My Fellow Americans Our WAR ON MUSLIMS Has Manifold Aims. One Is to PLUNDER the WEALTH of the Muslims to ENRICH Us, Another Is to DESTROY Their Economic INFRASTRUCTURE Back to STONEAGE & Finally to SLAUGHTER the ISLAMIC MORONS in Their THOUANDS So as to SEND a Strong Message NEVER Dare Question Our ACTIONS. God Bless America. GWB In Search of Islamic Fascists Part 1: Entering Syria By Alexander Gainem Freelance journalist - Canada http://www.islamonline.net/servlet/Satellite?c=Article_C&cid=1158658479977&pagename=Zone-English-Muslim_Affairs%2FMAELayout#**1 In this four-part series, Alexander Gainem embarks on a special mission to Syria one of George W. Bush's primary Axis of Evil states where he begins his search of the American president's proclaimed "Islamic fascists." Gainem describes in detail his encounters with Syrians the primary suspects. Every few years, the Bush administration comes out with puzzling phrases and monikers to label issues it believes the world must take note of. For example, there is Rumsfeld's "dead-enders" quip. Is someone dead when he reaches the end (of what, we don't know) or is death the end? How do you apply to become a member of the dead-ender society? Then we had the ethically flawed campaign trail diatribe of "war on terror." War is terror, so does this mean this is a war on war? Or terror to outflank terror? But the best had to be Bush's latest brainstorm in calling all his enemies in the Arab and Muslim world "Islamic fascists." Just what on earth is that? Fascism and Islam, or even radical Islam? By their very definitions these two terms are at odds with one another. OK, George, maybe someone forgot to explain the difference to you, like the time you didn't know there was a difference between Shiites and Sunnis on the eve of the Iraq War. I decided to play the devil's advocate and wanted to see where these Islamic fascists could be hiding. Because Bush had used that term in reference to the recent war on Lebanon, I decided to head to Syria. After all, Bush and Condi were falling over each other, competing for who could say "Syria," "Iran," "Lebanon," and "terrorism" the most in the same breath. Islamic fascists, here I come. No Beheadings? I arrived in Damascus International Airport rather late one night a few weeks ago and as I headed to baggage claim, I saw a kiosk for Syriatel, one of the local mobile phone providers. I couldn't believe it. I mean this was like a sign that Syria was in the wireless communications age and they had two competing networks to boot. OK, but that didn't prepare me for what came next. A woman, yes, an actual young woman was behind the counter, and she wasn't veiled, wasn't put on a leash, and had no burka or chador in sight. But how could that be? I mean, didn't Islamic fascists imprison women and beat them and cut their hair and do all sorts of monstrous torture? I was so afraid she would be beheaded for daring to be a woman. I mean, that is what Bush told the world Islamic fascists do wait, that is also what the first lady Laura Bush told us in her numerous radio addresses on women in the Muslim World. Hmmm haven't heard from Laura in a while. Guess the kids are keeping her busy. I shook as I asked the young woman for a chip for my phone. She looked up at me, her eyes confident and green, her face masked in make-up, her countenance rather cheerful and somewhat attractive. Maybe she was wearing a prosthetic guise, and the Islamic fascist was hiding underneath. I wanted to ask her if she really was a woman. "Yes, um I want a temporary phone line for visitors " I couldn't control my shaking. It was embarrassing but maybe she would chalk it up to constant-flier fatigue. "Of course, sir," she replied, displaying her pearly white teeth. Her smile unhinged me from my nervousness. I mean come on; they're all Islamic fascists, right? Maybe she was going to kill me or something. Instead, she was extremely hospitable, very cheerful, and genuinely interested in helping me. I got my phone card and my bag, and was zipping out of the airport in a taxi, headed for the ancient city of Damascus. No Turbans? The cab driver was rather an ox. I mean, he was huge, his stomach must have swallowed many a WMD in his time. I felt I needed to get on a soapbox to get on just to see if there was a turban on his head. Nope, no turban. Maybe this was his night job and he used his turban during the day when all the Islamic fascists came out to play and pray. "How long have you driven a taxi?" I asked him rather suddenly. He looked at me surprised, perhaps thinking the alien can speak after all. He said he drove a taxi for six years as it provided him with better income than his agriculture-related job. Apparently, he had an agriculture degree from one of the local universities. I wondered why he didn't get a degree in Qur'anic recitation or Osamabinladenism. I made a mental note to check on schools and universities in Damascus. As we sped to my hotel (thank God, they have hotels and not camel-infested tents) we talked about the country, where to go. He told me of the Roman ruins of Latakia. Roman ruins? I looked at him quizzically and blurted out, "Why didn't you blow them up?" He stared at me in disbelief. "Blow them up? Why would we do that? These are part of our history, our heritage, and we take pride in the history of our country.""Syria is rich and diverse in its ancient, Islamic, and modern history. This is for all the world to see. You should visit the city," he said. I might very well do that. I remember reading on the plane that as the principal port of Syria, Latakia had wonderful sea views and plenty to see for any tourist headed to the country. Apparently, the city had been a vital part of the trade routes between Ancient Rome and the marvel of Alexandria in Egypt. It was steeped in ancient Greek and Roman lore, as well as Crusader and Salah Ad-Din legends. Hmmm Room Service We got to my hotel, unloaded my bags, and I was shown to my room. It was a splendid room, although the view was rather bland. If I hadn't known any better, the room could have been in one of the finest hotels in Europe. Sure beat staying at the Best Western or Motel 8 somewhere over the ocean. I was famished. All that fear raging in me as Bush and Laura and Condi's words replayed in my mind made me hungry. I called Room Service and, much to my surprise, a young woman answered and took my order (yes, they had 24-hour room service). A few minutes later, a feast of mezzeh (traditional Syrian appetizers) including hommous, some eggplant dish, tabouleh, and their famous kibbeh arrived. I ate like a er ... fascist, gulping everything down like there was no tomorrow. Well, who knew, I might be poisoned or something. I switched on the television and saw some BBC World and EuroNews, before allowing CNN to bore me into sleepdom. I tried not to focus on the fact that international satellite stations were available here. I did spot several hundred satellite dishes atop buildings on my way into the city. As I lay in bed, I reflected on the end of the first day. I started to suspect that King George hadn't been very honest with me. I mean, this was really hard for me to swallow because Bush and his clique had been right all along about everything, telling the US and world public everything we needed to know and with such candid and honest fervor. Still, I decided to wait till day two; maybe the Islamic fascists would come out of the woodwork then. Alexander Gainem is a freelance journalist who has written extensively on Middle East issues. AB [EMAIL PROTECTED] "For to us will be their return; then it will be for us to call them to account." (Holy Quran 88:25-26)
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