Mohamed began working for me as an interpreter in Baghdad in April 2003, shortly after the fall of the city. He had been educated as a civil engineer, but with no civil government left in place after the invasion, he decided to work for the Americans.
Mohamed takes a break not far from the Syrian border, 2003
After a month in the capital, we moved to northern Iraq, and Mohamed came with us, quickly becoming an important member of our team. When my unit left the country in early 2004, Mohamed stayed on translating for a while, but when it became too dangerous, he quit. He went back to Baghdad and started working contractor jobs in the Green Zone--jobs where he could actually put his degree to work with the ongoing reconstruction projects. In late 2005, his father--who I’d met back in 2003--got, as we would say in the infantry, "lit the fuck up" by an American checkpoint for not stopping his car in time. He survived, but his injuries are permanent.
My point in saying all this, I guess, is that Mohamed has been around. He’s experienced the whole range of the war in Iraq. So when he says stuff about his country, he has a pretty good idea of what he’s talking about.
Until last night, I hadn’t heard from Mohamed in a couple of months. But here’s an excerpt from our conversation over Facebook:
BRANDON FRIEDMAN: how is baghdad?
MOHAMED: alot better. a lot
BF: that's what i hear.
M: amercans can walk in streets againe. belve me. its better
BF: no shit? what's going to happen when u.s. forces leave?
M: they cant leave. no body allows them to leave
BF: people start killing each other again?
M: yes. they will
All that political progress people are talking about? All that reconciliation? Mohamed’s not buying it. Of course, he’s just one guy. So take from that conversation what you will.
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