Without getting into the politics, this news strikes me as simply incredibly sad:
The bodies of more than 85 executed men have surfaced across Baghdad in the past two days, in Sunni and Shiite neighborhoods, providing graphic proof, yet again, of sectarian mayhem. Many bodies bore marks of torture — badly beaten faces, gagged mouths and rope burns around the neck — though it remains unclear who is responsible.
The article reports fear that the killings are by “police commandoes” but that is unknown:
The widespread suspicion is that many executions are the handiwork of death squads backed by the Shiite-controlled Interior Ministry. On the other side are well-organized Sunni insurgents, quite skilled at killing, too. One result is a slow strangling of whatever had remained of normal life: shops are closing earlier, people are hunkering down and politicians are feeling squeezed. Iraqis elected a new Parliament in December, but until now, political leaders have been wrangling over the composition of a new government.
You feel it is banal even to make any observation at all. Maybe it is my age but I think of a view of a bridge at the beginning of the Balkan War with people trapped among gun fire. I think of sitting in the school bus in junior high listening to the end of the Vietnam war or, later, revelations of Cambodia. It flows over you day ater day until you notice enough to thank God it is not here and then it flows over you again.