We must not turn our backs on the Afghans
Herat is an
ancient city on the Silk Road, originally built around an oasis in a fertile
valley. In present-day Afghanistan it is the gateway to Iran, with a population
of half a million. At the height of Nato combat operations in the country, a
decade ago, I visited Herat to get a glimpse of what this war-torn country
could become: it was peaceful and prosperous, with tree-lined avenues, historic
sites and a bustling industrial estate around its airport. I discussed an
optimistic future with students at the university, including young Afghan women
never allowed to study before.
The hopes of
those students for a more peaceful, tolerant and modern future for their
country made a deep impression on me. They were showing it could be done — this
crossroads of civilisation did not have to be a terrorist haven; it need not
collapse back into civil war or oppression; it could lift itself to a new level
if only we had the will and resources to keep helping it. If only.
But it turns
out we do not have the will, even though the resources required had become
modest. In the last few weeks almost the entire province of Herat has fallen
under the control of the Taliban. Fighting has reached the streets of the city
itself. On Sunday, the Afghan government belatedly flew in reinforcements to
try to defend it, but the border crossings are now providing tax revenue for
the insurgents. The businesses are largely closed. The next generation of
students will be seeing their ambitions snuffed out. The dreams of a better
future are dying.
If Herat
represented the vision of what Afghanistan could be, the fact that it is now
under siege — only four months after President Biden made the terrible error of
announcing that the few thousand remaining US troops would leave the country by
September — illustrates the looming disaster of what it will become instead:
either permanently at war or oppressed by a brutal ideology. It is the same
story in many other places, including in Lashkar Gar, the southern city where
so many British political and military leaders went to proclaim our
determination and solidarity with brave people who aligned themselves with
creating a peaceful and democratic country. As they see the Taliban come down
the street, those people are entitled to feel betrayed.
I wrote in
April in these pages that Joe Biden had made, on this issue, his first big
mistake — that the small US and other Nato forces present there made all the
difference to the fighting confidence of the Afghan army and provided the only
leverage for the Taliban to take seriously the interminable peace talks in
Doha. Since then, the speed and scale of the Taliban advance, to now
controlling around half the country, appears to have taken the White House by
surprise. It should not have done so: if you utterly demoralise your own side
in a war, it should not be in the least bit surprising that they retreat,
abandon weapons, argue among themselves or surrender, all of which have rapidly
begun to happen.
But since
this mistake has been made, and made so firmly that it cannot be reversed —
“America’s longest war is over”, in Biden’s emphatic words — is there any point
in going on about it? Can’t we just put it down as one unfortunate error by a
president who, in world affairs, is getting most things right? Don’t we just
have to close our minds to the fate of those young people in Herat and realise
we can’t do everything we might want to do? And isn’t this a popular move
anyway, to get out of drawn-out wars, that also allows the US to get on with
focusing on a geopolitical contest with China?
Unfortunately,
the short attention span of the western mind does not mean we will be allowed
to forget about what we have done. The ease of the Taliban advance carries four
important lessons and implications for Washington, London and allied capitals.
The first is
that we will have even greater obligations to the people we have abandoned as
they seek refuge from death and persecution. The British government has already
recognised this by accelerating the bringing to safety of former interpreters
and other staff who worked with our armed forces. Last week, however, five
former chiefs of the defence staff and dozens of other former officers wrote
that “the policy is not being conducted with the necessary spirit of generosity
required to protect our former colleagues from an indiscriminate and resurgent
Taliban”, saying urgent action is needed to save more people “who saved
countless British lives”. It is not Britain’s fault that this crisis is
developing so quickly, since it is quite clear that ministers have been
horrified by the US decision. But we are left with moral responsibilities that
now must be honoured.
Second, it is
not too late to avert a complete collapse in Afghanistan if Biden permits
continued air strikes and special forces operations, albeit from much less
convenient bases in other countries. This would almost certainly be too much
for the president to swallow: the war would not be over after all. Yet as the
refugees grow in number, women’s rights are suppressed and ultimately the risk
of terrorist bases in Afghanistan re-emerges, the White House may well find
that the popularity of this withdrawal evaporates.
Third and
crucially, it is vital not to make the same mistake elsewhere. Oddly enough,
Biden has adopted a very different approach in Iraq, agreeing to keep limited
US forces there. That is inconsistent but right. But President Macron recently
announced the drawing down of French forces fighting Islamist insurgencies
across Africa, leaving the West without any coherent strategy for containing
the mounting threats. In Mali, Niger, Nigeria and Mozambique, for example,
extremist groups are gaining ground. They will be encouraged by the news from
Afghanistan, and one day they will erupt as a new, violent threat.
The fourth
lesson is longer term. The strategic contest with China is primarily about
ideas, not territory. It is therefore global, not confined to one location like
the South China Sea. When we go to great lengths, spending tens of billions of
dollars and losing thousands of lives among Nato forces, to allow those
students I met in Herat to share our ideas of freedom, it is a terrible error
subsequently to abandon them to their fate. It leaves the western idea lacking
strength, constancy and credibility: a strange position to adopt when
simultaneously increasing support for Taiwan.