Nader fills vivid colors into human drama
Life in captivity changed his outlook on life
This is the second in a series of articles on Nader Abdul Hameed Saleh Mohammed Al Faras, an aeronautic engineer and retired colonel in the Kuwait Airforce and a gifted painter.
– Editor
Nader began to experiment with strong, vibrating, pure form of coloring when he was taken prisoner to Iraq; the suffering, the tension and the longing incidental to a life of captivity in the Iraqi military camps was an experience that profoundly changed his outlook on life, indeed it changed his whole purpose in painting conditioning him to look at the human drama in a broader perspective that prompted him to choose vivid colors instead of tints.
His adventure began in the early morning of that black Thursday, the 2nd of August 1990, at the inception of the Iraqi invasion.
He was at home in Jabriya, when he was urgently called to the Ahmed Al Jaber Airbase, located ten miles south of Ahmadi; within minutes he was on his way. At his arrival at the base most of his colleagues were already at work in setting the jet-planes ready for take-off late that night.
To prevent any aircraft from takingoff or landing, the Iraqis had already destroyed the runway of all the airports but the road behind the airbase, used by patrolling cars at night was still intact.
All through the day Nader and his companion worked frantically; at past midnight 30 jet planes took off one after another in quick succession, only the three aircraft that needed extensive repairing had to be left behind.
When in the early morning the Iraqis arrived, the operation was completed.
At about that time the telephone line went dead; Nader had no way of contacting his family.
Instructed beforehand not to engage in battle, because of the superior force they were against, Nader and his companions surrendered.
Officers were separated from private soldiers; Nader and the other officers were taken by bus to a fire station ten miles away. Not knowing what to expect and how the situation would develop everyone was quiet.
Anxious
Wrapped into him Nader was brooding over what would happen to him and to his companions.
He was particularly anxious about his family and what would happen to his people in those terrible circumstances.
Thinking about his children still peaceful asleep when he left home, he felt a chill in his heart, worrying about their safety, not knowing when, if ever he would see them again.
The Iraqi invasion had effectively destroyed every dream he had about the redemption of Arab dignity on which he had been nurtured from his early school days; the whole affair made him bitterly disappointed and angry.
Still he hanged on the hope the situation would soon be resolved and he and his companions would be released, but when on the next morning they were all taken to Iraq to the Rasheedi camp near Baghdad, every hope of being released vanished.
At the prison camp Nader and his companions spent three weeks in deplorable conditions, for the place lacked all kind of basic necessities: there were only two toilets for 650 prisoners, the filth was appalling, food consisted of few dates and a piece of bread too hard to swallow.
Escape was impossible; for the prison wasa complex in which one camp was within another, which in turn was within a third one and so forth.
On the night of his arrival Nader was suffering from an agonizing kidney condition caused by the combined effect of intense heat, the polluted water he drank on the way and the growing tension.
A doctor gave him some medication, but only towards morning he felt some relief.
From the first to the last day of his captivity, till he was finally released by the Red Cross in early March, hunger was his constant companion.
At the Rasheedi camp in particular the food was so scant that if not reached in time to snatch a morsel, it quickly disappeared the moment it was brought in though far from being appetizing.
The bread was so hard that Nader broke a tooth trying to bite on it, consequently all through the eight months of his ordeal of suffering severe tooth-ache gave him no rest.
On the 26th of August Nader and his companions left the Rasheedi camp and were taken by train to Mosul.
From the station to their new destination they traveled in open lories, hence, presuming they were Iraqi POWs returning home from Iran, the people were waving and cheering at them.
Seeing the happy smile of children, Nader was moved to tears thinking of his little ones, not knowing what was happening to them, praying that no harm would come to them and to be soon reunited.
The camp at Mosul was a far cry from the Rasheedi camp; previously occupied by Iranian POWs, who left on the 22nd of August, Nader and his companions could find among the rubbish some useful items they could use especially blankets even clothing when the cooler weather set in.
Discover
Nader’s delight was to discover a school exercise book on which from the very next day of his arrival he began sketching his impression of the place and the life of his companions.
At their arrival the men organized themselves in military fashion into groups of seventy, each subdivided into smaller groups of ten men. Twenty men volunteered to work in the kitchen preparing the food, the two doctors among them took over the clinic.
Other groups were taking care of the vegetable garden left by the Iranian POWs and keep the place clean and tidy in turn.
Besides their daily routine, the men found other ways of keeping themselves occupied, some playing, others engaging their creativity in artifacts.
One of the officers was chosen to be the leader, another was appointed to check the counting of the prisoners in the morning, afternoon and evening attended by an Iraqi officer.
Nader got busy drawing, registering everything that was going on at the camp, when he began with the portrait of his colleagues he was working eight hours nonstop.
His first work was “The Black Thursday” a symbolic interpretation of the Arab dilemma.
Although it was merely a sketch, the work caught the admiration of his companions, who spread the word around that there was an artist among them. Everyone wanted to see the work and what next Nader was producing.
Pleased with their reaction, Nader became more enthusiastically involved with his work, capturing the fleeting moods of the life around him, portraying the feelings and emotions of his companions and the industrious activity at the camp.
Luckily the Iraqis never carried out surprise inspections that would have jeopardized his work.
He was delighted when the officer responsible of the counting was given two pads for keeping notes. One of the pads was given to Nader to carry on his work.
Companions
Though sketching with growing enthusiasm, Nader was worried that the Iraqis would eventually discover his activity, hence he felt relieved when on the 6th of November he and his companions were moved to Beaquba near Baghdad; by then in Mosul the temperature had dropped to freezing point.
Though Beaquba was warmer than Mosul, in mid December when the chilly weather set-in Nader and his companions had to burn anything they could find to keep warm.
From the 29th of November the prisoners were allowed to receive visitors; that was Nader’s chance to smuggle out his artwork and get the material he needed.
Relieved from the worry of being discovered and with more adequate material to work with, Nader began drawing with greater enthusiasm, producing beautiful paintings in pastel, making portraits of his companions, which at first he was reluctant to do.
By the time he was released, he had produced 180 portraits besides 45 drawings and paintings. Among the finest examples are “Evil Resolutions”, “The Black Thursday”, and “The Last Step of the Game”. The latter was made during the last phases of the invasion, before the war of liberation was implemented.
On the radio smuggled-in by some visitors listening to the latest developments leading to a war, everyone was in an excited mood, speculating when the war would begin.
Nader captured the mood in various drawings, making his own conclusion in a painting in which the political scenario, like a chess game, was coming to an end in the final move.
To be continued