John Pilger: Killing Iraq [archives]


Richard Moore

To: "mer" <•••@••.•••>
Organization: Mid-East Realities - www.MiddleEast.Org
From: "MER FLASHBACK" <•••@••.•••>
Subject: Killing Iraq
Date: Thu, 5 Aug 2004 07:54:32 -0400

   _______   ____   ______
  /  |/  /  /___/  / /_ //    M I D - E A S T   R E A L I T I E S
 / /|_/ /  /_/_   / /         Making Sense of the Middle East
/_/  /_/  /___/  /_/                  KILLING IRAQ
  News, Information, & Analysis That Governments, Interest Groups, 
        and the Corporate Media Don't Want You To Know! 
  To receive MER regularly and free - www.MiddleEast.Org/subscribe

MER FLASHBACK - Published by MER Four Long Years Ago on 4 August 2000
              To Understand the Present You Must Appreciate The Past

                       K I L L I N G    I R A Q  
MER - www.Middle East.Org - Washington - 8/04:
In the days of old Roman Legions would surround and lay siege
to their enemies. Crucifixion and gladiators were the order
of the day. In modern times the techno armies of today's 
imperial West lay siege to their enemies.  Embargoes and cruise
missiles are the order of the day.  But in the end, former 
U.S. Attorney General Ramsey Clark is right -- these are 
modern-day "war crimes" -- and former U.N. Assistant Secretary
General Denis Halliday is right -- this is disguised genocide.
Today's Empire and that of the Romans have so much in common
one wonders about the fate that still lies ahead for those who
do such terrible and shameful deeds.   A teach-in and demonstrations 
will be taking place in Washington this weekend.

                          S Q U E E Z E D    T O    D E A T H 
                                          By John Pilger*

        At least half a million children have died in Iraq since 
        UN sanctions were imposed - most enthusiastically by 
        Britain and the US. The three senior officials sent to
        Baghdad by the U.N. to administer the sanctions have
        all resigned. Meanwhile, bombing of Iraq continues 
        almost daily. From THE GUARDIAN last 4 March: 

Wherever you go in Iraq's southern city of Basra, there is
dust. It gets in your eyes and nose and throat. It swirls in
school playgrounds and consumes children kicking a plastic
ball. "It carries death," said Dr Jawad Al-Ali, a cancer
specialist and member of Britain's Royal College of
Physicians. "Our own studies indicate that more than 40 per
cent of the population in this area will get cancer: in five
years' time to begin with, then long afterwards. Most of my
own family now have cancer, and we have no history of the
disease. It has spread to the medical staff of this hospital.
We don't know the precise source of the contamination, because
we are not allowed to get the equipment to conduct a proper
scientific survey, or even to test the excess level of
radiation in our bodies. We suspect depleted uranium, which
was used by the Americans and British in the Gulf War right
across the southern battlefields."

Under economic sanctions imposed by the United Nations
Security Council almost 10 years ago, Iraq is denied equipment
and expertise to clean up its contaminated battle-fields, as
Kuwait was cleaned up. At the same time, the Sanctions
Committee in New York, dominated by the Americans and British,
has blocked or delayed a range of vital equipment,
chemotherapy drugs and even pain-killers. "For us doctors,"
said Dr Al-Ali, "it is like torture. We see children die from
the kind of cancers from which, given the right treatment,
there is a good recovery rate." Three children died while I
was there.

Six other children died not far away on January 25, last year.
An American missile hit Al Jumohria, a street in a poor
residential area. Sixty-three people were injured, a number of
them badly burned. "Collateral damage," said the Department of
Defence in Washington. Britain and the United States are still
bombing Iraq almost every day: it is the longest
Anglo-American bombing campaign since the second world war,
yet, with honourable exceptions, very little appears about it
in the British media. Conducted under the cover of "no fly
zones", which have no basis in international law, the
aircraft, according to Tony Blair, are "performing vital
humanitarian tasks". The ministry of defence in London has a
line about "taking robust action to protect pilots" from Iraqi
attacks - yet an internal UN Security Sector report says that,
in one five-month period, 41 per cent of the victims were
civilians in civilian targets: villages, fishing jetties,
farmland and vast, treeless valleys where sheep graze. A
shepherd, his father, his four children and his sheep were
killed by a British or American aircraft, which made two
passes at them. I stood in the cemetery where the children are
buried and their mother shouted, "I want to speak to the pilot
who did this."

This is a war against the children of Iraq on two fronts:
bombing, which in the last year cost the British taxpayer £60
million. And the most ruthless embargo in modern history.
According to Unicef, the United Nations Children's Fund, the
death rate of children under five is more than 4,000 a month -
that is 4,000 more than would have died before sanctions. That
is half a million children dead in eight years. If this
statistic is difficult to grasp, consider, on the day you read
this, up to 200 Iraqi children may die needlessly. "Even if
not all the suffering in Iraq can be imputed to external
factors," says Unicef, "the Iraqi people would not be
undergoing such deprivation in the absence of the prolonged
measures imposed by the Security Council and the effects of

Through the glass doors of the Unicef offices in Baghdad, you
can read the following mission statement: "Above all,
survival, hope, development, respect, dignity, equality and
justice for women and children." A black sense of irony will
be useful if you are a young Iraqi. As it is, the children
hawking in the street outside, with their pencil limbs and
eyes too big for their long thin faces, cannot read English,
and perhaps cannot read at all.

"The change in 10 years is unparalleled, in my experience,"
Anupama Rao Singh, Unicef's senior representative in Iraq,
told me. "In 1989, the literacy rate was 95%; and 93% of the
population had free access to modern health facilities.
Parents were fined for failing to send their children to
school. The phenomenon of street children or children begging
was unheard of.. Iraq had reached a stage where the basic
indicators we use to measure the overall well-being of human
beings, including children, were some of the best in the
world. Now it is among the bottom 20%. In 10 years, child
mortality has gone from one of the lowest in the world, to the

Anupama Rao Singh, originally a teacher in India, has spent
most of her working life with Unicef. Helping children is her
vocation, but now, in charge of a humanitarian programme that
can never succeed, she says, "I am grieving." She took me to a
typical primary school in Saddam City, where Baghdad's poorest
live. We approached along a flooded street: the city's
drainage and water distribution system have collapsed. The
head, Ali Hassoon, wore the melancholia that marks Iraqi
teachers and doctors and other carers: those who know they can
do little "until you, in the outside world, decide". Guiding
us around the puddles of raw sewage in the playground, he
pointed to the high water mark on a wall. "In the winter it
comes up to here. That's when we evacuate. We stay as long as
possible, but without desks, the children have to sit on
bricks. I am worried about the buildings coming down."

The school is on the edge of a vast industrial cemetery. The
pumps in the sewage treatment plants and the reservoirs of
water are silent, save for a few wheezing at a fraction of
their capacity. Many were targets in the American-led blitz in
January 1991; most have since disintegrated without spare
parts from their British, French and German builders. These
are mostly delayed by the Security Council's Sanctions
Committee; the term used is "placed on hold". Ten years ago,
92% of the population had safe water, according to Unicef.
Today, drawn untreated from the Tigris, it is lethal. Touching
two brothers on the head, the head said, "These children are
recovering from dysentery, but it will attack them again, and
again, until they are too weak." Chlorine, that universal
guardian of safe water, has been blocked by the Sanctions
Committee. In 1990, an Iraqi infant with dysentery stood a one
in 600 chance of dying. This is now one in 50.

Just before Christmas, the department of trade and industry in
London blocked a shipment of vaccines meant to protect Iraqi
children against diphtheria and yellow fever. Dr Kim Howells
told parliament why. His title of under secretary of state for
competition and consumer affairs, eminently suited his
Orwellian reply. The children's vaccines were banned, he said,
"because they are capable of being used in weapons of mass
destruction". That his finger was on the trigger of a proven
weapon of mass destruction - sanctions - seemed not to occur
to him. A courtly, eloquent Irishman, Denis Halliday resigned
as co-ordinator of humanitarian relief to Iraq in 1998, after
34 years with the UN; he was then Assistant Secretary-General
of the United Nations, one of the elite of senior officials.
He had made his career in development, "attempting to help
people, not harm them". His was the first public expression of
an unprecedented rebellion within the UN bureaucracy. "I am
resigning," he wrote, "because the policy of economic
sanctions is totally bankrupt. We are in the process of
destroying an entire society. It is as simple and terrifying
as that . . . Five thousand children are dying every month . .
. I don't want to administer a programme that results in
figures like these."

When I first met Halliday, I was struck by the care with which
he chose uncompromising words. "I had been instructed," he
said, "to implement a policy that satisfies the definition of
genocide: a deliberate policy that has effectively killed well
over a million individuals, children and adults. We all know
that the regime, Saddam Hussein, is not paying the price for
economic sanctions; on the contrary, he has been strengthened
by them. It is the little people who are losing their children
or their parents for lack of untreated water. What is clear is
that the Security Council is now out of control, for its
actions here undermine its own Charter, and the Declaration of
Human Rights and the Geneva Convention. History will slaughter
those responsible."

Inside the UN, Halliday broke a long collective silence. Then
on February 13 this year, Hans von Sponeck, who had succeeded
him as humanitarian co-ordinator in Iraq, resigned. "How
long," he asked, "should the civilian population of Iraq be
exposed to such punishment for something they have never
done?" Two days later, Jutta Burghardt, head of the World Food
Programme in Iraq, resigned, saying privately she, too, could
not tolerate what was being done to the Iraqi people. Another
resignation is expected.

When I met von Sponeck in Baghdad last October, the anger
building behind his measured, self-effacing exterior was
evident. Like Halliday before him, his job was to administer
the Oil for Food Programme, which since 1996 has allowed Iraq
to sell a fraction of its oil for money that goes straight to
the Security Council. Almost a third pays the UN's "expenses",
reparations to Kuwait and compensation claims. Iraq then
tenders on the international market for food and medical
supplies and other humanitarian supplies. Every contract must
be approved by the Sanctions Committee in New York. "What it
comes down to," he said, "is that we can spend only $180 per
person over six months. It is a pitiful picture. Whatever the
arguments about Iraq, they should not be conducted on the
backs of the civilian population."

Denis Halliday and I travelled to Iraq together. It was his
first trip back. Washington and London make much of the
influence of Iraqi propaganda when their own, unchallenged, is
by far the most potent. With this in mind, I wanted an
independent assessment from some of the 550 UN people, who are
Iraq's lifeline. Among them, Halliday and von Sponeck are
heroes. I have reported the UN at work in many countries; I
have never known such dissent and anger, directed at the
manipulation of the Security Council, and the corruption of
what some of them still refer to as the UN "ideal".

Our journey from Amman in Jordan took 16 anxious hours on the
road. This is the only authorised way in and out of Iraq: a
ribbon of wrecked cars and burnt-out oil tankers. Baghdad was
just visible beneath a white pall of pollution, largely the
consequence of the US Air Force strategy of targeting the
industrial infrastructure in January 1991. Young arms reached
up to the window of our van: a boy offering an over-ripe
banana, a girl a single stem flower. Before 1990, such a scene
was rare and frowned upon.

Baghdad is an urban version of Rachel Carson's Silent Spring.
The birds have gone as avenues of palms have died, and this
was the land of dates. The splashes of colour, on fruit
stalls, are surreal. A bunch of Dole bananas and a bag of
apples from Beirut cost a teacher's salary for a month; only
foreigners and the rich eat fruit. A currency that once was
worth two dollars to the dinar is now worthless. The rich, the
black marketeers, the regime's cronies and favourites, are not
visible, except for an occasional tinted-glass late-model
Mercedes navigating its way through the rustbuckets. Having
been ordered to keep their heads down, they keep to their
network of clubs and restaurants and well-stocked clinics,
which make nonsense of the propaganda that the sanctions are
hurting them, not ordinary Iraqis.

In the centre of Baghdad is a monument to the 1980-88
Iran-Iraq war, which Saddam Hussein started, with
encouragement from the Americans, who wanted him to destroy
their great foe, the Ayatollah Khomeini. When it was over, at
least a million lives had been lost in the cause of nothing,
fuelled by the arms industries of Britain and the rest of
Europe, the Soviet Union and the United States: the principal
members of the Security Council. The monument's two huge
forearms, modelled on Saddam's arms (and cast in Basingstoke),
hold triumphant crossed sabres. Cars are allowed to drive over
the helmets of dead Iranian soldiers embedded in the
concourse. I cannot think of a sight anywhere in the world
that better expresses the crime of sacrificial war.

We stayed at the Hotel Palestine, once claiming five stars.
The smell of petrol was constant. As disinfectant is often "on
hold", petrol, more plentiful than water, has replaced it.
There is an Iraqi Airways office, which is open every day,
with an employee sitting behind a desk, smiling and saying
good morning to passing guests. She has no clients, because
there is no Iraqi Airways - it died with sanctions. The pilots
drive taxis and sweep the forecourt and sell used clothes. In
my room, the water ran gravy brown. The one frayed towel was
borne by the maid like an heirloom. When I asked for coffee to
be brought up, the waiter hovered outside until I was
finished; cups are at a premium. His young face was streaked
with sadness. "I am always sad," he agreed matter-of-factly.
In a month, he will have earned enough to buy tablets for his
brother's epilepsy.

The same sadness is on the faces of people in the evening
auctions, where intimate possessions are sold for food and
medicines. Television sets are the most common items; a woman
with two toddlers watched their pushchairs go for pennies. A
man who had collected doves since he was 15 came with his last
bird; the cage would go next. Although we had come to pry, my
film crew and I were made welcome. Only once, was I the brunt
of the hurt that is almost tangible in a society more
westernised than any other Arab country. "Why are you killing
the children?" shouted a man from behind his bookstall. "Why
are you bombing us? What have we done to you?" Passers-by
moved quickly to calm him; one man placed an affectionate arm
on his shoulder, another, a teacher, materialised at my side.
"We do not connect the people of Britain with the actions of
the government," he said. Laith Kubba, a leading member of the
exiled Iraqi opposition, later told me in Washington, "The
Iraqi people and Saddam Hussein are not the same, which is why
those of us who have dedicated our lives to fighting him,
regard the sanctions as immoral."

In an Edwardian colonnade of Doric and Corinthian columns,
people come to sell their books, not as in a flea market, but
out of desperate need. Art books, leather bound in Baghdad in
the 30s, obstetrics and radiology texts, copies of British
Medical Journals, first and second editions of Waiting For
Godot, The Sun Also Rises and, no less, British Housing Policy
1958 were on sale for the price of a few cigarettes. A man in
a clipped grey moustache, an Iraqi Bertie Wooster, said, "I
need to go south to see my sister, who is ill.. Please be kind
and give me 25 dinars." (About a penny). He took it, nodded
and walked smartly away.

Mohamed Ghani's studio is dominated by a huge crucifix he is
sculpting for the Church of Assumption in Baghdad. As Iraq's
most famous sculptor, he is proud that the Vatican has
commissioned him, a Muslim, to sculpt the Stations of the
Cross in Rome - a romantic metaphor of his country as
Mesopotamia, the "cradle of Western civilisation". His latest
work is a 20-foot figure of a woman, her child gripping her
legs, pleading for food. "Every morning, I see her," he said,
"waiting, with others just like her, in a long line at the
hospital at the end of my road. They are what we have been
forced to become." He has produced a line of figurines that
depict their waiting; all the heads are bowed before a door
that is permanently closed. "The door is the dispensary," he
said, "but it is also the world, kept shut by those who run
the world." The next day, I saw a similar line of women and
children, and fathers and children, in the cancer ward at the
Al Mansour children's hospital. It is not unlike St Thomas's
in London. Drugs arrived, they said, but intermittently, so
that children with leukaemia, who can be saved with a full
course of three anti-biotics, pass a point beyond which they
cannot be saved, because one is missing. Children with
meningitis can also survive with the precise dosage of
antibiotics; here they die. "Four milligrams save a life,"
said Dr Mohamed Mahmud, "but so often we are allowed no more
than one milligram." This is a teaching hospital, yet children
die because there are no blood-collecting bags and no machines
that separate blood platelets: basic equipment in any British
hospital. Replacements and spare parts have been "on hold" in
New York, together with incubators, X-ray machines, and heart
and lung machines.

I sat in a clinic as doctors received parents and their
children, some of them dying. After every other examination,
Dr Lekaa Fasseh Ozeer, the oncologist, wrote in English: "No
drugs available." I asked her to jot down in my notebook a
list of the drugs the hospital had ordered, but rarely saw. In
London, I showed this to Professor Karol Sikora who, as chief
of the cancer programme of the World Health Organisation
(WHO), wrote in the British Medical Journal last year:
"Requested radiotherapy equipment, chemotherapy drugs and
analgesics are consistently blocked by United States and
British advisers [to the Sanctions Committee in New York].
There seems to be a rather ludicrous notion that such agents
could be converted into chemical or other weapons."

He told me, "Nearly all these drugs are available in every
British hospital. They're very standard. When I came back from
Iraq last year, with a group of experts I drew up a list of 17
drugs that are deemed essential for cancer treatment. We
informed the UN that there was no possibility of converting
these drugs into chemical warfare agents. We heard nothing
more. The saddest thing I saw in Iraq was children dying
because there was no chemotherapy and no pain control. It
seemed crazy they couldn't have morphine, because for
everybody with cancer pain, it is the best drug. When I was
there, they had a little bottle of aspirin pills to go round
200 patients in pain. They would receive a particular
anti-cancer drug, but then get only little bits of drugs here
and there, and so you can't have any planning. It is bizarre."

In January, last year, George Robertson, then defence
secretary, said, "Saddam Hussein has in warehouses $275
million worth of medicines and medical supplies which he
refuses to distribute." The British government knew this was
false, because UN humanitarian officials had made clear the
problem of drugs and equipment coming sporadically into Iraq -
such as machines without a crucial part, IV fluids and
syringes arriving separately - as well as the difficulties of
transport and the need for a substantial buffer stock. "The
goods that come into this country are distributed to where
they belong," said Hans von Sponeck. "Our most recent stock
analysis shows that 88.8% of all humanitarian supplies have
been distributed." The representatives of Unicef, the World
Food Programme and the Food and Agricultural Organisation
confirmed this. If Saddam Hussein believed he could draw an
advantage from obstructing humanitarian aid, he would no doubt
do so. However, according to a FAO study: "The government of
Iraq introduced a public food rationing system with effect
from within a month of the imposition of the embargo. It
provides basic foods at 1990 prices, which means they are now
virtually free. This has a life-saving nutritional benefit . .
. and has prevented catastrophe for the Iraqi people."

The rebellion in the UN reaches up to Kofi Annan, once thought
to be the most compliant of secretary-generals. Appointed
after Madeleine Albright, then the US representative at the
UN, had waged a campaign to get rid of his predecessor,
Boutros-Boutros Ghali, he pointedly renewed Hans von Sponeck's
contract in the face of a similar campaign by the Americans.
He shocked them last October when he accused the US of "using
its muscle on the Sanctions Committee to put indefinite
'holds' on more than $700 million worth of humanitarian goods
that Iraq would like to buy." When I met Kofi Annan, I asked
if sanctions had all but destroyed the credibility of the UN
as a benign body. "Please don't judge us by Iraq," he said.

On January 7, the UN's Office of Iraq Programme reported that
shipments valued at almost a billion and a half dollars were
"on hold". They covered food, health, water and sanitation,
agriculture, education. On February 7, its executive director
attacked the Security Council for holding up spares for Iraq's
crumbling oil industry. "We would appeal to all members of the
Security Council," he wrote, "to reflect on the argument that
unless key items of oil industry are made available within a
short time, the production of oil will drop . . . This is a
clear warning." In other words, the less oil Iraq is allowed
to pump, the less money will be available to buy food and
medicine. According to the Iraqis at the UN, it was US
representative on the Sanctions Committee who vetoed shipments
the Security Council had authorised.. Last year, a senior US
official told the Washington Post, "The longer we can fool
around in the [Security] Council and keep things static, the
better." There is a pettiness in sanctions that borders on
vindictiveness. In Britain, Customs and Excise stops parcels
going to relatives, containing children's clothes and toys.
Last year, the chairman of the British Library, John Ashworth,
wrote to Harry Cohen MP that, "after consultation with the
foreign office", it was decided that books could no longer be
sent to Iraqi students..

In Washington, I interviewed James Rubin, an under secretary
of state who speaks for Madeleine Albright. When asked on US
television if she thought that the death of half a million
Iraqi children was a price worth paying, Albright replied:
"This is a very hard choice, but we think the price is worth
it." When I questioned Rubin about this, he claimed Albright's
words were taken out of context. He then questioned the
"methodology" of a report by the UN's World Health
Organisation, which had estimated half a million deaths.
Advising me against being "too idealistic", he said: "In
making policy, one has to choose between two bad choices . . .
and unfortunately the effect of sanctions has been more than
we would have hoped." He referred me to the "real world" where
"real choices have to be made". In mitigation, he said, "Our
sense is that prior to sanctions, there was serious poverty
and health problems in Iraq." The opposite was true, as
Unicef's data on Iraq before 1990, makes clear.

The irony is that the US helped bring Saddam Hussein's Ba'ath
Party to power in Iraq, and that the US (and Britain) in the
1980s conspired to break their own laws in order, in the words
of a Congressional inquiry, to "secretly court Saddam Hussein
with reckless abandon", giving him almost everything he
wanted, including the means of making biological weapons.
Rubin failed to see the irony in the US supplying Saddam with
seed stock for anthrax and botulism, that he could use in
weapons, and claimed that the Maryland company responsible was
prosecuted. It was not: the company was given Commerce
Department approval.

Denial is easy, for Iraqis are a nation of unpeople in the
West, their panoramic suffering of minimal media interest; and
when they are news, care is always taken to minimise Western
culpability. I can think of no other human rights issue about
which the governments have been allowed to sustain such
deception and tell so many bare-faced lies. Western
governments have had a gift in the "butcher of Baghdad", who
can be safely blamed for everything. Unlike the be-headers of
Saudi Arabia, the torturers of Turkey and the prince of mass
murderers, Suharto, only Saddam Hussein is so loathsome that
his captive population can be punished for his crimes. British
obsequiousness to Washington's designs over Iraq has a certain
craven quality, as the Blair government pursues what Simon
Jenkins calls a "low-cost, low-risk machismo, doing something
relatively easy, but obscenely cruel". The statements of Tony
Blair and Robin Cook and assorted sidekick ministers would, in
other circumstances, be laughable. Cook: "We must nail the
absurd claim that sanctions are responsible for the suffering
of the Iraqi people", Cook: "We must uphold the sanctity of
international law and the United Nations . . ." ad nauseam.
The British boast about their "initiative" in promoting the
latest Security Council resolution, which merely offers the
prospect of more Kafkaesque semantics and prevarication in the
guise of a "solution" and changes nothing.

What are sanctions for? Eradicating Iraq's weapons of mass
destruction, says the Security Council resolution. Scott
Ritter, a chief UN weapons inspector in Iraq for five years,
told me: "By 1998, the chemical weapons infrastructure had
been completely dismantled or destroyed by UNSCOM (the UN
inspections body) or by Iraq in compliance with our mandate.
The biological weapons programme was gone, all the major
facilities eliminated. The nuclear weapons programme was
completely eliminated. The long range ballistic missile
programme was completely eliminated. If I had to quantify
Iraq's threat, I would say [it is] zero." Ritter resigned in
protest at US interference; he and his American colleagues
were expelled when American spy equipment was found by the
Iraqis. To counter the risk of Iraq reconstituting its
arsenal, he says the weapons inspectors should go back to Iraq
after the immediate lifting of all non-military sanctions; the
inspectors of the international Atomic Energy Agency are
already back. At the very least, the two issues of sanctions
and weapons inspection should be entirely separate. Madeleine
Albright has said: "We do not agree that if Iraq complies with
its obligations concerning weapons of mass destruction,
sanctions should be lifted." If this means that Saddam Hussein
is the target, then the embargo will go on indefinitely,
holding Iraqis hostage to their tyrant's compliance with his
own demise. Or is there another agenda? In January 1991, the
Americans had an opportunity to press on to Baghdad and remove
Saddam, but pointedly stopped short. A few weeks later, they
not only failed to support the Kurdish and Shi'a uprising,
which President Bush had called for, but even prevented the
rebelling troops in the south from reaching captured arms
depots and allowed Saddam Hussein's helicopters to slaughter
them while US aircraft circled overhead. At they same time,
Washington refused to support Iraqi opposition groups and
Kurdish claims for independence.

"Containing" Iraq with sanctions destroys Iraq's capacity to
threaten US control of the Middle East's oil while allowing
Saddam to maintain internal order. As long as he stays within
present limits, he is allowed to rule over a crippled nation.
"What the West would ideally like," says Said Aburish, the
author, "is another Saddam Hussein." Sanctions also justify
the huge US military presence in the Gulf, as Nato expands
east, viewing a vast new oil protectorate stretching from
Turkey to the Caucasus. Bombing and sanctions are ideal for
policing this new order: a strategy the president of the
American Physicians for Human Rights calls "Bomb Now, Die
Later". The perpetrators ought not be allowed to get away with
this in our name: for the sake of the children of Iraq, and
all the Iraqs to come.  © John Pilger

* John Pilger is a well-known British journalist with
extensive experience in the Middle East.

MID-EAST REALITIES - www.MiddleEast.Org
Email:   •••@••.•••
Phone:   202 362-5266

To receive MER articles free and easy:

If you find this material useful, you might want to check out our website
( or try out our low-traffic, moderated email 
list by sending a message to:

You are encouraged to forward any material from the lists or the website,
provided it is for non-commercial use and you include the source and
this disclaimer.

Richard Moore (rkm)
Wexford, Ireland
    "...the Patriot Act followed 9-11 as smoothly as the
      suspension of the Weimar constitution followed the
      Reichstag fire."  
      - Srdja Trifkovic

    There is not a problem with the system.
    The system is the problem.

    Faith in ourselves - not gods, ideologies, leaders, or programs.
"Zen of Global Transformation" home page:

QuayLargo discussion forum:

cj list archives:

newslog list archives:
Informative links: