The carnage
in Iraq continues, but what did anyone expect? Roadside bombs (IEDs)
take their deadly almost daily
toll on U.S. troops in and around Baghdad (and adjoining provinces).
Seventy-five Americans have already
died in March, at least 50 of them from roadside bombs. Of course,
that's a drop in the bucket, when it comes to Iraqi casualties.
The now widely discussed Lancet study of Iraqi "excess deaths"
between the invasion of March 2003 and June 2006 offered an estimated
figure of 655,000. Its careful, door-to-door methodology was vehemently
rejected by both George Bush (not "a credible report") and Tony
Blair. According to the British Broadcasting Corporation, however,
recently
obtained British government documents indicate that the study's
methodology was indeed sound. ("[T]he chief scientific adviser to
the Defense Ministry, Roy Anderson, described the methods used in
the study as ‘robust' and ‘close to best practice'… In another document,
a government official whose name has been blanked out
said ‘the survey methodology used here cannot be rubbished, it is
a tried and tested way of measuring mortality in conflict zones.'")
None of this
is likely to fully penetrate the mainstream in the U.S. During the
week of the fourth anniversary of the invasion of Iraq, both NBC
and ABC in their prime-time news shows typically continued to cite
the figure of 60,000 for Iraqi deaths despite the fact that
the U.N. Assistance Mission for Iraq calculated 34,452 Iraqi deaths
for 2006 alone and this is known to be an honest undercount,
because some bodies never make it to morgues or hospitals and, in
the embattled no-go zones of the Sunni insurgency, official reporting
of deaths is weak at best.
With the President's
surge plan well underway and "encouraging
signs" of progress in Baghdad already being hailed how
long can we be encouraged on the road to hell? Iraq is ever
more a charnel house, a killing ground. The latest real surge, as
Mike Davis tells us below, is in car
and truck bombs driven by Sunni jihadis. Last April,
Davis did a unique two-part series, "The
Poor Man's Air Force" and "Car
Bombs with Wings," which surely represented the first history
of the car bomb ever attempted. The remarkable author of Planet
of Slums has now turned those two pieces into a full-scale
history of this devastating weapon of our time in a new book, Buda's
Wagon: A Brief History of the Car Bomb. Since, on this roiling
planet, the car bomb may lie in all our futures, this is simply
a book not to miss. I recommend it most highly. ~ Tom
Have
the Car-bombers Already Defeated the Surge?
The Weapon No One Can Stop
By Mike
Davis
Despite
heroic reassurances from both the White House and the Pentagon
that the six-week-old U.S. escalation in Baghdad and al-Anbar
Province is proceeding on course, suicide car-bombers continue
to devastate Shiite and Sunni neighborhoods, often under the noses
of reinforced American patrols and checkpoints. Indeed, February
was a record
month for car bombings, with at least 44 deadly explosions
in Baghdad alone, and March promises to duplicate the carnage.
Car bombs,
moreover, continue to evolve in horror and lethality. In January
and March, the first chemical "dirty bomb" explosions took place
using chlorine gas, giving potential new meaning to the President's
missing weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. The sectarian guerrillas
who claim affiliation with "al-Qaeda in Mesopotamia" are now striking
savagely, and seemingly at will, against dissident Sunni tribes
in al-Anbar province as well as Shiite areas of Baghdad and Shiite
pilgrims on the highways to the south of the capital. With each
massacre, the bombers refute Bush administration claims that the
U.S. military can "take back and secure" Baghdad block-by-block
or establish its own patrols and new, fortified mini-bases as
a realistic substitute for local self-defense militias.
On February
23rd, for instance, shortly after the beginning of the "Surge,"
a suicide truck-bomber killed 36 Sunnis in Habbaniya, west of
Baghdad, after an imam at a local mosque had denounced al-Qaeda.
Ten days later, a kamikaze driver ploughed his truck bomb into
Baghdad's famed literary bazaar, the crowded corridor of bookstores
and coffee houses along
Mutanabi Street, incinerating at least 30 people and, perhaps,
the last hopes of an Iraqi intellectual renaissance.
On March 10th,
another suicide bomber massacred 20 people in Sadr City, just a
few hundred yards away from one of the new U.S. bases. The next
day, a bomber rammed his car into a flatbed truck full of Shiite
pilgrims, killing more than 30. A week later, horror exceeded itself
when a car bomber evidently used two little children as a decoy
to get through a military checkpoint, then exploded the car with
the kids still in the back seat.
In a demonstration
of a tactic that has proven especially deadly over the past year,
a car-bomb attack on March 23rd was coordinated with an assailant
in a suicide vest and almost
killed Deputy Prime Minister Salam al-Zubaie, whose tribal
alliance, the Anbar Salvation Council, has accepted funding from
the Americans and been denounced by the jihadis.
When it
comes to the development of suicide vehicles, however, the most
alarming innovation has, without doubt, been the debut in January
of truck bombs carrying chlorine gas tanks rigged with explosives.
Of course, "dirty bombs," usually of the nuclear variety, have
been a longtime obsession of anti-terrorism experts (as well as
the producers of TV potboilers), but the sinister glamour of radioactive
devices scattering deadly radiological waste in the City
of London or across midtown Manhattan has tended to overshadow
the far greater likelihood that bomb-makers would initially be
attracted to the cheapness and ease of combining explosives with
any number of ordinary industrial caustics and toxins.
As if to
emphasize that poison-gas explosions were now part of their standard
arsenal, sectarian bombers identified, as usual, by the
American military as members of "al-Qaeda in Mespotamia"
unleashed three successive chlorine suicide-bomb attacks on March
16th against Sunni towns outside of Falluja. The two largest attacks
involved dump trucks loaded with 200-gallon chlorine tanks. Aside
from the dozens wounded or killed by the direct explosions, at
least another
350 people were stricken by the yellow-green clouds of chlorine.
As in April
1915, with the first uses of chlorine gas on the Western Front
in World War I, these explosions sowed widespread panic, underlining
as the bombers no doubt intended the inability of
the Americans to protect potential allies in al-Anbar Province,
the heartland of the Sunni insurgency. (The recent discovery
of stocks of chlorine and nitric acid in a Sunni neighborhood
of west Baghdad will hardly assuage those fears.)
The shock
waves from the March dirty bombs also rattled windows on the Hudson
River, where New York Police Department (NYPD) experts warned
the media that poor security at local chemical plants raised the
danger of copy-cat attacks using stolen ingredients. An anonymous
senior official in the department's Counter-Terrorism Bureau told
Reuters
that "the NYPD expected would-be attackers targeting New York
to try to import the tactic." At the same time, New Jersey's two
Democratic Senators Robert Menendez and Frank Lautenberg
complained
that the Bush administration was coddling the chemical industry
by blocking New Jersey and other states from implementing tougher
safety regulations.
Meanwhile,
back in Iraq, the chlorine clouds and the truck bombs have deflected
U.S. troops into a massive, desperate hunt for the "makeshift
car-bomb factories" that Major General William Caldwell, chief
spokesman for the Surge, claims
proliferate in the gritty suburbs and industrial estates that
ring Baghdad.
The image
of a clandestine car-bomb industry, by the way, is rich with irony.
Baghdad's factory belt contains hundreds of state-owned and private
factories that once manufactured canned food, tiles, baby clothes,
transit buses, fertilizers, commercial glass, and the like. Since
the American invasion, however, the plants are idle, if not derelict,
and their once integrated Sunni-Shiite workforces are bunkered down,
jobless, in increasingly sectarian neighborhoods. Unemployment in
greater Baghdad is variously estimated in the 4060% range.
It is unlikely
that the current raids using troops who would otherwise be
securing streets and "winning hearts and minds" will uncover
more than a tiny fraction of the city's bomb "factories." Indeed,
the car bomb even more than the roadside bombs (IEDs) that
are filling the Humvee junkyards has proven globally to be
an almost invincible weapon of the ill-armed and underfunded, as
well as the one weapon of mass destruction that the Bush administration
has totally ignored. None of the American commanders in the field
in 20032004, much less the imperial daydreamers in neoconservative
think-tanks back in Washington, seem to have foreseen the ubiquity
of its use.
According
to a national cross-sectional cluster sample survey of mortality
in Iraq since the U.S. invasion, carried out by epidemiologists
at Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health and Iraqi physicians
(organized through Mustansiriya University in Baghdad), an estimated
78,000 Iraqis were killed by several thousand vehicle bombings between
March 2003 and June 2006. Moreover, as I explain in my newly-published
history of the car bomb, Buda's
Wagon, there is little hope for any technological fix or scientific
miracle that will allow reliable detection of a stolen Mercedes
with 500 pounds of C-4 in the trunk or a dump truck laden with chlorine
tanks and high explosives idling in one of Baghdad's colossal traffic
jams. (Checkpoints? Just a synonym for target of opportunity.)
In the meantime,
the bombers are obviously wagering that if they can sustain current
levels of carnage, the Shiite militias will be forced back onto
the streets to protect their neighborhoods (as the
American troops can't), risking a bloody, all-out confrontation
with U.S. forces for the ownership of the vast Shiite slum of Sadr
City and other Shiite areas in eastern Baghdad. On the other side,
Lieutenant General David Petraeus, counterinsurgency expert and
mastermind of the Surge, must shut down the car-bombers by the beginning
of the summer or face a likely popular revolt in Sadr City. With
each explosion, his chances of success diminish.