Villagers Released by American Troops Say They Were Beaten, Kept in 'Cage'

By Molly Moore
Washington Post Foreign Service
Monday, February 11, 2002; Page A01

URUZGAN, Afghanistan, Feb. 10 -- Afghan villagers who were misidentified by U.S. military forces as al Qaeda and Taliban fighters said they were beaten and kicked by their captors and imprisoned in what they described as a wooden-barred "cage" at a U.S. base in Kandahar.

Several of the 27 former prisoners, who were released Wednesday, said U.S. soldiers treated them so harshly that two men lost consciousness during the beatings while others suffered fractured ribs, loosened teeth and swollen noses.

"They were beating us on the head and back and ribs," said Allah Noor, 40, a farmer and policeman for the new government who said he suffered two fractured ribs at the military base where the men were imprisoned. "They were punching us with fists, kicking me with their feet. They said, 'You are terrorist! You are al Qaeda! You are Taliban!' "

Four of the 27 men described their experiences here for the first time since they were nabbed in an early morning attack Jan. 24 at a local school and a district government office that Pentagon officials described as outposts for al Qaeda and Taliban hold-outs. Twenty-one other villagers were killed in the assault and one U.S. soldier was wounded.

The U.S. attacks in this remote village in the home province of Afghanistan's interim leader, Hamid Karzai, added to a list of incidents involving misleading intelligence, mistaken identities and other errors that have led to killings of civilians and friendly forces during the war in Afghanistan.

The U.S. military released the captives two weeks after they were detained, with one officer telling them, "We are sorry. We committed a mistake bombing this place," according to the ex- prisoners.

U.S. officials in Washington, acknowledging that something went wrong here, have said the CIA is distributing reparations money to the families of those killed. Although the U.S. Central Command, which runs the war in Afghanistan, released the 27 men, it has steadfastly refused to acknowledge error, saying an investigation is still underway.

Local government officials said that many of those killed or captured, far from being Taliban or al Qaeda sympathizers, were involved in the struggle to oust the harsh Islamic forces and that most were working for the new administration. Two of the men killed in the attack were heading a local disarmament drive to collect weapons from former Taliban sympathizers and other citizens; one of the prisoners was the new district police chief, Abdul Rauf.

Like many of his newly recruited police officers, Rauf was spending the night at the district police office the night of the attack. The gunfire and shouting outside the building jarred sleeping policemen awake just before 3 a.m. Rauf -- who had a job similar to his current one before the Taliban took power in his province -- recognized loud American voices.

"They are our friends," a relieved Rauf told his frightened men. "Don't run. They won't do anything to us."

Several minutes later, Rauf said, he was curled on his side fending off boot kicks to his back and knee jabs into his chest. He screamed in Pashto, "We're friends! We're friends, friends, friends!"

Rauf, who places his age somewhere between 60 and 65, heard one of his ribs crack, and then, he said, he blacked out.

Local officials interviewed here said they believe someone intentionally misled the U.S. military into believing al Qaeda or Taliban forces were using the buildings that were bombed on the outskirts of this village, 150 miles and a bone-crunching 13-hour drive north of Kandahar.

"They [the Americans] know who is responsible," said Jan Mohammad Khan, governor of the region that includes Uruzgan province. "People have died. Whoever is responsible should be executed."

Uruzgan officials readily describe local power struggles and tribal rivalries that have caused some local offices to change hands in the weeks since the Taliban government collapsed. But in interviews, they would not say such rivalries had led to the attack on the village's two most prominent government buildings.

Pentagon officials have said they decided to target the school and government building based on conversations with local individuals and surveillance of activities that fit the patterns of al Qaeda or Taliban militants.

According to Abdul Qudoos Irfani, district chief of Uruzgan, the government building was occupied by officials loyal to Karzai, including Rauf, the police chief. The building contained stores of ammunition left over from Taliban occupation of the facility, he said.

Aziz Agha, head of the local disarmament commission -- one of many created by the Karzai administration in villages across the country -- said the school was being used to store ammunition and weapons seized in the arms-collection program. He said officials had used the schoolyard to store vehicles confiscated from people who had stolen them from aid organizations or the pre-Taliban government.

Agha was selected to head the commission after its previous leader was killed in the U.S. attack on the school.

"Americans are coming and bombing places, killing people, tying up their hands and taking them from here," Agha said.

Agha said he also lost nine family members during an earlier U.S. bombing raid. He said pilots mistook his family's tractor-trailer for a fleeing al Qaeda vehicle. "This is a crime," he said.

The Jan. 24 attacks appeared to have been launched within minutes of each other at the local school and the district government building. The two sites are less than a half-mile apart in Hazar Qadam, an Uruzgan neighborhood that shares a name with a village about 15 miles to the northeast.

The bloodiest assault occurred at the school, a U-shaped building of gray stone. Its courtyard is now a graveyard of twisted, shrapnel-shredded vehicles. Its facade is pocked with hundreds of bullet holes. The floor of one classroom is marked with bloodstains. The administrative office is charred black.

"I first heard a missile hit, then two minutes later the shooting started," said Amanullah, 25, one of about 30 employees of the disarmament commission who was sleeping at the compound, a common practice in rural communities where transportation is limited and distances are vast. "I heard shouting outside coming toward the rooms."

Amanullah said he and three companions scrambled out the windows as soldiers burst through the door spraying the room with bullets. "I was very scared," he said. "Bullets were hitting the window."

In one classroom, the door jamb, walls and window frames were spattered with bullet holes.

Amanullah said he glanced back and saw soldiers struggling with his cousin, who had tried to escape with him. Amanullah hid in a nearby mosque throughout the night and returned the next morning to find his cousin dead, with bullet wounds to the back of his neck, stomach and shoulder. He said the rounds all appeared to have been fired from behind.

His cousin's hands, he said, were bound behind his back with white plastic handcuffs stenciled with the words "Made in U.S.A." Amanullah said he saw eight bodies of men who had been handcuffed. He began cutting the strips of plastic off so the men could be returned to their families for burial.

Local officials said 19 men were killed at the school, including the two top officers of the disarmament commission, whose bodies were found burned.

About 100 yards from the school, Special Forces troops blasted open the metal front door of Abdul Ali's mud-walled house. Soldiers grabbed Ali, a medic for the International Committee of the Red Cross, and tied his hands behind his back, his family recalled. Other soldiers searched the house, herding Ali's two wives and 13 children into the center courtyard.

Fazal Rabi, Ali's 16-year-old son, had already been awakened by the shooting and blasts at the nearby school. "We were very scared," he said. "We were so afraid."

"My father said, 'Please shout, scream and maybe they'll release me,' " Rabi said. Children and their mothers were already sobbing and crying.

The soldiers later locked the family in the kitchen, tied the door shut and left the house.

At nearly the same time the assault occurred at the school and Ali's home, U.S. Special Forces slipped into the compound of the district government building where district government employees, including Rauf, the police chief, were sleeping.

Pentagon officials said U.S. troops began shooting because they were fired on at the two compounds. Former prisoners and other witnesses at both sites, most of whom had been asleep when the incident began, either reported hearing no weapons fire from their own guards or said they were unaware how the event started.

Two men were killed and 27 were taken prisoner at the district building. The detainees included six men taken out of the police station jail, where they had been held on various criminal charges. Missiles destroyed a portion of the building where weapons were stored and destroyed several vehicles.

The U.S. forces, who were wearing masks, tied the detainees' hands and feet, blindfolded them and slipped hoods over their heads, according to several of the prisoners.

Each of the prisoners interviewed said they had been beaten, kicked and punched with the soldiers' fists, feet and in some cases, gunstocks. "I thought they were going to kill me," said Ziauddin, 50, who was working as a guard for the new post-Taliban government and said two of his upper teeth had been knocked loose. "We had no idea why they were beating us. We were completely innocent."

They were then loaded into helicopters and flown to the U.S. base at Kandahar.

When the men reached the base, "They told us to lie on the cold floor," said Allah Noor, the policeman. As the soldiers were beating the men, the prisoners were screaming, "We're Karzai's people. We have been for two months."

All 27 men were forced onto their stomachs, with their hands tied behind their backs and their feet chained, according to each of four former prisoners interviewed. They were then all connected with a rope, they said. "They were walking on our backs like we were stones," Rauf said. "They hit me in the head. My nose hit the ground and became very swollen."

The next morning the U.S. soldiers tore off the men's clothing and ordered them to put on blue uniforms, the detainees said. At one point, Akhtar Mohammad, 17, said he lost consciousness. Mohammad said he was kept in solitary confinement in a large shipping container for much of his detention.

The six accused criminals taken from the jail were separated from the group. But the 20 other men were kept together in what they described as a "cage" with wooden bars and a canvas top. The men said they were fed U.S. military Meals Ready-to-Eat and were not allowed to wash.

Despite the treatment, Mohammad said, "It wasn't the Americans' fault. Someone gave them misinformation."

Rauf said a U.S. military officer told him during his third and final interrogation session two days before the release: "We are sorry. We committed a mistake bombing this place."

Rauf, huddled under a brown blanket in a corner of his mud-walled house, said he still can barely stand because of the blows to his kidneys. "I can never forgive them," he said.