The
Arabs’ Feelings Of Love
And Hate For Saddam Hussein
By Ramzy Baroud
23 January, 2007
Countercurrents.org
Amid
the anticipation and strange secrecy regarding the day of Sadaam Hussein’s
execution, images of his lifeless body after his hanging flooded internet,
the world media seemingly and conveniently forgot the tenants of international
law regarding such images. Even such photos plagued my screen on Al-Jazeera
that morning.
Later, scenes of Iraqi Shia
groups firing guns and dancing in the street presented a sensational
image similar to the staged collapse of Saddam’s statue in Baghdad
years before.
Something seemed terribly
wrong in this so-called act of justice.
I am certainly not a fan
of tyranny. I’ve spoken out against human-rights violations since
my early years. In Cairo, I stood in alliance with students protesting
government crackdowns; in Seattle, I marched for equal opportunities
for African-American students demanding the preservation of affirmative
action. I lived most of my life in a Palestinian refugee camp, under
Israeli military occupation in Gaza.
But seeing Saddam in that
humiliating state, lying lifeless on a stainless steel table after what
so many called a ‘disgraceful and undignified execution’,
provoked an array of emotions that I could hardly contain. Even then,
I had no illusions: It was not the capture, trial nor execution of Saddam
that engulfed me with these emotions; it was what the man represented
or, perhaps, failed to represent. It was the fear of a future undoubtedly
bleak, unforgiving.
Saddam, in his eccentric
ways, symbolized the last drive for pan-Arab nationalism. In many ways,
he was unrivalled. He was one of very few who dared to stand up to what
many people in the world see as a harsh and domineering United States.
To many people living in the Middle East, Saddam Hussein was simply
the "lesser of the two evils."
Arab nationalism, even under
the shabby state of the former Iraqi leader, remained important, for
it represented the only collective political identity Arabs aspired
to attain. Politically fragmented and easy prey to outside interests,
many Arabs, especially in poorer countries, held tight to the fading
dream of unity.
But as the dream of unity
was dying, irate alternatives were forcefully offered; the "Islamic
option" had suddenly augmented from its minimal, symbolic presence
to the only intellectual substitute to pan-Arabism. Both ideologies
championed the recourse of revival, liberation even, from within, and
a full-fledged unity as the only shield in the face of the self-seeking
invaders from without.
As youths growing up under
a brutal Israeli occupation, my peers and I inanely believed that a
collective Arab determination was the only solution to oppression and
humiliation. Often, I went to sleep, during an Israeli military curfew
in my refugee camp in Gaza, finding comfort in the thought that an Arab
army could cross at any minute to set us all free from this prison.
It never came.
As I grew, I realised that
things are not as simple and pure as once thought. Arab rulers were
no Saladin, but in fact, they were just as guilty for their people’s
plight as those foreign powers that see Arabs as faceless numbers, associated
only with every negative stereotype one can envisage. Although I must
admit that I was strongly moved by the last words Saddam proclaimed,
calling on Iraqis to forgive, to strive to be driven by the love for
freedom, rather than disdain for ones enemies. Of course these words
also were disregarded by western mainstream media.
I also learned that in the
West, we Arabs are for the most part, all grouped together, in a camp
of "hostiles" who must be "contained," regardless
of the price of such containment. I learned that many in the West have
forgotten that Iraq, the "cradle of civilization," contributed
much to the world, including algebra, chemistry, astronomy, physics
and a revival of the Greek language critical to the Renaissance in Europe.
I learned that they had forgotten this, and believed that Iraq, and
the Arab world in general, was only capable of producing tyrants and
terrorists.
In Gaza, my sorrow of losing
countless friends and family members to the Israeli occupation forces
was the shared destiny of well over one million refugees in Gaza’s
camps. With each new innocent casualty, the desire for a collective
Arab will became stronger. But time has passed, and the dream of a collective
Arab will has yielded to collective Arab chaos.
Despite the uncertainty awaiting
Arab nations, most Arabs were never so clear as to the source of their
misfortune. They loathed the imperialism that finally culminated in
an up-front invasion of the prized "jewel of Arab civilisation,"
Iraq. They protested "client regimes" and subsequently marched
behind (irrationally, may I add) whomever disassociated himself from
such a rule.
Maybe this explains the reason
behind the love-hate relationship many Arabs had towards Saddam: He
was a brutal dictator, and yet he defied the United States and its imperialist
designs in the Arab world. It was not hard for me to fathom why many
Iraqis celebrated when Saddam was executed, while others vowed to carry
on with their attacks against US-led occupation forces. That same paradox
struck me watching Saddam’s glum photo on my computer on that
morning of uncertainty.
I paused to gaze at a 9-11
memorial poster hanging on my wall, anxiously considering the devastating
repercussions that could stem from collectively disgracing hundreds
of millions of people. Regardless of what Arabs and Muslims around the
world felt of Saddam’s history and leadership, his capture, his
trial and undignified execution were a collective humiliation for us
all, a humiliation that will not be forgotten for perhaps many years.
And sadly, this international public spectacle has the potential to
reap devastating ramifications. It seems that fear and uncertainty are,
sadly, among the people of the US and the Middle East, a common sorrow.
Ramzy Baroud’s
latest book, The Second Palestinian Intifada: A Chronicle of
a People’s Struggle (Pluto Press), is available at Amazon.com
and also from the University of Michigan Press. His website is ramzybaroud.net
Leave
A Comment
&
Share Your Insights