TIME: When Bad Information
Kills People
Monday, March 11, 2002
By TIM McGIRK with reporting by MARK THOMPSON /
WASHINGTON and MICHAEL WARE / KANDAHAR
This is what bad intelligence produces: a girl's dress,
its embroidery stained dark red with blood, lying amid
the rubble of a bombed-out building. Men wandering
through the debris, gesturing to show where people were
dancing when the bombs began to fall. And a U.S.
special-forces soldier, who is said to have surveyed
the scene and asked, "Why did we do this?"
It was a wedding party on a late December night. But
from the air, it looked to the pilots like what their
intelligence source had claimed: a gathering of
al-Qaeda terrorists. Dozens of cars had converged on
Qila-Niazi, a hamlet of 12 mud-walled homes in the
shadow of a snowy ridge 80 miles southeast of Kabul.
The women were gossiping and painting their hands red
with henna. The men were in another room playing cards
and dancing. Music drowned out the sounds of the U.S.
warplanes overhead.
At 10:30 p.m., the first bombs struck the party; the
assault lasted six hours. The next day, a team of
special forces arrived in Qila-Niazi to inspect what
was thought to have been a triumphant blow against
Osama bin Laden's network. Instead it found the remains
of the party. Out of 112 people, two women had
survived. "When the U.S. soldiers saw the destruction,
they were very sad," says Assaullah Falah, a tribal
elder, as he leads a reporter through the wreckage.
Why did we do this? The question has echoed over the
past two months as TIME and other publications have
reported grim stories from Afghanistan that are at odds
with Pentagon accounts of victorious strikes against
the enemy. On Dec. 20, U.S. planes rocketed a convoy of
tribal elders going to Kabul for the swearing-in
ceremony of Afghan leader Hamid Karza and then chased
the fleeing tribesmen into a village, killing 60, say
locals. On Feb. 4, a Predator drone fired a Hellfire
missile at a man who U.S. Central Command thought might
be bin Laden. Villagers say the dead man was a scrap
collector; the Pentagon says he was al-Qaeda. And on
Jan. 24, special forces raided a compound in Uruzgan
province, killing 16. Locals say the victims were not
Taliban or al-Qaeda but supporters of Karzai.
Pentagon officials have conceded error only in the Jan.
24 case, grumbling that after 18,000 bombs and missiles
have been dropped on Afghanistan--with a declared
success rate of about 85%--no one should be surprised
when innocents are hurt or killed. Army general Tommy
Franks, who is running the war in Afghanistan, told
TIME that civilian casualties "are probably on the low
end of any we have ever seen in combat. We obviously
could just bomb the heck out of the thing. But that's
not the American way."
Precision munitions are worse than worthless if their
targets are selected by dishonest men. Western
diplomats and Afghan intelligence sources in Kabul say
that until recently the special forces in eastern and
southern Afghanistan have relied on untrustworthy
informants who tricked the U.S. into sending in lethal
air strikes on their tribal enemies. Both the
Kabul-bound convoy and the Qila-Niazi wedding party,
for example, were targeted by Pacha Khan, a former
provincial governor, derided by one official as a
"Pentagon-created warlord," who was using American
munitions to take care of his own business, according
to Afghan government sources and tribal elders in
Gardez. Says tribal chieftain Saifullah Khan: "Pacha
Khan would phone up the Americans, point out a village
and say they are all al-Qaeda." Pacha Khan denies the
charges. After the attack on the wedding party,
Saifullah visited the local base of the special forces.
"We told the soldiers that these are good people--don't
bomb them." As proof of loyalty, Saifullah pledged
hundreds of his men to help the special forces hunt
down al-Qaeda and Taliban bands spotted in a mountain
region known as Armat Zadran, near the Pakistan border.
The message got across: Gardez townsfolk rebelled
against Pacha Khan last month, ousting him as governor.
American warplanes circled but did not intervene.
As the rate of U.S. bombing has declined, errors have
dropped. With the remnants of al-Qaeda and Taliban on
the run in eastern Afghanistan, the special forces have
had a crash course in the complexities of local tribal
feuds. U.S. soldiers are far more circumspect about
calling in air strikes. "When we get information about
Taliban or al-Qaeda, we check it three, maybe four
times before we act," says Gardez governor Taj Mohammed
Wardak. Americans are also training local militias to
hunt al-Qaeda. In Gardez alone, the special forces have
recruited more than 200 men, giving them better guns,
warm clothes, food and $200 a month. (In all, Western
diplomats in Kabul tell TIME, the Americans have more
than 15,000 Afghan fighters on the payroll, mainly in
the Jalalabad and Kandahar regions.)
U.S. special forces in Afghanistan are frustrated by
the perception that they are killing civilians
heedlessly; they insist many strikes have been called
off because of concern over such deaths. And they
refuse to talk to the press. Last week a TIME reporter
spotted two of them at the gates of a Gardez hospital;
others were out back, tinkering with a rusty generator.
But the two soldiers bolted. By the weekend, U.S.
forces were fighting al-Qaeda suspects near Gardez in
the fiercest battle in months. One American was
reported dead. Civilian casualties were unknown.
--By Tim
McGirk. With reporting by Mark Thompson/Washington and
Michael Ware/Kandahar