for participation was clear—would Iraqis decide the process was worth the risk?

One of the first things I realized about the elections was how irrelevant my own reservations were, and like many times before, I reminded myself that this was not about my own views and experiences from other countries—it was about Iraq and how the Iraqis feel. I think this idea is something many people have lost sight of. Women for Women International was among the witnesses of the out-of-country voting for Iraqis in Jordan, and I was happy that the observation team consisted of Iraqis who could witness the process themselves. Some people are determined no matter what to prove that the elections were a failure. I would like to shift attention back to the Iraqis and what the elections meant to them.

Iraqis came out to vote in masses, and although I do not refer to any statistics, phone call after phone call from across Iraq reported the long lines at the voting stations. I was amazed. Even Iraqis were amazed by the turn out. One Iraqi writes, “It was such a beautiful experience! It was something amazing watching the crowds walking miles and miles just to get to these boxes and vote. I saw people on wheelchairs. I saw blind people guided by their families. I saw very old people with smiles on their faces. I heard people talking about how this is the first time this happened in Iraq in more than 50 years. This is half a century! I walked with my dad and brother about 1.5 miles to reach the election centre. I couldn't imagine a better success for the elections, in fact, I'm amazed by the numbers heading to vote.

”Naturally, security was the primary concern, and indeed many explosions on election morning made me wonder if there would be a turnout. One young woman from Baghdad writes, “We wore our bright clothes just like for the first day of Eid, had breakfast and then walked to reach the electoral post by 8:15 a.m. (2) We spent about one hour to participate in this new experiment, with multiple checkpoints and a high security alert. At 9:40 a.m., after we were back at home, we heard a loud explosion in the area of our local electoral post. There was a man hiding his hands in his pockets, refusing to be searched. The police insisted on searching on him, and at that moment he bombed himself and killed about eight people, including a child. The place was so crowded. But what is wonderful and brave is that it became more crowded after the explosion even though the American forces asked people to go home and come back to vote an hour later while they searched and cleaned the place. But the people refused. They said ‘we will stay until you are done and then vote.’”

The stories of tragedy were balanced with stories of true heroism. A security guard at one of the voting centers noticed a suicide bomber and sacrificed his own life by tackling the bomber and running with him to minimize the fatalities. In an act of kindness, a father of three brought tea to the Iraqis operating the polling stations and was struck by one of the bombs.

A friend and someone I consider to be a pioneer for Iraqi democracy wrote, “Although we lost 44 people on election day, in one day Saddam killed more than five thousand in Halabcha. (3) Our people didn’t think their lives were cheap when they went to vote. They voted because they felt their lives were precious, and it was their decision to keep it this way.”

Of course, there are those who shared with me their disappointments. One Iraqi from Baghdad whose family is in Falluga, wrote that his polling station was more than an hour and a half away, and because all Iraqis were walking to the polls due to the curfew, he could not participate. He was also very disappointed in what he saw as reckless behavior from the Iraqi army, such as shooting randomly in the air, and felt that it created a climate of intimidation. Nonetheless, he admitted that in the days following the elections, he felt a sense of peace in Baghdad, and if it continues, for him that in itself was worth the world.

Another older man who has been cooperating with our organization since the summer of 2003 reminded me that democracy is not some theory that is discussed or taught in school or at the university but something that emerges with practice and experience. For the first time in his memory, Iraq was finally able to take the first step in building its own experience of democracy.

I can’t hold back my own reservations, nor do I think it serves the best interest of Iraqis to silence these doubts. For close to two years, I have seen too much lip service, too much smoke and mirrors, too many false promises and way too many unnecessary deaths to allow myself to fall into the trap of unmonitored hope. If the elections were an Iraqi wedding as they are commonly being described, I must remind the newly-elected National Assembly to add electricity, water, security and job creation to the bridal registry.

The past couple of years have proven that enthusiasm is short-lived if slogans are not backed up by deliverables. Iraqis are too intelligent to fall for illusions. Cooperation and enthusiasm will only be maintained if the elections are followed by tangible results that prove there will be a difference in their lives.

I speak of the elections now on International Women’s Day because 2005 will witness many more historic events—most importantly, the writing of the constitution. Many women I know across the globe are expressing despair about the future of Iraqi women. The same reservations and sense of hopelessness about the elections are re-surfacing about the referendum to be held in mid-October 2005. (4) But Iraqis have hope, and Iraqi women are determined to safeguard their rights. They have proven that with little resources, little support, and only lip service to support their cause, they can earn their place at the decision-making table by winning over 30% of the seats in the newly-elected National Assembly. Iraqi women have proven their place in Iraq’s history throughout the 1900s and on into the 20th century. I am cautiously optimistic that they will not let the opportunity to help shape a new constitution slip through their fingers. I hold onto the stories of the women on the ground. I have a picture in my mind of the Iraqi woman from a socially and economically excluded area who threw candy in the air after she placed her vote—an Iraqi custom after a wedding to express joy and ecstasy.

Iraqis did their part, and now the international community must do its share to support the Iraqis in being the main decision-makers for their future—after all, they are the ones with the most at stake.

The process of holding the elections has set the tone for 2005, and for one Iraqi friend, it has “returned … a sense of pride and nationalism.” Today, the debate is not about whether there is an army of occupation or one of liberation or where the weapons of mass destruction are. Although we should not ignore mistakes of the past, if we continue to focus on events of two years ago, we will miss the very important present—a present that will determine the rights and status of women for decades to come.

Regional Coordinator Manal Omar’s Journal March 2004

Greetings,

With all of these experiences and the rollercoaster of emotions that have taken place in the last several months, nothing epitomizes it like the incidents that began this week. Within 48 hours, we were taken from ultimate bliss and accomplishment to complete terror and loss.

In celebration of March 8th, International Women's Day, our first of nine women's centers was opened. The string of events left everyone feeling on a complete high, and we were beginning to see the tangible fruits from our hard work. The day started off with Ambassador Bremmer coming to meet with the women who are part of our core program for breakfast. He sat in our traditional Arab style training room, and talked with our women about their expectations for the future. The day continued with further success after success. During the day, the Iraqi Transitional Administrative law was signed. Part of the law supports a goal of including 25% representation of women in the government, a goal that women in Iraq worked hard to gain. We hoped that the coincidence of this historic document signing falling on International Women's Day would not go unnoticed, and would symbolize the role women would have in the future of Iraq. We all felt at the top of the world.

That came crashing down shortly after. On Tuesday, March 9th a team of our staff in Iraq, including three of our Manual Trainers and one of our drivers, Ali, were traveling from Baghdad to the city of Karbala, which is approximately 1 1/2 hours south of Baghdad, to provide training to the women we are serving there. Approximately halfway there, near the town of Hillah, Ali noticed two cars passing them with men inside wearing masks. Ali immediately noticed the threat that these cars posed and began to slow down. The men inside these cars proceeded to open fire on two large cargo trucks in front of our car. Ali immediately reacted and turned around while the trucks were attacked and crashed due to the drivers being shot. Additional vehicles behind ours immediately began to get backed up and also came under fire. Ali and our team were fortunately able to speed away from the scene.

Details of the incident are still coming, but we are very fortunate that our staff was able to escape this serious incident that claimed the lives of not only the truck drivers but also individuals in the other cars as well. This morning, March 10th, I found out that three people - two close friends - were also killed in an incident to Karbala. We do not know if the two incidents were tied. I cannot begin to express the loss I feel - the loss of life, the loss of friends, and the unbelievable loss for Iraq. Few people work with such heart and soul - complete and utter dedication - as my two friends did. They were the reason why we [Women for Women International - Iraq] were in Hillah and Karbala in the first place, and whether it was emails, phone calls, or face to face, they always provided the support and smiles we needed to keep going.

I have many reasons for being in Iraq, but today, added one more. With the death of these three people who dedicated their lives, I am more determined then ever to reach as many women as I can, and to make whatever dent I can in Iraq. As one of the trainers who witnessed the attack said, "They will not win. We will have a new Iraq."

Manal

Regional Coordinator Manal Omar’s Journal December 2003

Dear All,

Well, I am not sure what to say. For the past few weeks the whisper in the back of my mind kept getting louder - what are you doing in Iraq? Why are you risking your life? Are you really making a difference? Today, the whisper was once more silenced.

I had the honor of being among Iraqi women - who I now see as my sisters - when they first heard of Saddam's capture. Thirty women leaders from Iraq were gathered at our conference, and almost all broke into tears and sobs after hearing that the man who had managed to reach into each individual's personal life - and rip it apart by killing their husbands, sons and fathers and raping and maiming their women - was brought to justice. Moreover, the man who brought one of the Arab world's greatest countries to its knees through a dictatorship of fear now found himself at the bottom.

After the tears, the women began to yell "Allahu Akbar," and many of the widows turned to each other as if to say: "See, God does not let the prayers of the oppressed go unanswered. I am sorry I ever doubted, but here is my prayer answered. I have seen with my own eyes - in my lifetime - what I had only dared dream in the most secret chambers of my mind." The Iraqi women's voice became one as they broke out into old Iraqi songs of joy, singing "tonight is an amazing night, a night to celebrate."

In the beginning, the Iraqis were yelling at the international world, asking if the mass graves were not proof enough. Now I look at the women, all of whom had been scarred by his touch - and wonder what more proof do we need. Iraq is a proud, power and determined country - its independence will come, and is well deserved.

My only request to my dear friends and family is to not underestimate what the people have seen, and that for once we take the time to listen and to hear what the Iraqis want, and to help them get there.

With all my love, prayers and thoughts,

Manal

Regional Coordinator Manal Omar’s Journal October 2003

One of the biggest mistakes I made when I accepted the position to set up Women for Women International's local office in Baghdad was believing that I was prepared to face the destruction in post-conflict Iraq. With my experience working in Iraq in 1997 and 1998 with the United Nations Education Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) and my experience working in other post-conflict areas, I was confident that I had a basic understanding that would provide me with an advantage over other aid workers just entering the country. It took a matter of seconds once I drove into Baghdad to realize I was grossly mistaken.

The capital I entered still had some resemblance to the city I had fallen in love with five years ago. There had truly been a magical connection established during my previous time in Baghdad, but I realized that there was so much more depth to the city and its people than I had previously recognized. The city still stood in its grandeur despite the destruction; a sense of cultural, historical, and artistic pride was still oozing out of every street corner. I have often described Baghdad as a woman who had been widowed on her wedding night; the beauty of the bride undeniable yet the pain of her suffering and losses would cause even the hardest of hearts to reach out in sympathy. The mysterious and contradictory attractiveness of Baghdad was still present, but there was something new that lurked in the shadows. Instantly I knew it was something more profound than the tanks and hummers roaring down the street. I had the eerie feeling that the true character of Baghdad that had been buried for over thirty-five years was finally finding its way to the surface. Little did I know that along with the revelation of the capital's character would come unspeakable stories and tales that would reveal the country's true heroines.

 

Footnotes
1) Margaret Hassan, a humanitarian aid worker with Care International, was kidnapped in Baghdad on October 19, 2005. A video of her apparent murder was released a month later, but her body has never been recovered. Hassan, a British and Irish citizen, lived in Iraq since the 1970s with her Iraqi husband and worked with Care since the start of its Iraq operations in 1991.
2) Eid-ul-Fitr is the celebration that marks the end of Ramadan, a month of fasting and reflection observed by Muslims around the world.
3) On March 16, 1988, 5,000 Iraqi Kurds were killed in a chemical gas attack ordered by the Saddam Hussein regime in the town of Halabcha, located in southern Kurdistan, in the northern region of Iraq.
4) Iraq is currently governed according to the Transitional Administrative Law (TAL), an interim constitution drawn up by Iraqi authorities and ratified in March 2004. The interim government elected on January 30, 2005, is mandated to write a new constitution to replace it, providing Iraq with a more permanent legal framework. The TAL states that the new constitution must be drafted by August 15, and a national referendum will vote to approve it on October 15, followed by a general election scheduled for no later than December 15. The clauses in the constitution that pertain to family law, including issues of marriage, divorce, child custody, employment, property rights, etc. are critical to the future status of women’s rights in Iraq.