The Silent War:
Iraq’s Women and Children are Casualties Amid Economic Sanctions
by Leah C. Wells*, October 17, 2002
Originally Published by the Ventura
County Reporter
Mohamed, a recently married Iraqi friend who works
in the hotel where we stay in Baghdad, is expecting a child soon.
Shortly before we left nearly three weeks ago, he approached some
members of our seven-member peace delegation with troubling information
about his wife’s pregnancy. She will need a Cesarean section—unfortunately,
on his salary, Mohamed cannot afford the operation.
Our team feels helpless listening to Mohamed’s
story amid the millions of others like it in Iraq. Even so, it
isn’t wise for us to get a reputation as problem-solvers.
We do what we can, but working against the United Nations-imposed
economic sanctions on Iraq can often be overwhelming.
This Iraqi clasroom may soon gain over one-third
new capacity. More than 35 percent of girls drop out of primary
school due to the need to help support their families.
As a woman visiting Iraq, I often have entrance
into particular social situations unfamiliar to men, like holding
hands or sitting next to mothers at the hospitals that tend their
sick children. I grow particularly empathetic as I imagine myself
in their shoes. I know the rage I feel here in the United States
toward misguided economic policies meant to target Saddam Hussein
but that directly affect the most vulnerable people in society:
the women and children.
In Iraq, life for women (especially mothers) was
much better prior to the United Nations sanctions, imposed in
August of 1990. From 1975 to 1985, the Iraqi government invested
large amounts of money in social programs, such as education and
health care. A program to eradicate illiteracy among Iraqi women
was exceedingly successful, and women have traditionally enjoyed
freedoms not found in other contemporary Arab and Muslim countries.
In an Oct. 1 New York Times article, Nicholas Kristof
reported on the liberal attitudes toward women in Iraq. He wrote
that women routinely serve in non-combat positions in the military.
They pray, dine and swim together with men. Girls compete in sports
as often as boys do.
Compare these tremendous opportunities with those
in neighboring countries such as Saudi Arabia, where repressive
attitudes cloister women from public life into sometimes dangerous
situations. In March, a group of Saudi girls was incinerated,
having been denied exit from a burning building because they were
not covered by a hijab, or head scarf.
Although more openminded in its attitudes, Iraq
has become decidedly more dangerous for women and children since
the Gulf War due to the breakdown in medical care and especially
in preventive medicine. Mohamed’s wife knows this predicament
all too well.
In Basra, where much of the Gulf War fighting transpired,
25 of the 26 obstetrics and gynecology students are women. During
my first visit to Iraq in August 2001, however, I spoke with a
physician at the Basra Pediatric Hospital who said that 90 percent
of the women in Southern Iraq suffered from severe anemia, a health
indicator with serious implications for women and children.
Severely anemic nursing mothers cannot provide
their babies adequate nutrition. Thus, even breastfeeding has
become problematic during the past 12 years of economic sanctions.
A UNICEF document from April of this year states
that many Iraqi mothers have stopped breastfeeding and that only
17 percent breastfeed during their baby’s first four months.
Under the Oil for Food Programme of 1995, a food basket handout
for Iraqi families contains powdered formula that mothers increasingly
use.
This is problematic for many reasons, among them
that the formula requires water for preparation. Nearly 62 percent
of women said they report giving their babies water in the first
month of life, and nearly 32 percent of the children drink unboiled
water—but the water in Iraq is severely contaminated. Many
of the water purification, sewage treatment and electrical facilities
were bombed during the Gulf War and remain largely unrepaired
and are functioning at minimal capacity for a growing nation of
24 million.
Last fall, Thomas Nagy, a Washington, D.C. professor,
released a study called The Secret Behind the Sanctions: How the
U.S. Intentionally Destroyed Iraq’s Water Supply. In this
paper, he details information in government documents from 1991
about how the Gulf War strategy included destroying Iraq’s
civilian infrastructure, which violates Geneva Convention articles.
“It notes,” Nagy reported, “that
Iraq’s rivers ‘contain biological materials [and]
pollutants and are laden with bacteria. Unless the water is purified
with chlorine, epidemics of such diseases as cholera, hepatitis
and typhoid could occur.’ Iraq will suffer increasing shortages
of purified water because of the lack of required chemicals and
desalination membranes. Incidences of disease, including possible
epidemics, will become probable unless the population were careful
to boil water.”
Currently, the killer of children in Iraq is gastroenteritis,
caused by drinking contaminated water. One in eight children do
not see their first birthdays. Imagine the helplessness of being
a mother in Iraq, knowing what life was like before the Gulf War
and before economic sanctions, wanting nothing more than to be
a good mother and provide a healthy, nutritious, safe life for
her children.
In a meeting with the chief medical officer at
the Basra Pediatric Hospital, I inquired about the status of preventive
health care for women in Iraq. His response was that there is
none. This is quite remarkable for Iraq, which until 1990 had
eradicated all childhood illnesses and had the most comprehensive
health care system in the Middle East.
While abysmally lacking resources and training
programs, the medical field is nowhere as bleak as the education
climate in Iraq, especially for young girls. More than 35 percent
of girls drop out before the end of primary school due to the
high price of school supplies and the need to help supplement
the family’s income by going to work, likely begging.
It seems we are condemning the women and children
of Iraq to a fate similar to that of the 25 percent of American
children who live in poverty, the 45 million people without health
insurance and the 30,000 homeless in New York City alone.
“Conflict is the last thing people in Iraq
need,” UNICEF in Iraq reports. And when our group inquired
about the potential effects of President Bush’s growing
military campaign, an official at the World Food Programme office
in Baghdad sighed: “The poorest people in Iraq will suffer
the most.”
*Leah C. Wells, a Santa
Paula teacher, serves as peace education coordinator for the Nuclear
Age Peace Foundation in Santa Barbara. She recently paid a second
visit to Iraq and opposes the economic sanctions and no-fly-zone
incursions on that country.
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