Seumas Milne
Thursday December 20, 2001
The Guardian
The price in blood that has already been paid for America's war
against terror is only now starting to become clear. Not by Britain or
the US, nor even so far by the al-Qaida and Taliban leaders held
responsible for the September 11 attacks on New York and Washington.
It has instead been paid by ordinary Afghans, who had nothing whatever
to do with the atrocities, didn't elect the Taliban theocrats who
ruled over them and had no say in the decision to give house room to
Bin Laden and his friends.
The Pentagon has been characteristically coy about how many people
it believes have died under the missiles it has showered on
Afghanistan. Acutely sensitive to the impact on international support
for the war, spokespeople have usually batted away reports of civilian
casualties with a casual "these cannot be independently confirmed", or
sometimes simply denied the deaths occurred at all. The US media have
been particularly helpful. Seven weeks into the bombing campaign, the
Los Angeles Times only felt able to hazard the guess that "at least
dozens of civilians" had been killed.
Now, for the first time, a systematic independent study has been
carried out into civilian casualties in Afghanistan by Marc Herold, a
US economics professor at the University of New Hampshire. Based on
corroborated reports from aid agencies, the UN, eyewitnesses, TV
stations, newspapers and news agencies around the world, Herold
estimates that at least 3,767 civilians were killed by US bombs
between October 7 and December 10. That is an average of 62 innocent
deaths a day - and an even higher figure than the 3,234 now thought to
have been killed in New York and Washington on September 11.
Of course, Herold's total is only an estimate. But what is
impressive about his work is not only the meticulous cross-checking,
but the conservative assumptions he applies to each reported incident.
The figure does not include those who died later of bomb injuries; nor
those killed in the past 10 days; nor those who have died from cold
and hunger because of the interruption of aid supplies or because they
were forced to become refugees by the bombardment. It does not include
military deaths (estimated by some analysts, partly on the basis of
previous experience of the effects of carpet-bombing, to be upwards of
10,000), or those prisoners who were slaughtered in Mazar-i-Sharif,
Qala-i-Janghi, Kandahar airport and elsewhere.
Champions of the war insist that such casualties are an
unfortunate, but necessary, byproduct of a just campaign to root out
global terror networks. They are a world apart, they argue, from the
civilian victims of the attacks on the World Trade Centre because, in
the case of the Afghan civilians, the US did not intend to kill them.
In fact, the moral distinction is far fuzzier, to put it at its
most generous. As Herold argues, the high Afghan civilian death rate
flows directly from US (and British) tactics and targeting. The
decision to rely heavily on high-altitude air power, target urban
infrastructure and repeatedly attack heavily populated towns and
villages has reflected a deliberate trade-off of the lives of American
pilots and soldiers, not with those of their declared Taliban enemies,
but with Afghan civilians. Thousands of innocents have died over the
past two months, not mainly as an accidental byproduct of the decision
to overthrow the Taliban regime, but because of the low value put on
Afghan civilian lives by US military planners.
Raids on targets such as the Kajakai dam power station, Kabul's
telephone exchange, the al-Jazeera TV station office, lorries and
buses filled with refugees and civilian fuel trucks were not mistakes.
Nor were the deaths that they caused. The same goes for the use of
anti-personnel cluster bombs in urban areas. But western public
opinion has become increasingly desensitised to what has been done in
its name. After US AC-130 gunships strafed the farming village of
Chowkar-Karez in October, killing at least 93 civilians, a Pentagon
official felt able to remark: "the people there are dead because we
wanted them dead", while US defence secretary Donald Rumsfeld
commented: "I cannot deal with that particular village."
Yesterday, Rumsfeld inadvertently conceded what little impact the
Afghan campaign (yet to achieve its primary aim of bringing Bin Laden
and the al-Qaida leadership to justice) has had on the terrorist
threat, by speculating about ever more cataclysmic attacks, including
on London. There will be no official two-minute silence for the Afghan
dead, no newspaper obituaries or memorial services attended by the
prime minister, as there were for the victims of the twin towers. But
what has been cruelly demonstrated is that the US and its camp
followers are prepared to sacrifice thousands of innocents in a
coward's war.

s.milne@guardian.co.uk