Accents and The Guard

In the Army, accents tend to soften and morph into some sort of middle ground of blunt, directive bursts of military terms, acronyms and cursing that becomes an accent all its own. However, not all regional American accents can be tamed, and in the National Guard, these local accents find a home of there own. I recently saw a post from a French Infantryman's blog, which had been translated into English. In his post, he notes the mix of American accents he had to deal with saying, 'They have a very strong American accent - the language they speak seems to be not even English. How many times did I have to write down what I wanted to say rather than waste precious minutes trying various pronunciations of a seemingly common word? Whatever state they are from, no two accents are alike and they themselves admit that in some crisis situations they have difficulties understanding each other.' (The rest of the post is a good read as well, and you can read the whole thing here: http://nakedliberty.com/2010/12/a-french-infantrymans-view-of-american-soldiers/)
In my recent travels I ran into several more examples of our struggles to communicate with coalition partners, due to strong and varying US accents as well as the accents of our coalition partners. While visiting a base with a mix of Australians and Alabama national guard, this clash was brought to the forefront, during a conversation with a collection of US and Australian soldiers.
A short female sergeant with a thick Alabama accent was recounting a phone conversation she had with her Australian counterpart. After asking him to repeat himself several times, she said 'I told him, I can't understand a single fucking word you have said to me.' She was later told that the Australian soldier told a coworker that 'nobody talks to me like that but my wife.' Now whenever she calls, if he answers he just hands the phone off to an American in the office.
An Australian soldier recounted a similar tale in which he took a call from a US counterpart. "He said, 'Blah, blah, blah. I didn't quite catch it but replied, 'Blah, blah, blah.' and then he told me he couldn't understand what I was saying. I told him, well I can't understand you either, so there's no real point in us talking mate. Click." He said, as he motioned hanging up the phone. "He didn't appreciate that much, and called right back."
The conversation then turned to what the collection of guardsmen did back home when the were not deployed. A baby faced young Specialist said back home he works at a waste water treatment plant. Here in Afghanistan, he worked for a time at Kandahar Airfield, where the waste water plant is near the middle to the base and if the breeze is wrong it smothers the base it it's funk and can choke you out if you get to close. He said most people complained about the smell, 'But it didn't bother me none. Smells like money to me.' He is a generator mechanic, by trade, but when I spoke to him he was the night shift for a satellite communications office. I noted how challenging that must be and he said, "If I get a call I just tell them, 'Everyone is asleep, but I can wake them up or it can wait 'til morning.' I can't complain though, because I'm getting paid pretty good to answer the phone."
Another soldier 'moonlighting' as a satellite communications specialist, works as a trucker for a steel manufacturing and constructions company. His laid back Alabama twang, and slight beer belly under broad shoulders gave him an air that seemed like it would fit better behind the wheel of a big rig, than in an air conditioned server room in the middle of Afghanistan. But just like the French soldier noted in his blog: 'Here we discover America as it is often depicted: their values are taken to their paroxysm, often amplified by the loneliness of this outpost in the middle of that Afghan valley. Honor, motherland – everything here reminds of that: the American flag floating in the wind above the outpost, just like the one on the postage parcels... And that is a first shock to our preconceptions: the American soldier is no individualist. The team, the group, the combat team are the focus of all his attention.'
Although the Guard soldiers have the same team ethos as the regular Army, they are unique for both the variety of fields they come from outside their military specialties, and also for the adaptability they bring to the mission. They often get parcelled out across the battle space to support regular Army units as small sections or as individual augmentees to strengthen the man power within a regular Army unit. Their broad range of skills and professional backgrounds often prove very useful in the unique mission sets they fill in a counter insurgency as well. For example, I worked with a Michigan unit (yet another unique American accent) who are supporting an Agricultural Development mission, which would be a tough mission for the regular Army that specializes in war fighting. However a guard unit brings soldiers into the mission that specialize in business and agriculture, when they are not in uniform, and those skills prove invaluable to the mission.

Courting in Kandahar

I ran into 'Tariq' again, at a busy intersection of foot traffic and shops on base today. You may remember Tariq from my earlier post in which we had discussed the future of Afghanistan as the coalition withdrawal looms. Rather than politics, this time we pulled off the side of the path and chatted like old friends reunited, catching up on personal lives and work, enjoying the breeze and pleasant spring temperatures as they cooled with the setting sun.

Tariq, like any ambitious young man is hoping for a promotion soon, and if he is unable to move up, he is considering moving back home, to open up some commercial properties he has invested in. I asked if he might try to get another job with the coalition closer to home, but he thought the distance was safer for him and his family and helped him focus on the job at hand. He also said that some of his Kandahar friends that work closer to home have actually moved their families to Kabul in order to keep them safe and prevent threats being made that could prevent them from doing their job. I was surprised, because I had assumed he would want to be closer to home, and it seemed strange to have a 'local' who was essentially deployed within his own country, but that is the reality for many of the 'local' workers and security forces.

After catching up with our professional lives we then moved onto personal relationships. I told him I was still single and not looking, which is nearly unheard of for a man my age in Afghanistan. He informed me that there was now a girl on his horizon. However, he has little to do with the developing relationship, because it is actually his mother who has been busy trying to find him a wife. Since we last spoke, his mother has reportedly found him a beautiful, educated and conservative nurse that works in Kandahar.

Our discussion reminded me of a Seinfeld episode, in which Jerry and Elaine are trying to hook George up with a friend of Elaine's. Jerry spends the episode discussing the girl with George and getting all the details about what George wants in a woman, and Elaine is busy doing the same with her friend, trying to paint George in the best light possible.
'He's bald?!'
'No! Not bald. Balding.'
'But he's going to be bald.'
'.... Yeah'

However, in Pashtu culture things work a little differently. Discussions of looks are not a priority and the couple being matched are never actually directly involved in these discussions, rather family members act as intermediaries. He said in Kabul the groom might actually visit the potential brides family, but that is considered quite cosmopolitan, and too western for even the big city of Kanadahar. In Kandahar, families will 'shop around' for brides or grooms for their children; and if a potential match is found, the family will then propose the match to members of the other family.

I asked if he would get to see the girl or picture of her; and he said he probably won't, and asking for a picture would be a bit too bold as well. But in a modern twist of globalization and social media, he said she will likely be able to find many pictures of him thanks to Facebook. Meanwhile, he said her family was concerned about his work and how it may keep him away from the family. He said they were a traditional and close knit family, and she would be unlikely to move away from Kandahar and her family. It was quite interesting to see what lengths the families went to in order to find out more about the other's child, in their tap dance of traditions and tribal norms, which prevented them from broaching any question too directly.

Although the two may never meet in the courting process, and may not even meet the other family, they can still be very involved in the process and fairly resourceful in gathering information about their possible match. Tariq told me that he has asked his mother to visit the girl's mother and tell him how she keeps her kitchen, and disciplines her children. However, even peaking in the kitchen seemed a bit too personal and his mother did not want to overstep her social bounds.

He also said, he wanted his mother to ask around with friends and possibly even the girls neighbors to find out more about the family. For one, he said noisy neighbors who fight or argue are considered lower class, and he would not want to marry into that kind of family. He said that parents and husbands in Pashtun culture are too quick to raise a hand in violence in disciplining kids or wives. He said this abuse, and concealing women, are both distortions of Islam in Afghan culture, and reminded him of a quote from Muhammad Abduh, a religious scholar, who said, 'I went to the West and saw Islam, but no Muslims; I got back to the East and saw Muslims, but not Islam.'

Throughout our conversation, he kept noting that each of these obscure methods of match making and gathering information were things people did in the city, so I asked if it would be different in the villages, and he was very definitive with his yes. In Pashtun villages, where resources and family wealth is limited, children often become one of the few commodities available to the family. They are bartered as brides or grooms to friends, or to resolve a dispute of honor, or even seal business deal. Sometimes these pacts are made before a child is even born, and often a groom is promised, in hopes that the pact may bring the son they desire. In the village both the bride and groom are told who they will marry, while in the city they at least play a role in the search for their match.

The extensive research and family involvement also underlie the importance the decision has in the culture where divorce is not an option. It reminds me of a quote from War and Peace, which I happen to be reading at the moment. Prince Andrei is a newly wed and about the head off to war. Instead of dreading the separation from his wife, he is actually looking forward to regaining his independance and pursuing the masculine adventures of combat. Recognizing his son's outlook his father says, 'They're all like that; one can't unmarry.' Such sentiment is lost in the western world of divorce and 28 day celebrity marriages, but in Afghanistan, marriage is still viewed as a 'til death do us part' commitment, and getting it right is a family affair.

In my travels I've learned that social norms that seem so logical, concrete and timeless from within, can be very illogical, unfounded and foreign to the rest of the world. Though I try to remain open to the cultures of the places I visit, I am glad I enjoy the cultural norms of the west. At the same time, Tariq also seems happy with his lot; and he is rich with life and social insight. He happily shares his wealth with me, in our conversations, and I, a traveling trader of tales and culture, am always quick to collect and treasure these conversations as I build my global empire of experiences.

Southern China on Rice Wine

In Hong Kong, I had my first of six tour guide changes on my Beijing to Bali tour. Our new tour leader, Peter, was a short Chinese guy, with an athletic build, round jovial face and black hair with a Patrick Swayze wave. In his initial introduction, he came off with an air of formality and business, with a dab of Drill Sergeant, speaking of Chinese language drills and harsh living conditions ahead. Each stop on the upcoming journey seemed to have it's share of undesirable conditions. Large Spiders at one followed by no showers and outhouses at the home-stay. And every leg in between sounded just as bad... 20 hours on a train here, a day on buses there, and forced marches in between. By the end of our meeting most of us were dreading the next leg of our journey, which sounded more like travails than travel let alone tourism. It also left us wondering how our guide got a job in tourism and guest relations, but I guess he wasn't a candidate for travel sales either.

Despite the fair warning, everyone still made it to the early morning meet up in the lobby for our departure, though I'm not sure if anyone realized we'd be traveling for the next 30 hours! Our journey began with a quick taxi ride to the bus station. We were going to be traveling all day and had extra Hong Kong dollars to spend before returning to main land China, so we picked up snacks before boarding our first bus. This was the first of three, and took us out of congested concrete jungle of downtown Hong Kong and to the Hong Kong/China immigration checkpoint that seemed to mark the end of the dense urban landscape. (Since Hong Kong is a Special Administrative Region, it actually requires a separate Visa, and in order to return to China you need to have a multiple entry visa.) We unloaded, passed through avian flu screening (a quick check for fever), immigration, and on to the next bus. Somewhere along the way we switched buses yet again, then transferred to a metro, and finally arrive at the train station in the afternoon.

Train stations are always interesting when traveling in the developing world. The crowds always seem slightly too large for the departures available, and the crowd has a very transient feel. Although it may be the first leg of some passengers journey, the station always feels more like mix between transient shelter and terminal. Families are huddled together, protecting what may be all their worldly possessions. While other awaiting passengers are sprawled out on the cold concrete floors asleep, making it difficult to tell whether they have been waiting a few hours or a few days. And the crowds make it feel like something must be awry. Either trains are all late, or cancelled, or overbooked. Our group trudged in with the same travel worn lethargy and staked claim to some real estate, dropped our bags and found something quick to eat, before the next leg of the journey.

Like a slow moving glacier the train terminal crowds never seemed to swell or dwindle, but eventually our section cleaved and broke away from the crowd in a fast moving mass flowing down to recollect in front of the train ready for boarding. We boarded the sleeper cars, and filed past the partially filled compartments. The compartments have no doors and each is a snapshot as you pass. A family crowded together sharing dinner on the nightstand size table. A collection of strangers uncomfortably fumbling about the crowded sleeping space for six. And us, stumbling down the narrow passage with our over sized bags, hoping we won't end up fighting off locals that have staked claims to our compartment. Fortunately our compartments were empty and we settled in for the long haul.

We awoke the next morning to a misty landscape of green hills and river crossings as our rolling hotel chugged into the tribal regions of southern China. Our destination was Xijiang, but despite the 24 hours of travel thus far, we were not there yet. The train pulled into Kaili, where we met our local guide Louisa. She was a bundle of energy and a stark contrast to our road weary crew. We boarded a final bus, and headed into the hills. Leaving the crowded urban jungle of city lights and skyscrapers in Hong Kong, to return to the small agricultural villages and open rolling green hills, was almost startling. The contrasts between the Special Economic Zones and the poor rural interior is almost like traveling back in time, and it is hard to believe the two economic structures are able to coexist in relative close proximity in the same country. Though the country does struggle with the migration to the cities already, one has to wonder how or if the nation will find some middle ground and middle class to fill the deep but narrow chasm between the current classes.

Our bus headed further into rural China, hugging a river, up the valley, and deeper into the hills until we arrived at Xijiang. The village is home to the Miao people, pronounced Meow. Meow let me give you a little history or the Miao people and village. The village is an Autonomous Region for the Miao people who meow make up 99.5% of the population. (according to the government sign at the entrance.) Meow, I don't know what the village looked like before, but it has been a 'key protection and construction ethnic village since 1999... Xijiang Embroidery,' and meow it a picturesque village of well kept timber frame homes, shining with fresh lacquer. In addition, the main street is a cobblestone of polished river stones laid in geometric designs and the shops, open air food court, and courtyard for daily demonstrations of cultural song and dance, give the place a bit of a cultural theme park feel. You almost wonder if the residents are going about there daily lives or acting a part in a grand cultural performance... moving along meow.

Our host met us in the parking lot on the edge of the village and led us up the hillside on narrow walks, stairs and small canal bridges until we arrived at the guesthouse with a balcony overlooking the rest of the village and valley below. After a collective sigh of relief, having finally arrived, we dropped our bags and reconvened to return to the village center for some lunch at a town square that doubled as a food court set up like a county fair, packed with small kitchens on wheel, tent canopies and picnic benches. After lunch Louisa led us on a short tour of the village. She was bouncing down the road, mumbling lines to 'Apple Bottom Jeans by T-Pain. 'Boots with the fur The whole club was lookin at her. She hit the flo, Next thing you know. Shorty got low low low low low low low low ...' And we were all feeling lazy from lunch, and doing our best to keep up.

We wondered up main street and stopped for group photos on a covered bridge of ornate woodwork. Despite our digital age where one picture could have been e-mailed to everyone, we decided to hang 13 digital camera's off of Louisa's arms and neck, and pose for 13 separate group photo's, so everyone would have their own version of the event. After photos, we followed the rice fields out of town, as farmers worked the fields with old bulls pulling tills through the mud.

After our hike we returned to the town center to watch a performance of local dances in traditional tribal attire. Each dance had it's own unique set of brightly colored dresses and impressive silver head dresses necklaces or breastplates. During the last dance number, the men played flutes that looked like saxophones, made of bamboo and they courted the ladies. The only menacing cloud in the sky broke and rain poured down on the open square making the stone reflect the dancing crew like a polished marble floor.

Fortunately the rains ended on que at the end of the performance, and we returned to our guesthouse to relax before dinner. Dinner was followed by our introduction to the local rice wine. The women of the house came out all dressed in matching traditional blouses of bright pink with a diagonal sash of an embroidered floral design and their hair was pulled up and decorated with matching pink flower. They sang a song that went something like, 'Welcome to our village, we are glad you came, we don't have much to offer, but we do have rice wine, so drink up.' At the end they would tip up a small bowl/shot glass to someones lips and then sing the song again and tip up the glass for the next guest. Or in some cases, they refilled and fed another round to the same guest, much to the amusement of the rest of the crowd.

This brings us to the breaking of the towns rule number twelve: 'Tourists cannot get drunk, fight, gamble, or be involved in superstitious or pornographic activities in the tourist areas.' Meow, I don't know how many times we sang, second verse same as the first, but we polished off the pot of rice wine and then stumbled down the hill into town to discover an underground karaoke bar. The karaoke tunes were not the traditional songs of daylight hours in the town square, and the participants were not in traditional garb... I'm not sure if they were locals, or tourists like us, but we were the only non-Chinese in the crowd. The joint was an eclectic mix of wooden benches with stage coach style wheel as decorative ends, tucked in a room painted up in a Tuscan style paint job complimented with fake grape vines tangled in a wooden screen that covered the ceiling.

I was the first in the group to take the stage and belted out at least one song before someone informed me the mic was not turned on. Not having the mic on was probably best for everyone, and my stage presence was still entertaining the crowd. A few tipsy fans even came up to toast me during my ballad. Or, they could have been trying to take the mic away, but the way I remember it they were all smiles and 'Ghan Bays!' (cheers). The evening progressed or digressed, based on perspective, and we ended the night shot-gunning beers with the locals before the lights went out.

Louisa had joined us at at the karaoke bar, and still the next morning she was her usual bundle of bubbly energy, ready to charge up hill out of the valley, on our trek to the village of Maliao. For the rest of us, suffering the side effects of rice wine, this felt more like a forced march. In addition, there had been some confusion about breakfast, and we ended up marching out of town on empty stomachs. The hike took us over two large hills and we stopped in the central valley in a small village of about 20 homes and one small convenient store to buy something for breakfast. The store had barren shelves and little selection, especially for finicky western diners like ourselves. However, after a short conversation amongst the locals and our guides we found ourselves in the second floor living room of one of the locals. They graciously prepared boiled eggs and instant coffee for our group and we shared the coffee in an over sized tin mug squatting on child sized seats. The whole scene felt a bit comical and got us out of our early morning funk and back on the road for the hike up the last hill into our home stay village of Maliao.

Maliao felt more like a hill station town, with the homes almost built into the mountainside, and with the overcast skies and valley heavy with moisture, it felt like the village climbed into the clouds. Our host was the village king/mayor and though this stay was one of the stops Peter had warned us about, our host had recently remodeled, and now had some nice showers and plumbing in the 'out-house.' In addition the ladies in the group were staying in some decent rooms on the second level overlooking the valley. However, the guys were escorted down to what I can only describe as an unfinished basement/ storage area, with a single light bulb dangling from a wire in the center of the ceiling... the beds seemed nicely made and were almost out of place amongst the rest of the pots pans and other piled clutter. Our other option was to sleep in the living room floor and benches on the second level, and we opted for that.

We were starving but the family had a large dinner planned and the lady of the house was already wrapped up in the preparations. They did however set us up with some noodles to tide us over, which we ate while watching 'Charlie Wilson's War.' Kind of random and out of place but we rolled with it. We then took another short hike around the village, to take our mind off our appetites, and to allow our hosts to prepare the living/dining room for our feast. When we returned the living room had been transformed and now had a long dining table in the center and a separate head table at the end forming a 'T.' The table had all settings in place and the center was crowded with a tempting spread of Chinese cuisine, but our grumbling stomachs were left to stew on their own juices for what felt like ages as we awaited our host and about five generations of his family who joined us for dinner at the head table.

The meal was delicious and the dishes just kept coming, but it seemed like we could not fill the void created by the day of hiking. As we ate we were also fed shots of the local rice wine, which was served warm and had a pleasant flavor of nuts and oak. As dinner wrapped up the wine continued to flow and soon the group was growing rowdy and the international language of slurred speech had us convinced we all understood each other.
The rounds continued, songs were sung, toasts were made and the crowd grew merrier. At some point the conversation drifted into the hosts rice fields that needed tending early the next morning. In hindsight, I suppose they may have been trying to drop clues that we really ought to call it a night, but in our jolly state we took it as an invitation. And, we found it extraordinarily appealing. Though we could hardly keep our eyes open, we were fully prepared to commit to a six A.M. wake up to wade into the rice fields and plant some rice. More drinks were had to seal the deal. And the rest of the night had to be pieced together using photos and videos, a few of which could possibly be used for blackmail.

One of the girls broke into a strip tease as she was preparing for bed. What the show lacked in both balance and grace, she made up for with a streaming commentary about how good the she was doing... As an encore, she followed the show up with a two hour purging session that probably reviewed our meals as far back as yesterday's breakfast.

Another one of the guys wondered off, which was actually typical in his case. However, we never figured out where he went, and we can only assume he set out to get an early start on the rice farming, because he was found the next morning, asleep on a narrow wooden bench still dressed from the day before, and covered in mud.

I reportedly spent the evening trying to charm Louisa, and woke up next to Ollie on the floor with no recollection of how we got there, where the tables had gone, or how they were replaced with bedding. I couldn't help but notice that a layer of plastic had been laid down as well, I can only suspect our hosts had little confidence in our ability to hold down our rice wine.

Ollie woke up wondering where his baseball cap was and found it on our host son's head as we were leaving town. He had apparently given it to him as a gift, possibly to seal the deal on the rice farming. However, seeing as none of us made it out the the fields at six in the morning, to include the host and his family, the hat was returned, and we did the walk of shame out of town and onto our bus bound for Guiying.

As I reflected back on our rice wine debacle, I wondered if Confucious, might have some wise words of warning about the spirits. I did a quick Google search, and apparently his advice is drink up, because he now has his own line of "Confucian-style Liquor, a quality high-grade specific style of Confucius Family different from all traditional-style Chinese liquor...with its elegant noble quality, this product shall be the real treasures of Chinese liquor." Who knew? Possibly more fitting I found the Chinese proverb: "Talk doesn't cook rice." True, and rice wine promises don't plant it either.

Free Press in a Counter Insurgency

I wanted to break away from blogging about Afghanistan for a while, but the reporting on recent events has me frustrated and I feel I cannot just let it slide. The news coverage of the recent massacre of innocent Afghans has re-affirmed some of my concerns with both the free press and the US military's public affairs. America's founding father's recognized the power and importance of free press in a free and democratic society, and it is one of the things that has made our nation great. Our three branches of government -- judicial, executive and legislative -- were created as a system of checks and balances to maintain the democracy and the free press is one more check on governance.

However, in today's world of 24 hour commercial news enterprise, the press has lost sight of it's mission to provide non-biased reporting. Instead, every story is stretched with commentary to fill time and appeal to a specific demographic audience. The closest they get to un-biased is being critical of everything. In addition, a culture of seeking fault in government, and by extension the military, has become pervasive and is further exacerbated by news outlets drive to draw viewers by creating controversy out of every event they cover. One of my favorite movie quotes -- from the most unlikely of sources, 'From Dusk 'til Dawn' -- is, 'It isn't a big deal, until you make it a big deal.' I think I am often on the side of failing to make things a big deal, but our news media have decided it is their job to make everything a big deal.

In the military's defense, it is often the 'strategic corporal' that defeats the efforts of the organization at large. In the past week the 'strategic corporal' was a staff sergeant, who I believe must have cracked, having spent the last eight years deployed or preparing for the next deployment. On his last deployment, he suffered a traumatic brain injury, was returned to duty but had trouble re-adjusting back home; and on this deployment he reportedly was having trouble with family, prior to walking off the base alone, in the middle of the night, dressed in local clothing. Whether, leadership saw and did not act on warning signs remains to be seen, and why he was allowed to leave the base is a significant point of contention, but I suspect no one could have predicted the actions he would take. Regardless, his actions are inexcusable, he should be punished, and he currently faces a possible death penalty.

That said, he is one in 100,000 Soldiers, but it is his actions that have caught the media's eye, while the rest are quietly and professionally carrying out the mission. The majority have a similar back story, with multiple deployments, and troubles on the home front, with family and/or a society that largely fails to recognize the toll 10 years constant deployments has on the individual soldiers. Robert H Scales, a retired General and Vietnam veteran, recently wrote an opinion piece on this incident, and he noted observing the deployment fatigue that has set in across the force. He noted, 'The infantrymen I spoke to at Fort Benning were different from those in my generation. They were more emotionally exhausted and drained, less spontaneous and humorless... These guys seemed to view their time in combat as endless and repetitive. My sense is that their collective, intimate exposure to the horrors of close combat was far more debilitating than what we experienced. ' These individual sacrifices, hardships and triumphs are lost in the media coverage that largely only brushes the surface of the conflicts in their struggle to hold the public's ever shortening attention span. Rather than meaningful insight, they end up quantifying the conflict in 90 seconds or less with the most recent losses and the total tally on the body count.

The media's over simplified 'body count analysis,' and focus on the tragedy of Sunday's events, is not the only thing that frustrates me. They also failed to note the fact that the injured went to the American bases, not to Afghan security forces or local hospitals or clinics. Despite the fact that the attacker was an American soldier, the locals still trusted, and sought help from Americans, who provided first aid and medevac'd the survivors. This part of the story has been neglected by the media, and not covered well by military public affairs either. However, I suppose this too can be construed as a failure, as it also highlights the lack of confidence the Afghans have in their own infrastructure and security forces.

Still, it is sad that these facts have remained overlooked even as the story has held the headline for three days, as the media lives by its creed, 'If it bleeds, it leads.' However, I was also shocked by the statistics they have chosen to tie to the event in order to bring 'new details' to the story every few hours. On Wednesday, in a news brief about the event, the reporter closed with a statistic on visa requests and the increasing numbers of Afghan's trying to leave the country. Though it is true that Afghans are beginning to flee the country, and requests for Visa's are up 20 percent, that long term trend has nothing to do with the soldiers actions on Sunday. I believe the trend has much more to do with the Afghan's fears about the reduction of US forces, not the actions or presence of US forces. The reporters use of the statistic was not only out of context, but also irresponsible and only serves to further complicate the situation and draw further doubt in the coalition actions in the country.

The Quran burning, appears to be an example of a much larger failure of leadership by the military supervisors at the detainment facility. In that case, it is reported that 1600 books were identified as having communications and other extremist messages inscribed as prisoners were using the reading material provided to the to pass messages among themselves as well as to outside sources as the material was cycled through the prison by a local supplier. Forty-eight of these books were Qurans and there were other religious material being used as well. In this case the military had an excellent opportunity to bring this defacement of the Quran and other religious texts to both the government and people of Afghanistan to demonstrate the disrespect the prisoners and insurgency has toward the Quran and religion, which they profess they defend.

Although burning the Quran, is a method of disposal, it is the least preferred and was not handled by proper religious authorities, and Allahs name was most likely not removed as religious custom dictates. The military leadership, no matter how junior, should have recognized the risks with burning the Quran, especially after the highly publicized concerns over the planned burning of a Quran by Pastor Terry Jones in Florida. Instead, the military leadership failed to recognize the opportunity to discredit the insurgency, or to handle the disposal properly, and the military further failed to get ahead of the story once the mistake was made. These failures led to mass protests, attacks and the deaths of six US servicemen, over 30 Afghans, and injured many more.

The military's relationship with the media has changed over time, and just as the military often trains for the last conflict, they have also remained slightly behind the ball as they try to keep up with the ever changing relationship with the media, and how that relationship differs in counter-insurgency verses conventional conflict. In a conventional conflict, you have two legitimate states fighting using uniformed forces. For both the military and the press, lines are easier to draw and the conflict easier to define. In a counter insurgency, identifying and defining the enemy is much more difficult for both the soldier and the journalist. However, in a counter-insurgency the media plays a much greater role, because the fight is no longer about attrition of forces or control of terrain. Instead, it is about 'the hearts and minds,' and more a war of perception than attrition. And in this war, the story the media covers or the angle it chooses on that story can sway the populace and win or lose the battle.

I don't know if our media recognizes their role and influence, but I do know that the insurgency understands the power of information warfare, and they have been beating us at this game. I may be too close to the story to be un-bias myself, but in the end, I think free press is critical in both a free society and in warfare. However, I also believe that the press needs to take greater consideration in the ramifications of the coverage they provide and effects it has in counter-insurgency.

Good Chat and Good Luck

While on one of my many trips around Afghanistan, I had the opportunity to talk with a local from Kandahar city. He had a warm and welcoming persona and a quick smile. He is a clean shaven 29 year old, but he has the thick, dark five o-clock shadow common in the middle east. His black hair was well kept, parted slightly off center, with a natural wave that tapered down to clean cut sideburns. He had a solid athletic frame and stood about 5-10.

We were roommates in a open bay tent that had been partitioned into half hazard rooms using bunks, and curtains of blankets, sheets and cardboard. I was a transient, but for him, the tent was home for the foreseeable future. He was happy with the tent and noted that although it was loud with the generator right outside, it was less crowded for the same reason. After a short chat about living conditions, we transitioned to current affairs, and I was curious to hear his perspective on the looming withdrawal of US forces. I will call him Tariq, since I did not ask if I could share his story, and the fact that he has a family to protect here in Afghanistan.

Tariq had a history similar to many who fled the country during the Russian conflict and ensuing civil war. His family fled to Pakistan like so many others, however they were able to avoid the refugee camps, because they were fortunate enough to have family in Pakistan who provided them housing until they got on their financial feet. His father had died, I did not pursue the cause, but most likely he was lost in the fighting. Fortunately, his mother had three young sons to help support her, since the patriarchal society of the region provides little chance for a single mother to find work or support a family.

Another significant advantage to not ending up in refugee camps, is he also was able to get a secular education rather than a religious education in one of the many Madrasas that cater to the refugee camps. Although, some are better than others, many of the madrasas have extremist views and are breeding grounds for the foot soldiers of the Taliban and Mujaheddin. Tarig was able to go on to graduate High School, before his family returned to Kandahar in 2004, shortly after the Taliban had fallen from power. His two older brothers also finished school and even pursued advance degrees. One is now in the medical field doing well, and the other is an administrator in a cousins business, as well as keeping up his own small business with a storefront in the local Kandahar market.

Meanwhile, Tariq quickly found work with the coalition and has been working in different position across the southern provinces of Kandahar, Uruzgon and Zabul for the past eight years. In addition, he has also found time to pursue and earn his bachelors degree. Like young American soldiers thrust into role of nation building, with little exposure to theories, geo-politics, local culture, and many other factors that go into the effort, Tariq has found himself advising coalition leadership on local tribal culture and politics. 'I never liked politics or the classes in school, but now I find myself very wrapped up in it all.' he told me. Chance and circumstance has led Tariq down a road he never would have foresaw, but now he has become an adviser in the efforts to tie local tribal groups into village and district politics as well improve the relationship between provincial and national governance. He has a positive attitude and outlook and seems driven to excel in his unexpected role.

I asked him how he felt about the upcoming withdrawal and whether the country was ready. Having worked as a political adviser, I think he has picked up the habit of politically correct answers. He said, 'If the security forces show improvements and the political infrastructure improves the cooperation, communication and support between local and national governance, than I think the transition will be successful.' His answer was a major if, and I prodded him further. He acknowledged that current improvements in security are insufficient and the political infrastructure and logistical support have not been established.

I then told him that in my travels, I have found that corruption is possibly the greatest hindrance to development in a country. He agreed that this was a significant problem in Afghanistan, and as an example he talked about the presidential elections. He said the first election was probably the most fair, but the second election was decided by money and ballot box stuffing. He told me he believed the Hazari presidential candidate should be president because he was the only candidate who's votes were legitimate, not bought. This was very surprising to me, because the Hazari people are the most identifiable minority in Afghanistan, they are clustered in the mountains of Bamiyan province in the center of the country, have closer genealogical ties to Genghis Khan than most Mongols and therefore look more Asian, rather than middle eastern, and they are the only Shia people in an otherwise Sunni Afghanistan. Yet, as a Pashtu -- the majority ethnic group -- Tariq was willing to concede this fact to make his point. He further claimed that the people or rural Afghanistan do not even understand democracy or voting and most votes are cast for local tribal leaders rather than any single candidate at the national level.

He went on to tell me that Afghanistan is 'no where' right now. A country with a long history of feudalism under the Shah, or king, and loosely subordinate tribal leaders ruling smaller regions of the country. This system had it's own history of turmoil and overthrows, but over time the country of diverse tribes established national identity. As a crossroads of international trade the region has had its share of both riches passing through as well as outside interests looking to control the trade routes and region, from Alexander the Great, to Genghis Khan, to the British, and finally the Russians who led to the fall of the king and Feudal system.

The Russians brought socialism and the country began to learn and re-organize itself under this system for 10 years. This experiment failed, and the warlords that ensured it's failure then began to fight over territory and power, and civil war further broke down social structure. Next came the Taliban, who tried to create a Islamic Republic based on Sharia law. Although Islam has a significant place in the culture of the nation, the Taliban's extreme interpretation and enforcement was not popular with the majority of the population. Finally, the US and International Security Assistance Forces (ISAF) came in and introduce both democracy and capitalism. Again, the people of Afghanistan had to adjust to a new social structure. This recent and short history of tectonic shifts in social-political structure has left the nation somewhere in between, lost in the middle of both the physical and socio-economic rubble of instability. A melting pot of Tajiks, Hazari, Pashtu, Uzbec and other small Nomadic sub-groups has cooled and separated as the fire of nationalism has been doused by a fire hose of international influence and political theory.

As we wrapped up our conversation, I wanted to leave on a hopeful note of nationalism, despite the otherwise bleak assessment. I told him I hoped for the best for Afghanistan, and soon it would be in charge of it's own destiny. Once ISAF has left the nation would be able to establish it's own path and a true democracy of the people rather than one influence by the cultures of the international assistance force. Tariq shocked me, and rather than agreeing said, 'Those who talk of independence can go to hell. Afghanistan has been under the thumb of bigger powers for so long that it can no longer stand alone. We do not have the security forces, money or influence to be independent.' The country no longer has an infrastructure to operate independently and as the poorest nation in the world, lacks the money to build that infrastructure or to tap it's own vast mineral resources. Although I have studied the situation enough to know this sad reality, I was not expecting to hear it from Tariq. I expected the politically charged optimism he started our conversation with, and maybe some nationalistic pride in the possibilities of self-determination. Instead, I got a dose of a reality many Afghans recognize, and lived with during the lean years of civil conflict in the nineties, after the international interest and funding for the proxy battles of the cold war era had dried up.

Sadly, I think the last ten plus years of international effort may still prove fruitless as we move into the endgame. Already the timeline has been set for all coalition forces to be out by 2014 and only a small US contingent of 10,000 slated to remain. In addition, the combat role would end at the end of this year, with a complete transition to an advise and assist role. With the recent increase in attacks on coalition forces by their Afghan partner force personnel, this position also seems tenuous. Especially after the last week of multiple attacks by Afghan Security Forces in retaliation for the Quran burning, which killed six US Soldiers and wounded several more. Already, this paints a bleak picture for Tariq's big 'if' for the improvement of the security situation, but wait it gets worse.

In addition to the draw down of coalition forces, the US also plans to draw down Afghan security forces. At a time when we plan to transition to an advise and assist role, one would assume the opposite would be the case. However, since the US is footing the bill to pay the Afghan forces, the force of 352,000, at a cost of 11.2 billion a year is going to be cut to 230,000 by 2014, in order to save the US taxpayer seven billion dollars. This means that in less than two years, the combined coalition/Afghan security footprint of half a million will be cut to 240,000 in the next two years. To further hinder the possibility of success, what was a 30/70 mix of coalition to Afghan forces will drop to only 5 percent coalition, which will no longer be in a security role. Also lost, but often overlooked is the vast logistical support network the coalition established. What will remain to secure the country is a young Afghan force with limited training and an under developed supply/support backbone. Meanwhile, 120,000 of their counterparts, with the same coalition provided military skill sets, will be unemployed and looking for a way to put food on the table.

Although the two theaters have there differences, security concerns are the same in Iraq and Afghanistan. In Iraq, one of the biggest contributors to the insurgency was Paul Bremer's decision to disband all military and police forces, because they were Saddam loyalists as part of the Ba'ath party. This left the predominantly Sunni military and security trained personnel without a job, and ripe for recruitment into the insurgency, which is where many of them turned. This mistake was remedied during 'the surge' period at the end of the conflict by creating the Sunni Awakening, a local security force initiative in the Sunni regions of the country. The Sunni Awakening effort gave the locals not only an alternative to working for the insurgency, but support in countering that insurgency that also allowed them to put bread on the table.

Now we find ourselves repeating 'the surge' in Afghanistan, but rather than increasing security forces, we plan to put them out of work. Furthermore, we have laid out all these plans AHEAD OF negotiations with the Taliban. Rather than entering negotiations from a position of power with time on our sides, we have entered them with a short time horizon, and well publicized, rapidly dwindling presence and influence. The situation gives the Taliban a significant advantage going into the peace talks, and this will likely be amplified by the support they receive from Pakistan. At the end of the day, Pakistan supported the Taliban rise, supported their key leader's with drawl from Afghanistan in 2003, (even coordinating with the US to fly ISI and Taliban forces out of Konduz as US/Northern Alliance Forces surrounded them), continues to support them in exile, and will most likely support their return to power.

The only hope is that the Taliban returns as a political power within the existing political system, rather than attempting to overthrow it, as they did the war lords in the 1990's. I suspect that will be the option our negotiations will pursue. Unfortunately, we have laid out little incentive or pressure to help influence the direction the Taliban chooses to follow. In the end, the negotiations may server little more purpose beyond providing a political exit for the coalition.

I do wish the best for both the country and the people like Tariq. I wonder where he will be in another ten or twenty years. Despite his close ties to both the coalition forces and the efforts to establish a self sustaining nation and government, I wonder if he will stay and continue his work to help build the nation, or will he grow frustrated and seek better employment and opportunities abroad? He already expresses concerns about returning to Pakistan, and avoids returning even now, since the ISI likely knows he's working with coalition forces.

Will he feel the international forces failed to support the nation as it rebuilt, or will he feel the Afghan people and government wasted the aid and effort away with tribal squabbles and struggles for power? Time will tell, but as international patience and interest wain, I doubt many will be listening when it is finally told, nor do I know if I will ever meet Tariq again. So much for the hopeful close to our conversation or this topic. I guess the best I can honestly muster is good chat and good luck my friend.

Want to read more? These are some well written pieces that expand on force reduction and negotiations with the Taliban:
http://articles.philly.com/2012-01-12/news/30620318_1_taliban-talks-qatar-office-taliban-faction
http://articles.latimes.com/2012/feb/24/opinion/la-oe-boot-afghanistan-20120224