SUBSCRIBE TO OUR FREE NEWSLETTER
Daily news & progressive opinion—funded by the people, not the corporations—delivered straight to your inbox.
5
#000000
#FFFFFF
To donate by check, phone, or other method, see our More Ways to Give page.
Daily news & progressive opinion—funded by the people, not the corporations—delivered straight to your inbox.
If you haven't thought about the Iraq war as
a story of U.S. allies systematically torturing and executing
women, you're not alone. Likewise if you were under the impression
that Iraqi women were somehow better off under their new,
U.S.-sponsored government.
In the spring of 2003, Fatin was a student of architecture at
Baghdad University. Her days were filled with classes and hanging
out in her favorite of Baghdad's many cafes, where she and her
friends studied, shared music, and spun big plans for successful
careers, happy marriages, and eventually kids.
Today, Fatin says that those feel like someone else's dreams.
Soon after the U.S. invasion, Fatin began seeing groups of bearded
young Iraqi men patrolling the streets of Baghdad. They were
looking for women like her, who wore modern clothes or were heading
to professional jobs. The men screamed terrible insults at the
women and sometimes beat them.
By the fall, ordinary aspects of Fatin's life had become punishable
by death. The "misery gangs," as Fatin calls them, were routinely
killing women for wearing pants, appearing in public without a
headscarf, or shaking hands and socializing with men.
As the occupying power, the U.S. was legally obligated to stop
these attacks. But the Pentagon, preoccupied with battling the
Iraqi insurgency, simply ignored the militias' reign of terror.
In fact, some of the most treacherous armed groups belonged to the
very political parties that the U.S. had brought to power. By 2005,
the Pentagon was giving weapons, money and military training to
these Shiite militias, in the hope that they would help combat the
Sunni-led insurgency.
Fatin's closest encounter with the militias occurred when armed men
burst into her university classroom one morning, threatening to
kill any female student without a head scarf. After that, young
women dropped out in droves. The next semester, Fatin's parents
refused to allow her to re-enroll.
While the Pentagon was arming militias bent on brutally ousting
Iraqi women from public life, the U.S. State Department was busy
brokering the new Iraqi Constitution. Hailed as "progressive" and
"democratic" in Washington, the new Constitution designates
religious law, which discriminates against women, as the basis of
all legislation. It also restricts women's rights by upending one
of the most progressive family status laws in the Middle East -- a
law that Iraqi women fought for and won in 1959, before Saddam
Hussein took power.
For Fatin, the bitter irony is that her new Constitution, courtesy
of the USA, destroyed women's rights that were once guaranteed in
Iraq, even under the brutal regime of Saddam Hussein.
Fatin has now been out of school and unemployed for more than three
years. Her mother, a pharmacist, and her aunt, trained as a
veterinarian, have also been unemployed for years now and are too
afraid to try to find work.
So what are Iraqi women saying on the sixth anniversary of the U.S.
invasion? The same thing they've been saying since 2003: End the
occupation. Polls consistently show that a majority of Iraqis want
U.S. troops out.
We've been told that if the U.S. withdraws, violence would again
soar in Iraq. That's a compelling argument for those of us who care
about the suffering that the U.S. has already visited on Iraqi
women and their families. But Iraqis themselves, who have the best
grasp of their security situation, say that U.S. troops are
causing, not confronting, violence. In multiple polls, most Iraqis
say they would feel much safer without U.S. troops.
Who can blame them? Since the invasion, over a million Iraqis have
died violently and 4 million have been driven from their homes. The
resources that women need to care for their families --
electricity, water, food, fuel, and medical care -- have become
dangerously scarce, sometimes totally unavailable.
Last week marked six years since the U.S. invaded Iraq. In that
time, women have not only faced mounting violence -- they have also
organized a movement to confront U.S. occupation and violence
against women.
Looking for a way to speak out against the repression she
witnessed, Fatin joined the Organization of Women's Freedom in Iraq
(OWFI). In partnership with MADRE, an international women's human
rights organization based in New York, OWFI has worked to promote
women's human rights, creating a network of women's shelters to
protect women fleeing violence.
The women of Iraq are creating the foundation on which a peaceful
and just future will be built. It's time we started listening to
them.
Dear Common Dreams reader, The U.S. is on a fast track to authoritarianism like nothing I've ever seen. Meanwhile, corporate news outlets are utterly capitulating to Trump, twisting their coverage to avoid drawing his ire while lining up to stuff cash in his pockets. That's why I believe that Common Dreams is doing the best and most consequential reporting that we've ever done. Our small but mighty team is a progressive reporting powerhouse, covering the news every day that the corporate media never will. Our mission has always been simple: To inform. To inspire. And to ignite change for the common good. Now here's the key piece that I want all our readers to understand: None of this would be possible without your financial support. That's not just some fundraising cliche. It's the absolute and literal truth. We don't accept corporate advertising and never will. We don't have a paywall because we don't think people should be blocked from critical news based on their ability to pay. Everything we do is funded by the donations of readers like you. Will you donate now to help power the nonprofit, independent reporting of Common Dreams? Thank you for being a vital member of our community. Together, we can keep independent journalism alive when it’s needed most. - Craig Brown, Co-founder |
If you haven't thought about the Iraq war as
a story of U.S. allies systematically torturing and executing
women, you're not alone. Likewise if you were under the impression
that Iraqi women were somehow better off under their new,
U.S.-sponsored government.
In the spring of 2003, Fatin was a student of architecture at
Baghdad University. Her days were filled with classes and hanging
out in her favorite of Baghdad's many cafes, where she and her
friends studied, shared music, and spun big plans for successful
careers, happy marriages, and eventually kids.
Today, Fatin says that those feel like someone else's dreams.
Soon after the U.S. invasion, Fatin began seeing groups of bearded
young Iraqi men patrolling the streets of Baghdad. They were
looking for women like her, who wore modern clothes or were heading
to professional jobs. The men screamed terrible insults at the
women and sometimes beat them.
By the fall, ordinary aspects of Fatin's life had become punishable
by death. The "misery gangs," as Fatin calls them, were routinely
killing women for wearing pants, appearing in public without a
headscarf, or shaking hands and socializing with men.
As the occupying power, the U.S. was legally obligated to stop
these attacks. But the Pentagon, preoccupied with battling the
Iraqi insurgency, simply ignored the militias' reign of terror.
In fact, some of the most treacherous armed groups belonged to the
very political parties that the U.S. had brought to power. By 2005,
the Pentagon was giving weapons, money and military training to
these Shiite militias, in the hope that they would help combat the
Sunni-led insurgency.
Fatin's closest encounter with the militias occurred when armed men
burst into her university classroom one morning, threatening to
kill any female student without a head scarf. After that, young
women dropped out in droves. The next semester, Fatin's parents
refused to allow her to re-enroll.
While the Pentagon was arming militias bent on brutally ousting
Iraqi women from public life, the U.S. State Department was busy
brokering the new Iraqi Constitution. Hailed as "progressive" and
"democratic" in Washington, the new Constitution designates
religious law, which discriminates against women, as the basis of
all legislation. It also restricts women's rights by upending one
of the most progressive family status laws in the Middle East -- a
law that Iraqi women fought for and won in 1959, before Saddam
Hussein took power.
For Fatin, the bitter irony is that her new Constitution, courtesy
of the USA, destroyed women's rights that were once guaranteed in
Iraq, even under the brutal regime of Saddam Hussein.
Fatin has now been out of school and unemployed for more than three
years. Her mother, a pharmacist, and her aunt, trained as a
veterinarian, have also been unemployed for years now and are too
afraid to try to find work.
So what are Iraqi women saying on the sixth anniversary of the U.S.
invasion? The same thing they've been saying since 2003: End the
occupation. Polls consistently show that a majority of Iraqis want
U.S. troops out.
We've been told that if the U.S. withdraws, violence would again
soar in Iraq. That's a compelling argument for those of us who care
about the suffering that the U.S. has already visited on Iraqi
women and their families. But Iraqis themselves, who have the best
grasp of their security situation, say that U.S. troops are
causing, not confronting, violence. In multiple polls, most Iraqis
say they would feel much safer without U.S. troops.
Who can blame them? Since the invasion, over a million Iraqis have
died violently and 4 million have been driven from their homes. The
resources that women need to care for their families --
electricity, water, food, fuel, and medical care -- have become
dangerously scarce, sometimes totally unavailable.
Last week marked six years since the U.S. invaded Iraq. In that
time, women have not only faced mounting violence -- they have also
organized a movement to confront U.S. occupation and violence
against women.
Looking for a way to speak out against the repression she
witnessed, Fatin joined the Organization of Women's Freedom in Iraq
(OWFI). In partnership with MADRE, an international women's human
rights organization based in New York, OWFI has worked to promote
women's human rights, creating a network of women's shelters to
protect women fleeing violence.
The women of Iraq are creating the foundation on which a peaceful
and just future will be built. It's time we started listening to
them.
If you haven't thought about the Iraq war as
a story of U.S. allies systematically torturing and executing
women, you're not alone. Likewise if you were under the impression
that Iraqi women were somehow better off under their new,
U.S.-sponsored government.
In the spring of 2003, Fatin was a student of architecture at
Baghdad University. Her days were filled with classes and hanging
out in her favorite of Baghdad's many cafes, where she and her
friends studied, shared music, and spun big plans for successful
careers, happy marriages, and eventually kids.
Today, Fatin says that those feel like someone else's dreams.
Soon after the U.S. invasion, Fatin began seeing groups of bearded
young Iraqi men patrolling the streets of Baghdad. They were
looking for women like her, who wore modern clothes or were heading
to professional jobs. The men screamed terrible insults at the
women and sometimes beat them.
By the fall, ordinary aspects of Fatin's life had become punishable
by death. The "misery gangs," as Fatin calls them, were routinely
killing women for wearing pants, appearing in public without a
headscarf, or shaking hands and socializing with men.
As the occupying power, the U.S. was legally obligated to stop
these attacks. But the Pentagon, preoccupied with battling the
Iraqi insurgency, simply ignored the militias' reign of terror.
In fact, some of the most treacherous armed groups belonged to the
very political parties that the U.S. had brought to power. By 2005,
the Pentagon was giving weapons, money and military training to
these Shiite militias, in the hope that they would help combat the
Sunni-led insurgency.
Fatin's closest encounter with the militias occurred when armed men
burst into her university classroom one morning, threatening to
kill any female student without a head scarf. After that, young
women dropped out in droves. The next semester, Fatin's parents
refused to allow her to re-enroll.
While the Pentagon was arming militias bent on brutally ousting
Iraqi women from public life, the U.S. State Department was busy
brokering the new Iraqi Constitution. Hailed as "progressive" and
"democratic" in Washington, the new Constitution designates
religious law, which discriminates against women, as the basis of
all legislation. It also restricts women's rights by upending one
of the most progressive family status laws in the Middle East -- a
law that Iraqi women fought for and won in 1959, before Saddam
Hussein took power.
For Fatin, the bitter irony is that her new Constitution, courtesy
of the USA, destroyed women's rights that were once guaranteed in
Iraq, even under the brutal regime of Saddam Hussein.
Fatin has now been out of school and unemployed for more than three
years. Her mother, a pharmacist, and her aunt, trained as a
veterinarian, have also been unemployed for years now and are too
afraid to try to find work.
So what are Iraqi women saying on the sixth anniversary of the U.S.
invasion? The same thing they've been saying since 2003: End the
occupation. Polls consistently show that a majority of Iraqis want
U.S. troops out.
We've been told that if the U.S. withdraws, violence would again
soar in Iraq. That's a compelling argument for those of us who care
about the suffering that the U.S. has already visited on Iraqi
women and their families. But Iraqis themselves, who have the best
grasp of their security situation, say that U.S. troops are
causing, not confronting, violence. In multiple polls, most Iraqis
say they would feel much safer without U.S. troops.
Who can blame them? Since the invasion, over a million Iraqis have
died violently and 4 million have been driven from their homes. The
resources that women need to care for their families --
electricity, water, food, fuel, and medical care -- have become
dangerously scarce, sometimes totally unavailable.
Last week marked six years since the U.S. invaded Iraq. In that
time, women have not only faced mounting violence -- they have also
organized a movement to confront U.S. occupation and violence
against women.
Looking for a way to speak out against the repression she
witnessed, Fatin joined the Organization of Women's Freedom in Iraq
(OWFI). In partnership with MADRE, an international women's human
rights organization based in New York, OWFI has worked to promote
women's human rights, creating a network of women's shelters to
protect women fleeing violence.
The women of Iraq are creating the foundation on which a peaceful
and just future will be built. It's time we started listening to
them.