01/04/2008
By Anis Hamadeh
Al-Arab Online, London
During five days in Iraq - last summer, in glowing heat - Jürgen Todenhöfer moved out to understand a country which most of us only know from the point of view of the occupying force, if at all. To understand it means talking with the people there, listening to their stories and sharing their routine. The routine in Ramadi at the Euphrates, a hundred and ten kilometres west of Baghdad, is marked by warfare and the traumatic memories of the past years.
There is hardly anyone who hasn't lost a family member and hardly any visitor from abroad - except the soldiers of the occupation. Todenhöfer dared to be a visitor here, went there with an Arab guide from Syria over the "road of death" to interview resistance fighters. The result is the book "Why do you kill, Zaid?" (in German, but most of it is translated into English at
www.whydoyoukillzaid.com/en/the-book.html and
www.whydoyoukillzaid.com/en/10-theses.html) which appeared in the Bertelsmann publishing house in March 2008, climbing to number 9 of the Spiegel bestseller list in the same month.
It is a thrilling book, an alarming, an important, and an honest book. The pages turn by themselves for the reader who accompanies the traveller, sharing his thoughts and feelings as well as the shaking testimonies from the population. There is Zaid, a resistance fighter of 21 years, someone who enjoys playing soccer and who originally wanted to study history and become a teacher. Fighting and war were never his aims and he did not believe that a US attack on his country could happen. This all changed when the soldiers came. Helplessly, Zaid had to witness how his little brother bled to death in front of his eyes, shot for no reason. Other family members died in a similar way. In April 2007 Zaid joined the military resistance, killing US soldiers with remote-controlled bombs. One of these bombs did not explode. An old man came to sit at the side of the street where Zaid was expecting a military patrol. Seeing this civilian, he called the bombing off. "I don't want a story that was chosen for me. I want Zaid's story", insists the journalist who had pretended to be a physician so that the authorities in Syria and in Iraq let him into the country. He gets this story, and those of others.
What is it that the German hears, far away from embedded journalism? For example, that the resistance is a lot more comprehensive and sophisticated than we used to think, and that it quite clearly differs from al-Qaida, a group largely unpopular in Iraq. Resistance, even in its armed variant, is not terrorism and could even become a duty when the country is being occupied and the population killed, says Zaid. The German also learns that there are also Iraqi al-Qaida members staining the overall picture, undeniably; and yet most of the terror assaults are committed by foreigners, not by Iraqis. This is not propaganda, but common knowledge among politicians and media.
Nor seems the classification of the citizens into Sunnis, Shi'is, Christians and Kurds to match the identity of most of the Iraqis. It is true that the borders of Iraq were created rather artificially by then Secretary of State for the Colonies Churchill and his advisor Gertrude Bell and then legitimized by the League of Nations. But it is also true that a national identity had become established in the minds of the population. It speaks with the voices of Zaid, Omar, Mohammed, Ahmad, Yussuf, Rami, Abu Saeed and Aisha who all deliver their stories and their opinions.
In amazement the author registers how well-acquainted his interview partners are with the Western discourse. They know what people think about them in the USA and in Europe and their reactions range from amusement to anger. Often Todenhöfer hears that the Iraqis will come to terms with terrorism, if only the Americans went away. The situation is said to resemble the one of the doctor with a contagious disease who insists on remaining in the country, because he wants to cure this very disease in the people there.
It is its style, most of all, that makes the book credible and authentic. The readers do not just learn about alternative opinions of people concerned, they accompany the human being Jürgen Todenhöfer with all his questions, motivations, hopes and doubts. The 67-year-old is an executive at a major European media group. Before that he was a member of the German parliament for 18 years and spokesman for the CDU/CSU on development and arms control. He has written two bestsellers about the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. In "Why do you kill, Zaid?" he proves to be a passionate football fan and a friend of song, too. His Christian belief he takes seriously. He is a man who gets to the bottom of things and who can face criticism. On the feedback page of the website to accompany the book he even published harsh criticism to the point of polemics: living evidence for the necessity of Todenhöfer's project.
"Why do you kill, Zaid" has several parts. In the 33 pages of the introduction the author recapitulates the decades of his work and his many stays abroad. The 120 pages of the main part follow (available in English online via the above link) and in 40 more pages he draws a larger historical-political frame, tackling the colonial time that apparently has not ceased to be relevant. He summarizes his critique in ten theses. The well-reasoned bottom line is that Western powers have been much more violent than the Muslim world. This, in turn, would be a major reason for an increase of Muslim extremists. Dr. jur. Todenhöfer vehemently advocates the observance of a consistent standard in the evaluation of violence. His theses are published on the internet in several languages.
In a supplement of nine pages Todenhöfer describes what happened to the people he wrote about in the books "Who will bother to weep for Abdul and Tanaya?" and "Andy and Marwa". The closing sentence here includes the real and logical title of the work at hand: "No leader of the Western world has ever dared to ask the American President during his term in office: 'Why do you kill, George W.?'"
Very important also is the collection of Biblical and Quran quotations (70 pages all in all) on the subjects of violence, women and slaves, followed by those quotes that represent the true values of the religions they represent. Those quotes belong to the fundaments of international discourse and one can witness the similarity of the respective contents - both in the controversial and in the beautiful verses. There are in addition 218 notes, some with extensive source quotes and evidence, plus a two page bibliography and a register of the 68 photos (some of them in colour) and finally a register of proper names and keywords, reaching to page 335.
So, what will be the consequences that we draw from reading this book? What we should, can, could, may or must draw? Jürgen Todenhöfer donates all of the royalties to fund medical aid for Iraqi refugee children (www.iom-iraq.net) and an Israeli-Palestinian reconciliation project in the Middle East, "MEET" (http://meet.csail.mit.edu). Moreover, he shows with his own example that constructive action is demanded, with creativity, self-reflection, openness, inquisitiveness and even a sense of humour, in spite of everything.
Some of us will contribute more ideas and questions. Some will mention that there are US and British soldiers stationed in Germany and will ask how they are to be greeted. Maybe they will dig out some old NATO documents or the list of the human rights and register key details. Or they will stop buying newspapers and throw their TV sets out of the window. Yes, some of us could even start to think, to pose questions and to find answers - and thus do exactly what parents and teachers had always cautioned us against: stepping out of line.
(Anis Hamadeh lived in Baghdad from 1982-83 and learnt his first Arabic there at Mustansiriya University, aged 16. He used to know some of the best chess players in the country, like Ra'd Kareem Hamad and Jum'a 'Abd Kaati'. He lost against them in blitz chess at the Tigris while eating "guss" sandwiches, or sat in the Umm Kulthum cafè.)
