Not for nothing has Afghanistan been called "the graveyard of empires." It's seen several come and go, and it's unclear that any of them left it changed in any significant or enduring respect. This isn't to say that it has been unchanged since the time of Alexander the Great, when he and the army his father Phillip built wandered and conquered there. But it is to say that what has changed in Afghanistan would very likely have changed regardless of efforts made to control and dominate it by foreign powers.
Our Glorious Union was there in force for twenty years. Let's not debate whether our Great Republic is an empire, properly speaking. Let's not debate the soundness of the reasons for our entry, though that's certainly something which can be debated. Of more importance at this time (I think) are what took place after we intervened in that country's history, and the manner of our departure.
I can't think of an instance where a foreign power has conquered a nation and successfully built another, different nation in its place. The concept of "nation building" strikes me as essentially hubristic. It's a task so colossal, and therefore so expensive, that it's hard to believe any would attempt it. Ancient Rome managed to conquer and have imperium of vast territory occupied by different nations for centuries, but even when "Romanizing" its provinces, it never sought to drastically alter the religion and culture of those conquered, except in the case of Judea. Judea was a special case, though. It revolted twice, and its distinctness, otherwise tolerated by Rome due to the fact its uniqueness was ancient, became dangerous. Also, the emperor who presided over the second revolt of its people, Hadrian, was misguided in thinking he could change it into something it simply could not be.
It's likely that Hadrian may have thought not merely that the response to the second revolt should be brutal and thoroughly so, as it certainly was. He may have thought, as an avid Hellenophile, that suppression of Judaism and forceful imposition of Graeco-Roman culture and religion was in the best interest of its people.
It doesn't seem to be the case that we entered Afghanistan to engage in nation building. But the mission must have changed, somehow. Our leaders evidently thought it was in the best interests of the people of Afghanistan that its society, culture and religion be changed, not merely that its people be controlled and rendered quiescent. The latter was generally the strategy of Rome. Let them be orderly, peaceful, and tax-paying, respectful of the genius of Rome and its emperors; then all will be well no matter what gods they worship or what their customs may be. It's possible that order may have been achieved, and violence, at least against the U.S., limited if not eradicated. But I think it's always been highly unlikely that Afghanistan would become anything like America or Europe in its customs, or in its religion or system of law, or in the freedoms and rights granted its people, though that may well be in the best interests of its people.
When that's unlikely or impossible, the wisdom of "nation building" must be questioned, and the costs especially in terms of lives lost or destroyed that result from such an ill-fated effort recognized, and it should be avoided. Some people are very different from us and some don't even want to be like us. They can't be made to be like us. This should be a truth easy enough to accept. But it seems we don't, or can't accept it.
In any case, it seems that if we're inclined to accept it, we do so far too late, and when we do we strive to extricate ourselves from the mess created precipitately. We want to "cut our losses" as soon as we can. The thought is to remove Americans as quickly as possible, regardless of consequences. The result is chaos. Such is the fate of those who purport to create a Western style democracy in Afghanistan, perhaps.
The speed with which the Taliban was able to "take back their country" to use a phrase we've heard before was apparently surprising. Also surprising, we hear, was the manner in which the army we tried to create to replace us, eventually, took flight from them. Perhaps it was our intent to help those who helped us, putting their lives at risk, by evacuating them as well as ourselves. One would hope so. One would hope we still manage to save all the people we can. But we won't save all who helped us or wished for a change, and their fate becomes the legacy of our twenty years there, to little purpose though the cost was great. What did those who died in service to their country there die for? We ask the same question regarding those who died in Vietnam.
A helicopter perched on the top of the U.S. embassy in Saigon, a line of people trying to climb into it. That photograph taken in 1975 during the Fall of Saigon is a famous one, and has been dug up for display alongside photos taken much more recently in Kabul. The evacuation of Saigon was called "Operation Frequent Wind." One wonders who came up with the name, and what was intended by it. Better than "Breaking Wind" I suppose. What will the evacuation of Kabul be called? Something like "Frantic Departure" probably won't be selected.
The United States should not be an empire. It acts as if it is one from time to time. In the Mexican War, in the Spanish-American War, in taking the Philippines. There clearly are moral reasons for not being imperial. But I also think that we're too inclined not only to enrich ourselves and our friends, but also to impose not merely order but what we think and believe on others, our culture and society, on others. That may be impossible and is certainly impractical. We're not Romans, that's to say.
No comments:
Post a Comment