The journalist who threw shoes at George W Bush

Fifteen years after his brazen act of defiance of throwing shoes at the then US President George W Bush, Muntadhar Al-Zaidi has an important message about Gaza and for Bush himself. Tracking him down was not an easy task. I spent days going from coffee house to tea house across Baghdad hoping that someone would have an idea of his whereabouts. After several dead-end leads (the last of which took me to the notorious Sadr City), I turned to social media and discovered that Al-Zaidi had a Facebook profile. In a last-ditch attempt, I sent him a message, doubtful that he would respond and certain that if he did (knowing my luck) it would be after I left Iraq. To my surprise, I received the following message from him two days later: Ahlan wa Sahlan, habibi — Welcome, my dear.

Al-Zaidi had barely recovered from the flu when we met at his home three days later. Still, he was in good spirits, joking about how I must have a death wish in deciding to drive in Baghdad. He had recently relocated to a suburb in the south of the city, closer to family and hopefully some anonymity. I asked if security was a factor in his decision to move, pointing to the number of cameras around the property and the gun tucked away in the side of the sofa cushion. He laughed, shrugging off the suggestion, before sharing the fact that seven attempts had been made on his life.

“Seven attempts?” I asked, clearly not sounding as if I was convinced. He assured me that was the number. I decided not to ask for details.

After the obligatory chai (which I accepted happily) and cigarette offer (which I politely declined), I reminded Al-Zaidi that it was 15 years ago when (I imagine) his life changed forever. Did he worry that one incident may be his legacy forever and take away from anything else that he did? He shook his head dismissively. “I only care about my responsibility towards my people, the issues they ask me to fight for; but I am only one person, I cannot fight the Gods of Greece alone.”

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The years following the incident were not easy for him. He served nine months of a three-year sentence for attacking a head of state and his career as a journalist was effectively over. I was curious to know if he had any regrets about his action and put the question to him. He seemed insulted by the notion, but that incomparable Iraqi hospitality came through and his demeanour softened. “I am happy with my decision.”

Trying to lighten the mood, I told him that my friend and I still joke about Bush’s cat-like reflexes, he was so quick to dodge the shoes. “And Al-Maliki put his hand in front of the second one,” added Al-Zaidi quickly. Is it true that there were Arabs across the Middle East that were willing to pay good money for the shoes? He laughed and admitted to hearing such stories but dismissed them as mere anecdotes, not to be taken seriously.

Our conversation took a reflective turn when I suggested the inevitability of his shoes missing their intended target. He looked at me, puzzled. Somehow America always gets away with any real accountability for its actions, I offered, unsure if I was projecting my own thoughts out loud or asking a question. An expression of both surprise and sad realisation crossed his face. “I never thought about it like that before.” After a moment of sombre silence between us, he pointed to my empty cup. “More chai?” Yes please, I nodded, relieved the moment had passed.

So why was I here? What did I really want to ask him? The truth is, like many others, I had not been myself since 7 October and the horrific aftermath. I could no longer focus on work, hardly sleep and was glued to social media for updates coming out of Gaza. I wrote to my local MP requesting he call for an immediate ceasefire, without a response. I started a petition against him demanding the same, without any effect. I watched helplessly as my government (and the opposition party) stood firmly in Israel’s corner whilst it was possibly committing war crime after war crime.

To me, Muntadhar Al-Zaidi represented that final semblance of hope, the ultimate symbol of resistance. That despite all odds, ordinary men (and women) can stand up to those in power. True, it may not undo the atrocities of the past, but it may force future leaders to think twice before tacitly giving the green light to future ones, especially if they are faced with thousands of Al-Zaidis ready to challenge their authority.

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And that’s why I was here. I needed his guidance as to what I (we) can do when all avenues seemed exhausted.

“The west falls down on human rights,” he told me matter-of-factly. “You must fight, fight and fight; if you stop cycling, you will fall off the bike.”

His point was simple yet effective. He wasn’t suggesting we take our shoes off, but that we continue to stand with the Palestinians in their struggle. We continue cycling until the finish line, until Israel retreats and security is restored.

I saw from my mobile phone that it had turned 11pm. I knew I would have to leave shortly, but not before returning to the central figure in his story. We joked about Bush’s infamous gaffe in 2022 when instead of decrying Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, he decried the “wholly unjustified and brutal invasion of Iraq”. It was the Freudian slip to end all Freudian slips. I reminded him that Bush remained unapologetic about invading Iraq. If Bush is listening, did he have a message for him?

“Yes… you ran away from justice on Earth, but you cannot run away from justice in the afterlife. You will spend an eternity in hell.”

Fifteen years on and Al-Zaidi’s seething disdain for the former president remains as palpable as it was on 14 December, 2008.

With that, I closed my notebook, thanked him for his time and took my leave, promising to visit him again if I returned to Baghdad. “We will get Masgouf,” he declared, referring to a popular Iraqi dish. It was a tempting note to part on.

The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.