Razzia

The Sassistas! would like to acknowledge and thank half-a-sista for dishing today's sass.

A headline on the internet caught my attention:  "She is Beautiful."

Razzia is an eight-year-old girl in Afghanistan. Her face melted when white phosphorus (WP) landed in her home. Two sisters died. Five family members suffered serious wounds. The death, destruction, and disfigurement was, by definition, collateral damage.

Razzia was rushed to the nearest hospital where doctors tried to scrape dead tissue away, but flames shot out. WP sticks to surfaces, like skin, and burns until it’s gone. Nothing puts out the flame as long as it finds oxygen and something to burn.

The U.S. military spokesperson said, “Razzia will have the best care we can give her.” They flew her to an American military hospital 20 minutes away by helicopter. Flames still ate at her flesh. Burned over 40-45% of her body, she survived.

Fifteen surgeries later, horrific scars glare an angry red on her face and torso. She must wear a wig because her hair won’t grow in places due to the scarring. The medical staff worries that she won’t have a normal life in Afghanistan, a life already difficult because she is a  girl, a life that may be more difficult because of her disfigurement.

She returned home to her family. The attack destroyed the family home. Her father’s vegetable shop closed because he ran out of money. No one knows what will happen to her or her family.

I wrote down the headline, “She is beautiful.” When I returned to find the story, the title had been changed to: US Doctors Save Burned Afghan Girl. I guess someone had decided that the first headline demonstrated an insensitivity of huge proportions.

The story bothers me for several reasons. Who did this? The Americans? The French? The Taliban? Does it matter? All of the above use WP against civilians. The Chemical Weapons Convention does not designate WP as a chemical weapon. Why not? Who are we to think that we did something wonderful by saving Razzia’s life and creating a face composed of scars? Will we fix her in the coming years from the after effects of WP? I would like to talk with her in ten years to hear what she thinks.

Comments

[Flannista]

About two weeks ago -- out of the blue -- half-a-sista emailed me the above post, along with this message: "The attached piece is about a story that has affected me so deeply that I almost cry when I think about it." I share that to give you another glimpse into the heart of my beloved, half-a.

Thank you for bringing this story to my attention. I had not heard of it. Worse, I did not know what white phosphorus was; even worse, I did not know that it was being used as a chemical weapon -- and that the United States was among the countries that did NOT designate it as a chemical weapon. That horrified me. Of course, the horror is made all the more terrible because it took the face of Razzia.

I also think half-a asked some very provocative questions: "Who are we to think that we did something wonderful by saving Razzia's life and creating a face composed of scars?" I'd like half-a to answer his own question here. I, for one, would rather be alive than dead. However, we do kind of think we can fix anything in this country.

What do you think Razzia will say in 10 years?

(The image for this post, a bit hard to make out, is broken mirror pieces reflecting a girl -- I chose it precisely because it was not definable; reflecting perhaps, the ending to Razzia's story.)

[half-a-sista]

Who are we to think that we did something wonderful by saving Razzia's life and creating a face composed of scars? My answer: we fix everything so it will end happily like a Hollywood movie. (Rarely does it work.)

As to whether I would rather be alive than dead if I were in Razzia's place, I can't answer that question. I didn't suffer as much as she did. Most of us want to live rather than die, even when we believe in a Heaven to which we will go after our last breath. What's that saying? Everybody wants to see God, but nobody wants to die.

Likewise, I don't know what Razzia will say in 10 years. How many more surgeries will she need to relieve the stress on the scars as she grows into adulthood. Will we be there to make those revisions? I doubt it.

[Flannista]

half-a: what do you mean with this question: "Will we be there to make those revisions?" in your last paragraph?

[half-a-sista]

From my limited knowledge of scarring left by burns and how the tissue transplants work, the scars do not grow as the child's body grows. As a result the scars need "revision" every so often to accommodate the growth of the child.

In Razzia case, the scarring on her face and neck and upper torso is so extreme that she will need to have her scars "revised" as her body develops over the next 10 years or so, until she reaches adulthood. That will involve multiple surgeries. I wonder if plans have been made for those additional surgeries or if we fixed her and now she is on her own?

[Flannista]

Thanks for the clarification, half-a. I appreciate the research you did for this article -- actually, you're the sassosphere's research expert on so many things.

It was hard for me to open the link to the article which shows a photo of Razzia. There she is in traditional garb. She is a beautiful little girl, despite the scarring, no? Still, what an arduous journey ahead of her. What works so well about this piece, half-a -- is that you took a huge topic, like chemical weapons and made it personal through Razzia. It would have been easy to get on a soapbox and rant about chemical weapons. It's harder to step back and put yourself in Razzia's place.

America is a "can-do" nation. We can get to the moon, we can find a cure for cancer, we can fix the auto industry. Where did that come from? Why don't we just let things fail . . . like we've let health care fail. Why do we always have to be the world's savior?

[Chrysosistah]

Ouch - that poor baby. I wish we could move her and her family from that remote village to a place where she can receive the care she will need.

I have heard of white phosphorus, and if I recall correctly, the only way to prevent it burning is to submerse the person completely in water. Then the granules can be removed from the skin without further burning. But a very dangerous situation for all concerned. I had not heard it was being used as a weapon, but I'm not surprised - people can be so callous & cruel.

Half-a, considering the circumstances, what would you have had the soldiers do when presented with this poor child? Shoot her like a crippled horse? Of course they tried to help her, they did the best they could under wartime conditions. Of course the father would blame the int'l forces - think what would likely happen if he blamed the Taliban! They'd for sure come kill him and his family as soon as the western forces leave the area.

I hate the thought of our soldiers fighting in Afghanistan & Pakistan, those areas have never (to my knowledge) been successfully "conquered" and I doubt we will be any more successful. I understand why we are there - just wish there was a better way to rid us of these radical elements like the Taliban & al Queda. It is so lamentable that so many religious fundamentalists find it easier to hate than to love...

[half-a-sista]

Chryso, a part of me thinks the child should have been left to die rather than face a life with such a scarred face and body especially in a culture where she has several marks against her just for being a female. Another side of me wants her to live and triumph over her circumstances.

The biggest issue for me is our continued presence in her life (if her family wants it) to finish the "restoration" work we started. Was she a photo op moment and we won't provide services to her in the future? Did we do anything to return her to a stable family environment in light of having destroyed her home, put her dad out of business, and killed two of her sisters?

To me, it does not matter who used the white phosphorus device. The fact remains that the Americans and the French (several other countries and groups) use WP against civilians. Those instances have been documented. To not classify it as a chemical weapon mystifies me because it is one.

We supported the Taliban in Afghanistan. We armed them. We trained them. We wanted the Russians out of the area. The Taliban succeeded. Then we didn't like the Taliban. We wanted the people of Afghanistan to enjoy the fruits of democracy. The Taliban wanted them to enjoy the fruits of fundamentalist Islam. We turned on them. They turned our weapons on us. Now we have joined forces with Kharzi and his clan to conquer all of Afghanistan and rid the world of the Taliban (which we nurtured and supported. Did I say that already?).

Maybe that's the focus of the piece. We march into situations. "Fix" them and then march out. Or, we create a monster, unleash it, and then lament what it does. We try to fix it. Make things worse and wonder why the people of the world don't like us.

Flan, no, she is not a beautiful little girl on the outside, which is how most everyone who meets her will judge her. If you looked at the five pictures available on the link, you will see how they have surgically corrected her face and it isn't beautiful or pretty. Whatever beauty she has comes from inside her, but will her people get past the exterior.

Americans are the chosen people of God and we can do anything. We can fix any situation because we KNOW what we should do and we do it. We have been like that since those outcast religious groups came to America to escape the religious intolerance in their homelands that had been generated to some degree by the religious intolerance of the groups that came to America.

Appointed by the one and only god, we must save the world much like fundamentalists/evangelicals must save every soul or at least try endlessly to do so. It is our destiny and our demise.

[half-a-sista]

I realized too late that irony may be lost on a blog. I was sarcastic in writing about Americans as the "chosen people of God." I hope everyone got that. And I do not believe that we were appointed by any deity to save the world. I wanted to make those two things clear.

Razia (not Razzia) has returned home to...well, I don't know. Her father blames the coalition forces whether he believes that or says it to save his family from the Taliban forces (a good point made by Chryso). She becomes a walking poster child for coalition forces brutality either way.

War is not about being nice to people. It is about winning. While I disagree with the need for war (if we knew anything about diplomacy and selected political assasssinations), we should fight to win, not fight to win over the people. Brutal? You bet, but that's war.

We can win over the people after we crush them, but we rarely win over the people anymore.

[Jerseysista]

Oh, this is so hard. So hard to look at the photos. So hard to read the story. So hard to think of the misery multiplied so many times over the world.

I hope the impetus of the care given Razia was not for the media op. It seems from the article that once she was brought to the hospital she was the recipient of genuine loving care from the staff.

I hope (and believe) that in this world the barely noticed compassion of the care givers and others out weighs the pain and suffering. I wonder if Razia thinks so.

[Flannista]

I'm so sorry about the misspelling, half-a: I was going by the name of the document you sent. And I read the article you linked and everything! I feel a bit like another American has disrespected Razia! I've always taught in my writing workshops that one of the most simple way to affirm someone is to remember his or her name -- AND to spell it correctly.

I do think this is the focus of your piece: "We march into situations. 'Fix' them and then march out. Or, we create a monster, unleash it, and then lament what it does. We try to fix it. Make things worse and wonder why the people of the world don't like us."

I also want to put on my therapist's hat for a bit and ask if there's something about Razia that you personally identify with. Does something about her story dovetail with your own? Clearly, the pain you've experienced in the past has enlarged your heart. I would have read this story and been moved, but not moved enough to really wrestle with it. What hooked you so?

[Flannista]

Jersey -- you're onto something with "barely-noticed compassion". It is precisely this type of compassion that saves the world. As the poet Jack Gilbert writes in his poem, "The Abnormal is Not Courage":

*****
. . . I say courage is not the abnormal.
Not the marvelous act, but the evident conclusion of being.
Not strangeness, but a leap forward of the same quality.
Accomplishment. The even loyalty. But fresh.
. . . . the thing steady and clear. Then the crescendo.
The real form. The culmination. And the exceeding.
Not the surprise. The amazed understanding. The marriage,
not the month's rapture. Not the exception. The beauty
that is of many days. Steady and clear.
It is the normal excellence, of long accomplishment.
*****
These caregivers provided normal excellence, no?

[Flannista]

I should clarify: my AMATEUR therapist's hat.

[half-a-sista]

What hooked me was the original headline (that I remember) from the article when I first opened it in the morning, "She is Beautiful." The obscenity of that sentence struck me. This little girl was beautiful physically when she finished breakfast that morning, when she played in the yard with her sisters, when her father gathered his family in the house to stay out of the way of the coalition forces. In a few seconds her physical beauty melted from a device whose primary purpose is to lay down a smoke screen and not to be used against civilians.

The obscenity of saying that, after fifteen surgeries, we had made her beautiful, hit me the hardest. The little girl had done nothing to anyone and look what it got her. That's war. That's life. To trivialize it with that headline, "She is Beautiful" outraged me.

Then I got to thinking how much Americans (the only group with which I have experience) want to have happy endings, to take bad things and make them better if only for a moment when we can all gather and talk about how we have come together to repair the damage. We take photos, congratulate each other on our compassion, and leave the situation without looking bad. Our fixes don't always work.

Flann, don't beat yourself up over an extra "z" in her name. I didn't mention it because I didn't think it was that important. My bad. You, of all people, would not intentionally disrespect the girl.

As to how my personal experience dovetails with Razia's, I have not suffered anything as devastating as what she has. I know what it's like to be different in a world/country that doesn't value the difference. I have seen how people treat severely scarred kids and adults. I may have added to their pain myself.

I remember a man my father introduced me to. His face was a mass of scars. His looks frightened me, but he treated me okay. When I was alone with my father, I asked him why the man had such a disfigured face (I probably used the word "ugly"). My dad said that the man had worked for a cab company in our town. The cabs went on strike. The man didn't because he had a family to feed. The strikers had families to feed too, but they needed higher wages.

The man drove a cab out of the lot one day and was stopped by a crowd of his former co-workers. He didn't try to injure any of them. He pushed the cab slowly through the crowd. He rolled down his window to talk to the strikers. When he did, someone threw battery acid on his face. He lost the sight in one eye and became a hideously disfigured man who couldn't drive a cab anymore.

That story has stayed with me. We humans can and do inflict such cruelty (of all kinds) on people, animals, and the world over things that we believe are so important when they aren't. Maybe Razia's experience awoke the memory of that story. She didn't deserve what she has suffered or will suffer.

Maybe more of the connection will come as I think about it more.

Jersey, I don't think the care given to the child was for the media op. I think all of the pictures of her happily kicking a ball down the hospital hallway and wearing Princess socks and going home were media ops to make everyone feel good about what we had done. No doubt exists in my mind that many of the people who cared for her loved her and nurtured her, but why did it come to that in the first place? Did the person who fired the device think about the consequences of their action? Did they even have time to think?

In sociology class in college, the professor said, "Humans are killers by nature, just like all of the other animals. We have covered that instinct with a nice social facade, but sometimes that cracks and falls away."

"In the past we had to kill with knives and swords and bayonets which required us to get within striking range. We had to look at our enemies as we killed them. Then we developed guns which gave us a distance from our victims and allowed us to kill without looking our enemy in the eye."

"Now we have bombs and projectiles and other devices that allow us to kill huge numbers of people without ever coming into contact with them. That makes it easier to kill when the animal urge strikes us because we are killing people we haven't met and will never have to meet."

[half-a-sista]

jersey, I think the "barely noticed compassion" of people makes life more bearable. I doubt that it outweighs the pain and suffering. In Razia case, she suffered through hours of her skin burning and melting. She underwent 15 surgeries. She has scar tissue on 40-45% of her body which will need revision as she grows. I don't know how the compassion of her caregivers in that hospital will ever outweigh the pain and suffering she will endure. I don't think it will even touch it. That's why I want to talk with her in 10 years to see her and hear what she has to say.

[Matissta]

I really don't know how to respond to this post. I can't help but focus on Razia. I don't care at this point, who used WP and when. I do care that she was the victim and suffered such results.

There's no way to make what happened better, but I also think that the soldiers did behave properly in getting her help.

[Flannista]

Thanks half-a, for being so generous with what hooked you about Razia. The deeper story always fascinates me so. That cab driver, for example -- telling his story somehow gives him his dignity, don't you think? And telling Razia's does the same thing, yes? That's the power of storytelling.

You bring up another very interesting point about the evolution of warfare and how much easier it is to kill "when the animal urge strikes because we are killing people we haven't met, etc."

I remember clearly my experience of seeing the movie, "Glory" -- about the first company of black soldiers during the Civil War. I'm not certain I realized, up to that point, how close opposing armies fought back then. I mean, you could "see the whites of their eyes." I've always believed that fighting a battle should be like making love -- intimate -- one on one. If we could actually see the enemy, I'm not certain we would kill them so easily and/or lay down smoke screens so close to occupied villages.

[Flannista]

I wanted to share something that came up for me when reading about Razia. When my mother was in her twenties, she was a registered nurse and consistently volunteered to tend to severe burn victims when her colleagues begged out. She often spent the night next to their beds. I think it takes a special kind of grit and compassion to do that -- and the picture of her doing that helps to keep her not only human in my heart, but also humane.

I do not think I could have done it. I barely got through the article about Razia. But my mother sat there. Night after night. Looked at them. Talked to them. Touched them.

[half-a-sista]

Flann, why couldn't your mother do the same thing for you? It is the same question that I asked myself about my dead mother when people told me what an understanding saint she had been for them.

I don't think telling the story of the cab drive or Razia gives dignity to anyone. We can't undo what has been done, although we like to try. We want a happy ending, but what about a happy beginning, middle, and end? Or, at least, not a tortuous beginning, miserable middle, and bad end.

Matiss, I agree that the soldiers did behave properly in getting her help. We demonstrate unusually high levels of compassion. Most Americans are among the most compassionate, well-meaning people in the world.

[Flannista]

I can't answer for my mother, but knowing her reputation in the burn unit does give her more than one dimension. She's not a cartoon character. She's human. Maybe, like some of us, it is easier to help the stranger than those closest to us.

I disagree with you about telling both Razia's and the cab driver's story. It does give them their dignity. To paraphrase E.M. Forster's famous observation, a fact is, "The queen died and the king died." A story is, "The queen died and the king died of a broken heart." Your post just did not list the facts. It told Razia's story. We are all moved by her today. She is alive in our hearts. She has dignity.

[half-a-sista]

Flann, I want you to tell me why it is easier to help strangers than those closest to us. I want to know that it won't happen anymore with the people I love. I know that's asking a lot from a lot of people. I know that you probably cannot answer my question.

I hope that we are all moved to do something, however small. I hope that she remains alive in our hearts for a long time. I hope that she has dignity, love, and support in her life, however long it may be.

[Flannista]

I'm pondering your question, half-a. I'll get back to you.

[Jerseysista]

I agree the more often we accord others their due, their multi-dimensionalism, the more we grant them dignity. As we understand more of Razia’s story she becomes less of a symbol and more of an individual and gains dignity. As we learn more of your mother, Flann, she gains dignity. When you tell of your journey, it of necessity has included shameful aspects about your mother’s behavior but it has also included stories of her own hurt and damage. More important, when you have an opportunity, such as today, to tell simply your mother’s story, we see yet other dimensions of her compassion and empathy. You grant her dignity. By doing so, it shows more of the calm and confident security that is growing in you.

[half-a-sista]

jersey, your comments bring up an interesting comparison with the discussion of Michael Jackson yesterday. He wasn't all weirdness and perversion. He had a certain dignity which some people didn't seem willing to give him or his life.

I understand that people are multi-dimensional beings and that people are not all evil or all good. My mother was a mosaic of emotions and feelings. My question is, Why do we hurt the ones we love when we won't do those same things to strangers? Why do we inflict on our children our own shame and hatefulness instead of loving them unconditionally? Do we fear something? Do we know the power we possess to hurt them? Do we want them to suffer so we can feel better about ourselves? I don't know the answers and may never know.

I agree that the more we understand Razia's circumstance the more of an individual she becomes. Her life gains dignity in our eyes. I cannot grant dignity to anyone. I can respect their struggle.

[Flannista]

Thank you, Jersey. Your comment demonstrates once again, the importance of staying in steady dialogue -- no matter how painful -- in a community. I would not have remembered my mother's compassion, if half-a-sista hadn't written about Razia. Interestingly, while editing and publishing his post, that memory didn't appear. It appeared in the context of reading the comments -- specifically, half-a's memory of the cab driver. That story reminded me of that aspect of my mother's story. A community that can be a "holding presence," if you will -- for the good, the bad, and the ugly -- bad memories, good memories (not to mention good and bad judgments) is invaluable.

(Bear with me, half-a -- I sat down to respond to you, but then read Jersey's comment). Yesterday, the rector at the noon church service who had not seen me for at least four years said, "You're so much more calm now. What's going on?" The first thing I said to her was, "I'm working on telling my story." I then talked a bit about the blog. And Matiss, of course, whose gentle presence consistently gives me the courage to open doors I closed long ago to keep out the past.

Thank you again, Jersey, for naming what you see. It is a gift.

[Chrysosistah]

I suspect that part of the reason Razia's story has been told in the Western media is to attempt to counterbalance the Arab media/street that the "USA is the Great Satan". To at least attempt to let people know that we are not animals, but generally good people - that we do care about the people and want to help. I think most Americans (really, most people) presented with an injured child, would try and do whatever they could to help.

I think most people would agree that getting involved with the Taliban in the first place was a bad idea - although it's important to remember the context that it was a small thing at the time, something designed to frustrate/annoy the USSR back in 1979, when we were also having major issues with Iran. Of course, we weren't the only country involved in supporting them, although it seems to be remembered thus. I'm sure the mujahideen are very pleased with themselves because they've frustrated the best armies in the world. Wouldn't be surprised if within their own groups they see themselves as revolutionaries like we were in 1776; or like Davie Crockett with the TexMex war. I pity the poor citizens of that region who would prefer to simply farm their plot of land and live their lives in peace - sounds like they've gone generations without peace.

My stepdad served in Vietnam, and on at least one occasion had to fight another man hand-to-hand. I sincerely doubt I'll ever hear the whole story, and I'm quite sure he has never gotten over that horrific experience.

Perhaps helping strangers is easier because it is less complicated - we don't know (and don't need to know) their backstory to give a blanket, a cup of soup, or medical care to someone injured. The more you know, the easier it becomes to start judging or critiquing their past actions. Probably why we laud people such as Sister Teresa, who knew the people well and stayed anyway to do whatever good she could.