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War Crimes by US allies in
Afghanistan
MSNBC.com/NEWSWEEK
The Death Convoy of Afghanistan
Witness reports and the probing of a mass grave point to war crimes. Does
the United States have any responsibility for the atrocities of its allies? A
NEWSWEEK investigation.
By Babak Dehghanpisheh, John Barry and Roy Gutman
NEWSWEEK
Aug. 26 issue — Trudging over the moonscape of Dasht-e Leili, a
desolate expanse of low rolling hills in northern Afghanistan, Bill Haglund
spotted clues half-buried in the gray-beige sand. Strings of prayer beads. A
woolen skullcap. A few shoes. Those remnants, along with track marks and blade
scrapes left by a bulldozer, suggested that Haglund had found what he was
looking for. Then he came across a human tibia, three sets of pelvic bones and
some ribs.
MASS GRAVES are not always easy to spot, though trained investigators know
the signs. "You look for disturbance of the earth, differences in the
vegetation, areas that have been machined over," says Haglund, a forensic
anthropologist and pioneer in the field of "human-rights
archeology." At Dasht-e Leili, a 15-minute drive from the Northern
Alliance prison at Sheber-ghan, scavenging animals had brought the evidence to
the surface. Some of the gnawed bones were old and bleached, but some were from
bodies so recently buried the bones still carried tissue. The area of bulldozer
activity—roughly an acre—suggested burials on a large scale. A
stray surgical glove also caught Haglund's eye. Such gloves are often
used by people handling corpses, and could be evidence, Haglund thought, of
"a modicum of planning."
Haglund was in Dasht-e Leili on more than a hunch. In January, two
investigators from the Boston-based Physicians for Human Rights had argued
their way into the nearby Sheberghan prison. What they saw shocked them. More
than 3,000 Taliban prisoners—who had surrendered to the victorious
Northern Alliance forces at the fall of Konduz in late November—were
crammed, sick and starving, into a facility with room for only 800. The
Northern Alliance commander of the prison acknowledged the charnel-house
conditions, but pleaded that he had no money. He begged the PHR to send food
and supplies, and to ask the United Nations to dig a well so the prisoners
could drink unpolluted water.
STORIES OF MASS GRAVES
But stories of a deeper horror came from the prisoners themselves. However
awful their conditions, they were the lucky ones. They were alive. Many
hundreds of their comrades, they said, had been killed on the journey to
Sheberghan from Konduz by being stuffed into sealed cargo containers and left
to asphyxiate. Local aid workers and Afghan officials quietly confirmed that
they had heard the same stories. They confirmed, too, persistent reports about
the disposal of many of the dead in mass graves at Dasht-e Leili.
That's when Haglund, a veteran of similar investigations in Rwanda,
Sri Lanka, the Balkans and other scenes of atrocity, was called in. Standing at
what he reckoned from the ‘dozer tracks was an edge of the grave site, he
pushed a long, hollow probe deep into the compacted sand. Then he sniffed. The
acrid smell reeking up the shaft was unmistakable. Haglund and local laborers
later dug down; at five feet, they came upon a layer of decomposing corpses,
lying pressed together in a row. They dug a trial trench about six yards long,
and in that —short length found 15 corpses. "They were relatively
fresh bodies: the flesh was still on the bones," Haglund recalls.
"They were scantily clad, which was consistent with reports that [before
they died] they had been in a very hot place." Some had their hands tied.
Haglund brought up three of the corpses, and a colleague conducted autopsies in
a tent. The victims were all young men, and their bodies showed "no overt
trauma"—no gunshot wounds, no blows from blunt instruments. This,
too, Haglund says, is "consistent" with the survivors#8217; stories
of death by asphyxiation.
How many are buried at Dasht-e Leili? Haglund won't speculate.
"The only thing we know is that it's a very large site," says
a U.N. official privy to the investigation, and there was "a high density
of bodies in the trial trench." Other sources who have investigated the
killings aren't surprised. "I can say with confidence that more
than a thousand people died in the containers," says Aziz ur Rahman
Razekh, director of the Afghan Organization of Human Rights. NEWSWEEK's
extensive inquiries of prisoners, truckdrivers, Afghan militiamen and local
villagers—including interviews with survivors who licked and chewed each
other's skin to stay alive—suggest also that many hundreds of
people died.
The dead of Dasht-e Leili—and the horrific manner of their
killing—are one of the dirty little secrets of the Afghan war. The
episode is more than just another atrocity in a land that has seen many. The
killings illustrate the problems America will face if it opts to fight wars by
proxy, as the United States did in Afghanistan, using small numbers of U.S.
Special Forces calling in air power to support local fighters on the ground. It
also raises questions about the responsibility Americans have for the conduct
of allies who may have no —interest in applying protections of the Geneva
Conventions. The benefit in fighting a proxy-style war in Afghanistan was
victory on the cheap—cheap, at any rate, in American blood. The cost,
NEWSWEEK's investigation has established, is that American forces were
working intimately with "allies" who committed what could well
qualify as war crimes.
(edited)
Questions can be raised, as well, about international agencies. How
seriously has the United Nations pursued investigations of what happened at
Sheberghan? The reports of atrocity come at a time when the international
community is desperately trying to bring stability to Afghanistan. Well-meaning
officials may be wondering if a full-scale investigation might set off a new
round of Afghan slaughter. Would it be worth it? A confidential U.N.
memorandum, parts of which were made available to NEWSWEEK, says that the
findings of investigations into the Dasht-e Leili graves "are sufficient
to justify a fully-fledged criminal investigation." It says that based on
"information collected," the site "contains bodies of Taliban
POW's who died of suffocation during transfer from Konduz to
Sheberghan." A witness quoted in the report puts the death toll at 960.
Yet the re—port also raises urgent questions. "Considering the
political sensitivity of this case and related protection concerns, it is
strongly recommended that all activities relevant to this case be brought to a
halt until a decision is made concerning the final goal of the exercise:
criminal trial, truth commission, other, etc."
(edited)
U.S. INVOLVEMENT
The close involvement of American soldiers with General Dostum can only make
an investigation all the more sensitive. "The issue nobody wants to
discuss is the involvement of U.S. forces," says Jennifer Leaning,
professor at the Harvard School of Public Health and one of the pair of
Physicians for Human Rights investigators who pushed their way into Sheberghan.
"U.S. forces were in the area at the time. What did the U.S. know, and
when and —where—and what did they do about it?"
(edited)
PACKED ‘LIKE CATTLE'
For some, the agony in the containers was intensified because they were tied
up. This appears to have been a fate reserved for Pakistani—and perhaps
other non-Afghan—prisoners. Mahmood, 20, says he surrendered at Konduz
along with 1,500 other Pakistanis. All were bound hand and foot either with
their own turbans or with strips ripped from their clothing, he says. Then they
were packed in container trucks "like cattle," he says. He reckons
that about 100 people died in his container.
The drivers remain tormented by what they took part in. "Why
weren't there any United Nations people there to see the dead
bodies?" asks one. "Why wasn't anything being done?"
Another driver shook uncontrollably as he spoke with NEWSWEEK.
The convoys of the dead and dying, along with many truckloads of living
prisoners, seem to have arrived at Sheberghan for perhaps 10 days. Prying eyes
were kept away. The Red Cross, learning of the arrivals of prisoners from
Konduz, applied on—Nov. 29 to get into Sheberghan. Dostum's
commander at the prison promised that access would be granted within 24 hours.
In fact, it was not until Dec. 10 that the Red Cross got into the prison. By
then, most of the bodies had probably been buried. (Dostum's spokesman
denies that access was blocked by prison officials.)
(edited)
But is that entirely true? The American unit most directly involved was the
595 A-team, part of the Fifth Special Forces Group based at Fort Campbell, Ky.
The leader of the dozen-man 595 was Capt. Mark D. Nutsch. Throughout the
Afghanistan operation, the Pentagon insisted that reporters identify Special
Forces personnel by their first names only, claiming this was necessary to
protect their families back home from possible terrorist reprisals. But the
Army waived that concern in April, when—at the instigation of his Army
superiors—the Kansas state Legislature passed a resolution of both houses
honoring Captain Nutsch, a 33-year-old native of Kansas. Nutsch's wife,
Amy, and their baby daughter, Kaija, born while Nutsch was in Afghanistan, were
present at the very public ceremony. Contacted recently by NEWSWEEK about the
container deaths, Nutsch said he did not want to discuss them.
(edited)
It may not be easy for Americans to summon much sympathy for Taliban or
Qaeda prisoners. But the rules of war cannot be applied selectively. There is
no real moral justification for the pain and destruction of combat if it is not
to defend the rule of law. The line is tough to hold even in a conventional
conflict. In a proxy war, it's much more difficult. The dead at Dasht-e
Leili are proof of that.
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