UNITED NATIONS - Hans von Sponeck believed he could help heal Iraq's wounds.
Instead, he became another casualty of one of the world's longest-running
tragedies.
``I thought it was possible to meet the minimum needs of Iraqis even with
sanctions in
place,'' says von Sponeck, who was director of the United Nations humanitarian
relief
program in Iraq until he resigned in protest three months ago. ``I was
wrong.''
Von Sponeck, who spent 32 years as a top U.N. civil servant in Africa,
Europe and
Asia until his career crashed to a painful end in Baghdad, was the fifth
director in the
five-year history of the U.N. Office of the Iraq Program (OIP). ``I was
actually the
person who stayed the longest, almost 17 months,'' he says from his home
in Geneva,
where he has taken early retirement. ``My predecessor lasted just 13 months
before he
quit.''
The serial resignations provide extra ammunition for critics who say the
U.N. embargo
against Iraq hurts the wrong people.
``Some 167 Iraqi children are dying every day,'' von Sponeck says. ``Maybe
the
sanctions were once defensible as a temporary measure, but after nine years
they are
violating international law.''
Moreover, the grisly tales of poverty and malnutrition out of Iraq raise
questions
about whether embargoes are still a useful international tool. That was
the British
parliament's conclusion this year in a report noting the drastic consequences
of the
Iraq embargo.
Ironically, the program headed by von Sponeck was an attempt to shield
ordinary
Iraqis from just such a situation. The so-called Oil For Food arrangement
was created
by the U.N. Security Council in 1995 - four years after Saddam Hussein's
defeat in the
Gulf War - as a temporary means of allowing Iraq to buy food, medicine
and other
basic supplies with revenue from its rich oil reserves.
According to von Sponeck, it was doomed from the start because the big
powers -
particularly the United States and Britain - systematically manipulated
the program to
serve political aims. ``Instead of being about saving children's lives,
it's about saving
face,'' he says.
Western diplomats and some of von Sponeck's former U.N. colleagues angrily
deny
the charge. They insist the real culprit is Saddam, who exploits his people's
to win
international support for ending the embargo.
Nevertheless, the complaints of normally publicity-shy U.N. bureaucrats
like von
Sponeck are becoming hard to ignore.
How did things get to this point?
Under the Office of the Iraq Program, Iraq was given a ceiling in U.S.
dollars on the
amount of oil it could sell in each 180-day period, starting with $2 billion
and reaching
more than $5 billion until the ceilings were finally lifted this year.
The money is deposited in eight bank accounts in Europe and the United
States,
where it is administered by U.N. officials. They use it to pay for food
and medicine
shipped to Iraq on the basis of contracts signed by the Baghdad regime.
Thanks to the U.N. program, more than 10 million metric tonnes of foodstuffs
and the
equivalent of nearly $10.5 billion in medicine and health supplies have
poured into the
country since 1997.
While that sounds like a lot of aid, Iraqi officials say it is of limited
use in a country
whose infrastructure has been stretched to the breaking point. Private
relief
organizations and even some U.N. officials back that argument.
``No matter how much food you give a person, the minute she takes contaminated
water - because of unsanitary conditions and the breakdown of Iraq's clean
water
supply - that investment is down the drain,'' admits one senior OIP official
who asked
to remain anonymous.
Although the U.N. has begun to approve contracts for infrastructure supplies
and
spare parts, chronic breakdowns in Iraq's electricity grid, hospital network
and
distribution system condemn what was once a sophisticated economy to have-not
status.
That, of course, was supposed to be the point of the embargo in the first place.
It was a means to force Saddam to comply with the disarmament pledges he
made at
the end of the war. If Saddam continued to resist, the thinking went, his
suffering
people would rise up and get rid of him.
Whether that was ever a realistic scenario, the Oil For Food program was
clearly not
the solution to Iraq's dilemma. Was it part of the problem?
``What we do is operate a machine which enables the government of Iraq
to sell its oil
and buy what its people most need,'' explains John Mills, the Oil For Food
program's
chief spokesperson in New York.
``We're not direct players, except in the northern areas of the country,
which are
under direct U.N. control.''
In fact, the U.N. is far from a passive participant. It must approve each
list of items
requested by Baghdad, partly to ensure Iraqis get minimum standards of
nutrition and
partly to make sure no suspect material that could be used for military
purposes slips
through the embargo.
More than $2.5 billion worth of alleged ``dual-purpose'' goods have been
held up,
ranging from chlorine and pesticides to heavy trucks and ambulances.
The number is small compared with the total amount of aid. But according
to von
Sponeck and other critics, it demonstrates how U.N. efforts to micromanage
the relief
effort inadvertently worsen Iraq's situation.
``In all my years at the U.N., I had never been exposed to the kind of
political
manoeuvring and pressure that I saw at work in this program,'' says von
Sponeck.
He says the core of the problem lies in U.S. domination of the ``sanctions
committee''
appointed by the Security Council to oversee the program.
Washington's fears of granting any concessions to Saddam that might erode
the
sanctions caused periodic delays in shipments and occasionally prevented
key
supplies from arriving at all, he adds.
Von Sponeck won't give specific details, but says he concluded that to
stay any
longer as OIP director ``would have made me a guilty party.''
His predecessor was equally disturbed by the contradiction of operating
a
humanitarian program in the shadow of an embargo. ``Surely, it's time that
(we) find an
alternative way to live with Iraq without punishing an innocent populace,''
Dennis
Halliday said during a joint appearance with von Sponeck before a U.S.
congressional
subcommittee this spring.
Both men, as well as other U.N. officials who left the program, have called
for
separating the military and economic embargoes on Iraq.
``Smart'' sanctions, they say, would target elite members and institutions
of the Iraqi
regime that have so far been able to avoid the worst consequences, thanks
to
widespread smuggling and profiteering.
Von Sponeck says that by altering the embargo, ``President (Bill) Clinton
in his final
year of office could perform a real act of statesmanship, but the Americans
and British
are as cornered as the Iraqis.''
The two ex-directors have been accused of being apologists for Saddam,
a charge
von Sponeck bitterly rebuts.
``I've got little time for dictators, considering the history of my own
country,'' says
von Sponeck, a German national.
``But we're treating Iraq as if it were made up of 23 million Saddam Husseins,
which is
rubbish.''
Meanwhile, von Sponeck can only sympathize with his successor, another
veteran
U.N. bureaucrat named Benon Sevan. ``I wish him nothing but good luck,''
von
Sponeck says sadly.
``But if he has a conscience, he will go through the same process I did.''