Racism, Warlords, and Oil in Black Hawk Down

Reel Whirled Peas:



The sight of blood and gore does not bother me too much. I worked my way through college doing odd jobs at a funeral home. Having said that, I rarely watch films that are violent because I suspect there will be acts of cruelty and injustice that will offend my sensibilities. For that reason, I never before watched Black Hawk Down, Ridley Scott’s film based on Mark Bowden’s documented series that appeared in the Philadelphia Inquirer. I remembered seeing the CNN footage of the Somalis dragging the body of a slain American soldier through the street, and being angry that they would do that to someone over there to help them. When the film came out in 2002, I decided not to relive that anger. But my summer courses have set me on a path toward a personal glasnost, and learning the truth about America’s actions on October 3, 1993 is another step toward being de-Fox News-ified.

The film was released on an accelerated schedule not long after 9/11, ostensibly to cash in on the rising tide of patriotism. Larry Chin, Associate Editor of Online Journal and vitriolic critic of all things Republican and military, said that the film was an example of “(Hollywood) being true to its post 9/11 government-sanctioned role as US war propaganda headquarters”. That seems like an odd thing for him to suggest, because Hollywood has traditionally been a bastion of anti-war liberalism. Rather than pandering to the military I believe the early release was motivated by good old-fashioned greed. Emotionally emasculated Americans wanted images of heroism and military might, and despite the ambiguity of the operation’s outcome, most viewers came away feeling good about the bravery of the soldiers.

But the timing of the film’s release aside, several critics point to problems with the depictions of the events and characters, three of which this paper will explore: The film’s racist tone, its characterization of General Aideed, and the influence of American oil companies to prompt former President Bush to commit U.S. troops to Somalia in the first place.

At first glance the film certainly looks to be a race war between whites and blacks. I counted one black and one Hispanic soldier among the troops sent in to execute the operation. The long shots of angry Somalis marching up the streets, the roving bands of marauding militias, black children and women aiding in the destruction of honorable white soldiers. Chin describes the images as a series of racist subtexts: “Americans are good and they hate us for no reason”, “they are ungrateful”, “they are black”, “they are Muslims”.

I think his assessment is harsh. The fact is that Somalis are the enemy in this film, and Somalis are black. The film establishes that the central neighborhood where the firefight took place was a stronghold of General Aideed. The film does not address the basis for the animosity Aideed’s followers feel toward Americans, but it shows crowded streets of lawlessness, where automatic weapons are openly sold (and tested) on the street. None of the critics refuted that description of the Bakara Market. In his review, David Perry says the film implies that everyone in Somalia was loyal to Aideed and antagonistic toward the U.S. Yet, as General Garrison is laying out the operation he says that the convoys will pass first through a couple of friendly neighborhoods. Then, as the convoys finally leave the battle zone, soldiers on foot are met by Somali children who lead them down the street past a throng of non-antagonistic residents. “Friendly” Somalis are on screen very briefly, but in showing them the filmmakers attempt to convey that not all Somalis/Blacks/Muslims were participants in the hostilities.

Mickey Kaus, on the other hand, points out the racism inherent in statements about the casualties of the battle. The filmmakers list the names of the 18 killed in the firefight – correction – the 18 Americans killed – overlooking the 400-500 Somali men, women and children who died. There seems to be acceptance, says Kaus, by the military and the movie’s viewers, of an “exchange ratio” of perhaps 25 Somalis deaths for each American death. I think Kaus is right. Regretfully, as I watched the movie I tried keeping track of the number of American casualties, but was only mindful of two Somali killings: The boy who inadvertently shoots his father, and the woman who picks up the weapon of a Somali just killed. I guess there is always prejudice when pulling for one’s side.

The only description the film provides for Mohammad Farah Aideed is that he is “the most powerful of warlords, (who) rules the capital Mogadishu. He seizes international food shipments at the ports. Hunger is his weapon. The world responds. Behind a force of 20,000 U.S. Marines, food is delivered and order is restored. April 1993. Aideed waits until the Marines withdraw, and then declares war on the remaining U.N. peacekeepers. In June, Aideed’s militia ambush and slaughter 24 Pakistani soldiers, and begin targeting American personnel.” Kaus confirms those facts, although he implies that the events are taken out of context. Then in the opening scene, we see some of Aideed’s militia open fire on a crowd of unarmed civilians trying to get grain from a Red Cross food shipment. The militia has claimed the shipment as the property of Aideed. That incident cannot be found in literature, according to Kaus.

Clearly, Aideed is characterized as an evil man, a fair target of the U.S. Army. In Kaus’s article he quotes a Wall Street Journal review as saying that the film’s producer insisted that Aideed be “unmistakably portrayed as a Hitler-like figure responsible for thousands of killings.” The audience is left with the impression that this is a madman, bent on killing Somalis and relief workers alike. But is the characterization fair and accurate?

Aideed was a onetime favorite of pro-Western President Mohammad Siad Barre. In his summary of the events leading to October 3, Karamatullah K. Ghori describes Aideed as having “imbibed a lot of India in him” during his five years as Somali Ambassador to India. He returned to Somalia against Barre’s wishes, and proceeded to become one of the President’s chief “tormentors”. Civil war broke out across Somalia, as Aideed and other warlords sought to overthrow the corrupt government of Barre, whose business dealings with American oil companies made him rich but did little for the Somali people. Barre was overthrown in January 1991, and Aideed, the recognized leader of the militarily superior Habr Gidr [Hawiye] clan, eventually assumed control of most of Mogadishu.

The U.N. wanted peace among the warring clans, as well as a coalition government. According to Kaus, Aideed believed his clan had earned the right to rule the country, a position that was untenable to the U.N., and particularly to U.N. head Boutros Boutros-Ghali, who was a supporter of Barre. The U.N., whose initial foray into the country was for humanitarian aid, undertook a series of actions designed to weaken Aideed’s hold on power. In 2004 article, Somalia: The Long Struggle for National Unity, Jabril Sanei says Aideed interpreted the U.N.’s actions as trying to divide Somalia along tribal lines, for him an act of imperialism. When the U.N. raided Aideed’s radio station in June 1993, Aideed’s United Somali Congress (USC) militia responded by brutally killing the Pakistani soldiers. That action prompted U.N. security head James Howe to call in the U.S. Special Forces to hunt down and arrest Aideed.

An operation conducted by the U.S. on July 12, 1993 resulted in the deaths of 50-70 Habr Gidr [Hawiye] clan elders and intellectuals, meeting to discuss Aideed’s response to the U.N. Chin states that the missile attack was retribution for the killing of the Pakistanis, and that many of the clan leaders killed were moderates promoting a peaceful settlement. The operation resulted in the clan declaring war on the U.S., and spurred other clans to join ranks with the USC. That is why, Kaus points out, it looks as though nearly everyone in Mogadishu rallies against the soldiers on October 3.

I believe Aideed was a bad guy, but warlords are supposed to be bad guys. In most civil wars ruthless and oftentimes brutal leaders lead opposing factions. Kaus points out that the U.S. cooperates with brutal warlords today in Afghanistan. The film’s suggestion that Aideed was unique in his villainy owes more to creating an unsavory film enemy than to reality. After all, a month or so after President Clinton called back the Army Rangers the U.N. convened a peace conference in Ethiopia and reversed its position on Aideed. Instead, according to Sanei, the U.N. tried to bring him together with other clan leaders to form a central government. By the end of 1994, Aideed appointed himself president and formed a government representative of all the clans in Somalia. I do not know whether other warlords in Somalia were more brutal, but it is clear that others may have been more accommodating to the West.

That leads us to our third issue, this one raised in the readings: Was American participation prompted by protecting American oil interests?

According to Sanei, Barre seized power in a military coup in 1969, and by 1974 the U.S. was providing military aid to prop up his government. War with Ethiopia resulted in an economic and social crisis in 1980, and opposition to Barre’s autocratic and corrupt government intensified. Barre undertook a series of indiscriminate and brutal reprisals aimed at quelling the opposition, but instead the West, who became horrified by the brutal regime, began pulling their aid. In the mid-1980s Barre began selling drilling rights to American oil companies. In The Oil Factor in Somalia, reporter Mark Fineman obtained documents that said that 2/3 of Somalia had been allocated among four companies, and that “industry sources said the companies holding the rights to the most promising concessions are hoping that the Bush Administration's decision to send U.S. troops to safeguard aid shipments to Somalia will also help protect their multimillion-dollar investments there (my emphasis).”

Both Chin and Ghori point to oil as the former President Bush’s motivation to send 20,000 troops on a humanitarian mission to Somalia in the last month of his term. When Bush was Reagan’s vice president he spoke of finding alternative oil sources to reduce reliance on politically volatile Mideast oil. Ghori suggests that lame-duck Bush sent the troops to eventually restore Somali leadership sympathetic to the West in order to “lubricate (his sons’) passage into high-stakes politics by obliging his powerful friends.” Conoco, one of the four firms holding the rights, made significant investments in finding oil in Somalia, their decision to do so based on a World Bank assessment that oil was there. Cononco’s investment was significant enough that, according to Fineman, they stayed in Mogadishu through the two-year civil war and allowed their headquarters to be a de facto embassy in the days preceding the arrival of the Marines in December 1992. Throughout the American intervention, Conoco provided logistical and facilitation support to the military’s humanitarian mission. Clearly, oil played a role in the U.S. involvement.

Is it reasonable to believe that Bush had ulterior motives in sending the troops? His coziness with the industry and the odd timing of his actions do seem suspicious. The question is whether Bush, or any administration for that matter, would have committed the troops for wholly humanitarian reasons. In the years before the Soviet collapse, protecting U.S. business interests and humanitarianism could be neatly packaged with anti-communism and made palatable to most Americans. But in those days just after the fall of communism, altruism got trickier. With troops just recently home from Desert Storm, and the economy reeling, a commitment of 20,000 Marines for a humanitarian cause may have struck many Americans concerned with huge budget deficits as excessive. For twelve years Republicans promoted an agenda of pro-business initiatives and reductions in domestic social programs. For Bush to stem that tide with a single act would be out of character. While I believe it’s possible for America to commit selfless acts of humanity, the 1992 situation in Somalia was not one of those times.

In summary, the movie was not consciously racist, but American viewers should certainly reflect on their feelings after seeing the film. Aideed, a warrior fighting a civil war, was a bad guy, but not in the absolute way depicted by the film. And, sadly, George Herbert Walker Bush did commit humanitarian troops with an eye on protecting U.S. business interests.

Sources:

Course readings

Bowden, Mark, “Black Hawk Down”, a series of investigative reports appearing in the Philadelphia Inquirer, November 16 – December 14, 1997 http://inquirer.philly.com/packages/somalia/nov16/rang16.asp

CNN Presents Black Hawk Down: A Modern Story of War http://www.cnn.com/CNN/Programs/presents/shows/blackhawk/interactive/the.story/frameset.exclude.html

Harrison, Eric film review Black Hawk Down http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/ae/movies/reviews/1216070.html