Iraq: Open hearts, closed borders -Mar 21, 2005


by Peggy Gish

As we approached the cluster of tents in the Gebeil section of Fallujah on 14 March, we didn't know what to expect.

We had been amazed that we even got inside the city through the tight security of three U.S. military checkpoints. We were also warned that if the word got around that Americans were in the city, our lives could be in danger.

We had seen sections of Fallujah where the buildings were destroyed but still standing. But now our group of five CPTers and six Iraqis, several of them Shi'a, witnessed a vast area of the predominantly Sunni city that looked like an earthquake had struck it.

Piles of rubble were everywhere where there had once been homes. Members of one of the displaced families greeted us warmly and invited us into their tent.

As the women heated water for tea on the small gas burner in the corner of the tent, we met many of the twenty family members that live in that 10'by 15' space. The elderly father began to tell the family's story: In November 2004, they had left their home after U.S. forces warned of impending attacks, and went with other Fallujans to occupy a school in the nearby village of Halabreh.

A month ago, the family had to leave the school so it could resume operation, and they returned to Fallujah. Because their home had been totally destroyed, the Red Crescent provided them with the tent and four blankets. They had pulled out broken furniture from the rubble to burn for heat and cooking during the colder weather.

"Thank you," several of the women said to us as they fervently hugged and kissed the women in our group. I walked away in awe. We hadn't done anything tangible to help them and we were from the country that had destroyed their city and their home.

Later, we had a long talk with a Muslim religious leader, who gave a grave and passionate account of Fallujah's devastation and its forced isolation during the past four months. The most important thing we could do to help them, he said, is to let people outside know about the destruction of Fallujah and the suffering of the people. As we talked about the difficulties involved with contacting him from Baghdad, he told us, "Our hearts are open, but the borders are closed." We agreed. We saw the physical borders and the borders of prejudice and fear, but we also experienced, that day, a lot of open hearts.

Christian Peacemaker Teams is an initiative of the historic peace churches (Mennonites, Church of the Brethren, and Quakers) with support and membership from a range of Catholic and Protestant denominations. Supporting violence-reduction efforts around the world is its mandate.

Article reproduced with the kind permission of Christian Peacemaker Teams