Allawi said the Fallujah operation is a significant success. Bush's Mini Me. Total corruption is their common denominator.
Every notice how we NEVER see ANY pictures from Fallujah on the news anymore? I wonder why?
For Fallujan refugees, it's the worst of times
Friday, January 14, 2005
BY BORZOU DARAGAHI
For the Star-Ledger
BAGHDAD -- Wafat Hassan is at hope's end, her tale a long stream of woe that has all but dried her tears.
After losing her husband, her house and her hometown, she and her five children, the youngest age 4, wound up at a Baghdad mosque-turned-refugee camp for Fallujans turned out of their city. About 930 people have come to call the camp home.
"What have we done to deserve this?" she cries. "When can we move back to our homes? Shall we be away from our homes forever?"
Two months after Fallujah became a major battleground between U.S. forces and insurgents, many of those who fled are floundering. To them, the upcoming election seems a universe away.
"You give a drowning man a life jacket," said Sheik Hussein Zubayee, a Fallujah native who turned the Mostafa Mosque he oversees into the makeshift camp. "You don't give him a sandwich."
During the last six months of 2004, U.S. troops, aided by Iraq's nascent armed forces, stormed not only Fallujah but other centers of the insurgency, including Tal Afar, Samarra and Ramadi. The stated goal was to root out militants determined to disrupt the Jan. 30 vote.
Interim Prime Minister Ayad Allawi, who approved the Fallujah assault in November, this week called the operation "a significant success in terms of getting the terrorists and ridding the Fallujah people (of) terrorists and insurgents."
But the military action embittered many Sunni Triangle residents whose lives were disrupted, and now they appear unwilling to answer the call of government leaders urging them to vote. A massive Sunni Arab boycott of the election would create a government heavily weighted toward Shi'a Arabs and Iraqi Kurds, and likely would further alienate the Sunni Arab minority at the heart of the insurgency.
But as Hassan's saga shows, suffering can befall Fallujans in a multitude of ways: at the hands of fellow Iraqis, by the weapons of U.S. forces or as a mere consequence of brittle luck.
Fortune began frowning on her about a year ago, when bandits killed her husband while hijacking his car.
About four months ago, the insurgents kicked her out of her home, turning it into a resistance hideout. In November, an American missile flattened the house. Then, her elderly mother got sick.
She scrounged for money to get medication, but nothing seemed to work. About 10 days ago, her cash ran out, and she was kicked out of the small apartment she was renting in Baghdad. She brought her family to Zubayee's camp.
"At least I have food to eat here," she says as she weeps over her mother, who is still ill.
Inside Fallujah, about 40 miles west of Baghdad, Marines continue to come under fire, engage in skirmishes and seize weapons caches. However, a timetable set by the interim government allowed some residents to return home beginning Dec. 23. All the city's neighborhoods will be open for returnees today.
The number of people who have returned is unclear. The interim government put the figure at 60,000, but the U.N. relief agency said Tuesday that only 8,500 of the city's 300,000 residents have come home.
While many Fallujans have returned to inspect their homes, only a small fraction has remained, said Jennifer Pagonis, spokeswoman for the U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees.
The Fallujans from Zubayee's camp who have dared to visit their homes have come away horrified. The fighting has all but destroyed the city, which had emerged almost unscathed from the March 2003 invasion.
Mohammad al-Rawa, a university student, said he found his home destroyed and 90 percent of his neighborhood in ruins.
"There's no water, there's no electricity," he said. "No one can live in the city anymore. Even electricity poles are missing."
According to the Ministry of Industry, which is supervising infrastructure projects in the city, people have running water and electricity for several hours every day.
The interim government has earmarked millions to rebuild Fallujah and has promised families whose homes were damaged or destroyed up to $10,000 each -- about one-fifth of the cost of building a new home in Iraq. Each returning family will also receive about $100 to get started and $500 later, the government said.
Back at the Baghdad mosque, residents try to make the best of their situation.
Zubayee said a group of Americans wanted to donate $25,000 to those living at his camp, but the residents refused the money because they blame Americans for their suffering.
As for the elections, residents of the camp say the game's been fixed, against them and their fellow Sunnis.
"I'm a part of the Sunnis," said Mohammad al-Dulaymi, 45, whose appliance store and home both were destroyed in the fighting. "If I know it will be free and honest elections, I will vote. But I know that the Americans will put whomever they want in there. So I won't vote."
Every notice how we NEVER see ANY pictures from Fallujah on the news anymore? I wonder why?
For Fallujan refugees, it's the worst of times
Friday, January 14, 2005
BY BORZOU DARAGAHI
For the Star-Ledger
BAGHDAD -- Wafat Hassan is at hope's end, her tale a long stream of woe that has all but dried her tears.
After losing her husband, her house and her hometown, she and her five children, the youngest age 4, wound up at a Baghdad mosque-turned-refugee camp for Fallujans turned out of their city. About 930 people have come to call the camp home.
"What have we done to deserve this?" she cries. "When can we move back to our homes? Shall we be away from our homes forever?"
Two months after Fallujah became a major battleground between U.S. forces and insurgents, many of those who fled are floundering. To them, the upcoming election seems a universe away.
"You give a drowning man a life jacket," said Sheik Hussein Zubayee, a Fallujah native who turned the Mostafa Mosque he oversees into the makeshift camp. "You don't give him a sandwich."
During the last six months of 2004, U.S. troops, aided by Iraq's nascent armed forces, stormed not only Fallujah but other centers of the insurgency, including Tal Afar, Samarra and Ramadi. The stated goal was to root out militants determined to disrupt the Jan. 30 vote.
Interim Prime Minister Ayad Allawi, who approved the Fallujah assault in November, this week called the operation "a significant success in terms of getting the terrorists and ridding the Fallujah people (of) terrorists and insurgents."
But the military action embittered many Sunni Triangle residents whose lives were disrupted, and now they appear unwilling to answer the call of government leaders urging them to vote. A massive Sunni Arab boycott of the election would create a government heavily weighted toward Shi'a Arabs and Iraqi Kurds, and likely would further alienate the Sunni Arab minority at the heart of the insurgency.
But as Hassan's saga shows, suffering can befall Fallujans in a multitude of ways: at the hands of fellow Iraqis, by the weapons of U.S. forces or as a mere consequence of brittle luck.
Fortune began frowning on her about a year ago, when bandits killed her husband while hijacking his car.
About four months ago, the insurgents kicked her out of her home, turning it into a resistance hideout. In November, an American missile flattened the house. Then, her elderly mother got sick.
She scrounged for money to get medication, but nothing seemed to work. About 10 days ago, her cash ran out, and she was kicked out of the small apartment she was renting in Baghdad. She brought her family to Zubayee's camp.
"At least I have food to eat here," she says as she weeps over her mother, who is still ill.
Inside Fallujah, about 40 miles west of Baghdad, Marines continue to come under fire, engage in skirmishes and seize weapons caches. However, a timetable set by the interim government allowed some residents to return home beginning Dec. 23. All the city's neighborhoods will be open for returnees today.
The number of people who have returned is unclear. The interim government put the figure at 60,000, but the U.N. relief agency said Tuesday that only 8,500 of the city's 300,000 residents have come home.
While many Fallujans have returned to inspect their homes, only a small fraction has remained, said Jennifer Pagonis, spokeswoman for the U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees.
The Fallujans from Zubayee's camp who have dared to visit their homes have come away horrified. The fighting has all but destroyed the city, which had emerged almost unscathed from the March 2003 invasion.
Mohammad al-Rawa, a university student, said he found his home destroyed and 90 percent of his neighborhood in ruins.
"There's no water, there's no electricity," he said. "No one can live in the city anymore. Even electricity poles are missing."
According to the Ministry of Industry, which is supervising infrastructure projects in the city, people have running water and electricity for several hours every day.
The interim government has earmarked millions to rebuild Fallujah and has promised families whose homes were damaged or destroyed up to $10,000 each -- about one-fifth of the cost of building a new home in Iraq. Each returning family will also receive about $100 to get started and $500 later, the government said.
Back at the Baghdad mosque, residents try to make the best of their situation.
Zubayee said a group of Americans wanted to donate $25,000 to those living at his camp, but the residents refused the money because they blame Americans for their suffering.
As for the elections, residents of the camp say the game's been fixed, against them and their fellow Sunnis.
"I'm a part of the Sunnis," said Mohammad al-Dulaymi, 45, whose appliance store and home both were destroyed in the fighting. "If I know it will be free and honest elections, I will vote. But I know that the Americans will put whomever they want in there. So I won't vote."