Ten years ago yesterday dozens of young men stood at the base of the statue of Saddam Hussein in Paradise (Firdos) Square in Baghdad.- the name of which’s irony is not lost on this author. There was no longer fear of the horrors his visage invoked, misplaced idolatry of a cruel and vicious dictator, or reminders of loved ones lost to gas chambers, firing squads or the evil that was Hussein. No, rather there was a collective strengthening of spirit that he. was. gone.

As those dozens gathered around an American tank at the statue’s base, Marine SGT Edward Chin shimmied up the statue with an American flag., draping it across the odious countenance before quickly replacing it with an Iraqi flag. Draping a chain about the neck of the tyrant’s cast replica like a hangman’s noose – another apropos touch, I think – that little M88 pulled and dragged sixteen feet of cast bronze to the dirt, taking twenty-four years of symbolic anguish and suffering with it. With the anger and fire of decades of subjugation, pain, living in fear and uncertainty motivating them, the crowd fell upon the statue, ripping his disgusting brazen head off and dragging that gargantuan bit of tangible evil through the streets as a trophy, a hard-won trophy.

Now, ten years later, Iraq may be unstable and still finding its legs, waging a war within itself, but the world as a collective no longer has to fear the insanity of that madman. I, of course, wonder frequently (as I’m certain many do) if it was worth it, and I have to say that, yes, I believe it was. The left may continue to make their “free the shit out of you” quips, go on with their snarky ” Bush lied” mantras, and play round after round of the blame game, but I will continue to smile every time a Kurdish child gets his first pair of shoes and marvels at the sight of bubbles and a bit of crayon, I will tear up every time an Iraqi girl learns to read, and I will give a mental fist pump and “AFY!!!!” every time I hear “the fall of Saddam” recounted.

And they all come tumbling down…….