Re-Entry: "It's in God's Hands"
By Kelly Hayes-Raitt
The Columbia explosion occurred right after I'd arrived in Baghdad. I
felt guilty: one is supposed to be home to share tragedies. I was half
a world away and helpless.
I can't shake the faces and the voices of the people who touched me during
my 10 days in Iraq. There's a national tragedy occurring there, and I'm
half a world away and helpless.
I find myself praying more. When I asked Iraqis what they were doing
to prepare for war, they cupped their hands, looked skyward and said "Insha'allah."
("It's in God's hands.") I was struck by both their helplessness
and their strength of faith.
I thought I'd be numb watching Wednesday's bombings, but it didn't take
me long to move from despair to fury. Listening to President Bush's attempt
to justify his own unleashing of weapons on unarmed civilians, I was incensed
by his insistence in invoking God's blessing for his very ungodly acts.
Given that nearly every major Christian religious leader (including the
Pope) has denounced this war, the President's piety feels blasphemous.
I am livid that the President insists on invoking the memory of firefighters
and other emergency workers who died at the Twin Towers as justification
for terrorizing Iraqi children, women and men. Of all his explanations
for initiating this war, fighting terrorism is by far the weakest.
In fact, by his aggression, President Bush has made the United States
more vulnerable to extremist anti-American attacks and may alienate Arab
allies in joining us in fighting terrorism.
One of my scariest moments in Baghdad was when North Korea threatened
to launch a first strike against the United States if we launched a first
strike against Iraq. Here I was, standing at Ground Zero in Baghdad, preparing
to go home to Ground Zero in Los Angeles.
The President's language infuriated me. He throws around terms like "collateral
damage" which divorce us from the impact of our actions. Collateral
damage means dead moms and dads.
I'm incensed by his platitudes to the families of our soldiers. The greatest
support he can give our young men and women in the Gulf is to bring them
home -- unharmed and immediately.
While watching the first wave of bombings, I called Amira Matsuda, our
Iraqi guide who now lives outside Dallas. I hadn't spoken with her since
our return. We had visited her family in Babylon. She reached a brother
Tuesday morning, but was not able to get through after that.
Phones are down; she's very worried about her mother, who is old and
in ill health. If hospitals are overwhelmed with civilian casualties and
injuries, who will care about an old woman with bad circulation?
Amira reported that schools and offices were closed after President Bush's
speech Monday night and people were encouraged to stay indoors. People
in Baghdad are reluctant to leave; they remember the looting that occurred
during the Gulf War. After 12 years of sanctions, there's not much left
to defend, but it's all they have.
In 1991, we dropped 90,000 tons of explosives over 42 days. Between 50
percent and 70 percent of our bombs missed their military targets and
hit instead roads, bridges, food transportation routes, sewage treatment
facilities and drinking water plants. The President's current plan is
to drop ten times that amount to fulfill his shock and awe strategy.
I am shocked. I feel an acute responsibility to the generous people I
befriended to do everything I can to lessen the impact of our bombing
- and then to do a little more.
Iraqis we met wouldn't let us leave our Baghdad hotel. Waiters came out
for one last photo, our government minders lingered to pose for pictures,
the bread guy going by on the street asked for a photo -- even the police
officers stationed on the corner wanted pictures.
I realized we were their lifeline: they had so much faith in our ability
to come home and stop the bombing. One of the waiters picked me a bouquet
of dusty marigolds.
On Flight Day 15, a message was sent by the astronauts of the Columbia:
"From our orbital vantage point, we observe an earth without borders,
full of peace, beauty and magnificence. And we pray that humanity as a
whole can imagine a borderless world, as we see it, and strive to live
as one in peace."
Insha'allah.
Kelly Hayes-Raitt, a member of Santa Monica's Commission on the Status
of Women, was one of ten women from Southern California who joined a humanitarian
mission to Baghdad that returned from Iraq on February 12. She will speak
about the impact of war on women Saturday, March 22 at 10 a.m. at the Pacific
Palisades Library 861 Alma Real Dr., Pacific Palisades. For information
call 581-4421. |