Conflicts and Violations

Yemeni mp 

Ahmed Saif Hashed

During my time at the military academy, I was a disciplined and committed student, to the point of anxiety. I did not take violations lightly, nor did I wish to commit them; I only did so out of forgetfulness, confusion, or for a justifiable reason. My infractions were minimal and exceedingly rare, if not nearly nonexistent. They ranged from the tip of my boot straying from the line of tiles, to a light dusting on my uniform, a minor error in drill movements, or a delay in formation—amounting to no more than a handful of instances over two years. I never missed a single day or class throughout my entire academic tenure.

The most significant violation I committed during those two years went unpunished. While our squad was running drills, my classmate Habish, known for his frequent infractions and chaos—who seemed inseparable from punishment—made an offhand remark to a fellow student in our squad named Omar, a university graduate and a member of the Iraqi Communist Party.

All our classmates from the Iraqi Communist Party were university graduates, members of the party, and were aligned with the seats designated for the liberation movement. They embodied nobility, cultural richness, refined conduct, and served as admirable examples. Omar, in particular, stood out among them for his exceptional character and was a figure of inspiration.

It is no small feat for a person to embody high awareness, cultural depth, righteous behavior, dignified interactions, and profound humility, yet Omar managed to encapsulate all this and more. His qualities consistently amazed and impressed me, making him worthy of my attempts to emulate him above all others.

If all communists were like Omar, they would certainly deserve admiration. They were students of the remarkable Iraqi communist teacher, Fahd, who once proclaimed, as he faced execution by hanging: “Communists are stronger than death and higher than the gallows.” In Omar, I saw a glimpse of prophecy, a Sufi asceticism infused with a touch of divinity, and a great leader who captivates hearts.

My disorderly classmate’s condescension towards Omar provoked me, stirring my moral indignation before any other sentiment, and I rushed at him with vigor and fury, surprising everyone, including the offender, who did not anticipate such a reaction. We engaged in a fierce altercation, and our peers intervened to break up the fight, transforming our orderly drill into a chaotic scene. Once the confrontation was resolved, the matter was contained amicably without notifying the authorities.

In another instance, I faced compounded punishment. Upon hearing the formation whistle, I would rush like a Spanish bull to the yard, determined to avoid being caught by the duty officer. I was astounded and quick on my feet, pushing aside those who lagged before me.

In a heavy jest, while I was resting beside the bed waiting for the formation whistle, some of my roommates played a trick on me by tying my belt to the bedpost without my knowledge. As soon as I heard the whistle, I bolted with the force of seventy horses, toppling the bed, which crashed to the ground amidst a flurry of scattered items. I hurried to try to fix what I could, but time was not on my side, and chaos reigned.

I was punished twice that day: first for being late to formation, and second for the chaos that ensued with my bed and the scattered belongings around my room. Consequently, my roommate on the upper bunk also faced repercussions, but for him, it hardly mattered. He was infamous—if my memory serves me right—by the number 71444; we memorized his name due to his daily infractions, as he rarely escaped punishment. His number echoed every day over the loudspeaker during the afternoon formation, announcing his penalties or additional drills.

* * *

Perseverance and lack of sleep sometimes drained my strength. I remember a particular moment in the “Vehicle Training” class; as the instructor was engrossed in explaining the workings of the car’s pistons, I collapsed to the ground. I fell hard, as if a sudden seizure had overtaken me while I stood. When my classmates rushed to see what had happened, they were astonished to see me spring back to my feet. Even more surprising was my nonchalant response:

 “Nothing happened, I just dozed off while standing.”

Their astonishment grew, and laughter erupted, while the kind instructor allowed me to take a break. Nevertheless, I stubbornly continued to listen to the lesson.

I remained committed during the night watches, despite my disdain for them, except when guarding one of the radar bases along the coast of Amran in Al-Shaab district in Aden, which felt more like a leisurely outing to me.

During one of my guard shifts at the academy, while sitting in a chair with my rifle in hand, my head and neck suddenly dropped, and I almost fell. The knife fixed to the rifle’s muzzle nearly struck my eye. It served as a harsh lesson that kept me alert during my subsequent shifts—I nearly learned at a great cost.

* * *

Yet, the infraction I cannot forget was when I left the buttons of my pants undone. The instructor, a short-statured Russian expert in reconnaissance, chastised me with an intensity that resembled a fit of passion, his words a blur I could not comprehend. However, his gestures and animated movements conveyed more than any punishment could; I was engulfed in shame, eliciting a storm of laughter from my peers.

Today, in the Parliament, this scene and this forgetfulness recur without eliciting any reaction from anyone, to the point where it feels habitual and unremarkable. It seems I have been struck by a form of “Alzheimer’s.” Often, I or my colleagues discover that my zipper is down. Just the other day, my companion Nabeel Al-Hussam pointed it out, and in an animated response, followed by laughter, I retorted, “I know… I’m heading to Parliament. It’s customary for me to do this.”

I conclude by saying that it is hardly surprising. The council has become a display of nudity, and I strive to maintain modesty as much as I can. What parallels this, and even exceeds it, deserves far more from me.

* * *