Fallen Cities

Late at night I lay awake in my hotel bed, listening to the sounds of a city at war: the distant thuds of mortars crashing at the Green Zone followed by the monotonous din of supply convoys shrouded in the safety of the dark curfew hours, the hoarse howling of street dogs. Dawn will break soon, and shortly afterwards clashes will resume, and car-bombs will start blowing up in the morning rush hour. The sounds, like the war, had become repetitive, rhythmic and very predictable. Since 9/11 the Middle East has been riven by war, the lines between enemies and allies shifting and reforming, often street by street, in urban areas where combatants and civilians live uneasily together. From his own experiences in Baghdad, Mosul, Aden and Aleppo, Ghaith Abdulahad weaves together a uniquely rich and lyrical account of the past twenty years through the eyes of those who live there: smugglers and soldiers, extremists and pragmatists, those that don't want to leave and those who can't get away.