Today marks the 36th anniversary of the #Sardasht chemical attack, when the peace and tranquility of a city and the life of its dwellers were shattered in seconds but remained unmended for decades. (Tweet's link)  English translation of Ana van Es (Volkskrant.nl) Such a gas attack couldn't be that dangerous, he encouraged himself, but the consequences never passed   June 26, 2023 The air raid siren sounded. "Gas, gas!" everyone shouted. It was late December 1986, around noon, on the front near Sumar, in Iran right on the border with Iraq. His mates fled into the bunkers. But Assadallah Husseini just ran out. He was only 20 and a medic in the Iranian army. He had to go to the field hospital, take care of the wounded. Such a gas attack couldn't be that dangerous, he encouraged himself. They were far from the front. A stream of wounded under his hands. After a few hours he became dizzy himself. Had to vomit. His eyes burned, they couldn't take the light anymore. In the evening he fell to the ground. The paramedic had become a patient. He got blisters all over. His skin turned black. Resting at home for a month, I'm sure I'll get better, Assadallah thought at the time. After all, the others were worse off. They were completely burnt. They died. But it never passed. His skin recovered, but with the years new complaints came. As a result of the mustard gas attack, Assadallah is chronically ill. He has eye problems. A weird cough. Difficulty breathing. Walking is not possible. And now, 36 years after the gas attack, Assadallah is in The Hague. In an impeccable gray suit, he stands in the hall of the court. Together with four other Iranian victims of Iraqi poison gas attacks, he holds a Dutch company liable that supplied a raw material for mustard gas to the Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein. The company nowadays has the unpronounceable name Otjiaha, but is better known as Melchemie, the company of billionaire Hans Melchers. In the 1980s, Melchemie was one of countless suppliers to SEPP, a front company of Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein. Yes, the SEPP. The State Enterprise for Pesticide Production . Founded – or so the story goes – to eradicate the insects in Iraq. It is one of the cynical chapters on the role of the West in Iraq that has since been covered in the sands of history. The SEPP was welcome in Europe. West German companies supplied raw materials for deadly nerve agents: sarin and tabun. Sophisticated air scrubbers and corrosion-resistant pipes were shipped from Hamburg for a brand new poison gas plant. Italy played a role. Dutch companies supplied raw materials for mustard gas. The most persistent and clumsy of the bunch, Frans van Anraat, was sentenced to more than 16 years in prison. The SEPP was a 'probing cover story' from a 'beloved ally' – Saddam Hussein's Iraq – says Melchemie's lawyer, Carry Knoops. We have a pesticide for every insect, the Iraqi army publicly announced. Some German people involved said afterwards that they were joking about it. Insect killers, you had to take that broadly, haha. They made remedies against "fleas, locusts, Persians, Israelis." 36 years is a long time, but not that long. It's too close for apologies, commemorations, teaching materials. Some perpetrators and victims are still alive. Legal entities are traceable. Substantial compensation is still possible. And so those responsible are ducking, all over Europe. Hans Melchers is now 85. He is no longer allowed to dispose of his own assets. His administrator is in court. That he supplied a raw material for mustard gas to Saddam Hussein is hardly in dispute. But his lawyers dispute that Assadallah and other Iranians were injured as a result. The judges in The Hague emphasize: this case is not about 'politics or geopolitics'. But unfortunately. It doesn't get more geopolitical than this. The Iranian government has been trying for years to sue the Western companies that supplied Saddam with chemical weapons at the time. Iran would prefer to see these businessmen answer to an international tribunal. Justifiably. Only: Iran also throws this file on the table when difficult questions are asked about, for example, their own nuclear ambitions. Representatives of the Iranian government are present in the courtroom. They ask for my phone number. Always handy for the Iranian embassy to have, says a man. He works in Tehran, at the Peace Museum. You hear the victims, even when they are not talking. One of them breathes through a tube, whining audibly. Assadallah coughs again and again.