Nicky Hager and Jon Stephenson’s new book presents compelling evidence that our SAS was responsible for killing at least six Afghan civilians, wounding at least another 15, and handing over a man to be tortured for information. The appearance that we have been systemically lied to about what our soldiers do in our name is intolerable, writes Andrew Geddis

Think of a three-year-old girl. Maybe she’s your daughter. Maybe she’s your niece. Maybe she’s your friend’s child. But think of her.

Now think of her screaming in terror as her mother carries her from her home while helicopters pour 30mm exploding cannon shells into it. Then think of her screams ending as a piece of shrapnel from one of those shells smashes through her skull and kills her.

Nicky Hager and Jon Stephenson’s new book, Hit & Run: The New Zealand SAS in Afghanistan and the meaning of honour, tells us in horrifying detail how this happened in a small Afghanistan farming village called Khak Khuday Dad early on the morning of 22 August, 2010. What sets this story aside from all the other sad, cruel deaths in that country is this small child – Fatima was her name – died because of us. Or, rather, she died because of the plans and actions of soldiers wearing our flag on their shoulders and our Kiwi on their vehicles.

Desperate to locate and punish those men responsible for an ambush that killed Lt Tim O’Donnell – the first New Zealander to die in Afghanistan – our SAS had latched onto a dubious report that three of their suspects were living in two remote villages. On the word of this one paid informant, our SAS planned and led a “joint mission” to “capture or kill” these targets.

Flown in darkness by helicopter to the edge of Khak Khuday Dad, our elite soldiers prepared to raid the house of one of the men they wanted to get. At which point, for reasons that are still uncertain, the US Apache helicopter gunships that accompanied our SAS on their raid began firing their cannons into the village.

And so in Khak Khuday Dad and the nearby Naik village, Fatima and five other civilians died; farmers and schoolteachers whose only offence was to be in a place where our SAS thought there may be men they desperately wanted revenge upon. Four of these lives were wiped out by exploding shells fired by helicopter pilots dispassionately viewing glowing silhouettes through infra-red cameras. Two ended by bullets that strong evidence suggests were fired by SAS snipers. None of the dead were the men our SAS set out to find. None of the dead were armed. None of the dead appear to have done anything except farm their fields and train to teach. One of the dead was a three-year-old girl, just like the one you imagined at the start of this story.

And as our SAS boarded their helicopters to leave the scene some two hours later, they left lying on the ground with no help or care fifteen other injured civilians. Six women. Seven children. Their bodies violated by exploding munitions fired by our allies on a mission our SAS planned, manned and ran in all its aspects.

When did these villagers next see the SAS soldiers who had lead the raid that tore their lives and homes apart? Some 10 days later, when they returned not to help fix that which they had destroyed or heal those that they had harmed, but rather to blow up the villagers’ attempts at rebuilding their damaged houses. Only then was our SAS done with its vengeance on the villages of Khak Khuday Dad and Naik.

These moral crimes – and quite possibly legal crimes, too – form the heart of the charge Hager and Stephenson lay on our collective consciences. (There’s much more described in their book as well, like how our SAS handed over one of their targeted suspects to Afghani authorities knowing he would be tortured, then gratefully received back the intelligence “gathered” from him.) But what compounds these wrongs is their aftermath. For rather than provoking an anguished mea culpa from the politicians and military bosses who oversaw our SAS mission, a systemic effort to cover it up apparently swung into effect.

First, the immediate press release in Afghanistan about the mission did not mention New Zealand’s involvement at all. Then, when news we were a part of it leaked out a year later, the NZ Defence Force released a statement saying that nine “insurgents” had been killed, while any claims of civilian deaths had been investigated and disproven. The NZDF, along with the acting defence minister, have tonight reiterated earlier denials.

Soon after the raid ended, however, the NZDF had concrete evidence that not only had it failed in its objective, but that it had resulted in civilian casualties, rendering its earlier claims a lie. Yet this was allowed to stand uncorrected right up until Maori Television aired John Stephenson’s documentary in 2014 interviewing villagers from Khak Khuday Dad, at which point it was amended to a claim that “no NZ soldier was involved in killing civilians”.

So even as tales of our SAS members’ sacrifices and bravery repeatedly were reported in the media, along with copious details of their part in fighting against the “bad guys”, the full story of their culpability remained buried. The narrative remained one of a noble and professional band of warriors steadfastly doing right in Afghanistan, even as others may fall short.

Now we have good reason to think that, as with all myths about heroes, this image isn’t the full picture. Hager and Stephenson convincingly suggest that our SAS became driven by a desire for revenge for a fellow Kiwi and as a result Fatima and five other innocents died. Then rather than confront this wrong, our SAS’s involvement was deliberately hidden through a series of lies and obfuscations.

Why, then, does any of this matter to us some seven years down the track? It matters first because we don’t yet know the answer to the most important questions: who ordered the US Apache helicopters to fire into Khak Khuday Dad and why? Who fired the sniper shots that appear to have killed two unarmed civilians fleeing the burning village? Those matters require an urgent inquiry, for if it was New Zealand soldiers on the ground who did so, then our SAS actually has directly killed non-combatants. And directly killing non-combatants can be a war crime.

Second, the fact we as a people have been systemically lied to about what our soldiers do in our name is intolerable. Back in 2013, when it was revealed that the Defence Force included investigative journalists on a list of “hostile individuals” that threaten “subversion”, I said this:

If me, or people like me, finding out what it is you are doing in places like Afghanistan mean that the Defence Forces can’t do its job, then you shouldn’t be in those places in the first place. End of story. And if you can’t accept that these are the conditions under which you operate, then you shouldn’t be running the show. End of story.

I say that again now. If our SAS must dissemble and lie by omission or commission to those for whom they fight, then it should not be fighting. If military leaders and their political masters are complicit in those lies, then we should follow the German example and require their resignations.

For at a time when our defence forces are asking us to give them some $20 billion from the public purse to upgrade their equipment, it is incumbent on them to prove to us that they deserve it. And the first step they must take in doing so is showing that we can trust them to tell us just what it is that they do in our name.

Nicky Hager and Jon Stephenson have just published Hit & Run: The New Zealand SAS in Afghanistan and the meaning of honour, which they say ‘tells the story of a dark and guilty secret of New Zealand’s recent history’, and makes the case that six civilians were killed and 15 wounded in an SAS operation.

Below is the Q&A they have issued to media. Beneath that, the NZ Defence Force response, issued at 8.25pm. More comment, analysis and response to follow.

What, where, when, and who?

The events in the book occurred in 2010, mainly in an isolated and mountainous area of Baghlan province known as Tirgiran valley, about 50 kilometres across country from the then-Kiwi base in neighbouring Bamiyan province. New Zealand SAS troopers, supported by Afghan commandos and US helicopters, raided two villages in the valley early in the morning on 22 August 2010. The SAS believed, based on flimsy intelligence, that they would find a group of Taliban fighters who’d attacked a New Zealand patrol 19 days earlier. But the group wasn’t there, and the 21 people killed and wounded in the operation were all civilians – mostly women and children. The campaign continued over the following two years.

How do you know 21 people were wounded or died?

The book contains details of each person: their name and family connections, and injuries, as well as details of precisely where they were when they were wounded or killed. These names have been officially confirmed by the district governor and by numerous other sources; they were all civilians. Each name on the list has a human story: the recently graduated school teacher home on holiday who was killed behind his parents’ house; the three-year-old girl killed by exploding munitions as her mother was trying to carry her to safety; the farmer who lay without medical assistance for nine hours, with a piece of shrapnel lodged in his body, before he died. (See chapter 4)

The New Zealand Defence Force has claimed on multiple occasions that only insurgents were killed in this raid. Is this possible?

No. The defence force knew very soon after the raid that none of the fighters they were targeting had been found during the raid. The claims about killing insurgents, made then and later, were simply false. Indeed, within a day of the raid, an Afghan informer gave our defence force video footage that had been taken on a  mobile phone showing the whole insurgent group arriving alive and well at the funerals for the dead villagers. (See chapter 5). It was common in Afghanistan for US-led forces to claim that civilians killed during military operations were “dead insurgents”.

Who is responsible for the events described in the book?

Most of all, people in the SAS. They gathered the intelligence, planned the raid and commanded and led the operation. The authors believe that the deaths and injuries of 21 civilians, the destruction of homes, and the beating and torture of a detainee were due in large part to their actions and inactions, and that they led the efforts to keep it quiet afterwards. Next there are officers in the defence force who were responsible for overseeing the SAS and who should have investigated more responsibly when news of civilian casualties emerged. This includes the then-chief of defence force Lieutenant-General Jerry Mateparae, who was in Afghanistan at the time, and who watched on the screens at the SAS operations room in Kabul as the operation unfolded. Then there are the political leaders. Most government decisions are made by individual ministers or by Cabinet as a whole. However in this case, as Chapter 2 describes, the prime minister John Key was briefed by phone from the SAS compound in Kabul and personally gave his approval for the raid.

How did you get the information for the book?

This book would not have been possible without the assistance of present and former New Zealand, Afghan and US military personnel, who spoke to the authors on the condition that their names and identities would not be revealed. These interviews allowed the facts gradually to be assembled and cross-checked. At the same time, people from the Afghan villages that were raided assisted enormously, describing in detail what they experienced and where and when each part of the event occurred.

Why should New Zealanders care?

New Zealanders were told that their military was in Afghanistan to bring peace and reconstruction and that they treated the locals with empathy and respect. But when a New Zealander died in the attack on a New Zealand patrol, our military response was reckless: innocent people were killed and wounded, houses were blown up or burnt down, and our soldiers did nothing to check on or assist the wounded. All this happened in New Zealand’s name, in an operation commanded by New Zealanders, by people whose salaries are paid for by the New Zealand public. Our soldiers’ actions, and those of their US allies, alienated locals and led many to join or support the insurgents and was a key factor in the Taliban gaining complete control of the area.

Surely bad things happen in all wars?

Even in wars and conflicts, people must behave legally. It is vital for the world that they do, or there would be chaos. This is why we have international agreements like the Geneva Conventions and the Convention Against Torture which New Zealand has signed and is committed to observing. The New Zealand Defence Force prides itself on obeying international law and acting with integrity. Its core values and Code of Conduct lay out the principles and rules. What is seen in this book goes against much of what the New Zealand military stands for.

Is this book an attack on the troops?

Not at all. Many people in our defence force will be appalled by what is revealed in the book. It was kept secret from most of them as well. Indeed, there would be no book now if there had not been professional New Zealand personnel who were upset with what happened, believed the story needed to be told and helped the authors. Most criticism in the book is reserved for the senior staff and politicians who made the decisions, failed to stop abuses and then, later, when news of the tragedy began to leak out, did nothing about it and joined in the cover up.

Have parts of this story come out before?

Yes. A few of details have emerged in the past, thanks to the efforts of journalists. But the vast majority of the story has remained secret, and what the authors have discovered is much worse than anyone knew. As the book reveals in chapter two, the defence minister at the time, Wayne Mapp, has privately called the raid on Tirgiran “our biggest and most disastrous operation. A fiasco.” (Chapter 2.) But the military decided to keep it all from the public.

Is the SAS responsible for casualties and destruction of property caused by US helicopter gunships or the torture of a detainee by the Afghan secret police?

For a number of reasons, the answer is yes. Under military law, the commander of an operation is responsible for the actions of the subordinate personnel. This was an SAS-led and commanded operation, with a dedicated radio network linking the various New Zealand, Afghan and US components. The SAS collected the intelligence, decided the targets, and led the raid on the ground. That ground commander reported to SAS operations staff at their compound in Kabul. The SAS had requested the use of US helicopters for the operation and were responsible for briefing the pilots. During the operation, US attack helicopters made numerous attacks in two different villages while the SAS commander was present at the scene, yet the SAS on the ground did nothing to help the people caught in the heavy fire. In addition, some of the deaths appear to have been from bullets, not helicopter weapons. An inquiry is needed to determine if any of those deaths were caused by SAS snipers who were reportedly involved in the raid. (See chapters 3 and 4.) Later, when one of the fighters was captured in Kabul, he was beaten by an SAS trooper and handed to the Afghan secret police, where he was tortured. It is not good enough to say that our Afghan allies were responsible for the torture; the SAS knew the people they were handing him to were notorious for mistreating and torturing detainees, yet they transferred him anyway (Chapter 6). When they learnt he had been tortured, they did nothing.

Does the book undermine the safety of the troops by talking about secret SAS operations?

No. And it is very important that “security” isn’t used as an excuse for the military and government to evade responsibility for their decisions and actions. The events in the book occurred when New Zealand was running a military base in Bamiyan province and an SAS contingent in Kabul, but both groups returned to New Zealand several years ago. This is the time to face up to wrongdoing. In fact, international law requires countries to investigate their own breaches, including potential war crimes. The government and military have failed to do this. It’s fallen to others to get the story out.

Are you saying there were war crimes?

War crimes are a highly technical area of law and the authors will leave it to experts to determine whether they have been committed. What we are saying is that there are grounds to suspect that war crimes were committed and it is vitally important that these are taken seriously and investigated in an independent way. We asked human rights lawyer and former Chief Human Rights Commissioner Margaret Bedggood to read the book before it was published and her response is printed on the back cover. She says the alleged actions and decisions described in the book, “if confirmed, would seriously breach international human rights and humanitarian law and could amount to war crimes.”

What do you expect the Defence Force and the government to do in response to the book?

We hope they will order a full and independent inquiry into the raid at Tirgiran and other operations and incidents outlined in the book. We also hope they’ll consider immediately offering an apology and reparations to the affected people in the Afghan villages. What do we expect? Based on their actions to date, there is a chance they may deny and dodge, running the dishonourable line that if anything bad happened – which they won’t admit – it had nothing to do with New Zealand. The whole country will be able to watch how they respond. It will be an important test of the military’s avowed core values: courage, commitment, comradeship and integrity.

Is this all too old to worry about?

Not at all. Things as serious as potential crimes of war fester away, sometimes for decades, until they reach the public and are dealt with. It took six years in this case until enough of the people involved felt ready and willing to help reveal the guilty secrets.

What needs to happen?

First, there needs to be the independent inquiry into all these events, with the power to gather all the relevant information and compel witnesses to appear. Besides the SAS’s own secret reports on their various operations, there may be radio communications and weapon systems video recorded during the raids. There will also be reports and official paperwork relating to the handover of the detainee to the Afghan secret police, and the reports the defence force received describing his torture and interrogation. Finally, there will be defence force and SAS documents showing how much the SAS tried to keep the story secret – even from the rest of the defence force. Chapter 7 documents years of cover-up and it is now time for the SAS and defence force to front up about this.

The government also needs to give the apology and reparations to the villagers. But perhaps most important, there need to to be changes to the SAS and defence force to make what occurred in Afghanistan less likely to happen again. The public should have been told about the SAS action within days of it happening – not years later. The public should not have had to rely on insiders being willing to be whistle blowers. The defence force needs a culture change to be more open to the kind of accountability and democratic control we expect from other government organisations. These issues are explored in Chapter 8.

NZDF RESPONSE TO BOOK

The New Zealand Defence Force stands by the statement it made dated 20 April 2011.

As the 2011 statement says, following the operation, allegations of civilian casualties were made. These were investigated by a joint Afghan Ministry of Defence, Ministry of the Interior and International Security Assistance Force (ISAF) assessment team, in accordance with ISAF procedures.

The investigation concluded that the allegations of civilian casualties were unfounded.

The NZDF does not undertake investigations or inquiries into the actions of forces from other nations.  That was the role of the joint Afghan-ISAF investigation.

The NZDF is confident that New Zealand personnel conducted themselves in accordance with the applicable rules of engagement.

Chris Finalyson:

A spokesperson for acting defence minister Chris Finlayson has said in a statement: “The matter was investigated at the time and I am advised by the New Zealand Defence Force they stand by what they said at the time.”