Afghanistan sounding more like Vietnam

In my wife’s home city in Ukraine, there’s a memorial for the fallen soldiers of the war in Afghanistan. If you weren’t aware, the USSR was involved in its own Vietnam from 1979-89, trying to overtake a tribal country that was willing to engage in prolonged guerilla warfare. 

The U.S. didn’t help the Soviet cause by arming Afghanistan rebels, including the likes of Osama bin Laden who would later found al-Qaeda – a fact most American leaders have conveniently forgotten. 

In a brief work term 10 years ago, I had the opportunity to work on a project that also commemorated soldiers who had died in Afghanistan. Only these were Canadians.  

I remember my co-worker lamenting the morbid nature of our work. We were digging up information on people whose lives had ended much too early. People whose families were left behind – children who would never see their fathers and mothers again.  

I also remember attending an information session a few years earlier, put on by the Department of National Defense, about how Canada was making great progress in Afghanistan. They explained how they were working with communities to build trust, and making inroads through what is known as soft power.  

After our withdrawal in 2014, I often wondered what was the result of this well-intentioned work. According to Pat Stogran, a former commander in Afghanistan, the impact, if any, was temporary. When he returned to Afghanistan in 2010, he said the locals had little recollection of the community building that took place years earlier. When asked point-blank if Canada accomplished anything in our efforts, he responded, “No, I don't think we accomplished anything in Afghanistan.” 

Even if Canada did engage in community work like building schools, as did the U.S., we know it was overwhelmed by the hard power that came in the form of bombs.  

President Obama gets a lot of credit for promoting peace on the international stage, but he was even more aggressive militarily than his predecessor. His administration was responsible for a three-fold increase in troops in Afghanistan and oversaw 10 times more air strikes than George W. Bush to support the War on Terror. The bombings were used to kill insurgents, but of course there were civilians, too. Collateral damage is the euphemism used.  

Since 2001, it’s estimated that over 200,000 people in Afghanistan and Pakistan were killed due to our intervention, 62,000 of them civilians. In 2018, under President Trump, who supposedly wants to end the war, more bombs were dropped on Afghanistan than at any time since the war began. 

Even before the release of the Afghanistan Papers last week, the venture into Afghanistan was sounding eerily similar to Vietnam. These government documents just confirmed it. Like in Vietnam, there was no exit strategy. Like in Vietnam, the U.S. made enemies of large portions of the population (led by the Taliban), even though it was al-Qaeda they were after. Like in Vietnam, they chose to fight an insurgency that was willing to wait them out.  

And as much as we would like to hear that Canadians were the good guys in this conflict, we have to contend with the fact that we were partners in this U.S. venture. And that venture’s strategy was flawed from the beginning. As a U.S. former assistant secretary of state confessed: “We did not know what we were doing.” 

This is cold comfort for the families whose loved ones never returned. And it’s a travesty for the people of Afghanistan. Yes, there were positive elements that resulted from removing the Taliban – allowing girls to go to school is one prominent outcome. But this was never the purpose of the mission. One assumes these objectives could have been achieved at a cost of less than $750 billion and 200,000 lives.

 What the Afghanistan Papers reaffirm is that governments can’t be trusted in times of war. They present us with propaganda – good news stories and positive spin to keep us on board. It’s about supporting the troops, after all.  

But it’s not really about the troops or their families. It’s about supporting a narrative to ease our conscience. We don’t want to believe all that investment – the money, the lives lost, the sacrifice – was for nothing. I was persuaded Canada was making a difference. We had to be making a difference – we’re Canadians, right? 

We were duped. By government, the media, and ourselves. Nearly twenty years later, maybe we’re ready to accept the truth.