The blazing women of northern Iraq

Is there a form of protest more disturbing than burning oneself alive? Most people have probably seen the 1963 image of that flaming Buddhist monk which graces the cover of the first Rage Against the Machine album. In that case, the monk was making a statement about the persecution of his religious order. Earlier this month in India some 35 "untouchables" made the news after they sent a petition to President Pratibha Patil requesting permission to ignite themselves in protest of their hideous social marginality. Self-immolation can also reflect less political concerns though. Last month, a former employee at the University of Washington lit himself ablaze after losing his job. A few days ago an 11-year-old girl in India did the same after getting yelled at by her teacher. Whatever the reason, it's hard to imagine a more disturbing or powerful way to protest a real or perceived injustice; a burning person screams out that something's not right.

That is why it is surprising that such sparse information is available which tells of the plight of Kurdish women in Iraq. Over the past several years reports have trickled in about hundreds of cases of self-immolation. The prohibition against suicide in Islam means that most instances are explained away as unfortunate "cooking accidents." But the routine admission of badly burned women in hospitals suggests more than simple kitchen mishaps. Of course these are not cooking accidents but reflect the atrocious conditions facing girls and women in Iraqi Kurdistan. Male relatives have carried out thousands of honor killings in the region, and brothers, husbands and fathers themselves are not above occasionally opting to use kerosene and a match to reclaim their honor.

This horrific and tragic "suicide epidemic" brings to light the absurdity of the American invasion of Iraq from a new perspective. The Kurdish region in the north of the country was the first post-invasion to have governing powers handed over to the inhabitants, albeit solely to the males. It seems that in addition to taking advantage for the first time in centuries their right to self rule, Kurdish males are also taking the opportunity to destroy their female kin. My disgust prevents me from seeking to understand the motives of their barbarity with anything approaching cool reason.

These terrified and hopelessness women who have lit themselves on fire deserve the very best our distant, remote empathy can muster. Just as random men in their midst wish them harm and death, random people a world away can wish them peace and health. If on no other day, this upcoming International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women on Nov. 25, the women of Iraqi Kurdistan deserve better. Let their burning bodies serve as a beacon towards better living standards for the sisters, friends and mothers they leave behind. Perhaps some of their light might even penetrate the cob-webbed caves of tradition in which many of their male kin continue to reside.