U.S involvement in Syria. Not as it seems?
Several people over the years have asked if I'll write a book about my experiences in Syria during the war.
Perhaps, when the war against it is over, but not yet. Because it's far from over.
This facebook diary is the book I suppose. It's been a journey of many years and hard lessons.
I started with wide open bright eyes - sure that if Americans could just see Syria as I have come to see it, and how dreadful the aggression against it has been, they would rise up and resist this nightmare of death and destruction.
Many have and I'm so grateful to all the thousands who've been educating themselves, supporting my work and that of others like me, and sharing and debating - becoming passionate warriors of knowledge and truth in their own right about this conflict.
But most folks just really don't want to know.
As the years and miles have gone on, my eyes have gotten squintier with sadness, weariness, and the bitterness of betrayal - learning too much of what the US government policies and actions are really about...
And learning how few people here care including most of our extended family and close personal friends. Thank God for my husband Syd, our two sons and a few family friends, all the wonderful friends met on Facebook - and especially beloved Syrian friends - who've supported and encouraged me as they have or I'd be in some looney bin somewhere.
The time in Deir Ezzor province in 2017 was the graduation ceremony of sorts for this American housewife turned citizen journalist. It was called the most dangerous place in the world at that time - the scene where the desert fight between ISIS and the Syrian Arab Army and its allies was raging - and still is. Joe Biden just murdered over 20 men who'd been fighting ISIS out there.
My eyes got permanently squinty there - not from the bright sun but from facing the glaring reality of the depth of war crimes, lies, deceits, and evil perpetrated by 'my' government.
For all those crimes and atrocities, I hold the media most responsible actually. War mongers are gonna war. Profiteers are gonna profit. Liars are gonna lie.
But after the proven lies about Iraq; the often ridiculous lies about Libya; the sheer murderous insanity going on against Yemen ... the continual, juvenile, obvious lies about Syria should have had any journalist rolling in the aisles in unrestrained laughter from the absurdity.
Instead the faithful media keeps vomiting the lies to their audiences with feigned stern and concerned faces and paragraphs. Never letting up. Ten years later, they're still acting their role of pandering propagandists and suck ups.
And most of the people just keep lapping up the media's vomit. "Those are the PROFESSIONAL journalists don't you know."
I have no doubt that in years to come some of the lies will be 'exposed' by media outlets as though they've done their jobs. When all the damage has been done. When they've missed THE story of our times. It is THE story because it's revealed all the dirty tricks. Perhaps then some folks will remember what I and the rest of the truth tellers have been saying - and most importantly what the great majority of Syrians themselves have been saying - for over ten long desperate years.
I've been accused of everything. Being a spy. An apologist. A troll. A liar. An idiot. An orientalist. And many words I won't write here.
But all I've tried to be is a 'connect-ivist'. Connecting with the people in Syria, their lives, their pain, their joys, their reality - while hopefully giving others a chance to connect too.
Why am I sharing all this here tonight? Because I want anyone reading who may be on the fence, may be intrigued, may be willing to re-evaluate their currently held opinions - to consider following my Facebook page and learn more. Every day pretty much I share things I think are important. I'm literally begging people to follow along, ask questions, and think.
Photo is on the bank of the Euphrates River in al Mayadeen, Syria in October of 2017 with ISIS on the other side. After being there, I'm not willing to take any shit from anybody and I'll never give up. Goodnight.
Running Orders
ReplyDeleteBY LENA KHALAF TUFFAHA
They call us now,
before they drop the bombs.
The phone rings
and someone who knows my first name
calls and says in perfect Arabic
“This is David.”
And in my stupor of sonic booms and glass-shattering symphonies
still smashing around in my head
I think, Do I know any Davids in Gaza?
They call us now to say
Run.
You have 58 seconds from the end of this message.
Your house is next.
They think of it as some kind of
war-time courtesy.
It doesn’t matter that
there is nowhere to run to.
It means nothing that the borders are closed
and your papers are worthless
and mark you only for a life sentence
in this prison by the sea
and the alleyways are narrow
and there are more human lives
packed one against the other
more than any other place on earth
Just run.
We aren’t trying to kill you.
It doesn’t matter that
you can’t call us back to tell us
the people we claim to want aren’t in your house
that there’s no one here
except you and your children
who were cheering for Argentina
sharing the last loaf of bread for this week
counting candles left in case the power goes out.
It doesn’t matter that you have children.
You live in the wrong place
and now is your chance to run
to nowhere.
It doesn’t matter
that 58 seconds isn’t long enough
to find your wedding album
or your son’s favorite blanket
or your daughter’s almost completed college application
or your shoes
or to gather everyone in the house.
It doesn’t matter what you had planned.
It doesn’t matter who you are.
Prove you’re human.
Prove you stand on two legs.
Run.