A conversation with Robin Hoecker reflecting on her visit to Iraq

Robin Hoecker and the rolling hills of Amman

Ms. Robin Hoecker, a native of Pittsburgh and currently working as an intern in the UUA's Washington Office for Advocacy, was part of a delegation of religious and humanitarian aid leaders who visited Iraq under the aegis of the National Council of Churches of Christ in the U.S., December 27, 2002 -January 3, 2003. Hoecker, an aspiring photojournalist, was also the only young adult to make this trip. She offered her thoughts during the week of January 10.

What were the most surprising things you found on your trip?

Three things:

1. How little hostility I felt towards Americans.
2. The contrast of life and death
3. The reality of the oppression of a dictatorship

From the moment I stepped off the plane in Amman, I found the people to be very hospitable, open, and friendly. People were glad that I had come to see with my own eyes the country, the people, and wanted to share these things with me.

My first interaction with Iraqis was actually in the Iraqi embassy in Amman while we were waiting for our visas. I had learned some basic phrases in Arabic, thanks to fellow delegate Victor Makari- a Presbyterian minister and fluent Arabic speaker), and was eager to try them out. I was sitting next to a group if Iraqi women, the older ones in veils and long robes, the younger ones were wearing flared pants and western-looking clothes. I said hello, and started working my way through the first of many simple conversations. I told them my age, and after some hesitation, that I was American. It was like it didn't even matter -- they smiled and we realized that some of us were the same age, 22. Using body language, charades, and plenty of smiles, we were able to communicate. And I learned some more Arabic terms. It was only the first of many friendly encounters I had with Iraqi people. Even the people I ran into on the street, or in the parking lots, were very nice, wanted to say hello, or have their pictures taken if they saw my camera.

I was also amazed by the juxtaposition of life and death, of vibrancy and suffering, of happiness and despair. I was surprised to see how clean and developed Baghdad was, with wide avenues, tall buildings, buses, cars, and people going about daily life like in any other city. There were shopping districts with trendy clothes and jewelry in the windows. It was clear that Baghdad was and is a cultural center.

In the hospitals, I saw the reality of those statistics we hear so often- that 500,000 Iraqi children have died prematurely since the start of the sanctions in 1990. Statistics dehumanize the tragedy and the crisis. Seeing the suffering with my own eyes made me realize that a child does not just die one day; itt is a slow process of suffering, a child born prematurely without fully developing its organs because its mother was malnourished during its pregnancy. That child slowly wastes away in its mother's arms, and she can do nothing but watch, knowing, like the doctors, that her child could have been healthy under different circumstances. The mothers look sorrowfully through the plastic of the incubators at their premature and damaged babies, as the doctors explain how they have seen a sharp increase in birth defects since the mid-1990's, due to malnutrition of the mothers.

I was acutely aware of the tight controls that were the evidence of life under an oppressive dictator. Saddam Hussein's ubiquitous face appeared in the background of many of my pictures. He was always there, almost as if he was listening and watching every move of each person there. And I felt that. We had government handlers accompany us everywhere we went. As a photographer, I often lagged behind, or moved ahead of the group, checking out various camera angles. I was never alone in doing so; people were watching me and what I was taking pictures of.

Why did you go on this trip?
I went because I agreed with the mission of the NCC delegation. I wanted to bring attention to the Iraqi people, who are the real victims in this situation, no matter how you look at it. They are suffering under the strict sanctions that have resulted in a drastic increase in infant mortality. That affects not only the children who die, but the families and parents they leave behind. The Iraqi people are suffering under the oppressive rule of a dictator, with few viable alternatives. The Iraqi people will be the ones who will suffer during the fighting if an invasion occurs.

And I went because I feel that my generation has the most at stake. We will be the ones fighting this war on the ground, and we will be the ones facing the consequences and backlash in the future. This war is putting the dreams of young people like me, both American and Iraqi, at stake.

And finally, I went because I agree with Einstein's statement that "Peace cannot be achieved through force, it can only be achieved through understanding." I went to see with my own eyes and listen with my own ears. I learned so much, especially about the stereotypes that Americans have about that part of the world. I am hoping to increase understanding of cultures through the universal language of art and photography. That is why I took the nearly 200 pieces of art from young UUs to give to the kids in Iraq, and that is why I am sharing my pictures with everyone now that I am back. I am trying to build understanding across cultures which can be the foundation for peace.

What are your thoughts on the prospect of war?
After meeting with representatives of all of the churches, NGO's, UNICEF (United Nations Children's Fund), and seeing the aftermath of the first Gulf war, I am convinced that invading Iraq will result in a humanitarian disaster.

70% of the population is dependent on food rations distributed by the government, among other services. What will happen to these people when the infrastructure is destroyed?

"Surgical Strikes" means taking out military targets, but also targets such as electrical grids, which will paralyze the military, but will also paralyze the population by rendering schools, hospitals, and homes uninhabitable.

People will flee. Baghdad is a city of five million people. Where will they go if fighting breaks out, they have no food, and no water, no heat? Are they going to walk across the desert? Jordan has already stated that it will not accept refugees at its borders. Where are people going to go?

So I keep asking the questions: Who is going to notice or care or do anything? And does our military plan include a contingency plan for the humanitarian crisis that will most likely occur?

To read more about Robin Hoecker's trip to Iraq, visit her online journal.

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