+FROM MY BOOK
AMERICA: WALLETS, BULLETS AND ROSES (170 ESSAYS)
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THE BARBED- WIRE ROSE
BY: N ABDOU
THANKS AMERICA FOR THE HOT DOGS
2/ 18, 2004
Today Paul Bremer, the American administrator of the post-war Iraq, has delivered a long speech outlining the many accomplishments his country and its coalition have achieved to prepare the embattled Iraq embracing the responsibility of self-governing on the 28th of June,2004. From the many cited accomplishments, I recall the following few:
1. Water and electricity are now flowing everywhere in the –once- was dry and dark country of Saddam.
2. Millions of children are going back to schools with books that don’t mention the tyrant’s name.
Indeed, students and teachers are finding their faces reflected on the mirror of the new freedom crafted by the- all-skillful American diplomacy. And I must add: let’s not forget the millions of hot dogs Mother America will be serving free to those already starved children. What a beautiful song to sing to their sensitive ears. After all, children are the world. Yes, Paul, sing it along with Mike. Ah, if the Iraqi children could just forget their dead parents, siblings, relatives and friends.
3. The majority of Iraqis will have good paying jobs, thanks to the billions their oil will pump to their new economy, sang the provisional governor.
And let’s touch another class of the helpless who will greedily benefit from the American intervention. For centuries, Arabs have undermined women’s rights. It is about time to forge for those poor creatures a face endowed with all the human rights. Yes, no more veils,and from now on they can wear high heel shoes and tight blue jeans. They can twist their hips to force the old monsters, men, to salivate. They will hold high and low offices. They even can have breast implants to speed up the climbing of the ladder of social success- in imitation of their Western sisters. And thanks to America, they will have the right to divorce their husbands, claim equality in dividing the conjugal properties and put legal fight to take custody of the children and even the family dog. They can drive cars, ride bicycles and roll on bladed skates, thus inviting the fresh breeze of the Euphrates River to caress their wavy hairs. And soon their sisters in Egypt will twist their hips as they walk hand in hand with their lovers to enjoy the moon reflecting its golden light on the Nile. And the cool breeze of the Tunisian green mountains will caress the silky dark hairs of the women of this earthly paradise. To continue the dizzying dance of freedom, they will be able choose their future partners through the internet. Why not? If you offer the cup full, you must expect it back empty. In other words, it is all yours; drink it to the last drop.
Now let’s visit the losers’ ward. Yes, I am speaking about and to you, Arab men. From now on you must go to schools of communication; you need to learn how to listen to voices other than yours. For so long you have been roaming the jungle care-free and inattentive to those snakes that crawled under your feet. You might even have to stay home caring for the children and pets while your wives are vacationing solo. They need time to reflect on their marital status, meaning: should they continue to bear their families’ burdens or run with those bachelor gentle mailmen, who smilingly greet them in the morning while stuffing their mailboxes with piles of ads that inform them about the latest fashion in clothing and make- ups .
Also, Arab men, are you prepared to accept the Nays that will be thrown unto you from your children, instead of the Yeas you have been, for so long, accustomed to hear?
Yes, brethren you must be prepared to listen and bow, sweeping is the voice of the American democracy.
Many of you might ask: but what happened to the voice of our Holy Scriptures, whose fire our ancestors had kept burning for centuries?
And I reply: Time for America is now or never, and space is here or nowhere. Yes, democracy has entered your tent anchored in the sand of tyranny; don’t deny freedom to your wives and children; or else you and your values will be speedily buried alive. You must struggle to hold unto life, in spite of its roller coaster- twists. May your, your struggle be not led by weapons, rather by intelligence, the most powerful weapon of all! Your old security found in emotional flaws is over; it is about time to start building fortresses of reason.
Now that I have communicated with the weak, time is right to say a few words to the powerful: America, your exported democracy is but the dance of a butterfly drunk from the dripping nectar of a poisoning flower. Only when the solid tree of life drips blood, then freedom will fill up the cup of the oppressed. Don’t kill the butterfly in whose wings a true freedom grows slowly and mysteriously. Democracy is not a blanket that covers man’s inequities, rather a seed that must grow in the gardens of his heart and mind. You must remember, beloved, man of the jungle lives by the law of force; force of the law transforms man of the jungle. In sum: History repeatedly instructs us that freedom is a flower that grows steadily on the hard rock of the human sufferings.