The Controversial Use of White Phosphorus Shells: Unraveling the Impact

Recent rumblings in the press have cast a glaring, unforgiving spotlight on the use of US-made white phosphorus shells by the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) in a Lebanese village. This was reported to have occurred on October 10th and 11th 2023.

The Washington Post and recent commentary coverage from The Defense Post aren’t just reporting news; they’re sounding the alarm on a matter that’s spinning the world’s moral compass.

Let’s take a closer look.

White Phosphorus: A Fire That Doesn’t Discriminate

Let’s cut through the jargon.

White phosphorus is not your average fire starter.

When this beast meets air, it doesn’t just burn; it obliterates, with temperatures soaring over 1,500 degrees Fahrenheit (or about 815 degrees Celsius).

“People exposed to white phosphorus can suffer respiratory damage, organ failure and other horrific and life-changing injuries, including burns that are extremely difficult to treat and cannot be put out with water,” according to Amnesty International, cited by The Defense Post.

Amnesty International isn’t mincing words either, pointing out the horror show of respiratory torture, organ meltdown, and burns that could send you to the grave with just a 10 percent body hit.

That’s why you don’t just toss white phosphorus around like some carnival act.

Every puff of smoke, every burst of flame has to know its place, steering clear of the innocent and the unarmed.

A Haunting Past and Broken Pledges

Cast your mind back to late 2008 to early 2009 in Gaza, where the skies lit up with the hellfire of white phosphorus.

The world didn’t just watch; it roared in outrage.

Israel, feeling the heat, vowed in 2013 to put an end to this fiery saga.

But here we are, staring down the barrel of déjà vu, with recent strikes suggesting a promise broken and laws of war left flapping in the smoke.

Carnage in Civilians’ Backyards

The Lebanese border town of Dheira didn’t just catch some heat; it caught a nightmare.

We’re talking forests turned to ash, farmlands ravaged, and olive trees – the lifeblood of the locals – up in smoke.

Prime Minister Najib Mikati’s words paint a picture of a scarred and gutted community, telling The Post:

“Israel’s use of the munition has killed civilians and produced irreversible damage to more than 5 million square meters of forests and farmland, in addition to damaging thousands of olive trees.”

The line drawn by the laws of war is clear as day: civilians are off-limits.

It’s about the distinction, about knowing friend from foe, combatant from a bystander.

Any hotshot who thinks they can blur these lines, who reckons they can unleash this beast without a second thought for who’s in the crossfire, is not just breaking some arbitrary rule.

They’re trampling on the very essence of what separates war from wanton slaughter.

They’re turning their backs on the principles that shield humanity from descending into utter barbarism.

War’s a dirty game, but even in the mud, there are rules.

When civilian lives become footnotes in a military strategy, we’ve got to ask ourselves where the line is and who’s manning the gates of humanity.

Moral Quagmire in the Global Arms Bazaar

It’s an uncomfortable truth that the shells scorching Lebanese soil bear the “Made in the USA” stamp.

With American dollars flowing into Israel like a river, the question hangs heavy: Are we, in some twisted way, bankrolling a tragedy?

Peel back the layers, and you’ll find a defense industry with roots so deep and wide that they touch every corner of the globe.

Political power plays, economic juggernauts, and national interests are the puppeteers in a show where the stakes are life and death.

Nevertheless, the US is one of many arms dealers at the fair, alongside the rest in the top five exporters: Russia, France, China, and Germany.

Nations are queuing up to peddle their wares, profits blinding their eyes to the blood on the ground.

It’s a moral swamp, and we’re all knee-deep.

Faces in the Flames

Strip away the politics, and you’ll find people like Uday Abu Sari, a farmer whose land, life, and legacy now lie beneath a blanket of white ash.

As The Post reported, they quoted the farmer as the latter described the grave impact of the use of white phosphorus in their lives following the recent assault, saying:

“Emergency services told us to put something that was soaked in water on our faces, which helped a bit. I couldn’t see my finger in front of my face. The whole village became white.”

These are the stories that don’t just tug at heartstrings; they yank them out.

Following The Post’s publication of the report last month, the State Department has responded and expressed concern, with spokesperson Matthew Miller addressing reporters at a press conference.

Reflections from the Frontline

The tale of white phosphorus and the scars it leaves on Lebanese soil is more than a headline; it’s a mirror reflecting the darkest parts of our world.

As the smoke clears, the questions linger: Where do we go from here, and how do we keep the flames of humanity burning brighter than the fires of war?

As a soldier who’s seen the face of war, I know the story isn’t just about the haves and have-nots, the powerful and the powerless.

It’s about decisions made in rooms far from the battlefield and the price paid in blood and sorrow by those who never asked for the fight.