International humanitarian law is unequivocal: deliberately
attacking civilian objects indispensable to the survival of the
civilian population constitutes a war crime. Electricity
generation and distribution systems fall squarely within this
protection when they serve civilian needs such as water
supply, sanitation, healthcare, and heating.
Yet modern history reveals a stark inconsistency in how this
law is applied, enforced, and—crucially—reported.
Iraq 1991: Destruction of a Civilian Lifeline
During the 1991 Gulf War, coalition forces led by the United
States conducted a systematic campaign against Iraq’s
electricity infrastructure. Human Rights Watch documented
that approximately 85% of Iraq’s electricity-generation
capacity was destroyed, leaving only two of the country’s
twenty power plants operational and producing less than 4%
of pre-war output, which had stood at roughly 9,000
megawatts.
This was not incidental damage. Electricity was targeted
because of its cascading effects on civilian life: water
treatment, sewage systems, hospitals, refrigeration, and food
supply chains all depend on reliable power. The
foreseeable—and foreseen—result was a humanitarian
catastrophe.
The Legal Framework: Clear and Binding
The legal prohibition is set out most clearly in Additional
Protocol I (1977) to the Geneva Conventions, reflecting
customary international humanitarian law:
Article 52 limits lawful attacks to military objectives and
explicitly protects civilian objects.
Article 54 prohibits attacking, destroying, or rendering
useless objects indispensable to the survival of the
civilian population, including infrastructure necessary for
water, food, and health.
Electricity infrastructure serving civilians qualifies under both
provisions. Even where dual-use arguments are advanced, the
law requires strict proportionality and constant care to spare
civilians. The scale and duration of the destruction in Iraq
cannot plausibly be reconciled with these obligations.
The Blockade: From Damage to Collective Punishment
The illegality did not end with the bombing campaign. The
comprehensive sanctions regime imposed on Iraq between
1991 and 2003 made it impossible to import spare parts
needed to repair power plants and transmission networks.
Iraqi engineers had the expertise to restore the system but
were legally barred from doing so.
This prolonged deprivation transformed initial attacks into
sustained harm, raising serious questions under international
law about collective punishment and inhuman treatment of
civilians—both prohibited under the Fourth Geneva
Convention. No neighbouring state was permitted to supply
electricity. The civilian population endured more than a
decade of predictable suffering as a direct consequence of
policy choices.
Ukraine Today: Same Law, Different Response
Since 2022—and continuing into 2025—attacks on Ukraine’s
electricity infrastructure have rightly been described by
Western governments and media as potential war crimes. The
legal assessment is correct. The law applies.
But the contrast with Iraq is revealing.
First, a substantial portion of Ukraine’s generation
capacity—particularly nuclear plants—has not been attacked.
Second, Ukraine has received extensive international
assistance, including generators, spare parts, and emergency
repair equipment. Third, Ukraine is integrated into
neighbouring electricity grids, allowing imports that mitigate
civilian harm.
None of these mitigating factors existed for Iraq.
Media and Moral Selectivity
British media now regularly highlight the suffering of
Ukrainian civilians without heat, water, or electricity—and
rightly so. Yet during the twelve years in which Iraqi civilians
endured similar or worse conditions, there was near-silence.
The crime was not unnamed; it was unacknowledged.
This disparity cannot be explained by ignorance of the law.
The Geneva Conventions did not change between 1991 and
today. What changed was whose suffering counted and who
was responsible.
International Law as Instrument, Not Principle
The lesson is uncomfortable but unavoidable: international
law, as applied by powerful states, has often functioned as an
instrument rather than a constraint. Violations are condemned
when committed by adversaries and normalised—or
erased—when committed by allies.
For much of the Global South, this reality has long been
understood. The recent shock expressed in Western capitals
when international law is violated by geopolitical rivals rings
hollow to those who remember Iraq.
If attacks on electricity infrastructure are war crimes today,
they were war crimes in 1991. Law does not acquire meaning
retroactively, nor does it depend on the identity of the
perpetrator. Either civilian protection is universal, or it is
merely rhetorical.
Abdul-Haq Al-Ani