After Saddam, the Iraqi Marsh Arabs, their lives and traditions violated by Saddam, enjoy the benefits of America’s liberation:
The marsh has once again assumed its omnipresent role in the village. Women clad in black head-to-toe abayas wade into the water to wash clothes. The mullet found in the murky depths, though small and bony, is grilled for dinner every night. Swamp grasses are cut to feed the cows and sheep that will eventually be traded for water buffalo.
“Everyone is so happy,” Kerkush said as he watched his son stand in a mashoof and steer it like a gondolier with a long wooden pole. “We are starting to live like we used to, not the way Saddam wanted us to live.”
How can you not be moved by such a story? How can you not be proud of what we have done?
The Dish 