Whirlpool of wars

Kuwait Times - - FROM THE ARABIC PRESS - By Dr Na­jem Ab­dul Ka­reem

Liv­ing in a whirlpool of wars sur­round­ing my Arab na­tion ev­ery­where made me dig more into the files of some pre­vi­ous wars, a thing which I doubt any of our war lead­ers and strat­egy mak­ers have ever done - to ex­plore the re­sults of such wars and the dis­as­ters they have brought upon mankind! I chose to read about Hitler’s siege of Len­ingrad and fo­cused more on the so­cial im­pact of this siege rather than war­fare. I did this by reading a se­ries of ar­ti­cles writ­ten by Vira Ab­ner in Pravda un­der the ti­tle “I Lived in Len­ingrad un­der Nazi Ger­man Siege”.

She wrote the fol­low­ing:

“Tem­per­a­tures went be­low 30 de­grees Centi­grade and the ice on the streets was over 10 cm thick. There was hardly any house where a man, woman or child had not died of cold or star­va­tion. The liv­ing used to walk through the city like ghosts. Women no longer cared about their beauty or makeup. They looked more like dry reeds with eyes look­ing more like black holes on their bony faces.

“I had a neigh­bor called Irina Klobo­vana who used to be Miss Len­ingrad be­fore the block­ade. Her love for her hus­band was a well-known story through­out Rus­sia. I paid her a visit and found her hair shaggy, as if she was over 60. She was eat­ing the wall­pa­per off her house walls. “Why not? Isn’t wall­pa­per made of tree leaves? The main thing is to keep my stom­ach work­ing in­stead of leav­ing it to wither with­out food,” she told me. “How is your hus­band?” I asked, and she told that he had aban­doned her to live with a friend and neigh­bor of hers. “How come? Af­ter all that love?” I asked in shock. “I do not blame him. She has hid­den her dead hus­band and kids’ ra­tion cards. And my hus­band wants to stay alive with her. He even took my ra­tion card,” she ex­plained.

“The ra­tion card was a very pre­cious pearl in those days. It was the most pre­cious thing a man could own in Len­ingrad, where the army was fight­ing the ra­tion card black mar­ket de­vel­op­ing un­der Ger­man bom­bard­ment. I once saw a lady who used to be very rich sell­ing her pre­cious furs for a ra­tion card. The ra­tion card trade flour­ished with peo­ple who lost fam­ily mem­bers and buried them se­cretly in or­der to keep their cards. Death was more like an every­day event for the city’s res­i­dents. There were no more un­der­tak­ers to bury the dead. Corpses were piled in trenches like trash. I once saw a man car­ry­ing his wife’s body, and as soon as he threw her into the trench, he fell dead on top of her!”

Writ­ing this ar­ti­cle, I could not stop my tears for our folks in Syria, Ye­men, Libya and other places stricken with daily car­nage. The real dis­as­ter is that Hitler was not like a brother to the Rus­sians, while we are killing each other de­spite our fra­ter­nity and same re­li­gion! The baf­fling ques­tion, how­ever, re­mains: How much longer will this go on?!

— Trans­lated by Kuwait Times

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Kuwait

© PressReader. All rights reserved.