* Any views expressed in this opinion piece are those of the author and not of Thomson Reuters Foundation.
By Mishkat Al Moumin
Iraqi attorney and activist
Since, I was six years old, my mother used to remind me everyday that I should not share anything I hear at home with any friend at school. My entire family (including my extended family) was not supportive of Saddam’s regime. Thus, in all family gatherings the regime was criticized heavily. Criticizing Saddam’s regime even in private was a dangerous business, often resulting in arrest, torture and death of those did it. Often my family used to ask me to play outside the house and check if the level of their discussion[1] was too loud. I had to notify them using a previously agreed upon signal. My signal was that I would call for my Mom. Of course, there were times when I called for my Mom, because I truly needed her help causing the vibrant discussion to quiet down[2].
Thus, each day before going to school, my Mom would give me a big hug, my sandwich, and a quick reminder that I should keep my mouth shut no matter what. She used to run a quick test (just to be on the safe side), asking “If someone asked you do like the president, what would you say? If someone tries to get you to criticize the president what would you say?” I used to enjoy the warmth of my Mom’s hug, the smell ofthe delicious herbs and seasoning in my sandwich[3], and experience the fear of failing the test. I was not afraid of failing the test with my mother testing. I was afraid of failing the test in a real life scenario, when someone would ask me these questions. Failing the test could result in the killing of my entire family in the most savage way possible. Although, I was six-years-old, as an Iraqi I was required to prove that I was not a threat to Saddam’s regime. Here in the U.S. it may sound silly that a regime would feel threatened by a six-year-old and take her word seriously. However, back in Baghdad many people were brutally killed because one of their children said something.
The regime was highly insecure, persecuting people regardless of age, gender, or background. Thus, jokes, comments and sometimes even lack of comment would result in a slow and painful death. I will always remember Bushra, a nine- year-old girl in my elementary school. She was arrested because she was coloring with her crayons and she accidently colored the picture of the president placed on her copybook. (The picture of president was on all books, copybooks, coloring books, classrooms…etc.).
To cheer myself up, I use to remind myself that the regime could not control my thoughts and my dreams. I used to think and dream about a free world, where people could say their opinions in public. I started looking for this world to see if it really exists. I was too young to do so. Perhaps, but, I never felt like a child.
When, I asked my father if such a world existed, he pointed to our library. I read all the books that I could find in our library including the Social Contract, Animal Farm, the Panchatantra or Kalila Wa Dimna, ( an animal fable) and many more. My quest for a world where human rights were respected altr shaped my career. I went to law school and graduated as an attorney representing women and workers. I represented the weak and the vulnerable to give them a legal tool to claim their rights. I taught human rights under Saddam’s regime drawing from the methods described in the Panchatantra. Thus, I labeled the violations of human rights in Iraqi prisons similar to the violations committed in South Africa under the apartheid regime. The students were able to connect the dots. In the exam, I asked the question “Do you believe in human rights?” Some would say yes, but the majority would say no. However, each time one of my students expressed their belief in human rights, I felt empowered.
I continued to support the weak and vulnerable even after the fall of Saddam’s regime. As the first Minister of Environment from 2004-2005, I launched campaigns to distribute safe drinking water to communities that lacked access to it. Thirsty people were willing to do anything to gain access to safe drinking water, including joining the insurgency.
Supporting the weak and vulnerable resulted in an attempt on my life. Immediately following the first campaign, I survived a suicide bomb attack, for which Al Zarqawi, the leader of Al Qaeda in Iraq, claimed full responsibility and vowed that “his arrow would not miss me next time.”
My reply was launching another campaign to educate people to manage their resources.
These experiences led me to found the Women and the Environment Organization (WATEO) to empower women within their environment.
I felt many Iraqis were looking for a better world where their rights were respected. I was not alone. For example, my trusted friends and family members used to distribute and exchange anti-regime books. This distribution was done on a small-scale. The store where we would copy these books, articles, and poems refused to charge us any money. The owner laughed and said, “It is for the cause.” A friend was stopped by the police for speeding while carrying “two books” in his trunk. He paid the fine, and though terrified that someone would check his trunk, no one bothered. It is true the distribution of these books was very limited and exclusive to trusted friends and family members, but it was all that we could manage back then.
When I look back now, I feel these difficult experiences made me stronger. I learned the hard way, but I learned that even a small act of resistance could make a difference. It can make you feel powerful rather than hopeless.
I also feel that I have a lot to share with people around the world. Thus, I created my blog True Stories about Security.
I am hoping that my blog will shed a light on variables that are often neglected in managing security. However, these variables are crucial in achieving security in countries like Iraq, Afghanistan, and Iran.
About the author:
The former minister of the environment in the interim Iraqi government and current Futrell Visiting Scholar at the Environmental Law Institute, Mishkat Al Moumin is a well-known Iraqi lawyer, and a lecturer of human rights in the University of Baghdad’s College of Law. Since Iraq did not previously have a ministry of the environment, Dr. Al Moumin designed its entire structure. In this post, she also developed new environmental law, led campaigns to support Iraqi people living in environmentally dangerous areas, and initiated awareness and cleaning projects. Prior to joining the government, she served as the women’s issues director for the Free Iraq Foundation, where she successfully advocated for women to hold 25 percent of the seats in the new Iraqi parliament. In this role, she also conducted trainings for NGOs and women leaders. In 2004, Dr. Al Moumin worked with the International Federation of Election System as an adviser on the elections in Iraq. As a practicing member of the Iraqi Bar Association, Dr. Al Moumin represented clients in cases concerning personal status and labor. Dr. Al Moumin was a lecturer at University of Baghdad College of Law, where she lectured human rights, fundamental rights, international and constitutional law. She has participated as a speaker and facilitator at several conferences on women’s issues in Iraq. Dr. Al Moumin, a scholar at the Middle East Institute in Washington, DC, recently graduated as a Mason fellow at the John F. Kennedy School of Government at Harvard University, where she earned a master’s degree in public administration. She took courses related to environmental justice, gender, civil society, and human rights. Dr. Al Moumin already has a master’s degree and a PhD in public international law from the University of Baghdad. She has published articles in various Arabic newspapers on environmental developments and women’s roles in public life. She has also authored articles on international law and international justice in a number of legal journals. Finally she is the founder and director of Women and Environment Organization that operates in Iraq; and a member of the board of directors in the PATH organization, an international, non-profit organization that creates sustainable, culturally relevant solutions, enabling communities worldwide to break longstanding cycles of poor health. She is also a member of the Institute for Inclusive Security.
[1] These discussions were the first step in my education. I learned how to argue, defend my point of view, and rebottle.
[2] Family members used to blame gently for interrupting the discussion. After all they needed my service and I was good at it.
[3] The smell of my mother seasoning inspired me to learn and enjoy cooking.
