Thursday, October 22, 2009

The Taliban ought to remind us that history is reversible

The following was first published in The National on 22 October 2009.

At the end of every year Time magazine names its person of the year. The publication gives the award to “the person or persons who most affected the news and our lives, for good or ill, and embodied what was important about the year”.

The award, with some notable exceptions, is a fairly accurate reflection of what was the most important story of the past year. The obvious choice this year is Barack Obama, but the US president would probably prefer not to receive it – he appears to have had enough trouble dealing with a Nobel Prize. Should the editors at Time decide to spare Mr Obama the headache, there is another, more suitable alternative.

December 2009 will mark the end of the first decade of the 21st century, and it seems appropriate for the magazine to mark the occasion by naming a man of the decade. There is precedent for this. In 1999 the magazine named a man of the century, Albert Einstein. But it should have been Adolf Hitler for demonstrating the awful potential of the most important political force of the modern age: nationalism.

Time chose science rather than politics as the defining characteristic of the century. But politics, man’s relationship with other men, more accurately reflects the state of mankind, not his achievements. And nationalism has changed the face of those relationships. Its rise marked the end of the age of empires. No longer is the world controlled by a relatively small group of global behemoths: empires controlling vast swathes of territory encompassing multiple groups of people of various identities. Scientific advances such as the computer, the aeroplane and the mobile phone may have made the world appear smaller, but in many ways it is a much bigger, much more daunting place in which to live.

The postcolonial, post-Cold War world is a far more cluttered place. In many corners of the globe, countries are being divided into smaller pieces and national identity is being more narrowly defined. The process has been often bloody.

There are of course important counter-examples, the United States being the most prominent. China and India also stand out as two populous and diverse but prosperous nation-states, as does what is left of post-Soviet Russia. However, in these countries stability and security are at times strained by violent internal strife, but they are held together by the strength of their respective governments. But, in countries with weak or new governments there is a potential for disaffected groups of people to coalesce into a political force and threaten the existence of a state with violence. Nowhere is this better seen than in the conflict that has taken up the better part of this decade: the war in Afghanistan.

Much of the world is beginning to show signs of recovery after the geopolitical balance of power was upset by the fall of the Soviet Union and before that the end of the imperial age of the 19th and early 20th centuries. New countries are emerging to fill the power vacuum left by the end of the Cold War. But Afghanistan was left out of this process. Or, more appropriately, it regressed.

The insurgency in Iraq ended when people grew tired of vying for control of the nation’s future through violence. They turned to politics instead to settle their grievances. But where the Iraqis had the advantage of a recent memory of a modern state and the collective identity it provides, the majority of Afghans have no experience of modern governance. In fact, more than half of the country is estimated to be under the age of 14 and thus, they have known nothing but near constant conflict. Instead tribal and ethnic identity have supplanted all other forms of identity.

They are certainly not unique in this regard. In many parts of the globe tribal ties and ethnicity are important or, at times, the defining aspects of a state. But the situation in Afghanistan stands out since there has been no modern form of government in the country since the 1970s, and then it dallied with it only briefly.

Afghanistan today is almost a window into the distant past, a Hobbesian world of pre-modernity where life is “nasty, brutish, and short” and a man’s right to another man’s property and life are defined by his ability to take them. And no man better embodies the recent history of Afghanistan than Mullah Omar, the father of the Taliban. He arrived on the scene in the midst of the Afghan civil war, a period of violence where life was literally nasty, brutish, and short, and imposed civic order through the strength of arms. The Taliban are an undeniably abhorrent organisation whose world views are incompatible with modern notions of human rights. But they and their ideological leader Mullah Omar also serve as a warning.

Several centuries of global development have been missed or lost by Afghanistan. In the absence of effective forms of governance and a lack of social and economic development, Afghanistan went backward, quickly. And its decline has had a severe impact on regional and international security. The poisonous effect that the Taliban have had on Pashtun tribal politics has focused and inflamed their nationalist sentiments, which now threatens the stability of Pakistan. Now Pakistan – as Afghanistan became before – is a safe haven for transnational terrorist groups.

But Afghanistan is only the world’s most extreme example. Despite the progress that most of the rest of the world made in the last century and the promise of even more in this one, there remain regions of the globe where our history is their present. And unless these areas are carried into the modern age, history’s bloody heritage has ways of catching up to us.

In support of Hitler’s nomination for man of the century, Elie Wiesel wrote that because of the German leader, “man is defined by what makes him inhuman”. He showed us the horrific potential of man’s hatred.

But Mullah Omar has shown us that man does not really change, and that the relative progress mankind has made in building peaceable civil societies is not irreversible. There is always is a Dark Age lurking somewhere around the corner.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

US must find courage for a knifefight in Afghanistan

The following was first published in The National on October 13, 2009.

Much has been made of the current popularity of a certain book in the Obama White House. Lessons in Disaster blames the American defeat in Vietnam on a failure to establish clear goals for its involvement there, and it appears to be having a marked effect on thinking on Capitol Hill. In particular, the chapter entitled “Never deploy military means in pursuit of indeterminate ends” appears to have frozen a hitherto decisive strategic discussion on the war in Afghanistan.

Divining the influence of the book has captivated the US press, and at least at one press conference the White House has been asked about it. Members of both the current and previous US administrations have been at pains to distinguish the war in Afghanistan from the disaster of Vietnam, with some justification. But one comparison, at least on the US side, is apt: the whys of the war have a habit of being drowned out by the hows as the fighting drags on and victory grows ever more elusive.

But the shift from why to how is also natural, and not necessarily a bad one. In many ways, too much attention on the purpose of the war now threatens defeat. The US invaded Afghanistan to overthrow al Qa’eda in response to the September 11 attacks. The Taliban were only important insofar as they stood in the way of capturing Osama bin Laden. With the architects of the most horrific act of terrorism on US soil in hiding, America became complacent. Neglect of post-war reconstruction efforts and the failure to develop an effective Afghan government allowed the Taliban to regroup and re-insinuate itself into the country. In the eight years since, the Taliban have become the main adversary while al Qa’eda and bin Laden have faded into the background.

Enter General Stanley McChrystal, whose suggestions on a new strategy to reverse the negative trends in Afghanistan are currently under discussion by the Obama administration. The new commander of the US and coalition forces has advised focusing on protecting the population and increasing troop levels, both to accomplish the first goal and speed up the training of Afghan forces. Much like the feted “troop surge” in Iraq, the aim is to employ the principles of counterinsurgency to create a period of relative security which boosts the authority of the central government over the population.

Mr Obama is less receptive to such suggestions than he might once have been. Not only are the lessons of the US military’s last major defeat being digested, but the controversial outcome of the recent Afghan presidential elections has cast doubt on the appropriateness of Gen McChrystal’s advice.

The Afghan government has been a persistent impediment to progress. The controversy surrounding the re-election of Hamid Karzai has only posed an even greater barrier to securing the country and overcoming the Taliban. Whereas once it was only corrupt and ineffective, its basic legitimacy in the eyes of ordinary Afghans is now in question.

Even counterinsurgency’s most ardent advocates admit that military efforts in Afghanistan depend on events in Kabul. The support of the population is crucial. Unless the US, its allies and Karzai’s government become better than the Taliban at earning the trust of the Afghans, any victory will be temporary. And as coalition forces are seen, at best, as guests in the country, the Afghan government has a central role to play in any counterinsurgency plan.

Unfortunately, despite the legitimate medium and long-term concerns the White House has about Gen McChrystal’s new plan, there are few good alternatives. A group led by the vice president, Joe Biden, is advocating another course of action: reduce forces and focus efforts on killing senior al Qa’eda and Taliban leaders. With the success of unmanned drone aircraft assassinations of top targets in remote locations, it is easy to see why this might be a tempting alternative to putting additional American lives in danger. But it would also be a mistake. To do so would let the initial reasons for invading Afghanistan shape the strategy for a war that is no longer about killing members of al Qa’eda. Gen McChrystal’s advice is troubled by concerns about the long-term effectiveness of counterinsurgency, but Mr Biden’s plan promises only short-term gains. If organisations like the Taliban and al Qa’eda have demonstrated anything, it is that their existence does not depend on one man or any group of men.

The choice facing Mr Obama is not easy, but all signs point to his embracing Gen McChrystal’s suggestions – he did, after all, hire the man for his specific expertise on counterinsurgency. But the detractors have made their voices heard and the whys will have to be answered before the US renews its commitment to Afghanistan.

The worry is that every time Mr Obama has justified the war, he has framed it as if September 11 happened yesterday and al Qa’eda presented a clear and present danger to America’s national security. It doesn’t, and continuing to paint it as such has poisoned an urgent debate on the most effective manner to win in Afghanistan. After eight years, the war has only made the world less safe by destabilising both Afghanistan and Pakistan, and the US has a duty to undo what it has done.

In any war, and especially in wars fought by democracies, why you fight is exceedingly important. Mr Obama is concerned that accepting Gen McChrystal’s call for more troops would be his Gulf of Tonkin resolution. And just like Lyndon Johnson, Mr Obama would be forced to stand before the American people and lie, saying he would not commit “American boys to fighting a war that I think ought to be fought by the boys of Asia to help protect their own land”.

He would do well to recall another quote by John Paul Vann, a leading figure in the Vietnam War: “This is a political war and it calls for discrimination in killing. The best weapon for killing would be a knife, but I’m afraid we can’t do it that way. The worst is an airplane. The next worst is artillery. Barring a knife, the best is a rifle – you know who you’re killing.”

The US faces defeat if it retreats to the air against an enemy that must be fought with knives and rifles. And even if knives and rifles do not guarantee victory, America owes it to the Afghan people, and the world, to try.