Shell Game

Back when I was flying the C-141 Starlifter, flying a mission for the air force was much less complex. When I left home station, we typically kept the same jet the entire trip. Crew rest between flights was dependable, we always had hot meals, and we could leave some of our professional gear on the aircraft instead of taking everything with us once we landed. There were times when we’d change jets in the middle of a mission, but it was quite rare.

In the C-17 Globemaster III, however, the opposite is true. It is a rare event when a crew keeps the same aircraft for an entire mission, especially those transiting the Sandbox. When we land at the end of our day, we have to haul everything we have with us and we are often on call for hours waiting for a jet to arrive so we can pick up the mission.

The concept of the airlift stage is simple in theory; the jets keep moving after a crew change at an en route location. That way, cargo and troops reach their destination with little delay. It requires significant coordination at the local and global level, as well as “seed” crews to ensure that a fresh crew is available at any given time. To do so, we are often placed in a bravo status, in which we are placed on a standby alert. Since we are never sure when the phone will ring, I find that I am never well-rested, since we must be ready essentially at any given time.

Furthermore, when C-17s depart stateside bases, they are flown by crews stationed at the same base. However, since any crew can fly any jet from any base once in the system, sometimes a crew from a West Coast base ends up arriving stateside with a jet based on the East Coast (or vice versa). The stage manager, the local representative responsible for the stage at a given base, attempts to pair up jets returning stateside with crews from the same bases, but sometimes it doesn’t work out. Like the victim of a shell game, the losing crew ends up at a base on the opposite coast with no ride home.

As luck would have it, we took off from Spain for an East Coast base with an East Coast jet. Originally, we would have returned to Germany following our stop in the Sandbox and probably would have been paired up with a jet from our home base. However, due to weekend operating hours at several European bases, we were flying back across the Atlantic with the wrong jet.

We arrived stateside in sunny South Carolina and immediately set out trying to find a ride back to the Pacific Northwest. The ramp in Charleston was full of C-17s, but unfortunately we couldn’t fly any of them. We decided to wait a few days in case one of our aircraft came through, but it was soon apparent that we’d be dragging our bags and gear home with a civilian airline.

So after two days of fun and sun in Charleston, we booked a flight to Seattle with a stopover at Atlanta. Usually, flying commercial from Charleston meant a cramped flight in a puddle jumper, but we lucked out with a Super 80, an older model full-sized aircraft. The hardest part of flying commercial with all of our military gear is merely checking in and processing through the TSA screening. Between the five of us on the crew, we probably had 20 bags, and we were booked on a one-way flight – a typical red flag for additional screening. But once we checked in our bags and endured the TSA’s additional scrutiny, it was smooth sailing.

It was worth the hassle; we were going home.

A New Pin in the Map

After departing Iraqi airspace, we turned west over Turkey and settled in for the long flight to Spain. I had been to Spain many times before, yet the base we were flying to was a new destination for me, surprisingly enough since it is a regular stop for AMC aircraft. In all the years of flying I’ve accumulated, I’ve only had one other chance to stop there; as a brand new co-pilot in the C-141 Starlifter many years ago, we were flying from Turkey to Spain and diverted into Sicily after an engine failure. Now the loop looked like it was finally coming closed. I would be putting a new pin in the map.

The base on the coast of Spain had a reputation for sun and fun. Miles of beaches and streets lined with tapas bars and cafes made for a great crew rest location; I could already practically taste the sangria. It wouldn’t be a long crew rest, but we’d be there early in the morning, enough time for a run and perhaps some quality beach time.

The mountains of southern Turkey passed beneath us, their crowns dusted with heavy snow. Winter precipitation is not unusual in Turkey, but it was early May, usually a great time to hit the beaches of the nearby Turkish Riviera. Yet snowfall was visible all across southern and southwestern Turkey, and not just in the higher elevations. As we left Turkey behind and flew the length of the Greek island of Rhodes, I noticed what looked to be snow covered peaks in the distance ahead; even the peaks of Crete were painted white in the wake of a late season storm.

Hours later, we arrived in Spanish airspace and started our descent for our much needed crew rest. But it looked like the weather would not cooperate. Low clouds and heavy rain blanketed Spain’s Atlantic coastline. And since it was a weekend, the most precise instrument approach at the airfield, a controller-guided PAR, was not available. We’d have to fly a full procedure non-precision circling approach down to minimums just to land. We thought about diverting to another Spanish airbase, but the weather was just good enough for one approach.

We finally broke out of the weather as we began the approach but a strong and steady crosswind made for a challenging landing. As we taxied clear of the runway, we saw that the base had been practically flooded. Puddles of water and broken tree limbs marked the passage of a powerful storm that had just passed through. It was still gusty and quite cool, so spending the day at the beach was looking doubtful.

But at least I finally had a new pin on the map.

Gas & Go

Our mission following our short crew rest at a Persian Gulf airbase was a planned seven hour flight to an American airbase in Spain, instead of Germany as originally scheduled. It was a Sunday, and quiet hours at German bases prohibit takeoffs and landings until the afternoon so as not to disturb Sunday church services in the devout regions of southwest Germany. Our mission had to move as soon as possible for diplomatic reasons - they wanted our persona non grata out of the country immediately - so we refiled our flightplan to Spain.

However, since we carried a full load of cargo on an older jet with a limited fuel capacity, we would be unable to make it without refueling somewhere in between. Our flight dispatcher checked all the usual suspects – American bases in Italy and Greece – but long lead times for diplomatic clearances or airfield closure times (it was a weekend) prevented us from stopping. The American airbase in Turkey has severe restrictions about which jets can land there, so that was out of the question as well. And getting a tanker for an aerial refueling would take a miracle, given their poor maintenance reliability and high usage rates for other missions. We had to think outside of the box for a solution.

Unfortunately, none of the locations we preferred, such as Romania, would work. But the dispatcher found one that would.

Baghdad.

The thought of taking a $200 million dollar aircraft full of cargo into a combat zone for no other reason than a fuel stop did not sit well, especially since personnel at the American airbase in Greece were enjoying a weekend off (I was shocked that anybody in the military gets weekends off in a war). But there was no other choice. So like good airmen we took off for a gas and go at Baghdad International Airport.

But it would fortunately still be night when we arrived, and our aircraft was protected by the latest countermeasures for man-portable surface-to-air missiles. We descended into the murky night toward the Iraqi capital city and made an uneventful approach and landing. We didn’t need much fuel, maybe 40,000 pounds, so we quickly topped off the tank and were on our way before sunrise. We leveled off over northern Iraq and enjoyed a brilliant sunrise over the mountains of nearby Iran.

We were now leaving the war behind and heading home.

The Great Game

In 1882, the young British writer Rudyard Kipling moved to Lahore, British India (now Pakistan) where he worked as a military correspondent covering the British experience on the northwest frontier. The Second Anglo-Afghan War had just ended two years prior to his return to India (he was born in Bombay), yet the British involvement in Afghanistan greatly influenced his writings during his seven-year tenure in Lahore and Allahabad. A keen observer of the strategic contest between the British and the Russian Empire, Kipling wrote extensively about the rivalry known as The Great Game in many of his works, especially his defining masterpiece Kim. Although the term ‘The Great Game’ has its origins long before Kipling’s day, it was Kipling who introduced its usage to popular culture.

The Great Game refers to the political and military rivalry between Britain and Russia in Central Asia from 1813 to the early 20th Century. Imperial Russia was expanding southward, incorporating the region just north of Afghanistan which today makes up Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan. The British felt that Russia’s interest in the area threatened its own interests in India, and the two empires soon found themselves in a subtle game of imperialistic diplomacy and militarism that never materialized into direct warfare between the two sides. Located between Russian Uzbekistan and British India, Afghanistan became the chessboard between the two sides, each rallying local support and proxies to counter the other.

Britain’s role in The Great Game came to an end with Afghanistan’s independence in 1919, but Russia’s interest in Afghanistan continued. Russia has always viewed Central Asia as its backyard, a view which culminated in its 1979 invasion of Afghanistan. Russia today remains concerned about its dominance in Central Asia, and especially about American involvement in Afghanistan. Moscow believes that we have resumed the British role in The Great Game, even though we have been unwillingly thrust into the game by the events of 9/11. Russia and other nations remain suspect of our long-range intentions in Afghanistan.

China has also increasingly become interested in Central Asia, but for different reasons than Russia. Following the First Gulf War, the Chinese were alarmed at the rapid dismantling of Iraq’s defenses, and especially with the vulnerability of Iraq’s infrastructure to precision aerial attacks. The Chinese knew that it they ever faced the U.S. in warfare, its infrastructure would similarly be targeted. At great expense, they moved much of their command and control facilities and vulnerable infrastructure farther inland, out of range from Tomahawk cruise missiles and carrier strike aircraft, as well as USAF aircraft based in Japan and other Pacific Rim bases. However, with the US presence in Afghanistan, the Chinese are now concerned about the proximity of their facilities in far western China to US bases in Afghanistan and other locations in the region.

China has worked diligently in Central Asia to counter the American presence. In concert with Russia and the five northern Stans – Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Tajikistan, and Kyrgyzstan – the Chinese have forced the closure of key support airfields in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan and Karshi-Khanabad, Uzbekistan, as well as a critical refueling stop in Ashgabat, Turkmenistan. With the loss of almost all northern air access routes into Afghanistan, we now have sole access to Afghanistan across Pakistan. If the somewhat American-friendly government in Islamabad falls, we will lose Afghanistan, despite any progress we may see there. If we cannot fly in vital supplies to the land-locked country, or ship them overland from the port of Karachi, we will lose.

I doubt that is the result either Beijing or Moscow really want, much less the capitals of the five Stans. If we fail in Afghanistan, it will become their problem, and they don’t seem to be willing or able to combat the threat an unstable Afghanistan poses. Heroin and Islamic extremism will flow unchecked as if through a sieve into the Stans and onward to Russia and China as well. China is already facing an Islamic insurgency in its Xinjiang region in western China, which will only grow stronger. Instability in the Stans should be a great concern to Moscow, since unchecked poverty and a lack of economic growth will create an emerging recruiting market for the jihadists. And since international borders are routinely ignored by those groups seeking a global caliphate, Russia will see greater unrest in its own southern regions.

Russia may be on the verge of checkmating us in the New Great Game, but in the end Russia may lose as well. If they don’t realize that America has no long-range goals in Central Asia other than the eradication of extremism, then the world will see that when it comes to playing games with imperialistic diplomacy and militarism, there truly are no winners.

Afghanistan - Part II

Maybe the British were on to something; after more than eight decades of intervention in Afghanistan, the last of their soldiers marched through the Khyber Pass into British India in 1919, leaving Afghanistan to fend for itself. Even though the British won all three wars they fought with the Afghans, they finally decided enough was enough. The only reason the British were ostensibly in Afghanistan in the first place was to check the ambitions of the Russian Empire to the north. And Russian designs toward Afghanistan wouldn’t be realized for another 60 years.

So what would happen if, after our brief nine years’ stay in Afghanistan, we decided to go the way of the British?

Plenty. Afghanistan’s government is woefully unprepared to lead its cities, much less the country as a whole. Corruption and internal strife are rampant, its police and military forces cannot guarantee adequate security, there is no infrastructure to speak of, it has no control over the flow of narcotics, and President Karzai has virtually no legitimacy among his people even though he won his last election. In addition, the Taliban are enjoying resurgence in both military strength and increased acceptance by the people, especially the majority Pashtuns. The government is often more feared by ordinary Afghans than the Taliban in some areas.

But how can we afford to stay? How long could it take to stabilize something as broken as Afghanistan?

Therein lies the rub. We don’t have enough troops to maintain security in a largely mountainous country the size of Texas; to compensate for insufficient manpower, we have resorted to using aerial strikes, which can be imprecise and indiscriminate when trying to maintain security. (It’s hard to make friends and influence people when you’ve just blown up the wrong house). We haven’t properly trained the locals to take over either, since our special operations soldiers are up in the mountains going after Taliban and Al Qaeda fighters, who often enjoy sanctuary across the Durand Line in Pakistan. Iran is meddling with Afghanistan’s internal matters as well. Our work is cut out for us.

Nation building is an integral aspect of our national security objectives. Ungoverned territory is extremely dangerous to the interests of the industrialized world. Look at what has become of Somalia, yet the world’s navies are nearly impotent in halting the piracy running rampant in the Gulf of Aden and Indian Ocean. We can no longer tolerate lawlessness and chaos in these forgotten lands. If we do, then we’d better be prepared for another 9/11; the next horrific attack will originate from the minds of zealots safely ensconced in these lawless lands.

We have to redouble our efforts to get Afghanistan up on its feet. It will never be a beacon of light in Central Asia, but as long as it can hold its own against its neighbors and force the local warlords to bow to Kabul’s rule, then we might have a chance to leave with our heads held high. If legitimacy and security are the keystones to successful government, we must entice the Afghans to institute significant reform of its institutions, starting from the top down. We must adequately train police and military forces to do their jobs as well, since without security, the country can never experience capital investment from the world – paved highways, power lines, pipelines, perhaps even railroads – that are so desperately needed to form the framework of a nation. Only then can we enable the Afghans to conduct successful counterinsurgency operations that will root out those who are impeding the reconstruction.

There are those who would stop us though, and they are growing in power every day that we do nothing. First and foremost, we must defang the Taliban. As loathed as they are for providing sanctuary to Al Qaeda before and after 9/11, we must remember that they are not directly responsible for the attacks. They have paid a high price for their indirect participation. In Afghanistan, it is common practice that once an Afghan provides shelter for an outsider, he must defend him from all harm; the Taliban just made a bad choice in sheltering those responsible. If we can bring the Taliban to the peace table and perhaps offer them some say in the future of Afghanistan, then we may see a dramatic decrease in violence in Afghanistan. If we make that offer contingent on the Taliban parting ways with their old houseguests, Al Qaeda, then we may further alienate Al Qaeda’s radical ideology from the Main Street of Islam.

The other troubling aspect to overcome is the reluctance of the various tribes and local warlords to accept national sovereignty. Filled with centuries of hatred for each other, they are not eager to find common ground in Kabul. Furthermore, their concepts of blood feuds, subservient status for women, and other issues complicate the creation of a cohesive nation. Unfortunately, this aspect may be impossible to overcome.

We have to be prepared for a long struggle. The goal posts will seem to move away from us as we painfully advance yard by yard. But we cannot drop the ball if we want to win the game. A turnover in today’s Great Game in Afghanistan could spell disaster, not only for Afghanistan, but also for our own national security as well.

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?

Iraq

For all its problems, Iraq is probably an easier fix than Afghanistan, so I’ll tackle it first. While it seems that we are on the verge of snatching defeat from the jaws of victory, there is a glimmer of hope that we are about to turn a corner there. From record turnouts in national elections to fractures between foreign jihadists and their fellow Iraqi insurgents, we may be closer to success than the media has been reporting. And it has little to do with the surges so unpalatable to an increasing number of the American public.

Iraq is really three nations in one: Shiite, Sunni, and Kurdish. Throughout its history, however, it has been ruled by Mongols, Persians, Ottomans, and ultimately the British before Iraq was granted independence in 1932. The Ottomans and the British governed the three regions through a semi-autonomous system, with Baghdad as an administrative capital. Under the Hashemite monarchy and the Baath party, Iraq has been ruled by a strong single-ruler system governing Iraq as a whole rather than three regions.

I personally do not think we should have invaded Iraq in 2003 in the first place. While Operations NORTHERN and SOUTHERN WATCH were an expensive means to contain Saddam’s Iraq, the price tag for those operations pale in comparison to the price of IRAQI FREEDOM and its aftermath. During the military buildup before the impending invasion, I thought it was just American saber rattling taken to the next level. The case for war laid down by the previous administration was specious at best and I was shocked that so many of the American public and members of both political parties quickly fell into line.

Then when we invaded, we used a much smaller force than during the first Gulf War, a result of the defense restructuring and force downsizing following the demise of the Soviet Union. Gen. Shinseki was castigated over how many troops would be required for post-conflict reconstruction; the previous administration did not believe that it would take far more troops to pacify the country than the number used to topple Saddam’s regime in the first place. Successful peacekeeping operations in Kosovo has shown that the required number of post-conflict troops should be one soldier for every 100 citizens; for Iraq, that would mean a force level of roughly 280,000 troops – the number that cost Gen. Shinseki his job as Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. That number should have given us pause before hostilities began, because it is a force we can no longer afford to muster for foreign peacekeeping operations.

But that is water under the bridge now. We’re there, we broke the nation, and we really can’t leave until Iraq is better off than when we arrived. But I think a solution is closer in hand than most people think. And it doesn’t require hundreds of thousands of troops to accomplish. Sometimes the best weapons don’t have bullets; popular support, legitimacy, security, a vibrant economy, diverse political participation, and restored hope are better weapons than military force.

Iraq’s government is currently not ready to go it alone. Our forces need to provide basic services – security and essential infrastructure such as power and water – while nurturing an organic ability for the Iraqis to take over. We’re well on that road now, but we need to let Iraqis do more of the work. No amount of US door kicking is ever going to realize peace in Iraq; for that matter, Iraqis kicking down the wrong doors will spell trouble for its fledgling government’s legitimacy in the eyes of its people.

Our military must unite with other American government agencies, allied nations, and non-governmental groups to train the Iraqis from everything from military units, police forces, judicial courts, penal facilities, government institutions, and economic markets. The less we do, the better. It is better to let them do something badly than for us to do it for them.

The critical test of the Iraqi government is the ability to guarantee the security of the population. The Iraqi government must effectively fight insurrection while at the same time protect the population; excessive application of force may cause civilian losses and undermine security. Restraint and good intelligence are keys to success. Legitimacy for the government will come through reform and strong institutions, leading to increased loyalty and a larger pool from which to glean intelligence about the insurgency. Furthermore, isolating the insurgency from its source of support, whether internal or external, will shorten its life. Eventually, the majority of the population will see the insurgents as outlaws or outsiders, allowing the police to better handle them as criminals.

In the end, we’ll have to go back to what worked before we arrived. We need to install a strong ruler who can unify the people as the Baaths or the Hashemite monarchy did, or we need to soft-partition the nation as the Ottomans and the British did. We would grant the Kurdish north, the Sunni middle, and the Shiite south semi-autonomous status with a loose administrative capital district in Baghdad. Oil revenues would have to be shared among all three provinces to encourage a peaceful co-existence rather than continued ethnic bloodshed. There is so much hate between the disparate groups that it may be the best solution. The strong ruler option is largely improbable. Any ruler we put in power would never have legitimacy and a self-appointed strong ruler would only emerge after considerable strife among the factions and in the end, probably wouldn’t be much of a friend to America.

Whatever we do, we must leave behind a stable government. If we can further drive a wedge between the former Baathists and the foreign jihadists in the insurgency, we’ll have a better shot. The Baathists are Iraqi nationalists who want a return to power while the jihadists want to create an unstable country that will provide sanctuary to terrorism, spread their ideology of extremism, and give rise to a new Islamic caliphate.

Iraq will probably never be the success we had with the reconstruction of Germany and Japan following World War II. But as long as it can justly rule its citizens and live peacefully with its neighbors, we will win a lasting peace, even if they do not like us in the long run. We can afford to do no less.