Refiguring the Iraq body count
By Andrew Cockburn
ANDREW COCKBURN is the coauthor of "Out of the Ashes: The Resurrection
of Saddam Hussein" (HarperPerennial, 2000).
December 17, 2005
ALMOST AS soon as President Bush gave the number of Iraqis who have
died as a result of the U.S. invasion and occupation as "30,000, more
or less," aides hastened to downplay the number as "unofficial,"
plucked by Bush from "public estimates."
The president may have been quoting figures published by
iraqbodycount.org, which has tabulated a death toll as high as 30,892
purely on the basis of published press reports of combatrelated
killings. As IBC readily concedes, the estimate must be incomplete
because it omits unreported deaths.
There is, however,
another and more reliable method for estimating figures such as these:
nationwide random sampling. No one doubts that the result accurately
reflects the overall situation if the sample is truly random and the
consequent data correctly calculated. That, after all, is how market
researchers assess public opinion on everything from politicians to
breakfast cereals.
In 2000, a team led by Les Roberts of Johns
Hopkins School of Public Health used random sampling to calculate the
death toll in the Congolese civil war at 1.7 million. This figure
prompted immediate action by the U.N. Security Council. No one
questioned the methodology.
In September 2004, Roberts led a
similar team that researched death rates in Iraq before and after the
2003 invasion. Making "conservative assumptions," the team concluded
that "about 100,000 excess deaths" among men, women and children had
occurred in 18 months. Most were directly attributable to the breakdown
of the healthcare system prompted by the invasion. Violent deaths had
soared twentyfold.
Unlike the respectful applause granted the
Congolese study, this one, published in the prestigious British medical
journal the Lancet, generated a firestorm of criticism. The outrage may
have been prompted by the unsettling possibility that Iraq's liberation
had already caused a third as many Iraqi deaths as the reported 300,000
murdered by Saddam Hussein in his decades of tyranny. So shocking was
this concept that liberals joined hawks in denouncing the study.
Some of the attacks were selfevidently absurd. British Prime Minister
Tony Blair's spokesman, for example, questioned the survey because it
"appeared to be based on an extrapolation technique rather than a
detailed body count," as if Blair had never made a political decision
based on a poll.
Some questioned whether the sample was
distorted by unrepresentative hot spots such as Fallouja. In fact, the
amazingly dedicated and courageous Iraqi doctors who actually gathered
the data visited 33 "clusters" selected on an entirely random basis. In
each of these clusters, the teams conducted interviews in 30
households, again selected on a rigorously random basis. As it
happened, Fallouja was one of the clusters that came up in this
process. Erring on the side of caution, they eliminated Fallouja from
their sample. Strictly speaking, the team should have included the data
from that embattled city in their final result — random is random after
all — which would have given an overall post-invasion excess death
figure of no less than 268,000.
Many critics made a meal of the
study's passing mention of a 95% "confidence interval" for the overall
death toll of between 8,000 and 194,000. This did not mean, as asserted
by some who ought to have known better, that the true figure lay
between those numbers, and that the 98,000 number was produced by
splitting the difference. In fact, the 98,000 figure represents the
best estimate drawn from the data. Had the published study (which was
intensively peer reviewed) cited the 80% confidence interval also
calculated by the team — a statistically respectable option — then the
spread would have been between 44,000 and 152,000.
Such
statistical arcana were obviously beyond the grasp of most
commentators, while the lack of any reference to the Johns Hopkins
results in reports of Bush's recent remarks surely indicates a
persistent reluctance to confront what we have really done to Iraq.
Columbia professor Richard Garfield, one of the team members and study
authors, told me this week that by now the number of "excess deaths" in
Iraq "couldn't possibly be less than 150,000." But, he added, "there's
no reason to be guessing. We ought to know better."
Copyright 2005 Los Angeles Times