I am listening to "Should I stay or should I go" from The Clash as I am trying to untangle what the consequences of the recent U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan will be. It was the habit of a lecturer of mine at King's, Pablo de Orellana to put something relevant on before we delved into a complicated issue. Mick Jones' vocals strike harder than ever: "if I go there will be trouble, an' if I stay there will be double". I wonder if President Biden listened to this. The next line starts "so come on and let me know". I realise he probably did not. Listening to the wider external environment might have exposed that what seems pragmatic may be too narrow an understanding of the challenge.
It has just been a few days that the global public started to grasp the momentum of change in Afghanistan. Many are shocked how 80,000 fighters blew away an army of over 300,000 American-trained troops. But there is no reason to be surprised. The Taliban’s success is a reminder that locally rooted power structures will always trump a hastily imposed democratic system. After all, how can you fight for something you don’t believe in?
People want to survive, and as the social beings we are, we often do that as parts of groups for additional strength. We seek a sense of security from our membership. But for a group to activate beneficial systems of cohesion, similarity must be cultivated. It is through familiarity that we develop the necessary trust. There are various narratives of identity for achieving that: histories of common success or suffering, a connection to the land, relation through blood, traditions and common morality.
The Taliban can apply such tools of cohesion with ease. They activate Pashtun cultural heritage, tribal allegiance, Islam, village identity, even the galvanising narrative of resisting foreign invaders.
Although there are few Afghans with whom all of these points resonate, it is fair to argue that most of them embrace at least one. Thus, the Taliban can rely on a wide array of narrative connections offering stability when one may be under pressure. The same could never be true for the Western-supported government.
Afghanistan is a patchwork of cultures, thus conceptualising the Afghan nation is difficult, especially if you decide to do so on the path of democracy. By definition, you must be more sensitive, open to allowing competing narratives of identity in your midst. This means that in almost all categories of identity, the Taliban can come up with a stronger, more cohesive narrative. In fact, all except one: telling a future-oriented story of a fairer and safer life for all Afghans, offering a goal-oriented, aspirational identity.
This is a legitimate approach, and a powerful one too. Its most famous manifestation is the idea of the ‘American Dream’, which helped the United States propel itself into the leading seat of global politics. The special social contract orients diverse groups in the direction of working out progress together thereby diverting energy from intergroup friction. Common success can bring people closer. But when the social contract is undermined and stops delivering, there is nothing to stop the rapid erosion of trust as there are no ‘insurance’ sources of identity to fall back on.
With the U.S. plug pulled, the Afghan government lost its only competitive source of identity.
Imagine, you are a soldier in the Afghan National Army. But you do not get your ammunition, even your daily ration of food, because a minister – or your superior officer – embezzled too much money from the system. You joined because you thought this government, the Western way, would make things less corrupted. When you are confronted by a different reality, you are scrambling for other pillars of identity for emotional reassurance but find that those are better offered by the Taliban. You may stand under the same flag, but it is difficult to feel any sense of solidarity. That is when you realise that your Afghan group membership is just an empty shell. You have been fooled. Why would you keep fighting? You either flee, accept a bribe or join the other side.
Of course, many are now asking if the collapse of an Afghan government left on its own was avoidable. But the more interesting question is whether there was ever another available pathway for the West? After 9/11, the U.S. decided to invade Afghanistan to eliminate imminent terrorist threats. But as a democracy, did it really have an option to leave right after its mission was completed – or was it expected to help rebuild a country it just violated? Immediate departure would have been seen as detached, irresponsible. So, as it stayed, did it then ever have the option of supporting the force with the highest likelihood of consolidating rule in Afghanistan or only those actors that would accept the ideal of Western-democratic governance? Anything to the contrary would have seemed dissonant and inconsistent. Or if it did not see such a power, would have Western audiences supported a more hard-line U.S. occupation government lasting three generations, overseeing the creation of institutions permitting the long-term sustainability of the Afghan democratic process? Many would have protested that the U.S. is abusive, patronising or simply wasteful. It is not certain these approaches would have yielded better outcomes, but it is plausible to suggest they could not even be explored as options.
The U.S. intervention was path-dependent, and eventually it had to be acknowledged that within the given parameters it could not succeed, only stalemate.
In that sense, President Biden’s decision to pull out is explainable. For a democratic power, all options have been exhausted to turn Afghanistan into a self-sustaining project. With the benefit of hindsight, he could confidently argue in his address that the “mission was never supposed to be nation building”, which is code for there is nothing more we can do. Surely, the timing, the PR and relief efforts could have been better, but ultimately the outcome would not have been different. With no winning on the horizon, the withdrawal was accepted even at the cost of humanitarian disaster. Now, the U.S. can turn to redistributing its resources to challenges it deems more disruptive – as President Biden says, “the threats we face today in 2021, not yesterday’s threats”. It is difficult not to think of China and the Pacific.
Undeniably, there is logic to this. It is expected that as the sandstorm blows the last two decades away, the U.S. can start over elsewhere with a clean slate. Exit a losing gamble and invest in something more worthwhile. Except this is not business as usual. History may have been reversed for ordinary Afghans, but not for the West.
The withdrawal creates consequences that could seriously undermine Western strategic objectives.
Here are three examples how a poor stalemate – that could have been upheld within the given parameters by continuing supervision against corruption and providing air and intelligence support – is being traded for a worse defeat and a win for our rivals.
Ungrateful Disloyalty
Leaving tens of thousands of collaborators behind sends a very unappealing message. No matter how much you sacrificed for us, at the end of the day we have better things to care about. I have a friend, a U.S. Marine who has been trying to get his translator, Zak, out for months now – to no avail. He has grown to think of Zak as one of them, for on several occasions he risked his life to protect Americans. Roman auxiliaries were given citizenship at the end of their service. Zak has not even received a visa five years after applying. Will people like Zak work with the West in the next conflict? Will help coming from the Atlantic be trusted? Also, how will my friend feel about his own country? Will he believe in the righteousness of his cause to the same extent during his next deployment after bearing witness to betrayal? The same applies to other NATO countries. Disloyalty does not only weaken vis-à-vis the outside world; it also erodes from inside.
Value Abandonment
The West takes pride in value-based diplomacy and protecting human rights. How does it look that it hands over to a group known for its sadistic measures to enforce discipline? Before the invasion the responsibility was not Western, but the re-introduction of brutal punishments, the persecution of collaborators, a grave setback in women’s rights is a direct consequence of the decision to leave. The Afghan army can be blamed for many failures, but
the blood sticks to the West because what happens, happens on its watch
– at least that is how it will be seen. All of this, while the U.S. is trying to convince the world that democracy is a value worth fighting for. Secretary of State Blinken calls out China on Hong Kong and Xinjiang, but his government willingly capitulates to the return of routine flogging in Afghanistan. The dissonance is deafening, many will take note.
Opportunity Creation (for Rivals)
China’s alternative world order has been handed a perfect opportunity to prove its worth. Without the constraints of democratic standards and the matter of Uyghurs out of the way, they are ready to support Taliban consolidation. Expectedly, they will invest heavily in new infrastructure and help spark more economic activity. Considering that the Taliban is less corrupt than successive Western-supported governments, these investments are more likely to trickle down to the level of ordinary Afghans. In a couple decades time, we might see an Afghanistan that benefited more from the departure of the West than its presence. It is also possible that with gradual economic development the Taliban loosens up. This is speculative but so was the idea of women driving cars in Saudi Arabia.
If China succeeds in driving such change it can provide proof-of-concept that its value-neutral development policy is on par if not better than value-driven Western initiatives.
We cannot predict the future, but we must concede that if that happens – and the possibility is there – the West will not benefit.
Drawing conclusions is difficult. Surely, there is a case that despite all these drawbacks, withdrawal was still the pragmatic choice. It is not Western responsibility to create order in other parts of the world. The U.S. should never have invaded in the first place. Maybe Afghans too will gain more from the end of the conflict than from an unstable democracy, and the West will indeed become more able to focus on new challenges. But if we argued so, we would miss a crucial point. That morality cannot be separated from Western pragmatism and thus the future of its cause.
Think about it this way. The West is a diminishing culture. Its economy and population are constantly shrinking in relative terms and its societies are growing less and less cohesive. In the 21st century, it cannot afford to rely on strength anymore. If it wants to keep competing, the it must focus on its ‘unique selling point’. And whether we like it or not that is democracy. In fact, even at the zenith of the West’s power it was the idea that sold it. That is why my parents’ generation was so enthusiastic to break out of the Soviet bloc. That is why many Afghans carried on towards progression in the last 20 years. By leaving them behind that idea is shattered into pieces – and with it the only thing at which the West is likely to remain better than the emerging powers of the world.
This withdrawal is destroying the Western comparative advantage: inspiration through values.
Does that mean that we should advocate for more Afghanistans? No. Opening further lines of confrontation is foolish and unnecessary. Today’s best investment is at home, in making the idea of democracy appealing again. But I do believe that once the U.S. made the mistake of starting, the West had to follow through for the people, democratic values, the grand narrative – a stalemate was suboptimal but sustainable. Otherwise, what distinguishes the West from the others? If nothing, then numbers will decide its future – and the numbers are not in its favour. Hardly pragmatic.