No More Stains Chuck Colson March 30, 2007

For Americans over, say, fifty, the image of desperate Vietnamese surrounding the American embassy during the fall of Saigon is one we will not soon forget. Watching American helicopters fly away leaving people, many of whom had helped us, to their fates in Vietnam made me feel ashamed—a sense of shame that only grew when we learned what happened to many of those people. These memories are why I find some recent stories coming out of Iraq troubling. As I have told “BreakPoint” listeners and readers, I believe that we should not leave Iraq until we have first established a measure of stability and restored order. To do otherwise would be bad for American security and even worse, of course, for the Iraqi people.

But keeping faith with the Iraqi people means that we have to keep faith today with those brave Iraqis who are cooperating with our attempts to rebuild their country—nearly always at great personal risk.

A U.S. Apache helicopter flies over Baghdad’s northwest Sunni neighborhood of Ghazaliya March 28, 2007. REUTERS/Fabrizio Bensch (IRAQ)

And to our shame, that’s not happening. In a recent edition of the Chicago Sun-Times, Lisa Barron, a CBS reporter who spent fourteen months in Iraq, told readers the story of an Iraqi woman “Jina Russell.”

“Jina,” of course, is not her real name. She is a translator working with the U.S. Army. Because of her work with the Army, both Shiites and Sunnis consider her to be an “aameel,” a collaborator, and she lives under constant threat of kidnapping and assassination. She has lost her daughter, her husband, and her family. She literally has no future in post-war Iraq.

Understandably, Jina “is desperate to come to the United States . . .”

. . . more