Insurgents at the Gate

                                                     

Carefully screening the desolate urban setting before him with his precision binoculars, Major Josiah Daniels issued orders into a wireless handset, “Greens 2 and 4 sector 1, Greens 3 and 1 sector 3, Green 6 back eyes. Move.” Greens was the codename given to an elite special operations unit in the US Army trained to scout and eliminate critical and scattered enemy combatants in an urban setting. Their present coverage area: eastern Baghdad, Iraq.                                 

“The eternal God [is thy] refuge, and underneath [are] the everlasting arms: and he shall thrust out the enemy from before thee; and shall say, Destroy [them],” Josiah whispered the passage from The Bible to himself.

For a couple of hours, Josiah and his team prowled their coverage section until they were replaced by their backup counterparts. As usual, he sat silently in the Humvee on their way back to the base. He was a disciplined man notorious at mentally strategically evaluating the current day's events, and planning the day ahead of him ever ready to serve SOCOM (Special Operations Command), God, and his country.

As he thought to retire for the day, he wrote a letter to his wife:

February 14^th, 2004

Dear Maria,

I am doing well and with all my heart wish the same for you. It is February 14^th, today, and if I were in Wakefield, would take you out to Ruth and Chris's in Virginia Beach for dinner. Happy Valentine's Day, my love. Not that I am complaining, but I sure can use a good steak dinner. I have received a picture of Jeremiah that you had sent me. He is teething. Our baby is growing up. I miss my boy.

Me and the boys, here, are doing alright. I have some bright young men working with me, and our mission is going well. By God, we will prevail, bring peace and democracy to the world, and bring an end to all evil. Please pray for us ..........

Here's hoping mom and pop are doing well.

I will see you in my dreams, sweetheart.

Josiah

“And out of the ground made the Lord God to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight, and good for food; the tree of life also in the midst of the garden, and the tree of knowledge of good and evil,” he whispered before drifting off to sleep.

Only Josiah and officers like him knew the truth. Insecure communications protocols, IEDs (Improvised Explosive Devices), and countless urban ambushes, among other matters, were taking a heavy toll on the lives of men of US led forces. He was nevertheless proud to have been serving in the army and was firm in his conviction that his presence in Iraq was for the greater good of humanity.

Badr Khalq was awaken by the squeal of a rat in the downtrodden building he had rested for the night. Being a pious man, he could feel the onslaught of 'fajr' by the smell of freshness in the air. He prayed 'fajr' after making ablution. Before leaving his quarter, masked and carrying his rifle, he bid farewell to his fellow fighters before they left to fight the forces who invaded their country.

“Wherewith Allah guideth all who seek His good pleasure to ways of peace and safety, and leadeth them out of darkness, by His will, unto the light,- guideth them to a path that is straight,” Badr whispered this Quranic verse to himself.

In the silence of fledgling twilight, Badr and his band scurried off like scattered ants to man adjacent ruins at a secluded corner in eastern Baghdad. And they awaited, in silence.

“Nay, but if you are patient in adversity and conscious of Him, and the enemy should fall upon you of a sudden, your Sustainer will aid you with five thousand angels swooping down!"” Badr recited.

The monotony of the big in-line 10-cylinder engine was disturbed when the body of Josiah's Humvee was rattled with bullets from 7 mm rifles at short range. He looked around in confusing rush but could not see anyone, anywhere. Two of Josiah's men died in their seats before they could react. “Ghosts,” he yelled, “Disperse.” His men scattered to take cover at corners of buildings nearest to them. Josiah's movements felt irregular to him until he realized that he had been shot in the shoulder close to the neck, besides pulling his dying driver, a private, to safety.

The random bullets came pounding from pale buildings and the shining sun made it no easier for Josiah and his team. Two hours later, with ensuing fighting, three more of his men had died, including four members of Badr's team. As his team ran out of ammunition, they surrendered, and as Josiah started to lose consciousness from losing excessive blood, he saw the bearded face of a handsome man approach him.

The last thing Daniels' heard, in Arabic, before he lost consciousness: “God does not burden any human being with more than he is well able to bear: in his favour shall be whatever good he does, and against him whatever evil he does. O our Sustainer! Take us not to task if we forget or unwittingly do wrong! "O our Sustainer! Lay not upon us a burden such as Thou didst lay upon those who lived before us! O our Sustainer! Make us not bear burdens which we have no strength to bear! "And efface Thou our sins, and grant us forgiveness, and bestow Thy mercy upon us! Thou art our Lord Supreme: succour us, then, against people who deny the truth!"

“Assalamu Alaikum Wa Rahmatullahi Wa Barakatuh (May Peace, Blessings, and (God's) Mercy be upon you),” announced a voice as Josiah started to regain consciousness. It belonged to the same person whom he heard before he fainted.

Unsure of the intentions of the person who now faced him, Josiah silently recited, “Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the Lord thy God, he [it is] that doth go with thee; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.”

Seeing a smile on the face of the person who stood in front of him, Josiah said, “Hello!”

“Why are you here in Iraq?” asked Badr.

Feeling physically and emotionally week, sensing the aura of potential death, something in Josiah gradually started to break lose. Nevertheless, only courage and love for God and his family held him together.

“Because the world must be purged of evil.”

A long silence followed.

“You are a brave man. Have you seen evil, here?”

Josiah recalled the warm hospitality of the civilians, most of them, he had the chance to meet.

“No,” he answered.

“Then why are you here?”

Daniels started to lapse in depth of obscure thought, pondering, feeling the life drained out of him, in delayed moments. He did not answer.

Badr started to leave and Josiah noticed that his wound was dressed and there was food besides the bed he rested on.

“Where are the others?” he murmured.

Badr turned and with a stern yet compassionate tone said, “They are safe.”

Josiah started to lose consciousness until he drifted into slumber.

“Why are you here?” Josiah heard again when he awoke.

Josiah regained his composure, a sense of realization of his location.

“Because I was ordered to by my command.”

“I suppose they did not tell you that you will invade a country that has done your country no wrong? We are humans just like you. You invaded our country, stole billions of dollars worth of oil from us, killed our elders, women, children, destroyed our schools and mosques with your bombs, left permanent marks on our childrens' psyche. I suppose they did not tell you all this when they ordered you to come here with your tanks, guns, bombs?”

Josiah had never known any other way but to tell the truth. He did not know if each of Badr's allegations were true, nevertheless the gist was on the mark, as realization from two days in captivity had assured him.

“No, they did not.”

Silence propagated which made insignificant but muffled noises seem noticeable. Josiah, with a semi-numb mind, found no words to answer and shut his eyelids. After what seemed like a few hours, Badr's voice broke the silence.

“You and your team are our guests until you all feel better. Our religion does not teach us to harm our prisoners. Our religion does not advocate violence unless it is first thrusted upon us. Your guns are missing, but your communications equipment is here. There is enough food for you and your team. We can not stay here any longer, but you are free to leave anytime. May Allah be with you.”

Josiah had heard from various media sources about innocent civilians being murdered by 'insurgents'. But what he had just heard did not fully register in his head as he was sure he would die, being a direct aggressor in the eyes of his captors.

Over the course of what seemed like many hours, Josiah repeatedly kept wondering,” Why? Why were we sent to attack these people who have not done anything wrong to us? Oh God, tell me, why? We stand for freedom, justice, honor and for carrying out your will. The bald eagle clutches the olive branch in its right claw. Why did we attack a nation whose people demonstrate the awakening spirit of hospitality? Living here for this past, by the calm desert sunsets, by certain quiet nights, I have felt your presence here. Why was I sent here? We have become victims of our own ignorance and arrogance. We did spawn injustice, here. Help us, have mercy on us.”

As Josiah started to lose consciousness, again, for weekness had started to take its toll, he whispered, “And he said, Blessed [be] the Lord God of my master Abraham, who hath not left destitute my master of his mercy and his truth: I [being] in the way, the Lord led me to the house of my master's brethren."

Epiphany at Dusk

Looking at a bent shaft

of interlaced colors,

Above the translucent

horizon;

this quaint, lucid

median;

Enthralled,

"Breathe me in," I ask.

Pondering over this

feeling of insignificance,

Only my reflection

is truly aware that I exist.

Like any pebble by this

ocean's shore,

nameless and faceless;

in ecstatic awe;

hopelessly losing myself in

fading eddies.

The Jihadist

One feels very insignificant surrounded by these majestic mountains of Swat Valley,

in the North-West Frontier Province of Pakistan. With their snow capped peaks, the

sun rays filter through cotton clouds and reflect over them creating a soft shimmer.

This is the home of Lajbur Khan, the abode of the proud Pashtuns who have lived

here as children of these rugged conditions for centuries. Beyond the River Swat, there

is no official road so people either travel by foot or in Land Cruiser II jeeps over

narrow gravel pathways.

He would sometimes sit by the River, listening to the stream beat gently against the

rocks and watching the soft sunlight reflected from the water would soothe him. Gazing at

the fish swim underwater, as if they were gliding in vacuum freely in slow motion, he would then

sit lazily, half dreaming, and wonder if heaven could be any different.

The carefree 15-years-old Lajbur lived with his mother and father about a kilometre west of the River. Everyday his father and him hiked to the River over narrow mountainous paths

to work at a tourist lodge by the stream.

While Lajbur's father, Badshah Khan, would tend to the lodge, Lajbur would go to the

River and catch fresh trout for the tourists. The tourism business saw a significant

decline ever since the Taliban were engaged by the Pakistani Army and reports began

channelling-in of a war in northern Waziristan and of bomb blasts elsewhere in the

country killing many people.

His family were considering to send him to the nearby Mingora City to live and

work with his uncle at a shoe factory there where he would get paid better and also

might get an opportunity to go to school.

In line with the Islamic culture, he was indoctrinated from an early age with the

belief that "heaven lies underneath the feet of one's mother;" that one has to serve

his mother with utmost compassion and devotion to earn God's favor.

Every night, upon returning home from work, he would massage his mother's feet and

tend to her requests to run errands around their neighborhood. Once his mother

sprained her ankle by tipping over a stray stone while walking. That night she moaned

with excruciating pain and he sat by her all night comforting her and rubbing her

feet, tears of helplessness flowing down his cheek.

Teary eyed, he kept whispering, "Ya Allah Tu Bakhshi" (Dear God, have mercy on us).

In the Spring, word came via a passing caravan that Lajbur and his family were invited to

a wedding on the outskirts of northern Waziristan. Since the tribal bond of affection for

the Pashtuns is a deed next to godliness, they were bound to attend this event.

When Lajbur broke the news to his mother, her face radiated a smile. At this sight,

Lajbur wondered, "Perhaps this is what angels look like." As he did every night,

this night, too, he rested his head in his mother's lap before going to bed, he

said, "I will go to Mingora tomorrow and buy you a dress for the wedding." His

mother dutifully kept massaging his scalp until he drifted off into peaceful slumber.

A Pashtun wedding is a marvellous event where the women wear colorful embroidered

dresses that are local to the tribal areas, and sing wedding songs in the Pashto language.

The men demonstrate their joy by heartily embracing their guests, roasting plenty of meat

for the occasion and firing numerous rounds of ammunition into the air.

The sound of gunfire kept getting louder and louder as Lajbur and his family approached

the venue of the wedding. All he could think of at this instance was how he would meet his

cousins and friends and catch up on the lost time and how great will this occasion be

when all of a sudden there was an explosion and over the next few seconds Lajbur

found himself unable to talk or move and gradually started to lose consciousness

until his surroundings slowly became dark and quiet.

Lajbur awoke in his uncle's home to find himself with a dislocated shoulder, a fractured

arm bone and numerous scratches on his face as a result of a shattered jeep window.

He was first told that it was God who created all that existed and that everything must

one day return to its Creator. And that all that happens, happens for the best.

Next he was told that a bomb had hit a jeep travelling behind their jeep, and that

his mother and aunt died in the explosion since they were both sitting in the back seat.

His uncle kept on talking, but by this time Lajbur's mind had went blank and all he could

see were figures of men standing there and mouths moving with no purpose or consequence.

The news next day revealed that an American drone aircraft targeted a suspected militant

caravan and which also resulted in a few civilian deaths. The Interior Minister demonstrated

his joy on TV and rattled-on about how evil was closer to being eradicated.

Lajbur watched the news and wondered what his mother did to deserve this. "Who would

want to kill an angel, someone who never even killed an ant?" he thought. As weeks

went by, he continuously felt empty from within. He started to work, but did not want to

go home after work. His behavioral pattern began to alter and he became excessively

hostile, fighting with his father over menial matters like talking to his friends a little loudly.

The vacuousness he felt after the death of his mother resulted in him feeling escalating

emotional pain, but over time this pain gradually replaced numbness and bitterness.

He never saw anything beautiful, he never felt joy, every time he heard laughter he felt

his brain being poisoned; he found nothing to live for, nothing to look forward to.

One day, he got into a fight with the lodge owner's son and beat him unconscious for

which the lodge owner wanted to have him beaten up. At this, Badshah Khan

begged the lodge owner, Aliyar Khan, for mercy and agreed as a condition to send Lajbur

away from Swat.

Lajbur arrived at Peshawar and was received by his cousin who took him

to a small house near the famous Namak Mandi neighborhood. They, being close, shared heartfelt moments talking about the past and eventually about the events leading to the death of Lajbur's mother. His cousin promised to take Lajbur to meet a learned man who could help Lajbur cope with his grief.

The next day they arrived at a house in the old part of town and met with Riasat Zaman,

who seemed like a very caring, sincere and pious man. He expressed his heartfelt

sorrow at the demise of Lajbur's mother and reminded him of the pain he felt.

"There is nothing precious than one's mother on Earth. The only force that can take your

precious mother away is evil. I have lost a brother to the atrocity of this evil and I know

from experience how you feel. I can feel your pain. For the sake of prevalence of good,

for the sake of my brother, for the sake of your mother, for the sake of every innocent

person killed I have decided to fight evil and want you to join me in my righteous

fight, our Jihad against the infidels." He said.

Since Lajbur had given up all hope of living, he pondered that the only purpose to his distraught life now was to avenge his mother's death.

Travelling by night through unknown territory, Lajbur arrived at a strange location amidst

mountains just in time for Fajr prayer offered by Muslims at dawn. After prayer, he met with

some men who greeted him very warmly and then he was directed to a quarter where he met other men who welcomed him with equal warmth. "Welcome home, brother. From today we are one. From today, you will start your duty to redeem yourself and to show your devotion to

God," one of them said.

After training for many months in mortal combat and how to handle explosives, he was

met with Riasat at the camp. "The time has come, dear brother. God has chosen for

you the time and place where you are needed. A week from now, you will present

yourself as sacrifice to attain God's mercy, to glorify Him, and to prove your love for your mother. I will be with you in my heart and will meet you again in 3 days as your companion

and guide, " he said.

At the camp, the only language he heard praised God and celebrated a holy war

against the West who had strayed off the right course. He was indoctrinated that

it was justified to kill the Americans and British and to their supporters and allies

to celebrate God's victory and that revenge was an act that was justified in Islam.

Lajbur felt proud that he was called to perform his duty to Islam, that the West was

evil and that the world must be purged of evil. "Paradise, my dear brother. Your

destiny is Paradise and your mother will meet you there," Riasat had said.

That day had come when he was dropped off close to an international bank, strapped

with 40 kilograms of high grade explosives to be triggered by an electrical switch. He

repeatedly kept thinking of his mother, her laughter, the way she massaged his scalp

every night before he fell asleep. "I am coming soon, mother. Oh! Allah, accept my sacrifice

for I seek to only glorify you. Help us all Muslims against the evil infidels. Amen." He

kept reciting silently in Pashto.

He was told to never hesitate and to press the trigger as soon as he entered the lobby

around the time of Asr (or mid-day) prayer as that is a sacred time, a time when prayers and

sacrifice is most likely to be accepted.

Before entering the bank, he passed by many people on the way. By this time, he was

so numb from within that he only saw bodies moving without meaning to what it meant

to be alive or to be human. No one meant anything to him, he thought, that he had

died a long time ago with his mother.

He passed the bank guard, emptily smiled at him and entered the bank. Ever resolute, he was walking toward the lobby silently reciting "Allahu Akbar"(God is Great). The main lobby lay next to a narrow corridor. As every Muslim should at the time of his death, now he started to recite the Kalima, the sacred declaration of Faith, "There is no God, but God. And

Muhammad is His messenger. There is no God, but God. And Muhammad is His messenger.

There is no God, but God. And Muhammad is His messenger."

Passing the corridor, he turned into the lobby to reach its center. Just as he turned

into the lobby, a beautiful little girl walked up to him and held his hand tightly and started to

giggle. He was completely taken aback and a few moments later, a woman walked

up to the girl and separated her hand from that of Lajbur saying, "No Safia, that is

not daddy." Safia was Lajbur's mother's name.

Lajbur with the distraught expression on his face of a man who is suddenly awoken from deep slumber kept staring at the little girl in confused and conflicting emotions of agony and love, who, sitting in her mother's lap, was still giggling at him and motioning a gesture of embrace at him. Something inside of Lajbur started to break lose, and he became increasingly uncomfortable. Something about the girl began to remind him of his mother.

He stood there for a while, and then started to make way for the entrance of the bank

to get out of there. Just as he turned back, he saw a group of army officers headed to the lobby to conduct a banking transaction. Lajbur turned back, again, walked to the center of the lobby and began to shiver noticeably and perspire. One hand on the trigger, he kept staring at the girl.

Just as he was about to press the detonator switch, he saw his mother sitting on

the prayer rug after Asr prayer and heard her voice reciting the Islamic supplication,

"Rabbana atina fid-dunya hasanatan wa fil 'akhirati hasanatan waqina 'adhaban-nar" (Our Lord! grant us good in this world and good in the hereafter, and save us from the chastisement of hell's fire).

He turned to the bank entrance, again, facing the army officers with his hand on the

switch and undergoing rapid perspiration. It was as if he was frozen, unable to

act, shivering uncontrollably. The army officers saw him in that state, and

immediately realized his intentions. "Don't," one of them commanded. But Lajbur's

hand was still on the trigger and he was blankly staring at the officers, befuddled.

Another one of them recited a verse from the Quran, "If you kill one person unjustly, it is as if you killed the whole humanity, and if you saved one person it is as if you saved the whole humanity."

Lajbur did not budge, his hand still on the trigger but unable to press it. After

many months of rigorous indoctrination by terrorists, he was brainwashed to the point

that he believed that he was doing a righteous deed. But the brief encounter with the little Safia, challenged everything he knew and stood for.

He began questioning himself that Islam was perhaps at odds with itself, that perhaps

nothing was real, that there were perhaps no consequences, that no one was accountable for anything. That when we die, everything ends. That people like Riasat Zaman existed to manipulate the innocent minds of distraught young people into serving their evil, destructive agendas.

The only truly real thing, however, he thought, was his mother and how she loved him.

Thinking this he started to cry, perspiring, hand still on the trigger. All of a sudden, there was an explosion. A bank guard shot Lajbur in the neck from behind from point blank range and he fell on the floor, gasping like a fish out of water.

As he lay bleeding, from the corner of his eye he saw the little girl Safia as he breathed his last breaths who looked at him. A smile emerged on his face and he motioned a gesture of embrace at her before his vision started to dim into grayness. His last words, before his vision went totally blank were, "Ya Allah Tu Bakhshi."