Afghanistan - Part I

“Afghanistan is not a nation, it is a collection of tribes.”

I am always amazed when I fly into Afghanistan from the former Soviet Republics to the north. It is a study in stark contrasts; modern networks of highways, rail lines, and power grids crisscross fertile farm fields north of the Amu Darya River that marks the border. South of the river there is no infrastructure of any kind. At night, the contrast is even more startling; there is a sea of lights from towns and villages to the north, but a gulf of darkness stretches as far south as the eye can see. It is almost like flying off the edge of the earth.

And that is why Afghanistan is the biggest challenge facing us today. We do not want to leave behind a broken nation when the last of our troops leave. But Afghanistan is really a nation in name only.

Its population of Pashtuns, Tajiks, Hazaras, Uzbeks, Aimaks, Turkmen, and other ethnic groups still live in the same tribal societies that have prevailed in this barren and mountainous land since the dawn of time. Dozens of languages further divide its people. The tribes are fiercely protective of their territories and do not take lightly to each other, much less Americans. There are no resources to speak of and the only crop that can be grown in its poor soil is opium poppies. The only roads that connect its major cities are unpaved strips of gravel and dust on which travelers must be wary of precipitous dropoffs, washed out bridges, and bandits. Afghanistan is the land that time forgot.

Afghanistan has seen more than its share of warfare through the ages. It has defined its people. The Mongols, British, Soviets, and Americans have all come to this backwater land for various reasons. While the Afghan warriors have a formidable and well-deserved reputation for their prowess in battle, the myth of Afghanistan being the graveyard of empires is not entirely accurate.

British losses at the end of the First Anglo-Afghan war were the result of inadequate occupation forces – they were lulled into complacency and paid a heavy price. As long as the British maintained proper force levels, Afghanistan was fairly calm under Anglo rule. Following the Second Anglo-Afghan War, a fragile peace held for 40 years. After British troops were recalled to fight in Europe during WWI, restive warlords stirred up trouble once again that led to the Third Anglo-Afghan War and eventual independence. The British won all three wars, but in the end, they decided it just wasn’t worth it.

The Soviet foray into Afghanistan was a much different picture. The Afghan tribes united against the Soviets, backed with funding and weapons from the United States, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan, and other countries. At the beginning of hostilities, the Afghans were hopelessly outgunned, with many Afghans carrying WWI-era Enfield rifles into battle. Faced with increasing resistance, skyrocketing costs and budget shortfalls, and inadequate military doctrine, the Soviets tried to shore up the pro-Soviet government and pulled out in 1989.

Now it is our turn. After years of civil war and Taliban rule, we have inherited a mess in Afghanistan. The Taliban government crumbled quickly before our onslaught and Al Qaeda fled to Pakistan, leaving us trying to put the pieces of the country back together. Until we withdrew the majority of our troops in late 2002 and 2003 to fight the war against Iraq, things were actually somewhat stable. But as time progressed, the natives grew restless. We are now facing increased Taliban activity in most of Afghanistan’s 34 provinces. In addition, we have lost much of our support in Central Asia and a highly unstable Pakistan threatens to further hinder our access to Afghanistan.

But we have read the Afghan’s playbook; it is required reading for the Marine Corps Officers’ Course. We know how they fight. We know their strengths and weaknesses. We are more than capable of countering their moves. As long as we have the proper force levels, we can put down any uprising from the Taliban or any other ethnic tribe trying to destabilize the fledgling democracy taking hold in Kabul. But that won’t win the war. We could be there 100 years, and as soon as we leave, it’ll devolve back into hell on earth. That much is evident from the British experience.

How do we create a lasting infrastructure that will endure long after we have left? Can we really create a nation where one has never really existed? And perhaps Afghanistan is the least of our worries in Central Asia. What do we do about Pakistan? Great Britain’s Great Game is a never ending game; it just has different players. How do we win a game that never ends?