"Double Tap" is what mobsters do when they put somebody down. One bullet in the heart, one in the head. That way they stay down. It's practically standard operating procedure among hitmen.
Then there's a different, nastier kind of "double tap." Suppose you live in some hill village in western Pakistan, and one of the families nearby has a boy fighting with the Taliban who has come home for a visit, bringing several friends with him. It's worrisome, because you are always hearing American drones overhead — and sure enough, one day there is a terrifying explosion and his house is destroyed.
What do you do now? There was a whole extended family living in that house: children, old folks, a cousin or two. Some of them are probably still alive under the rubble, perhaps badly injured. Do you rush over and help to dig them out? Better not. The Predator or Reaper drone (lovely names) will wait until all the neighbours have gathered round, and then launch a second Hellfire missile onto the site. Double tap.
"These strikes are becoming much more common," Mirza Shahbad Akbar, a Pakistani lawyer who represents the victims of drone strikes, told The Independent newspaper recently. "In the past it used to be a one-off, now and then. Now almost every other attack is a double tap. There is no justification for it."
Stanford University's International Human Rights and Conflict Resolution Clinic and New York University School of Law's Global Justice Clinic have just released a report, based on nine months of research and 130 interviews, which concludes that barely two per cent of the victims of U.S. drone strikes were known militants. That's not to say that everybody else killed or injured was an innocent civilian, but these are definitely not "surgical" strikes.
The best estimate of the number of people killed in U.S. drone strikes over the past eight years comes from the Bureau of Investigative Journalism: between 2,532 and 3,251 dead in Pakistan, Yemen and Somalia. Of those, between 475 and 879 deaths were civilian non-combatants who just happened to be nearby when the Hellfire hit – often because they were trying to rescue survivors from an earlier strike.
The Stanford/New York University study, entitled "Living Under Drones," describes the Bureau of Investigative Journalism's database as "far more reliable than other aggregating sources," based on a far wider range of sources than other comparable studies. And of course there are no official numbers. The U.S. government doesn't even try to count the casualties.
Washington doesn't formally admit that the Central Intelligence Agency is running a remote-control assassination program at all, because it is legally a very doubtful area. At the same time, it strives to reassure the American public that there is almost no "collateral damage": that practically all the victims are "bad guys." Including the 175 children who, according to the Bureau's numbers, have been killed in the strikes.
Let's be honest here: children always get killed in air strikes. When you explode 10 kg (20 lbs) of high explosives on a single target (the standard Hellfire load), there can be nothing surgical about it. The really questionable aspects of the CIA's drone program lie elsewhere.
First, is it legal to make air attacks in a country that you are not at war with? Second, can you distinguish sufficiently between "militants" and civilians living in the same area? And, above all, why are you making double-tap attacks?
The legal question is particularly problematic in Pakistan, where the government has not authorized the United States to carry out attacks. Islamabad tacitly accepts them, but sometimes public opinion forces it to respond vigorously, as when an American missile killed 24 Pakistani soldiers last year. That blunder also highlights the difficulty of distinguishing between "militants" and civilians through the lens of a remote-controlled camera.
It's the double-tap attacks that are truly shameful. Do the controllers really think that the people rushing to rescue the survivors of a first strike are all "militants" too? Or are they just trying to deter people from helping those who were wounded in the first strike? That is certainly the effect of the policy: villagers now often leave the injured survivors of an attack in agony for hours before going to help them, for fear of becoming victims too.
There's no point in telling the military and their masters that this tactic is counter-productive, generating more new "militants" than it kills. The bureaucratic machine doesn't respond to such subtle arguments. There's probably no point in talking about the moral problem of killing innocent people either. But the fact that some fifty countries now have drones should inspire a little reflection about this unwritten change in the rules of engagement.
The latest proud possessor of these weapons is Iran, which has just unveiled a new drone with a range of 2,000 km (1,300 mi), capable of flying over most of the Middle East. If it is really copied from the U.S. drone that Iran captured last year, then it has major air-to-ground capabilities. So what if it starts using those capabilities over, say, Syria, against the rebels that the Syrian government calls "terrorists?"
The US could not really complain (though no doubt it would). What's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander.
Gwynne Dyer is an independent journalist whose articles are published in 45 countries.