In Georges' view, what Iraq needs most right now is not military might or foreign aid or even economic revival. What Iraq needs most is forgiveness. "Countries like Iraq that have learned to make a living from hatred and revenge for so many years must relearn the lost art of forgiveness." In Georges' view this is not merely a political problem but a cultural one. The Saddam regime was violent, corrupt and merciless and its values have seeped into Iraqi society, beyond what any war or political movement can heal.
Georges has managed to uphold the spirit of forgiveness even in the face of terrorism. Addressing those responsible for the bombing of an Iraqi church, Georges writes: "I would also say to those who destroyed our places of worship, who killed, kidnapped, blackmailed and robbed our people, and who used violence and hatred against the Christian community, that we pray to our Father in Heaven that he will forgive them and lead them to a different way of thinking."
But Georges doesn't just talk about the path of forgiveness-he lives it.
After the invasion, Georges took a job with the new Iraqi government as the spokesmen for the Prime Minister, Iyad Illawyi. During this period, because of the dangers, Georges was surrounded by body guards at all times.
One day, his bodyguards caught four young Muslims video-taping Georges' house, driving back-and-forth. When the bodyguards brought these men to Georges he began questioning them and they admitted they had been planning to blow up his home.
"Do you know me?" Georges asked, incredulous.
"No, we don't know you," they answered.
"Then why do you want to kill me?"
Georges' responsibility was clear. The proper thing to do was to turn these four over to the authorities who, Georges' knew, would show them no mercy.
He continued to question them. Two of them were Engineering students at Baghdad University. The others were both in their second year of medical school. Georges shook his head. They represented the future of Iraq. But, with a single act, they had thrown their own lives away.
Georges breathed a silent prayer, Jesus, tell me what to do with these men. Finally, he made up his mind. He told the men they were free to go. Fearing a trick, they were at first afraid to move. Georges assured them they would not be harmed.
Four hours later, they returned with their families. With tears the families thanked Georges over and over for sparing the lives of their sons. They offered their sons, whose lives he had spared, to serve as his bodyguards. It was a matter of honor: because he had spared them, they were willing to protect his life by risking their own. Of course, Georges refused. "The only thing I want is that you send these boys back to the University," he told them.
The four men continue to visit Georges to wish him well. There is an awful myth circulating in the Western world that somehow Muslims or Arabs only understand the language of violence and brute force. But these men-and their families-clearly understood the power of mercy.
Of course, some will think Georges was insane to offer forgiveness to such men, trusting on faith that they would never return to finish the job that they had started. It was reckless and perhaps naive. But Georges has spent his life choosing the insane over the sensible. It was insane to fly a plane for which he had never been properly trained. It was insane to tell the truth to a dictator. It was insane to defend enemy pilots from the mass-murdering son of Saddam. And it was insane to forgive a terrorist. Georges is a hero because he has made a career of choosing the harder path, of risking everything for the sake of his country.
We should all be very grateful that Georges Sada chose not to live a sensible life. And-Americans and Iraqis alike-should aspire to follow the example he has set for us.