Cover
story
Iraq:
for the children, sanctions are deadlier than the bombs
By TOM ROBERTS
Baghdad and Basra, Iraq Photos by Tom Roberts, Pedro
Brieger and Nabil Al Jorani
The imam stood in the center of a
circle of women who were kneeling, praying and studying the Quran at the mosque
in the Adamia neighborhood of Baghdad. Abdul Gaforer Al-Quisi, spiritual leader
of the mosque, introduced the American visitors, who had just sat through his
extended tirade against the Clinton administration. He explained that every
time the women studied Quran and prayed, they prayed against the American
administration.
His voice rising, he said through an interpreter, Each of
these women has lost a husband, a son, a brother in the war or children to the
sanctions. So you can see how they hate America.
The pause that followed seemed to last forever, a deep silence
begging some response, a defense, an explanation, something. Everyone, it
seemed, was straining for what was to come next. Chicagoan Kathy Kelly quietly
asked the imam through the translator if she could say something.
Certainly, he motioned her to come forward and engage
in the discussion.
She moved forward and knelt, filling a small opening in the circle
of women. Like all Iraqi women, she said softly, waiting for the
translation, you have taught us. Then, touching the arm of the
woman next to her, she said, And we are sorry. The gesture brought
tears to those in the circle and some of the onlookers. The imam was silent.
The woman leading the teaching, the servant of the Quran, walked across the
circle with a cloth for Kelly to dry her eyes, and she, in turn, dried the eyes
of the woman next to her.
As if on cue, the call to evening prayer sounded from the main
part of the mosque. Time for the men to leave the womens section. Kelly
dared one more request of the imam as the group was leaving. May
we, she said, motioning to include the other American women who had
joined the kneeling circle, stay and pray?
Of course, he said.
The moment disarmed, the discussion had gone where Kelly always
wants it to go, person to person, beneath the hardened lines of battle. It is
one of the guiding motives of the group she leads, Voices in the Wilderness, a
campaign to end the economic sanctions against the people of Iraq. Kelly, more
than most, knows that the geopolitical conflict that has reached down into
these womens lives is terribly complex and that Iraqs President
Saddam Hussein bears a measure of responsibility for aggravating it. Yet she
also knows those subtleties mean little to a mother who has watched a child
starve to death or die of a disease that Iraqi doctors could have treated if
there were no sanctions.
The women went on to pray, the Americans listening and mimicking
movements. And then, through a translator, they began to share: the Iraqi women
about the losses of loved ones to war; the Americans about how some had spent
time in jail for protesting U.S. military policy. By the time the men returned,
the women were smiling and embracing. It looked like an interfaith kiss of
peace.
The scene incorporated the extravagant Arab hospitality for which
this region of the world is known and Kellys absolute conviction that
pacifism is the worlds only hope. In this case a moment was transformed.
Perhaps it takes a dreamer to press on, for in the case of Iraq and the United
States, there is an ocean of moments in need of transformation.
New languages, new images
Waging war in the post-Cold War era comes with a new set of
language and images. Smart bombs and Stealth bombers are supposed to assure
that our battles are swift and clean and limited to one-way damage. Because of
computer-guided weapons and planes that can outsmart radar, our wars are
conducted mostly at night. They tend to come with ready-made names -- Desert
Storm, Desert Fox -- as well as TV graphics and that enduring symbol of
post-Cold War coverage, the darkened skyline of some faraway city seen through
the mint-jelly haze of nighttime photography.
Kathy Kelly wont make any of the Pentagons P.R.
materials and CNN wont incorporate her into any of its logos, but if the
wars continue, she might well become another fixture of this ages battle
zones. Shes a wisp of a figure in flowing skirts, balanced by a rich
tangle of red-brown curls, worn pulled back, and thick-heeled clunky black
shoes.
If there were a logo, it would show her, briefcase in hand,
leading a delegation through some faraway city in daylight, insisting that
humans find an alternative to bombs and sanctions. Mary Poppins does civil
disobedience.
Shes a hard-nosed dreamer, the unlikely defier of the
U.S.-inspired United Nations sanctions against Iraq. For nearly three
years she has directed a kind of alternative travel agency, arranging for a
steady flow of Americans to a land where they are not supposed to go, bearing
medicine and school supplies forbidden under the sanctions. She is determined
to make this largely unseen war visible, and that determination is continuously
fueled by the plight of the children.
She is a living explanation of the fact that pacifism is not
necessarily passive. We ask soldiers to risk their lives, to lay down
their lives, in war. What do we ask of pacifists? So she keeps going to
Baghdad.
Hers is a ground campaign, a tactic that apparently still evades
the high-tech stuff with a very low-tech strategy. Getting to Baghdad today
requires a Rube Goldberg approach to travel that begins with a 12- to 15-hour
flight from the United States to Amman, Jordan. In Amman, Voices in the
Wilderness delegations stay in a hotel -- two flights up off the street and
then to spartan rooms accessible by one tiny, creaky elevator -- for a brief
overnight before taking off around 5:30 the next morning on another 12- to
15-hour jaunt.
The final leg of the journey is through the vastness of the
desert, hundreds of monotonous miles through flat, beige landscape cut by
surprisingly well-maintained two-lane and four-lane highways. Travel is
accomplished in a van or bus loaded with bottled water for the stay in
Iraq.
Two previous delegations have landed in a roadside ditch for hours
because drivers fell asleep. This time, Kelly insisted on two drivers, an extra
should the first driver get sleepy.
It takes about six hours to get to the border with Iraq, where the
bureaucrats in this lonely outpost are strangely welcoming as they go about
scratching who-knows-what on large, antiquated ledgers and stamping
who-knows-what on visas. They considerately use separate pieces of paper so the
Iraqi stamps dont show up on the passports, a matter that could
complicate travel to some other countries. The passports are then checked at no
fewer than four points as the bus winds through a maze of roadways that makes
sense, no doubt, to someone.
In between the passport checking is a stay of several hours, spent
mostly in a large reception room that looks like an outsized living room,
carpeted and with comfortable furniture and a wall-sized oil portrait of Saddam
Hussein. For the uninitiated, it is a foretaste of what is to come: Saddam the
ubiquitous. It seems a contest is on in Iraq to see how many ways and on how
many surfaces and in how many poses the leader of the country can be depicted.
It is the iconography of a dictatorship in which severe punishment -- life
imprisonment or death -- is constitutionally provided for criticizing or
speaking ill of the president.
In all, it takes 25 to 30 hours to get to Baghdad from the United
States, depending on your starting point. Kelly is almost a regular commuter.
This trip in mid-April is her ninth to Iraq in three years, the 23rd for Voices
in the Wilderness since it began shuttling delegations here in 1996. The April
delegation is also the largest, totaling 15, and made up mostly of Catholic
Workers. The senior in the group is 69-year-old Mary K. Meyer, who for the past
11 years has run a Catholic Worker house for up to 25 homeless men in Kansas
City, Kans. The youngest is 24-year-old Jeff Guntsel, a former punk rock
drummer who now works full-time for Voices. The group is accompanied by three
journalists, two from the United States, one from Argentina. It is an unwieldy
group at times that taxes the good will of Kellys contacts in Iraq, but
also perhaps is a sign of growing momentum behind the movement.
The Catholic Workers, who live a life of voluntary poverty serving
the poor and marginalized in the United States, had to raise funds for their
travel. The groups, representing Catholic Worker houses or communities in
Kansas City, Mo., Kansas City, Kan., Binghamton, N.Y., Ithaca, N.Y., and
Hartford, Conn., were surprised at the outpouring of support. Some were able to
raise tens of thousands of dollars, far more than necessary, and donated the
unused funds to Voices in the Wilderness and to purchase medicine.
Civil disobedience is primary
In Baghdad the medicine along with the bottled water is stashed in
a room in the Al Fanar Hotel, which serves as home base for the delegation and
which once must have been a fine hotel. Today it is dingy; paint is peeling
from the walls; a number of young men who work here sleep on the floor at one
end of the dining room at night.
The first floor reeks of the kerosene that the manager says is
used to fire the generator in the basement, a hedge against the constant
electrical blackouts. When driving through the city you can tell which
neighborhoods are undergoing blackouts by the dead traffic lights. No, it
was not like this before the sanctions, said the workers at the hotel and
the taxi drivers. Before sanctions, everything worked, everything was
fine.
Except for two Italian women, representatives of an Italian peace
group, who maintain rooms at the hotel, and a native Jordanian, now from
Holland, who pronounces, the first evening in perfect English, that all
governments are shit, the hotel appears empty.
Three days into our stay, two busloads of Muslims from India show
up for several days. They are touring holy sites on their way home from the
hajj, the trip to Mecca that all devout Muslims are encouraged to take at least
once in their lives. The group is gone most of the day, but as soon as it
returns in late afternoon so do several young Iraqis selling black leather
jackets. For some reason these Indians, in flowing pastel cotton garb, are
greatly attracted to the black leather jackets. Part of the sales pitch is to
hold a flaming lighter under one of the sleeves to prove the material
isnt plastic.
Soon after the Voices delegation arrives in Iraq, Kelly calls a
meeting and restates the points of a briefing that all of the groups have heard
before embarking on the trip. There are certain nonnegotiables about the
purpose of Voices in the Wilderness. Such clarity of purpose, we would learn
later from Westerners living here, has earned the organization valuable
credibility. As one seasoned observer told the journalists: The
government [of Iraq] is using her to some extent, but then the government is
using everyone. But she is very clear about her purpose, and people [in the
United Nations, for instance, and among members of the press] have respect for
her.
Kelly emphasized that Voices, though it brings into the country a
token amount of medicine, is not a relief agency, so she warns against making
promises of medicines or treatment or money. Do not give false hope. People are
desperate, she said, and saying no or explaining that nothing can be done will
be extremely difficult.
The organization is here to deliberately defy the sanctions, to
set up a nonviolent confrontation over a policy that the group believes is
tantamount to full-scale war against the most vulnerable in Iraqi society.
The sanctions that were first imposed in August 1990 by Resolution
661 of the U.N. Security Council after Iraq invaded Kuwait have been in place
without letup for nearly 10 years. In modern history there has been no parallel
to the complete and total isolation from the rest of the world to which Iraq
has been subjected. The resolution set out a full trade embargo barring
all imports from and exports to Iraq except for medical supplies,
foodstuffs and other humanitarian items as determined by the Security
Council sanctions committee, according to a document produced by the
United Nations Oil-For-Food program office in Iraq.
It was only in May 1996 that the Oil-For-Food program came into
being, allowing Iraq to sell a small amount of oil each year to purchase a
minimal amount of food and medicine.
Over the course of the embargo, the basic unit of currency, the
Iraqi dinar, was devalued to such an extent as to be virtually worthless.
Before 1990, one dinar was worth three-and-a-half U.S. dollars. Now it takes
just under 2,000 dinars to make a dollar. So a 250-dinar note, the most
commonly used bank note these days, once worth about $800 in U.S. currency, is
now worth about 12 cents.
Iraq, which once imported nearly everything because of its oil
riches, could buy almost nothing after the embargo was put in place. Even under
the current system of oil for food, the country is purchasing but a fraction of
what it needs to sustain itself and certainly nothing that would begin to
rebuild the wars damage to oil production facilities and water and sewage
treatment plants.
Saddam Hussein notwithstanding, almost overnight, Iraq went from
being one of the richest, most progressive of the Arab states to a crippled
society, denied access to its principal natural resource, with a civilian
infrastructure and an economy in ruins.
Sanctions once may have been viewed as a humanitarian alternative
to bombing. In the case of the total freeze placed on Iraq, though, people like
Kelly are convinced that sanctions have become more deadly than bombs. They are
worse than bombing military targets, she argues, because they target the most
vulnerable and helpless in Iraqi society.
For acting on such convictions, Voices in the Wilderness was
threatened in December with a $120,000 fine by the U.S. Department of the
Treasurys Office of Foreign Assets Control for engaging in prohibited
transactions relating to the embargo against Iraq. Specifically,
the group has been cited for delivering donated medical supplies and
toys to Iraq. Four members of the campaign face an additional $43,000 in
fines for traveling to Iraq.
In January, the Office of Foreign Assets Control again warned
Voices against traveling to Iraq and delivering medical supplies, noting that
violation of the embargo could draw criminal penalties of up to $1 million in
fines and up to 12 years in prison, and civil penalties of up to $250,000 per
violation. Those penalties, she advises all who travel in the delegations,
could be applied to anyone who joins the effort.
The threats have not stopped the campaign. Since that December
warning, the delegations have been almost constant, including one in early
March made up of Nobel Peace Laureates Mairead Maguire of Ireland and Adolfo
Perez Esquivel of Argentina. They were accompanied by Jesuit Fr. John Dear,
director of the Fellowship of Reconciliation USA.
That was followed by a group from Boston. Just before the group of
Catholic Workers showed up, a delegation of activists from Philadelphia had
been in Iraq with a group representing Physicians for Social Responsibility.
And toward the end of the Catholic Workers stay a group of Dominican
sisters from across the United States showed up. They had been moved by a
letter sent out a year ago by Dominican Master General Fr. Timothy Radcliffe,
who wrote, on returning from a visit to Iraq, that the Iraqi Dominican sisters
had told him, We are ground down, exhausted by years of death.
Radcliffe continued, It is as if the embargo had sometimes
seemed to shut out even God. ... What this people hunger for more than anything
else is a word of hope.
So Kelly is once more explaining to another delegation the simple
purpose of Voices in the Wilderness and the need to abide by the rules that
Iraq has put in place in light of the bombings and sanctions. Taking pictures
on the street is prohibited unless a minder, an employee of the Red
Crescent Society, the equivalent of the Red Cross in Muslim countries, says it
is all right to do so. Journalists with the group are advised that outside of
Baghdad interviews can be conducted only with a minder present and often
translating, and only those pictures allowed by the guides can be snapped.
She also warns against attempting discussions about Saddam
Hussein. Because of the severity of punishment for anything construed as
critical, people never mention his name. For a visitor to do so could place
someone in jeopardy. The assumption is that rooms are bugged and telephone
lines are tapped.
The point is hammered home as we make our way through meetings and
interviews. Only the U.N. offices and the papal nuncios sitting room are
free of pictures or portraits of Saddam Hussein. To this Westerners ear,
it seemed that everyone had a version of an oath of loyalty to Saddam that was
part of any presentation. It was easy to imagine that, in a society where
conversations might quickly be reported up the line, such obeisance is a
natural part of any public exchange.
Even in the private quarters of Archbishop Djibrail Kassab of
Basra, a picture of Pope John Paul II was slightly off to the side above the
bishops chair. A photo of Saddam Hussein with the bishop was directly
above the chair.
In the offices of the imam mentioned earlier, pictures showed
Saddam in two prayer poses, one in military uniform and one in civilian
clothes.
In the southern city of Basra, the hotel we stayed in hosted a
photo exhibit, including disturbing images of children killed when American
bombs fell on a crowded neighborhood in the city. The exhibit was a celebration
of a national day for photographers. Sure enough, as the exhibit was put in
place, a large painting of Saddam Hussein, this time in a casual sport coat
with an open-collar shirt and straw hat, camera in hand, was placed on a
prominently positioned easel. Saddam, the universal tourist.
He was everywhere, but few mentioned his name.
The most wrenching rule of all: Dont hand out money to the
shoeshine boys in front of the hotel. Pay for shoeshines, pay generously if you
like, and get your shoes shined as often as you like, but do not just hand out
food or money. If the word gets out that is happening, the crowds of shoeshine
boys will be unmanageable and the work of future delegations of Voices in the
Wilderness will be compromised.
The shoeshine boys, about six of them outside our hotel, are
wonderfully personable kids who range in age from about 10 to 14. Kelly knows
some of their families. In other times, there were shoeshine boys throughout
Baghdad, say those familiar with pre-sanction days. In recent years, however,
their numbers have greatly increased, and many are doing it not just for extra
money, but to help support their families. The shoes of this delegation were
unrecognizably shiny by the time we left Baghdad.
Albright: A price worth paying
The government of Iraqs media center is a drab building in
central Baghdad. The hallways are dimly lit, only a few light bulbs are working
and theres always the chance the electricity will go out. Yet even in the
dimness, just outside the Umm Al Maarik Research Center on the second
floor, something familiar catches the eye.
Taped to the wall, blown up large, is the 1996 exchange between
Lesley Stahl of the CBS program 60 Minutes and then-U.S. Ambassador
to the United Nations Madeleine Albright.
Stahl, speaking of the results of the U.N. sanctions against Iraq:
We have heard that a half million children have died. I mean, thats
more children than died in Hiroshima. And, you know, is the price worth
it?
Albright: I think this is a very hard choice, but the price
-- we think the price is worth it.
On the poster here, Albrights response is shortened to:
Yes, we think the price is worth it.
Granting that it is a hard choice, it is still difficult to read
much subtlety or nuance into that response. If it was the intention of
Albright, now U.S. secretary of state, to send the Iraqi government an
unmistakable message about U.S. resolve, she also sent along a public relations
bonanza.
Even more chilling, in this 10th year of sanctions, is the degree
to which that response describes what is happening inside Iraq today. For
whatever else may be true -- and truth here can be as slippery as the oil that
remains underground -- the doctors we speak to, the United Nations observers
and workers, the papal nuncio and the archbishop of Basra all say children are
dying in inordinate numbers, of diseases that should not kill, because of the
U.S.-inspired sanctions imposed by the United Nations.
Other signs of cultural stress and deterioration are everywhere.
Former teachers are driving cabs and selling cigarettes on the streets. Former
accountants and other professionals are serving as translators and minders for
the Red Crescent. Elementary schools lack pencils and paper. College students
beg for current books and periodicals. They have no access to the Internet.
Doctors lack medicines and most havent seen a current medical journal in
nearly a decade. Hospitals lack everything -- medicine, equipment and such
basics as linens and alcohol.
Baghdad, once a rich and bustling city, is deteriorating at a
distressing pace, according to Iraqis and non-Iraqis who have known it over
time. Its international hotels are mostly empty, and one of its prime
boulevards, Abu Nuwas Street, along the west bank of the broad Tigris River,
has turned shabby, its once beautifully landscaped park now a series of dusty
patches and weeds. The whole city seems on a march in reverse.
The ever-present little orange and cream cabs that clatter at
breakneck speeds around Baghdad look like survivors of some demolition derby.
No spare parts and no new autos for the common Iraqi have made it through the
embargo in almost a decade. Door handles have fallen off, upholstery is in
tatters, windows dont work and doors wont open. But the drivers
keep driving, with great abandon and in vehicles that burn minimally refined
fuel and spew clouds of fumes continuously. If Iraq has any advantage over the
rest of the world it is in its fuel prices. A liter sells for pennies, cheaper
than a liter of bottled water.
The general embargo that has virtually cut off this country from
the rest of the world has so far widely missed its main target -- Saddam
Hussein and his governing apparatus -- while apparently causing massive
collateral damage to innocent bystanders.
Nowhere is the slow dying of Iraq more evident or grotesque than
in its children. From the shoeshine boys who will follow a Westerner for blocks
before giving up the chance for a few dinars, to the increasingly frequent
hints of red in what should be rich, dark hair -- a sure sign, we are told, of
malnutrition -- the record that is building is a jarring one. The relentless
flow into the now-primitive hospitals of tiny bodies racked with waterborne
diseases, pneumonia, malnutrition and what doctors say is a wildly accelerating
rate of childhood cancers, is damning evidence that the children of Iraq are
paying the heaviest price for the political and military struggle in which they
have no say.
Inside the research center -- in name only at this point, since
little data is being gathered in any conventional sense in Iraq -- Nasra
Sadoon, an author and director of the center, noted the previous days
news of the killings at Columbine High School in Littleton, Colo. Clinton
said yesterday that We must teach our children to solve problems through
dialogue, not violence. We wish he would apply the principle to Iraq.
I think America wants to colonize Iraq. We cannot accept any
foreign hegemony, she said. The American people should understand,
they have no right to interfere in the internal affairs of another
country. Beneath the swagger and clash of geopolitical titans, a culture
is unraveling, a people is being brought to its knees, and no one seems quite
clear to what end. Whatever the ultimate goals of the United Nations and the
United States, say those we interview, Iraq is slowly dying, quietly, largely
out of sight of most Americans. We are killing it softly with sanctions.
When Saddam was our ally
How one views the current situation in Iraq may depend on the
point at which one drops into modern Iraqi history. President George Bush, for
instance, sold the public the Gulf War in 1991 in large part by demonizing
Saddam Hussein. In Bushs words, Saddam was a new Hitler, a threat to
Kuwait and to the American way of life. And Bill Clinton insisted that the
bombing of Baghdad and Basra as well as continuing bombing of
no-fly zones in the extreme north and south of Iraq was necessary
to assure that Saddams regime would not be able to develop weapons of
mass destruction.
Taking the Gulf War as a starting point, however, ignores
significant recent history, said Phyllis Bennis, a fellow of the Institute for
Public Policy Studies in Washington, D.C. We forget that throughout the
1970s and 1980s, the government of Iraq, which was the government of the Baath
party led by Saddam Hussein, was an ally of the U.S., said Bennis in an
early April speech in Seattle.
Maybe it wasnt exactly a partner, but it was a junior
partner, it was a military ally and it was a major recipient of military
intelligence, military goods and weapons. And in the context of todays
world, perhaps most significantly, it was the recipient of massive amounts of
weapons of mass destruction, most notably biological weapons stocks.
Bennis in recent weeks was on a speaking tour with Denis Halliday,
former U.N. Humanitarian Coordinator in Iraq. He resigned in September, ending
a 34-year career with the United Nations, in protest of the sanctions that he
argues are causing for lack of a better word, what is genocide in Iraq
today.
Those earlier shipments of biological weapons stocks were not from
some rogue company or secret agency, but were made under license of the U.S.
Commerce Department, said Bennis, who has analyzed Middle East and U.N. issues
for the past 20 years. The shipments included the biological material
necessary for anthrax, E-coli, botulism and a host of other diseases for
military purposes.
There was a debate about it, said Bennis. In fact, she
said, some in the Pentagon thought that even though the United States had been
providing weapons and intelligence to the Iraqis that maybe it
wasnt such a good idea to send such really bad stuff off to Baghdad,
given that this was an unaccountable regime.
And a few people in the State Department also seemed to be a
little queasy at the idea. But, what a surprise, the Commerce Department wins
out, markets trump disarmament and a license was granted, she said.
Saddam had showed his hand long before the United States decided to make
Iraqs invasion of Kuwait a global issue. He had already used chemical
weapons against the Kurdish population in northern Iraq and against the Iranian
military in that 8-year war that ended in 1988.
The United States, said Bennis, had continued making shipments of
military equipment and biological and chemical weapons stocks through 1989. Six
months later, when Iraq occupied Kuwait, the U.S. suddenly announced that
this was a government on a par with Hitler. This wasnt a new government,
there hadnt been a coup in Iraq. This was the same government that we had
been sending these weapons for the last 20 years.
In the end, Bennis and others conclude, war was waged not over
concern for human rights violations or the welfare of Kuwait, but because of
oil -- access to and control of it.
Even some who supported the original military campaign against
Iraq caution against applying any lofty motives to the war. Iraqs
importance will increase in the future and its importance can be reduced
to one word -- oil, said Dr. Gawdat Bahgat, director of the Center
for Middle Eastern Studies at Indiana University in Pennsylvania.
If it had not been for oil it would not have been
important, he said in a telephone interview in early April. Bahgat thinks
the United States was correct in the initial Gulf War since, he said, extended
negotiations and the imposition of sanctions preceded the military action. With
the international community increasingly dependent in the future on oil from
the gulf region and with seemingly intractable ethnic, religious and political
tensions creating instability, Bahgat thinks the United States will remain
deeply involved in Iraq and the rest of the region for the next two to
three decades at least.
Bahgat, author of three books and 45 articles in English and
Arabic on the Middle East, said that even if the United States does not import
anything from the gulf, it is still interested, given the integration of the
global economy, in making sure no interruption of oil occurs from the gulf to
Japan and Europe. So the United States, he said, is unlikely to feel
comfortable with Saddam Hussein controlling 20 to 30 percent of the
worlds oil supply. Iraq, he said, lies above about 10 percent of the
worlds supply, and Kuwait holds approximately another 10 percent. Had
Iraq been allowed to stay in Kuwait, he said, it would have increased the
chances of a takeover of Saudi Arabia, which has the worlds largest
supply of oil.
Even so, Bahgat is uneasy with the continued application of
sanctions. The wrong people are getting targeted by sanctions.
Then, voicing the same puzzlement about long-term goals repeated by so many in
Iraq, he said, Nobody knows where this should go.
We are responsible
The culpability of Saddam Hussein for the current condition of
Iraq is a constant question faced by those protesting the sanctions. Halliday
meets the point head-on at the start of his talk. We are
responsible for the deaths now occurring in Iraq, Halliday said of those
countries imposing the sanctions.
If you wish, we can share the responsibility with Saddam
Hussein, but we have no influence over him. But we certainly have influence
over ourselves and over those we choose to represent us. As we sit here rather
snug in our democracy, in our universities, in our homes, with our
opportunities and our educations and our futures and our human rights intact,
we are responsible for a policy in Iraq which is taking away from the people of
Iraq not only their very lives, but the lives of their children, the lives of
the next generation. We are seeing children suffering from chronic malnutrition
in Iraq today who are going to be mentally and physically stunted for the rest
of their lives. And we are responsible.
It is not enough, he continued, to hide behind the United Nations.
The United Nations is not the fig leaf for Washington policy. And Saddam
Hussein likewise. We cannot hide behind Saddam Hussein. Yes, hes a
miserable dictator and hes done some appalling things. None of us would
apologize or want to apologize for that. But the fact that we cannot
communicate with him, the fact that we dont make any progress in our
dialogue with him, does not allow us, does not empower us to kill the children
of Iraq.
Halliday dismisses -- as do most other U.N. workers we spoke to in
Iraq -- the claims that Saddam Hussein is diverting and hoarding cash and
goods, including food and medicine.
In Baghdad, a spokesman for the U.N. Oil for Food program, would
not flatly rule out hoarding but said it is not being done on any significant
scale. Under the program, no cash is allowed to pass through the hands of Iraqi
officials. All payments are signed off by the Bank of Paris, which holds
Iraqs oil revenues and pays the vendors.
All of those connected with the U.N. humanitarian efforts speak of
detailed controls and monitoring programs to make certain the food and medicine
goes to those intended. They also list the logistic problems inherent in
distributing food and medicine in a country that has been unable to import
spare parts for trucks and other equipment and where there is a scarcity of
working refrigerated transportation.
Even with what has been judged a widely successful food
distribution program, Iraqis face serious problems. The inadequate diet of
eight years has been compounded by the problems accompanying contaminated
water. The water problems are linked to the bombing -- in 1991 and again in
December of last year -- of water treatment and distribution systems and the
electrical grids that power the plants.
And always, the children suffer the most. We have acute
malnutrition in Iraq today, said Halliday. In the 1980s, the main
problem for doctors in terms of young children in Iraq was obesity. Iraq was so
prosperous, the standard of living was so high, public health was so good. The
quality of education was equally outstanding, the services provided by the
Baath party were so comprehensive. This was a country of great prosperity, as
rich as -- if not richer than -- any of the southern European countries of that
time. But we have reduced Iraq to a situation where child mortality is
comparable to Sudan.
Visiting a water treatment plant in the Basra area, some members
of the Catholic Worker delegation saw parts sitting in crates, unopened. Nearby
was a forklift with two flat tires. The operator of the system gave the
impression that he is constantly jerryrigging machinery to keep some of it
working. On this day, the plant was shut down.
Nowhere in Iraq, he said, are facilities adequate to clean water
to drinking quality. At best it is of use for cleaning and washing purposes
only.
Hallidays opposition to sanctions comes with a warning.
We are in the position of pushing Iraq to the limit, he said, and
consequently opening the door to those of an even more extreme bent than Saddam
Hussein. There are young people in this country who are now the smaller
politicians in the Baath Party who are coming up behind the names we recognize.
Theyre going to run this country in 10 years, he said, and they
find the current regime too moderate. Theyre ready to kick out the
United Nations ... Theyre ready for something more dramatic. And
that something may be, Halliday speculated, more rightist and fundamentalist,
something we do not need or want.
In the meantime, the sanctions are killing the people,
destroying the society, damaging the culture, destroying a great country with a
great future. But right now it is in deep, deep trouble, and we are
responsible.
Where civilization began
Anyone who has taken a basic history of civilization course has
been told that the confluence of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers, the Fertile
Crescent, in what is today central and southern Iraq is one of the places where
it all began. Though it still calls itself the Land of Two Rivers, Iraq today
is neither the seat of civilization nor especially fertile.
When the water supply system was pounded during the Gulf War
bombing, say spokespersons for the U.N.s Food and Agriculture
Organization, Iraqs ability to irrigate was seriously diminished.
The combination of high salt content in the soil, rapid
evaporation due to high temperatures and a lack of irrigation, has rendered
much of the soil barren.
On the highway going south from Baghdad to Basra, the condition of
soil salinity is apparent. Acre after acre of land is topped with a thin white
crust, the residue of salt and minerals left behind on the parched surface.
At the point where the two rivers meet to form the Shatt Al Arab
waterway is a hotel with a wide veranda overlooking the rivers. It was once a
popular tourist spot. A short walk away, legend has it, is the site of the
Garden of Eden, complete with the tree.
The hotel is now closed, the veranda in disrepair. The Garden of
Eden has gone shabby, and the tree, shown in a 1975 travel book in full leaf,
appears dead.
Overwhelmingly, what one sees in Iraq is a consequence of war --
eight years of a bloody, costly war with its eastern neighbor, Iran, another 10
years of bombs and sanctions at the hands of the United States.
But often the most dangerous wounds are the most difficult to
detect. That is the case of the relatively hidden costs of the war and the
sanctions: the continuing destruction of Iraqi culture that draws protests from
North American religious groups such as the Quakers and Mennonites, as well as
Voices in the Wilderness and from Catholic leaders inside Iraq.
It is the hidden costs that brought a passionate call for an end
to sanctions from Archbishop Giuseppe Lazzarotto, the papal nuncio to Iraq.
We have a sort of permanent non-declared war now, he said during a
meeting with the Catholic Worker delegation at his residence in Baghdad.
He said the undeclared war is not less terrible or less
tragic than the fighting in Yugoslavia because children here are
dying every day. And nobody pays attention to that. They think it is just
propaganda. It is not propaganda.
Children die in Iraq of diseases that in Europe or the
United States and elsewhere would have been cured, Lazzarotto said.
But here they die because they dont get the assistance they need.
So it is sort of a permanent war. But what is much worse than that is that
people dont have hope anymore. They have lost hope.
Such hopelessness, he said, leads to a drain of talent and
intellect from the country. Those who have the means and are given the
slightest opportunity are leaving the country. That is the tragedy and
the reality of this ... Iraq wont be any more what it was just four, five
years ago.
Though members of some professions, such as physicians, are now
prohibited by law from leaving the country and the cost to simply cross a
border into another country is prohibitive, people are still finding ways to
emigrate.
Lazzarotto repeatedly expressed a wish that other bishops,
particularly from the United States, but also from Europe, would visit. Bishop
Thomas Gumbleton, auxiliary of Detroit, has visited Iraq with Voices and has
spoken out strongly against the sanctions.
The nuncio said he has told other bishops, in conversations in
Rome, that the only way to show solidarity and concern for the people of Iraq
is to visit. Because once you come, your eyes look at it in a different
way, I can assure you. If the sanctions were imposed because Iraq is not
a democratic country or because of human rights abuses, then sanctions should
be imposed on almost all the countries in the world, he said. Because
there are very few countries in the world where human rights and democracy are
really respected. And some, he said, would include the United States in
that group.
This is not the problem. ... If we sit down and discuss the
kind of government this country has, well, we can discuss it forever. But we
have people here dying and we have sanctions imposed for many, many years. On
which basis?
In Basra, Archbishop Djibrail Kassab, a native Iraqi, was more
blunt. What has happened to Iraq with the sanctions is wrong. We
dont need help. We want to sell our oil. Before 1990, he said,
We had a good country and a good leader.
He ticked off the social benefits that everyone experienced before
sanctions: universal health care, universal education, plenty of money and a
high standard of living. Now, he said, people cant afford basics like
food and medicine. So the church has turned over buildings to the homeless, it
gathers medicine from whatever sources possible, to stock and give to the sick.
It feeds and clothes people.
He quoted an Arabic saying, Everything will be finished one
day. He added, We are living in hope.
But people generally do not expect the sanctions to end soon, and
it is difficult to imagine the situation in the hospitals becoming any more
desperate.
Litany of ills
Here, hidden behind facades that suggest modern health care
facilities, is the ongoing tragedy. I visited three hospitals, in Baghdad,
Basra and Amirra. The litany of ills was numbing. Bed after bed of children
with malnutrition and waterborne diseases. Ward after ward of young cancer
patients.
Exactly how many are dying each month is not known. The figure the
United Nations most consistently uses is an average of 4,500 youngsters a month
dying as a result of the sanctions -- often either from malnutrition or
diseases that elsewhere would be easily handled or prevented. There is no
absolute scientific verification of that figure. However, even Secretary of
State Madeleine Albright, in a brief response to the 60 Minutes
interview in which she placed the blame for the humanitarian nightmare squarely
on the shoulders of Saddam Hussein, did not dispute the figure of 500,000
children dead by 1996.
The most conservative estimates would place the number of children
dead because of the sanctions in the hundreds of thousands. At times, we
pressed the medical staffs to come up with verification of estimates, and they
would shrug, saying the figures were kept by the ministry of health. And then,
at times, they would just stare, as if to ask: How many will it
take?
A spokesperson for UNICEF said the agency representatives in Iraq
recently completed a systematic survey of conditions, and its report, with
documented figures, is scheduled to be released at the end of May.
Doctors in the hospital in Basra said they have seen a fivefold to
sevenfold increase in the number of juvenile cancers since the war. Again they
could produce no nicely printed sheets of hard data, just another weary litany
of what they dont have -- the drugs that would be taken for granted most
other places, the courses of antibiotics, the clean syringes, throwaway IV
sets, easily accessible purified oxygen, simple alcohol wipes, sheets and
pillow cases.
None of those items can be taken for granted. Lights in the
hallways and rooms cant be taken for granted because of electricity
shortages.
In the case of the cancers, mostly juvenile leukemia, the suspect
is the depleted uranium that was used by the United States during the 1991 Gulf
War. Operation Desert Storm carried tons of depleted uranium into the Iraqi
desert, according to U.S. weapons experts. The residue from those attacks,
according to some researchers, has led to the outbreak of illness and death
among Iraqi children. The highly toxic substance was used as a solid inside
munitions used in the war and as a lining for armored vehicles. According to
the Pentagon, the substance renders munitions extremely hard and able to easily
penetrate armor plate.
Explosions result in the release of smoke that contains high
concentrations of depleted uranium that, say experts, could be easily dispersed
into the atmosphere and inhaled (NCR, Aug. 25, 1995).
The assumption among the medical community is that no
comprehensive research into the effects of depleted uranium will be done until
the sanctions are lifted.
Almost as unnerving as the conditions in the hospitals are the
measured tones of the doctors, some of whom chose to remain here while many of
their colleagues took earlier opportunities to leave the country.
Most have been reduced to working for the equivalent of a few
dollars a month and with only the thinnest of staffs. And then only rarely does
the frustration show through. Dr. Ali Faisal Jawad, director of the Pediatrics
and Gynecology Hospital in Basra, after explaining that the hospital did not
even have alcohol for sterilizing needles because it is on the sanctions list,
said, In England and America people use the latest things. Why not also
for Iraqis?
A hospital was also the scene of a rare outburst of anger against
the sanctions. An old cleaning woman in one of them came running up to Mary K.
Meyer and grabbed one of her sleeves and the lapel of her jacket and looked
right in her eyes and said: Youre old. Youve lived a good
life. Then making the motions to show what she meant, You can get
injections when you need them. Our children cant. They are
dying.
Later, Meyer, reflecting on the encounter, said, I knew what
she meant. She was right in my face, and I understood her the way old people
understand one another. Old people understand pain differently. I guess
its because weve seen so much that shouldnt be. People should
not suffer the way they do. When old people look into each
others eyes, we know the frustration and the hopelessness, she
said. When we look into each others eyes, we understand.
An old man in a market in Fallujah apparently understood
something, too, as he watched an exchange between Kelly and a small boy. Ahmed
El Sherif, a native of Sinai and now a U.S. citizen, was translating for the
group and recalls that the boy attracted Kellys attention because he
seemed so serious and quiet in an otherwise noisy scene.
Kelly asked him through El Sherif what he was thinking. He said,
I am a scholar of the faith. The old man was watching intently.
Kelly then asked the youngster what he wanted to be when he grew
up. I want to be a pilot and bomb the United States, he replied. At
that moment, El Sharif nudged Kelly and motioned for her to look at the old
man. Tears were running down his face.
Later, Kelly said, the incident in Fallujah prompted her to recall
the experience in the mosque with the women. The welcome there was not
surprising because by far her experience in Iraq has been of unconditional
hospitality.
I think that mans tears might have been because he
sensed that here was a child who was going to grow up with enmity and not
hospitality as the first foot forward. I think there is going to be a
change, she said, from instant acceptance and hospitality to
a new generation that is going to grow up angry and rebellious.
A further worry for Iraqis is the deep penetration of hopelessness
into the fabric of a culture that in recent decades has produced a significant
amount of scholarship and a healthy middle class. Intellectuals and
middle-class professionals have either fled, are making plans to pull up stakes
or have found work outside their fields that at least allows them to
survive.
Hans van Sponeck, a German national who took over for Halliday as
head of the U.N.s humanitarian effort here, shows no sign of softening
the criticism of the effects of sanctions on ordinary Iraqis. It is
frightening ... what is happening to people who are well-trained and who have
no chance to work with their full capacity in the area of their training,
he told a delegation representing Physicians for Social Responsibility.
In a videotape of the April 5 meeting in Baghdad with the
delegation of physicians, Von Sponeck said, You have what I call a talent
depletion situation which is really quite serious. Part of that depletion
involves what he termed an emigration without noise -- people who just
quietly leave because of the circumstances here.
He said he recently informed members of the U.N. Security Council
that right now we are setting the stage for depriving another generation
of the opportunity to become responsible national and international citizens of
tomorrow. And that may be the most serious aspect of it all.
To illustrate the point, he asked the receptionist at his hotel to
describe some of her friends -- what training they had and what they were now
doing. Of nine examples, he said, none is working in the area for which he or
she was trained. He told of a Ph.D. in mechanical engineering who works now on
a weaving machine in a clothing factory. Another with the same degree is
working in a sweets shop. A graduate specializing in geography is driving a
taxi. Von Sponeck said that another acquaintance told him she had been served
ice cream by a qualified medical doctor.
The dean of the law school faculty at Baghdad University told him
what is going on under sanctions amounts to intellectual
genocide.
The head of the pediatrics department at the University of Basra
told him, I occasionally get a paper which shows what modern medical
research is doing. Then I will try to make photocopies for my students -- if I
have photocopying paper. That is the circumstance.
As a result of such encounters, Von Sponeck said he pleaded with
the Security Council at the end of March for the removal of educational
materials as items of embargo. I think thats cruel, its cruel for
the wrong people.
If the United Nations is internally conflicted over its role in
Iraq, its humanitarian agencies still have a wide credibility. The humanitarian
side of U.N. operations here is involved daily with monitoring the distribution
of food and medicine. Those agencies know the moods of the country and the
depths to which anxiety and even despair have begun to sink into the
culture.
But part of the fallout of the war in Iraq and the ongoing
sanctions is the glaring contradiction between the mandate of the U.N. Security
Council imposing punitive sanctions and the United Nations more
traditional role as an agency that alleviates suffering. That rift, though
spoken about only off the record, is a real concern.
The split constitutes a serious threat to the integrity of the
United Nations, some say, adding sarcastically that it is now an international
agency in the full-time employ of the United States.
Other examples of Von Sponecks concern are easy to find.
Rick McDowell, co-coordinator of Voices with Kelly, told of a recent evening
spent at a celebration with a middle-class family. There was feasting and music
and dancing. At one point in the evening, though, some of the revelers stopped
and looked around and said, Its over. In two to three years, we
wont be here doing this. Our children will not have this. For Iraq,
its over.
One might argue that is an overly pessimistic view. But a resident
of Iraq from the West told of a good friend, an Iraqi, who had just celebrated
his daughters graduation from dental school. The man broke down. He had
had to sell everything he owned to pay for school and continue living.
It is an increasingly familiar tale. Von Sponeck told of new
street bazaars cropping up all over Baghdad where families are selling personal
belongings. Much of the inventory, he said, consists of books from private
libraries.
On the last day of our stay in Baghdad, I was introduced to a
young doctor who had been at the top of his classes through medical school. The
26-year-old sat in the living room of his familys modest flat in downtown
Baghdad, the frustration written on his face and in his gestures. High on the
wall were two large pictures of his father in academic attire. Education had
always been a principal pursuit in this family.
Now, however, a life of high academic achievement and steady
pursuit of a medical career had ground to a halt for the son. He refused to
take the next step -- a residency in thoracic surgery -- in Iraq, where the
latest texts and medical journals were nearly a decade old.
Across the room his sister, 24, nearing the end of a masters
program in English literature, begged for books. Her thesis on Tennyson was
languishing because the most recent reference sources to be found in all of
Iraq were from the mid-1980s. The Internet was a familiar word to them, but
neither has ever had the experience of using the technology.
Their mother, who asked that their names not be used, had retired
from a career teaching school. Earlier, the father and an older son had left
Iraq and were now in Libya. The son, an engineer, was working, and the father
had found a new university teaching position. So the family was able to survive
with money sent in from the outside.
The son and daughter in Iraq, both of whom had earlier been
educated in England, and the father and brother in Libya represent the latest
line of casualties in the silent war.
The son in Iraq said he is hoping for a scholarship from a
European school, a development that would make it easier to leave the country,
at least temporarily. Otherwise, he will have to figure how much to pay to whom
to get out of the country. We are locked up, he said. We
cant get out, and nothing can get in.
IRAQ AT A
GLANCE |
Location:
Between Iran and Kuwait with small access to the Persian Gulf, and bordered
also by Turkey and Syria to the north, Jordan to the east and Saudi Arabia to
the south. Population: 22.2 million
Ethinic Groups: Arab, 75-80 percent; Kurd,
15-20 percent; Turkmen, Assyrian or other, approximately 5 percent.
Religions: Muslim, 97 percent(Shia, more
than 60-65 percent; Sunni 32-37 percent), Christian or other, 3 percent.
Mesopotamia, as the Tigris and Euphrates valley was once called, was the
site of one of the earliest civilizations on earth. According to a Library
of Congress country profile, modern Iraq was shaped in large part by British
domination between 1918 and 1958. It was during that period that the boundaries
were drawn that severed what is now the tiny country of Kuwait from the rest of
Iraq. Between the overthrow of the monarchy in 1958 and the emergence
of Saddam Hussein in the mid-1970s, Iraqi history was a chronicle of
conspiracies, coups, countercoups and fierce Kurdish uprisings, the
profile states. The Baath Arab Socialist Party has ruled by decree since
1968. Saddam Hussein became president in 1979 and with months of taking office
instituted a bloody purge to quell rumors of a coup. For a few years during the
late 1970s and early 1980s, Saddam Hussein brought Iraq a period of unusual
stability and great prosperity. Rising oil revenues funded public service
projects throughout the country, as well as significant improvements in
education and health care. The period of prosperity and development is
credited with helping Iraq shape a national identity out of diverse ethnic and
religious groups. But the calm was short-lived. In 1980, Iraqui troops
crossed into Iran, and the long, costly period of war was underway that would
continue, with a brief respite in the late 1980s, until today. Iraq is under
severe U.N./U.S. sanctions and subject to continued bombings by the United
States in the extreme north and south no-fly zones.
|
Tom Roberts is NCRs managing editor. He can be
reached at troberts@natcath.org
Voices in the Wilderness web site: www.nonviolence.org/vitw/
National Catholic Reporter, May 21,
1999
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