The Dilemma of the Kunduz Bombing: How Much Is a Human Life Worth?

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By now, hundreds of people carrying flashlights and oil lamps were searching the wreckage for family members. The Taliban had notified supporters and relatives in about half a dozen villages within a 10-kilometer radius. "They're all dead," Abdul Gafur called out to Bidri Jamala, his neighbor, whom he encountered on his way home. "Only I and a few others survived." The 30-year-old woman lost her husband Mohammed Ali and the oldest of her six children, a boy, at the river. The husband's brother, who could have helped feed her family, also died.

The attorney Karim Popal hasn't lived in Afghanistan for 30 years. He has a legal practice in the northern German city of Bremen -- but the Kunduz bombing incident made him world-famous overnight. He is demanding compensation from the German government for the trauma suffered by Abdul Gafur and for the death of his brother Salam. He wants Berlin to pay Bidri Jamala a pension and to compensate Balkiza, a mother of 10 children from the village of Isa Khel who lost her husband, the construction worker Abdul Bashir, so that her children will have a future.

A few weeks ago, Popal -- who traveled to Kunduz himself -- obtained power of attorney from the 70 families that have been affected so far, for a potential class action lawsuit. But, as Popal claims, the total number is much higher: 173 cases, all of them civilians.

How Much Is a Human Life Worth?

The incident has triggered a bizarre dispute between Germany and Afghanistan over compensation for war dead and the question of who exactly the victims of the Kunduz truck bombing were. At the core of the dispute, however, is a question: How much is a human life worth?

So far, the Afghan government has paid $2,000 to 30 family members whose dead relatives were clearly defined as civilians, according to the government's own standards, as well as $1,000 each to nine other Afghans injured in the air strike. The governor of Kunduz, Mohammed Omar, who is strictly opposed to making any further payments, says: "Do you want to bankroll the Taliban now, as well?"

In the Kunduz case, it will likely be difficult to find common ground between the German sense of justice and Afghan customs. According to the Pashtun code of honor, the Pashtunwali, the family of an offender traditionally offers one of its girls to the aggrieved clan. The girl then spends the rest of her life working as a maid, stripped of her rights, in the house of the victim's family. Blood money is also a respectable form of compensation, as it avoids a vicious circle of revenge.

But after the appearance of the Afghan attorney from Germany in Kunduz, some of the families affected by the air strike now believe that they will soon be set for life. The Germans will have to pay "millions and millions" for his son Amanullah, says Abdul Feroz, a 50-year-old farmer from the village of Isa Kehl, which is also believed to be infiltrated by the Taliban.

The Dust Settled Quickly

While the case almost triggered a government crisis in Germany, the dust settled over the bombing debacle in Afghanistan surprisingly quickly. In contrast, similar tragedies in the south of the country have triggered massive protests against both the government and Western troops. But in Kunduz, only the Taliban was able to use the bombing for its own propaganda purposes. "Here you have the evidence that the Germans have not come here to help, but to kill Muslims," Taliban leader Maulawi Naim told the survivors in the mosque at Yaqob Bai on the day of the funeral. The village of 400 people lost almost one-tenth of its population.

But according to one interpretation of the Koran, a person who helps a thief or profits from stolen goods is also considered a thief -- a notion that also brought shame on the mourners.

The political events in Germany -- the resignation of the former defense minister and the dismissal of the Bundeswehr inspector general -- were met with great astonishment among government officials in Kunduz, where everyone from the governor to the police chief has had nothing but praise for the courage of Colonel Georg Klein, the German soldier who ordered the bombing. "He did the only right thing," they say.

Abdul Malek, the driver of one of the two kidnapped trucks, survived. About three kilometers beyond the Kunduz city limits, says Malek, 25 armed men suddenly appeared. The men, who were not even wearing shoes, "threatened us, saying that they were poor and wanted to take the tanker to their village so that they could tap the gasoline," he says. The men forced the driver, at gunpoint, to drive toward the west, away from the main road. Some of the Taliban sat with the driver in the cab, while the others jogged along behind the truck. When they reached a river and attempted to cross it, the trucks became stuck on a sandbar. The Taliban, furious, began beating Malek, the driver, and killed the driver of the other truck with a shot to the head.

'Bombs Were About to Fall'

According to Malek, Abdul Rahman, a local Taliban leader, appeared at the river, but he soon drove away again in a police pickup his fighters had captured.

Malek reports that about 200 people gathered around the trucks, including about 35 armed Taliban, who guarded the trucks and monitored the distribution of gasoline to the villagers.

"Those people were clearly ordinary farmers from the villages," says Malek, "but many knew the armed Taliban, greeted them by name and thanked them for the gasoline." Malek claims that the Taliban even warned the villagers when the German planes began circling above the tankers at high altitude. "They shouted that the people should move away from the trucks, because bombs were about to fall," says Malek, "but no one wanted to give up the free gasoline."

With contributions from Matthias Gebauer and Enayat Najafizada

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• Part 1: How Much Is a Human Life Worth?
• Part 2: How Much Is a Kunduz Victim Worth?