Sholeh Wolpé

Barely twenty-five, he smells of yesterday’s spit and vomit, black beard droops in clumps from his drawn, sun-savaged face. Hanging from a string around his neck: a small holy book. This man was once a child held against the breast of a mother who kissed his small meaty hands that smelled of milk and tears.

— Bahram (Pakistani 14-year-old held in an Afghan prison) Like the pied piper the mullah drives his battered truck through dusty villages, his loudspeaker singing:Join the battle against the infidels. Fight for Jihad and live eternally with Allah. Lift up your guns for Him and you shall never die.