Carving up Afghanistan
As the totalitarian fundamentalists of the Taliban head for the hills under the triple assault of U.S. warplanes, Northern Alliance advances and the treachery of erstwhile allies, the stage is being set less for a democratic renaissance than for a new round of horse-trading among the hard men. And the emphasis here is definitely on men — in all the reporting you've read or watched from Afghanistan in the past six weeks, how many women's voices have you heard? Probably none, because the Northern Alliance appear to share the Taliban's enthusiasm for the idea that women are seen (barely, under their burkas) but not heard.
The various factions of the Northern Alliance have recaptured their traditional northern and western hometowns, and they've reportedly already divided Kabul into separate zones for each of its component ethnic militia that march separately but fight together. In the south, the Taliban appear to have been driven out of their last urban strongholds in Kandahar and Jalalabad, headed, no doubt, for the hills where they'll hope to reprise the mujahedeen guerrilla tradition. But reports suggest much of the post-Taliban south is now being carved up among various local Pashtun commanders. Fighters loyal to Arif Khan, a local tribal leader, are said to hold Kandahar's airport. One Yunus Khalis has claimed Jalalabad and the Pakistani border town of Torkham. And so on. With the Taliban gone, most local warlords who once fought on their side have mutinied, and are now staking their claim in a post-Taliban political order.
All of this is good news for the U.S. and bad news for Osama bin Laden and his men. The Arab, Pakistani and Chechen volunteers he brought to Afghanistan are mounting last stands, because unlike the Taliban's indigenous fighters, these "tourists" can't switch sides. But they're surrounded with little hope of relief, and the moment of "martyrdom" draws near for most. And if bin Laden's survival had depended on the Taliban's, their collapse may well presage his own.
The U.S. role
But while the people of Afghanistan may be thrilled to be rid of the Taliban, they can be forgiven for feeling more than a little nervous over what comes next.
This is not the first time the U.S. has helped Afghan warlords overthrow a despotic usurper. But, like Washington's support for the anti-Soviet mujahedeen during the 1980s, this is not a mercy mission. Back then, supporting the mujahedeen was simply a way of weakening America's Cold War enemy; the purpose of the current war is to destroy the anti-American terrorist infrastructure that had taken root in Afghanistan. This time, however, the U.S. would do well to avoid simply walking away from Afghanistan, as tempting as that option may become once Al Qaeda's infrastructure there has been destroyed and the complexities of Afghan politics defy easy solutions.
Afghanistan became a hotbed of terrorism precisely because of the warlord culture that overcame and then replaced the Soviets. Rival mujahedeen factions turned on each other after seizing Kabul, launching a civil war that killed some 50,000 Afghanis. But by then the U.S. was no longer interested in Afghanistan. It paid little attention, too, when its longtime regional ally, Pakistan, organized the Taliban takeover in the hope of ending the civil war on Pakistan-friendly terms. Nor when Osama bin Laden, star fundraiser and organizer of the Arab volunteers who had fought alongside the mujahedeen returned to Afghanistan and quickly forged a close alliance with the Taliban. Indeed, Afghanistan only reemerged on America's national security priority list after Bin Laden's 1998 attacks on U.S. embassies in East Africa.
Shepherding the men with gunsAmerica has certainly made up for lost time. Thanks to a concerted bombing campaign and active support for Northern Alliance ground forces, the Taliban regime that harbored bin Laden is no more. Soon, the same will probably be true for the terrorist himself and many of his acolytes. And Washington has undertaken to help the Afghan people with humanitarian aid and support for a new, broad-based government. But it's already clear that the men with the guns are looking to decide the shape of the future, their sense of entitlement deepened by their proxy service to the U.S. war effort.
There are a lot of men with guns in Afghanistan, and they seldom get along for very long. Indeed, for the past two decades, Kalashnikovs and RPG-7 rocket launchers have been the basic tools of Afghan politics. Right now, a broad-based government probably means simply accommodating all of those strong enough to fight their way into the chamber. That may be the dictate of realpolitik. But an equilibrium of force won't be particularly stable in a land where war has become a way of life for men and boys. One outlandish recommendation to those hoping to create a more stable and broadly representative government in Afghanistan: make sure you hear from the women, even though keeping them quiet appears to be a rare point of consensus among rival warlords across the board.