corrente

And that's just counting deaths among the liberators. Among the liberated, estimated deaths range from 7 to 10,000, and not only the deaths of young men and woman, but also of children of all ages, adult civilians of all ages, people who are mothers, and fathers, sons and daughters, uncles and aunts, grandparents, cousins, friends and neighbors.

The numbers for the wounded Americans and Iraqis are higher by a factor of seven, or even ten, as far as I can tell. And we are talking about greivous injuries.

The turning of this particular corner of over a thousand Americans having died in Iraq is a fairly arbitrary milestone, but it deserves its moment of respect and contemplation. I believe there is a sacramental element threaded through our everyday life that demands of us, as Arthur Miller would have it, that we pay attention, and that such attention sometimes requires a ceremonial expression.

That is not an entirely comfortable position to hold for someone like myself, a non-believing Jew whose connection to the 5000 years old "faith of her fathers" is focused on history and tradition, but not formal religious participation. I'm aware, too, that having to concoct your own ad hoc ceremonies on an "as needed" basis lacks a good deal of the dignity and resonance offered by the great traditional world religions. I'm not uncomfortable being in a synogogue, or a cathedral, or a church, or a Quaker meeting hall, or a mosque, or a zen monastary, or at a Hindu puja, all places that at various points in my life I've found friends and solice. But one believes what one believes.

So today, I will take time to think about this war of ours in Iraq, how we got there, and what we do now, and in the future. I hope to be as critical of my own positions and choices as I am of others.

But mostly I will pay attention to specific stories about the sacrifice and suffering of particular people, Americans and Iraqis, who have and continue to struggle to keep the reality on the ground in Iraq from slipping into irredeemable tragedy

And while I'm on this subject, something I've been wanting to say about the nearly universal criticism of Michael Moore aabout his inclusion in "Farhenheit 911,"of scenes of Iraqis in the ordinary tasks of daily life, without any mention of Saddam Hussein. John McCain referred to it in his speech at the RNC, noting that this disingenous filmmaker seemed to have an idyllic view of life in Saddam's Iraq. The MSNBC pundit panel really groved on that one.

Nonsense. Astonishing isn't it, the phillistinism present among our elite gasbags, who are as unfamiliar with documentary film as a form as they are unaware of their own ignorance? What, a "documenatary" with staged elements? That's right, Mr. Scarborough and allow me to introduce you to Robert Flaherty, whose great "Nanook Of The North" was almost enirely staged. What, a documentary with a subjective point of view? Allow me to introduce Alain Resnais, whose "Night & Fog" used footage of the Holocaust in a subjective examination of whether or not it is possible to make a documentary about the Holocaust.

Hardly surprising, then, that Senator McCain has no idea how to read Moore's documentary, nor understood that Michael Moore was under no obligation to directly reference the point that Saddam Hussein was a monstrous tyrant. Detailed knowledge of Saddam's tyrannies over the Iraqi people had become common knowledge in the world for which Moore was making his film; after months of almost obssessive public discussion of those facts, Michael had every right to assume all members of his audience would be throughly acquainted with them.

The point of the shots of ordinary Iraqis in the act of being human, neighborhood kids playing, women hanging up the wash, was precisely to insist on their full identity as human beings, against their proscribed identity as singularly Saddam's victims in most pre-invasion discusions, as if pre-invasion Iraq was a concentration camp and Iraqis were helpless inmates.

Americans and Iraqis. Are they "them," as against our "us." Or, are "they" part of our "we?" It's that conundrum Moore's film confronts, with a good deal more honesty than do any of the writings of Andrew Sullivan or David Brooks.

For a sense of Iraqis as specific people who take their place in a specific, complex culture, I can think of nothing better than Riverbend's "Baghdad Burning." She hasn't posted since early August, but you can read her archives, as I did this morning; you'll find them to be as fresh and instructive as when you first read them.

For a sense of what it is like for American troops on the ground in Iraq I know of no better reporting than Nir Rosen's in this five part series from October 2003 that was published in the AsiaTimes. Rosen is rightly getting wider attention, and if you missed his Report From Fallujah from a July issue of The New Yorker, it's not too late to get to it.

In addition, if you haven't developed the habit of checking in on a regular basis at Occupation Watch, you should. The material there is remarkable. It's point of view is essentially Iraqi, even though it is made up of supporters from around the world. It opposes the occupation, but non-violently and with compassion, even for the American soldiers who are called upon to carry it out. Right now, they have up a plea for the release if the Italian and Iraqi aid workers just abducted in Baghdad:

Another book I'll be reading today is one I've mentioned before. "TWILIGHT OF EMPIRE: Responses to Occupation" a collection of essays published in 2003, that is lavishly illustrated with some extraordinary photographs taken in Iraq that are both beautiful and disquieting. The book was edited by Mark LeVine, a professor at UC-Irvine, who speaks Arabic and seems to have an amazing background on the ground in the Middle East and by the actor, Viggo Mortensen, whose Perceval Press is also the book's publisher, something I hadn't realized when I first recommended it.

There are some well known names among the essayists, Naomi Klein, Mike Davis, Amy Goodman, Medea Benjamin, and members of her group, Code Pink, whose political choises I don't always agree with, but whose work forging global links between people who are committed to non-violent, radical, in the best sense of that word, change, I admire and support. Christian Parenti has an eye-opening essay about being on the ground with our troops in Iraq, "Stretched Thin, Lied To, And Mistreated." The most compelling voices belong to Iraqi's and Arab journalists.

There is something healing about the care and even love with which the book has been produced; it feels beautiful in one's hands, as well as to look at and read. It's available at Amazon, although the last time I looked, (I've bought it as a gift for a number of people), several of its marketplace associates will get it to you faster than Amazon itself)

And finally, since the sacred needn't exclude humor, if you missed the night in December of 2002 when Peter Jackson and members of his cast were gathered on The Charlie Rose Show to discuss the second installment of "The Lord Of The Rings," but Rose, whose war intoxication was evident on any show where politics was the subject, couldn't keep himself from asking what political point Viggo Mortensen was raising by the t-shirt he was wearing under his jacket, that displayed the phrase "No More Blood for Oil" apparently painted on it by the actor himself. Mortensen quietly explains that normally he wouldn't be making a political point in such a context, but that he's been disturbed by the number of comments he's heard the use the films and the Tolkein book as an inspiration/justification for American policy in the world after 9/11. While you can see that Mortensen is torn, taking up time meant to discuss a film about which he cleary cares deeply, but wanting to keep the record straight about too facile self-serving interpretations of the films' emphasis on war, CharlieRose lets the segment get away from him because he's itching to take on Mortensen's arguments, and he does manage to get in that classic meant-to-be-a zinger - "Well, what kind of response should we have had to 9/11?" It's fun to watch it with hindsight, and one of the few times it's possible look back at how we got to where we are today without descending into rage.

You can find a video clip of the first half of the show here; the portion in question is about nine minutes into the show. The second half is confined to discussion of the film, but for anyone interested it can be found here.