Oh, hello. Didn’t see you there. Probably because I’m usually behind a stack of UN resolutions, a pile of forgotten promises, and at least three active insurgency maps. I am Iraqi Stability, and frankly, I'm exhausted. People talk about me like I’m some kind of golden goose, some elusive unicorn, but I assure you, I’m just a middle-aged concept perpetually on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
My daily routine? It involves a lot of deep breathing exercises, mostly because I’m constantly holding my breath. One minute, there’s an election—like Nizar Amidi’s recent ascension to the presidency. Everyone claps, calls it a “new chapter,” a “step towards democracy.” And I’m there, nodding weakly, trying to look optimistic, all while knowing full well that this “new chapter” probably has a significant cliffhanger ending and a sequel already in production. It’s like watching the same movie on an endless loop, just with different actors taking the fall.
Then there’s the “war fallout.” Fallout? Darling, for me, it’s just the ambient noise. It’s the soundtrack to my existence. People talk about recovering from war like it’s a bad cold. For Iraq, for me, it’s more like a chronic, debilitating autoimmune disease. It never truly leaves. It just changes symptoms. One day it’s sectarian violence, the next it’s corruption, the next it’s foreign interference. And I’m supposed to just… stabilize that? With what? A strong cup of coffee and a stern talking to?
I’ve tried everything. I’ve tried being firm, I’ve tried being flexible, I’ve even tried just lying very, very still in a fetal position and hoping nobody noticed I was gone. But alas, someone always drags me back into the spotlight, usually with a press release about “national unity” or “reconciliation.” Reconciliation! Bless their hearts. That’s like asking a cat and a dog who’ve been fighting for twenty years to suddenly start sharing a litter box.
The truth is, I don’t think people even know what they want from me anymore. Do they want a fragile truce? A robust 2 built on oil? A fully functioning democratic process where everyone agrees on everything, all the time? (Spoiler: that last one is never happening, not even in Switzerland, let alone here.) I’m stuck between the eternal tug-of-war of tribal loyalties, religious dogma, and geopolitical chess matches where Iraq is always the chessboard.
So, Mr. Amidi, congratulations on the new gig. I wish you all the best. I’ll be here, trying to hold things together with spit and a prayer, as always. Just don’t expect me to look too surprised when the next crisis rolls around. I've got my eye bags packed, my emergency 2 kit at the ready, and my therapist on speed dial. Although, as I said, she’s booked until 2050.
