It’s Hard Out Here for an Iraqi

FOR MORE THAN FOUR YEARS NOW, critics of the Bush administration have warned that the U.S. detention facility at Guantánamo Bay, Cuba, is fueling the Muslim street’s hatred of America. The purportedly unwarranted detention of hundreds of Muslims, coupled with the allegedly unjustified invasion of Iraq, these critics argue, will only add to the rage that leads to terrorist attacks.

Following this line of thinking, you might suppose that an Iraqi national at Gitmo would be especially angry. And thanks to the March 3 release of more than 5,000 pages of documents from Gitmo, we can now hear the story of one such Iraqi detainee. His name is Ali Abdul Motalib Hassan al-Tayeea. Or, if you prefer, “Pimp Daddy”–a nickname Gitmo’s guards gave him, for reasons that become obvious from the transcript.

Ali was brought before the military tribunal that is determining whether he and the several hundred other Guantánamo detainees should continue to be held as enemy combatants. At the outset of his hearing, Ali thanked America for getting rid of Saddam’s “cruel regime,” which he said killed one of his uncles. Ali claimed he had escaped service in Saddam’s Republican Guard and decried the Butcher of Baghdad’s poor treatment of his fellow citizens. He even professed a desire to become an “American person.”

So far so good. But then, something odd happened. Ali launched into an obscenity-laden rant that takes up much of the 24-page record of his tribunal proceeding.

He is clearly a very angry man. But why? Is it the occupation of his native Baghdad? His detention at Gitmo?

No. Ali explains:

My problem isn’t just that I am poor, or that Saddam’s government killed my second uncle. My problem, I’m sorry to say in front of the two ladies, but I want the Judge to know everything about me. I was never a “homo” or gay, but I have a problem. I can’t get married because my penis is small-sized. I went to the doctor and they said there is no help. They said I couldn’t have an operation or surgery of any kind because I’m poor. I want to get the operation or drugs in America or Europe. Who can help me? . . .
This problem has taken all of my life and my thinking. For example, when I was in school, a lot of my friends were married. I look at my friends and say they have a good life. I can’t stay in my house, because my father and mother are waiting very anxiously for me to get married. She says she has a nice girl for me to marry, because she says this is my goal in life. I run away from these questions from my mom. I told her that I want to go to college and be a good person. My family said it was a bulls–reason and that I’m Arab and I can marry and complete my life. I can’t stand the sight of my mom, because she says, “my son, I want to see your kids.” I just kiss my mom and I say “maybe someday.”

In America this is only a little problem, but in my home and in my life, it’s very difficult when the days get dark, because I hate running from my people. I feel someday I’ll go back to my home and I’m sure that all of my friends are married now. This is not just me in my family; it’s also my younger brother. He was born in 1980. He’s big and is a nice guy, but has the same problem. I know about my brother, but my family doesn’t.

The transcript of Ali’s tribunal session is by no means typical. From a terrorism-researcher’s perspective there are far more interesting pieces of information contained in the newly released Gitmo documents. There is a secret deal between Iran and the Taliban in 2001, and there are details of a suspected terrorist who was almost smuggled across the Mexican border.

But like a good episode of the Jerry Springer show, there is something compelling about Ali’s “candor.” He describes a run-in with his commander in the Iraqi military, a Major Abdullah:

He once called me “Kiki”; it means “homo”; . . . it means nice boy. I’m sorry, but he’s a motherf–. If I was there, I’d f–ing kill him.

Major Abdullah is not the sole focus of Ali’s ire. It seems that virtually everyone in his life has done him wrong. When Ali left Iraq on December 16, 1998, he first made his way to Jordan. He quickly ran out of money, though, and decided to call an uncle in Holland for help:

I charged it to the hotel’s phone, because I didn’t have any money to go outside to make the call. My uncle never even sent me one Jordanian Dinar. He’s an asshole and a motherf–, but he’s my uncle and I miss him.

Ali’s sister finally came to the rescue, lending him enough money to purchase a visa on which he made his way to Syria. Several months later he left for Turkey, where he was arrested by the “motherf–ing police,” who dropped him off in northern Iraq. From there he made his way through Iran to Pakistan and then to Afghanistan.

Ali says he had no love for Osama bin Laden or the Taliban. “I knew there was this little f–er, Osama Bin Laden, and the f–ing Taliban. If I saw Osama Bin Laden, I’d kill him.” They say “Osama Bin Laden is a prophet or something like that. That’s bulls–.”

Regarding Afghanistan’s deposed government, “The Taliban is f–ed up, I’m serious. . . . They pray like 20 times a day. That’s too hard for me. What the f–? I’ve got to say this 20 times? That’s f–ed up.”

He got work as a driver for the Taliban, but hated the job.

I don’t believe in the Taliban, but being hungry and homeless, I worked there for 2 1/2 months and traveled in an old Russian car called a Gas 66. There are many of these in Iraq; it’s a bulls–car. Everyday there was a broken engine, so I requested the money to fix it. I put a little of the money in my pocket and I’d go fix it. I didn’t want to go every day. The f–ing Taliban is f–ing my life.

Ali claims he was detained by the Northern Alliance’s forces when the war broke out. But his fellow detainees did not think highly of him because he did not conform to their strict grooming rules. The clean-shaven Ali explains that he is a Shiite, and in his religion “only old men have beards. My brother and father have no beard either. The beards are bulls–. They [the Taliban and al Qaeda] have bulls–rules.”

While in custody, he met the man known to many as the “American Taliban,” John Walker Lindh. Lindh, he says, “was a good guy, I promise. . . . These people, they lie about John Walker. He was a jackass, and he’s young and doesn’t know anything about the Islamic religion. They just broke his mind and taught him Islamic. Islamic doesn’t mean to kill people, like they do. . . . I’m not a jackass.”

From the Northern Alliance, Ali was transferred to American custody. But even at Gitmo, Ali’s fellow detainees don’t think much of him:

They call me motherf–all the time and I say, “f–Osama Bin Laden and f–the Taliban.” I’m very happy and I tell them I’ll stay here forever and give information about them. I tell them, “f–you, if you believe in Osama Bin Laden.”

There is no hint of Ali’s fate in the transcript. The tribunal board continually reiterates that it doesn’t have the power to make an immediate decision. For all of Ali’s troubles, he says, he would like to be freed and serve America. If the U.S. military won’t take him, there’s always hip-hop. Or Yale.

Thomas Joscelyn is an economist and writer living in New York.

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