When Mountains Fall

When the Kashmir earthquake struck nearly a year after a long succession of disasters at home and abroad (Asian tsunami, Hurricane Katrina, etc.) it was just one disaster too many. And this one was too far away, too remote, with no tall buildings, no tourists, no compelling video. But our group of paramedics and doctors wondered if we could do something to help. One phone call led to another.

BACKGROUND
For 50 million years, inch by inch, the Indian subcontinent has pushed up against the Eurasian plate, launching the jagged Himalayas above the mounting tension. On the morning of Saturday, October 8, 2005, most people were home, napping after the pre-dawn Ramadan meal, resting for another day of work and fasting. Then the weight of the earth slammed down and the mountains crashed. The 7.6-magnitude earthquake claimed lives in three countries. Most of the devastation occurred in the area closest to the epicenter in the city of Muzaffarabad, in Pakistan-administered Kashmir.

In a land of towering mountains sheltering slender forest valleys, Kashmir was already one of the most inaccessible places on earth. Divided between India and Pakistan in two wars along a contested dissection known as the Line of Control, the earthquake roughened the landscape further.

Jan Egeland, the United Nations' emergency relief coordinator, says, "We have never had this kind of logistical nightmare, ever. We thought the tsunami was the worst we could get. This is worse."

Entire mountains disappeared, sliding down and coming to rest on the floors of valleys, wiping out roads and telephone lines. In the first days after the earthquake, severe thunderstorms and hailstorms pounded the region, grounding helicopter flights and, for the thousands buried alive, wiping out hope that rescuers could reach them. For the next three weeks, nearly 1,000 aftershocks-many of them large earthquakes in their own right-continued to jolt the area. By that time, however, there was nothing left to destroy. More than 80% of all structures in Kashmir were completely demolished, approximately 90,000 people died, and close to four million were left without shelter for the brutal winter.

In the initial aftermath of the earthquake, separate groups led the local response. The Pakistan military heroically pulled itself from the rubble to save hundreds, while, at the same time, Muslim extremist groups quickly raised their flags under which they set up makeshift shelters and clinics. The government allowed them and other volunteers to continue until humanitarian groups could replace them. While large, slow-moving international agencies like the International Committee of the Red Cross dispatched their assessment teams, other groups were already delivering relief supplies from pre-stocked warehouses. The United States sent helicopters and troops engaged in antiterrorism maneuvers in Afghanistan. In less than 24 hours, search and rescue, as well as medical teams from around the world, landed in Islamabad. No agency wasted time wrestling for command. In the first few days, saving lives came first, no matter who was in charge.

Stakeholders in the Pakistan relief effort created a structure that maximized collaboration between the federal government and the humanitarian community. President Pervez Musharraf appointed a Federal Relief Commission, but coordination was never unilateral. The Commission, in collaboration with the more than 200 United Nations agencies and hundreds of NGOs, drafted a bold National Response Plan, which organized 10 "clusters." The clusters were not intended to command NGO efforts, but rather to encourage and set standards for facilitating rescue, relief and reconstruction. Each cluster was co-chaired by the international humanitarian agency and the Pakistani government ministry best suited to carry out the cluster's mandate. Gathering all agencies and groups working in a specific field, the clusters aimed to share information, prevent duplication of efforts and strengthen communications between agencies' headquarters and operatives in the field. The National Response Plan had only one absolute: maximum flexibility for the greatest positive impact.