In Any War, Deadly Mistakes Happen

When the news broke that a NATO aircraft had mistakenly bombed a civilian convoy in Kosovo, killing 75 refugees, I had a sad sense of deja vu.

Three years ago, almost to the day, I stood before a swarm of journalists, and like Jamie Shea, NATO’s spokesman, I had to express regret for the loss of life of civilians. It was during Operation Grapes of Wrath, when Israel had launched a full-scale air and artillery campaign in Lebanon, aiming to put an end to the harassment of its north by Katyusha rockets.

The campaign started well and enjoyed a vast support from the Israeli public. Daily, a-la-Schwarzkopf briefings were conducted, with the usual video clips showing smart bombs hitting their targets with bull’s-eye precision. There were a lot of promises in the air, to inflict on Hezbollah, the radical Shiite organization, a heavy punishment for its intransigence. The fact that Hezbollah kept launching its Katyushas undeterred, braving our superior firepower, didn’t let us down. One more day of shelling and bombing, we reassured ourselves, and they would surely yield to our pressure.

Then came the tragic incident of Kana. After firing more than 12,000 artillery shells, trying with surgical precision to hit only Hezbollah targets, not innocent civilians, it only took five rounds from an Israeli howitzer to drastically change the course of events. Missing their target, these shells hit a United Nations compound near the village of Kana, where Lebanese refugees had found shelter, killing more than 100 of these poor people.

We deeply apologized for the deadly mistake, but rightfully blamed the Hezbollah--like NATO is blaming Slobodan Milosevic--for putting innocent people in harm’s way. Nevertheless, after Kana, it was difficult to hold the moral high ground, and soon after, the operation was brought to an end, achieving its aims only partially.

I suspect that if the assault against Slobodan Milosevic is carried on unchanged, then despite all the good intentions, it might suffer the same fate, and for the same reasons.

Having flown with the Israeli Air Force for the last three decades, I can relate to what the American pilot who had dropped the bomb on that convoy must have felt. There he was, flying over Kosovo, trying to do exactly what was expected from him: to help stop Milosovic’s barbarian ethnic cleansing. Suddenly he saw units of the Yugoslav Army and special police, moving through villages and setting them on fire. He then spotted a convoy, which he believed was a military one heading to join the others in the business of murder. Only after making several passes to confirm these were really military vehicles did he attack the convoy. Alas, he made a mistake, which cost the lives of innocent people.

In war, fatal mistakes like this happen. With all the efforts to avoid civilian loss of life, there is no way to guarantee it. The problem is that with the destructiveness of air power, when mistakes like this happen, they often end up in carnage.

Democracies always try to avoid using ground forces, because ground battles mean body bags and the decline of public support. Air power, therefore, seems like a convenient tool to implement policy. It is handy, flexible and not so costly in terms of casualties.

True indeed, but when one of those inevitable mistakes occur, like the bombing of the wrong convoy in Kosovo, air power can turn into a double-edged sword: The gruesome scenes shown on TV are likely to drive public support away. NATO now is facing a dilemma of what to do next. One thing is evident: Air power alone is not the answer.