On May 11,
one day after US marines conducted their last patrol
into Fallujah following their decision to pull back and
hand over to a Fallujah Brigade after a bloody
month-long siege, hundreds of dignitaries gathered under
a long tent in the city 50 kilometers west of Baghdad
for a poetry celebration organized by the National Front
of Iraqi Intellectuals. It was
staged in front of the unfinished Rahma Hospital, and a
podium was placed on top of the rough gray stairs at the
hospital's entrance, with the front's emblem and Iraqi
flags draped on the podium. Tall columns and arches
framed the background. Graffiti on the walls of the
hospital read, "Long live the mujahideen and the loved
ones of Mohammed", "Victory is Fallujah's and defeat for
the infidel America" and "the
Fallujah martyrs are the lights for the way to the
complete liberation of Iraq".
Clerics
resplendent in their turbans, tribal leaders wearing
white kafiyas, or headscarves,
businessmen, military and police officers and men in
Ba'athist-style matching solid-color open-collar shirts
and pants called "safari suits" sat on plastic chairs
under a long tent shading them from the noonday sun.
Banners hung on the sides of the tent and walls of the
hospital made clear the sentiments of the moment: "All
of Fallujah's neighborhoods bear witness to its heroism,
steadfastness and virtue", "The stand of Fallujah is the
truest expression of the Iraqi identity", "Fallujah,
castle of
steadfastness and pride" and "The martyrs of Fallujah,
Najaf, Kufa and Basra are the pole of the flag that says
God is great".
Above the podium, tough-looking
men wearing sunglasses and grimaces looked down on the
crowd. A banner above them described the event as a
poetry festival to support Fallujah against the
occupation. Cans of soft drinks and bottles of water
were provided for the honored guests.
"Hey
Fallujah," called one poet, "when I wrote my poem you
were the most beautiful verse inside it and without your
stand I could not raise my head again." Another poet,
with the strong accent of Shi'ite southern Iraq,
declared: "Fallujah is full of real men." Bridging the
Sunni-Shi'ite divide, he referred to the important
Shi'ite martyr Hussein, who is venerated for defying
Sunni tyranny: "From the 'no' of Hussein Fallujah
learned so much." He continued that just as "Hussein was
supported by 70 of his followers, we have to be like his
followers and end the internal strife ... I have a brave
friend from Fallujah and I came from Karbala." He led
the audience in chants and hand-clapping, calling for
unity between Sunnis and Shi'ites.
Another
Shi'ite poet from Baghdad, Falah al-Fatlawi, declared
that radical Shi'ite cleric Muqtada al-Sadr's Army of
the Mahdi militia "awoke for Fallujah, and Sadr's voice
from Najaf" declared the value of Fallujah. "We will
never sell it," he said, "people sacrificed their spirit
for Fallujah, one heart, one line, Sunni and Shi'ite for
Fallujah!" Mohammed Khalil Kawkaz recited a poem called
"The Fallujah Tragedy" in a barely intelligible local
accent. "Fallujah is a tall date palm," he said. "She
never accepts anybody touching her dates, she will shoot
arrows into the eyes of those who try to taste her, this is Fallujah, your
bride, oh Euphrates! She will never fall in love with
anyone but you ... Americans dug in the ground and
pulled out the roots of the date palm."
Choosing
an interesting metaphor, given the recent decapitation
of American Nick Berg, he announced: "We will slit the
throats of our enemies!" and added that "the earth hugs
the destroyed houses ... the women burned and the
children suffered, calling to the governing council, you
are deaf and dumb O governing council! You found honor
in meeting him who pillaged Fallujah [the Americans]."
He cried to the Euphrates River, asking it why
it did nothing to help the city: "Oh Euphrates, what
happened to you that you just lay down? Get up and fight
with your waves and swallow this country [US] and the
others [the coalition], stand with Fallujah! You are the
Iraqi flag, they tried to change you but they cannot,
for you are her love! Oh Fallujah, you are my blood, my
eyes, my everything! All the mosques say God is great
and call for jihad, as the Americans bomb their towers!
No honor, no justice, no right, nothing, but we have the
scarved ones [mujahideen] who will restore all, he
brought them, prisoners, hostages, like a wolf and he
negotiated and sold them in the market! He who did not
bleed for you [Fallujah] is dishonorable!"
Another poet shouted, "Congratulations on the
victory of the revolutionaries, your heads will always
be high and the one who wanted to conquer you hangs his
head low!" A poet from the southern Shi'ite shrine city
of Najaf sang, "I brought with me all the love from
Najaf to this city and I send it as kisses to the people
of the Anbar."
A 12-year-old boy from Najaf
followed him, and the microphone was lowered to accommodate his
small stature. He wore a pressed white shirt neatly
tucked into his jeans, and he waved an arm angrily,
pointing a finger at the sky. "I came from Najaf to
praise the heroes of Fallujah!" he shouted, and ended by
calling to God, screaming, "Ya Allah! Ya Allah," and
then burst out sobbing. Older men escorted him off as he
wiped away his tears, and he was embraced and kissed in
succession by the dignitaries in the front row. He
returned to recite another bellicose poem, this time
brandishing a Kalashnikov as long as he was tall.
Listening to the hyperbolic poems amid a
devastated city I was reminded of Ma'rouf al-Resafi
(1875-1945), nicknamed "the poet of Iraq". A teacher,
writer, translator, journalist, historian and
politician, Resafi traveled for much of his life and
settled in Fallujah, from which he fled in 1941 to
Baghdad when British troops and mercenaries attacked it.
He wrote famous poems in tribute to Fallujah, including
one that went:
Oh Englishmen, we will not forget Your
cruelty in the houses of Fallujah Sanctioned by
your army, wanting revenge Its parasites dazzled by
Fallujah's inhabitants And on the defenseless you
poured a glass Of blood mixed with betrayal Is
in this the civility, and loftiness Your people
claim to ascend to?
Seated majestically in
the center of the crowd, prominently next to the chief
of police, Colonel Sabar Fadhil al-Janabi, Sheikh Dhafer
al-Ubeidi, the guest of honor, rose to speak, a white
scarf framing his dark-bearded face and a gold-braided
translucent cape draped over his shoulders. "There was
never unity in Iraqi history like this," he said,
describing the event as "the wedding day for Fallujah".
Muslims had not felt such joy, he said, since Saladin
liberated Jerusalem in 1187. Silencing the enthusiastic
crowd, he continued: "I don't like clapping, so if I say
something you like then say 'Allahu Akbar' [God is
great], which is in accordance with our traditions.
Clapping is for poets, not religious leaders."
Dhafer warned that Zionists, imperialists and
Masons were leading the occupation and inciting
sectarian war. "The meaning of Fallujah has become
victory," he told them. Fallujah was now haram
for the Americans, he said, religiously prohibited,
until judgment day. "And Iraq will be haram for
America until judgment day." Dhafer wished peace upon
the crowd and descended to shouts of "God is great!"
As the tribal leaders seated behind Dhafer
parted and lumbered out of the tent, holding their gowns
up slightly with one hand, I stopped one of the guests,
Sheikh Abdul Rahman al-Zowabi, to ask him about the
event. "It is a victory celebration," he told me. "It is
a message that all Iraqis are one people, as you saw,
and there are many well-known people here from all
Iraq." I asked the chubby sheikh if the battle would
continue, and he laughed, answering, "Fallujah is part
of the victory, but there are more battlefields. There
will be a popular rebellion in all of Iraq."
I
asked him what political plan they had for the rest of
the country, and his answer was typical of what I have
been hearing in Iraq for the past 13 months. "We want a
national government that represents the Iraqi people,"
he said. When I pressed him on what type of government,
he said, "We want any government that satisfies the
Iraqi people." And did the tribal leader want a
democracy? "We don't hate democracy, we believe in
democracy, but it should come from the Iraqi people. We
have our own special democracy that takes Iraqi history
and culture into consideration." He explained proudly
that "the first code of laws on Earth was Hammurabi's
code in Iraq, before America even existed", referring to
"priest king" Hammurabi (circa 1792-1750 BC), who united
all of Mesopotamia under his 43-year reign of Babylon.
Zowabi's companion, a tall, gaunt sheikh with a
thin mustache, told me, "We don't want freedom or
democracy if it comes from America." Another sheikh cut
him off, shouting, "How can you tell a foreigner that
you don't want freedom or democracy? He will tell the
whole world." The interrupted sheikh did not respond,
telling me only that "America should leave today, before
tomorrow".
NEXT: The Fallujah
model
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PART
2: The fighting poets
castle of
steadfastness and pride" and "The martyrs of Fallujah,
Najaf, Kufa and Basra are the pole of the flag that says
God is great". 
this is Fallujah, your
bride, oh Euphrates! She will never fall in love with
anyone but you ... Americans dug in the ground and
pulled out the roots of the date palm." 
lowered to accommodate his
small stature. He wore a pressed white shirt neatly
tucked into his jeans, and he waved an arm angrily,
pointing a finger at the sky. "I came from Najaf to
praise the heroes of Fallujah!" he shouted, and ended by
calling to God, screaming, "Ya Allah! Ya Allah," and
then burst out sobbing. Older men escorted him off as he
wiped away his tears, and he was embraced and kissed in
succession by the dignitaries in the front row. He
returned to recite another bellicose poem, this time
brandishing a Kalashnikov as long as he was tall.
