The Fanonite

I am looking forward to Nick Broomfield’s film on the Haditha massacre.  Here he is in the inaugural issue of RealFits describing the story behind the film.

Abu Ghraib and the Haditha massacre of 2005 will be remembered as the most haunting, symbolic events of the Iraq War, just as My Lai is for Vietnam. In reality there were countless Hadithas; this kind of thing happens and will always happen in any serious conflict. It is an inherent part of the language of war, and the Tony Blair’s and George Bush’s know when they embark on such misadventures that countless numbers of innocent people will inevitably be killed. A million Iraqis have died in the last five years and the responsibility can only be taken by the self-same politicians who actively choose to create a war.

I approached the making of my film ‘Battle for Haditha’ by preparing in the same way as one would for a documentary, although I had decided to cast the drama with ex-Marines and Iraqi’s who had lived through the conflict to work as “non-actors” in the film.

After meeting with the Time Magazine journalist responsible for the piece that revealed the massacre, my co-producer Anna Telford and I journeyed to San Diego to the Marine base at Camp Pendleton to meet with Marines of Kilo Company, the unit involved in the killing of civilians at Haditha. The first thing that struck me was how unbelievably young they were. They had joined up at 17. Two were Mexican and had joined to obtain American citizenship and another had joined to escape the precarious gang life he was leading in San Diego.

Initially they supplied a barrage of disgusting humour about the Iraqi’s, about killing women and children and chasing each other around with body parts. It was a type of bravado that had slipped by the second day, revealing traumatised young boys unable to deal with what they had endured. Most of Kilo Company had fought in Fallujah where they had witnessed indescribable carnage and all lost Marine buddies. They had returned to the United States unable to relate to their families and girlfriends, unable to sleep at night, with recurring nightmares, and largely incapable of fulfilling normal roles in a civilian society.

They had received no psychiatric support or treatment from the Marine Corps, although most had requested it, even before the atrocity at Haditha had occurred. They were all now on tranquilisers with uncertain futures, haunted by memories that would remain with them for the rest of their lives. Anna and I both saw them as victims who, having served their function in the Marine Corps, were being treated as human waste.

We went to Amman in Jordan to meet with survivors of the massacre who were able at that time to flee Haditha: a formerly wealthy Sunni city with large houses, good schools, and a place where couples would honeymoon by the Euphrates.

Most of the survivors initially supported the American liberation, but then watched their streets; town and way of life disintegrate in front of them. They felt that things were much worse than under Saddam, and now under the Americans, they had no control over their future. What emerged beyond the details of the day was a very complicated portrait of the insurgency and the difficulties it posed for Haditha residents.

When the Americans simultaneously demobilised Saddam’s army, and postponed democratic elections, many of the residents of Haditha who had been in the army joined the insurgency, which was run along army structures. However, when funds started to run dry, they turned to foreign fighters from Syria and Saudi Arabia, including Al Qaeda to provide weapons and supplies.

The Sunni’s of Haditha are not an especially religious people but when the foreign fighters came, the insurgency was forced to become fundamentalist. Alcohol was banned, people speaking English were executed on suspicion of being spies, satellite phone networks were blown up and the residents of Haditha started to fear for their lives. It is clear to me that the tragic massacre of November 19th 2005 effectively delivered Haditha into the hands of the insurgency: every family now had a personal, vociferous grudge against American Marines.

For a week we talked to survivors. It was difficult to see grown men weep uncontrollably. They somehow thought we would have an explanation for what had happened. What emerged in all our conversations was that all parties, civilians, insurgents and marines, regarded themselves as victims. The Iraqi’s and Marines alike clamored to communicate because they felt their perspective had never been represented. Both sides harboured a deep suspicion and paranoia of the other. Despite the fears and prejudices that were so ingrained, a few months later when we actually began shooting they had the first real opportunity to get to know one another as men and women.

Neither really knew anything at all about the other. On the first day of filming a nasty fight broke out between an Iraqi and a marine when the former learnt that some of the latter had served in Fallujah, where 3 of his brothers had been killed. At one stage I didn’t think we would complete filming because tensions between the two groups were so severe.

The Marines, distrustful of all Arabs, constantly feared assassination. On one occasion I suggested dinner in a restaurant in the town where we were filming and the Marines accused me of recklessness; ever convinced a faceless sniper would take them out along the way.

Yet within several weeks the Iraqi’s and Marines got to kicking a football around together and chatting. Then they became close friends, both sides amazed that they could actually like the other, and I realised that this was the first time that they had ever communicated meaningfully. Months later, when I eventually showed the film to the Iraqi cast back in Jordan I was surprised by how many times I was questioned not about particular scenes or harsh editing decisions, but about how the Marines were doing.

The film-making process revealed the humanity of both reconciliation and conflict, not to mention the incomprehensible, horrible reality of Iraq. The trial for the Marines of Kilo Company continues, and will not realistically be resolved until the end of March or April, if ever. But isn’t it the architects of this war, Blair and the Bush, who knew what they were doing and were advised what the repercussions of their decisions could be, who should be standing in a dock?

Nick Broomfield
www.nickbroomfield.com