"Summejar Nona Pethyou", was how Mam Nona preferred to be addressed by those who dared to question his proud military background. Mam Nona was actually a Sergeant Major in the Third Battalion of the British Levies force stationed in Habaniya base in Iraq. After this crack force was dissolved, " Summejar Nona Pethyou op de Tird Buttayoun" was discharged along with his colleagues, the RabTrimmeh and the Rab Immeh {First and Second Lieutenants} to simply fend for themselves and their families in an environment turned hostile against there very existence.

After his beloved wife Panna had passed away, he moved to Baghdad with his son Youel. Youel supported his spouse and a handful children with his meager salary as an English language typist working for a rich Arab textiles importer. In spite of this financial hardship, Youel still regarded himself lucky to have landed such a job that required special talents which only a few had cared to acquire. He remained thankful to the British army for having afforded him a chance to learn the English language while serving as a waiter at the British officers’ club in Habaniya. In appreciation, Youel had dedicated part of his bed time prayer specifically to ask the Lord Jesus Christ to save the Queen and the royal family and to render the Crown for ever strong and prosperous... As far as his mastering the keys of the old Underwood typewriter, he thankfully credited Rabi Narsai, the head typist in the offices of the British Central Intelligence Bureau in Habaniya for such a blessing. For a nominal fee, this kind and most learned man in Habaniya tutored dozens of young and ambitious Assyrians living in the base who, otherwise, would have ended within the ranks of the rest of Habaniya youth lacking both a formal education and a trade that would help them secure a decent living.

The family settled in Tel Mohammed, a district of small row houses of low income earners mostly Assyrians, sharing the second floor with another Assyrian family. The two bedrooms and a tiny hall, the family called the living room, were by no means sufficient to accommodate such a big family. However, given the very low rent they had to pay, coupled with the convenience of being within a stone’s throw from the schools the kids attended, they thanked their Christian God for His blessing and never dared to question His wise plans. As for the oldest children, Sargon and Bawil, they could not have been any happier; and for a good reason. They were chosen to share their tiny room with their grandfather, an advantage if you will, which would entitle them to a bed time story or two every night. And Mam Nona, willing as usual to please his grand children, would deliver in style as he would sit between the two beds, with his shiny brown boots still tightly on, telling them about Qattineh. The epic of Qattineh, passed on to him by his own grandfather, extolled the heroic deeds of this Assyrian warrior in Hakkari Mountains, who fought and conquered the beast that dwelled in the "Guippah" {the dreaded cave}.

Tucked in their beds, the two kids would sense the shivers running through their tiny bodies as they would slowly drift into a deep sound sleep. After ensuring that the kids were adequately covered, Mam Nona would then quietly take off his much valued boots, and gently place them next to his mattress on the floor where he slept.

Mam Nona’s attachment to his boots goes back to the days of "Raqqa" { the Assyrian Exodus during world war I}. He had just returned to his village "Eiel" from an unsuccessful venture to the remote city of Bacco in Russia in search of employment. He had set on this journey with his cousin Warda in a desperate attempt to bring the much needed cash to help feed their very poor folks. Having exhausted every avenue of finding employment, the two resorted to pan handling, which also did not prove at all successful. Finally, it was Mam Nona’s brilliant idea to appeal to the orthodox religious feelings of the Russians. Following a quick rehearsal, the two perfected a sentimental gig. Holding the cross in one hand while uttering some heart wrenching wails, the Russians presumed to be hymns, Mam Nona graciously accepted the generous donations thrown in the hat he held with the other hand. Following a few weeks of the successful performance of their act, they decided that they had collected enough Munnuteh {as they termed the money} to pay for their trip home. Not discouraged by this unsuccessful venture, the two promised each other that their next attempt would be America.

Their plan to sail to America, however, never did materialize. For they had been home for only less than a year when the village elders ordered the whole tribe to abandon their belongings and join the rest of the Assyrian villagers fleeing the Kurdish campaign of genocide against them in Hakkari mountains. Given such a short notice, the men, women and children were left with the only option of grabbing whatever valuables they could carry and simply run for their lives. Mam Nona’s worn out "Charookheh"{ a pair of hand woven woolen shoes with one layer of a thin sheep’s skin} lasted only a few days as he trekked down the rough terrain. Fighting the enemy on the one hand and assisting the weak and the elderly on the other hand, Mam Nona contended with what remained of his worn out woolen socks until he arrived in Baqubah along with the fortunate Assyrians who survived the blood thirsty barbarians. Had it not been to his strong built, this stocky five foot four in the prime of his youth would have perished while on the run as was the destiny of scores of the frail and malnutritioned Assyrian youth. Never dismissing the possibility of yet another Raqqah, ever since then, Mam Nona would depart from his boots only when he would go to bed. Even then, he would see to it that his boots were readily accessible . And in preparation for such contingencies, he did insure that his strong leather boots would, at all times, be maintained based on his own specifications which called for thick double layered soles. Besides, as an ex Summejar, Mam Nona could never fancy wearing any other kind of footwear. To that end, he dedicated part of his morning chores, besides standing in line to grab a dozen of the cheap Samoon Askari {Army bread as termed by the poor}, Mam Nona would spit and polish his boots. And when the soles would show signs of wear and tear, he would rush them for prompt and professional mending to Vartan, his half Armenian and half Assyrian friend; the best shoemaker in all Tel Mohammed.

The repairs were always done free of charge. Vartan respected Mam Nona immensely and still addressed him as Summejar Nona, as he did in his youth as a soldier under his command. Besides, Vartan’s best spent hours during the day were those when Mam Nona would pop in for a cup of his favorite strong Sergeant Major’s tea, and the two would reminisce the good old times as soldiers in the army of Her Majesty, the Queen of Great Britain!!! Better yet, Mam Nona could still recite the poem he had composed lauding the great attributes of the British crown.. Vartan enjoyed the symbolism in the part of the poem where Mam Nona depicts Great Britain as a white and charming bear that has no equals, whereas, Russia is depicted as a yellow bear well known for her bravery. Recited in his typical Eielnayeh accent, Mam Nona’s face would turn red with excitement as he would thus recite, " Enggilland ki madmeyinah il kha dibba khwarta, go khowrawatah ella eh beesh shitranta; Roossiyah ki madmeyinah il kha dibba zardeh, go khowrawatah ella eh beesh mardeh,,,, Tra ra ra ra Passagh Lakama". He would then point out to Vartan how, after his recitation that was simultaneously interpreted, the British commander of the base had immediately promoted "Coappil Nona Pethyou"{Corporal Nona Pethyou} to "Summejar" {Sergeant Major}.

It was during one of his visits to Vartan’s shoe repair shop that he heard of this first Assyrian in Iraq to be appointed as cabinet minister. Although ,to Mam Nona,the name Tariq Aziz did not sound at all Assyrian, Vartan assured him that his reliable sources had confirmed to him that Mr. Aziz was indeed an Assyrian. According to Vartan’s sources, Mr. Aziz had openly renounced his ethnicity choosing to be called Arab instead of Assyrian. In fact, his zeal as a Bathist Arab {a proponent of the Arab renaissance} had prompted him to spearhead the drive to change all the history books. Thus, all the historic facts about the greatness of the Assyrian Empire and Assyrians as a distinct nation were being revised to suit the claims that "Bet Nahren," the ancient Land Between the Two Rivers was an Arab land. Despite Mam Nona’s illiteracy, one thing that no historian, or for that matter no Arabized Assyrian minister would dare convince him of, was that this land did ever belong to Arabs in any shape or form. On this issue, his vision was clear as a whistle. He knew that the Arabs came from the desert of Arabia as invaders. He also knew that as a result of the Arab expansion to spread their Muslim religion, scores of his Assyrian forefathers were either murdered or forcibly converted to Islam. Such barbaric conquer of the land in the name of religion caused the population of the Assyrians, the original dwellers of this blessed land, to dwindle to the dangerous levels of a near extinction.

To Mam Nona it was not only the anger that was building inside his frail body but a total disappointment and that bitter feeling of betrayal. He was also shocked by Mr. Aziz’s latest rebuff of the Chaldean Patriarch who had pleaded to change the latest education policy that would force the Christian students to study the Koran. At eighty plus years, he had accepted the fact that his generation had missed the chance of being recognized by the successive governments in Iraq to be the indigenous inhabitants of the land between the two rivers, not to mention their love and their attachment to their land. He had difficulty accepting the fact that the day would actually come when an Assyrian would turn against his fellow persecuted people if and when he would get the chance to assume such a high post. Mam Nona’s stance stemmed from the fact that, like many generations before him, his generation had been deprived of a peaceful living and had been the target of calculated and cold blooded massacres aimed at their very existence as a unique nation as well as Christians. Strangely enough, his generation had not only been branded as the trouble makers, but also as "Collaborators" with the British occupiers. Little did these successive governments care to admit that the country they called Iraq was founded and aided by non other than the British they hated.

As for the so called "Collaborators", the British had enlisted a horde of money and power hungry Arabs who played such a role perfectly well, without the need to solicit the Assyrians for help. In fact, had it not been for the Great Britain, these nomad Arab collaborators would have remained on the run fleeing the cruelty of the equally savage Ottoman Turks. And yes, the British expected the Assyrian collaboration only to shield them from the wrath and the anger of those loyal to other foreign powers and the downtrodden who did not stomach the British presence on their soil. In return, they guaranteed the Assyrian Levies, pittance of a conscription pay barely enough to keep their families from starvation. Furthermore, these governments had also ignored the well known fact that what had befallen these persecuted Assyrians had been due to the religious intolerance of the Arabs, Kurds, Turks, and Persians. In the face of such religious attacks and the betrayal of their Russian allies, the Assyrians had been left with no choice but to accept the British offer for a safe haven in Baqubah as their only hope for survival.

Ironically , Baqubah soon proved to be nothing but a concentration camp to the exhausted and weary Assyrians who were to cope with yet a harsher reality. Being motivated by the British promises to be resettled in their ancestral villages, the Assyrian conscripts soon fell prey to the manipulation of the British to fight the war of both the British and the Arabs waged against the Kurds in their uprising for independence in northern Iraq. In pursuit of the Kurdish Sheikh Barzanchi, Mam Nona still recalled how the Assyrian Levies, to the pleasant surprise and satisfaction of both, the British and the Arabs, easily defeated the Kurdish rebels in Rawandouz, thus restoring the much needed law and order. And when the Arabs, sympathetic to the Nazis, rebelled against the British and attacked the British base in Habaniya, merely threatening their political and economic interests, it was the Assyrian Levies’ courageous men who successfully thwarted these Nazi’s advance and eventually caused their embarrassing retreat to Baghdad. However, when the Assyrians demanded the fulfillment of the promise given to them, the British paid them back by handing them over in Semele to Bakir Sedqi and his vengeful ragtag army to be slaughtered in one of the most horrible acts of ethnic cleansing in Iraq’s history.

Driven by the religious hatred of the Assyrians as Christians, and the struggle for power between the power hungry Iraqi cabinet ministers, these acts of cold blooded murder, rape and pillage waged against the helpless Assyrian families had turned into a daily ritual. These "Nomads in army uniforms", trained by the Turks in Istanbul to serve their corrupt empire, and now aided by the British, had ensured that whenever their own personal and tribal interests were threatened, the Assyrians would automatically be blamed and viciously punished. Fortunately to them, their unfounded accusations of innuendoes and lies about the Assyrians, had found a receptive public that was 90% Muslim and 90% illiterate who easily believed them. To this end, their propaganda machine of slander and the call for a Jehad against the infidels finally paid off. With the British assuming the role of someone taken by the sudden turn of events, the Assyrians, stripped of their weapons, were massacred during a frenzy that lasted three days. Mam Nona still recounting the 1933 Semele massacre of the Assyrians, cursed the British army for their unfulfilled promises, and the dubious role they had played. Moreover, cringing his loosely fit dentures, Mam Nona could never utter the name of Rasheed Alli AlGailany without a well chosen Assyrian curse.

His hatred for this Iraqi prime minister was shared by every Assyrian who had been aware of his alliance with Hitler, while in the meantime enjoying the British treatment as their spoilt and untamed child. His manipulation of King Faisal I, the weakling imported king from the desert of Saudi Arabia on the one hand, and the not so brilliant Iraqi public on the other hand, this villain of a prime minister succeeded in inflicting the worst possible atrocities against the Assyrians. This butcher, as Mam Nona loved to call him, managed also to manipulate a segment of the Assyrians to serve his main purpose of antagonizing the Assyrian Patriarch, Mar Shimon,to eventually cause his deportation from Iraq. To this end, he successfully rallied the support of a few corrupt leaders; well chosen for their religious and political differences with the Patriarch. Moreover, he aided and supported the Assyrians who had distanced themselves from the mainstream Assyrian nation by claiming to be Christian Arabs, or merely Chaldeans.

To those, and probably Mr. Aziz’s family being one of them, a multitude of opportunities had been made available . Their children, carrying Arab names, had easy access to higher education, besides, many hand picked families were simply made rich and powerful. As for the Assyrians, the likes of Mam Nona who had remained faithful to their Assyrian language and heritage and kept their faith as members of the Assyrian Church of the East, and more importantly named their children Assyrian names, chances of any advancement or fair treatment were non existent. Mam Nona’s latest encounter with such acts of outright discrimination were in the mid 1960’s when the government of Taher Yahya so shamelessly interfered in the internal affairs of the Assyrian Church of the East. As a result, Assyrians were denied access to their churches thus forcing them to hold their masses in rented halls. As a devout member of this ancient church of the East; the church that had been instrumental in enlightening the Arabs by means of translating from Greek and Latin into Arabic all the books of science and philosophy , Mam Nona could never understand such concerted campaigns of harassment from a government that was expected to be neutral in handling the religious differences amongst the faithfuls of a denomination. And now the news about this so-called Assyrian having assumed such a high position, merely added to his bewilderment and confusion. He could not, for the life of his, understand why would an Assyrian purposefully, and for no justifiable reason cause his very oppressed people further suffering. Mam Nona had always dreamed of the day Assyrians would be recognized as citizens with rights and responsibilities, encluding if at all possible, a ministerial position offered to a capable Assyrian. And now that such an opportunity had presented itself, he was at loss, desperately seeking an answer as to why this "Litta" {damned} was so intent on harassing instead of helping his own people.

With every additional news about this latest curse of a cabinet minister that had befallen our Assyrian nation, Mam Nona’s desire to have a face to face encounter with this "Litta" would gain more and more momentum. Tariq Aziz had suddenly become Mam Nona’s worst enigma. He would never seize to think of this "Litta" in an attempt to try to find one valid reason that would justify his behavior. For hours at times, he would sit in the tiny bedroom on those steaming hot July afternoons, while desperately ignoring the noisy humming of the table fan thinking of nothing but this new puzzle that was impacting the final years of his long journey in life. And the more he thought of him, the greater his desire to have a close look at this creature. He did, however, admit to himself that Mr. Aziz was neither the first nor would he be the last to give up his identity for whatever reason. In his own limited knowledge, he figured that since at least one third of our nation had chosen to be called Chaldeans or Christian Arabs instead of Assyrians, then would it not be a logical choice by this only -for-Arabs government to encourage such rift amongst Assyrians in order to serve its chauvinistic policy? In fact, such clever appointment could prove to be the straw that would brake the camel’s back. For Mr. Aziz would not only stand as a living truth to the allegations that Iraq is made of Arabs and Kurds and a minority of Christian Arabs to which this Litta belongs, but would thwart any attempts by the Assyrians to be recognized as a nation. At eighty plus, Mam Nona wished that he would be taken, even for a short time, back to the youthful days of his military service; his vocabulary then did not contain the word "Fear" at all. As a soldier, he only heeded the command "charge", and the rest was simply a scene of a brave man in action. His ears had been trained to the sound of bullets, the deafening explosion of canons and the gut wrenching screams for help of the elderly, the women and the children he had so gallantly defended. And if this wish to regain his youth was not at all possible, he would then settle for a few moments of face to face encounter with this sleazy person who speaks with a lisp.

One block away from his house, the tea house{Chaykhana}that was owned and operated by Aram, nicknamed Foxy, bustled from 7am to past midnight with the unemployed Assyrians of all ages. These men who, on several occasions had been drafted anywhere from a few months to a few years to serve a government that would so callously deny them their status as bona fide citizens, were now left jobless and nothing to look forward to. In fact they had been living in constant horror of being picked at any moment and thrown on the Iranian borders as undesirables, better termed as Tabaeya Iraniya-Iranian nationals. Paradoxically, none of them or their parents had ever been to Iran; these abused human beings were born and raised on this soil they called home and worshipped next to God. For as long as they could not produce the proper documentation to prove their citizenship, a matter that was made impossible by the successive Iraqi governments in their flagrant attempts to wipe out the Assyrian identity, these men had lost every opportunity to embark on a gainful employment in the public service with the government being the sole employer. Meanwhile, the Arabs, Kurds and those claiming to be Christian Arabs would have every opportunity of picking and choosing the public service positions that would meet their needs and desires, any time and anywhere. These fortunate citizens had no difficulty producing the needed documentation to prove that they were Iraqi citizens; thousands who were nowhere near being Iraqis miraculously managed to prove that they were first generation Arab Iraqis.

Yet, for the Assyrians to obtain such documents, a trip to Mousel, where the infamous registry of the Assyrians accused of crossing the border into Syria in 1933 was kept, would be the most daunting task and the most horrible experience. Again, and in order that the job of denying the Assyrians this much valued document was perfectly undertaken, a so called Christian Arab official had been entrusted with the task of terrorizing the Assyrians in his most sadistic way. Oftentimes, and despite of the proof of a clean record, the documents would mysteriously disappear, or the names and dates of birth would be openly tampered with leaving the Assyrians with the choice of going through a longer and tormenting red tape or simply giving up; oftentimes, these Assyrians would choose the latter. Meanwhile, they would watch thousands of Egyptians, the majority of whom with backgrounds as pimps or first class criminals being hired on the spot simply because they happened to be Arabs. Some lucky Assyrian youth managed, however, to get jobs with foreign companies doing business in Iraq; jobs that no one would be interested in taking. Yet due to the temporary nature of these jobs, the Assyrians would be constantly on the move in search of such limited opportunities.

Mam Nona would watch these young, able bodied Assyrians wasting their energies all day playing dominos or shooting pool. He had the respect of everybody as they would seat him close to their game’s action and always pay for his tea. Few had confided to him about their marital problems. He soon realized that the majority of their problems had been due to the burden that was now being shouldered by their wives; they had to go and work as maids in the homes of the rich or the elite Baath party members. Paradoxically, the Assyrian women did not meet with any competition or discrimination to fill such menial positions. In fact the demand on them was so big, often the Assyrian woman would face serious verbal or physical abuse by the family that would loose her as a maid to a more powerful one. The abuse also included great many instances of rape and sexual abuse by the male members of the whole family. And a few of these unfortunate women did actually end up as prostitutes as a result of the guilt they felt towards the husbands or parents that they once cared for. As for the young sons of the powerful Baath party members, the pass time they seemed to enjoy most was their harassment of these women whenever they encountered them. Mam Nona was also made aware of a few who had simply vanished from the face of the earth. A despondent husband of one of them had his own chair reserved for him in a corner of the Chaikhana. He would sit there all day staring blankly at the TV screen in front of him, totally oblivious of the outside world.

Gewargis, nick named "Jadji" was one such unemployed youth. A highly intelligent man , and a very skilled player of snooker, Jadji had obtained his grade 12 diploma with an above average mark, but since he could not produce his needed documents to obtain his citizenship papers which would enable him to enroll in a university, he ended up as a conscript in the army serving more than five consecutive years in northern Iraq fighting the Kurds. In fact his younger brother Toma, who was drafted two years after him, was killed by the Kurds. There was even the rumor that Toma was shot by his own officer who was known for his hatred of the Assyrians. Jadji, however, would not dare discuss this with anybody fearing for his own life. Only once he confided to Mam Nona, that the story had some truth to it, and he was carrying out his own investigation with the help of an underground Assyrian youth movement. And Mam Nona’s reaction to all that was a deep sigh and a sharp penetrating look in Jadji’s eyes. To Jadji, this look was the blessing and the support he would expect from the man he considered a real hero. Besides, now that Jadji had discovered Mam Nona’s obsession with Tariq Aziz, he felt it his duty to read and translate to Assyrian every news item about this enigma that would appear in the daily Arabic newspapers. This way, Mam Nona kept current with all the information about Mr. Aziz that would satisfy his curiosity.

And when he learned that Mr.Aziz had been carrying out random tours of the districts of Baghdad allegedly listening to the concerns the people expressed on the day to day issues, Mam Nona asked Jadji if Tel Mohammed would happen to be on his schedule. Jadji was in no position to tell since such trips made by high ranking Baath party officials were never announced. The motorcade of a dozen shiny black Mercedeses would at any time disturb the peace of a neighborhood by a sudden invasion of Uzi carrying commandos who would cover such sleazy looking VIP’s meanwhile their machine guns would be aimed at the unarmed citizens of all ages. Therefor, it was a matter of when Mam Nona would not only finally see this high ranking Assyrian, but hopefully to have a few words with him. Jadji, trying not to disappoint Mam Nona assuming that Mr. Aziz would not be interested in talking to an old Assyrian who could not speak Arabic, explained that the man was under constant observation by the party security who would listen and report everything he would say. And since Mam Nona could only speak Assyian, chances of Mr. Aziz reciprocating would be too slim. In fact, if he did show some desire to start some conversation with Mam Nona, Mr. Aziz would then need an interpreter so that the security forces would know what is being said besides the fact that Mr. Aziz never practiced his Assyrian language since his involvement with the Arab Baath party. Meanwhile, Mam Nona remained hopeful that things would change in his favor, if he would ever get the chance of meeting Mr. Aziz in his neighborhood.

Around 11 am, on a very pleasant March day, Mam Nona, after completing his daily ritual of standing in line to receive the allotted army buns-Samoon Askary- for his son’s family, and after polishing his much valued army boots, he made his first stop at the Chaikhana for a cup of tea. As usual, he listened carefully to Jadji as he went over the main topics in the day’s newspaper. It did bother him a bit that there was no mention of Mr. Aziz at all. He wondered if the man, with too much in his hands, had decided to discontinue his tours; or was it something else, probably more serious that might have happened to him. Whatever the reason, Mam Nona was still eager and very much interested in knowing. The fact is that he did not need to wait for an explanation any longer.

The sudden quietness that prevailed in the Chaikhana attracted Mam Nona’s attention. As he looked towards the main entrance, he realized why every single Assyrian packing the place stood mesmerized as this short and stocky man stood at the door surrounded by his entourage of well armed special forces. It was Aram-Foxy- who took the initiative . With a big pretentious smile on his face, Foxy walked with both hands extended to shake the hands of this unexpected visitor. Whether it was his guest, Mr. Aziz’s decision not to reciprocate, or part of the protocol that was strictly followed by the vicious looking body guards, Foxy found himself thrown few feet back. For a second, Foxy’s memory took him back to Habaniya days where, as a youth, he had been a major source of headache to the British military police whose job was to maintain the law and order.

Those "Appisereh"{Officers} were angels compared to what he was facing now. In the case of the British officers, he would punch the lights out of a few of them before they would manage to overpower him using the clubs, which would hurt to a certain degree. It was these British officers who had given Aram his nick name Foxy due to the smart tricks he played to elude them However, this time things were far too different. These robot like maniacs were trigger happy and waiting for that small mistake to offer them the excuse of using their Uzi guns. Foxy, now in his mid sixties was far different; after all he was running a profitable business, therefor, he had to accept this little inconvenience from the part of a customer!!! He finally managed to bring his 250 pounds body as vertically as he could mumbling few words of apology in his broken Arabic.

Undisturbed, Mr. Aziz with his usual cunning smile, asked Foxy for his name. Without any hesitation, Foxy responded that his name was Aram, but he was better known to all as Foxy. With his mouth wide open, Mr. Aziz asked him if he had any idea what that meant in English. Feeling more at ease, Foxy sheepishly confirmed that it meant "Taala" in Assyrian, or "Tha’alab" in Arabic. Only then, Mr. Aziz realized that he had visited the place he should never have. "So you are an Assyrian from Habaniya, heh?" was Mr. Aziz’s sarcastic response. Instantly and without thinking, Foxy reached to pat him on the shoulder as his way of admiring Mr. Aziz’s cleverness. Again, Foxy found himself flat on the floor; this time bleeding profusely through his mouth. As two of the thugs dragged Foxy to a corner to be looked after by a few patrons, Mr. Aziz’s attention was attracted to this old man with large pointed white mustache. " I assume you can’t speak Arabic too, can you?" Jadji stepped in and told "Rafeeq"{Comrade} Aziz that he would be more than happy to translate, if his excellency would allow him to do so. Still staring at Mam Nona, Mr. Aziz asked Jadji for Mam Nona’s age. Mam Nona replied that he could only remember that during the Raqqa, he was only a youth in his late teens. To translate the word Raqqa, Jadji had to brief Mr. Aziz about the Assyrian nation’s exodus and the eventual loss of two thirds of their number before arriving at Baqubah in Iraq. Without showing any emotions, Mr. Aziz demanded to know if Mam Nona had ended up as a Levy "Abu Reesha"{ Levies known to Iraqis by the distinguished feather on their hats}, and if he had fought for the British against the Arabs.

Sensing that this man had just found his long awaited chance to degrade his own people, Mam Nona quietly pointed to his belly and said, "I had to eat and feed my otherwise starving family". Becoming more excited, Mam Nona went on to say, " All we wanted as a nation was to live peacefully in our ancestral land in Hakkari mountains; we did not ask or look for any favors from no one. For centuries, we toiled on the soil we worshipped, tough living, yet we enjoyed every moment of it. Had it not been for the religious and sectarian hatred, Assyrians would not have had to abandon their homes and end up begging the mercy of a foreigner who was there for one reason and that was to serve his own interests." Before Mr. Aziz could interrupt this unexpected lecture, Mam Nona was quick to say, " You, Mr. Aziz should know better than anyone else in the government what your ancestors have gone through. Now don’t tell me that your parents never happened to mention why just one segment of the Assyrian population experienced such hardships since mid 19^th century, whereas those who had the protection of the Vatican and had identified themselves as Arab Christians were left intact." Mam Nona went on to say, " Let me ask you, your excellency, if our struggle for survival as a nation is regarded as a crime, then forgive me to say that the Arabs and all the other nations fighting for their independence should be equally regarded as criminals. And in order to survive, the choice made available by the British was, in our view, the lesser of the two evils.". A moment of deadly silence had passed before Mr. Aziz could finally recover ; addressing Jadji, he commanded, " tell this man that Assyrians are extinct as a people; they disappeared when their empire collapsed. Today’s Iraq is made of Muslim Arabs, and a small minority of Christian Arabs. " He then went on to say, " You need to open the new history books written by Iraq’s best historians. They are the ones who could tell the truth, not the Western books that are full of lies." Hearing such a statement from a government official proved to be too provoking and enough grounds for Jadji to voice his own personal opinion, thus for a moment, he ignored Mam Nona. Addressing Mr. Aziz directly, Jadji responded by saying, " But forgive me Raffiq{comrade}I have to respectfully disagree with your excellency for reasons I do sincerely hope you would understand.

As you know Raffiq, a nation can only be considered as such when it can demonstrate a set of inherent and unique characteristics. As an example, the language with which Mam Nona is trying to communicate with you, is the language that is uniquely ours; it is a language spoken by the original people of this land, namely the Assyrians. We have so jealously protected and preserved our language despite of the waves upon waves of barbaric invasions, massacres, and ethnic persecution we have experienced. And before Mr. Aziz could respond, Jadji was quick to say, " Our position, as Assyrians, is to condemn your attempts to rewrite our history. In fact attempts such as your current campaign of falsifying history are, undoubtedly, doomed due to the fact that the fabricated history will remain for Arab’s own local consumption pure and simple. The world at large is well aware of this land’s history and people, and it is a matter of time before such attempts are exposed and strongly refuted."