Aiden Delgado, an Army Reservist in
the 320th Military Police Company, served in Iraq from April 1st ,
2003
through
April 1st, 2004. After
spending six months in Nasiriyah in Southern Iraq, he spent six months helping
to run the now-infamous Abu Ghraib prison outside of Baghdad.
The handsome 23-year-old
mechanic was a witness to widespread, almost daily, U.S.
war crimes in Iraq. His story contains new revelations about ongoing
brutality at Abu Ghraib, information yet to be reported in national media.
I first met Delgado in a classroom at Acalanes High School in Lafayette,
California, where he presented a slide show on the atrocities that
he himself observed in Southern and Northern Iraq. Delgado acknowledged
that
the U.S. military did some good things in Iraq. “We deposed Saddam,
built some schools and hospitals,” he said. But he focused his testimony
on the breakdown of moral order within the U.S. military, a pattern of violence
and terror that exceeds the bounds of what is legally and morally permissible
in time of war.
Delgado says he observed mutilation of the dead, trophy photos of dead Iraqis,
mass roundups of innocent noncombatants, positioning of prisoners in the line
of fire – all violations of the Geneva conventions. His own buddies – decent,
Christian men, as he describes them – shot
unarmed prisoners.
In one government class for seniors, Delgado presented graphic images, his
own photos of a soldier playing with a skull, the charred remains of children,
kids riddled with bullets, a soldier from his unit scooping out the brains
of a prisoner. Some students were squeamish, like myself, and turned their
heads. Others rubbed tears from their eyes. But at the end of the question
period, many expressed appreciation for opening a subject that is almost taboo. “If
you are old enough to go to war,” Delgado said, “you are old enough to know what really goes on.”
It is a rare moment when American students, who play video war games more
than baseball, are exposed to the realities of occupation. Delgado does not
name names. Nor does he want to denigrate soldiers or undermine morale. He
seeks to be a conscience for the military, and he wants Americans to take ownership of the war in all its tragic totality.
Aiden Delgado did not grow up in the United States. His father was a U.S.
diplomat. Aiden lived in Thailand and Senegal, West Africa. He spent seven
years in Cairo, Egypt, where he became fluent in Arabic and developed a deep appreciation of Arab culture.
On September 11th, 2001, completely unaware of the day’s fateful events,
Delgado enlisted in the Army, expecting to serve two days a month in the Reserves.
When he turned on the television, he realized instantly that his whole world had changed.
After he joined the Army, Delgado began to read the Sutras. He became a Buddhist,
a vegetarian, and eventually became a Conscientious Objector. Delgado was
honorably discharged when he returned home. Delgado earned four service medals
which, he says, are standard awards. He faced criticism from the Army when
he began to speak out about military
conduct in Iraq. Don Schwartz, spokesman for the Army in Washington, D.C.,
said that Delgado should have reported any wrongdoing to Army personnel. “He
should have reported first to his boss, his commander. That is the standard
way the chain of command works.”
When I interviewed Delgado recently, he expressed his deep love of his country,
but he also insisted that racism – a major impetus to violence
in American history – is driving the occupation, infecting the entire military operation in Iraq.
Delgado’s testimony tends to confirm the message of Chris Hedges, the New
York Times war correspondent who wrote prior to the invasion of Iraq: “War
forms its own culture. It distorts memory, corrupts language, and infects
everything around it.... War exposes the capacity for evil that lurks not
far below the surface within all of us. Even as war gives meaning to sterile lives, it also promotes killers and racists.”
Here is Aiden Delgado story.
Q: When did you begin to turn against the military and the war?
DELGADO: From the very earliest time I was in Iraq, I began to see ugly strains of racism among our troops—anti-Arab, anti-Muslim sentiments.
Q: What are some examples?
DELGADO: There was a Master Sergeant. A Master Sergeant is one of the highest
enlisted ranks. He whipped this group of Iraqi children with a steel Humvee
antenna. He just lashed them with it because they were crowding around, bothering
him, and he was tired of talking. Another time, a Marine, a Lance Corporal – a
big guy about six-foot-two – planted
a boot on a kid’s chest, when a kid came up to him and asked him for
a soda. The First Sergeant said, “That won’t be necessary Lance
Corporal.” And that was the end of that. It was a matter of routine
for guys in my unit to drive by in a Humvee and shatter bottles over Iraqis
heads as
they went by. And these were guys I considered friends. And I told them:“ What
the hell are you doing? What does that accomplish?” One said
back:“ I hate being here. I hate looking at them. I hate being surrounded
by all these Hajjis.”
Q: They refer to Iraqis as “Hajjis”?
DELGADO: “Hajji” is the new slur, the new ethnic slur for Arabs
and Muslims. It is used extensively in the military. The Arabic word refers to
one who has gone on a pilgrimage to Mecca. But it is used in the military
with the same kind of connotation as “gook,” “Charlie,” or
the n-word. Official Army documents now use it in reference to Iraqis or Arabs. It’s real common. There was really a thick aura of racism.
Q: Were there any significant incidents besides racial slurs and casual violence against civilians?
DELGADO: The last mission I ran in the South before we were redeployed North
was strange. I was told to drive way out into the desert, off the road. When
we got there, we found Kuwaitis excavating a mass grave site (from the Saddam
era). Kuwaiti engineers wanted to identify and repatriate the remains. It
was a solemn affair. I was with the First
Sergeant. He said: “Give me that skull. I want to hold the skull in my
hands.” He
picked up the skull, tossing it to himself. Then he turned to me and said: “Take
my picture.” It was taken while he was standing by a mass grave. This
was a very surreal, dark time for me in Iraq. It was tough for me to see brutality
coming out of my own unit. I had lived in the Middle East. I had Egyptian
friends. I spent nearly a decade in Cairo. I spoke Arabic, and I was versed
in Arab culture and Islamic dress. Most of the guys in my unit were in complete
culture shock
most of the time. They saw the Iraqis as enemies. They lived in a state of
fear. I found the Iraqis enormously friendly as a whole. One time I was walking
through Nasiriyah with an armful of money, nadirs that were exchanged for
dollars. I was able to walk 300 meters to my convoy – a U.S. soldier
walking alone with money. And I thought: I am safer here in Iraq than in the
states. I never felt threatened from people in the South.
Q: What happened when you moved North, before you reached Abu Ghraib?
DELGADO: We were a company of 141 Military Police. We gave combat support,
followed behind units to take and hold prisoners. I was a mechanic. I fixed
Humvees. We followed behind the Third Infantry division. It was heavily mechanized
with lots of tanks and scout vehicles. We could trace their path by all the
burned-out vehicles and devastation they left behind. The Third pretty much
annihilated the Iraqi forces. Iraqis did not have much of an organized military.
They had civilian vehicles, and they resisted pretty valiantly, given how much
we outclassed them. The Third Infantry slaughtered them wholesale. We took
so many prisoners, we couldn’t carry them all. Large numbers
of civilians were caught in the crossfire.
Q: How were the civilians killed?
DELGADO: It was common practice to set up blockades. The Third Infantry would
block off a road. In advance of the assault, civilians would flee the city
in a panic. As they approached us, someone would yell: “Stop, stop!” In
English. Of course they couldn’t understand. Their cars
were blown up with cannons, or crushed with tanks. Killing noncombatants at
checkpoints happened routinely, not only with the Third Infantry, but the
First Marines. And it is still going on today. If you check last week’s
MSNBC, they dug out a father and mother and her six children. We were constantly
getting reports of vehicles that were destroyed (with people in them) at checkpoints.
Q: Your unit, the 320th Military Police, was stationed at Abu Ghraib for six
months. Who were the prisoners at Abu Ghraib? Where did they come from? Do you have any new information not yet reported in the media?
DELGADO: There were 4,000 to 6,000 prisoners at Abu Ghraib. I got to work
with a lot of officers, so I got to see the paperwork. I found out that a
lot of prisoners were imprisoned for no crime at all. They were not insurgents.
Some were inside for petty theft or drunkenness. But the majority – over
sixty percent – were not imprisoned for crimes
committed against the coalition.
Q: How did so many noncombatants get imprisoned?
DELGADO: Every time our base
came under attack, we sent out teams to sweep up all men between the ages
of 17 and 50. There were random sweeps. The paperwork
to get them out of prison took six months or a year. It was hellish inside.
A lot of completely innocent civilians were in prison camp for no offense.
It sounds completely outrageous. But look at the 2005 Department of Defense
Report, where it talks about prisoners.
Q: When you arrived at Abu Ghraib, what did you see, beyond what we all learned from the scandal in the news? And how were you affected?
DELGADO: I was becoming disillusioned. I expected brutality from the enemy.
That was a given. But to see brutality from our own side, that was really
tough for me. It was hard to see the army fall so much in my esteem. The prisoners
were housed outside in tents, 60 to 80 prisoners per tent. It rained a lot.
The detainees lived in the mud. It was freezing cold outside, and the prisoners
had no cold-weather clothing. Our soldiers lived inside in cells, with four
walls that protected us from the bombardment. The Military Police used the
cold weather to control the prisoners. If there was an infraction, detainees
would be removed from their tents. Next, their blankets were confiscated.
Then even their clothing was taken away. Almost naked, in underwear, the POWs
would huddle together on a platform outside to keep warm. There was overcrowding,
and almost everyone got TB. Eighteen members of our unit who worked closely
with the prisoners got TB too. The food was rotten and prisoners got dysentery.
The unsanitary conditions, the debris and muck everywhere, the overcrowding
in cold weather, led to disease, an epidemic, pandemic conditions. The attitude
of the guards was brutal. To
them Iraqis were the scum of the earth. Detainees were beaten within inches
of their life.
Q: Were any detainees killed?
DELGADO: More than 50 prisoners were killed.
Q: What happened?
DELGADO: The enemy around Baghdad randomly shelled our base. Under the Geneva
Conventions, an occupying power cannot place protected persons in areas exposed
to the hazards of war. More than 50 detainees were killed because they were
housed outside in tents, directly in the line of fire, with no protection,
nowhere to run. They were hemmed in by barbed wire. They were trapped, and
they had to sit and wait and hope they would survive. I know what it was like
because a single mortar round would flatten a whole line of tires on the Humvees,
a whole line of windshields. That’s how I thought about the damage because
I was the mechanic who had to replace the windshields. So the mortar bombardments
killed
and wounded many prisoners.
Q: So your commanders knowingly kept your prisoners
in the line of fire? How many U.S. soldiers were killed during the shellings?
DELGADO: There were two U.S. soldiers killed during my stay.
Q: Were there any other incidents?
DELGADO: The worst incident that I was privy to was in late November. The
prisoners were protesting nightly because of their living conditions. They
protested the cold, the lack of clothing, the rotting food that was causing
dysentery. And they wanted cigarettes. They tore up pieces of clothing, made
banners and signs. One demonstration became intense and got unruly. The prisoners
picked up stones, pieces of wood, and threw them at the guards. One of my
buddies got hit in the face. He got a bloody nose. But he wasn’t hurt.
The guards asked permission to use lethal force. They got it. They opened fire
on the prisoners with the
machine guns. They shot twelve and killed three. I know because I talked to
the guy who did the killing. He showed me these grisly photographs, and he
bragged about the results. “Oh,” he said, “I
shot this guy in the face. See, his head is split open.” He talked like
the Terminator. ‘I shot this guy in the groin, he took three days to
bleed to death.” I was shocked. This was the nicest guy you would ever
want to meet. He was a family man, a really courteous guy, a devout Christian.
I was stunned and said to him: “You shot an unarmed man behind barbed
wire for throwing a stone.” He said, “Well, I knelt down. I said
a prayer, stood up and gunned them all down.” There was a complete disconnect
between what he had done and his own morality.
Q: Commanders permitted use of lethal
force against unarmed detainees. What was their response to the carnage?
DELGADO: Our Command took the grisly photos and posted them up in the headquarters.
It was a big, macho thing for our company to shoot more prisoners than any other unit.
Q: When did all this happen?
DELGADO: November 24th. The event was actually mentioned in the Taguba
Report,
under Protocol Golden Spike. And there’s more. Before our company transported
the bodies, the soldiers stopped and posed with the bodies and mutilated them
further. I got photos from the guy who was there, my friend. I have a photo
of a member of my unit, scooping out the prisoner’s brains with an MRE
[meals-ready-to-eat] spoon. Four people are looking on, two are taking photographs.
If you remember the Abu Ghraib stuff that came out on CNN, this kind of stuff
was common. You see guys posing with bodies, or toying with corpses. It was
a real common thing in the military, all because the guys thought Arabs are
terrorists, the scum of the earth. Anything we do to them is all right.
Q: So far as I know,
no commanders have been held accountable for events at Abu Ghraib. Your
story implicates commanders in ongoing brutality. In one of your presentations,
you said: “Our command definitely knew about the prisoners being
shot. They posted the photos in their headquarters. They knew all about
prisoners being beaten.” Did your commanders try
to prevent information from reaching the public?
DELGADO: After the Abu Ghraib scandal broke on CNN and TV, commanders came
out to us and said: “We are all family here. We don’t wash
our dirty linen in public. This story doesn’t need to go on CNN. Nobody needs to find out about this.” There was a sort of informal gag order.
Q: You enlisted in the Army Reserve in good faith. Now you are a conscientious
objector. Once in the Army Reserve, how did you become a C.O.?
DELGADO: After advanced training, I became serious about Buddhism. I read
translations of the Sutras. I became a vegetarian. Later, when I met Iraqi
prisoners firsthand, I saw the people who were supposed to be our enemies.
I did not feel any hatred for them. They were young, poor guys without an
education, like us. They had to fight us. And our guys were the same; they
had to fight them. And I said: “What
am I doing here, fighting poor people?” I went to my commander, turned
in my rifle, and said; “Look, I will stay in Iraq. I will finish my tour
as a mechanic. I will do my job, but I am not going to kill anyone.”
Q: You still served the whole tour in Iraq. How did your command respond to your request to become a C.O.?
DELGADO: As soon as I told them, they became hostile. They first took away
my hard, ballistic plates that go into my vest. They said: “You
are not going to fight, so you won’t need body armor.”
Q: The plates protect you from bullets and mortars. They are needed for safety, right? Were you still vulnerable?
DELGADO: Yes I was. They also took away my home leave, saying: “You won’t
come back.” I was supposed to be promoted, but they said
we can’t promote you. The command tried a lot of things to get me to
recant. I was ostracized. But the more they did to me, the more obstinate
I became. I made trouble for my command. I didn’t shave. I threatened
to get my Congressman involved. I called Buddhist organizations and the ACLU. They finally relented.
Q: I would like to review your observations. Your account does not focus
on one or two bad individuals. Essentially, you are describing the brutality
of a group, a collective loss of restraint, a complete breakdown of moral
order within the military. I am sure that your Christian buddy, a typical
American youth, would never shoot an unarmed person in private life. The theologian
Reinhold Niebuhr tells us that, with the sanction of the state, driven by
nationalism, moral, decent individuals become killers and torturers in groups.
You attribute the breakdown of restraint to racism. When did the process of
dehumanization of Arabs begin? Did basic training influence the consciousness
of our soldiers?
DELGADO: I went to Fort Knox for basic training. It was known to be harsher
than other bases. The training was mentally taxing, and there was already some anti-Arab sentiment.
Q: Like what?
DELGADO: In the early stages I remember Army chants. We sang in cadences.
And the chants had anti-Arab themes. Like burning turbans, killing ragheads, killing the Taliban.
Q: What did the chants say?
DELGADO: It was three years ago. I can’t tell the exact words, but the sentiment
was to burn turbans and kill ragheads. That was the phraseology. Our drill
sergeants would give us motivational talks to pump up our fighting spirit.
The theme was the need to get revenge, to go to the Middle East to fight Arabs.
Q: All this was before you even went to Iraq?
DELGADO: Yes. My own commander was infamous for anti-Arab speeches. Before
we were deployed to the Middle East, he said, “Now don’t
go tell the media that you’re going over there to kill some ragheads
and burn some turbans.” Everybody laughed, and he laughed with them.
I remember standing there in formation, having grown up in Egypt. And I was
thinking: “Oh,
my God, this is going to be a disaster. Our commander has this anti-Arab attitude
even before we go over.” The commander would give lectures about Islam.
He said that Muslims advocate a holy war against us, that Islam promotes perpetual
war. I’ve been surrounded by Muslims for a decade, exposed to their
culture. He is wrong.
Q: In the 1980s the U.S. military made a lot of reforms. It is widely believed
that racism in the military is now a thing of the past.
DELGADO: I have two answers. First, have we overcome racism in the sense
that blacks and whites are banded together in the hatred of Arabs? That’s
not progress. Second, we had an incident in our unit with a black specialist.
He was a nice guy, really popular in the unit. There was no physical fight,
but there was a dispute over him dating this white girl, having a relationship
with a white girl. Two white guys took a piece of rope, tied a noose, and
put a hangman’s noose on his bed. He found out who it was and went to
his black sergeant. They went to the equal opportunity representative. The
issue was effectively stifled.
Q: After your long ordeal, how do you feel about your country, and what do you want from the American people?
DELGADO: I still love my country. I love the idea of America. But I became
disillusioned. Now I want to let the American people know what they’re
signing on for when they say they support the war in Iraq. And I want Americans
to recognize the racial undertones of the occupation and to understand the
human costs of war.
Paul Rockwell is a columnist for In
Motion Magazine.
He can be reached via e-Mail at [email protected]. |