America cheered when Baghdad burned.
Not in silence. Not reluctantly.
But with euphoria.
Network anchors smiled against mushrooming fireballs.
Politicians pounded podiums.
Pundits called it “liberation.”
They cheered when Gaddafi was sodomized on camera.
Not with horror.
With glee.
Hillary Clinton laughed on national television:
“We came, we saw, he died.”
And the audience applauded.
They cheered when General Qassem Soleimani’s body was scattered across a Baghdad runway.
His hand, still wearing the ring gifted by the Supreme Leader, lying in the dust.
The same hand that signed battlefield truces, coordinated ceasefires, and led the ground war which broke ISIS—when no one else would.
No trial. No war declaration.
Just a drone, a crater, and a standing ovation.
They clinked champagne glasses as sanctions strangled half a million children in Iraq.
Babies born into embargo.
Doctors forced to reuse syringes.
Parents watching their children die for lack of aspirin.
And when asked if it was worth it?
Madeleine Albright didn’t flinch:
“We think the price is worth it.”
Half a million dead children.
Worth it.
Not regrettable.
Not tragic.
Worth it.
This wasn’t collateral.
This was calculus.
A culture that weaponized suffering into spectacle.
That turned death into doctrine.
That taught the world to measure progress in corpses, and power in the silence of those it crushed.
And for decades, that silence held.
But silence doesn’t mean consent.
It means breath held.
Wounds unspoken.
Pain memorized.
Until one day, the victims began to speak.
Not in English.
But in resistance.
In defiance.
In the refusal to die quietly for another empire’s illusion of order.
Because the world remembers.
Iraq remembers.
Libya remembers.
Iran remembers.
Palestine never forgot.
And now, the reckoning isn’t coming.
It’s here.
You can’t build a future on a graveyard and expect the dead to stay silent forever.
Not when their names are whispered in every crater.
Not when their ghosts walk among the ruins, pointing fingers, demanding answers.
This is not a call for vengeance.
It’s a warning:
There is no immunity for empire.
And the bill is always paid.
In full .
Sony Thang
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