by Jenny Campbell | Indymedia.org | 12/11/2004
I am Fallujah.
I am Fallujah.
Once before I endured the colonial arrogance of another nation upon my soil.
That was 87 years ago,
and with their superior weapons,
they, too, came to liberate us.
I cried out.
I warned them
that I would not endure
an uninvited presence.
The Empire thought
my people ignorant.
And now, under a different flag, you strike with the precision of deranged camel, your weapons missing your stated target again and again, all the while knowing your real target is complete conquest.
You screamed when my people vented their rage upon one or two of your suited predators.
With false indignation, you summoned your weapons of mass destruction while truckloads of our dead rumbled past your snipers to a lonely mass burial.
Sometimes you even shot at the drivers.
And when my people reported the downfall of another child, another family in one of your precision strikes you claimed they lied, they exaggerated, they falsified the facts.
Do they exaggerate today when a pall of ten thousand misinformed soldiers enter their city with homicidal rules of engagement?
Have you told your own people that those orders include shooting surrendering citizens on sight?
And still you use the language of benevolence.
You promote the dubious presence of a sinister entity to re-direct world attention through your selective, rhetorical lens.
Zarqawi, Zarqawi, Zarqawi you chant
as you handsomely reward your media servants for their silence.
Yet you dare not acknowledge that with each death, you induce the birth of another fighter.
With each bomb,
the hatred of your colonial ambition grows.
And around the world, with every drop of blood you cause, you feed reaction and backwardness the very food it needs to sabotage the aspirations of the worlds people.
The true freedom from oppression you so cynically claim to champion.
To meet your ends, you consciously blur the distinction between terrorist and insurgent.
The terrorist is your ally, although you call him enemy.
The terrorist is the veil behind which your blood encrusted nails attempt to gouge out the clear vision of humanity.
The terrorist is your very own Frankenstein monster forged in the laboratories of your foreign policy.
The insurgent simply fights to be free - of you, a searing resistance born from the fires of scorned dignity.
While your craven campaign
may momentarily subdue those who survive, you shall neither defeat them, nor befriend them, for the tincture of time will barely soothe the memories of such atrocities as yours.
I am Fallujah. I am all cities under imperialist siege.
We have fought you before.
We know what motivates you.
We know your eyes.
They reflect the barrels of black poison that have drained you of decency.
And in your murderous pursuit of plundered profits, you stand to condemn all of our children to a lifetime of intellectual and emotional anguish.
Remember this: we did not invite you into our house.
When you claim the mantle of nobility,
know that it is in infamy your legacy will find its home.