By James Hider
The bloodshed perpetrated within the identify of faith on the planet this present day is nowhere extra visible than within the center East. even if we're conversing approximately hardcore Zionist settlers nonetheless scuffling with historic Biblical battles within the hills of the West financial institution or Shiite dying squads roaming the lawless streets of Iraq within the aftermath of Saddam; no matter if it is the misappropriation and martyrdom of Mickey Mouse by means of Gaza's Islamists, or a US president performing on God's orders, James Hider sees the hallucinatory influence of what he calls the 'crack cocaine of fanatical fundamentalism' throughout him.As James Hider travels round the center East, from Israel to Gaza, to Iraq and then again to Jerusalem, he is taking his doubts approximately spiritual ideals to the very middle of the world's holy wars. He meets terrorists and their sufferers, squaddies and clerics, usual humans and remarkable humans. The query behind his brain is: how can humans not just think in all this insanity, yet die and kill for...
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Extra info for The Spiders of Allah
But the director of al-Aqsa television, Fatih Hamid, was unrepentant when I met him in his offices in Gaza City. I had trouble trying not to laugh when I asked him about a giant Mickey Mouse figure being beaten to death by a secret policeman in his show. He smiled back, and explained that in Gaza, kids grow up faster than anywhere else, exposed to Israeli tank raids, helicopters firing rockets in the streets and the inevitable proximity of death. ‘We want to teach our children how to defend themselves to take back their rights stolen by the Israelis,’ he told me.
We stopped and introduced ourselves and were invited to sit with the mourners. Serving soft drinks were boys in Islamic Jihad T-shirts, kids barely in their teens. I asked if they were members of the fanatical group and was told they were supporters, a sort of jihad social club. The would-be martyrs poured garish orange squash for the older men who were already in the suicide club. Afterwards, they staged a little parade with flags, where they stood in disciplined military ranks. I started talking to one of them, a twelve-year-old who said he wanted to die fighting Israel.
On Fridays, the mosques would crank up their call to prayer, one by one, until the cries from the minarets merged into a howling lament, an air-raid siren announcing the imminent wrath of god. Every morning, I’d walk through the arch of the Bab al-Jadid, or New Gate, and head up Jaffa Road, always with the thought in the back of my mind that one of the parked cars might explode at any moment, or that someone would unholster his gun and start shooting. I once saw an old woman with hennaed hair, Sarah Hamburger, carried away from a bus stop on Jaffa Road, dying.
The Spiders of Allah by James Hider