Felicity Arbuthnot is a London-based journalist specialising in social and environmental issues. She is Middle East correspondent for the (Catholic) Universe and a nominee for the 1998 Lorenzo Natali Award for Human Rights Journalism for coverage of Iraq.

In beautiful, relentlessly battered Basra, Iraq's second city, founded in the mists of time, where the Tigris and Euphrates meet at Shat Al Arab, Iraq's plight under sanctions and recent history are encapsulated. Towering bronze figures line the waterfront, heroes of the Iran/Iraq war, each with right arm extended towards Iran, forefinger pointing accusingly. Damage from that eight-year onslaught, whose losses have been compared to World War I, is everywhere. Added to it, the devastation from the Gulf war, barely three years later, and the toll of the four-day bombardment last December by the US and UK. "We have a saying that if there was a war between France and Germany, Basra would be bombed," said a resident wryly.

Cancer, leukemias, and malignancies have risen up to 70% since the Gulf war, increases linked to the depleted uranium (DU) weapons used primarily by the US and UK, leaving a radioactive dust throughout the country, which according to experts has entered the food chain via the water table and soil. Starvation, multiple congenital abnormalities, cancers, heart defects, leprosy, waterborne diseases-death stalks Basra's children from the moment of birth.

Iraq's child mortality will surely go down in history as one of the great crimes of the 20th century, along with the Holocaust, the bombing of Dresden, and the excesses of Pol Pot. "Between 6000 and 7000 children under five are dying each month of embargo-related causes," states Denis Halliday, a former Under Secretary General of the UN, who resigned last July as UN Humanitarian Coordinator in Iraq, in protest of "the destruction of an entire nation."

The unimaginable can also be found in Basra. One doctor's thesis compares abnormalities since the Gulf war with Hiroshima. Dr. Jenan Ali has recorded them all. Photographs for 1998 showed full term babies undeveloped, the "bunch of grapes" syndrome reminiscent of the Pacific islands after the 1950's nuclear testing. Others-no face, no eyes, twisted limbs, no limbs, no brain.

"If you are not prone to fainting, I will show you a baby born an hour ago," said Dr. Jenan. The tiny being made small bleating noises. It had no genitalia, no eyes, nose, tongue, esophagus, or hands. Twisted legs were joined by a thick "web" of flesh from the knees. "We see many similar," said the doctor. Vegetation in the area shows up to 84 times background radiation.

The rise in cleft lip and palette is striking: "We used to see cleft palette only rarely, I have two operating sessions a week and on average now there are two in each. One family had three daughters all with both cleft lip and palette; the parents begged me to operate on them all in the same day-they had no money for fares to return," remarked facio-maxillary surgeon Dr. Mustafa Ali, who had worked in Edinburgh, Glasgow, and Dundee, returning to Iraq as the Iran/Iraq war began, honing his skills on unimaginable injuries. But even that pales compared to life after nine years of sanctions.

"There are children whose parents have just the fare to come for surgery. When they arrive we have no oxygen, no anaesthetic-so they go away and never return."

In a nearby village, where tiny children play in the sewage and poverty is endemic, we found two-year-old Widyan ("valley between two mountains"). His mother had fled, mindless, and he was being nurtured by his grandmother in a spotless house without even one item of furniture. Paralyzed, arms foreshortened, legs deformed, breathing agonized. In the face of a frail pixie, just the eyes moved, watching, alert. Dr. Faisal at Basra General Hospital felt he would not survive another year. There are common denominators amongst the deformities, wherever they are found, say experts. Either the families live in areas heavily bombarded during the Gulf war, or the fathers were in the army in bombarded areas.

25% of all babies are now born prematurely or of premature weight, due to malnutrition and/or environmental factors. No incubators work at optimum capacity, there is no oxygen, gastro-nasal feeding, no rehydration or hygiene-even disinfectant is vetoed by the UN Sanctions Committee. In the premature unit were 17 babies. "We have not had one premature baby survive since 1994," said the doctor. I noted each face on 17 fledgling lives, all almost certainly by now another embargo-related statistic.

As we left, Dr. Ali asked, "What will we do if we are bombed again-how can we respond to the casualties?" We headed north on the Basra road-synonymous with the carnage of General Norman Schwartzkopf's "turkey shoot." Burned-out vehicles still remain, lasting reminder of unimaginable horror. It was Sunday night. Basra was bombed at 9:30 the following morning.

Basra has a memorial to Iraqi Airways. It reads, "Iraqi Airways, 1947-1990." It could be a metaphor for Iraq, for the Rights of the Child, and the 7000 under-fives a month who have not "failed to comply with United Nations resolutions."