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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Karen Snell: Iraqi brothers sacrificed for U.S., now need our help

A young Iraqi man named Mahmoud is new to America and afraid of what might happen if his identity was shown in America but is still thankful to come here after helping the American soldiers in Iraq. He even asked that his first name not be used. He has been in the United States about three months. Photographed Sunday, Jan. 29, 2107. (Jesse Tinsley / The Spokesman-Review)
By Karen Snell Special to The Spokesman-Review

As Donald Trump signs away the hopes of thousands of refugees, he uses the label “radical Islamic terrorists.” Does he understand who these refugees are? Does he understand he is also banning those with Special Immigrant Visas who risked their lives to help the United States military?

Donald Trump and his followers need to know the stories of people like Mahmood, a young man who’s a recent arrival to Spokane.

Mahmood is an Iraqi Muslim from a successful, well-educated family in Mosul; he didn’t want his last name disclosed because of the danger to his family who haven’t been able to join him in the U.S. In 2006, he was a 16-year-old finishing high school and the Islamic State group, who he calls “the terrorists,” were establishing themselves in the city.

When the Americans came, his retired father was jubilant and told his sons to do what they could to help. Mahmood and his brother Khalid watched and warned the soldiers when they saw improvised explosive devices, missiles and potential car bombs. The soldiers befriended Mahmood after he warned them of an IED. Another brother, Omar, lived with the Americans and worked as an interpreter, but the family told everyone he had gone to Europe because it was dangerous to have a family member working for the Americans.

The terrorists did find out about the collaboration, however, and one morning in 2008 arrived at the family’s home and fatally shot Khalid. Mahmood’s father shot and wounded one of the terrorists. Then the whole family, including Khalid’s five orphaned children, were in danger and escaped to a cousin’s house and then another house. The terrorists went to Mahmood’s school looking for him. The family fled to Turkey.

Life in Turkey only offered years of waiting without the possibility of work, so they decided to leave. They went to Iraqi Kurdistan where tensions continue to mount between the growing number of Arabs who had fled to the area and the Kurdish residents. Mahmood’s family no longer had a future in Iraq.

Omar, the brother who served as an interpreter, got out first. In the United States, that brother works two jobs and forfeits meals so that he can send money home to his family because they have no other way to survive. He feels the heavy burden of guilt that Khalid was killed and his family displaced because of his work for the United States.

It took Mahmood two years to get an airplane ticket to the United States. The vetting process is led by the Homeland Security Department, with involvement from the State Department, U.N. High Commission, Resettlement Support Centers, Central Intelligence Agency, Department of Defense and Department of Justice. The International Organization for Migration knew everything about his life and his family. He was subject to in-person interviews and required to provide biographical data about himself, his family, friendships, social or political activities, employment, phone numbers, email addresses and other information, along with biometric information including fingerprints. They also had his U.S. Army recommendations.

But when the call finally came about the plane ticket, there was no offer for his wife or the rest of the family, so he left with plans to bring them later.

Now Mahmood waits and wonders how it happened that his family members have become a danger to the country they risked everything to help. He wonders what the “extreme vetting” Trump promises could mean, and he wishes more people, including Donald Trump, would stop and learn something about the people they needlessly fear.

Karen Snell teaches English to refugees and immigrants at Spokane Community College.