From The Abyss.......

From the abyss of the Iraq War (3): 'As much as I want to, I cannot go home'

BY KAZUYA MATSUMOTO STAFF WRITER

2010/11/24

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Lika'a Alkzayer, while stopping by a conference in northern Iraq (Koki Okumura)Keiko Sakai (Makoto Kaku)

The U.S.-led invasion of Iraq began on March 20, 2003.

That day, Iraqi pediatrician Lika'a Alkzayer, 40, was listening intently to news on the radio at her home in Mosul, northern Iraq.

It was not long before she began hearing the heavy thud of munitions hitting their targets. She felt their pounding in her stomach. She rushed to the basement where her family was sheltering and informed them that danger was imminent.

The military campaign that followed was called "Operation Iraqi Freedom." Baghdad fell on April 9, and the government of Saddam Hussein disintegrated.

During that time, power outages were common. Supplies of water, food and other essentials were disrupted. The daily lives of Iraqis were dealt a crushing blow. Even so, Lika'a continued to make the seven-minute walk from her home to the hospital where she worked, in order to fulfill her duties as a doctor.

On May 1, U.S. president George W. Bush, 64, declared an end of major combat operations in Iraq.

However, the turmoil was far from over. Armed conflict intensified, the death toll showed no sign of abating, and conditions in Iraq deteriorated into a quagmire.

Iraqis say the fall of Saddam Hussein's regime did nothing to bring stability to their country; on the contrary, it ushered in a storm of disorder and violence.

Christians living in northern Iraq were targeted by extreme Muslim groups as they expanded their influence. Lika'a was one of them. In October 2008, she felt her life was threatened.

"Christians must get out of town," a member of one such group told her. "If you do not, you will be killed."

The home of another Christian family in Mosul was burned to the ground. Those who resisted were abducted, and their whereabouts became unknown.

"We can't live here anymore."

Fearing for their lives, Lika'a left Mosul with her mother.

One week later, a youth who had threatened her was arrested by police.

Lika'a's name was at the top of the "murder list" in his possession.

She later left Iraq and got an opportunity to study at Shinshu University in Nagano Prefecture, where she is now engaged in leukemia research. "Someday, I want to work for the children of Iraq. But the way it is now, as much as I want to, I cannot go home."

Approximately 1.8 million Iraqis have become refugees since the war started. In addition, an estimated 1.55 million people are internally displaced.

Keiko Sakai, 51, a professor of modern politics in the Middle East at Tokyo University of Foreign Studies and a specialist in Iraqi politics, has nothing but sympathy for the Iraqi people.

"The lifestyle enjoyed by average Iraqis, one that is not so different to that of Japanese, has been entirely stolen from them by an irrational war," Sakai said.

An acquaintance of Sakai's fled to neighboring Jordan. When she visited the country, her friend told her: "No matter how chaotic it was, the joy of living in one's own country is irreplaceable."

Others confess that they are consumed with anxiety about their homes, which are filled with fond memories of their lives they left behind in Iraq.

As an expert on the Middle East, Sakai has worked hard to understand what ordinary Iraqis are going through. She spent three years in Baghdad from 1986 working as a researcher at the Japanese Embassy.

Once while reading a local newspaper, Sakai was approached by Ukeru Magosaki, then a minister at the Japanese Embassy who went on to head the Foreign Ministry's Intelligence and Analysis Bureau at the time.

"You can read any time," said Magosaki, 67. "What's important is to go out in the field and talk to people. Try heading out to the the markets. You'll be able to get a tangible sense of how the average Iraqi thinks."

This advice was based on Magosaki's experiences as a student at Moscow University during the Cold War-era. Freedom of movement was restricted, so he instead made an effort to learn about the actual conditions in Russian society through in-depth discussions with his fellow students.

Having gained a new way of looking at things, Sakai visited the markets several times, and came to the decision to give up eating foods that Iraqis could not obtain.

Looking beyond the abstract, impersonal term "refugee," we can envisage the smiles of friendly Iraqis, no different to those of Japanese. In doing so, we can gain a slightly more intimate awareness of their pain.

This becomes a starting point for contemplating issues regarding Iraq.

Editor's note: This is part of a series titled "From the abyss of the Iraq War" that originally ran in the vernacular Asahi Shimbun.