I recently returned to Dar al Islam from my humble enclave in Indonesia where I've spent the last few months surfing, eating seafood, and trying to forget what a carbomb, helicopter - or worst of all - a mosque's loudspeaker sounds like.
During that brief junket in support of a construction project for my company, I had the opportunity to visit some construction projects in Kabul, Afghanistan for three days. I owe it to the loyal readers of The Autonomist to share the brief glimpse I had of that country and its people, since what I found there was surprising.
Afghanistan is said to be about 100 years behind Iraq in terms of technological, educational, and other forms development - a harrowing thought for anyone who has ever spent time in Iraq. True enough, Afghanistan's infrastructure, even in the capital city of Kabul, is minimal. Blocks and blocks of deteriorating, crooked, slapdash houses and buildings are the rule rather than the exception. It seems most buildings there of any significance and any structural integrity were built by the Soviets during their occupation of the country in the 1980s.
At first look Afghans, by Western standards, are in a primitive state indeed - shuffling along in traditional clothes and turbans on dusty, trash-strewn streets and alongside open sewers that carry raw sewage and blood from butcher shops to, well, wherever. The ubiquitous donkey carts and goat herds in Kabul, Afghanistan's capital city, are like those found in the more remote villages of Iraq.
But those scenes, typical of any impoverished area of the Middle East, are where many of the similarities with Iraq end. Differences between the Afghans and the Arab Iraqis are what struck me most. In this humble vagabond's opinion, the Afghans, though poorer and less educated in general than Iraqis, come out on top by most other measures of comparison.
For one thing, Afghans appreciate color. Their prized possessions are often adorned with elaborate, loud ornamentation - flowers braided in the manes of their horses, elaborate scenes of sunsets or flowers hand-painted on their trucks and buses; baubles and ribbons and reflectors of all sorts attached by various means to the handlebars, fenders, spokes, and frames of their bicycles. Even the full-face bhurkas worn outdoors by perhaps 30% of Kabul's women were lavender, rather than the severe, sweat-drenched black ones worn by their Iraqi Arab counterparts.
I spoke a lot with my Kabul-based coworkers, all of whom also had extensive experience in Iraq. To a man, they agreed that Afghans are better Muslims to work with, despite their lower levels of skills and education. While there are many forms of trickery and pitfalls that an Afghan can set for you in a transaction, my coworkers generally agreed that once the terms of a bargain are understood, an Afghan will endeavor to live up to his side of it. Those who may remember some of my posts from Iraq will recognize this as a huge departure from tendencies there. It appears that, while competence and ability may sometimes hinder Afghans, they have at least a basic understanding and respect for the concept of Agreement.
My coworkers told me that Afghans' legendary toughness applies in the work arena as well. They complain, whine, and loaf much less than Iraqis do. If asked to work extended hours or even all night, they tend to do so with little trepidation or complaining.
Like in most of the Middle East, corruption in Afghanistan is rampant among low-level police and public officials, but only for minor affairs like a couple bucks to cut in lines at the airport, or maybe a ten-spot for the checkpoint cop to ignore the bottle of Jack you have in the backseat of your car. And compared to the corruption in Iraq, where one can never tell whether a squad of police means to protect you or kidnap you, Afghan security forces are Boy Scouts.
My recent duties in Afghanistan required me to visit some "sensitive" areas of the Afghan government, and the Afghan police and military at those facilities were professional, disciplined, and even, (gasp!), helpful. And here's something that struck me deeply: There seemed to be a sense - dare I say it? - of appreciation for what we Westerners are trying to bring to Afghanistan and its people. Where Arab Iraqi government officials typically tried to exploit our efforts, (by way of extortion, threats, holdouts for bribes, etc.), Afghan officials seem much more inclined to try and help progress, rather than to obstruct or to subvert it.
For instance, I arrived at one sensitive Afghan installation unannounced and when I explained to the lead gate guard that I was there concerning a future construction project at that facility, he immediately got on his radio and spent about 15 minutes trying to get permission to let me in. Once successful, he personally escorted me to the Afghan general in charge of the facility, who saw me at once. After the general looked me over and asked some questions, he appointed one of his officers to guide me to the site and answer all my questions. Then the general gave me his card to take to other agencies so I could "drop" his name if such need arose.
Such reasonable, good-faith effort on the part of any Iraqi official would have been immediate cause for giant celebration after my initial shock had worn off. But when I thanked this Afghan general for seeing me and helping me he simply said, "But of course - it's my job." After hearing that I almost fell out of my chair.
Roses. I was told by an Australian that Afghanistan is where the rose originated from. While I haven't yet verified that as fact, I can say without a doubt that Afghans certainly have a passion for them. Any green spaces - the yards of nice homes, gardens around important government buildings, planters along sidewalks on military bases - are invariable well planted with lots of blooming, pink rose bushes. Given the extraordinary lengths many well-heeled Westerners go to to keep and maintain their roses, it was comical to see that prized flower so casually and successfully tended by one of the world's most disadvantaged people.
There are security problems in Kabul, with kidnapping and suicide bombing occasionally done by remnants of the Taliban. But thankfully, I was spared any evidence of such miserable activities during my visit. By all accounts there is no comparison to the violence in Baghdad. For one thing, the Kabul Afghans are not easily intimidated, and they tend to report any suspicious activities to the authorities - another refreshing deviation from our Arab Iraqi friends. And if there are any doubts about the relative calm currently enjoyed in Kabul, consider this: Even UN officials travel on Kabul's roads and live in unsecured neighborhoods there. Of course, their houses, like the houses of any Westerner there, have some security personnel to keep watch. But the fact that even a UN bureaucrat can rest his "compassionate", "enlightened", and "noble" bones in Kabul is proof positive that risks to one's personal safety there are easily managed.
This is not to give the impression that all is rosy and ducky in Afghanistan, since I only visited Kabul. Kandahar, (the stronghold of the mujahadeen Arab-incited Taliban), and other places still suffer from serious hostilities. And while construction and other non-military efforts enjoy much more support from the locals in Afghanistan, it is significantly harder to find skilled craftsmen, qualified professionals, or decent building materials, than in Iraq. Also, to say that roses adorn all the green spaces in Kabul, is not to say that there are a lot of green spaces there - there aren't.
My main point is that the Afghans are generally trying to take advantage of the opportunities the West has presented them with. Afghans don't have much, but they express an interest in improving their lot. Unlike many Iraqis, Afghans don't wallow in the sort of cultural and religious supremacism that causes most Arabs, the world over, to reflexively recoil at the mere notion that a Westerner might have a better way to do certain things. In many ways, Afghans remind me of the Kurds in Iraq, which is why I have been careful in my descriptions of Iraqi behavior in this piece to specify Arab Iraqis, rather than just Iraqis.
Afghans have a long-standing reputation for being a tough and resilient people, a reputation earned throughout history, from Alexander the Great to Gorbachev. They have been invaded many times, but never truly conquered, with the exception of the Taliban's jihad conquests, of course. But regarding that conquest, I got the sense that they are still Afghans first, and Muslims second.
No doubt, someday the Afghans will let us know that we have worn out our welcome, as they have with all foreign powers who stepped foot on their turf. If we're smart, (for once), we'll take them seriously. Until then, we should continue our efforts to provide them with the freedom, independence and security they seem to find desirable.
No matter how things ultimately go in Iraq, we should not forsake Afghanistan. From what I've seen, the Afghan people are worth our efforts there.
Post Script: After almost three straight years of being there, Iraq finally got to me. It wasn't so much that the terrorists and the traitors and the media attacked those of us "on the ground" relentlessly, it was the fact that our side rarely shot back, literally or politically. The black plague of Political Correctness infects our government at all levels - it blinds the eyes of our leaders, and eats away at the hearts and minds of our warriors. There is nothing more perverse than the destruction of human bodies, minds, and souls. For three years, I saw all these forms of destruction in Iraq and I believe that our politically correct approach to fighting the murderers there is inadvertently helping prolong - indeed fuel - some of that destruction.
We are attempting to make war something it is not: harmless, tolerable, maybe even appealing to our refined Starbucks palates. Such misguided fantasy is the province of the "intellectual" alchemists among us. But unlike alchemists of days long past, the experiments conducted by the modern alchemists in academia, in the Antique Media and among the cultural elites consume not lead bricks, but the flesh and blood of our sons and daughters.
My perspectives on the war have soured, and the only thing I could write about it now would be an endless criticism of our leaders and their war policies. Though my voice is a tiny one with little chance of influence on events, I'll refrain from adding it to the fashionable but destructive cacophony of today's Iraq war detractors. Perhaps someday my small observations will be added to the historical record of our government's "performance" in Iraq. But for now I will try to hold my tongue, since American troops are still in harm's way.
I left my position in Iraq in February 2007, and will soon be seeking international work in other parts of the world - anywhere besides Dar al Islam. While I remain passionate about the threat of Islamic jihad against America and the world, I have found it necessary to take a break from the crushing effects of Islam mentally, as well as physically. After my break, I hope to continue posting to The Autonomist from time to time. I'm grateful that this site's publisher, Rocco DiPippo, made his way to Iraq to keep us informed of events on the ground there from a fresh perspective.
Now if you don't mind, the clean waves and friendly Hindus of Bali await my return. . .
