Rory Stewart: The Places In Between
Rory Stewart's The Places In Between (2004; paperback, 2006,
Harvest Books) is nominally a travel book, but you can just as well
file it under shaggy dog stories. (Hint: a large dog is a prominent
character here.) Stewart's idea was to walk from Istanbul to Nepal,
or something like that. Due to political exigencies, he skipped over
Afghanistan, then decided to fill it in after the Taliban scattered
in late 2001 -- or fill some of it in, specifically the stretch from
Herat to Kabul. It was winter, which gave him a notable predecessor:
Emperor Babur, ruler of Kabul, made the same trek in 1504, describing
it in a diary that provides a reference point here.
On a press conference with Ismail Khan, the warlord who took over
Herat following the fall of the Taliban (pp. 53-54):
"I would like to say," said Ismail Khan, "that before we came there
was no furniture here -- the Taliban was against furniture. We've
bought all this furniture in the last two weeks."
Ismail Khan disagreed with the Taliban more about furniture than
about Islam. He believed in the jihad and hated atheist foreigners
interfering in Afghanistan. He had encouraged women to return to
schools but believed they should be well covered and should not speak
to men to whom they were not related. He was about to order new "vice
and virtue" squads to raid the arcades I had seen and burn the
DVDs. He had implemented laws requiring women to wear head carves and
forbidding men from wearing neckties. Women who met men to whom they
were not related could be forcibly examined in hospitals to determine
whether they had recently had sex. But I was not sure how many of the
people in the room understood his vision of an Islamic state. He was
certainly not going to share his views on women with the reporter from
Television France 2, who had not covered her blond hair.
In Jam, the famed Turqoise Mountain of the Ghorid kingdom (p. 159):
Antiquity looting is an ancient and highly controversial problem
and because of the money involved, it is almost impossible to
stop. But the situation in Jam was comparatively simple. A single,
small site of immense historical importance lay in a remote location
that could be manageably enclosed, policed, and monitored. Any items
reaching the international market from Jam were not chance finds, but
deliberately stolen. The local villagers were earning only a dollar or
two a day digging and could have been employed by an archaeological
team to work with an official excavation, rather than against
it. Ismail Khan, the most powerful man in the provine, did not earn
much from the illegal antiquities trade in comparison with the
cross-border trade in other items from Herat. He would have seen
providing security at the site as an inexpensive and uncontroversial
opportunity to cooperate with the international community. One
reasonably energetic and committed foreign archaeologist with decent
funds could have stepped in to protect the site at any time. I
guessed, however, that the international community would not act
before it was too late, and I was right.
On the road to Chaghcharan (pp. 161-162):
In the Indian Himalayas, villagers had described their landscape in
terms of religious myth. "This hill is where Shiva danced," they said,
or, "This lake was made by Arjuna's arrow." But like Abdul Haq
[Stewart's escort for the first leg of the trek], the Aimaq villagers
defined their landscape by acts of violence or death. I was shown the
hundred yards the young Commander Mullah Rahim Dad galloped when
morally wounded after an ambush by men from Majerkanda, then the grave
of a young man who had died of starvation on his way to the refugee
camp.
Places in the Scottish Highlands are also remembered for acts of
violence: the spot where Stewart of Ardvorlich shot a MacDonald
raider, or where the MacGregors decapitated Ardvorlich's
brother-in-law. Around my house in Scotland the Gaelic place-names
record death: "Place of Mourning" or "Field of Weeping." But here the
events recorded were only months old.
They were inflicted not by Russians but by one community on
another. The settlement of Tangia was now only a line of red mud
pillars like giant rotting teeth. The school in Ghar had been
destroyed. Everyone knew the men who did these things. They had
watchem them at it.
On the "new" Afghanistan (pp. 174-175):
The agreement setting up the future shape of Afghanistan had been
signed in Bonn a month earlier. In five months a Loya Jirga assembly
was to choose a new government. Lakhdar Brahimi, the UN Special
Representative running this process, had staffed his Political Affairs
office with some of the most competent expatriates in Afghanistan:
people who spoke Dari or Pashto well, had worked in Afghanistan for
years, and had experience with village culture. But these few people
had to manage the conflicting interests of foreign governments, other
UN agencies, warlords, international organizations, and Afghan
technocrats. They knew too much of the reality on the ground to be
popular with either the new Afghan government or the international
bureaycracy. By the end of the year they had been moved into almost
meaningless jobs.
On the changing of the Taliban (pp. 243-244):
In Herat many war reporters predicted Afghans would hate the
American-led assault on the Taliban. They said the Taliban treatment
of women, the Taliban's use of Sharia law, and their demolition of the
Bamiyan Buddhas had not been unpopular in the villages. The Taliban
were "no crueller" than the Northern Alliance and had improved
security in rural areas. Intervention would simply replace one group
of crooks with another and anger Afghans in the process.
I had indeed found that Tajik and Aimaq communities wee not
entirely opposed to the Taliban. They agreed that security had been
better under the Taliban. Tajik women now wore head scarves in the
village and only put on the full-face burqas to visit town, but no one
objected to the lack of female education under the Taliban or the
imposition of Islamic Sharia law. Seyyed Umar, who had complained the
most about them ("They stole donkeys from me"), turned out to have
been a Taliban commander.
But the Hazara I met were delighted the Taliban had gone, and they
did not resent the Americans for expelling them. Nowhere in
Afghanistan did the cruelty of the Taliban seem so comprehensive or
have such an ethnic focus. In a three-day walk from Yakawlang, where
the Taliban had executed four hundred, to Shaidan, where eighty shop
fronts had been reduced to blackened shells, every Hazara village I
saw had been burned. In each settlement, people had been murdered, the
flocks driven off, and the orchards razed. Most of the villages were
still abandoned.
The Hazara knew little and cared less about the World Trade
Center. But in the short term things had improved for them. They were
freer and more secure; they had some power again; and they were
pleased with their own provincial governor, Khalili.
A footnote on the war reporters: "This may have been becuase many
of them had been in the Balkans and remembered the fury of
anti-Milosevic Serbs over the Kosovo bombing."
A footnote to "policy makers would find it impossible to change
Afghan society in the way they wished to change it" (p. 247-248):
Critics have accused this new breed of administrators of
neocolonialism. But in fact their approach is not that of a
nineteenth-century colonial officer. Colonial administrations may have
been racist and exploitative, but they did at least work seriously at
the business of understanding the people they were governing. They
recruited people prepared to spend their entire careers in dangerous
provinces of a single alien nation. They invested in teaching
administrators and military officers the local language. They
established effective departments of state, trained a local elite, and
continued the countless academic studies of their subjects through
institutes and museums, royal geographical societies, and royal
botanical gardens. They balanced the local budget and generated fiscal
revenue because if they didn't their home government would rarely bail
them out. If they failed to govern fairly, the population would
mutiny.
Postconflict experts have got the prestige without the effort or
stigma of imperialism. Their implicit denial of the difference between
cultures is the new mass brand of international intervention. Their
policy fails but no one notices. There are no credible monitoring
bodies and there is no one to take formal responsibility. Individual
officers are never in any one place and rarely in any one organization
long enough to be adequately assessed. The colonial enterprise could
be judged by the security or revenue it delivered, but neocolonialists
have no such performance criteria. In fact their very uselessness
benefits them. By avoiding any serious action or judgment they, unlike
their colonial predecessors, are able to escape accusations of racism,
exploitation, and oppression.
Perhaps it is because no one requires more than a charming illusion
of action in the developing world. If the policy makers know little
about the Afghans, the public knows even less, and few care about
policy failure when the effects are felt only in Afghanistan.
That first paragraph includes a lot of wistful romantic thinking.
Nineteenth-century colonialists may have been racist and
exploitative? No shit? While the threat of revolt provided a check
on their greed and/or folly, as it still does now, the manageable
containment of revolt isn't much of a metric of success. The 19th
century case may have been better managed in the sense that it was
longer-term profit-seeking, but it also benefitted immeasurably by
happening in the 19th century, when natives had primitive arms and
communications networks, and often didn't understand the full impact
of what the imperialists were up to. That colonialists have fared
much worse in the 20th century can't be wholly chalked up to losing
their skill set.
Stewart later moved on to Iraq, where he tried his hand at running
a chunk of the country for the British. That's the subject of another
book, The Prince of the Marshes: And Other Occupational Hazards
of a Year in Iraq. I haven't read that book yet, but I gather
he didn't do all that well.
posted 2007-07-19
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