The Unnamed Dead of Iraq
by
Tom Engelhardt
and Judith Coburn
by Tom Engelhardt and
Judith Coburn
On July 23,
2003, not quite four months after Baghdad had been occupied by American
troops, Tomdispatch published a piece by Jack Miles, author of the
Pulitzer Prize winning book God: A Biography, entitled How
Many Iraqis Have We Killed? At that time, less
than 100 Americans had died in the "post-war" era in Iraq, while
untold numbers of Iraqis were dying in those same months. The Bush
administration and the Pentagon were already invested in not counting,
or even acknowledging, Iraqi deaths, and the media had already established
a habit of leaving those deaths largely unconsidered and unnamed.
Miles suggested that "at stake was American honor." He asked: "Will
it be said years from now, perhaps even months from now that
in the first preemptive war in American history, Americans did not
ask and did not want to know how many Iraqis they had killed and
did not consider it their responsibility to so much as notify the
orphans, the widows, and the bereaved parents?"
The answer
to that question has long been in and, as Judith Coburn, a journalist
who once covered the carnage of the Vietnam War, indicates below,
it's a sorry answer indeed. Back in that now-distant time, to introduce
Miles' piece, I wrote:
"Each
day, for instance, a modest box labeled ‘Names of the Dead' yesterday
with five names: Bertoldie, Joel L, Garvey, Justin W, Jordan, Jason
D., Rozier, Jonathan D, and Whetstone, Mason Douglas is nestled
on the inside page devoted to Iraq stories in my hometown paper
the New York Times. Our casualties have, in fact, turned
into a kind of countdown or count up though to what still
remains in question."
What our casualties
were already a countdown to seems horrifically clearer today, while
the casualties of the people we claimed to be liberating still remain
largely missing in action.
Two years
later, the latest "Names of the Dead" box at the bottom corner of
page 9 of Friday's Times notes: "The Department of Defense
has identified 1,752 American service members who have died since
the start of the Iraq war. It confirmed the death of the following
American yesterday. YAHUDAH, Benyahmin B. 24, Specialist, Army;
Bogart, Ga.; Third Infantry Division."
Benyahmin
B. Yahudah was killed when
a suicide bomber detonated his SUV near a U.S. military vehicle
surrounded by Iraqi children, many of whom died in the blast. We
are told in reports
from Iraq that, in the last few days, two Marines, whose names
will in due course be included in one of those boxed announcements,
were killed when their vehicle struck an IED near the Jordanian
border, and seven Americans were wounded in a string of suicide
bomb blasts and explosions across the Baghdad area which killed
at least 29 Iraqis, many (but hardly all of them) policemen and
soldiers, and wounded perhaps another 104.
Of those Iraqis
as opposed to the Londoners who died (or survived) the recent
subway and bus bombings there will be no stirring portraits of
stiff-upper-lip courage or of horror. Hardly even the odd name.
Not here anyway. In this country, there is something impersonal,
numbingly distant, and unreal about Iraqi deaths, even though the
dead Iraqis too had parents and relatives, friends and neighbors,
husbands, wives, or lovers, possibly children of their own.
When it comes
to Iraqis, in fact, even the simplest official figures have been
hard to come by. As a result, the carnage we unleashed in the now
failed-state of Iraq in the wake of our invasion is hard even to
grasp. Based on rare figures for Iraqi deaths that Sabrina
Tavernise of the New York Times succeeded in getting
the Iraqi Health Ministry to release, Juan Cole recently concluded
the following at his Informed
Comment blog:
"[The
ministry officials] estimate about 8,000 [dead Iraqi civilians]
in the past 10 months, or 800 per month. This number appears not
to include persons killed by US military action. Even if the figure
of 300,000 for the number of civilian victims of the Baath regime
[of Saddam Hussein] is not an exaggeration, that would be over 37
years, or 8,000 per year. That is, American Iraq is presiding over
a civilian death rate greater than the highest estimates per month
per capita for that of the Baath regime."
As he notes,
even those figures are exceedingly partial, leaving out as they
do the deaths of Iraqi soldiers as well as those of Iraqis who have
died due to U.S. military action. Consider now Judith Coburn's in
depth look at just how we have treated Iraqi civilian deaths. ~ Tom
Unnamed
and Unnoticed: Iraqi Casualties
By Judith
Coburn
How many Iraqis
have died in our war in their country? Is there a better symbol
of how the war for Iraq has already been lost than our ignorance
about the cost of the war to Iraqis?
"Cost of the
war": a cliché to normalize the carnage, like the anaesthetizing
term "collateral damage" and that new semantic horror, "torture
lite." And yet the "cost of the war" report, by now a hackneyed
convention of American journalism, includes only American casualties
no Iraqis itself a violation of the American mainstream media's
own professed commitment to "objectivity." Three years of "anniversary"
articles in the American media adding up the so-called "cost of
the war" in Iraq have focused exclusively on Americans killed, American
dollars spent, American hardware destroyed, with barely a mention
of the Iraqi dead as part of that "cost."
The dead are
counted. But they are Americans. The names are named. But they are
Americans. The names and numbers of the dead are intoned aloud or
their photographs papered on media "walls" and they are always only
American.
Publishing
or pronouncing the names of the American dead every day without
ever mentioning the names of the Iraqi dead offers a powerful message
that only American dying matters. In Indochina, during the years
I covered that war, we counted but didn't name Americans. That wasn't
done until after the war was over. We never counted and never named
the Vietnamese, Cambodian, and Lao dead. Still today, though the
estimates run into the millions, there is no reliable count of how
many Indochinese died or were hurt in our war there. Not to mention
El Salvador, Nicaragua, Panama, Haiti, and the First Gulf War.
But there's
no way to count, protest American journalists. What they mean is
that the Pentagon doesn't count for them "We don't do counts,"
was the way General Tommy Franks put the matter during our Afghan
war. But Iraq Body Count
(IBC) counts as does the
Brookings Institute among others. As of July 13, IBC estimated
Iraqi civilian casualties to be between 22,838 and 25,869, an extremely
conservative number. (The range between the two figures represents
occasional discrepancies in the number of civilian casualties reported
by different media sources about the same incident). So what journalists
really mean is that only Pentagon counting counts and that the prosecutor
of the war is the only "reliable" source on the magnitude of its
own killing. Pentagon casualty figures are rarely questioned. When
anyone else counts, these figures are given short shrift.
Who Counts
The alternative
media, bloggers included, have seized on Gen. Franks' words with
outrage. But the fact is the Pentagon does count. It just doesn't
care to add those dead bodies up, let alone tell the American public
or the rest of the world how many dead Iraqis there have been or
how many more are being killed at this very moment. In Iraq, as
in Vietnam and the first Gulf war, every unit of the American military
must file "after action" reports about any "contact" with the enemy.
Most of these include injuries and deaths to civilians (even if
these are often counted as enemy-soldier deaths to cover them up,
a practice the media eventually exposed in Vietnam, but has not
yet explored in Iraq). Also, any injury or death of a suspected
civilian is supposed to be reported in a separate "incident" report.
"We do keep records of innocent civilians who are killed accidentally
by coalition force soldiers," Brig. Gen. Mark Hertling, assistant
commander for the First Armored Division, told
New York Times reporter Jeffrey Gettleman last year.
"And, in fact, in every one of those innocent death situations,
we conduct internal investigations to determine what happened."
The military
also has a compensation program for victims injured or killed by
American soldiers under the Foreign Claims Act. The bar for qualifying
for this program is absurdly high the victim must know and be
able to prove which specific military unit injured or killed her
or his relative, have a claim form filled out by that unit admitting
its responsibility, have two witnesses and produce copies of medical
reports, not to mention being willing in the first place to approach
the very forces who inflicted the suffering. Compensation is apparently
approved for only 50% of those who get up the nerve to file for
it. But the military does at least have figures on how many Iraqis
have been compensated, which it has refused to release, even to
Vermont Senator Patrick Leahy, who requested them. CNN, Newsday,
the Associated Press, and the Christian Science Monitor have
managed to ferret out a partial count: the Pentagon doled out $2.2
million to Iraqis between May, 2003 and February, 2004 with 5,700
out of 11,300 cases approved. (But since such compensation includes
damage to property and people wounded as well as killed, this figure
doesn't translate into numbers of civilian casualties).
Under another
American government program, the Iraqi War Victims Fund, mandated
by Congress and renamed for young aid worker Marla Ruzicka after
her death in a car-bomb attack in Baghdad, $2.4 billion in relief
and reconstruction funds will include compensation for Iraqi civilian
casualties. Once details are worked out of how the victims will
be found, there might be figures of some sort, should the Bush administration
deign to release them.
As for Iraq
Body Count's methods, to be added to their count of civilians killed,
each civilian death must be reported by two separate media sources
from IBC's approved list of media websites and then cross-checked
by two different IBC staffers from the original compiler. More important,
IBC counts only civilian deaths inflicted by US-led coalition forces,
so civilians killed by suicide bombers, insurgent attacks, or the
increasing number of assassinations and kidnappings by insurgents
and others are not reflected in their totals. As a result, the IBC
figures certainly now greatly underestimate the actual toll of the
ongoing war on Iraqi civilians by far the highest "cost" of the
war.
Human Rights
Watch reports that while coalition forces killed more Iraqi civilians
than the insurgents did in the early months of the war, now insurgents
are killing many more civilians than coalition forces. The
Education for Peace in Iraq project, a non-profit group of antiwar
Gulf War veterans, Iraqis, and others, reports that insurgents are
now killing 15 times the number of civilians killed by coalition
forces and that the number of civilians killed by insurgents has
doubled since the first six months of 2004. Just last week, the
New York Times front-paged rare Iraqi Interior Ministry
figures showing insurgents are now killing an average of 800 Iraqi
policemen and civilians a month.
It's hardly
surprising that the Pentagon is loath to tell us how many innocent
Iraqis it has killed. It's a political issue. Early in the war,
the Iraqi Health Ministry ordered morgues and hospitals to count
the number of war dead and wounded coming in. They reported 1,764
civilians killed in the summer of 2003. But the American occupation's
Coalition Provisional Authority (CPA) ordered them to stop counting.
After the interim Iraqi government took over, the Health Ministry
tried again to count but was ordered in October, 2004 by the new
government of Prime Minister Iyad Allawi to stop releasing the figures.
Last week's Interior Ministry figures, given to the Times
at its request, are the first official Iraqi counts to be released
since then.
The lack of
"official" figures, however, shouldn't absolve the media
or Americans from their blindness to Iraqi suffering, since
available figures, incomplete as they are, are staggering for a
guerrilla war. Reliable sources have certainly done their best to
count, sources like IBC, Brookings, and the Iraqi and American epidemiologists
who estimated in a study published in the
British medical journal the Lancet that 100,000 Iraqis
might have died in the war by September, 2004.
These sources
are admittedly critical of the war. But as such, are they less "objective"
than the Pentagon? The American media apparently thinks so. Yet
Iraq Body Count's figures are clearly conservative exactly because
they depend on media reports. Because it is now so dangerous for
journalists to travel outside Baghdad or even the capital's "Green
Zone" where Westerners huddle, many Iraqi deaths go unreported and
are thus uncounted by IBC. (Using hospital or morgue records also
results in an undercount since Iraqis often don't bring their dead,
or near-dead, to chronically overwhelmed, understaffed hospitals
and morgues). Ironically, IBC, once heralded as a brilliantly conceived
breakthrough in monitoring war casualties impossible without
the Internet is now an object of some dismay among anti-war activists
because its methodology inevitably leads to a casualty undercount.
"Collateral
Damage" as a Collateral Story
Most of the
American media have now had their one dutiful piece on IBC. But
is it such a radical idea for, say, the New York Times to
have a box next to its daily listing of Americans killed in Iraq
with IBC's or Brookings' Iraq Index count of how many Iraqis have
been killed by coalition forces? A header could explain the source,
just as one now cites the Pentagon as the source for Americans killed.
Why, when Ted Koppel read the names of the American dead on Nightline
on the anniversary of the war, couldn't he have added at least a
few Iraqi names to the list?
The politics
of counting got thick the week before the American presidential
election when the Lancet, the British medical journal, put
on line a study by American and Iraqi epidemiologists comparing
death rates before and after the March 2003 invasion. The study
estimated that at least 100,000 Iraqis (and possibly many more)
had died in the 18 months that followed the invasion of Iraq who
would not have died had the war not happened. Coalition air strikes
were the largest cause of violent death. The international media
has generally misreported the 100,000 as estimated civilian deaths.
But the study actually makes clear that the 100,000 estimate includes
all Iraqi dead police, soldiers and insurgents as well as civilians.
Last week, Swiss
researchers announced at a UN press conference that, using the
data from the Lancet study, they estimated that, out of the
estimated 100,000 dead Iraqis, 39,000 were civilians who had been
killed since the war began.
The Lancet
study was based on interviews by a team of Iraqi scientists. It
made headlines in Europe but dropped like a stone in the U.S. (as
did the recent Swiss report). The study's lead American author Johns
Hopkins Professor of Public Health Les Roberts may have shot himself
in the foot by rushing the study out in the midst of 24/7 election
coverage in the U.S. He admitted to Lila
Guterman of The Chronicle of Higher Education that he
was anti-Bush and hoped to swing votes away from the President.
Had the study been released after the election, however, in a more
sober, scientific way, the American media might still have buried
it, as it has the whole issue of civilian casualties. Only the
Washington Post took much notice. But the Post
got Human Rights Watch military expert Mark Garlasco on the record
opining that the figure was way too high (even though he hadn't
read the report). Without the respected HWR imprimatur, there was
even more reason than election mania for the rest of the American
media to spike the report. Ironically, it may have been the American
media's own longstanding blindness to the suffering of Iraqi civilians
that made the 100,000 estimate seem too shockingly high to
be credible to American reporters and their editors.
Only the enterprising
Lila
Guterman followed up, interviewing other epidemiologists around
the country, who found the methodology and the study itself to be
sound. Guterman also underlined the incredible bravery of the Iraqi
scientists who risked their lives traveling throughout Iraq even
to radical Sunni strongholds like Fallujah to interview Iraqis
about how many of their families had been killed or injured in the
war. (What does it say about the mainstream media that except
for the Associated Press and recently the New York Times
crucial stories about Iraqi civilian casualties are being broken
here by publications like Editor and Publisher and the Chronicle
of Higher Education?)
Granted, it's
impossible for any individual journalist in Iraq to count how many
Iraqi civilians have been hurt in the war. You'd have to visit every
battle site, every morgue, and every hospital every day in
a country where, for reporters, it's dangerous just to leave your
hotel. Then there is the problem of distinguishing who is a civilian
and who is an insurgent in a guerilla war where combatants don't
wear uniforms. But a few American journalists haven't taken that
as an excuse not to try to count as best they can. The Associated
Press, under New York editor Richard Pyle (AP's longtime Saigon
Bureau Chief during the Vietnam War), was the first and only news
organization to ask its reporters in Iraq to try to count the civilian
dead soon after the invasion. On June 11, 2003, AP reported that
3,240 Iraqis civilians had been killed up to that moment in the
war, based on a survey of 60 of Iraq's largest hospitals. AP reporters,
especially
Niko Price, have stayed on the civilian casualty story, continuing
to monitor civilian casualties regularly, reporting soaring casualties
in hard fought battles like one for Hillah or the siege of Fallujah
last November where approximately 600 civilians reportedly died.
AP broke the
story of the CPA suppression of the Health Ministry's count of civilian
deaths, reported the huge increase in car bombs after the handover
of sovereignty and alone in the mainstream American media
included Iraqi casualty figures as well as American ones
in their "anniversary" pieces about "the cost of the war." The New
York Times especially reporter Sabrina Tavernise
has recently stepped up coverage of civilian casualties. One ingenious
survey effort for the Times, written by Norimitsu
Onishi with reporting by the paper's Iraqi staff (unnamed, perhaps
for their safety) reported that in one week October 1117,
2004 208 Iraqis died, including policemen, civilians, journalists,
politicians and soldiers. (It did not include deaths in Kurdish
areas). The story pulled together sources from hospitals, the Iraqi
and American military, news sources and reporting by Iraqi reporters
for the Times.
But stories
highlighting the magnitude of Iraqi suffering have been rare indeed.
A study by George
Washington University researchers found that American television
coverage of the invasion of Iraq itself was remarkably sanitized.
Only 13.5% of the 1,710 TV news stories they reviewed from the start
of the war to the fall of Baghdad on April 9, 2003 included shots
of wounded or dead Americans or Iraqis. Only 4% showed any dead.
One reason the war may seem so inconsequential to so many Americans
is that the casualties, as reported in the American media, are almost
exclusively American and so are relatively modest (though hardly
inconsequential, of course, to those who knew and cared for the
dead). "Collateral damage" has lived up to its name. Iraqi casualties
have been collateral to the story of the war told by most American
journalists just as they have been to the warmakers in Washington
and London.
War in
Another Galaxy
Counting the
dead, however, may not finally be the point. Numbers seldom convey
human suffering in a way that moves the distant onlooker. Most coverage
of Iraqi civilian casualties is anecdotal the daily carnage of
yet more suicide bombs, the daily photo of ripped-up cars and ripped
apart bodies. Unnamed victims, and all of them except rarely
Iraqi.
While there
has been some fine reporting out of Iraq by journalists like the
Washington Post's Anthony Shadid, there is no one in Iraq
like Gloria Emerson, the New York Times' prize-winning reporter
in Vietnam, with her boundless outrage against the war and her novelist's
eye. Emerson's war wasn't the "bang bang" (as she called it). She
covered war from the graveyards where Vietnamese mourned their dead
and from the streets where homeless kids hustled GIs and lepers
held out their babies for alms. Her story was how the Vietnamese
got by day-by-day in the war, simply how they could stand it. So
far in Iraq there has been no Gloria Emerson listening, as she did
one night in Saigon, to her Vietnamese interpreter Nguyen Ngoc Luong
and his office mates recite from memory verses from "The Tale of
Kieu," Vietnam's great epic poem, their psychic bulwark against
the mayhem that was devouring their country. But that kind of passionate
identification with the people of a war-torn country, that kind
of dare we call it personal journalism which might
help summon American empathy for the Iraqi victims of our war machine,
isn't in fashion these days. Media cool and caution rule in our
culture of fear.
There are
photographs, even a few great war photographs, coming out of Iraq.
Peter Turnley's photo essay in Harper's, "The Bereaved,"
which matched images of Iraqis and Americans mourning their dead
is magnificent. But this isn't Vietnam the first "television
war," as Michael Arlen so aptly named it. East Timor, Somalia, the
first Gulf War, Bosnia, Rwanda, Chechnya, Darfur, Congo... The list
goes on and on. By now, there have been so many TV wars, so many
grisly scenes, that they all blur together. Star
Wars is so much more exciting anyway, closer to home in
the cineplex or on DVD, and it's all happening far away in another
galaxy. There's no military draft to concentrate kids' and parents'
attention. And it isn't the Sixties cynicism reigns rather
than the reach for freedom that led so many Americans then to take
on the powers that be. Should the war intrude? Follow the advice
of Brig. Gen. Mark Kimmitt, who, when asked about images of Iraqi
civilians killed by Americans on TV, recommended: "Change the channel."
Patterns
of Brutality
Another part
of the civilian casualty story neglected by our media involves American
military tactics that have inflicted unnecessary suffering on civilians.
The indispensable Human Rights Watch, which has staff specialists
in military affairs, has done two detailed research reports on some
of these patterns. The October, 2003 report Hearts
and Minds charged that American soldiers often used "indiscriminate
force," especially at checkpoints after insurgent bombings, and
also in raids on civilian houses, causing many civilian casualties.
Few of these injuries to civilians are investigated by the military,
HWR found. The report pointed out that many checkpoints were manned
and house searches conducted by soldiers who had been trained for
combat, not policing, and called for more training in police techniques.
Although a
December, 2003 HRW report, Off
Target, found that "US-led coalition forces took precautions
to spare civilians," it decried the use of cluster munitions (launched
both from the air and the ground) by the American military. These
particularly vicious weapons, which pepper victims with shrapnel
so small that the shards shred flesh and are impossible to remove,
are being used in Iraqi cities. They can maim long after their original
use. The unexploded bomblets remain live and go off, often in the
hands of children. "Tens of thousands of duds" litter Iraq as
they still do Vietnam, Cambodia, and many other war-torn countries
the report charges. HRW reported that cluster bombs had caused
"at least hundreds of civilian casualties" by June, 2003.
Besides cluster
munitions, a new and improved version of napalm, the Vietnam War's
other most grisly weapon, and its chemical cousin white phosphorous,
have been used by American forces in Iraq, a fact known to few Americans
because our media has barely reported on the subject. The Pentagon
has admitted that it used
napalm near the Kuwaiti border during the invasion, though the
use seems to have been more widespread than the Pentagon said. For
instance, the Bush Administration reportedly lied
to its British allies about its use. (In Europe, the evident
use of
napalm by the U.S. in its assault on the Iraqi city of Fallujah
last November sparked headlines and furious opposition in the British
Parliament.)
Almost nothing
has been reported in the American media about bombing operations
in Iraq and especially the use of bunker-buster bombs to target
what the U.S. military calls "high value targets" or insurgent leaders,
who are often dug deep in heavily populated urban neighborhoods.
HWR's "Off Target" examined four such attacks and charged that they
caused "dozens of civilian casualties" while failing to kill the
targeted leaders. Six months after "Off Target" was released, a
front-page piece in the New
York Times on such targeted attacks actually quoted Human
Rights Watch. But the piece focused on the spectacular "zero success
rate" of the leadership raids, not civilian casualties caused by
the bombing.
Such Human
Rights Watch reports usually receive dutiful but cursory one-time
coverage in the American media. A few hundred words on page 14,
a few seconds on the evening news. Hardly the kind of media spotlight
that could turn Iraqi suffering into a burning issue for most Americans.
So far, these laudable reports haven't been able to change the nature
of the Iraq War story in the United States. The
Faces of the Fallen, as the Washington Post calls its
daily count, remain American.
Still,
a few million Americans in today's antiwar movement care how many
Iraqis are dying and are committed to honoring them. When the American
Friends Service Committee put its exhibit Eyes
Wide Open on the road with a pair of boots for every American
soldier who has died in Iraq, it also had a "Wall of Remembrance"
with the names of more than 11,000 Iraqis who have died in the war.
The Iraqis' names, as well as the American ones, were read at ceremonies
at the AFSC wall, the way veterans read the names of the American
but not the Indochinese dead at the Vietnam Veterans' Memorial
in Washington.
While
in the Capitol these days there may be no Sen. William Fulbright
(whose hearings on the Vietnam War galvanized official Washington),
there is some eloquence and even some action about Iraqi suffering
from a few politicians like West Virginia Sen. Robert Byrd, Massachusetts
Sen. Edward Kennedy, who also campaigned vigorously to help Vietnamese
war victims forty years ago, and Vermont's Sen. Patrick Leahy. As
Leahy reminded his colleagues in a speech on the Senate floor this
May 10: "More than 90% of the casualties in World War I were soldiers.
That changed in World War II and since then, it is overwhelmingly
civilians who suffer the casualties. Yet while rosters are kept
of the fallen soldiers, no official record is kept of the civilians.
This is wrong. It denies those victims the dignity of being counted,
the respect of being honored and it prevents their families from
receiving the help they need."
July
18, 2005
Tom
Engelhardt [send him mail]
is editor of TomDispatch.com,
a project of the Nation
Institute. He
is the author of several books, including The
Last Days of Publishing: A Novel and The
End of Victory Culture. Journalist Judith Coburn has covered
war and its aftermath in Indochina, Central America, and the Middle
East for the Village Voice, Pacifica Radio, the Far Eastern
Economic Review, Mother Jones, the Los Angeles Times,
the New York Times, and the San Francisco Chronicle,
among others.
Copyright
© 2005 Judith Coburn
Tom
Engelhardt Archives
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