- R. Cohen, "Exiled
in a Museum, the Dream
of Peace," in The New York Times,
February 25,
2006: "It was in the now partly reconstituted rooms of the closed
museum that I found Donny George a few weeks ago. A small man with
glittering brown eyes, George, an archaeologist, is director general of
the museum." [he's actually the president of the State Board of
Antiquities and Heritage now]; "... George's hobby is playing drums in
a rock band. Under Saddam Hussein he was a member of a band called 99
Percent - 'of perfection,' he explained - that specialized in Deep
Purple songs. ... Now, as violence rages around him, George waits. He
is an exile within his own museum, condemned to contemplate his own and
his country's fate in rooms emptied of visitors. ... the closed museum
is ... an isolated echo chamber of turmoil and memory. ... 'I have in
my imagination the reopening ceremony, with all the people who have
helped us,' he says. 'There will be 1,000 people in the gardens,
musicians playing traditional Iraqi music, a huge feast.' He points to
a vast courtyard where date palms and other trees are being planted. In
his mind's eye he has already placed the banquet-laden tables, the
musicians, the dancers, the guests. All that is missing is peace. As
George observes, 'When a museum is reopened, it means that peace has
come.' The Interior Ministry has been urging him to open the museum,
saying it will provide him with more than 1,000 guards if necessary.
'But then it's no longer a museum,' George says, 'it's a barracks.' An
Iraqi Christian, George is deeply troubled by the sectarian violence
that has gathered in intensity since the American invasion. Keep
religion out of politics, he urges; render unto Caesar what is
Caesar's, unto God what is God's. I know that the killing and mayhem
that have followed the destruction of the Golden Mosque in Samarra, a
revered Shiite shrine, will have caused him great despondency. Beauty,
he holds, is worth more than politics, and violence should be a
stranger to every God. George is a patient man because he is steeped in
his country's history. 'There are stages such as these and then there
are stages of calm,' he says with his gentle smile. 'Each can last 100
years, but it passes. A famous Samarian [sic] writer described the
scene here in 2000 B.C., saying that people are looting and killing and
nobody knows who the king is. So you see, nothing is new.'" [this
article is similar to Cohen April
2, 2006]
Photo: "Max Becherer/Polaris, for The
New York Times - Relief stone work depicting ancient
gods and winged creatures are on display in the Assyrian hall of
Baghdad's National Museum in 2005." [only small partial photo of said
relief available on free intro to pay-only article; actually, this can't be right
(2-28-06): this is indeed not a god or mythological creature in the
thumbnail picture, as Sam Paley was so attentive to point out to me; I
don't have access to the full article, only to a copy of the text
without photos so I don't know whether I have the wrong caption or the
caption is in error; anyway, this is from a relief from the throne room
of Fort Shalmaneser in Nimrud depicting Shalmaneser III (9th cent. BC)
shaking hands with Babylonian king Marduk-zakir-shumi I and courtiers
(with thanks to Dr. Paley)]
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