Writings by Cathy Breen

Refugee Narratives: A reflection by Cathy Breen

Joel Gulledge — Mon, 10 Nov 2008 09:42:59 -0600

Short Information Teaser

I arrived four days ago from the Middle East and find myself caught as it were between two worlds.

Excerpt

Affectionate greetings to you all. I arrived four days ago from the Middle East and find myself caught as it were between two worlds. I feel like I left one family there in order to return to family here. Despite the starkly different realities, both places seem equally familiar. In ways hard to describe, life there seems easier.

Body

Dear Friends,

Time did not permit me to write a final letter from Jordan, so I want to do this now. Words can’t express my gratitude to you for your prayers and support. It is you who made the trip possible, and I can assure you that your money gifts and messages brought much healing and some relief to many Iraqis. I regret that I was unable to write each of you individually, but I trust you understand.

Jet lag has me rising at 3:00 or 3:30am these last days and, despite my somewhat weary state, it is good to be with my community and friends again. Little by little I am catching up on the events of the last four months. Little Esther, one month and scrawny when I left, is now the most charmingly beautiful hamster-cheeked baby, smiling from ear to ear! As I feared, seventeen month old Tobias forgot me, but we will soon remedy that. Jonah, almost nine now, embraced me with a big hug!

Excited shouts from the 4th floor of our house two nights ago caused me to go up to see what was going on. As I suspected, the family from the Congo was beside themselves with joy at the news of Obama’s victory. Jaded as I am from the last two years of campaign frenzy and mistrust of our political system, I can’t help but be caught up somewhat in the enthusiasm around me. I want to believe that things will get better.

My last two weeks in Jordan found me paying visits to a much neglected sector of the Iraqi refugee population, that of single men between the ages of 20 to 35. As I write you, I have their faces before me. It helped greatly that I was taken to their homes by someone they know and trust. For the most part, their initial cautiousness faded as we visited, and one by one they told me something of their situations. I was amazed by their open expressions and the lack of anger and rancor in their voices. Sometimes as many as six men are sharing an apartment with only a mattress or blanket on a bare floor. They have all fled violence and many have lost loved ones and/or have suffered physical harm themselves.

Separated from their families, they are unable to return to Iraq and fear pickup and deportation should they be caught working. As “younger” single Iraqi men, they are lowest on the “totem pole” of candidates for resettlement. Not permitted to work, they nevertheless have to find ways to pay rent and support themselves. Many eat only one meal a day and, without even a hotplate, they can’t make a hot cup of coffee or tea to help ward off the cold. They live in a constant state of anxiety and fear. Unable to pursue work, studies or their careers and trades, their desperation grows. Women in the same circumstances to often feel driven to prostitution in order to survive. What, we must ask ourselves, will these men be forced to turn to? Here are a couple of stories. The names have of course been changed to protect them.

Mohammed, 20 years old. He came to Jordan in 2004 when he was just 15 years old. The militia was trying to force him to join them, kidnapped him for two days and under torture he accepted their demand and was released with the promise to come back to them. His family sold furniture to help him go to Jordan. He is living with four other men in miserable conditions.

Abu Mustafa, 32 years old. He came alone to Jordan in 2006. He worked as a police officer. Threatened by militia (two of his police friends were killed in front of him), he had to flee. He left a wife and small son. His wife gave birth to a baby girl 20 days after he left Iraq. She is now 2 1/2 years old and he has never seen her. Recently his 5 year old son said to him over the telephone “Baba (father), come and eat with us, we are going to have lunch.” He has relatives in the states and in Germany. He lives with four other men in very poor conditions.

Mazen, 28years old. From a family of eight brothers and sisters, he came alone to Jordan in 2003. His whole family is in southern Iraq. He was forced to flee when armed men with black masks attacked them. His father was so badly beaten that he can no longer walk. The area where they lived had problems between Shi’a and Sunni. He is unable to return or he will be killed. He has no relatives outside of Iraq.

These are only three brief accounts of about twenty men I met one evening. The same evening we learned that the housemate of one of the men was seriously ill with fever and vomiting. After speaking with all of the men, we went to the apartment and found the man lying on the floor on a blanket. With the help of his friends we were able to get him to a hospital. I saw him three days later in the hospital. He was receiving IV antibiotics, but still had a fever and intense headache and cough. A nurse told us he had pneumonia. After another couple of days his condition had improved, thank God. But how can he return to an unheated apartment, to a bed of blankets on the floor? He was the only person working in the household, having found work breaking up concrete from 6am to 8pm daily. His wage, when the boss was willing to pay, was 50-100JD monthly (approx. $70-$130.).

The desperate and urgent situations of these young men follow me back to the states. We have a way to get money directly to such households. If someone among you, or a group or community, would be able to wire a monthly contribution directly to our friend, she would make sure that it reaches such a household. You can call me or write me for detailed information. Tel. 212-777-9617, email: .

I greet you with much love, Cathy Breen

VCNV Author

Cathy Breen

Resettling by Cathy Breen

Dan Pearson — Thu, 23 Oct 2008 17:35:33 -0500

Short Information Teaser

I learned that among the things he was forced to leave behind was a large feather pillow his mother had made about seventy years ago.

Excerpt

Amman, Jordan
October 22, 2008

I learned that among the things he was forced to leave behind was a large feather pillow his mother had made about seventy years ago. She had gathered the feathers herself. Also left behind were some embroidery pieces she had made as well as a couple of books and other items. When his wife died of cancer over 28 years ago, this gentle man had raised his three children alone. I met his only daughter recently in Syria. She and her husband are among the refugee population there longing to join family in a safe place where they can work and raise their two small daughters. I thought of an embroidered pillow case cover my mother gave me some years back. It is something I cherish imagining how she had laid her head on it as a child. Maybe, I told him, I could retrieve some of the things left behind with a neighbor.

Body

Amman, Jordan
October 22, 2008

Dear Friends,

The other day I saw an elderly Iraqi gentleman off at the Amman airport. After months of waiting on his security clearance, he was finally on his way to join his two sons and four grandchildren in the states. He has been living alone in Amman for at least two years now, and I had asked him if he would like me to accompany him to the airport. He accepted my offer.

As we made our way to the airport in the early morning hours, I asked him if he had gotten any sleep. He said he had been up all night trying to pack, to fit all of his worldly belongings in two medium size suitcases. I learned that among the things he was forced to leave behind was a large feather pillow his mother had made about seventy years ago. She had gathered the feathers herself. Also left behind were some embroidery pieces she had made as well as a couple of books and other items. When his wife died of cancer over 28 years ago, this gentle man had raised his three children alone. I met his only daughter recently in Syria. She and her husband are among the refugee population there longing to join family in a safe place where they can work and raise their two small daughters. I thought of an embroidered pillow case cover my mother gave me some years back. It is something I cherish imagining how she had laid her head on it as a child. Maybe, I told him, I could retrieve some of the things left behind with a neighbor. Iraqi Gentleman at the Amman Airport

As we waited in the airport we were surrounded by a host of other Iraqis, also being resettled to the United States, taking the same flight. Some had family there, others were going to states to which they had been assigned. I watched as each received a large white plastic bag with the letters IOM (International Organization for Migration) on it. The bag would identify them as refugees when they arrived at their various destinations. It seemed so demeaning. As the time drew near to enter the passenger checking area, we joined the others lining up with their suitcases and bags. In front of us was a woman clothed from head to foot in a black abaya. Only her eyes were visible through a slit in the face covering.

Despite all the years I have spent in the Middle East, the sight of women with their faces covered is something that always seems to give me a start. The woman in front of us at the airport was accompanied by her husband, a blind gentleman who stood behind her with his hand on her shoulder. I wondered what type of welcome was in store for them in the states. Where were they going? Did they speak any English at all? What will await them? At a recent McCain rally in Minneapolis, an elderly woman took the microphone to speak. She said “I don’t trust Obama. I’ve read about him, and he’s an Arab.” McCain’s awkward reply seemed to imply that being an “Arab” and a “decent family man” were somehow mutually exclusive.

A friend arrived from the states yesterday. We first met in 2003 in Baghdad in the weeks preceding the U.S.-led invasion. He too was with Voices as part of the Iraq Peace team. He will be spending the next weeks in Jordan and Syria to follow the plight of Iraqi refugees in the region. Last night we went to visit a family of eight who have been advised that they will be resettled in the U.S. They have no family there, and have no idea where they will be assigned. Ironically the father of the family is also blind due to an injury he suffered in the Iraq-Iran war over twenty years ago. It was my third visit to their humble apartment and, together with our Iraqi translator whom they know and trust, we were warmly greeted.

We asked how they are doing, if they received any news from IOM as to when they might travel? They had no news of travel dates, but the mother of six advised us that her own mother in Baghdad is ill. More than anything, she would like to see her elderly mother one final time before she leaves for the U.S. Sadly, this simple wish will not be granted. If she were to travel to Baghdad to visit even briefly with family, she would not be allowed back into Jordan. Two of her brothers were killed in Iraq in the last couple of years. We want to keep in touch with this family. When they find out where they will be going, we might know groups or have friends in that state who could welcome and befriend them.

I am delighted to tell you that I have the feather pillow and some of the embroidered pieces. It gives me such pleasure to think that the grandchildren will have these treasured items.

VCNV Author

Cathy Breen

Update from Cathy Breen

Joel Gulledge — Wed, 08 Oct 2008 12:25:52 -0500

Short Information Teaser

I wasn't prepared for the extent of impoverishment I would see in Syria

Excerpt

Amman, Jordan
October 6, 2008

I wasn’t prepared for the extent of impoverishment I would see in Syria. Arriving by bus just a few hours after a suicide car bomb took the lives of at least 17 civilians in Damascus, I learned about the attack from the taxi driver who took me from the bus stop to the neighborhood where I was to meet my translator. Although I understood the Arabic word for “explosion,” it was only later that I would get more details.

Body

Amman, Jordan
October 6, 2008

Dear friends,

This visit was somehow different from my other trips to Syria. Maybe it is that I feel more comfortable and at home in the Middle East. But more likely it was due to the invaluable help and friendship of an Iraqi man, a “refugee” himself, who acted not only as my guide and translator, but who allowed me to see Syria through his eyes, the eyes of an Iraqi. I will call this friend Mohammed.

Coming from the United States as I do, I did not expect a welcome mat. Just over a year had passed since I was last in Syria, but this time the disdain I felt towards me on the part of ordinary people on the street could no longer be disguised or misinterpreted. My frequent requests for directions for example were often met with abruptness or stony silence. Should this come as a surprise? How could it be any different? A suicide bomb exploding in one’s city can only drive fear and terror into hearts and minds, causing each to question: Who brought on this ever-expanding “War against Terrorism?” It was a comfort for me to be at Mohammed’s side a great deal of the time. As an Iraqi trying to survive in Syria, he is himself accustomed to the cold shoulder and to being suspect. We made an odd pair, of that I am sure.

Like countless others Mohammed lives from hand to mouth not sure where he will come up with rent and food money, not to mention money to renew Syrian visas, or for water, electricity, transportation, cooking gas and necessary phone cards and internet—the latter his contact with family and the outside world. Alone in Syria, cut off from family, more than once Mohammed expressed uneasiness about the “walls having ears.” Not that he has anything to hide. On the contrary Mohammed is one of those rare individuals one chances upon only a few times in a lifetime, a person I would describe as “without guile.” Apart from loneliness, not being able to work and earn a livelihood is perhaps one of the greatest hardships he faces.

The Ministry of Foreign Affairs estimates there are 1.2 million Iraqi residents in Syria with current valid visas. To date approximately 220,000 Iraqi refugees have been registered by the UNHCR In addition to numerous visits with Iraqi individuals and families in their apartments, I was very fortunate to meet on two occasions with representatives from the UNHCR, including someone from their Resettlement program. The UNHCR is fortunate as well to have such capable and caring people on their staff. Both times I was warmly received and given ample time to hear about their programs as well as present my own concerns on the basis of concrete cases.

I had many questions. What about families/individuals facing imminent return to Iraq because their money has run out? What about families/individuals with dire medical and psychological needs, where suicide has been attempted for example? I wanted to know how resettlement cases are being selected given the enormous numbers of refugees in Syria? What about Iraqis who have been in Syria for some years now and feel they are being overlooked and forgotten. They see Iraqis more recently arrived, often with fabricated stories and false documents, being moved on and resettled. Is the increasing destitution of Iraqis in Syria before 2006 being factored into the criteria for selecting cases? Is not being able—ever—to return to Iraq a contributing factor? Does having family in other countries act to someone’s advantage with respect to resettlement?

While the UNHCR’s labors in both Jordan and Syria over the last two years cannot be minimized and are praiseworthy to say the least, it must be acknowledged that the basic needs of the vast number of Iraqi refugees in both countries remain unmet. In both Jordan and Syria it has been left to the UNHCR to get resettlement programs up and running—not to mention the overwhelming task of just registering Iraqis who come to them seeking protection and assistance. The UNHCR remains resolute on their position that it is not safe to return to Iraq.

A critical question for Voices for Creative Nonviolence is how Iraqis can obtain cash assistance to cover their basic needs. How can the exorbitant amounts of U.S. funding going to military spending be diverted to refugee assistance? Even if adequate monies could be diverted, there would first be the issue of identifying people in need, and secondly the task of finding adequate delivery mechanisms to distribute the money. Both tasks are equally daunting in the face of the staggering numbers of refugees.

What I can tell you is the following. Within the next seven month period, the UNHCR in Syria hopes to submit 11,000 cases for resettlement to other countries. The goal for Jordan will be 6,000 for the same time frame. As in Jordan, the selection process for the UNHCR staff in Syria is very labor intensive and time consuming. Each “case” is reviewed and multiple interviews with the candidates are carried out. The cases are selected on the basis of vulnerability, after which resettlement countries willing to take Iraqis must be found. Whether a refugee has family living in one of the resettlement countries enters into the equation only AFTER they have been selected for resettlement. This might sound confusing, but it is vital to understand this point. Perhaps a concrete situation can best illustrate this dilemma. The following account should be seen as just one little boat among countless others, trying to stay afloat in a turbulent ocean of misfortune.

Upon my arrival in Damascus, I telephoned an Iraqi family in Aleppo, in the north of Syria, to put a question to them. I was to meet with someone from the UNHCR before I would have the opportunity to meet the family, and thought that maybe I could speak of their situation with the representative. This couple, together with their two small children and the husband’s sister, were able to escape the death threats and violence of their country. Denied entrance to Jordan, they made their way to Syria in December of 2006. The wife has brothers in the states, and the husband has a brother in Canada. It is through the wife’s 75 year old father here in Amman, waiting to join his sons in the U.S., that I came to learn of this family. Wanting to know what the thoughts and wishes of the family were, I asked the wife over the telephone “Do you want to go to Canada or to the U.S.?” The mother’s voice broke as she answered “We will go anywhere where we can be safe.” A telling response, as wishes no longer factor in.

A few days later I traveled to Aleppo, a 4-5 hour trip, and met the family. I learned that the family had to flee because of the father’s work with a USAID/Iraq Company in Baghdad. He was told that he would be killed if he didn’t cease his work with USAID. One fateful day as Iraqi soldiers were arresting people on the street outside their home, the family burned any documents that would implicate the father’s association with Americans. The mother spoke of her terror and how she miscarried when she was unable to locate her husband. I was struck by the flat affect of their older daughter who is eight years old. I learned that her school was bombed while she was in class. As an “intact” family, meaning they do not fall into the same category as lets say a widow with children or a single woman for example, this family would factor in low on the totem pole for resettlement. This is despite the fact that they have family in both the U.S. and Canada desperate to receive them and grant them a safe harbor. If you do the math, over two million refugees in Iraq’s surrounding countries, and 17,000 possible resettlement slots in the upcoming months, it will cause your hearts to sink. It is at best a dismal forecast.

VCNV Author

Cathy Breen

Peace Pirates

Jeff Leys — Tue, 26 Aug 2008 11:26:02 -0500

Short Information Teaser

Cathy Breen writes from Amman, Jordan

Excerpt

Amman, Jordan
August 24, 2008

Dear Friends,

Yesterday afternoon as I got into a public taxi, or “service” as they are called here, a friendly driver greeted me in English, something very rare. This type of taxi carries four passengers, and it seems that people are reluctant to be heard speaking English. I had ridden in this driver’s taxi before, and the other time he felt free as well to address me in English. His words yesterday however took me completely by surprise. “Did you hear about the boats arriving in Gaza!” he said excitedly. He was referring to the Free Gaza campaign which I too have been following with great interest. We have friends among the 45 or so human rights activists on the two boats which, despite multiple threats, set sail from Cyprus to break the siege and end the blockade of Gaza and its 1.5 million occupants.

Body

Amman, Jordan
August 24, 2008

Dear Friends,

With 42% of the Palestinian population living in Jordan, this event received extensive news coverage on Jordan TV last night and today. Sadly I was unable to understand much of the Arabic, but the joyful faces of the Palestinians and the “peace pirates” alike were worth a million words. The mission of these humble vessels and their international crew was clear, “We are not delivering humanitarian aid. This is about the right of the Palestinians to live freely,” said one of their spokespersons. What a sign of hope to all of us in these desperate and dark times!

School began last week here in Jordan, and this is always a painful time for Iraqis who have no income or legal status. So many Iraqi children are either not in school or have been out of school for some years. Many are teenagers now with little hope of ever catching up with their peers. What is the saying “Idle hands, a devil’s workshop?” But with staggering rent, fuel, electricity, water and food prices,. school enrollment has become a source of distress for the majority of the Jordanian population. The cost of milk has risen 35%, and lentils has increased fourfold in price over the last months.

Over 30,000 Jordanian children have been transferred from private to public schools this year. Some classes are already overcrowded with 60 students, and now there is the need in many areas for the school to “double-shift.” Under the two-shift system the morning classes begin at 6:45am until 11:45am, the second shift from noon to 5:00pm. Teachers on fixed salaries are bearing the burden. “As teachers how can we live with this system? I chose this profession so I could go home and take care of my family!” (The Jordan Times, Aug.22-23,08) Tragically the resentment felt by teachers, parents and students alike is often transferred to Iraqi children. The overcrowding has led to “waiting lists” for new students, and it falls to the school administration to decide if spots will go to Iraqi or Jordanian children.

I want to close with another sign of hope. A mother in the states wrote the following message and sent a gift of money which will go to several mothers of Iraqi children for shoes, uniforms or other school related needs. Each of the mother’s receiving a small sum of money will hear her words.

“Dear Friend, First, I want you to know that there are many, many people in this country who care about you, and would like to help you. We feel almost as helpless as you. This money seems like a small gesture. Here is a picture of my son, Andy. He’s 8 years old. It is so painful for me to think of other children, just like him, caught in the middle of such a terrible situation. I cannot tell you that it’s all going to be OK. But I can tell you there are many people who care about you and are trying to improve your situation. I wish our children could be playing together while we talk and laugh. But this is the best we can do right now. Inshallah [God willing], someday we will meet in peace.”

There are so many “peace pirates” doing what they can to bring healing and hope. Let us take heart.

Cathy Breen

VCNV Author

Cathy Breen

Letter from Cathy Breen: "How can the walls ever come down?"

Cathy Breen — Tue, 12 Aug 2008 14:40:45 -0500

Short Information Teaser

An Iraqi friend told me recently that the lack of electricity and jobs continue to fan the fires of anger and resistance. "Violence would decrease 50%" he said "if there were electricity."

Excerpt

Amman, Jordan
Aug 10, 2008

Dear Friends,

“How can the walls ever come down?” was the question I put to three Iraqi friends. Late yesterday afternoon I went next door to ask a neighbor if we could watch Iraqi TV news together. Would he mind translating for me? This young friend often helps me with Arabic, and I had brought my notebook along. We were joined by his brother and another Iraqi friend who will be returning to Baghdad soon. Moslem and Christians, we sat together. The walls I was referring to are the concrete barricades which have been constructed by the coalition forces throughout all of Baghdad. These walls seal off and separate entire communities.

Body

Amman, Jordan
Aug 10, 2008

Dear Friends,

One evening last week, I met with two journalist friends from the U.S. who had just returned from a month-long trip to Iraq. As I listened to them, I was heartened and sickened at the same time. I was amazed at the freedom of movement they described, not only for themselves as foreigners, but for Iraqis. Of course they are seasoned reporters with long-time experience and contacts; they know how to proceed with caution and prudence. While the atmosphere remains tense and explosions continue, they reported, people have begun to feel safer in the last couple of months. They are venturing out more. The economy is a mess with high inflation, but crime is down.

Nevertheless, I was sick at heart to hear that almost all of the neighborhoods in Baghdad have been walled off, each with a single entrance and exit point. In order to enter one must negotiate with the particular militia/entity protecting that neighborhood. The Iraqi army is out in strength and better equipped and trained than they were three years ago. They now have, for example, some armed humvees.

An Iraqi friend told me recently that the lack of electricity and jobs continue to fan the fires of anger and resistance. “Violence would decrease 50%” he said “if there were electricity.”

Just recently I got to see the son of a family from Baghdad, a family whom we’ve known for years. When I lived in Baghdad their twelve year old daughter used to teach me Arabic. She is now seventeen. What a joy it was to meet with him and get an update on each member of the family. As we visited I couldn’t help remembering him as a lanky 18 year old with a lopsided smile going off to fight in Saddam’s army. This was right before the invasion, and he had no choice. Five years later he is working as a bodyguard in Baghdad. He was able to come to Amman because he is accompanying an Iraqi minister here for meetings. He told me that the only work available in Baghdad is as a bodyguard, a soldier or a policeman. His younger brother works as a soldier in the Iraq army. Their dear mother is unwell; no wonder given the worry she must face at the safety of her sons. This son told us of a recent bomb attack against the minister he is paid to protect. Three of his fellow bodyguards were killed. He has survived, so far. He was able to take a handwritten letter from me back to his family, along with a picture I took of us together.

The above mentioned journalist friends said “Everyone is waiting to see how the elections will turn out.” They patiently tried to walk me through the complex myriad of sectarian groupings, parties, militias, army and police. Yet despite their attempts at clarification, I was left feeling confused and overwhelmed. I liken it to a chess game where there are too many players and no rules. Elite Shi’a groups like the Dowa party and the Supreme Islam Council, Moqtada Al Sadr with his Mehdi army, The Awakening or SaHwa, primarily Sunni, the list seems endless. “Everyone at the ground level wants the Americans out,” they said. An uneasy balance of power, it is clear there will be no winners even after the elections in Iraq take place.

And so we sat together yesterday, Moslem and Christian Iraqis. Both from Baghdad, they met here in Amman. No one can deny that the experience of Christian Iraqis is different from that of Moslem Iraqis. The Christians in Iraq have been targeted not only as “infidels” by radical Islamic extremists, but they have been caught in the middle of sectarian violence, a fact born out by our Moslem friend. But they both share in common the unspeakable suffering unleashed by this war. They have both lost family and friends in the killing and violence. Both have lost homes and homeland. Families are separated, and their futures uncertain. As I sat and listened to their heated discussion in Arabic, I was struck by the respectful tone. How can the walls come down? I asked again.

One of the young men responded thoughtfully “It will take time….everything takes time.” Another said smiling “We thought the same of Saddam Hussein’s pictures. They were everywhere, even in the bathrooms!” These men give me hope that maybe some day the walls, like Saddam’s pictures, will come down.

Cathy Breen

VCNV Author

Cathy Breen

Letter from Cathy Breen

voices — Sat, 02 Aug 2008 21:01:39 -0500

Short Information Teaser

"Despite the Iraqi government’s current campaign to get Iraqis to return to their country, no Iraqi here that I’ve spoken with is willing to return."

Excerpt

Amman, Jordan
July 30, 2008

Dear Friends,

Yesterday I received the following message from friends in Baghdad.

“Our Prime Minister visited the pope a few days ago and invited him to visit Iraq and persuade Christian Iraqis to return back to Iraq…. though Iraq is still a hotbed of crime and conspiracy. Many Iraqis in Syria and Jordan have returned either because their savings were depleted or they were not lucky enough to be picked by the UNHCR. Until now I cannot understand the criteria they are using to select the refugees. The conditions here are still bad, with no services at all. We even boil the drinking water to make sure it is safe while we heard that in the Green zone they import distilled water from Kuwait to use for washing and showers.”

Body

Amman, Jordan
July 30, 2008

Dear Friends,

Yesterday I received the following message from friends in Baghdad.

Stating that the security situation has improved inside of Iraq, there is a push on the part of the Iraqi government for the return of Iraqi refugees. Monthly financial incentives are being offered to returning Iraqis as well as to people inside of Iraq who have taken up residence, for instance, in other peoples’ homes. On a recent trip to Europe, Prime Minister Nouri Malaki asked Germany to review its position on refugees as Berlin has led a campaign to allow several thousand Iraqi refugees to resettle in the European Union. German Chancellor Angela Merkel told the press “I think we should back plans to see the greatest number return home, with necessary encouragements.” (The Jordan Times 7.24.08) The pope himself, distressed at the mass exodus of Iraqi Christians from the region, is encouraging them to return. But is he, or anyone else for that matter, asking Iraqis what they want?

Despite the Iraqi government’s current campaign to get Iraqis to return to their country, no Iraqi here that I’ve spoken with is willing to return. Moreover, the UNHCR is not promoting or encouraging Iraqis to return until they can do so safely and with dignity. As part of an internal study the UNHCR asked Iraqis in Jordan if they would return to Iraq: 90% said not at all, 5% said at some point, and 5% were undecided. The results were similar in Syria.

Beginning in mid-February of this year the Jordan government announced its own three-month campaign to encourage Iraqis to return home. This was in the form of a “waiver of fines” for Iraqi nationalists who had overstayed their visas, while those who wished to stay would have their fines cut in half and then receive a three-month visa. Jordan’s Minister of Interior described the number of Iraqis who benefited from the exemption as disappointing, compared with the total number of Iraqis in the country which stands at half a million. “Only 3,000 Iraqis have left the country while 12,000 stayed and benefited from the exemption decision.” (The Jordan Times, July 20,2008)

The other night I made myself look at the gruesome pictures on the TV news, pictures of bodies ripped apart by explosions in Turkey. Two consecutive suicide bombings were carried out in a crowded shopping area, the second as rescue attempts were going on. Seventeen innocent people dead. In Baghdad and Kirkuk at least 58 people died in suicide bombings the same day.

About 5 months ago an Iraqi couple and their two year old son were allowed to enter Jordan for medical reasons. Their little boy was near death and in need of an emergency operation. The operation was successful, thank God, and the parents will be returning to Iraq soon. This precious child has captured my heart, as well as his mother who is expecting their fourth child. The father shared with me how he saw a mother, beside herself with grief, frantically racing with part of her son to a hospital after such an explosion. Holding only his legs in her arms, she was screaming “Sew him together, sew my son back together! While no one disputes that the number of deaths and attacks have declined since the “surge,” the ongoing violence and carnage continue in alarming proportions compared to other parts of the region. It seems somehow obscene to even think in terms of numbers, doesn’t it? But I fear we have simply become immune to the numbers….and the images are tragically withheld from us.

Cathy Breen

VCNV Author

Cathy Breen

Letter from Cathy Breen

Cathy Breen — Mon, 28 Jul 2008 10:02:30 -0500

Short Information Teaser

What would you do if your child was kidnapped?

Excerpt

July 27,2008
Amman, Jordan

Dear Friends,

“Think about it for a second. What would you do if your child was kidnapped? If you were in a war-torn country where the police couldn’t help you? To many, if not most parents, the answer of course would be—anything, anything. Including paying ransom to those who were holding their child even if the kidnappers were terrorists. Over the past five years for many Iraqis, that choice has been a very grim reality.” (Dan Rather Reports on ‘The High Price of Ransom,” HDNet TV, July 1, 2008)

Last week in a meeting at the United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR) in Amman, I was asked if I had seen the above program. I had not, but was later able to get a printout of the text. I have it before me as I write you. Why is it that I am not surprised to read that one in every four Iraqis seeking help from the UNHCR has had a family member kidnapped? And yet seeing this number in print creates a knot in my stomach, and a feeling of nausea. One in four, imagine. One in four.

Body

July 27,2008
Amman, Jordan

Dear Friends,

A day or so after the meeting at the UNHCR—I had gone to get an update on their activities over the last 7 months and to learn of their current position—I was sitting with a Jordanian woman in a public square not far from where I am living. An Iraqi man I know quite well saw us and approached asking if I could meet with a father whose little daughter is ill. What could I say? How could I refuse? The timing was providential as the Jordanian woman agreed to translate for us.

About 1/2 hour later, the father arrived and showed me a medical report of his 4 year old daughter. She has suffered from seizures since birth, and Caritas is no longer able to provide the needed medications. His own savings have run out. They had four children, but a year ago one of their daughters died of cancer. She was just seven.

This family fled to Jordan about two years ago, after their then seven year old boy was kidnapped in Baghdad. The child was held for three weeks. The father explained that the family paid $8,000 of a $10,000 ransom for their son’s release. They sought help with the UNHCR in Amman and, after arduous and lengthy processing, were granted refugee status and qualified for resettlement. Last October they had the one deciding interview with someone from the U.S. Homeland Security team. The officer asked this father “Why did you pay a ransom and support the terrorists?” The father showed me the form letter of rejection with the box “credibility” checked. The letter did not even have a date on it.

As the time drew near to take leave of one another, I remembered that I had an envelope in my bag from friends in the U.S. for just such a family in need. Together with the money was a handwritten message from them, and I am sorry now that I didn’t think to copy it. Just two sentences as I recall, but words that conveyed the deep longing and desire that one day we would live in peace together. The simple words seemed to encircle and embrace us, and it was enough to just sit silently together for some moments.

Cathy Breen

VCNV Author

Cathy Breen

Letter from Cathy Breen

Jeff Leys — Wed, 04 Jun 2008 18:32:11 -0500

Short Information Teaser

Cathy Breen will return to Amman in July

Excerpt

May 25, 2008

Dear Friends,

Affectionate greetings to you. It is a beautiful sunny Sunday here in New York City. Since my return to the states in early December of 2007, the time has been filled primarily with the activities of community life. We have had several deaths of beloved folks at the Catholic Worker, but we also await with great anticipation the birth of a new baby any day now! There have been visits to the Philadelphia area to see my own family, three trips to Washington, D.C. for meetings, and speaking engagements mostly in the northeast.

As I write you, a great portion of the floor in my room is covered with bags of used clothing, clothing which will hopefully find its way to needy Iraqi refugees in Jordan and Syria. Yes, their situation has become so desperate that they have no money to pay rent let alone buy clothing. I have tried to raise money at some of the speaking events to wire to Iraqis in Jordan so that they won’t have to return to Iraq. The plight of Iraqi refugees has worsened as increasing numbers have reached the end of their funds and with no legal residency are unable to work.

Body

May 25, 2008

Dear Friends,

I wanted to let you know by way of this letter that I plan to return to the Middle East on July 1st for a 3 to 4 month period. If you would want to send money to Iraqis in Jordan and Syria, I would personally deliver it to those in need. It is one way, albeit small, to begin to pay reparations. Moreover, I would encourage you to write a message, however brief, to accompany any contribution, something you would want to say to the person or family.

About two months ago I had the opportunity to speak with a 6th grade class at a school in Brooklyn. Never having spoken with a group so young, I was very mindful of how impressionable I was myself at that age. How to bring the reality of Iraqi children to them? I asked myself. I passed pictures of children their age around, Iraqi children living in Iraq as well as Iraqi children living in Syria and Jordan. I carry an ID piece of a cluster bomb around with me in my change purse which reads “MADE IN THE USA.” As I was speaking it occurred to me to take it out to show the children. This particular cluster bomb exploded in the air on the afternoon of March 31, 2003 during the “Shock and Awe” bombing campaign. It hit 7 homes and killed three boys aged 18, 13 and 7 years of age. I visited the bombing site the next day and, as I walked through the homes of the modest residential area holding ugly twisted metal parts in my hand and speaking with some of the wounded, I had to listen to the keening and wailing of grieving family members. The sound of their mourning stayed with me for months and months.

When I returned home from the school I heard on the radio news that in a neighborhood of Baghdad where I had lived under the occupation, two suicide bombs had gone off killing 68 persons and wounding over 100. Equally tragic, but unknown to many, is the fact that more Iraqis are killed on a daily basis by U.S. air strikes than by suicide bombs and mortar attacks. A close Iraqi woman friend here in the city—but whose family is in Baghdad—recently asked me with tear filled eyes “Why are they bombing us?” Her 13 year old daughter followed up on her mother’s question, “And is it true they are using planes [drones] that have no pilots!”

A couple of days after my visit to the Brooklyn school class the 6th grade teacher, a friend of ours, brought me letters written by her students. Here are a couple of excerpts from those letters which moved me deeply.

“Since the war has been going on for years, I have kind of forgotten about it. It just didn’t seem that important anymore until you came. I had no idea how bad it is and I wish I can do something about it. It seems so unfair.”

“Most interesting fact that you told us was the bomb that let out little pieces that said ‘Made in the U.S.A.’ I find that very interesting because it shows that we too can be the bad people or maybe in Iraqis’ eyes a terrorist, not only the people we are against.”

“I think the war should end. We are fighting for a silly reason. We don’t need to kill people and their friends and family.”

“I was sad when you said 3 boys died of a bomb that was made in the United States….Another scary picture was where the girl was walking from school and there was blood all over the steps.”

“Something that I found pretty overwhelming is when you were passing around the piece of the bomb. It was hard for me to comprehend that this had cut short 3 boys lives, that it had caused great sadness to 3 families…3 innocent families. Another thing that’s hard for me to think about is what growing up there must be like. Especially for a child that was born at or during the war. This would mean that violence would be all they have ever known, they’ve never known peace. My younger sister is 5 years old. The war has been going on for 5 years. This makes me realize how different her life would be if we lived there.”

This morning I read a recent interview of Fr. Daniel Berrigan by Chris Hedges. (The Nation, May 21,2008) In the article Dan says “This is the worst time of my long life. I have never had such meager expectations of the system. I find those expectations verified in the paucity and shallowness every day I live.” Dan goes on to say, Hedges relates, that all empires rise and fall. It is the religious and moral values of compassion, simplicity and justice that endure and alone demand fealty. “…the tragedy across the globe is that we are pulling down so many others. We are not falling gracefully. Many, many people are paying with their lives for this. The fall of the towers [on 9/11] was symbolic as well as actual. We are bringing ourselves down by a willful blindness that is astonishing.”

Dan argues, says Hedges, that those who seek a just society, who seek to defy war and violence, who decry the assault of globalization and degradation of the environment, who care about the plight of the poor, should stop worrying about the practical, short-term effects of their resistance.

“The good,” Dan says, “is to be done because it is good, not because it goes somewhere. I believe if it is done in that spirit it will go somewhere, but I don’t know where. I don’t think the Bible grants us to know where goodness goes, what direction, what force. I have never been seriously interested in the outcome. I was interested in trying to do it humanly and carefully and nonviolently and let it go.” I take comfort from these words, and it is in this spirit that I write to you, dear friends, who have supported me throughout the last dark years of war.

Hoping to hear from you before I depart, for now I greet you with gratitude and prayers for peace.

Cathy Breen

VCNV Author

Cathy Breen

Reflections on Iraq - February 2008

Jeff Leys — Thu, 28 Feb 2008 08:07:02 -0600

Short Information Teaser

Cathy Breen writes on the war in Iraq.

Excerpt

February 28, 2008

Dear Friends,

I began this letter the other day on a bus returning from a two-day trip to D.C. where Maryknoll’s Social Concerns office had set up meetings with various groups to address the Iraqi refugee crisis. This was the third trip to D.C. since my return to the states in early December, part of an ongoing strategizing with Maryknoll colleagues as to how we might make real the desperate situation of Iraqi refugees. We’ve been able to convey concrete concerns and questions to a Congressperson with an entry to Homeland Security, to the Congressional Progressive Caucus, to the US Conference of Catholic Bishops, and others.

On this particular trip I was not traveling alone. I was accompanied by a dear Iraqi friend who was also going to D.C., and it was wonderful to have so many hours to catch up with each other. While on the bus a member of his family in Baghdad called on his cell phone, bringing their reality there close to us. Security has improved we heard due to the fact that the city is divided up with countless checkpoints and barriers. “It is like being in prison” he said.

Body

February 28, 2008

Dear Friends,

A recent communication from another Iraqi friend in Baghdad spoke of improved security in recent months, but that all the streets are blocked. “Though this has helped stabilize the security, it has put a burden on people. It used to take me 10 minutes to get to work….now I spend around 60-90 minutes to do the same.” The friend continued “It is as if we were living in a nightmare to awaken and find that we have a country with no systems, something very difficult to understand. You can do anything you want with money or threats, but you can’t do anything if you walk in a correct and honest way. There is a complete collapse of most governmental institutions and no hope to improve things as long as political issues control the VIP positions….The people who control the Ministries (apart from the very few honest ones) are not eligible to be in this position or any other position because most of the honest people have been killed or threatened. Those who remain are those who can protect themselves by being in one of the groups or parties. They are the same. …We feel desperate and hurt from what is going on, as if we don’t belong to this society.”

In the stack of papers I’d brought with me on the bus were two articles I would refer to those of you who are stout-hearted enough to bear more bad news. On is of an interview of Dahr Jamail by Jeremy Scahill for the Nation. The other is “Iraq’s Tidal Wave of Misery, The first history of the planet’s worst refugee crisis” by Michael Schwartz. Though hesitant to burden my Iraqi friend with the heavy content in these pieces, I was also anxious for his opinion. I wish time and space would allow me to share some of his comments but he shared, for the most part, in the viewpoints of both articles.

One thing that struck me in some of the meetings I had in D.C. was the marked lack of Iraqi perspective and input. What are they experiencing, sensing, wanting? What is their advice in the face of the chaos and suffering that seems to have no end? In the years since the war and occupation, I often recall the words of an Iraqi to me when I was in Baghdad (about ten months into the US-led occupation) “You Americans took the cotton out of our mouths that Saddam had placed there, but you put it in your ears!” To quote Michael Schwartz (professor of sociology at Stony Brook Univ.

“Most horror stories come to an end, but the most horrible part of this horror story is its never-ending quality….From the vast out-migration and internal migrations of its desperate citizens comes damage to society as a whole that is almost impossible to estimate. The displacement of people carries with it the destruction of human capital. The destruction of human capital deprives Iraq of its most precious resource for repairing the damage of war and occupation, condemning it to further infrastructural decline. This tide of infrastructural decline is the surest guarantee of another wave of displacement, of future floods of refugees.”

I see the smiling face of a ten year old Iraqi boy in Amman before me. Not in school, he is working in a carpenter’s shop for 1 Jordanian Dinar a day (approx. $1.40). The father faces immediate deportation back to Iraq should he be caught working. Once this family owned a home and two cars in Baghdad, but they had to flee because of sectarian violence. He is Sunni and his wife is Shi’a. Their money has run out and they have been reduced to a beggarly status. I met the mother and the youngest of their four children as we got off a bus to walk the remaining blocks to the United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR). We struck up a conversation, albeit haltingly on my part, in Arabic. I was going to attend a meeting; she was going to beg assistance. I later visited the family in their dismal rented apartment and was able to leave a gift of money for them from donors in the states.

This letter is becoming quite lengthy and so I will try and bring it to an end. What now? What do we do in the face of such calamity? It is clear that everybody must be doing something. For myself, I am aware that I’ve taken great advantage of my community in being absent for such long periods of time over the last years. I was gone for six months in 2006 and for another six months in 2007. Mindful that the war goes on, the needs around me are also great. We have an eight-month old baby in the house and another baby due in early June, and I find that I am needed here for the next months. But we are blessed indeed! I can’t tell you what joy the children are to all of us. .

My own thought is to return to the Middle East in July and to stay on for a three to four month period. En Shallah. God willing. In the meantime, we are aware of Iraqis in Jordan and Syria who face an imminent return to Iraq as their money has run out. They can no longer pay for rent, electricity, gas, water and food. Due to contributions of friends here in the states who hear of their desperate situation, we have been able, on occasion, to wire money to some individuals and families so they can remain in Jordan and Syria. It seems like such a drop in the bucket, but then every drop counts. I will close now sending you my love and gratitude. It is your constant friendship, prayers and support that help me realize we are all part of one family wherever we might be.

Cathy Breen

(Cathy is a Catholic Worker at Mary House in New York City who lived in Iraq prior to the U.S. invasion in 2003 and during the occupation. When not at Mary House, Cathy is most often in Amman, Jordan living amongst Iraqis forced to flee their homes by the war. She expects to return to Amman this summer).

VCNV Author

Cathy Breen

Cathy Breen: "It's always too soon to go home."

Cathy Breen — Fri, 30 Nov 2007 04:06:30 -0600

Short Information Teaser

Cathy Breen writes from Amman, Jordan

Excerpt

Amman, Jordan
November 25, 2007

Recent media reports depict large numbers of Iraqis returning to their country. “Thousands of Iraqis living in Syria have headed back home in the past weeks.” (Jordan Times, Feb. 23,2007) Some reports attribute this to improved security in Iraq. While the death rate and incidence of suicide bombs has decreased in recent weeks and months—most welcomed news—it seems that necessity is what is driving Iraqis home. As has long been the case in Jordan, visas for Iraqis in Syria are not being renewed and their money has run out. Returning Iraqis have also said they would prefer to die with dignity in their own country, rather than face the contempt and humiliation they feel in Jordan and Syria.

Body

Amman, Jordan
November 25, 2007

I spoke with an Iraqi family last night on the phone. If they were agreeable, I wanted to take a Jesuit priest, from Detroit but living in Nicaragua for many years, to visit them. The father could not mask his despair over the phone, nor his reluctance to see us. “Will your visit have any result on our situation?” he asked me. “Cathy” he said “You are like our sister. Our door is always open to you. But what good does it do to tell our story to people from the states? I feel, I feel”…he struggled for the words in English…. “Like we are….in the circus [on show].” He explained that just a half hour before I telephoned he was speaking with his wife about returning to Baghdad to find work. “Our money has run out” he said “and I cannot beg. I just cannot beg.”

Kathy Kelly had gone earlier in the evening to the airport to meet this friend, the Jesuit. As it happened, they missed one another. Returning to the city bus, she sat next to an Iraqi businessman who had just come from Baghdad. He related to her that his wife and children had gone to Syria but returned to Baghdad because life there was too expensive. He told her how in Baghdad there are at least five different groups ready to kill you if you step out of your house. “Everything shuts down at 2pm.”

You might have read the article I shared recently about the famous pet market (Al Ghazi) in Baghdad; how people flock to the market on Fridays to purchase a bird or pet to keep them company as they are home-bound and lonely. Just four days after sending out the letter, a bomb hidden in a box of pigeons exploded in the same market killing 15 people. A local store owner about 150 yards from the blast sight said “Today the view of many young men coming with pets, colorful fish in aquariums and dogs was very encouraging and cheerful. There were teenagers selling sandwiches and tea in wheeled carts giving the impression that life is back to normal again.” The shopkeeper described the scene as one “of chaos with birds flying through smoke as the bodies of young men who had been killed and wounded lay on the ground.” (ASP, Bushra Juhi, Feb. 23,07) How unspeakably sad it was to see those same images here on TV.

In about a week I will be returning to the states. “It’s always too soon to go home.” These words are in a little book called “Hope in the Dark” by Rebecca Solnit that Kathy Kelly passed on to me the other day. Today I hope to visit the family I had wanted to take our Jesuit friend to. I will go alone. I will take the last of the money given to me by so many friends in the states. It will perhaps pay the family’s rent, but I know they will feel the humiliation of receiving “charity.” There are so many families and groups in the states who would be eager to assist Iraqis on an ongoing basis so they would not have to return to Baghdad. But how to connect them? I try to tell myself that we do what we can. But somehow our efforts seem so insignificant in light of the needs.

Rebecca Solnit writes that tragedy is seductive. She speaks of the nature of adversarial activism where “the only story many radicals know how to tell is the one that is the underside of the dominant culture’s story…They [the radicals] conceive of the truth as pure bad news, appoint themselves deliverers of it, and keep telling it over and over.” This can lead, she points out, to obsession with the enemy. How well I know this. But she also writes that “doors demand passage,” and that “hopefulness is risky, since it is after all a form of trust, trust in the unknown and the possible.”

If you don’t hear from me again before my return to the states, I want to thank you for reading my letters, the stories I have told over and over. I want to thank you for making this trip possible. I have passed through many doors this time around; you have all gone through them with me. I am very grateful.

Cathy Breen

VCNV Author

Cathy Breen