Iraqi interpreter labeled a traitor, finds refuge in Philly

June 15, 2010|By Joelle Farrell, Inquirer Staff Writer
Image 1 of 3
  • Safa Ismael (left) with Patrick Dugan, State Rep. Bryan Lentz, and Lt. Col. Jeffrey Voice. They helped Ismael immigrate to the United States after he was targeted for working with them in Iraq.
  • Safa Ismael (left) with Patrick Dugan, State Rep. Bryan Lentz, and Lt. Col. Jeffrey Voice. They helped Ismael immigrate to the United States after he was targeted for working with them in Iraq.
  • Ismael befriended (from left) Maj. Brett Hamrick, Voice,and Lentz when he interpreted for them in Iraq.

For nearly two years, as more and more Iraqis came to view U.S. soldiers not as saviors but as jackals, Safa Ismael showed up for work outside the concrete barricades surrounding the U.S. military base in Mosul.

He didn't quit when fellow interpreters were executed in busy markets or shot dead in their homes. He didn't give up when he was chased through the city, when neighbors screamed "traitor" in his face, when insurgents put his name on a list of collaborators.

Instead, Ismael bought a gun and slept with it under his pillow. And still, every day, he returned to the gates to translate for American soldiers building schools, wells, and a fledgling government for the northern city.

Story continues below.

To the soldiers of the 416th Civil Affairs Battalion - among them a Philadelphia Municipal Court judge and an assistant district attorney in the city - he was a marvel.

"That kid had a lot of guts," said Patrick Dugan, the judge. "Safa would keep coming back."

When a car bomb nearly killed him, Ismael knew he had to leave Iraq for good.

So he wound up in Philadelphia, through the efforts of Dugan and other soldiers with clout, including Bryan Lentz, a former assistant district attorney, and Jeffrey Voice, an Army lieutenant colonel from Northeast Philadelphia.

Ismael became the first person granted asylum in the United States under a revised law allowing for resettlement of Iraqi and Afghan interpreters.

"It's something that we owed him," said Dugan, then a sergeant. "He protected us. He kept us alive. The least we could do was get him here and give him a fresh start."

Only now, five years later and working in the Linguistic Data Consortium at the University of Pennsylvania, does Ismael, 30, feel safe enough to speak publicly.

He worries about his mother and eight siblings. A visit home is risky.

"I'm sure terrorists will bring back their lists and say, 'This hasn't been checked off yet,' " Ismael said. "I don't want to bring trouble to my already troubled family."

But Ismael has a family here as well.

"If you could've seen the joy of the people who were meeting him at the airport, the tears," Dugan said. "It felt so good to see him here safe."

When he landed in November 2005, Ismael, his forehead cut from the car bombing only weeks before, was stunned at the sight of seven men with whom he had served.

"I didn't expect at any point in my life that I would see them all together . . . waiting for me," Ismael said.

1 | 2 | 3 | Next »
|
|
|
|
|