First his pictures filled the newspapers and finally he was there, on TV, when his investiture was broadcasted. An inconspicuous man sitting proudly beside Saddam Hussein, the president of Iraq back then.

The recording started with a small crowd clapping and praising the president entering the beautiful hall, which usually hosted the awarding ceremonies of high ranked politicians and military officers. Hussein greeted his guests with thanking words and a big smile on his face.

Saddam Hussein walked to the hero of the newspapers with a second degreed Al-Refidayn medal in his hands and placed it around the old man’s neck, while saying his famous “afiya, afiya” to express his appreciation for the braveness of the old man and his „endless love for Iraq“. The flashlights were raining over them to catching this historical moment. The crowd, mainly consisting of the old man’s family, started clapping and shouting out prayers and praising slogans.

When the president sat down and the guests also took their places on the expensive white and gold furniture, the man was asked to tell his story.

He started his speech with the typical phrases of ensuring his loyalty to the president, the country and the military and damming everybody who wants to harm Iraq.
He started talking about his 4 sons. How proud he was, when they were old enough to join the army and fight against the Iranian enemy. His wish was that his sons would „whiten his face“ in front of the world by returning from the battlefield in one of two ways: either in coffins wrapped in the Iraqi flag as martyrs or as glorious heroes waiving the flag of victory.
But unfortunately his oldest son turned out to be a coward. He was afraid to sacrifice his soul for the president and for the country. He ran away from the battlefield to save his own life and left his brothers and mates behind.
He came home to hide from the war fires like a weak dog.
“I was so angry, disappointed and full of shame! Why did he do this to me?
How did he dare turn his back on his duty, to you my dear sir president and to our beloved country? My anger was big. My pain and shame were indescribable. I shouted at him, I threatened him, I warned him but he didn’t listen. I understood then that I have raised a useless citizen, who brought shame over me and my family. I fetched my revolver and went to his room. I told him: you are afraid to be killed? I will shoot you, you betrayer.

And then, Mr. President, I shot him dead. I killed him for the crime of high treason.“

The voices of those who were present rose again praising and clapping.

We were witnessing the honoring of a murderer. A father who killed his unarmed son, only because he refused to fight in a meaningless war, in which the outcomes were the death of more than a million human souls and an extreme damage of the infrastructure and economy on both sides.

I was speechless, exactly as most of the people I knew. We were excellently trained in being speechless. Speaking about the craziness of this act or calling it the honoring of a killer, was just the thick red line we learned never to cross, and we never did.

There are a lot of methods used by ruling regimes to make people submissive. I find killing the morality in a community is one of the worst ways to gain total control.

When I think of this evening, I feel sad that I once have been part of the big silent mass.
Today crimes of parents killing their children (mostly young women) for „shaming the family“ are still happening and still being tolerated by the Iraqi government. In most of these cases the murderers get backed by their families and may even get away without trial or punishment.