My Share of the Task(195)
The complex side of the equation had multiple components. Time was significant. With two months until the August elections, operations that demonstrated even the first glimmers of progress in a contested area could be important. Confidence was a big consideration. President Karzai’s government naturally wanted to allow more Pashtuns to vote by securing Helmand. But I judged that wide voting in the upcoming election would enhance Afghan confidence, or at least increase their involvement, in the governance of their nation. This was a vital long-term objective. More broadly, Afghans had grown cynical of short-term fixes that quickly eroded, and I hoped to show that we could concentrate our forces and capabilities to secure an area, and make it stick. It wasn’t proof of principle; I knew the principle worked. It was an opportunity to demonstrate it to people and governments who were too tired for theory.
Politics were a reality. The Marines had sought a contiguous area, Helmand, where they could operate with relative independence, and the Brits welcomed the opportunity to reduce the territory their overstretched forces needed to secure. I knew that both would be more vested in the success of the effort if it also supported their internal objectives. Going forward with the Helmand operations took advantage of these dynamics.
I did have concerns that an initial main effort in Helmand delayed our ability to place more focus on securing the south’s key city, Kandahar. But while Kandahar’s security was a serious concern as the districts around the city were inflamed, it wasn’t besieged or in imminent danger of falling. Rather, we would be able to wage a deliberate campaign in a year’s time to better secure Kandahar.
Some critics argued that our resources were misspent on Helmand. But such views typically underplayed Helmand’s importance, and just how bad the situation was there. With limited effort and facing little resistance, the Taliban had captured districts closely encircling Lashkar Gah, giving them a perch from which to seriously threaten the provincial capital, and make it untenable. I reasoned that clear success in a Taliban stronghold like Helmand could be a convincing first step in puncturing the perception of the Taliban’s strength. And more than anything else, this was a war of perception and confidence.
Outside views of the Helmand operations were mixed. Media coverage ranged from descriptions of positive signs to proclamations of total failure. Reality was confusingly somewhere in the middle, and it would be months before we could judge either way. For me, the war’s inherent ambiguity created a delicate balancing act. A convincing portrait of success would have helped give Afghans greater confidence and built Coalition-nation support. But I sought to avoid advertising any perceived gains, as I was more concerned that I maintain my credibility and that of the command. This required that I understand the on-the-ground situation and the slow pace of successful counterinsurgency. I had to be honest enough to provide realistic appraisals.
I instructed my team that they were allowed to speak freely with the media, but if they were to make a case for progress, they were to use numbers, not anecdotes. For every positive vignette they might come across, Afghanistan would surely offer up depressing scenes in equal measure.
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The insurgencies waged in southern and eastern Afghanistan were primarily fought and led by Afghans, who had Afghan aspirations. But to a troubling extent, they relied on sanctuaries in Pakistan to protect their leadership, recruits, staging areas, and supply lines. They kept their headquarters in Quetta and used infiltration routes in Pakistan’s Federally Administered Tribal Areas (FATA) directly across the disputed Durand Line.
A couple of weeks after I arrived, on July 2, I took my first trip to Pakistan as commander of ISAF. Flying over the border, I was reminded of the historically rooted and obstinate political forces that influenced events on the ground of the war I commanded. The desolate, craggy ridges and pine valleys we flew over on our way to Islamabad, Pakistan’s capital, had at one time been coveted by Britain as strategic ground when it believed Afghanistan was indispensible to securing the crown jewel of the British Empire, India. Occasionally harassed by Afghan tribesmen but more seriously threatened by Russian and French designs, India was best protected by an Afghan buffer state kept friendly, weak, and quarantined from other foreign powers. After significant military expeditions into Afghanistan, which included disastrous defeat, heroism, treachery, and privation, Britain settled on a policy of limited engagement, instead trying to influence Afghan leaders through incentive “stipends” for friendly behavior and threats of punishing military retribution for misconduct. The approach wasn’t particularly elegant, and while it worked well enough for the British, it also stunted Afghanistan’s ability to mature as a state.