The Falcon   |   Volume 81, Issue 26

Published 6/02/10   |   Log In

A forbidden passage into Iraq

By RACHEL RAY STEELE, Guest Writer

Published: May 29, 2002

In a quest for the truth and out of responsibility for the choices of my government, I found myself traveling in the forbidden country of Iraq over the past few weeks, carrying forbidden goods, including medical and school supplies. I bear witness to the destruction of a whole population and, as a result, I am at risk of 12 years in prison and over $1 million in fines.

How much will the truth cost?

Signs of the Gulf War

Rebar from a bombed bridge snarls its teeth as a reminder to all those who lived through the horror of the Gulf War. Now new life is present as Hida, Hansa and Ali, in bright shorts and proud smiles, flip, jump and plummet into the Shatt Al Arab River below. Ironically, this sign of war has out of convenience been used to facilitate play.

This destroyed bridge, which was only built a few years before the war, is just one of many examples of the United States' intended destruction of Iraq's infrastructure. Many TV and radio stations, electrical plants, sewage treatment plants, schools, bridges, mosques, churches and homes were hit by U.S. bombs during the Gulf War, or, as many Iraqis call it, the "Bush War."

United Nations Security Council Resolution 661 imposing economic sanctions was adopted so soon after the war that much of the damaging effects of U.S. bombs still continue. The country was unable to make repairs. For example, there are frequent power shortages.

Unclean water is another major problem in Iraq. Tun Myat, assistant secretary of the UN and humanitarian coordinator for Iraq, commented, "I consider water and sanitation to be the biggest killer of children in this country."

The oil-for-food program was instituted in 1996 as a way of giving 30 percent of Iraq's oil revenues back to them to exchange for humanitarian good. This equals 33 cents a day per person. Mr. Myat's two predecessors, Denis Halliday and Hans von Sponeck both resigned in protest of the inhumane conditions under sanctions.

When asked by one of our delegates how much control the United States has on the 661 committee, which monitors all goods that enter Iraq through oil-for-food, Mr. Myat grinned and proclaimed, "Madam, the U.S. is 661!"

Hospitals Without Hope

In the hospitals, ward after ward is filled with chattering mothers embracing each other through the suffering. Colorful scarves and black abayahs frequently swish through the air to keep the flies away, and are readjusted when our delegation of 15 people enter the ward. The mothers sit attentively with their sick children on hospital beds. Some of the children's eyes are curious and vivacious; some are hollow and near death.

There is always a shortage of supplies and medicines, because many items requested are put on hold by the 661 committee for further questioning. According to Mr. Myat, holds are the biggest problem of the oil-for-food program. Questions are usually raised about dual use of requested items. While the wheels of bureaucracy are turned, life is fading away.

The stories begin to be told. Zainel, 5 years old, bleeding disorder, 60 blood transfusions, two sisters who have died before her at ages 2 and 6. Akmed, 12 years old, leukemia for two and a half years. Kerar, 14 years old, thalassemia; here with his father and his brother Saif, 9 years old, four more siblings at home.

In America, children go to the hospital to get well. In Iraq, children go the hospital to die.

Wesamm, a 10-year-old boy in his regal garb of royal blue and deep green, sits on his hospital bed with his father, Maleck.

Dr. Janan Ghlib Hassan lifts up his garment to reveal the scar stretching across his abdomen. Wesamm will die soon, Dr. Janan says, without medicine to threat the cancerous mass.

Leukemia rates have grown exponentially since the end of the Gulf War. Experts such as Dr. Souad Al Azzawi have conducted substantial research that points to the U.S. use of depleted uranium as a likely culprit.

Depleted uranium is a heavy metal and therefore used on the tip of many U.S. missiles. It is also mildly radioactive.

The rate of severe congenital malformation has also gone up drastically, from .001 percent to 3 percent. The south of Iraq around Basrah, the area most heavily bombed by depleted uranium, has seen the most devastating effects. Dr. Janan escorted us into her office to show us her growing photo collection of these grotesque little bodies. Some are recognizable as human children; some are so malformed they only look like a mass of bloody flesh. Most of them die shortly before, or just after, birth.

Irrevocable Mistakes

In Al Jumheriya, which was once a middle-class neighborhood, Um Khaidar and Salah invite us into their home that they share with 22 other people. Little eyes peer at us through the curtains as Um Khaidar tells us the story of U.S. missiles that killed her 6-year-old boy, Khaidar, and three other neighborhood kids on Jan. 25, 1999.

Many others were injured, including Mustafa, her other son, who is now 7 years old. Mustafa shyly hides in the doorway as his mother explains that he has a fragment of missile inside his body. The medical treatment he needs to save his life cannot be obtained in Iraq.

When Um Khaidar is asked for a picture of her son, her witty humor begins to melt. Tears well up in her eyes. The United States said the missiles were a mistake. Sorry.

Al Jumheriya is not the only incident of such a mistake. On Feb. 14, 1991 at 4 a.m., two U.S. "smart bombs" entered the ventilation shafts of a civilian bomb shelter in Amariyah. The screams were lost as the temperatures rose to 900 degrees Fahrenheit. Over 400 people died. Only 14 survived. Four days later the United States said it was a mistake. Faded photographs line the walls in memory of the victims' lives. Black shadows on the walls and little hand imprints on the ceiling are a reminder of the victims' deaths.

A Continuing Threat

While wandering the streets of Baghdad, I met shop owners who remember the horrors of the Gulf War, and still live in terror of U.S. bombs. Planes are seen flying over everyday. Bombs fall at least three or four times a year.

I am an American, but with great hospitality and extraordinary graciousness they invite me into their homes for tea. These kind and warm people are under threat of U.S. attack again.

The new UN resolution 1409 paints false ideas about improvement in Iraq.

According to UNICEF, an excess of 5,000 children under the age of five die each month in Iraq. At best, it is estimated that with time this new "easing of sanctions" could reduce this number by 1,000. This is the only optimistic prediction, when in reality 1409 just adds one more layer of opaqueness to the processes of the 661 committee.

As the Minister of Education told us, there is a culture of young people who are growing up feeling frustration and who are being shown how to deal with their anger at U.S. aggression against them.

While I was walking through the streets of Basrah, a small boy followed me for blocks repeating over and over again his plea in Arabic. When his stark, dusty face became smeared with tears my heart was broken.

The dollar I gave him did not quiet his pleas and will not change his fate if the United States attacks his homeland again.

The lifting of the economic sanction must happen now. We must not again attack the Iraqi people.

Personal Responsibility

The feeling of Wesamm's emaciated arm beneath my hand will remain with me. My gesture to comfort was in vain. "Please bring medicine. Please bring medicine."

The images of grotesque little bodies that had once been the dream of someone's son or daughter are burned into my retinas.

The pain-filled screams of infants who are likely to die soon from diarrhea and other preventable diseases ring in my ears.

People ask me, so whose fault is it anyway? The answer is complicated, but my responsibility is clear.

After meeting with Nic Robertson, CNN Senior International Correspondent in Baghdad, I began to see the complexities of communicating the truth.

At the end of a six-minute segment that Nic had just completed about the effects of depleted uranium, he stated, "The grip on the facts is as strong as the weakening grip on life."

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