Aerial view of Paktika, January 2010
On Wednesday I flew to Urgun in East Paktika to meet with some people at the US military base in order to try to get the other side of the story about this marauding Afghan commander named Azizullah employed by Special Operations Forces (SOF), who is apparently striking terror into the hearts of the local population down in one of Paktika's southern districts.
For years I’d heard Urgun was Paktika’s thriving economic hub and the province’s capital city by rights. With all respect, Paktika is the back of beyond - but Urgun was different, I was told, bigger and more vibrant than Sharana.
I was excited as our little Soviet-era helicopter bobbed over endless windswept wastes, eyes peeled to the windows of our rickety aircraft (one of these MI8’s tails fell off unexpectedly the other day) (not in mid-air thankfully). I was expecting to see a thriving metropolis emerging from this desolate and lonely landscape, shimmering in the distance like an oasis in a desert.
I was somewhat misled. From the air, Urgun looks like a barren wasteland with a few small houses dotted here and there, one high street and a mosque. It seemed only marginally less barren and wasteland-ish than other parts of the province as it's encircled by small mountains, but let's face it, it's still pretty bleak.
Urgun from a distance over mountains likely to be 'crawling with insurgents' (though those dark things are actually trees)
Over lunch in the FOB’s canteen, I learnt not only that Azizullah has a bad reputation even on the FOB, but just how dysfunctional things are. I already knew that SOF operate under a different set of rules and command from ISAF, but hadn’t realized how little interaction there was and that relations between ISAF and SOF can sometimes be a little tense. Whatever strategy ISAF comes up with next to try to redress what is an already pitiful situation here is bound to fail. SOF must also change the way they do things.
During one of my many rants in recent days, I was informed by my smart and level-headed colleague that ‘SOF do actually kill a lot of bad guys’. Great job, only whose benchmark of success is this? I have an analogy in my mind of a group of avid gardeners dressed in army slacks vigorously chopping down weeds at the stem. Those weeds are going to grow back, and besides, I don’t believe numbers are the issue here.
At the risk of sounding like a broken record, these bearded G.I.Joes need to start considering the cost-benefit relationship between alienating the local population and potentially turning them towards the insurgency, versus the gains made in capturing or killing insurgents who are in many cases easily replaced by others. Any perceived benefit of these operations is being outweighed by mounting tension and resentment, which is slowly rippling across the region in SOF’s wake.
Before I boarded our trusty MI8 back to Gardez, I managed to snatch a few words with the busy but receptive battalion commander and impressed upon him the various stories I’d heard about Azizullah barging into people's homes in the dead of night. Meanwhile, I’m compiling a detailed list of specific accounts collected from different sources of Aziz's crimes to give to higher ranking commanders in Salerno.
On Thursday afternoon I met with a reconciled former Hezb-I Islami commander. I’ve met him several times before. He’s always been quieter than the others and appears to be more conservative. While some members from his group make eye contact with me and shake hands (sometimes I even get a smile), he never has. He’s rather sinister looking and wears a large black turban and dark sunglasses, even when indoors. I only noticed as I looked at him more closely the other day that this is to cover an empty eye socket. I also noticed he has a slight lisp.
Over the course of our meeting in the quiet of my office, I started to get that familiar heavy feeling inside me as if something was slowly crumbling, and had to hold back tears. I realize I’m getting far too emotional about all of this, and probably should balance out a bit more what are perhaps sometimes unfair and biased opinions. I am not anti-American and have met a number of well intentioned and compassionate people on these US bases, including among top-ranking officers.
However I am in a unique and privileged position at the moment, able to meet with and listen to the local people from this area. I realize that a lot of the people I talk to probably don’t have squeaky clean pasts and their intentions may not always be noble or good, but their stories should be told.
Three weeks ago this man’s house was raided by SOF, during which they dug up the floors of his home. “They came first at night and again the next day, and destroyed my home with this digging. They found nothing and then apologized. I said to them “you have insulted me, I cannot forgive you. If you continue to do this, you are pushing me to climb the mountains” (a Pashtu turn of phrase for joining the opposition).
He went on, “The ANSF can do these searches better, they know the customs and traditions. Wherever the Special Forces go, not only do the communities hate them, but they also come under pressure from AGEs once they leave the area. They show no respect to the elders or to our religious scholars. Last year they bombarded a house killing everyone inside, as well as 70 sheep”.
“They wanted to live in communities to work with the arbakai (tribal police) but the elders rejected this. Then they said ‘ok’. They began forcing elders to provide them with arbakai so they could train them. The elders refused. The Special Forces told them “if you don’t provide us with arbakai, you are supporting the insurgents”.
“The Americans will fail here. They won’t be here forever and when they leave, do you think our arbakai are strong enough to fight the AGEs? The AGEs will come to these communities where the Special Forces people were and ask them “why did you support the Americans?” The tribes who provide arbakai to the SF are in grave trouble. The Taliban know who cooperates with the SF. They then intimidate us during the night. It is also really against our customs and traditions to have such people present in our local community”.
He talked for a while longer, recounting several more depressing anecdotes. I asked how frequently the military came to his area, he said maybe every ten days to two weeks. He insisted that the sources the SOF relied upon for information needed to be cross-checked.
“They need to analyse their reports. Do they realize that there could be issues of personal enmity or a land dispute influencing such reports? People who want revenge for whatever reason sometimes just go to Special Forces and tell them lies about people. The ANSF are sometimes corrupt but at least they know who is who here. They should do these searches. The people here have already been disappointed. We want peace, we want reconstruction. But these Americans are just insulting us”.
It was getting dark outside and my guest stood up to leave. I told him I was sorry that he and his family and community members were under so much pressure and prayed things would get better soon, and that I would do my best to ensure these stories were heard. I hoped it didn’t all sound hollow because I meant every word. For the first time he made eye contact with me and put his hand to his chest and smiled.