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Authors: Graeme Smith
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concerned about military commanders becoming temporary kings of these outposts, splashing money around without plans for the long term, and making public works susceptible to the officers’ foibles and inevitable departure. Beev himself seemed to invite this kind of criticism, driving up to a plateau above the city to show off what he described as his biggest mistake. At first I couldn’t see anything wrong as Beev led me onto a swath of scrubland, where tracks in the dirt made it look flattened by machinery. He trotted across the empty landscape, kicking up dust that made me cough. Beev finally stopped and asked me what I saw. I wheezed, wiped my eyes and shook my head. “This is a runway for my new airport,” he said, gesturing at the open expanse. “And this is my new road. It goes straight through the runway. We got a problem, obviously.” He posed for a photo at the intersection of his half-finished runway and his half-finished road. Behind his ballistic sunglasses it was hard to read his expression, and at first I was puzzled about why a soldier would be so eager to show a reporter an embarrassing error. But he seemed to be making a point about the pace of reconstruction in Zabul. So many projects were underway simultaneously that it was hard to keep track of all the activity.
All the US money pouring into Zabul appeared to have purchased a bit of calm. I went for a walk with the provincial governor and was surprised when he stepped out the gates of a US military base and into a main street of the city without pausing his conversation or even checking for traffic. Two police officers trailing along behind his entourage seemed bored, their Kalashnikov rifles hanging at theirsides. Other politicians in southern Afghanistan travelled in armoured convoys or helicopters because assassins tried to kill them on a regular basis. I’d never seen a government leader wander so casually in the south, but the governor’s aides told me he regularly made excursions on foot. “When I first arrived, we didn’t have much control over some districts,” he said, referring to his appointment in early 2005. “People told me, ‘The Taliban is too strong. Stay inside your offices.’ ”
He chuckled at the memory. “Now, we are a success,” he said.
Foreshadows of what would happen next could be heard in a few corners of the military camps, if you looked hard for the skeptics. A Canadian diplomat told me it was a mistake to rely on the military for reconstruction programs. “We could buy a temporary peace,” he said. “But that would be based on bribery, and supporting a mafia-like state. The second you walk away and the funds stop flowing, everything falls apart.”
The situation did fall apart in Zabul during the following years. Violence in that province grew exponentially, and much of it became off limits for aid workers. But the same kind of deterioration swept over all provinces in the south, so it’s impossible to know whose strategy was better. The commanders who implemented these strategies were literate men, well versed in the history of other insurgencies. Stacks of non-fiction in their offices made them seem like warrior-professors who could spend hours talking about Roman methods of subduing rebellious tribes. Of course, Roman legions never faced roadside bombs. The history books also failed, apparently, to teach the modern officers any lessons about the dangers of convenient hope. Most personnel in the NATO mission seemed to genuinely believe that the insurgents were growing desperate, on the verge of breaking. It was such a stubbornly optimistic atmosphere that a bright young commander could stand near a troop carrier spattered with human remains and declare victory. This same blinkered view of the situation would soon lead the NATO troops, stumbling, into their biggest battle ever.
Canadian soldier in Operation Medusa
CHAPTER 4
MEDUSA AUGUST 2006
A sense of anticipation hung over Kandahar city in late
All the US money pouring into Zabul appeared to have purchased a bit of calm. I went for a walk with the provincial governor and was surprised when he stepped out the gates of a US military base and into a main street of the city without pausing his conversation or even checking for traffic. Two police officers trailing along behind his entourage seemed bored, their Kalashnikov rifles hanging at theirsides. Other politicians in southern Afghanistan travelled in armoured convoys or helicopters because assassins tried to kill them on a regular basis. I’d never seen a government leader wander so casually in the south, but the governor’s aides told me he regularly made excursions on foot. “When I first arrived, we didn’t have much control over some districts,” he said, referring to his appointment in early 2005. “People told me, ‘The Taliban is too strong. Stay inside your offices.’ ”
He chuckled at the memory. “Now, we are a success,” he said.
Foreshadows of what would happen next could be heard in a few corners of the military camps, if you looked hard for the skeptics. A Canadian diplomat told me it was a mistake to rely on the military for reconstruction programs. “We could buy a temporary peace,” he said. “But that would be based on bribery, and supporting a mafia-like state. The second you walk away and the funds stop flowing, everything falls apart.”
The situation did fall apart in Zabul during the following years. Violence in that province grew exponentially, and much of it became off limits for aid workers. But the same kind of deterioration swept over all provinces in the south, so it’s impossible to know whose strategy was better. The commanders who implemented these strategies were literate men, well versed in the history of other insurgencies. Stacks of non-fiction in their offices made them seem like warrior-professors who could spend hours talking about Roman methods of subduing rebellious tribes. Of course, Roman legions never faced roadside bombs. The history books also failed, apparently, to teach the modern officers any lessons about the dangers of convenient hope. Most personnel in the NATO mission seemed to genuinely believe that the insurgents were growing desperate, on the verge of breaking. It was such a stubbornly optimistic atmosphere that a bright young commander could stand near a troop carrier spattered with human remains and declare victory. This same blinkered view of the situation would soon lead the NATO troops, stumbling, into their biggest battle ever.
Canadian soldier in Operation Medusa
CHAPTER 4
MEDUSA AUGUST 2006
A sense of anticipation hung over Kandahar city in late
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