AFGANISTAN-Why we got it so wrong

I was deployed to Afghanistan (2012-2013) as the Australian Federal Police (AFP) Commander Afghanistan Mission and the Deputy Head of the International Police Coordination Board (IPCB).

Watching the rapid deterioration of the security situation in Afghanistan over the last few weeks as the Taliban carve through and recapture many of the country’s provincial capitals has evoked many emotions within me.

Despite all the good we achieved while there, I now feel as though we failed; failed the good people of Afghanistan, especially those who risked everything by helping us.

Last week one of the translators I worked alongside reached out to me in desperation. He wanted my support to help him, and his family flee Afghanistan for the safety of Australia. I didn’t hesitate because it was my moral obligation to help this man who’d unselfishly aided me - and many others - at great risk to his own personal safety. I trust the Australian Government shares my sense of moral obligation to help these people – and act upon it?.

It was also through this man, and other members of our locally engaged staff, that I learnt a lot about one of the world’s most culturally diverse, complex, and distinctive populations.

I also learnt a lot about Afghanistan’s socio-culture structure by asking him to tell me about the horsemen I’d see on a Friday (the Afghan weekend) as I travelled through Kabul’s CBD with my security team to attend meetings. He explained it was the Afghan national game called Buzkashi and often involve hundreds of riders at any given time who fought over a goat’s carcass! They pointed out anyone could compete because there’s no formal or established teams.

Interestingly, during a match, the competitors forge brief, continuously shifting alliances and they only work together until they’ve gained a short-term individual advantage. This game echoes the survival attitude we’re seeing of Afghans right now – the shifting alliances and short-term gains that are required to reach a successful outcome, presently survival.

To foreigners the game could seem anarchic, unstructured with no rules, and confusing. Interestingly, for all the alliances that are formed throughout the game between the riders the winner is an individual, not a team. The winner is the rider who manages to carry the carcass to a circle in the middle of the field, symbolically in light of current events, this is where the game also commenced. The game can last for hours or days, a reflection of the resilience and patience the Afghans possess.

Buzkashi closely mirrors the socio-cultural structure of Afghanistan, mimicking what could be considered the dysfunctional, chaotic, and opportunistic nature of Afghan society compared to that of a westernized, regulated, immobile and democratic one. Its structure completely opposes the standard traditional western methods of instruction and development.

Our leaders should’ve learnt the rules of Buzkashi before they sent us there. They would’ve seen it represented a cultural warning about the way Afghans live. Instead, (and unfortunately) the western democratic intervention blindly set about developing and structuring methods that were convenient for them to implement. They should’ve engaged, understood, and allowed the Afghans to develop and implement what they needed that suited their population and culture.

The reality is we made the mistake of ignoring it was their country and that they know their society better than us. Perhaps it’s for this reason that we’re now seeing huge numbers of Afghan security forces deserting their posts and their responsibilities. They know if they don’t run, they’ll be condemned to death – along with their families - by the Taliban. If life in Afghanistan really is a game of Buzkashi, these people are simply shifting alliances to serve a purpose. Remain alive.

Despite two decades of international intervention, victory in Afghanistan never eventuated. The coalition force of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) troops, and the International Stabilization Force (ISAF) now joins a long list of others that have tried and failed including Alexander the Great of Macedon; the Mongol Empire led by Genghis Khan; Persian Empires; the British Empire, and the Soviet Union.

While military activity to liberate nations has shown over time to be highly successful, the lessons learnt have revealed that post conflict reconstruction has mostly failed as it’s not a military responsibility. Post-conflict reconstruction is broadly understood as a complex, holistic and multi-dimensional process encompassing effort to simultaneously improve military, police (restoration of law and order), political (governance), economic (rehabilitation and development) and social conditions (justice and reconciliation).

Since the international intervention in the early 2000’s the post conflict reconstruction in Afghanistan has primarily been focused on upskilling the Afghan National Army (ANA) in a Counter Insurgency capability. However, such an approach gave little consideration to creating and developing a functioning civilian based police agency underpinned by adherence to the Rule of Law and the international norms of human rights compliance.

It’s now glaringly obvious that political and military leaders had substantially missed the opportunity to fill the ‘law and order void’.

Although it was too late in the timeline of military intervention ISAF and NATO sought to rapidly upscale police recruitment and development. Recruiting was problematic with no way of properly vetting candidates because of the lack of any formal records. The training was basic and rudimentary, initially three weeks in length which is about 1/10th the time to effectively train a Police Officer in the UK, US or Australia. Training became a task that largely fell to the Military component which meant the vast majority was tactical and kinetic with no attention to developing a strategic policing strategy, creating an institution, and creating operational systems-let alone infusing the rule of law and human rights training. As the ANP numbers swelled so too did corruption, criminal activity, fraud and misappropriation and mismanagement of funds. Illiteracy, desertion, drug addiction, gender bias and disparity all culminated in a dysfunctional policing structure.

The Taliban took full advantage of the situation and substantially targeted the ANP. With their poor training and lack of equipment they suffered significantly more human losses than the ANA. The Afghan army at times were inexplicably absent for most insurgent encounters, their reason? It was an ANP issue, and they (ANA) had directed by seniors not to engage unless ordered to do so. Police became an expedient, cheap and expendable counter insurgency force where their loss of life totaled double and in some circumstances tripling, that of the ANA.

It pains me to think what life in Afghanistan will be like under the dogmatic and oppressive Taliban Sharia law. Those who assisted and supported Coalition forces will be hunted down and killed. Afghans who dare to show defiance will be arrested, beaten, and detained. Women and girls will be banned from employment and education. Men will be captured and tortured, their head and beards shaven as a sign to others of their non-belief while women will be ordered to remain at home and to wear the burqa in public. The shipping containers that still strategically litter parts of Kabul will be resurrected as death pods where women and girls who are found guilty of treason will be assassinated.

One of the most disturbing sights I saw in Afghanistan was “Swimming Pool Hill" (where this picture was taken).

This is the place where Soviet forces built an Olympic-sized swimming pool in the 1980s on top of a 150-metre mount in the centre of Kabul. The pool was complete with multi-tiered concrete diving platforms which provide a panoramic view of the city. The Soviets however hadn’t thought how water could be pumped up hill, so the pool remained mostly empty. Under the Taliban regime the 1990s, they conducted bloody and violent public executions in the main football stadium in the centre of town and used the swimming pool for secret and political executions.

It was here where blindfolded and hobbled, accused homosexuals, intellectuals and political criminals were forced to climb to the top diving platform, 10 metres off the ground. Taliban extremists recited verses from the Koran and then pushed the offenders off the edge, watching as they plummeted onto the pool’s cement floor. If they survived, they were deemed innocent, and free to go. On the rare occasion where one might survive, they were deemed innocent and released although most would eventually die due to their catastrophic injuries.

I think of all the good men and women of Afghanistan and wonder how they must be feeling – but my heart bleeds for the children, including the young girls who attended the school next to my accommodation dressed immaculately in their pressed and starched uniforms; the young urchins who swarmed around me at ‘Swimming Pool Hill’ yelling “Mister…. Mister . . . Baksheesh” (bribes paid to expedite services) and when I didn’t oblige they stole my phone! I also fear for the lives of the young male students and young kindergarteners at the local schools who we’d regularly donate school necessities to help them with their education (I've chosen not to include pictures for security reasons). The reason why I think about them frequently is because each one of those children lost their parents . . .

They were killed by the Taliban.

Grant Edwards was deployed to Afghanistan (2012-2013) as the Australian Federal Police (AFP) Commander Afghanistan Mission and the Deputy Head of the International Police Coordination Board (IPCB). He was a member of the AFP for 34-years and also served in East Timor, established cybercrime units to fight child exploitation and human trafficking and was also the Commander of the Americas based in Washington DC.