Eleven children in Gaza who were taking part in a program to recover from past trauma have been killed by Israeli airstrikes while sheltering in their homes, the Norwegian Refugee Council said Tuesday.
“They are now gone, killed with their families, buried with their dreams and the nightmares that haunted them,” NRC Secretary-General Jan Egeland said in a statement.
The children, ages 5 to 15, had been taking part in the group’s Better Learning Programme, designed to help youth “exposed to war and conflict in Palestine.”
One set of Israeli airstrikes in central Gaza City killed eight of the students, according to NRC, including two siblings and their father, Dr. Ayman Abu al-Auf, who was head of internal medicine at a nearby hospital.
Ten-year-old Rafeef Murshed Abu Dayer was killed by shrapnel, a week before his birthday, while having lunch in a garden outside his family’s home, the group said.
“As an urgent measure, we appeal to all parties for an immediate ceasefire,” Egeland said. “But the truth is that there can be no peace or security as long as there are systemic injustices,” he added, calling for an end to the years-long Israeli blockade of Gaza, which is controlled by the militant group Hamas.
NRC is a humanitarian organization that employs 15,000 people in 30 countries, providing displaced persons and others shelter, food, and others forms of assistance.
At least 212 people in Gaza, including 61 children, have been killed since Israel launched its air campaign last week against the Palestinian territory, responding to indiscriminate rocket fire from Hamas militants. Roughly 3,000 rockets have been fired at Israel by Hamas, the majority of which have been intercepted by Israel’s defense system the Iron Dome. A dozen Israelis have been killed, including two children.
The Israeli government says it takes steps to minimize the loss of civilian life. But human rights groups have said it has repeatedly bombed civilian homes without warning. On Monday, Amnesty International said that the Israeli attacks on residential build “may amount to war crimes.”
The Israeli government has engaged in a pattern of deadly attacks against residential homes in Gaza, carrying out bombing raids without giving the innocent men, women, and children inside any time to escape, Amnesty International charged on Monday.
The strikes, which show a “shocking disregard” for Palestinian civilians, “may amount to war crimes or crimes against humanity,” the human rights group said.
For over a week, Israeli forces have bombarded the Gaza Strip, a densely populated Palestinian territory controlled by the Hamas militant group. Israel has said its strikes are intended to stop indiscriminate rocket fire – itself a war crime – that has killed 10 of its citizens, including two children.
At least 212 Palestinians have been killed, including 61 children and 36 women, according to Gaza health authorities, prompting widespread criticism that the Israeli response has been disproportionate.
In one attack, carried out after 1:00 a.m., Israeli airstrikes leveled two residential buildings, killing 30 people.
“There was no warning, so people were inside their home sitting together, and this is a lively, bustling area,” a medic, Yousef Yassin, told researchers with Amnesty International.
Another strike, just before midnight, hit a three-story residential building that 20 people called home.
“We eventually found my daughter, a mother of three, with her children, one of whom was a baby, under one of the cement pillars of the house; all of them were dead,” Hassan al-Atar, a civil defense officer, told the group.
Saleh Higazi, Amnesty’s deputy director for the Middle East and North Africa, said it was “hard to imagine” how bombing such buildings could be considered a proportionate response under international law.
“By carrying out these brazen deadly attacks on family homes without warning Israel has demonstrated a callous disregard for lives of Palestinian civilians who are already suffering the collective punishment of Israel’s illegal blockade on Gaza since 2007,” Higazi said.
The findings come days after Amnesty warned that Israeli authorities “have an obligation to choose means and methods of attacks that would minimize risks posed to civilians,” and amid increasing calls for and end to the fighting.
The White House, however, had resisted such calls, with President Joe Biden insisting that the Israeli response – made possible, in part, by more than $3 billion in US military aid – is not in fact a “significant overreaction.”
The US has also reportedly blocked efforts at the United Nations Security Council to issue a statement demanding a cessation of hostilities.
By Monday night, however, Biden was echoing his party. In a phone call with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, Biden “encouraged Israel to make every effort to ensure the protection of innocent civilians,” according to a White House statement. He also “expressed his support for a ceasefire.”
When it comes to armed drones, is smaller and more precise necessarily better?
The question came to my mind upon seeing the news that the US Air Force just successfully test-launched a new weaponizable drone, the ALTIUS-600, making it the smallest drone in operation. Even more remarkably, this tiny aircraft was launched from the second-smallest-drone, the Kratos XQ-58A Valkyrie, while the Valkyrie was in flight.
There is nothing objectionable about the development of mini-drones. One could even argue they would be improvements, in humanitarian terms, over the use of the much larger Reaper to deliver 500-pound bombs in allegedly “precise” strikes that instead often sweep up scores of civilians and destroy the property their surviving family members rely on for their livelihoods.
But the US military’s obsession with minimalism – from fewer boots on the ground to lower-payload munitions – also minimalizes public engagement with the wider ethics of armed violence.
The emphasis on size, mobility and precision is the product of a highly limited and limiting view rife in American political discourse: that the key ethical and legal problem presented by armed drones is collateral damage. This narrative – reflected in public opinion surveys, Hollywood films and political discourse – circumscribes debate.
Due process is required for state-sanctioned executions; guilt must be proven, not assumed. And even the death penalty for criminals convicted of the worst genuine offenses is increasingly frowned upon and must be carried out using humane means. The only exceptions to this prohibition on the use of deadly force are in cases of imminent harm to others where no other options for preventing that harm are available.
Of course, in times of war, things shift, and the law of war applies. The default proscription against killing is lifted, but only under strict conditions, reflecting the fact that war is considered an aberration, a small subset of the variety of circumstances in which states might direct lethal force against individuals. Among the conditions that must be met, a state of war must apply.
Those doing the violence must be members of the state’s armed forces; civilian CIA pilots would be unlawful combatants. The targets must be military objectives, not civilians. And the harm and suffering caused even to legitimate military targets must be minimized to what is necessary to weaken the enemy and not involve inhumane methods or disproportionate or indiscriminate collateral harm.
Here and only here do the rules of collateral damage apply, with the central question being, How much harm to bystanders and infrastructure is acceptable given the necessity of hitting a particular legitimate military target with a particular military means deployed by a particular military actor in a particular military context?
In short, the collateral damage question is embedded within the rules governing who may be targeted, which are in turn embedded within the rules governing who may do the targeting, which are subordinate to the bigger question of whether a situation falls within the scope of war law at all, rather than peacetime human rights rules.
Yet, popular attention so often focuses on this tiny subset of the rules governing collateral damage, eliding these higher-level issues.
Suppose a drone were not only perfectly precise and relatively humane, but also carried a firearm rather than explosives or sword blades. Suppose it killed quickly, rather than burning its victims alive or hacking them death, as a new Hellfire missile is designed to do in the name of limiting collateral damage. And suppose the identity of the target could be determined without fail, using biometrics before a bullet was fired.
The accuracy of such an attack does not resolve the question of whether a kill decision is correct in the first place. These targeting decisions often rely on human intelligence – reports from locals – to determine who is allegedly a mortal danger to US interests.
At times, in fact, the US has often relied not on specific kill orders of specific individuals, but rather on “signature strikes” – a best estimate of who is likely to match the profile of a suspected militant in a particular context – to determine whether to launch a strike that often targets whole groups.
As the NGOs Article 36 and Reaching Critical Will have documented, signature strikes have been carried out based on criteria as arbitrary as the sex and age of the victims, with nearly any military-age male in a frontier region vulnerable to lethal strike. These combinations of false stereotypes, faulty intelligence, mnemonic shortcuts and sheer hubris have killed scores of civilian teenage boys, not by accident, not by precision weapons failure, but by design.
These civilian men and boys directly targeted by the US include 16-year-old Tariq Aziz, a soccer player, amateur photographer and anti-drone activist. Aziz died in late October 2011 in Waziristan, Pakistan, when a CIA-fired Hellfire missile burned him and his 12-year-old cousin Waheed Khan beyond recognition as he drove to give his aunt a ride home from a wedding.
Even in a precise strike carried out far from other villages, with no collateral damage, the killings of these boys would have been not only tragic, but criminal. In a real war, we would have called this a case of civilian targeting – a war crime. In peacetime – a more accurate view of the state of relations between the US and Pakistan – we would simply call this murder.
That the Pakistani government approved or perhaps even requested the strike doesn’t make it legitimate. It merely makes both governments complicit in political murder.
All these important legal concerns are lost in a view of weaponized drones and targeted killings that sees the main issues as those of precision, human intelligence, accuracy and the reduction of collateral damage to “bystander” civilians, as if the civilians we are directly targeting merit no outrage on their own.
Reducing collateral damage is important in real wars, but that is not the only or even the primary concern with the use of ever-smaller lethal technology to wage ever-more subtle forms of peacetime political violence.
Terrorism is a crime. States are obligated to capture criminal suspects, put them on trial, allow them to defend themselves and free them if they are found innocent. Drones enable the opposite, as do special operations teams with kill orders.
But drones do something else as well: They provide a veneer of precision and bloodlessness that directs our attention to efforts at collateral damage control, obfuscating the reality of what is and has always been a campaign of extrajudicial execution sweeping up civilians whether by accident or by design.
It concludes, “A policy that allows the use of covert, lethal force under the laws of armed conflict outside of the context of an armed conflict undermines the protection of internationally recognized human rights and international law.”
It added that any reform agenda must not make the mistake of focusing too narrowly on any single abuse, which “risks missing the emergence of a more problematic phenomenon, the gradual accumulation of legal loopholes.”
As a result of this ethical devolution, not limited to but certainly epitomized by drone politics, our understanding not only of political-legal reality, but also of political-legal possibility, becomes smaller and more insignificant.
Leaders of the free world would be wise to reverse course and return to fundamental principles. One reason to be heartened is the fact that President Joe Biden’s review of the use of US drones outside of active battlefields is really a review of America’s targeted killing program.
To be clear: Weaponized drones themselves are also not the problem. Drones are only a platform, and what matters in international law terms is how platforms are used. But if there is a reason to focus on drones, it is because of the way in which, as Gregoire Chamayou shows us, our conceptual understanding of drones as a particular technology has also impacted our ability to even notice what is wrong with their use in international law terms.
Focusing on technology relaxes our legal and ethical horizon and narrows our parameters of debate, and this needs to change. Smaller and simpler is not always better. Less is not always more.
Charli Carpenter is a professor of political science and legal studies at University of Massachusetts-Amherst, specializing in human security and international law. She tweets @charlicarpenter. Her WPR guest column will appear every other Friday.