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Showing posts from February 24, 2005

17. Had I Just Listened/Part Four

Iraqis, throughout the dictator’s era, never divorced I.D. from companionship, military record I.D. in particular, even if they were sauntering only a few meters away from home. Leaving home, otherwise, with countless checkpoints dispersed cunningly all over, was none other than insanity that embroiled definite noxious consequences. Special Saytarratt were baleful omnipresent reminders of the tyranny that could swoop down throttling at any time or any place. Iraqis stomached daily terrorizing from direly armed cops or special unit guards, patrolling or stationed, usually clad in easily distinguishable olive-green uniforms and brown reddish boots, who blocked roads to ‘special” areas, looked hard at faces, asked for I.D.’s, and were unrelentingly dogged in searching for incriminating evidence without serious cause. Any reckless hint of a senior moment was enough to bring down upon one the menacing cudgel of the grievous yoke under which Iraqis lived. A triviality such as mere name res