Victims of circumstance
The U.S. faces some tough choices as the civilian toll grows in Iraq
Unfortunately, a soldier in an attack helicopter or airman in an AC-130 has a hard time telling civilian from combatant. And unless an airstrike goes absolutely perfectly, buildings near the target are often damaged. "No one is happy about it," says Doug Johnson, a research professor at the U.S. Army War College. "When you are dealing with an insurgency, it is counterproductive to kill the people who aren't the bad guys; everyone understands that."
Military leaders have suggested that they are preparing to retake Samarra, Fallujah, and other insurgent-controlled Sunni towns. Some military experts fear that could be a mistake, and Marine Lt. Gen. James Conway, who led the first assault in April, told reporters that he opposed that plan. "When we were told to attack Fallujah, I think we certainly increased the level of animosity that existed," Conway said. O'Hanlon says a second assault on Fallujah could further stoke the perception among Iraqis that the Americans do not care about noncombatants.
Since the beginning of the war, the military has dealt with the issue of civilian casualties in a piecemeal way. Military lawyers have handed out $2,500 payments to families. Advocates for victims say the awards are inconsistent and can't be called "compensation" or "reparation" because the military doesn't want to set a precedent. The reparations, in the end, also achieve questionable results. While the money helps, Iraqis want a sense of military accountability. "Now," says Marla Ruzicka, founder of the Campaign for Innocent Victims in Conflict, "Iraqis think the U.S. military works with impunity."
There are signs that the military realizes that it must address the issue of civilian casualties more openly. Last Thursday, after hitting another suspected terrorist hideout in an attack they claimed killed as many as 60 people, officers emphasized that the compound was in a remote area surrounded by fields. U.S. forces broke it off when the insurgents fled into a nearby town, the military said, "in order to protect the civilian populace and minimize collateral damage."
For now, though, the body count keeps rising. Not far from the deputy health minister's office is the place the Iraqis call the "operations room." Here, under fluorescent lights, Alla Jabber Moussa sits chain-smoking, watching the news, and answering the phone. On the wall hangs a dry-erase board where he tallies the record of the dead. Moussa is weary and disillusioned. "Those people are innocent," he says. "America must be more precise in its attacks."
With Bay Fang and Beth Potter
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