Collateral Damage Made Real

By Deborah James, AlterNet. Posted December 13, 2001.

I was wholly unprepared for the level of poverty and desperation I witnessed among refugees on a recent trip to Afghanistan. If you have never imagined the refugee camps, visualize a seemingly endless stretch of scrap-and-stick tents, filled with raucous children, lacking food, water, basic hygiene or infrastructure. Border it with stunning stark mountains, surround it with cold air and support it with dirt and dust. Then you will have an idea of the conditions under which Afghan refugees fleeing American bombs are attempting to survive.

Zeriba Taj, age 3

After the tragedies of Sept. 11, when it became clear that the U.S. would retaliate against Osama bin Laden's terrorist attacks though a campaign against Afghanistan, I began to worry. I had heard about "collateral damage" and "smart bombs" during the Gulf War. My gut tightened when I heard these rhetorical strategies deployed now. My father, a career U.S. Army officer, was deployed to the Gulf with those very phrases in 1990. This time it was my turn to travel to the region, to see for myself the effects of U.S. military action.

In late November I traveled to Jalalabad, Kabul, Peshawar and Islamabad on a four-woman delegation organized by Global Exchange, the human rights organization where I have worked for the last eight years. I also represented the Women's International League for Peace and Freedom, the oldest women's peace organization in the U.S. and, as a result, I focused particularly on the issue of women in a post-Taliban government and the condition of children in the refugee camps. But my main personal aim was just to witness, and what I witnessed was extremely troubling.

There was Ramsir, A 24-year-old Tajik mother whose 5-year-old child is psychologically damaged from the recent bombing. Rasmir's daughter was at a park in Kabul when American bombs, aimed at the airport, missed their mark and killed three of her playmates. The women in the park screamed, "Where's my child?!" Rasmir told me, as they searched for remains among the shrapnel. After this, Rasmir and her children, who remained in Kabul through both the mujahedeen and the Taliban regimes, fled the country. Before the slaughter in the park, Rasmir's neighbor's house had been hit by U.S. bombs. All nine members of the family were killed. Rasmir told me the shock her daughter experienced in the park was too much.

I met Rasmir at the Afghanistan Women's Council, a food distribution, health and educational services project for refugee women and children in Peshawar, Pakistan. Directed by Fatana Gailani, the center has recently been inundated by refugees fleeing not only the Taliban but the American bombing. I asked Gailani if she supported the U.S. bombing campaign, as I expected an educated woman from Kabul would. "Like most people, I was happy at first, as I am eager to return to a liberated Afghanistan," she said. "But then I started seeing the flow of refugees, almost every one with a story of civilian casualties. And now I say that the bombing must stop. We innocent Afghans are paying the price."

Gouhar Taj, age 32

Another vivid memory is of Haziza, a 12-year-old girl living in a refugee relief center in Peshawar. I sat with Haziza while an elderly woman told us she had lost her three sons -- one to the Russians, one to the mujahedeen and one to the Taliban. As Haziza started sniffling, another visitor to the center asked the girl crudely, "Why are you crying?" to which she responded with deeper sobs. As I reached to embrace Haziza, I could feel her body brace against the deepest pain. "We lived in Kabul near one of the Taliban military bases, where my father had a small grocery store," she said. "One day I was out with my father, when we saw planes roaring overhead and heard scary, loud sounds like thunder. When we returned home, my mother and younger brother were lying dead in a pile of rubble that was once our house. My father went into shock and lost his mind. Now I'm the one in charge of our household. I take care of my five brothers and sisters. We have no money and it's hard for me to find them enough food to eat."

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