Monday, January 31, 2005

I Am Iraq's Democracy

I was born from the barrel of a gun. Not the guns of the people who actually use me, the guns of foreigners. I am the only chance the people here have for survival. The guns will fire more fiercely if I do not take hold here. I am young, weak, and disorganized. I took my first step recently, but I had to be propped up, not by the people, but by the foreigners. By the guns. I am not wanted by everyone. My neighbors abhor me. The same neighbors that my foreign supporters also support. Is the friend of my enemy my enemy? I exist on life-support, I must become stronger to survive on my own. If I become strong and flourish, will the people who created me still like me? Will they find me useful if the opinions I facilitate do not agree with my creators, the guys with guns. If the resources of my country are not used in the manner the guns want, will I survive? Will my existence create better relations with my neighbor Iran? Are the guys with guns going to build another one of me there? What about Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, Egypt? Are the seeds of my destruction already planted within? Will the people who live here and have vast differences of opinion use me to settle those differences? Or will they use the guns?

I am Iraqs democracy.


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