A question I am often asked is, "does it get any easier the longer you are in Afghanistan?" You might guess the short answer is both yes and no, somedays yes and some no. Yes, it gets easier because more things become familiar and the pangs of family separation ease. Yet also no, because all it takes is one day to remind you of all the reasons why you have resigned yourself that wiping the Taliban off the face of the earth is what may be required to cure this country of its ills. It's those days that never get easier.
I am privileged to be able to work for peace and development here in an economically burgeoning province. I work with local officials, meet with village elders, travel to project sites and meet locals feeding their families with American dollars on projects we sponsor. It's rewarding and frustrating, but for the most part, my day is spent trying to help build Afghanistan. But this day was not one where I felt positive; in fact, I could not have felt any more disheartened.
This feeling started several days ago when I was meeting with a group of provincial line directors to discuss the status of some of our projects. One of those projects is to help develop a local bazaar that is doing so well, it is running out of room. It also could benefit from extending the municipal water supply and electrical grid to support business growth other than just necessities. The people whose shops are in the bazaar are legitimate entrepreneurs, building their business in an area where they are under constant threat of intimidation and violence. The locals you meet there are friendly and for the most part, the elders welcome us.
We discussed a number of options for the bazaar including how the Afghan government could also support its growth. It was a productive meeting and we found a possible way forward. Just as we were moving on to another topic, we felt a loud blast that shook the room's single pane windows to the point they might break from the shock. What was surprising was the fact that none of us really seemed all that concerned. These events are all too common.
The real disappointment came when we heard more details about the blast - it was an IED that was detonated in the same bazaar we had just talked about. Our discussions then went from how to build the bazaar's capacity to how we might have to rebuild the bazaar. The innocent civilian lives that are lost and the toll the Afghan people are extracting upon themselves is incomprehensible to me. As we left the meeting, we all knew that even the best intentions, some things are completely out of our control.
The few days after that meeting was one of the worst and leaves me seething. Two young boys, that were not yet teenagers, became entangled in the Taliban's web of violence. I had blogged once before about the Taliban sending children into harm's way in order to draw attention or draw fire from Coalition Forces. Thankfully they haven't been that successful; however, the Taliban are nothing if not resourceful at finding ways to wreak havoc on their own people.
The two boys were apparently given money to emplace an IED on a road. That IED went off prematurely and killed one of the boys instantly, the other boy had a chance to live. He was rushed to the local Army base missing an arm and a leg, both torn off by the blast. The only reason he was still alive is because he wasn't the one carrying the IED. His courier was carrying him, covered in blood, and pleading with the soldiers at the gate to let him in.
It's hard for a young soldier at a gate to weigh such a decision in his mind with precious little time. He hesitated; unsure what to do, likely shocked by the scene, and called his higher. The soldier couldn't understand the pleas for help in Pashto as frantic discussions ensued on whether to let the boy onto the base. There are legitimate reasons for being cautious. The Taliban try every tactic they can to gain an advantage, this could be another one of those tactics.
The officers in charge of the entry point rushed to put on all their kit (body armor, helmets, etc.) and get to the gate to assess the situation. Meanwhile, the boy was fading and seconds became minutes. By the time the decision was made to let the boy in and provide advanced care, the deepening pools of moist, red blood that filled around the feet of the man carrying him foretold the end of the story as the boy's wails had fallen silent - it was too late.
I don't want to assume we could have saved the life of this boy, and I don't want to second-guess the actions of the soldiers at the entry point. The boy's injuries were severe and the soldiers were just trying to prevent more lives from being lost. The only bad decision that was made was by the Taliban, using children as their pawns in a sadistic game of chess.
I cannot see any quality in the Taliban leadership that speaks of honor or courage as they only impose fear and terror on their fellow Afghans. I cannot see any actions by the Taliban to improve Afghanistan as they only seek to improve their own power base. I cannot see any value in allowing their leadership to live. The first time I had an insurgent in my sights, I hesitated as I wondered for a second whether taking his life would be the right decision. I'm past that.
