From sadanand@mail.ccsu.edu Mon Mar 20 19:50:23 2000
From: Sadanand, Nanjundiah (Physics)
<sadanand@mail.ccsu.edu>
To: ’JVP@JAngel.com’
<JVP@JAngel.com>
Subject: Simon Harak writes on the Siege of Iraq
Date: Mon, 20 Mar 2000 16:22:01 -0500
Siege.
Philosopher and author Michael Walzer called it the oldest form of
total war.
History attests to the horrors of the Roman siege of
Jerusalem, the Prussian siege of Paris, the Nazi siege of
Leningrad. Sieges are designed to inflict such horrible suffering on
the civilian population that their will to resist collapses. Or, to
quote Walzer again, that the fearful spectacle of the civilian
dead
will cause the government to surrender to the
besieger’s demands.
As we begin the third Christian millennium, siege warfare is making a comeback. Big time.
In the old days, we only used to be able to lay siege a city. Now, we can inflict the horrors of besiegement to an entire country. Take the case of Iraq. Like all good sieges, the siege of Iraq has several key elements.
The 1991 Gulf War bombing of Iraq laid the foundation. More than 60
percent of the 88,500 tons of bombs (More bombs than the United States
dropped on all its enemy countries during World War II) were dropped
on the cities and villages of Iraq. U.S. planes specifically targeted
the infrastructure
of Iraq, knocking out the electrical grid
for the entire country.
Imagine what happens to a modern country when electricity is removed.
Premature babies and frail elderly people die, because incubators and
life support machines shut down. Sick people die, because medicines
spoil in ruined refrigerators. Always the weakest die first.
That’s the design of a siege—the fearful spectacle.
And then irrigation systems fail. Clean water can’t be provided,
sewage systems break down. The city—now the whole country
— is flooded with disease-ridden water. Siege.
Then add the sanctions.
It means that Iraqi oil is off the
market. Iraq got about 95 percent of its foreign exchange from the
sale of oil. So, after all that bombing, take away 95 percent of their
money. Nothing can be repaired. The economy collapses. It’s the
Great Depression
times 10, times 100. UNICEF has reported
500,000 children now dead as a direct result of the sanctions. Imagine
tens of thousands of grieving families.
Then add the oil-for-food
program. If it worked perfectly, it
would allot each Iraqi about a dollar a day to exist on. But the
besiegers can be clever even then. Enter the veto.
Every contract under the oil-for-food
deal has to be approved
by a committee. Any member of that committee can veto any contract for
any reason. The United States is a permanent member of that
committee. And we have exercised our veto more than 1,000 times in the
past three years (next is Britain with a paltry 120 vetoes). Sometimes
we exercise a straight
veto. For example, we invariably veto
spare parts to repair the water or sewage systems; invariably veto
spare parts for oil production. We sometimes veto baby milk powder
because it has phosphates, and that can be used for bombs. We veto
chlorine for water purification because it can be used for chemical
warfare. The same with many drugs.
But the really winning strategy is what the U.N. calls the problem
of complementarity.
We allow life support machines, then veto the
computers needed to run them. We allow dentists’ chairs, then
veto the compressors. We allow insulin, then veto syringes.
Then finally, the bombing. We are now engaged in the longest bombing campaign since the Vietnam War. The government admits to 30,000 sorties over Iraq in 1999 alone. Imagine how you are going to explain the constant sonic booming and air raid sirens to your child.
In fact, you don’t have to imagine. You could go to Iraq with a delegation of Voices in the Wilderness and see for yourself. Just be warned: We bring medicine and toys to Iraqi children, and this is against U.S. law. And it’s punishable by up to $1 million in fines and 12 years in a federal prison. Because you see, we are breaking the siege.
Think, siege.
Think of our total war
against Iraq. Think
of the fearful spectacle of civilian dead. Then think, please, of
those with whom history will associate us. And about what kind of a
world we are constructing for our children.