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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