By Praveen
Swami
Mar 20, 2012
The idea that liberal
democracy is alien to the country, now being used to legitimise early western
withdrawal, is racist libel.
In 2004, at a packed
gathering in southern Afghanistan's troubled Paktia province, the eminent
Pashto laureate, Matiullah Turab, read out a wrenching new poem: “war is a
female fly,” it went, “hatching a hundred eggs a day.”
Last week, a deranged
United States soldier shot dead 16 people in a village near Kandahar: the
latest evil spawn to join a swarm of events that could ensure the war in
Afghanistan will run on without end. In February, murderous riots broke out
after copies of the Koran were found to have been burned by U.S. troops;
earlier, video surfaced showing soldiers urinating on the corpses of killed
enemies.
Each disaster has
sharpened tensions between Afghans and the West — tensions which, in turn, have
legitimised calls for an early withdrawal from intellectuals in Europe and the
United States. In a sharp commentary in The Atlantic, for example, James Joyner
demanded a “hastening [of] the day Americans stop dying for a lost cause.”
Powerful voices in
western geo-strategic discourse had long railed against efforts to build a
secular-democratic order in Afghanistan after 9/11. Now, the notion that
liberal democracy is in some way alien to Afghanistan has become a pervasive
meme. In order to legitimise early withdrawal, the anti-democratic politics of
the Taliban is being marketed as an authentic voice of Afghan tradition. The
ideological underpinnings of these ideas need extremely careful examination.
Enlightenment vs.
darkness
Last week, in an essay
published in The New Yorker, the influential British diplomat, scholar and
Conservative politician Rory Stewart, made the most comprehensive “lost cause”
case so far. He claimed that the pursuit of modern democratic values post-9/11
Afghanistan was founded on was “an Enlightenment faith that there is nothing
intrinsically intractable about Afghan culture and society and that all men can
be perfected [to a western ideal] through the application of reason.” Mr.
Stewart doesn't explain which Enlightenment faith he is referring to, since
there was no one single Enlightenment dogma, nor what “intrinsically
intractable” might mean — but his propositions underpin much recent writing.
Doug Bandow, writing
in the National Interest in 2010, claimed that the U.S. government “was
embarking on a long-term mission to transform Afghanistan by turning it into a
Western-style liberal democracy.” Hamida Ghafour, writing in the United Arab
Emirates-based National, had this variant: “European and North American donor
nations … are obsessed with the idea of establishing a western-style liberal
democracy”.
“Lost cause” polemic
draws, perhaps unconsciously, from Joseph Conrad's brilliant but profoundly
racist masterpiece, The Heart of Darkness. Afghanistan, in this narrative, is a
place where the West's efforts to promote its values will fail — and where
those values themselves will become corroded from within.
The problem with this
line of argument is this: there is nothing in recent Afghan political behaviour
that suggests it is any different from that of peoples elsewhere. There are few
places on the planet where the killings of innocents, such as those in
Kandahar, do not have the potential to incite large-scale violence. Indeed,
irrational scale violence has been a feature of the West's political heritage,
too.
No one in his right
mind, however, would link race riots in the U.S. to the culture of black
Americans Nor could a reasonably literate commentator attribute the lynching of
black people in the U.S.' southern States in the 1960s to a traditional honour
code — even if it was invoked by the killers. Political scientists and media
know that tradition was invoked by political actors to sharpen group
boundaries, and to scare white women from asserting their rights. In writing on
Afghanistan, however, it remains perfectly acceptable to attribute political
behaviour to a supposedly self-evident term called “Islam” or “tradition.”
Myth & reality
on democracy
A lack of thought has
allowed a few key myths about the democracy-building project in Afghanistan to
entrench themselves. The first is that the practice of democratic politics —
and its foundational structure, a central state — was a post-9/11 western
imposition. Even a cursory acquaintance with Afghan history would show that the
state had strengthened itself steadily for over a century, building up to the
promulgation of a new constitution in 1964.
Muhammad Zahir's
monarchy was overthrown in 1973, and a republic declared — but the idea that
Afghanistan ought to be a democracy was not assaulted, except from Islamists
who argued that the Shari'a, not popular will, ought to be the basis of the
government. In 2001, when Afghan leaders met in Bonn to deliberate how the
country ought to be rebuilt, they chose to adopt the 1964 constitution as its
basis: simply, democracy was an Afghan choice, not a western one.
The second myth is
this: President George W. Bush was committed to the promotion of western values
— whatever this ill-defined thing might be — in Afghanistan. Neoconservative
dogma held, on the contrary, that left to themselves, people would make
rational choices. The Iraqi state was thus dismantled; in Afghanistan,
administration and security were subcontracted to warlords. Hamid Karzai, it
bears remembering, was installed as President not in pursuit of some grand
project to promote democracy, but to address concerns that a regime led by the
victorious Northern Alliance might not have legitimacy among southern Pashtuns,
and would displease Pakistan.
Thirdly, the
proposition that there is no cultural foundation for democracy is dubious.
Farhat Taj has demonstrated the existence of democratic traditions among the
Pashtun tribes who straddle the Afghanistan-Pakistan border; the work of
historian Sana Haroon demonstrates, likewise, that what western commentators
refer to as tradition was, in fact, the outcome of complex political
contestation between tribal custom, nationalism and neo-fundamentalist
theology.
Historically, there is
evidence that Afghanistan's cultural-religious traditions have been capable of
considerable flexibility. In spite of the Koran's express prohibition of
interest, scholar Ashraf Ghani has shown, Afghanistan's 19th century cleric-run
court system routinely mediated commercial disputes involving loans. Put
another way, god's words were given meaning by human power. The merchant class,
not exegetes, shaped the substance of Sharia.
Indeed, Mr. Stewart's
suggestion that reason is not central to Afghanistan's Islamic tradition is
utterly without foundation. Though powerful anti-rational tendencies exist in
Islamic tradition — just as they do in other faith-systems — the canon
stretches to the frankly atheist. Muhammad ibn al-‘Arabi al-Ta al-Hatimi, a
13th century philosopher, saw reason as a key element that could elevate man to
the status of Khalifa, god's vice-regent. Earlier, Muhammad ibn Muhammad
al-Ghazali also placed reason at the core of his work.
The western
philosophical tradition, for its part, doesn't rest on the idea of human
perfectibility alone. For every philosopher like Jean Jacques Rousseau, there
were those from Thomas Hobbes to Carl Jung with somewhat darker perspectives on
humankind. Like every other crisis on our planet today, the roots of the war in
Afghanistan lie in modernity: the battles for empire of the 19th century; the
Cold War; secularisation against faith.
There are entirely
legitimate debates to be conducted on when the West should leave Afghanistan,
and how the war there should be fought. The truth, though, is this: the world
chose not to commit the resources, and blood, needed to build a modern
nation-state from the ruins of the Cold War. Blaming Afghans for a fate they
did not choose isn't legitimate debate — it is deeply racist libel.
Source: The Hindu, New Delhi
URL: https://newageislam.com/islam-west/afghanistan-lost-cause/d/6881