Ahmed Thurwat: compassionate rebel

"What is in him to make him so cruel and unfeeling, I mean what happened to cause him to behave this way—and the other torturers too? I want to understand this; I want to know why the man who tortured me did so, and in general, why—how—one can torture another," Ahmed Thurwat says to me while we converse in an uptown coffee shop. Instead of acting out in a vengeful, angry manner, and instead of living as a fearful victim, satisfying the torturers’ cowardly need for power and control, Ahmed rebels by speaking with compassion—a more powerful and effective means to peace than a fist, whip or gun.

Minneapolis' Uptown is familiar to Ahmed. His brother lives there (his other seven siblings remain in Cairo, Egypt, where he grew up), and it's where Ahmed spent most of his time after coming to America at age 25, a time when there wasn't such a stigma attached to being Arab-American, at least no more than any other "hyphenated American," Ahmed remarks.

Times have indeed changed. The current state of affairs and the escalating conflict between the United States and Iraq is getting worse, causing many to consider if this is another Vietnam. Certainly, the number of men continuing to be killed and the fact that this war is not ending, give testament to this notion. "The media only gives American citizens 'snapshots' and 'sound bites' of the events, devoid of the context that only human eyes and minds can record and convey," says Ahmed. I wonder, is it a good thing to be ignorant, or is it harmful to not know the whole truth—could our American elitist psyche's handle the truth?

Maybe Jack Nicholson's statement, "You can't handle the truth," is a metaphorical reference applicable to many life situations of great significance. Ahmed didn't have a choice to be ignorant, he was forced to see, hear, and feel the “truth.” In particular, the media's coverage of torture inflicted upon Iraqi's by Americans, caused Ahmed's skin—the desensitized skin that was blistered and swollen by torture 35 years ago—to feel the pain again, but this time it went deeper—to his heart, his mind and his soul.

It was 1968; Ahmed was a 16-year-old freshman at Cairo High School. What's been called the "Six Day War," when Israel shamefully defeated Egypt, caused anti-government protesters to fill the streets. Students were let out of class early and joined in the protests. Ahmed remembers feeling glad that school got out early, not realizing the serious circumstances encompassing the turmoil in the community. He was not interested in the scene, and looked for a shortcut to get home. While walking, a soldier with the Secret Police (The Mukhabarat), approached him and asked where he was headed. Ahmed said, "I'm looking for my home." Innocently, he continued to walk with this man before placed in a line with other students and criminals. The officers began cursing their parents. Instinctively, Ahmed spoke out in defense of his parents. Although he spoke in a soft tone, the Colonel heard his "outburst," and ordered an officer to take Ahmed to an empty, dark room filled with bugs and a wicked stench. Ahmed assumed it was in an effort to make the daily quota officers must complete each day. A colonel normally mandates his officers to torture the victim, but in this case, the colonel carried out the act. Ahmed says, "It was something personal; I don't know why he had it in for me." For 45 nonstop minutes, Ahmed was beaten over his entire body with a protest stick (billy club).

"I was vulnerable, helpless, I had no protection," he said. The colonel never looked him in the eye and never spoke a word. Ahmed's skin swelled so that, "I looked like I gained twenty pounds." Then he added, "The pain was relentless, it just went on and on." His skin began to peel. Ahmed eventually lost all association with his body. He remembers trying to visualize painting scenes on the wall as a means to "escape" the scene at hand. Ahmed didn't cry, which he supposes made the colonel angrier, but it wasn't due to trying to be heroic. Ahmed said, "I couldn't make a sound, I couldn't scream, nothing. I was completely humiliated."

After what felt like forever, the beating suddenly stopped. The colonel just walked out like nothing had happened. Ahmed was left alone in the room, he thought, until he noticed for the first time that the officer who brought him to the room was in the corner, crying. Imagine Ahmed, at age 16, after being beaten and humiliated, treated like something lower than dirt: This man’s sensitivity touched him more deeply than his own pain from the beating. This heartfelt expression from the enemy is what got Ahmed home, carried him through the first intense night of pain and confusion, and the ensuing nightmares that haunted him night after night.

I first met Ahmed in June 2004 at the 20th commemorative celebration for the Center for Victims of Torture (CVT), after he spoke about his experience being tortured. With centers located in both Minneapolis and St. Paul, CVT is a private, nonprofit organization founded in 1985 to provide care and rehabilitative services to survivors of politically motivated torture and members of their families. CVT works locally, nationally and internationally to help victims of torture heal, and to educate the public about the effects of torture on its victims and ultimately on society. Ahmed is not a CVT client, but when the story suppressed inside him surfaced, he felt a need to relay his experience as a torture victim so that others could learn about this attack on the human psyche and soul of a population that is not well known or understood, but permeates America and the world. This was the first time Ahmed ever told his story. His wife, Karen, and 16-year-old daughter never knew it occurred, until the CVT commemorative event.

Ahmed hosts a weekly Arab-American television show called "Bel Ahdan," which means "Open Arms," on TPT affiliated channel 17, Sunday nights at 10:30 p.m. The show will soon be a member of National Arab-American Television. It is a variety talk show with human interest stories mostly about Arab-Americans.

Due to uncovering his experience as a torture victim, Ahmed is interested in exploring the psyche of torturers and doing a series of shows devoted to "why torturers torture." He says that torturers are victims too, due to the brainwashing they receive. They are in fear; they must follow the chain of command or risk being abused also. Ahmed noted in his address that his torturer was a "victim of his sadistic obsession with violence and his intoxication with power." He added, "I was physically paralyzed. He was morally paralyzed."

Ahmed teaches marketing at St. Thomas University in St. Paul and is a marketing consultant for business and research. He hosts an annual media golf tournament, has written for the Minneapolis Star Tribune and the Pioneer Press, and currently has two foreign exchange students, from Turkey and Egypt, living with his family.

"Being able to tell my story was empowering and liberating," Ahmed remarks to me. He is thankful for the people who listened to his story and was surprised at the positive response he received and is continuing to receive. He also retold his story on "All Things Considered," a talk show on Minneapolis Public Radio (MPR). I express to Ahmed that I'm amazed by his compassion for those who torture and his ability to consider them victims too. He thoroughly understands the human psyche, including its influence on the heart, mind and soul. But he humbly acknowledges that he knows no more than anyone else knows, if like him, one has the privilege of discovering within him or her what all people inherently have within them, the compassion for a humanity inflicted upon us by a system of socialization that we are, mostly by no fault of our own, made victims of. "What are your options?" he asks me. "You can either be angry and act destructively, or forgive and interfere with their plan to make you angry and to have power over you." Ahmed's wise and compassionate spirit is what captures my heart. He is the epitome of a "Compassionate Rebel."

Ahmed’s story will appear next year in the second edition of the book, "Compassionate Rebel.”