| |
By Farnaz Fassihi, Staff Reporter of The Wall Street Journal
THE FIGHT FOR IRAQ, The Wall Street Journal
New York, New York, February 11, 2004
|
BAGHDAD, Iraq -- As the American-led coalition prepares to hand over
political sovereignty to Iraqis by July, and coalition forces struggle to
bring security to the country, many say that psychological healing is just
as important for this nation's future stability.
One of the ways ordinary Iraqis are seeking to cope can be seen in the
flurry of efforts to collect evidence of alleged atrocities by the
government of former leader Saddam Hussein.
Mohammed Msyir started secretly sketching scenes of atrocities after Mr.
Hussein's government crushed a 1991 Shiite Muslim uprising by executing
thousands of people. Neither he nor his family members were persecuted,
and he never believed the regime would fall. But, he says, the need to
record the truth overwhelmed him.
|
|
"I felt responsible to leave something for future generations that would
tell them about Saddam's crimes," says Mr. Msyir, 40 years old. His
paintings, 15 huge oil canvases in his Baghdad studio, are haunting images
of skeletons and human remains huddled together or scattered on piles of
earth. Behind nearly every picture is a story the artist says he either
witnessed or heard from a friend, a relative, a cab driver or a passerby.
In the days and weeks following the fall of Baghdad last spring, ordinary
Iraqis flocked to official buildings, prisons and neighborhood headquarters
of the ruling Baath Party, collecting documents against Mr. Hussein's
regime. Some searched for missing loved ones. Others sought vengeance.
But for many, the mad dash to collect tangible proof was simply a way to
cope.
"This process is therapeutic. When we look at the mass graves or at the
files ordering executions we feel ashamed for our country, we feel ashamed
for the innocent people who lost their lives but more importantly, we feel
the need to bring the people responsible to justice," says Ibrahim
al-Idrisi, the founder and president of Association of Free Prisoners.
Nearly a year later, almost every city in Iraq -- no matter how large or
small -- has a building marked by a sign that reads, "Iraqi Human Rights
Organization," or "Association of Free Prisoners," grass-roots organizations
formed to track down missing people and collect evidence against the regime.
Mr. Msyir hopes his paintings -- impressionistic as they are -- will
contribute to the effort to prosecute Mr. Hussein under a war-crimes
tribunal set up in December by the Iraqi Governing Council.
Mr. Msyir stood in front of his paintings one recent morning in Baghdad,
relating the tale behind each one. One painting shows a mother crouching
over her six-year-old child, the child's arms wrapped around her waist, as
they were executed. The child ran after his father when the soldiers took
him, says Mr. Msyir. The mother ran after the child, grabbing him. The
soldiers shot them. Their bones were found huddled together in a mass
grave in May, Mr. Msyir says.
Another painting is of a handicapped man. Relatives found his crutch next
to his bones. Still, another is of a doctor and his wife. The fingertips of
their skeleton hands are touching, just as they were when gunned to the
ground, according to Mr. Msyir.
Collectively, the paintings tell the story of Iraq's mass graves, where
human-rights activists estimate some 290,000 civilian Iraqis -- mostly
Shiite Muslims and ethnic Kurds -- were executed and buried. So far, 250
mass grave sites have been reported in Iraq, of which 40 have been
confirmed by authorities.
Mr. Msyir, a Shiite Muslim and a native of Basra, where some of the mass
graves are located, began painting about atrocities one day in 1991 when he
noticed the dirt in a barren field near his home was disrupted. A shopkeeper
in the neighborhood told him that Mr. Hussein's agents had buried hundreds
of people one recent night. The locals all knew who was missing, and several
told Mr. Msyir their stories.
He recalls wanting to shout, to scream and tell the world what was happening
in Iraq. But he couldn't. He couldn't even share with his wife the stories
he had heard for fear of being persecuted himself. Instead, he started
sketching. He kept the sketches vague and abstract. He told no one what
inspired him to draw so many grim, depressing scenes of death.
In 2002, Mr. Msyir entered one of his canvases, depicting two skeletons
huddled together in a pile of dirt, as a candidate for a group exhibition at
the Saddam Art Center in Baghdad. When he was asked what message the
painting carried, he said it related scenes from war crimes in Cambodia. The
real subject matter, he says, "was between me and my God."
Beyond seeing his paintings used in a trial of Mr. Hussein, Mr. Msyir hopes
they will be eventually displayed in a museum. "Now, it's for the world to
see," he says.
Write to Farnaz Fassihi at farnaz.fassihi@wsj.com
The Wall Street Journal, NY, NY, February 11, 2004
FOR PERSONAL AND ACADEMIC USE ONLY
EDITOR: The above article presents a very interesting, wonderful story
about "political art" from a brave man in Iraq. This man is similar to the
artists the www.ArtUkraine.com Information Service (ARTUIS) has
been searching diligently for in Ukraine for the past six years and are
still
looking for today. We are looking for artists who have been willing to
create artwork of any type about the "Crimes of Communism Against
Ukraine and Her People." You can see some of the results of our work
in the left hand column of the Genocide Gallery on this website.
If you can be of any assistance to us in our search for such artists and
artwork please contact us, ArtUkraine.com@starpower.net. Thanks.
|
|
back
