Relatives meet remains of Kurds found in mass graves
The
remains of 150 found in southern Iraq are met at the airport in Irbil.
There is a ceremony, but also disappointment for many.
By Asso Ahmed
December 1, 2008
Reporting from Irbil, Iraq —
For more than 20 years, Aska Ali Ameen waited for her husband to come
home.
She knew he was dead, but getting his corpse would be better than
having nothing. At least she could give him a decent burial.
When Ameen finally got a peek inside the coffin given to her by
government officials, though, she felt no relief.
"As I look inside the coffin, I wonder, is the man inside my
husband or not?" said Ameen, standing on an airport tarmac where the
coffins of 150 long-deceased Kurds had just been unloaded from a cargo
plane in the northern city of Irbil, capital of the semiautonomous
Kurdistan region.
After so many years, Shareef Ali's remains were like the others that
arrived from Najaf last month: bones and dust.
There were no shreds of clothing, no jewelry, nothing personal -- only
a slip of paper stating that an identification document proved these
were Ali's remains.
An estimated 180,000 Kurds died in the 1980s in what came to be
known as the Anfal campaign, or "spoils of war." The campaign included
gas attacks on the Kurds' northern homeland and the transfer of Kurds
to southern Iraq, where many were killed.
As with most of the crackdowns designed to bolster President
Saddam Hussein's Sunni Arab-led dictatorship, most victims were
civilians.
The remains of Anfal victims have stayed beneath the country's
sandy soil, in the deep holes where the Kurds fell after being gunned
down. Identification cards are mixed among bones or tucked in pockets
of whatever remains of clothing.
Since Hussein's ouster in 2003, the graves have been uncovered one by
one. So many, in fact, that the Iraqi government has designated May 16
as Mass Graves Day, a national day of remembrance.
The latest discovery was about three months ago in a farmer's field
near Najaf. Many of the bodies were identified through documentation
found nearby. For others, there were no clues. But each set of remains
was placed in a coffin and sent to Irbil, about 290 miles north, where
relatives waited on a chilly, overcast afternoon, hoping that their
lost loved ones were among those whose identities had been confirmed.
"For 22 years I am waiting for the return of my brother's corpse," Ali
Mohammed said, crying as he spoke of Fraydoon Mohammed. "Today I see
him among many corpses, yet I cannot identify him."
Like Ameen, he had hoped for some physical reminder to set his
brother's remains apart from the other piles of bones. His wailing
continued.
"This is unfair," Mohammed said. "We did not recover his corpse so we
can bury it and visit it every now and then. We were deprived of many
things. Even the graves."
Kurdistan's president, Massoud Barzani, attended along with victims'
families and representatives of the Iraqi government. The Kurdish and
the Iraqi anthems were played, an effort to demonstrate unity between
Baghdad's central government and the Kurdish regional government.
But some relatives of the deceased accused Iraqi and Kurdish officials
of using the corpse return for political gain. Barzani and Iraqi Prime
Minister Nouri Maliki are engaged in a feud over what each says is the
other's attempts to horn in on his sovereignty.
Neither has helped Kurdish people, contended Shareef Salih, who was
waiting for the remains of three cousins.
"They talk about prosperity, but I wish they could give me one
example of that," he said of the leaders. "They did nothing for us, but
they've made good political gains out of Anfal."
As he spoke, the sounds of women crying mixed with the anthems. Each
coffin was draped with a Kurdish flag, its huge and brilliant yellow
sun a jarring contrast to the grim proceedings and ashen faces.
Barzani, in a brief speech, vowed to bring all Anfal victims home.
Said Salih, clutching a picture of his missing father, Salih Mahmoud,
will be waiting. He had found coffins carrying remains of people from
his Kurdish village, based on identification found with their skeletons.
"But, unfortunately," Salih said, "I could not find my father."
Ahmed is a special correspondent. Times staff writer Tina Susman in
Baghdad contributed to this report.
Copyright 2008 Los Angeles Times