That Word “Abandon”…

It is not uncommon to hear pundits, politicians and commentators color their warnings about withdrawal from Afghanistan by hearkening back to the period following the withdrawal of Soviet forces from that same country.  According to the narrative offered by these concerned historians, the United States “abandoned” Afghanistan in the wake of the Soviet defeat there, and that neglect paved the way for instability, civil war,the eventual rise of the Taliban and its subsequent sheltering of al-Qaeda.

The actual history is far more complicated, and the claim that our abandonment led to these outcomes is dubious at best given the nature of our involvement prior to our decision to disengage.  If anything, our engagement itself was a major contributing factor in the destabilization and radicalization of elements of Afghan (and Pakistani) society, which exacerbated conflicts down the road, and provided impetus for the empowerment of anti-American radicals.  Further, it is extremely unlikely that continued interference by the United States would have had a positive outcome given the possible avenues that were open at the time. 

To properly assess the argument that we abandoned Afghanistan, and that our turning away led to (or greatly contributed to) its current dire situation, it is essential to examine the nature of our involvement prior to disengagement.  Beginning in 1979, following the Soviet invasion to bolster the besieged, Soviet-allied Afghan government, the United States backed the Afghan rebel groups (though some argue that our support for the rebels began before the Soviet invasion as a means to induce Soviet entry). 

To support the Afghan rebels, the U.S. began sending arms and funds (as well as medical supplies for insurgent forces), encouraged Saudi Arabia to provide funds to the same groups, and made common cause with efforts to entice would-be jiahadists from around the Muslim world to join the fight. 

The conduit chosen for distribution of the money and material to the warring factions was Pakistan - in particular, the Pakistan intelligence agency (ISI). The ISI is the same group that is now refusing to cease its support for Afghan Taliban factions fighting NATO forces, just to provide some modern context. 

Funneling the money through the ISI led to corruption within its upper echelons, as embezzlement and graft became the norm.  Use of the ISI in such a manner also inadvertently increased its power relative to other governmental organs - an imbalance whose repercussions are still bedeviling the region to this day.  Suddenly, the ISI was able to control a massive patronage system, with a deluge of foreign wealth at its disposal, which its leaders used to great advantage.

In addition, Saudi Arabia took advantage of the opening to establish religious schools and mosques throughout Pakistan and Afghanistan, which it then used to export its radical Wahhabist religious doctrine. Osama bin Laden himself set up shop in Peshawar Pakistan, the city through which much of the Saudi money – and foreign fighters – flowed.  The congregation of so many extremists, and the sudden proliferation of a radicalizing religious ideology, had an effect on the character of the Afghan resistance, as well as Pakistani society as a whole - not least, the increasingly powerful ISI. 

With radical ideology captivating many of its top officials, the ISI began to favor extremist elements in Afghanistan, such as Hekmatyar and Haqqani, at the expense of others.  Soon, the groups that we should logically show aversion to empowering became the primary recipients of U.S. and Saudi largesse due to the ISI’s interdiction. 

As the battle turned, and the Soviets began to pull out, Ahmed Rashid points to an intriguing chapter in the region’s history: the proposal of a possible power sharing arrangement between the disparate groups.  Unfortunately the United States was more interested in exacting the maximum amount of pain from the Soviets, and so it passed up on what was likely the best possible chance for achieving a workable framework for stability in Afghanistan: 

For thirty years Afghanistan has cast a long, dark shadow over world events, but it has also been marked by pivotal moments that could have brought peace and changed world history.

One such moment occurred in February 1989, just as the last Soviet troops were leaving Afghanistan. Soviet Foreign Minister Eduard Shevardnadze had flown into Islamabad—the first visit to Pakistan by a senior Soviet official. He came on a last-ditch mission to try to persuade Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto, the army, and the Interservices Intelligence (ISI) to agree to a temporary sharing of power between the Afghan Communist regime in Kabul and the Afghan Mujahideen. He hoped to prevent a civil war and lay the groundwork for a peaceful, final transfer of power to the Mujahideen.

By then the Soviets were in a state of panic. They ironically shared the CIA’s analysis that Afghan President Mohammad Najibullah would last only a few weeks after the Soviet troops had departed. The CIA got it wrong—Najibullah was to last three more years, until the eruption of civil war forced him to take refuge in the UN compound in April 1992. The ISI refused to oblige Shevardnadze. It wanted to get Gulbuddin Hekmatyar [ed note: one of our most potent Taliban adversaries at the moment], one of the seven disparate Mujahideen leaders and its principal protégé, into power in Kabul. The CIA had also urged the ISI to stand firm against the Soviets. It wanted to avenge the US humiliation in Vietnam and celebrate a total Communist debacle in Kabul—no matter how many Afghan lives it would cost. A political compromise was not in the plans of the ISI and the CIA.

I was summoned to meet Shevardnadze late at night and remember a frustrated but visibly angry man, outraged by the shortsightedness of Pakistan and the US and the clear desire of both governments to humiliate Moscow. He went on to evoke an apocalyptic vision of the future of Afghanistan, Pakistan, and the region. His predictions of the violence to come turned out to be dead right.

At that pivotal moment, if Shevardnadze’s compromise had been accepted, the world might well have avoided the decade-long Afghan civil war, the destruction of Kabul, the rise of the Taliban, and the sanctuary they provided al-Qaeda. Perhaps we could have avoided September 11 itself—and much that has followed since, including the latest attempt by a Nigerian extremist to blow up a transatlantic airliner, the killing of seven CIA officers at an Afghan base, and the continuing heavy casualties among NATO troops and Afghan civilians in Afghanistan.

With Obama’s controversial and risk-laden plan to first build up and then, in eighteen months, start drawing down US troops in Afghanistan, every nation and political leader in the region now faces another pivotal moment. At stake is whether the US and its allies are willing to talk to the Afghan Taliban, because there is no military victory in sight and no other way to end a war that has been going on for thirty years.

When that moment comes—as it must—will the US and NATO be ready to talk with the Taliban or will they be internally divided, as they are now? Will President Hamid Karzai have the credibility to take part in such talks and deliver on an agreement that might be reached? Will the ISI demand that their own Taliban protégés return to power? Will the Taliban hard-liners, now scenting victory, even agree to talks and, as a consequence, be prepared to dump al-Qaeda? Or will they sit out the next eighteen months waiting for the Americans to begin to leave?

So the question is, in what way (outside of this episode) did the U.S. abandon Afghanistan and how could a continued engagement have helped?  Recall, the U.S. was providing military aid, via Pakistan, in pursuit of narrow U.S. interests.  Relatively speaking, the U.S. was not providing significant humanitarian aid to Afghanistan prior to the Soviet expulsion, nor was it supporting nation building efforts.  In fact, in rejecting the Shevardnadze offer, the U.S. was at best indifferent to the notion.  After Najibullah’s fall, the only recourse was to become a party to the conflict that ensued, as game-changing levels of humanitarian aid and/or nation building support offered in the middle of such strife was impractical. 

Should the United States have continued providing military aid?  To which factions?  Or would Afghanistan have been better off if we didn’t “abandon” it, but rather joined with the ISI in backing the Taliban?  Certainly, the ISI and many of its allies felt abandoned as the spigot was turned off, but that is hardly a reason to maintain the flow.

On the other hand, should the U.S. have shifted its aid funnel to those factions that the ISI was now squaring off against by proxy?  Without Pakistan’s assistance, how was the distribution of aid feasible?  Regardless, would it have been wise for the U.S., after witnessing and aiding in the U.S.S.R.’s costly effort, to decide that now would be a good time to get itself knee-deep in an Afghan civil war (and wouldn’t the U.S.S.R. have relished the opportunity to return the favor)?  I would argue no.

Outside of working within the Shevardnadze framework, there were few constructive options that the U.S. could pursue to avoid “abandoning” Afghanistan.  Or rather, the alternatives to “abandonment” were likely worse given that large scale humanitarian aid and nation building support were likely to be inconsequential in the face of the conflicts that followed.  Outside of continuing the provision of a certain level humanitarian aid (which would have been worth it if only in terms of mitigating some of the human suffering, assuming delivery and distribution remained possible in some way), at best, we could have become a participant ourselves in Afghanistan’s post-Soviet conflict, or chosen a favored faction to participate in our stead.  But I think we’ve come to learn how futile that approach is over the past 8+ years. 

As if the Soviet experience wasn’t tutelage enough.

Little has changed in terms of the attractiveness and workability of the alternatives to what is called “abandonment” – at least in so much as “abandonment” is being used as a euphemism for the withdrawal of U.S. military forces en masse (there are means of military and non-military aid available as alternatives to wholesale abandonment).  The primary question that remains now is the one posed by Rashid: Will the U.S. pursue a power sharing arrangement in earnest now, and are there enough willing participants within Afghanistan and the broader region?

Related posts:

1. Our Midas Guns
2. Start Another Fire and Watch It Slowly Die
3. Engaging the Muslim World: Pakistan and Afghanistan
4. Premature Evacuation?
5. The Af-Pak Unpack
6. Mind the Gap
7. Big Uncle Knows Best