Read Online Thieves of State: Why Corruption Threatens Global Security by Sarah Chayes - Free Book Online Page A

me just finish.” I clamped my teeth together. “Here’s how this Afghan government is operating.” He started on a new triangle, a new circle at its summit. “Here’s GIRoA,” he said, the Afghan government. An array of smaller circles formed the triangle’s midsection. They represented subordinate officials—governors or provincial chiefs of police. At the bottom of the triangle was a row of stick figures: the people. Kolenda drew an arrow between the levels of officials again, indicating the flow of money.
    But this time, rather than pointing downward to signal a distribution of resources from patron to client, the arrow was pointing upward, from the subordinate official to the superior. Money, Kolenda argued, was moving up the chain of command in today’s Afghanistan, in the form of gifts, kickbacks, levies paid to superiors, and the purchase of positions.
    Much of the cash garnered this way didn’t even stay in country. It was being transferred offshore, to places like Dubai in the United Arab Emirates.
    I didn’t snap a picture of that whiteboard sketch. I wish I had. It has structured my understanding of Afghan corruption, and of acute corruption in general, ever since. And incidentally, it pierced the mystery of Interior Minister Atmar and Border Police Chief Sayfullah. I’ve been perfecting that diagram for years, adapting it to fit different countries. I’ve confirmed the behaviors it predicts in hundreds of conversations with Afghans and people living under other kleptocracies. I’ve briefed it dozens of times. *
    The critical feature is the directionality of the arrows indicating the money flow. Their upward motion contradicts a widely shared preconception about how the Karzai government operated. Karzai was not, as conventional wisdom had it, doling out patronage. 1 He wasn’t distributing money downward to buy off potential political rivals. 2 If anything—with exceptions especially before elections—the reverse was true. Subordinate officials were paying off Karzai or his apparatus. Whatthe top of the system provided in return was, first, unfettered permission to extract resources for personal gain, and second, protection from repercussions.
    And that explained the contortions Atmar had put himself through to shield Sayfullah. The whole system depended on faithful discharge, by senior officials, of their duty to protect their subordinates. The implicit contract held, much as it does within the Mafia, no matter how inconsequential the subordinate might be. Every level paid the level above, and the men at the top had to extend their protection right to the bottom. The Sayfullah arrest—like any legal challenge—represented a test case. How well the regime defended even its lowliest officials would broadcast a message throughout the system about the strength of the protection guarantee. If Karzai failed to uphold his end of the bargain, the whole edifice would collapse.
    Thinking about the Afghan government this way abruptly solved other puzzles too. I could now decode two subsequent episodes in the Sayfullah saga, which many of my ISAF and rule of law colleagues found baffling.
    The first was Interior Minister Atmar’s flat refusal to call a press conference to announce the arrest. “You do it,” he shot back at U.S. officials, who had expected him to leap at the chance to pose as a champion in the battle against corruption. They could not understand why a member of the sovereignty-conscious Afghan cabinet would let foreigners speak in his place.
    But Atmar was contemplating the signal that would be transmitted to members of the network. The last thing he wanted them thinking was that he was behind Sayfullah’s arrest. That would violate the protection deal. He needed it known that he had opposed the move—that the foreigners had made him do it. And the best way to get that message across was to have an international official make the announcement.
    The press conference never