a statement. The tribesmen nodded slowly; the place was silent but for the click , click , click of prayer beads.
An old man at the end of the hall struggled to his feet and shuffled toward Sheikh Majid. His weak voice was barely audible. “My sheikh, there is something we must discuss.”
Sheikh Majid covered his heart with his right hand in a gesture of respect. “Please, Tariq, tell us this matter.”
Tariq stopped next to Abdullah and did his best to raise his voice. “The Douri tribe lives near my farm. Every so often my granddaughter will buy chickens from them, and yesterday—”
Abdullah placed a hand on Tariq’s bony shoulder. “Tariq, if this is some small dispute, we can settle it at another time. The crusader curfew is approaching.”
Tariq did his best to shrug off Abdullah’s touch. He craned his neck to look Abdullah in the eyes and cried, “You must listen!” Abdullah took a half step back, shocked at the old man’s passion.
Tariq turned to Sheikh Majid. “My granddaughter tells me that Hamsa, one of al-Qaida’s emirs , snatched one of the Douri tribe’s girls off the street and brought her to their house near the old police station. He raped the girl.” Tariq’s voice creaked as tears squeezed from his eyes. “He raped her…Before he let her go, he gave her a letter.” Tariq stuffed his hand into a pocket and pulled out an envelope, then proffered it to Abdullah.
“I don’t read, my sheikh, but my granddaughter does.” Tariq’s liver-spotted hand shook as he struggled to keep the skeletal arm in the air. Majid nodded to Abdullah, who opened the envelope and read the piece of paper it contained. “Al-Qaeda said that the girl gave her virginity to a prince of al-Qaeda, and because of this gift, she is still worthy of marriage.” The assemblage broke into curses and angry whispers.
Abdullah lowered the letter and nodded. “That’s what the letter says.”
“The Douri tribe is weak, but this shame is too much for their honor. They can’t fight al-Qaeda to avenge the girl. Too many of their men were killed by the Americans or are sitting in their jails. What could they do to keep their honor?” Tariq lifted a crooked finger and passed it over the sitting men. “They killed the raped girl to save their honor.”
The revelation was met not with outrage but with silence. “They could not kill Abu Hamsa, so the girl had to die. Since al-Qaeda came to Iraq, they have taken more and more from the Iraqis. We welcomed them as guests to fight the Americans. We let them enforce Islamic law in Rasheed, let them collect taxes at the Rasheed market. They let filthy Syrians and Jordanians mediate disputes between the tribes.” Spit flew from yellow teeth as Tariq rattled in fury. “Now they rape the women of the Douri tribe. When will they come for our women?”
Abu Ahmet stood and took Tariq’s hand. He gingerly turned Tariq away from Sheikh Majid. “Brothers, we fight beside al-Qaeda against the crusaders. They are our allies, and they will never insult us as they did the Douris. The Douri tribe is weak. Let them stay weak, and we will take their land when they flee back to Baghdad. Don’t forget that Saddam gave them our land during the war with Iran. Our land! To hell with the Douris!”
Guttural cheers met Abu Ahmet’s curse.
Sheikh Majid raised his voice. “Thank you, Tariq. The death of the girl is regrettable but not our concern.” He stood and pulled the slack of his robe into his hand. He glanced out the window as twilight grew on the horizon. “Return home. The crusaders will arrest anyone they find on the street after dark. Remember, we had no involvement in the kidnapping.”
Abdullah watched in silence as Theeb and several of the younger fighting men coalesced around Abu Ahmet, who gave them whispered and terse instructions. Older men of the tribe fawned over Majid, no doubt asking for the tribe’s money and influence in more petty matters.
No one
An old man at the end of the hall struggled to his feet and shuffled toward Sheikh Majid. His weak voice was barely audible. “My sheikh, there is something we must discuss.”
Sheikh Majid covered his heart with his right hand in a gesture of respect. “Please, Tariq, tell us this matter.”
Tariq stopped next to Abdullah and did his best to raise his voice. “The Douri tribe lives near my farm. Every so often my granddaughter will buy chickens from them, and yesterday—”
Abdullah placed a hand on Tariq’s bony shoulder. “Tariq, if this is some small dispute, we can settle it at another time. The crusader curfew is approaching.”
Tariq did his best to shrug off Abdullah’s touch. He craned his neck to look Abdullah in the eyes and cried, “You must listen!” Abdullah took a half step back, shocked at the old man’s passion.
Tariq turned to Sheikh Majid. “My granddaughter tells me that Hamsa, one of al-Qaida’s emirs , snatched one of the Douri tribe’s girls off the street and brought her to their house near the old police station. He raped the girl.” Tariq’s voice creaked as tears squeezed from his eyes. “He raped her…Before he let her go, he gave her a letter.” Tariq stuffed his hand into a pocket and pulled out an envelope, then proffered it to Abdullah.
“I don’t read, my sheikh, but my granddaughter does.” Tariq’s liver-spotted hand shook as he struggled to keep the skeletal arm in the air. Majid nodded to Abdullah, who opened the envelope and read the piece of paper it contained. “Al-Qaeda said that the girl gave her virginity to a prince of al-Qaeda, and because of this gift, she is still worthy of marriage.” The assemblage broke into curses and angry whispers.
Abdullah lowered the letter and nodded. “That’s what the letter says.”
“The Douri tribe is weak, but this shame is too much for their honor. They can’t fight al-Qaeda to avenge the girl. Too many of their men were killed by the Americans or are sitting in their jails. What could they do to keep their honor?” Tariq lifted a crooked finger and passed it over the sitting men. “They killed the raped girl to save their honor.”
The revelation was met not with outrage but with silence. “They could not kill Abu Hamsa, so the girl had to die. Since al-Qaeda came to Iraq, they have taken more and more from the Iraqis. We welcomed them as guests to fight the Americans. We let them enforce Islamic law in Rasheed, let them collect taxes at the Rasheed market. They let filthy Syrians and Jordanians mediate disputes between the tribes.” Spit flew from yellow teeth as Tariq rattled in fury. “Now they rape the women of the Douri tribe. When will they come for our women?”
Abu Ahmet stood and took Tariq’s hand. He gingerly turned Tariq away from Sheikh Majid. “Brothers, we fight beside al-Qaeda against the crusaders. They are our allies, and they will never insult us as they did the Douris. The Douri tribe is weak. Let them stay weak, and we will take their land when they flee back to Baghdad. Don’t forget that Saddam gave them our land during the war with Iran. Our land! To hell with the Douris!”
Guttural cheers met Abu Ahmet’s curse.
Sheikh Majid raised his voice. “Thank you, Tariq. The death of the girl is regrettable but not our concern.” He stood and pulled the slack of his robe into his hand. He glanced out the window as twilight grew on the horizon. “Return home. The crusaders will arrest anyone they find on the street after dark. Remember, we had no involvement in the kidnapping.”
Abdullah watched in silence as Theeb and several of the younger fighting men coalesced around Abu Ahmet, who gave them whispered and terse instructions. Older men of the tribe fawned over Majid, no doubt asking for the tribe’s money and influence in more petty matters.
No one
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