clean
12-18-2007, 05:17 PM
THEY came on foot, by lorry and by helicopter to the great tents at the junction of two dry river beds at Charbaran. Bearded men whirled rapturously to the sound of a drumbeat, kicking up a cloud of fine dust over the American soldiers around them.
This shura, or tribal council, was the culmination of Operation Attal, designed to clear the Taliban from three districts in Paktika, a troubled province bordering Pakistan. Three months earlier Charbaran's district centre—a government office-***-police station—had been torched by the Taliban and the area was said to be a training ground for the insurgents. Now it has been rebuilt with stout sandbagged fortifications and artillery for protection.
In a bloody year that has seen more Western soldiers killed than at any time since they toppled the Taliban in 2001, Operation Attal, which lasted three weeks, was uneventful. Hardly a shot was fired as the Taliban melted away before thousands of Afghan and American soldiers. But for the Americans success these days is measured less by the number of Taliban killed, and more by the number of Afghans who overcome their loyalty to the Taliban, or fear of them, to attend such a meeting. The Americans had been hoping for 200 guests; about 1,500 people came. It was billed as an Afghan reconciliation between local tribes and the central government. The choreography, however, was all American: American soldiers rebuilt the district centre, erected the tents, bulldozed new roads, brought the dignitaries by helicopter and even supplied a portrait of President Hamid Karzai.
One elder complained about the broken promises of development, and about the Americans surrounding them with armoured Humvees and roaring jets. He also wanted to get the tribe's confiscated weapons back. The 36-year-old governor, Akram Khapalwak, was having none of it. He demanded to know why the area's Kharoti tribe had allowed the destruction of the district centre and the theft of government vehicles. What was the point in building schools when teachers were being intimidated? He said $1m had been given to the Kharoti for schools, clinics and water projects, but there was little to show for it. “You thieves,” said the governor.
The recriminations over, lunch was served. The elders later agreed to provide 30 of their sons for the Afghan police force: a hopeful sign that the tribesmen were coming over to the government's side.
Operation Attal was remarkable for another reason. It was the first big operation planned and executed by the Afghan National Army, with more than 5,000 Afghan soldiers supported by about 400 Americans from the 1-503rd airborne infantry regiment. In the operations centre near Gardez, American officers sat in the second row, behind Afghan staff officers.
It was Afghan forces who searched homes while the Americans covered their backs. And behind the front-line troops followed lorry-loads of humanitarian supplies. The Americans delivered carpets and sound systems for the mosques; Korans, food, clothes and blankets against the onset of winter; hand-cranked radios to hear government broadcasts; doctors and veterinary surgeons. None of this is guaranteed to win support, but it helps.
American soldiers are still involved in a lot of shooting, particularly along the border with Pakistan. Indeed, across the country, violence has inexorably got worse. This year has seen a record number of suicide-bombings as well as a 20% increase in Taliban attacks, according to the United Nations. The insurgency has spread from the badlands along the frontier with Pakistan to much of the country's Pushtu-speaking belt, the Taliban's support base. Kabul is a regular target. Although far more American soldiers have been killed in Iraq, many more bombs fall in Afghanistan.
The Taliban can bomb, ambush and intimidate, but cannot conquer territory held by Western forces. The question is whether they can drain NATO's will to stay on. As one senior Western diplomat admits: “Failure is an option.”
www.economist.com/displaystory.cfm?story_id=10286219
This shura, or tribal council, was the culmination of Operation Attal, designed to clear the Taliban from three districts in Paktika, a troubled province bordering Pakistan. Three months earlier Charbaran's district centre—a government office-***-police station—had been torched by the Taliban and the area was said to be a training ground for the insurgents. Now it has been rebuilt with stout sandbagged fortifications and artillery for protection.
In a bloody year that has seen more Western soldiers killed than at any time since they toppled the Taliban in 2001, Operation Attal, which lasted three weeks, was uneventful. Hardly a shot was fired as the Taliban melted away before thousands of Afghan and American soldiers. But for the Americans success these days is measured less by the number of Taliban killed, and more by the number of Afghans who overcome their loyalty to the Taliban, or fear of them, to attend such a meeting. The Americans had been hoping for 200 guests; about 1,500 people came. It was billed as an Afghan reconciliation between local tribes and the central government. The choreography, however, was all American: American soldiers rebuilt the district centre, erected the tents, bulldozed new roads, brought the dignitaries by helicopter and even supplied a portrait of President Hamid Karzai.
One elder complained about the broken promises of development, and about the Americans surrounding them with armoured Humvees and roaring jets. He also wanted to get the tribe's confiscated weapons back. The 36-year-old governor, Akram Khapalwak, was having none of it. He demanded to know why the area's Kharoti tribe had allowed the destruction of the district centre and the theft of government vehicles. What was the point in building schools when teachers were being intimidated? He said $1m had been given to the Kharoti for schools, clinics and water projects, but there was little to show for it. “You thieves,” said the governor.
The recriminations over, lunch was served. The elders later agreed to provide 30 of their sons for the Afghan police force: a hopeful sign that the tribesmen were coming over to the government's side.
Operation Attal was remarkable for another reason. It was the first big operation planned and executed by the Afghan National Army, with more than 5,000 Afghan soldiers supported by about 400 Americans from the 1-503rd airborne infantry regiment. In the operations centre near Gardez, American officers sat in the second row, behind Afghan staff officers.
It was Afghan forces who searched homes while the Americans covered their backs. And behind the front-line troops followed lorry-loads of humanitarian supplies. The Americans delivered carpets and sound systems for the mosques; Korans, food, clothes and blankets against the onset of winter; hand-cranked radios to hear government broadcasts; doctors and veterinary surgeons. None of this is guaranteed to win support, but it helps.
American soldiers are still involved in a lot of shooting, particularly along the border with Pakistan. Indeed, across the country, violence has inexorably got worse. This year has seen a record number of suicide-bombings as well as a 20% increase in Taliban attacks, according to the United Nations. The insurgency has spread from the badlands along the frontier with Pakistan to much of the country's Pushtu-speaking belt, the Taliban's support base. Kabul is a regular target. Although far more American soldiers have been killed in Iraq, many more bombs fall in Afghanistan.
The Taliban can bomb, ambush and intimidate, but cannot conquer territory held by Western forces. The question is whether they can drain NATO's will to stay on. As one senior Western diplomat admits: “Failure is an option.”
www.economist.com/displaystory.cfm?story_id=10286219