I am a Muslim man living in London, born in Iraq. In this post I will tell you about how I went from being, in my own eyes, a man who fought for the freedom and independence of my country, to becoming a terrorist. I will also reveal that I was part of a radical organization who helped plan the most known terrorist attack in history.
A couple of years ago, just before 9/11, I joined a radical Muslim organization. We were ready to fight for freedom of our countries, Iraq and lately Afghanistan, from the United States. Our opinion was that USA had been interfering, destroying and killing in Iraq only to suit own purposes for many decades.
I was a young boy during Operation Desert Storm. My family and I had moved to England just two years before the invasion. Even as a small boy and many years to come, I felt very strongly about my home country. English ways did not suit me, and I was always aware and proud of where I felt I belonged. I was ashamed to be a UK- citizen when I a few years later realized that the UK had taken such a big part in the war alongside the USA.
I was young, full of spirit, with a burning rage towards these countries, which I had admired and looked up to for many years. How could these two world nations carry out such horrible and stupid actions that they knew, or at least should understand, would damage the already fragile relationship between the west and the Middle East? Why could they not help us without destroying our country and humiliating and killing our people?
It had not been looked upon as a bad thing at first, the elders in the organization told me, that the US and the UK hindered Saddam from invading Kuwait. Saddam was no longer seen as a strong leader, but as a murderer and betrayer of his country. He had gone too far, and his people suffered under his regime. Maybe the participation from the west would help to bring peace and order to Iraq?
January 17th 1991, USA dropped 90,000 bombs destroying military and civilian infrastructure. The war was on. The infrastructure was ruined, people of Iraq were still suffering, and eventually they began to loose hope. It was a total mess. The ones we first regarded as our saviors had become our greatest fear and enemy.
I was blinded with hate against Britain and the US, and I longed for revenge and a drastic change. We had to strike back! That was when I joined the organization, along with my fellow student and best friend. Here, I call him Anwar.
We experienced brotherhood and friendship between us all, and “Anwar” and I became strongly attached to the group. I was not an unintelligent boy, and I knew that the organization I was joining was called a “terrorist network”. A young boy as I was, my thoughts were consumed with the idea of accomplishing something big that would change everything.
I was convinced we were all fighting for peace and independence for our countries and that our fight and struggle would all end, the moment we gained freedom from the imperialist super powers. I was, as the rest of us, willing to go far, even give my own life to the cause. I saw myself and my comrades as soldiers of war, independent of all armies, and I was convinced that violence and terror was our righteous tools in the battle for freedom.
We were even martyrs to be, were we not?
Our salvation was in high heaven, our bodies were just containers of earthly flesh and bones, muscles and blood. Our souls would conquer, and the British and American dogs would go to hell.
In the beginning I refused to think of my self as a terrorist, but after some time spent in the brotherhood, the honest truth is I no longer cared. We were building each other up and applauding each other for saying the most horrid things about our next-door neighbor. Together we were strong.
An anger I had never felt before, was growing in me. I was angry with British people, American people, fellow students and my family, which had no idea what was going on. My father would be ashamed of me, but at the time I saw of him as traitor and coward for having abandoned his country, fleeing to the enemies, settling amongst imperialist brutes.
The time came to act big. We had of course spread our message around, trying to get as many men with the same opinion as us to join, and we were no longer a small group.
“The time has finally come,” one of the most respected elders told us one day early in October 2000. This was our first and biggest task. But most important, this was our given task. September 11th two planes crashed into the Twin Towers. One plain crashed into the US military headquarters, Pentagon, and one was supposed to hit Washington, but crashed instead in a field southeast of Pittsburgh. My organization had helped to plan these attacks.
Years passed, lives were lost, and my homeland was in a mess. A cousin of my father sent to Guantanamo, my home town bombed and we had every reason to continue, but I changed.
In the beginning I refused to think of my self as a terrorist, but after some time spent in the brotherhood, the honest truth is I no longer cared. We were building each other up and applauding each other for saying the most horrid things about our next-door neighbor. Together we were strong.
An anger I had never felt before, was growing in me. I was angry with British people, American people, fellow students and my family, which had no idea what was going on. My father would be ashamed of me, but at the time I saw of him as traitor and coward for having abandoned his country, fleeing to the enemies, settling amongst imperialist brutes.
The time came to act big. We had of course spread our message around, trying to get as many men with the same opinion as us to join, and we were no longer a small group.
“The time has finally come,” one of the most respected elders told us one day early in October 2000. This was our first and biggest task. But most important, this was our given task. September 11th two planes crashed into the Twin Towers. One plain crashed into the US military headquarters, Pentagon, and one was supposed to hit Washington, but crashed instead in a field southeast of Pittsburgh. My organization had helped to plan these attacks.
Years passed, lives were lost, and my homeland was in a mess. A cousin of my father sent to Guantanamo, my home town bombed and we had every reason to continue, but I changed.
Bombings on the underground. A bus blown to pieces by a suicide bomber. Our brothers. Young men like us. Like me. Wandering into a bus full of both children and elders, one early, beautiful morning in July, loaded with explosives underneath his frock, this man must have had second thoughts. I was suddenly sure of this, or, I wanted to be.
One day, I longed for peace. I was tired. So much violence, only in return for more violence. I was no longer sure this was the illuminated path, the only way to walk.
After 9/11, no Muslim man or woman walk in peace in the streets of any western town, small or big. We have become the people they dread, the people they do not want to understand, to work with, talk to or live with. Our action that day changed not only the western world, it changed our future, and I am not sure it was for the better. So many lives lost, so much money spent, that rage, so much sorrow. Could we have chosen another way? Did we have to meet the invasion with violence against civilians, against innocent people, the way we used to be innocent?
I want my people to be free, I want my children to grow up in a peaceful world, but I am no longer sure that I will make this happen by the use of force and violence.
Forgive me, but this is what I think is important to share with you all.
Go in peace,
إنشاءالله
Allah is great.
Sources:
London bombings:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/magazine/4354858.stm
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/magazine/4354858.stm
9/11:
This is appeares to me as a beautiful blog post. So much emotion, sorrow and regret. You describe your experiences so vivid, I am truly speechless. I am also incredibly sorry for all the pain caused by all this violence. Still I can’t help but wonder if you now so many years later have another solution as to how it is beneficial to fight for your country? Have you reflected upon have you could have made a difference without resorting to violence?
ReplyDeleteNever thought I was going to say this, but right, this was a touching story. It is weird how I almost forget that those terrorists are also human and have to make a choice that in some way seems to match their lives. But what really frightens me is how you did not look at yourself as a terrorist, it just seems so cold to me. Are we not a part of the same world? I mean, to me terror is pretty clear, either you try to defend something important or not.
ReplyDeleteI can see that now you look at the actions differently, and it is great to see that you are willing to share your feelings about it – I can not imagine I would be able to do the same thing. Great text.
We all long for what is best to ourselves, and I do not think violence is any good to anybody and it is hard to trust that people actually believe that. It is really shocking.
I admire your courage, by writing this text. It really seems too me that you regret your actions and have learned from them. Violence solves nothing but more violence. This circle is hard too break free from, but it seems like you have. When this is said, I was wondering about the same thing as Lotte. Could you have made a difference without resorting to violence?
ReplyDeleteThis is a very touching blogpost! As the one over me said: "so much,emotion, sorrow and regret", this are all words that fits perfectly to your blogpost.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad to see that you have changed your opinions for what the solution could be.
Still, the one over me are stealing my words:
Do you have an idea how we could try find a solution to this problem?
You think that we can't use force and violence, but what can be done?
This is not an easy question, and i know that.