The September 11 Tragedy
Anthropological Commentaries
Sponsored by the Middle East Section of the American Anthropological Association
last updated 2/23/04
 
This page archives commentaries relevant to the September 11 Tragedy and its aftermath by anthropologists. Please respond to the individual author, if you have questions or comments. If you would like to post a commentary, please contact Dan Varisco. For links to commentaries posted elsewhere on the web, click here.
 
Dan Varisco, President, MES
 

Contents
 

AN ALTERNATIVE APPROACH TO AFGHANISTAN (M. Jamil Hanifi)

Anthropology, the Web and the War on Terror (Daniel Martin Varisco)

The Bombs of October (David B. Edwards)
 
DISTORTING THEORY AND MISREADING SOCIETY IN AFGHANISTAN
(M. Jamil Hanfi)
 
Enlisting Afghan Aid (David B. Edwards & Shahmahmood Miakhel)
 
Fast, Feast, and Famine (David B. Edwards)
 
Lessons from the Antimafia Struggle in Sicily (Jane and Peter Schneider)
 
Outwitting Osama (David B. Edwards)
 
September 11: Contexts and Consequences (edited by Misha Klein and Adrian McIntyre) [announcement]
 
Taleban: The Word (M. Jamil Hanifi)
 
Thinking beyond the Taliban (David B. Edwards)
 
• Thinking the Unthinkable: : Anthropological Meditations on the Events of 11 September 2001 (Glenn Bowman)
 

The Bombs of October
David B. Edwards, Williams College
October 13, 2001
 
After three weeks of effectively confounding Osama bin Laden by not doing what he expected us to do, the bombs of October appear to have squandered the sympathy and advantage we briefly enjoyed following the terrorist attacks. One vital question now is how do we regain the propaganda advantage we will need to prevent the conflict in Afghanistan from spreading to other parts of the Muslim world.
 
For bin Laden, the terrorist attacks of September 11 were the first salvo of a global holy war between Islam and the West, but the early U.S. actions defied bin Laden's plans. Through our multi-pronged strategy of international coalition-building, financial strangulation of terrorist networks, and facilitation of a moderate Afghan political solution, the U.S. appeared to be taking momentum away from bin Laden.
 
Reports from inside Afghanistan indicated fragmentation in the Taliban regime. Traditional clerics loosely aligned with the government, and even some Taliban officials, were said to be unhappy with the Wahhabi drift of Mulla Umar and his Arab allies, and were contemplating joining the coalition building around former king Zahir Shah. Their assistance would be crucial to any political settlement in Afghanistan, and it appeared that they might begin a migration away from Mulla Umar that would bring with it further defections from the rank and file.
 
All talk of internal dissension promptly stopped after the bombs started falling on October 7, however. Afghanistan was now under attack, and Afghans did what they have always done in times of national crisis, which is to rally together in opposition to the aggressor. The United States naturally does not view itself in this light, but it is difficult for a nation to sustain the impression of paternal benevolence when it is dropping bombs on those it claims to care about, no matter how many packets of dehydrated soy products accompany those bombs.
 
When Defense Secretary Rumsfeld spoke at the first news conference on October 7 announcing the commencement of air strikes, he emphasized the humanitarian side of the new campaign, but few people take those efforts seriously at this stage. What had appeared a week earlier as a creative way to drive a wedge between the Afghan people and their rulers now seemed cynical and cruelly inadequate to the enormity of the humanitarian crisis in Afghanistan.
 
The growing momentum to form a national assembly (loya jirga) of moderate Afghan political leaders likewise now seems of secondary importance, as it has became clear through the smoke and slogans of anti-U.S. demonstrations that the Pakistan government would be hard-pressed to provide adequate security, and any loya jirga would probably have to be convened in Rome or some equally improbable location far from the people it would purport to represent.
 
In order to reclaim the propaganda advantage we have lost, the United States must recommit to its pledge of providing humanitarian assistance to the three million Afghans in danger of immediate starvation this winter. U.S. aircraft have dismantled the meager air defense systems the Taliban possessed, and we are now in a position to take forcible control of Afghan airfields at Bagram, Shindand, and other parts of the country, making possible the introduction by air of significant quantities of humanitarian aid. Airdrops from 30,000 feet were never going to meet the needs of Afghanistan's starving populations, but we could make a substantial dent in the problem if we established fixed points from which we could distribute food and send out helicopter relief sorties to more isolated villages.
 
Once distribution points were established, our original decision to commence air strikes could be credibly represented as an effort to gain control of the air needed to set up an effective relief operation in Afghanistan. Taliban forces would very likely strike back in an effort to expel us from their bases, and we would have to deploy ground forces to keep the Taliban at bay. But, those would be battles worth fighting, especially if it is remembered that the Afghan conflict is ultimately about winning the hearts and minds of Muslims outside Afghanistan.
 
Dispatching troops to deliver food would thus be seen in a very different light from sending in troops to topple the Taliban, and would increase the likelihood of us accomplishing both objectives. With us ensconced and offering food, the Taliban would be forced either to move onto the plains surrounding their former airbases, where our aircraft would be ready to pounce. Or they would have to try to stop their own people from receiving the food aid they needed to survive. Either way, the regime is placed at a disadvantage, and we are the ones calling the shots.
 
Osama bin Laden intends for the war in Afghanistan to be the first battle in a global clash of civilizations. His statements following the commencement of air strikes on October 7 clearly demonstrated his strategic goals, and we must do everything in our power to prevent those goals from being achieved. Having committed to a military strategy, it would be counter-productive to disengage at this stage, but we can still exert considerable control over the significance given to our strikes through our next series of steps.
 
The creation of food distribution centers would recast our actions to date in a very different light than they are seen at present, and would demonstrate to the people of the Muslim world generally that our declarations of support and concern for the Afghan people have been genuine from the start and that we are prepared to put American lives at risk to prevent a humanitarian catastrophe in Afghanistan this winter.
 
 
David B. Edwards is Professor of Anthropology, Williams College, Williamstown, Massachusetts and director of the Williams Afghan Media Project. He is the author of Before Taliban: Genealogies of the Afghan Jihad (U. of California Press, February 2002).
 
Contact Information:
• For David Edwards: dedwards@williams.edu.

 
Enlisting Afghan Aid
David B. Edwards & Shahmahmood Miakhel
September 16, 2001
 
Osama bin Laden is waiting for George Bush to attack Afghanistan. It is the response he expects, and he can't wait. For him, this is a holy war, a clash of civilizations, and he has no compunction about using Afghans as kindling to start a conflagration that would involve the entire Muslim world. One hopes the policymakers in Washington realize where bin Laden's strategy leads and will think carefully about how to avoid his trap.
 
To develop a strategy that confounds bin Laden's plans, we must begin by thinking of Afghans not as enemies but as potential allies. It is no coincidence that none of the names so far identified in the list of hijackers are Afghans. Bin Laden and his Arab followers live in restricted enclaves, and few Afghans, outside the Taliban regime itself, harbor any sympathies for his cause. Afghanistan now, no less than during the decade of Soviet control, is an occupied nation, and we must enlist in our struggle the many Afghans inside the country and out who would welcome the opportunity to unseat the Taliban and get rid of the Arab interlopers in their country. Two steps must be taken to draw these people into the international community in its attack on bin Laden and his supporters.
 
First, the international community must assemble experienced Afghan leaders to provide the nucleus of an interim government. This group should include exiled moderates who were forced out of the political picture first by the extremist resistance parties in Peshawar back in the 1980s and then by the Taliban. They must be joined by the handful of moderate commanders forced into exile by the Taliban who Afghans still trust. The number of recognized Afghan leaders who have managed to both survive and maintain their reputation in the polarized politics of the last two decades is small, but they exist and must be persuaded to put aside their partisan disputes and participate in a transitional coalition to govern Afghanistan until democratic elections can be held. As this group is brought together, Afghans generally must be convinced that these leaders will not be puppets of the United States or any other foreign power. Similarly, Afghanistan's neighbors must understand that the interim government will avoid foreign entanglements and dedicate itself to the immediate goals of reestablishing the foundations of government, helping the Afghan people become economically self-sufficient, and preparing the ground for general elections.

The second step is an international commitment made up front to provide a massive influx of development assistance to reconstruct the economic and social infrastructure of Afghan society. After 23 years of foreign occupation and civil war, the country's roads, irrigation systems, and electrical grid are in a state of ruin, and Afghanistan now is in the grip of a drought that has turned much of the region into a desert. Afghans remember well that the international community largely forgot about them after the Soviets withdrew from their country, and they must be assured that this will not happen again and that we will work with them to rebuild the once vibrant and modernizing society that existed prior to the Marxist revolution of 1978. Without such commitments, Afghans will find little reason to take the risks that opposing Bin Laden and the Taliban will entail. On the other hand, the promise of sustained international support for Afghanistan will send a message not only to Afghans, but to Muslims generally that the West is committed to their welfare rather than their destruction.

No group has suffered more in the last quarter century than the Afghans, but they are a resilient people and will be a formidable foe again if they believe themselves to be under invasion from a foreign enemy. We must frame our response to the terrorist outrage not as an assault but as a liberation&emdash;from oppressive rulers, unwanted guests, and the economic calamity that is their everyday reality. Respected Afghan leaders must be at the forefront of our efforts, and it must be clear that our intentions are to help rebuild rather than to destroy. Those of us who have enjoyed the prosperity of the last two decades must recognize that terrorism is born of political and economic despair. If we fail to take into account Afghanistan's future, as well as its past and present, Afghanistan will remain a place where terrorists can find safe haven, and all the military might in the world won't make us safe again.

 
David B. Edwards is Professor of Anthropology at Williams College and the director of the Williams Afghan Media Project. He is also the author of Children of History: Genealogies of the Afghan Jihad (forthcoming, Univ. of California Press) and other books and articles on the Afghan conflict.
Shahmahmood Miakhel was a reporter for the Voice of America in Pakistan and the director of the Belgian relief organization for Afghan refugees. In the early 1990s, he was senior liaison officer in the United Nations Development Program in Afghanistan. He is presently a taxi driver in Washington, D.C.
 
Contact Information:
• For David Edwards: dedwards@williams.edu
• For Shahmahmood Miakhel: miakhel@erols.com
 

Fast, Feast, and Famine
David B. Edwards, Williams College
 
This year, Thanksgiving, our national celebration of family, food and football, will fall in the middle of Ramadan, the Muslim month of fasting. Both rituals will, of course, take place against the backdrop of the conflict in Afghanistan and the prospect that, over the next four months, hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of drought-stricken and war-ravaged refugees from that country will starve or freeze to death. Feasting and fasting, satiation and starvation, football and war ñ the ritual calendars of our two nations at war have conspired to bring us face-to-face with our different beliefs, customs, and circumstances in the moment of our shared affliction.
 
Americans are learning a great deal, very quickly about Islam, and one thing they are bound to hear a lot about in the coming weeks is the importance of the month of Ramadan, which will begin on or about November 17th this year. Ramadan, which is based on the lunar cycle and therefore begins approximately ten days earlier with respect to our solar calendar, is the month during which Muslims abstain from food, drink, and other sensual pleasures from sunrise until sunset. Ramadan is thought of as a time of spiritual meditation and personal contemplation, when the individual takes stock of his life, but because all adults, male and female, rich and poor, are expected to observe the fast, Ramadan generates a strong communal bond among believers as well. It is said that the Quran was first revealed to Muhammad during this month, and the Battle of Badr, one of the most important early victories for the Muslim faithful, also occurred in Ramadan. Given the strong sense of communal solidarity and historical momentousness awakened by Ramadan, we will likely see sympathy for the Taliban and Afghan civilian casualties raised to a fever pitch if bombing continues after the beginning of the month. That virtually guarantees a marked increase in demonstrations, and since special blessings are bestowed on those martyred during Ramadan, the demonstrations this year could be especially violent, not only in Pakistan, but in other Muslim nations as well.
 
As Ramadan approaches, we need to assess what we have accomplished with our air war against the Taliban and al-Qaeda and what our next steps should be. On the plus side, we have destroyed a number of fuel and ammo dumps, and several dozen airplanes and tanks. With these successes, our aircraft are now able to crisscross the skies of Afghanistan more or less at will, attacking individual Taliban units and the few remaining entrenched tanks and anti-aircraft batteries that remain. On the minus side, air strikes appear to have strengthened rather than weakened our enemy.
 
Before the bombing, the Taliban were unpopular rulers, despised by many of the Afghan people for their severe interpretation of Islamic doctrine. Since the bombing began, they have once again become mujahidin, holy warriors, devoid perhaps of their most sophisticated weapons, but respected at home and admired abroad. Parallels to the Soviet experience in Afghanistan are not exact - our technology for one offers opportunities the Soviets never enjoyed - but if the Soviet occupation teaches us anything, it is that a unified Afghanistan, even without aircraft and tanks, is a dangerous enemy indeed. If, in addition to a united Afghanistan, the Muslim world should join in opposition to the United States, then bin Ladenís most important mission will have been accomplished, and it wonít really matter anymore whether the man himself is, in fact, dead of alive or how many tons of ordinance we drop.
 
This is not where we wanted to be when we initiated air strikes on October 7, but the reality is that our strategic goals have never been clearly defined, our intelligence is inadequate (when it is not actually compromised), and it would appear that we donít really know how to proceed. Under these circumstances, Ramadan is a Godsend, as much for us as for the Muslim people, because it provides the U.S. with a face-saving way to call a truce and thereby disengage from an increasingly futile and counter-productive military campaign. At the same time, a Ramadan truce would also give former king Zahir Shah an opportunity to try to bring the forces of the Northern Alliance with the Pashtun group convened recently in Peshawar by Pir Gailani. These two groups need to coordinate their efforts to achieve a political solution, but their efforts will be pointless as long as bombs are raining down on Afghanistan.
 
As we contemplate the onset of Ramadan, we might also want to think about our own ritual of Thanksgiving and what it used to stand for and what it means to us now. When it was first celebrated in 1622, it was a feast to celebrate and praise God for the bounty of the season. It would be good to remember the roots of our national holiday and honor them by recommitting ourselves to an effective plan for dealing with the humanitarian crisis in Afghanistan. On the day that we gather as families to celebrate our blessings, the government should announce a massive effort not only to deal with the immediate crisis this winter, but also to provide financial and technical assistance in a multi-national effort to reconstruct the shattered Afghan economy. Funding for this endeavor should be placed in trust with the United Nations until reconstruction efforts can begin.
 
This undertaking would not only regain for us some of the moral high ground that we have lost since the bombing campaign begun, it will also help shore up our increasingly nervous coalition. Equally important, making good on our commitment to help Afghanistan out of its current crisis will do us good. Americans now are scared and uncertain. The anthrax contagion has proven that no one is safe from terrorism, and our vaunted military power is not accomplishing the goals we had hoped it would. However, using our technology and our wealth to help save the most beleaguered people on earth will remind us of the principles of generosity and compassion that, far more than military might, are the bedrock of our society.
 
David B. Edwards is Professor of Anthropology, Williams College, Williamstown, Massachusetts and the director of the Williams Afghan Media Project. He is also the author of two books on Afghanistan: Heroes of the Age: Moral Fault Lines on the Afghan Frontier (U. of California Press, 1996) and Children of History: Genealogies of the Afghan Jihad (U. of California Press, forthcoming).
 
Contact Information:
• For David Edwards: dedwards@williams.edu

Outwitting Osama
David B. Edwards, Williams College
September 23, 2001
 
America needs to drop "smart bombs" on Afghanistan. I don't mean the ones that go down smokestacks to reach their target. I mean the kind that tear the heart out of a terrorist movement by denying it the support of the people it needs to spread its message of hatred and fear. The bomber we need to mobilize for this mission is not the B-1 or the B-52. It is the C-5A cargo plane, and the bombs should be shipments of food, blankets, and medicine to help the starving people of Afghanistan get through the coming winter. The international recognition that would come our way as a result of this humanitarian gesture would stop bin Laden in his tracks. It's the response from us he least expects, and that is why it is the response that just might succeed.
 
To understand why, two facts need to be recognized. First, Afghanistan is an occupied nation. Most Afghans support neither the Taliban rulers nor the foreign radicals who have set up bases in their country. The Taliban regime was imposed on the Afghan people after nearly two decades of foreign invasion and civil war. They promised a respite from violence, but promptly turned the people into instruments for their own extremist policies. Afghans endure a second occupier as well in the form of Osama bin Laden and other foreign radicals who came to Afghanistan under the guise of helping the people in their struggle against the Soviet Union, but then stayed on to pursue a holy war against America and its western allies. It is no coincidence that Afghans have not been listed among the hijackers. Afghans have never embraced bin Laden's ideology or tactics, and it is still possible to enlist the people of Afghanistan as allies in our struggle to destroy these occupation forces.
 
The second fact is that Afghanistan is a nation of subsistence farmers in the grip of a three-year drought that, following on the heels of a two-decade long war, has left people desperate for assistance. A Christian Aid worker recently forced to leave Afghanistan estimated that five million people are in danger of starving this winter.
 
It might be argued that the U.S. provided $123 million in humanitarian aid for Afghanistan last year, which didn't help us any in gaining the trust of the Afghan people. Why would this operation be different? The vast majority of our assistance has been funneled through UN agencies like the World Food Program, and few Afghans have any idea where this aid originally came from. This time, however, each of our "smart bombs" should display on its side an American flag, and contain a message in the native languages of Afghanistan telling the people that we recognize their suffering and will support them in their efforts to rebuild their society.
 
We should also announce that, in light of the humanitarian crisis, we will temporarily hold off on military operations against Afghanistan. During this time, the U.S. will provide Afghans the opportunity to decide on a strategy for dealing with the terrorist bases on their soil, recognizing that their elimination is a non-negotiable requirement. We should also announce that, while the airlift continues, we will stand ready to assist moderate political and religious leaders inside Afghanistan and in exile who want to help resolve this crisis by ridding their country of both the terrorists and the Taliban.
 
Such an operation succeeded in 1948, when the U.S. and Great Britain launched the Berlin Airlift that became a defining moment of the Cold War. The Airlift did not prevent the Cold War, nor forestall the division of Germany by the Soviet Union, anymore than this operation would preclude a sustained war on terrorism. But the airlift of 1948 ensured that a part of Berlin remained open and free, and just as importantly kept hope alive for the German people. Our actions at that time won for America and Great Britain the abiding respect of millions of Germans, who had until recently perceived us as enemies but who since have been our staunch allies. An airlift to help the innocent people of Afghanistan could work a similar transformation, confounding our enemies and winning over to our cause not only Afghans, but millions of other Muslims who will see that, in the face of terror, America retaliates with hope.
 
It would cost us little to try this strategy and could be of inestimable benefit to our efforts to destroy bin Laden's terrorist bases if it succeeded. At this point in time, we have lost the element of military surprise, but a "surprise attack" of a different kind would catch bin Laden and his followers off-guard. They expect revenge and are ready to broadcast to the Muslim world pictures of the Afghan civilian casualties that would inevitably result from U.S. military strikes. How much more powerful it would be to show the world a different picture, a picture of Americans providing assistance to a people in need. No action on our part would more effectively reveal the falseness of bin Laden's claim to be the defender of Islam or demonstrate more clearly to the world the true nature of American justice.
 
David B. Edwards is Professor of Anthropology, Williams College, Williamstown, Massachusetts and the director of the Williams Afghan Media Project. He is also the author of two books on Afghanistan: Heroes of the Age: Moral Fault Lines on the Afghan Frontier (U. of California Press, 1996) and Children of History: Genealogies of the Afghan Jihad (U. of California Press, forthcoming).
 
Contact Information:
• For David Edwards: dedwards@williams.edu

Thinking beyond the Taliban
David B. Edwards, Williams College
September 26, 2001
 
U.S. intelligence officials have had more than two weeks now to contemplate the complexities of Afghan politics, and they must be sobered by what they have seen. The Pentagon isn't showing us any satellite photos of bin Laden's bases, but it's a safe bet that they reveal a lot more empty mud huts than "military assets." Defense analysts also must be scratching their heads trying to figure out whether the groups of bearded men in turbans they are seeing are Arab, or Taliban, or just ordinary Afghans. Meanwhile, our officials have undoubtedly realized that a lot of those Arab terrorists hold Pakistani passports, and they may now understand that while we plan military operations into Afghanistan, the people we are after may have crossed the porous border into Pakistan in order to organize a new round of demonstrations and attacks to destabilize the Musharraf regime we are relying on so heavily.
 
Our policymakers also may be realizing that the much vaunted Northern Alliance, even if it had been able to call on the services of its late leader Ahmad Shah Massoud, would not be the answer to our problems because of the complex ethnic makeup of Afghanistan. The Northern Alliance is comprised mostly of Persian-speaking Tajiks, who constitute around a quarter of the national population and are far less significant politically than the majority Pakhtuns.
 
If we employed Tajik guerrillas, or even just used Tajik areas to launch our own attacks on bin Laden's bases, Pakhtuns would perceive this as a conspiracy to install a Tajik regime in Afghanistan, all the more so because the terrorist bases are situated in Pakhtun areas close to the Pakistani border. Their opposition to an American/Northern Alliance effort to attack the bases would also solidify bin Laden's influence in the Pakhtun border zone, the stability of which is critical for our efforts to both uproot the terrorists and preserve the Pakistani regime.
 
Now, as in the past, Pakhtuns will determine the fate of the Afghan nation, and while other ethnic groups must be included in any plans that are developed, Pakhtuns are the ones who need to be at the forefront of our concern.
 
To gain Pakhtun support, we need to start by helping moderate Afghans assemble an alternative political front. That will require the assistance of former king, Zahir Shah. Zahir Shah is now 86 years old and has neither the vigor nor the vision "to ride the wild Afghan steed" (in Lord Curzon's phrase). However, millions of Afghans remember his rule as the last time they knew peace, and he could perform a crucial role by presiding over a national assembly, a loya jirga, the traditional forum in which Afghans have chosen their leaders and worked out their most serious political problems for almost three centuries.
 
For the loya jirga to succeed, it must be truly representative. Over the last two decades, hundreds of thousands of educated Afghans have resettled in the West. They must be represented, and so too must religious leaders. Many religious leaders do not support the Taliban and worry that the regime has embraced not only bin Laden's political tactics, but also his Wahhabi ideology, with its opposition to saints, shrines and other religious beliefs that have deep roots in Afghanistan. These religious leaders, who enjoy great influence with ordinary Afghans, must be part of the assembly, but they will be willing to join only if they are convinced that Americans and Pakistanis will let the assembly do its business without interference.
 
Twice in the 1980s, moderate Afghans tried to convene loya jirgas in Pakistan. Both attempts failed, in large part because of the opposition of the Pakistan government, which saw the loya jirga as a threat to the Islamic political parties it then backed. This time, Pakistan must not only support the efforts of the loya jirga, it must also provide ironclad security for its members and resist the impulse to meddle in the assembly's deliberations, directly or behind the scenes.
 
Tribal Pakhtun elders must also play an important role in the national assembly. They are the ones, in the end, who must be called on to get rid of bin Laden's camps, and there is good reason to believe that this will not be a tough sell. While Pakhtuns are devout Muslims, they have never liked the idea of turning Afghanistan into a theocratic state, and the Taliban have consistently encountered hostility trying to impose its harsh social policies in Pakhtun tribal areas. Bin Laden's Islam is even less reflective of the Islam of the tribal areas than that of the Taliban, and many Pakhtuns view bin Laden's followers as arrogant and insensitive to tribal culture.
 
Pakhtuns are also entrepreneurial to a fault, and many among their leaders will recognize the opportunity American assistance represents. This fact offers an opportunity, but it is one that will have to be negotiated carefully. One lesson of Afghanistan's long war with the Soviet Union is that aid dispensed to one faction generates hostility among others. We should therefore focus our efforts at this stage on helping the loya jirga, not buying friends.
 
Whether the Taliban themselves should be represented is the most difficult question of all. While generally unpopular, the Taliban have their supporters, particularly in the border areas. Excluding them might make for good politics back in the U.S., but it could backfire where it counts most. At the same time, including them might be strategically effective, especially if doing so exposes cracks within the Taliban administration. The Taliban regime is not monolithic. As in Iran, there are hardliners and moderates, and the convening of a loya jirga might offer moderates a welcome exit from what must seem to them a no-win situation.
 
However this and other issues are resolved, it is critical that Afghans be the ones in charge. If it looks like outsiders are calling the shots, the jirga will be finished as an option, probably for good. Allowing democracy, Afghan-style, to work itself out will require extraordinary patience on our part. Agreements will not happen quickly. Every delegate will want to speak at every juncture, and will need to be heard. We cannot rush the process. And while we have the right to demand from the outset the elimination of terrorist bases from Afghan soil (and should keep alive the threat of a military response if this demand is not met), we also must commit ourselves to abide by what the loya jirga decides about the future government of Afghanistan. Democracy is ultimately what we are fighting for. We must demonstrate our commitment to it as we help Afghans reconstruct the political fabric of their nation.
 
David B. Edwards is Professor of Anthropology, Williams College, Williamstown, Massachusetts and the director of the Williams Afghan Media Project. He is also the author of two books on Afghanistan: Heroes of the Age: Moral Fault Lines on the Afghan Frontier (U. of California Press, 1996) and Children of History: Genealogies of the Afghan Jihad (U. of California Press, forthcoming).
 
Contact Information:
• For David Edwards: dedwards@williams.edu
 
 

Anthropology, the Web and the War on Terror
Daniel Martin Varisco, Hofstra University
Anthropology News (December, 2001)
 
The events of September 11 that enraged the American public immediately engaged the American media with extensive live coverage of the early destruction, statements by government officials and commentaries from a wide range of media experts. All of a sudden, almost anyone with any knowledge of the Middle East, Islam or terrorism became a target for media journalists. A number of MES members participated in teach-ins and public forums to play the role of responding to "why" such an event could have happened, why do "they" hate "us" and an outpouring of questions from people who mostly knew about Muslims and recent Middle East politics from Hollywood films, soundbites and the occasional PBS documentary.
 
A new twist, however, is our unparalleled use of the internet in getting background information, viewing pictures (eg Bin Laden aside Sesame Street's Bert), posting comments and forwarding petitions. In addition to being a valuable tool, there is much about the use of the web in this crisis that calls out for anthropological analysis. There are quite a few new sites about Bin-Laden, building the myth of the latest postmodern alter-ogre of the "West." MSA News (msanews.mynet.net/Scholars/Laden) eg lists both pro and anti-Bin Laden links, the most bizarre being a "Bin Laden Liquor Store" shoot-the-terrorist game posted on an e-casino site. Consider the irony that Yahoo has a Jihad Web Ring (nav.webring.yahoo.com/hub?ring=jihadring&list). There you will find "The Islamic Kuwait" (connect.to/q8) with a file of Bin Laden speeches, which can be downloaded and viewed. Visual anthropologists might be interested in the "Ripley's Believe It Or Not" photo of a group of trees in Germany (geocities.com/robi94/1images.html) &endash; the trunks spell out the Islamic shahadah &endash; alongside photos of the WTC on fire. Many Muslims have posted condemnations of the Sept 11 attack, alongside critiques of US Middle East policy, on their personal websites.
 
MES has put up a new webpage on the Sept 11 tragedy (people.hofstra.edu/faculty/daniel_m_varisco/wtc.htm) with links to web sources. Not exhaustive by any means, the goal is to provide a few representative links about the concerned Middle Eastern cultures, Islam, discussion of the initial tragedy, and relevant educational resources. It also contains links about hate-crimes against Muslims and "others" in America. The role of the internet in the Middle East is also the focus of the New Media and Information Technology (NMIT) site (nmit.georgetown.edu/index.html) created by Jon Anderson and hosting a series of working papers. Colleagues interested in a discussion list oriented to this topic can subscribe at NMITME-L@georgetown.edu.

Lessons from the Antimafia Struggle in Sicily
Jane Schneider ( Graduate Center, City University of New York)
and Peter Schneider (Fordham University)
 
We write as an anthropologist and sociologist who have been studying the mafia and the antimafia in Palermo since the late 1980s, who heard President Bush say that Al Qaeda is to terrorism what the mafia is to organized crime, and who believe that the profound changes in Palermo and Sicily over the last decade and a half might offer some insight ñ and some hope ñ for these troubled times. Above all we think the Sicilian experience suggests a way forward for those who desire to frame our situation in terms that do not immediately evoke the images and rhetoric of the Cold War era ñ hawks and doves, hard hats and hippies, freedom fighters and peaceniks. The Sicilian mafia is not ideologically driven, nor did it ever have a global reach, or attempt acts of spectacular vengeance on the scale of September 11. It is, however, a secretive organization whose ìfamiliesî nurture violence. Moreover, after the breakup of the French Connection, in the context of Sicilyís becoming a crossroads of global narcotics trafficking, this violence bordered on terrorism. It is on these grounds that we offer the following reflections.
 
The massacres of the Palermo Prefect General Carlo Alberto dalla Chiesa, in 1982, and the heroic prosecutors Giovanni Falcone and Paolo Borsellino, in 1992, provoked intense moral outrage among Sicilians and a determination to bring the perpetrators and those who protected them to justice. This reaction, however, was never depicted as a ìwarî on the mafia (the word ìwarî being reserved for episodes of reciprocal intra-mafia killing). The language used instead was la lotta contro la mafia -- ìthe struggle against the mafia.î It has been a long and uneven, but not unsuccessful struggle, on several parallel fronts.
 
One is the criminal justice front. Sicilians who were not accustomed to lauding the work of prosecutors and policemen soon came to appreciate, and give their support to, a cohort of brilliant prosecutors and police investigators. Like the leading figure, Falcone, these professionals demonstrated an impressive sociological imagination, grasping the contours of what had formerly been a little known and much mystified phenomenon. The work was dangerous, and Falcone and others paid for it with their lives, but not before developing two critical investigative strategies: tracing the money and (borrowed from the 1970s prosecution of political terrorists in Italy) turning some mafiosi into ìjustice collaborators.î Producing an astonishing amount of new knowledge in a short period of time, these strategies encouraged participants in the broader antimafia struggle.
 
On a second front, the antimafia struggle challenged the Italian state for having harbored ñ given aid and comfort to -- the mafia. Throughout the Cold War, the major centrist political parties benefited from votes that mafiosi delivered from Sicily; mafiosi in turn counted on these parties to protect them from effective prosecution. But leaders of the antimafia struggle did not proceed by demonizing the state of Italy per se. Adopting the felicitous expression ìpieces of the state,î they attempted to identify and shore up political elements committed to reform while demanding transparency from, or the removal of, elements that were covert and corrupt. A similar approach was taken in other institutions ñ the banks, the church, the health care system, the unions, the university ñ all arenas where reformers found each other and pressed for change.

Sustaining these efforts was the movimento antimafia, a multi-faceted citizensí social movement. Catalyzed anew by each episode of terror, it poured its energy, in the form of a great deal of volunteer work, into promoting the values of democracy and civility. It is important to appreciate that antimafia Sicilians share both location and history with the mafia. Dedicated to the antimafia struggle, they are nevertheless loyal to their Sicilian identity, and in some cases burdened by a past of ambiguous social relations with mafiosi or their friends and kin. The resulting moral anguish is the more troubling because ìSiciliansî are so often treated as a stigmatized category by the wider world. In coping with their anguish, men and women in the forefront of the struggle have found comfort in the declarations of support that they have received from outsiders ñ for example, a sympathetic press in Northern Italy and Europe.

 
Antimafia activists in Sicily remain committed. There has been, as well, a series of investigative and prosecutorial breakthroughs. Sicily is today a remarkably different place ñ changed in ways that no one thought possible a decade and a half ago. At the same time, however, many sense that the gains could be reversed, in part because, although it unfolded on a broad front, the antimafia struggle never adequately addressed deeply rooted problems of poverty and unemployment. If anything, its economic impact, particularly on the construction industry in the major cities, made these problems worse, so much so that the graffito ìviva la mafiaî can be seen here and there in poor neighborhoods.
 
Four lessons of the antimafia struggle seem potentially applicable to fighting terrorism. First: be encouraged by inspired police and judicial investigators, globally networked in a collaborative effort to follow the dirty money, ìturnî witnesses, and uncover evidence of criminality. We will soon know more about secretive organizations dedicated to producing terror, and these organizations will be more vulnerable to prosecution. Second: expect that state support of terrorism is not unitary ñ that pieces of many states play or have played a role. This manner of thinking about the integument surrounding secretive and violent organizations enables us to assimilate the embarrassing fact that pieces of the United States of America contributed to the formation of the Al Qaeda organization following the Soviet invasion of Afghanstan. Responsibilities are multiple, and need to be shared. Third: citizensí movements against violence, and for transparency and democracy, will emerge ñ have already emerged -- in many Muslim countries and in Muslim immigrant and exile communities around the world. Reflecting an intense moral condemnation of the horrors of September 11, these movements will be critical to weakening the terroristsí political shield and undermining their prestige. Recognizing them and crediting them can help to contradict representations of Muslims as terrorists in Western popular discourse ñ in turn a contribution to easing the burden that Muslim anti-terrorists bear. And, finally, the world struggle against poverty and desperation is urgent; it cannot be a secondary concern, set aside until the emergency is over.
 

How far these lessons actually are from current American foreign policy is difficult to know; our attention is riveted on the deployment of hardware and troops while the word ìwarî has been chosen to summarize what lies ahead. The qualification that the ìwarî will be unlike any other we have ever known does not adequately dispel what this word conjures: battles between opposing sides, the fear of retaliation, an unrealistic expectation of victory. The alternative word ìstruggleî (which, by the way, does not preclude military action) should replace the word ìwarî in our national rhetoric about terrorism. Ultimately, struggles against secretive and violent organizations have their best chance if they go forward along multiple paths: investigations and prosecutions, citizensí mobilizations against corruption and violence, and a concerted effort to address the millions whose children have no future.

 
Jane Schneider, Graduate Center, City University of New York
Work: 212-817-8014
janeschneider@compuserve.com
 
Peter Schneider, Fordham University
Work: 212-636-6395
schneider@fordham.edu

September 11: Contexts and Consequences
edited by Misha Klein and Adrian McIntyre
Department of Anthropology at UC Berkeley
 
available for purchase at: CopyCentral, 2560 Bancroft Way in Berkeley
(between College and Telegraph), tel. 510-858-8649, email: muji@copycentral.com.
 
The cost of this 600-page reader is $41.68 + tax. Within the next week or two copies of the anthology will also be available on reserve in libraries around the Bay Area, including UC Berkeley, the Berkeley Public Libraries, and other colleges and universities. The goal of this anthology is not to answer all the questions provoked by the 9/11 attacks or their aftermath, but instead to provide a collection of resources to promote critical thinking and informed debate.
 
 
Table of Contents:
 
Section I: Geographical, Historical, and Cultural Background
* Map of the Middle East and Central Asia: Political Boundaries, 1990.
* Ian Manners and Barbara Parmenter, "The Middle East: A Geographical Essay," 1996.
* Gail Bensinger, "Muslims, Arabs and misconceptions," 2001.
* San Francisco Chronicle, "Zones of Conflict: Central Asia and the Middle East at a Glance," 2001.
* Excerpt from The Cambridge Encyclopedia of the Middle East and North Africa, 1998.
* Rosanne Klass, "The Great Game Revisited," 1987.
* Fredrik Barth, "Cultural Wellsprings of Resistance in Afghanistan," 1987.
* Ashraf Ghani, "Gulab: An Afghan Schoolteacher," 1993.
* Ahmed Rashid, "High on Heroin: Drugs and the Taliban Economy," 2000.
* Ahmed Rashid, "Dictators and Oil Barons: The Taliban and Central Asia, Russia, Turkey and Israel," 2000.
* Elizabeth Fernea, "Islamic Civilization, A.D. 650-1600," 1996.
* John Williams, "The Word of God: The Qur'an," 1994.
* Mohammed Arkoun, selections from Rethinking Islam: Common Questions, Uncommon Answers, 1994.
* Laura Nader, "Orientalism, Occidentalism and the Control of Women," 1989.
* Elizabeth Fernea and Robert Fernea, "Behind the Veil," 1986.
* Talal Asad, "The Idea of an Anthropology of Islam," 1986.
* Joel Beinin and Joe Stork, "On the Modernity, Historical Specificity, and International Context of Political Islam," 1997.
* Lisa Hajjar, Mouin Rabbani and Joel Beinin, "Palestine and the Arab-Israeli Conflict for Beginners," 1989.
* Russell Schoch, "A Conversation with Beshara Doumani," 2001.
* Edward Said, "The Formation of American Public Opinion on the Question of Palestine," 1982.
* Dwight Reynolds, "Language, Translation, Culture, Conflict," 1991.
* Edward Said, "Ignorant Armies Clash by Night," 1991.
* Thomas Nagy, "The Secret Behind the Sanctions: How the U.S. Intentionally Destroyed Iraq's Water Supply," 2001.
* Marie-Aimée Hélie-Lucas, "The Original Sin and Internationalism, 1995.
* Noam Chomsky, "Rogue States," 2000.
* Pierre Bourdieu, "Abuse of Power by the Advocates of Reason," 1995.
* Michael Sells, "Resource List for the General Reader, Student, and non-Specialist: Islamic Cultural and Civilization and the Sept. 11 Tragedy," 2001.
* Mikhail Gorbachev, "Open Letter to George W. Bush," 2000.
 
Section II: Terrorism
* Pablo Neruda, "Keeping Quiet."
* David Whittaker, "Definition of Terrorism" and "Counter-terrorism: Ethical and Legal Considerations," 2001.
* Mark LeVine, "10 Things to Know About Terrorism," 2001.
* Chalmers Johnson, "Terrorism," 1982.
* Edward Said, "The Essential Terrorist," 1988.
* Ali Abunimah, "Terrorism's Real Locale," 2000.
* Gore Vidal, "The Meaning of Timothy McVeigh," 2001.
* William Beeman, "Terrorism: Community Based or State Supported?"
* World Islamic Front, "Jihad Against Jews and Crusaders," 1998.
* Bernard Lewis, "License to Kill," 1998.
* John Miller, "Interview with Osama bin Laden," 1998.
* Mary Anne Weaver, "The Real bin Laden," 2000.
* Reuel Marc Gerecht, "The Counterterrorist Myth," 2001.
 
 
Section III: War and Violence
* Edna St. Vincent Millay, "Apostrophe to Man," 1934.
* David Riches, "The Phenomenon of Violence," 1986.
* Hannah Arendt, excerpt from On Violence, 1969.
* Carole Nagengast, "Violence, Terror, and the Crisis of the State," 1994.
* Jane Margold, "From 'Cultures of Fear and Terror' to the Normalization of Violence: An Ethnographic Case," 1999.
* Arthur Kleinman, "The Violences of Everyday Life: The Multiple Forms and Dynamics of Social Violence," 2000.
* Hannah Arendt, Preface to The Origins of Totalitarianism, 1st ed., 1951.
* Ghaus Ansari, "The Role of Anthropology in the World Crises," 1975.
* Margaret Mead, "Warfare is Only an Invention - Not a Biological Necessity," 1940.
* Robert Park, "The Social Function of War," 1941.
* Sigmund Freud, "Why War?" 1932.
* Stasa Zajovic, "Birth, Nationalism and War," 1995.
* Reuven Firestone, "Islam and Holy War," 1999.
* Hamid Algar, "The Problem of Retaliation in Modern Warfare from the Point of View of Fiqh."
* Harumi Befu, "Demonizing the 'Other'," 1999.
* Yaacov Schul and Henri Zukier, "Why Do Stereotypes Stick?" 1999.
* George Lakoff, "Metaphor and War: The Metaphor System Used to Justify War in the Gulf," 1991.
* Kurt Vonnegut, excerpt from Slaughterhouse Five, 1966.
* W. H. Auden, "September 1, 1939."
* Edna St. Vincent Millay, "Conscientious Objector," 1934.
 
Section IV: Post-9/11 Commentaries
* Paul Dosh, "September 11" and "No Such Thing as a Precision Bomb."
* William Beeman, "Why Are We So Hated? Looking Beyond Osama Bin Laden."
* Noam Chomsky, "On the Bombings."
* Tamim Ansary, "Bomb Afghanistan to Stone Age? It's Been Done."
* Chris Toensing, "The Harm Done to Innocents."
* George Lakoff, "September 11, 2001."
* Robert Fisk, "Bush is Walking into a Trap."
* Fritz Utzeri, "Those Who Raise Wolves..."
* George Monbiot, "The Need for Dissent."
* Robin Morgan, "Ghosts and Echoes."
* Ariel Dorfman, "America Looks at Itself Through Humanity's Mirror."
* Jacob Levich, "Happy New Year: It's 1984."
* Susan Sontag, essay from The New Yorker.
* David Talbot, "The 'Traitor' Fires Back."
* Tariq Ali, "The Kingdom of Corruption: The Saudi Connection."
* Edward Said, "Collective Passion."
* Edward Said, "Backlash and Backtrack."
* Ashraf Ghani, "The Folly of Quick Action in Afghanistan."
* Barbara Kingsolver, "Jingoism Isn't Patriotism."
* Arundhati Roy, "The Algebra of Infinite Justice."
* Barbara Lee, "Why I Voted Against War."
* Robert Fisk, "Lost in the Rhetorical Fog of War."
* William Beeman, "Why U.S. Anti-Terrorist Message Won't Fly in Islamic World."
* Chalmers Johnson, "Blowback."
* Tariq Ali, "The Eichmann Scenario: An Alternative to War."
* John Pilger, "Hidden Agenda Behind War on Terror."
* Suheir Hammad, "First Writing Since."
 

Taleban: The Word
by M. Jamil Hanifi
Retired Professor of Anthropology
Independent Scholar
Anthropology and History of Afghanistan
hanifi@msu.edu
 
In Western discourse the neo-fundamentalist Taleban movement, and the noun from which it is derived, are awkwardly, often incorrectly, represented. In Paxtu (Pakhtu, Pashto, Pushtu) the movement is rendered da talebano ghorzang and in Dari (Afghan Farsi), jonbesh-e taleban. In Paxtu and Dari usage the noun taleb (student, seeker of knowledge) is gendered and the second vowel in the nown is the short e, not the long i. In the local settings taleb is used for singular male, taleban for plural male and the movement and, theoretically, taleba for singular female, taleban (Dari) and talebany (Paxtu) for plural female.
 
In English renditions it would be correct to say "Taleban" for the movement and plural male (as locally used), "Taleb" for singular male and "Talebs" for plural male. Thus, one can correctly say: The Taleban (or Talebs') movement included thousands of Pakistani Talebs, hundreds of Tajiks, many Uzbeks and one Taleb from the United States. Every Taleb was required to grow a beard. Some, not all, Talebs (Taleban) were Paxtuns. The movement's Supreme Council included a number of one-eyed and one-legged Talebs. The Taleban are no longer in control of Kabul.
 

DISTORTING THEORY AND MISREADING SOCIETY IN AFGHANISTAN
M. Jamil Hanfii
Former Professor of Anthropology, NIU
Independent Scholar, Anthropology and History of Afghanistan
hanifi@msu.edu
 
Posted 11/7/02
 
 
This is in response to M. Nazif Shahrani's piece titled "The Taliban Enigma: Person-Centered Politics & Extremism in Afghanistan" posted on this website and originally published in ISIM Newsletter 6, October 2000, pp. 20-21. Crucial ethnographic details, structural principles and historical processes, especially those dealing with social inequality and political instability in contemporary Afghanistan, are misunderstood, garbled, and oversimplified by the author. Shahrani deliberately distorts a number of theoretical views in the social sciences and ethnographic facts apparently in order to fit his confused conception of history, society, and relations of power in Afghanistan.
 
The author has the habit of invoking well-known authors and their theoretical frameworks without spelling out his understanding of them. It is rather curious that a Western trained Afghan (Uzbek) "anthropologist" anchors an ostensibly anthropological analysis of social conditions in a complex Central Asian society and culture in judgmental idioms borrowed from a Western economist whose Eurocentric ideas of "efficiency" and "poor performance" are merely codes for condemning non-European, non-industrial societies. Perhaps unwittingly, Shahrani plays into the hand of European racism when he invokes the economist Douglass C. North's notions of "persistent poor performance" in his interpretation of Afghan history, society. North's approach is inherently incompatible with the basic tenants of anthropology. In the opening sentence of his piece, a quotation from North, Shahrani deceptively inserts his own words "socio-political and economic" without an explanation. North's institutional analysis is aimed specifically at Western notions of various forms of material "efficiency" and Western views of "the consequences of institutions for economic (or societal) performance" (parenthesis in the original, emphasis added)1, not what Shahrani first calls "socio-political" and three sentences later "political culture." More importantly, Shahrani makes no attempt to apply North's understanding of "efficiency" and "poor performance" to any specific set of social and economic conditions in Afghanistan. His essay contains neither a description nor analysis of ethnographic or statistical economic data on Afghanistan, leaving the reader in the dark with the mere abstraction of "political ecological and socio-economic realities shaping the contest" in Afghanistan. Questions about the nature of "political ecological and socio-economic realities", "the contest", the contestants, issues and stakes in the contest, and the regional and global contexts of the contest remain unanswered. An anthropological analysis would treat this contest as a predictable adaptive response and process transpiring at the inevitable confluence of the historical past and the ethnographic present and would dispassionately spell out the specific ethnographic "realities" involved and not merely wax condemnations of Paxtun society and culture in Afghanistan
 
To Shahrani "person-centered politics" is the "crucial characteristic of Afghan political culture" and "[p]erson-centered politics, the cornerstone of kin-based mode of Pushtun tribal social and political organization, has been the defining attribute of Afghan politics since the creation of Pushtun-dominated centralized polity in the mid *18th century." The leap from "Afghan" to "Pushtun" and the frequent divergent and interchangeable uses of the two categories and the confusion of "Afghan political culture" with "Pushtun tribal social and political organization" characterize this piece and other of Shahrani's chapters in various edited books. Given this orientation (and the citation of Wolf for it), readers are primed to expect at least an unadulterated reading of a benchmark anthropological study of the expansion of European capitalism, where Wolf identifies "[t]he kin-ordered mode of production"2 and argues that when kin-ordered leadership acquires enhanced economic resources, i. e. surplus, its mode of production changes "from a set of interpersonal relations" to "a governing ideological element in the allocation of political power."3 Kin-ordered modes of production are usually found in societies where there is little or no surplus. Shahrani concocts out of this his "kin-based mode of Pushtun tribal social and political organization" ignoring the reality of regular surplus producing pastoralism and intensive agriculture among Paxtuns and all the other groups in Afghanistan. Substituting "based" for "ordered" and overlooking the typological differences between a foraging subsistence economy and a surplus-producing agricultural and/or pastoral economy cannot be simply matters of narrative style or technical errors.
 
Nowhere are readers told what the author's understanding of the Marxist concept of "political economy" is and how he applies it to Afghanistan. Thus the meaning of the "person-centered, kin-based" version of this economy remains obscure and suspended. Shahrani confuses "political economy", the structural arrangements that pertain to the production, accumulation, and distribution of economic surplus, or the formal academic procedure that attempts "to lay bare the laws or regularities surrounding the production of wealth" 4 with what Western functionalist political scientists call "political culture", sentiments and cultural values that are considered diagnostic of a specific political process and behavior. Shahrani's inability to appreciate the "relational" framework of the synthesis between "theoretically informed history and historically informed theory"5, coupled with the perversion of established theoretical frameworks are either due to ideological blinders or understandings that are uninformed, contradictory and unsupportable by the ethnography and history of Afghanistan and the region.
 
Elsewhere, in attempting to reduce structural features to personalities, narrow and specific articulations of social relations in the abstract Shahrani, without any explanation, equates his garbled understanding of "kin-based personalized politics…of the person-centered, Pashtun-dominated, Afghan political culture" with Edward C. Banfield's typological formulation of "amoral familism".6 In so doing, he relegates the Paxtuns explicitly (and all Afghans by implication since he frequently interchanges Afghan with Paxtun) to a Westerner's racist views. But he does so by first tampering with Banfield's original ideas of "amoral familism". In the 1950s Banfield, a political scientist, conducted a study of the Montegrano, a small peasant community in Southern Italy, based on field observations and the interpretation of a single picture in a thematic apperception test given to 31 individuals. He concluded that the underdevelopment of the Montegrano peasants qualified them for being lumped with the non-Western World. As a remedial measure for their underdevelopment he hinted at "[c]hanging the ethos" of these Italians by introducing "Protestant missionaries".7 Banfield had hypothesized "that the Montegranesi act as if they were following this rule: Maximize the material, short*run advantage of the nuclear family; assume that all others will do likewise" (emphasis added).8 Shahrani changes "rule" to "tendency" and attributes the idea of "amoral familism" to Banfield as "a tendency to 'maximize material, short-run advantage of the … family [and kin], assuming that all others will do like-wise'" (spacing and brackets in the original). Changing "rule" to "tendency", deleting "nuclear" and inserting "kin" and similar tampering behavior elsewhere are breaches of academic standards that cast serious doubt on the integrity of the author's writings about Afghanistan. On the face of it and at the minimum this is an attempt to make racist generalizations about southern Italian peasantry fit stereotypical and distorted views of the people of Afghanistan. Even if Shahrani had not modified Banfield's language, he would have been only speaking of some urban dwellers in Afghanistan (less than 15% of the total population), including western oriented urban Afghan elite and merchants who dominated the country and who were intimately familiar with the social formation called a "nuclear family." The vast majority of Afghans live in larger, extended versions of the family. Moreover, those who are inspired by "amoral familism" should realize that Banfield was oblivious to the historical context of Montegrano society, a society that was successfully adapting to a number of hostile Italian national power structures and a political atmosphere that inhibited larger social arrangements including extra-familial formal groupings. Nevertheless, while Banfield clearly states the bases for his conclusions, Shahrani offers no historical or ethnographic or demographic evidence whatsoever for the application of "amoral familism" (even in his crafty manipulation of this typology) to the Paxtuns and other ethnic groups in Afghansitan.
 
It is well known that the author was intimately connected with a non-Paxtun faction of the U. S. sponsored terrorists ("mujahidin", Muslim holy warriors to him)9 who were to be state rulers of Afghanistan. Reminiscent of Banfield's suggested religious based solution to a concocted social problem among the Montegrano, the mujahidin terrorists and their "born again" Muslim Afghan supporters, also openly proposed fundamentalist Islamic solutions to what they perceived as problems of Afghanistan. The now defunct Taleban regime was essentially promulgating and implementing, albeit with zeal and symbolic emphasis, the ideology and policies of those Islamic solutions, solutions that Shahrani and his mujahidin subscribed to. It is difficult to avoid concluding that for Shahrani the Talebs'overt Paxtunness made them less legitimate as the implementers of these solutions. He writes that "Talibanism" is "the inevitable culmination of the person-centered Pashtun-dominated, Afghan political culture". And equates "Talibanism" with "amoral familism" and "kin-based personalized politics" but he offers no analytical bridge or ethnographic or historical evidence for this equation. Nor does he establish an analytical relationship between Talibanism and the "person-centered Pashtun-dominated, Afghan culture", rendering the "Taliban Enigma" in the title of the article meaningless.
 
Shahrani equates the Arabic concept of "jam'at" (sic) society organized around Islamic principles with the secular Western concept of "[C]ivil [S]ociety", a central subject for prominent European writers such as John Locke, Adam Smith, Georg Wilhelm, Karl Marx, Alexis de Tocqueville, Antonio Gramsci. Characteristically, Shahrani neither states his own understanding of this typology nor does he tell us which version of civil society he has in mind. Elsewhere, without mentioning its genealogy he invokes the concept of "[S]ocial [C]apital" and imposes on it notions that are removed from Pierre Bourdieu's original construction of the idea. To Bourdieu social capital is "made up of social obligations ('connections'), which is convertible, under certain conditions, into economic capital and may be institutionalized in the form of a title of nobility" (parenthetical quotation in the original).10 Were this application to be meaningful Shahrani would have had to tell the reader how his notion of "trust" figures in Bourdieu's foundational concept of social capital and how was trust "institutionalized" within Shahrani's ideal "circle of family and close kin or at most one's own ethnolinguistic group" in Afghanistan, and what conditions have "caused the general erosion of trust" in those communities. To suggest that stark trust-eroding structures of inequality, induced by capitalism (operated mostly by non-Paxtuns), within ethnic and other local borders, did not exist in Afghanistan denies the social and historical realities of the country. Tensions within and between ethnic groups in Afghanistan and elsewhere inevitably revolved around unequal access to material resources and center-articulated structures of power. This center has always been dominated by non-Paxtuns.
 
Finally, a brief comment about gender relations in Afghanistan, a subject that evokes great passion among Europeans and, only very recently, among Afghan intellectuals. Mistreatment of women and gender inequity were used as a pretext for the recent European military occupation of the country. Apparently Shahrani believes that before the ascendance of the Talebs in 1996 Afghanistan was free of gender segregation and inequality. He asserts that the Talebs' "real claim to infamy comes from the imposition of a policy of 'Gender Apartheid' directed against the girls and women of Afghanistan". This is indeed perplexing! What former regime in Afghanistan cannot be identified with such an "imposition"? Shahrani must have in mind a country other than Afghanistan, the country of our birth, enculturation, primary and secondary schooling, and ethnographic research. The rudiments and structures of gender apartheid and inequality have been defining fixtures of everyday social life for centuries in the region of which Afghanistan is a part. This kind of blatant ethnographic and historical misrepresentation (or perhaps misunderstanding!) together with the crafty manipulation of various theories and theoretical ideas raises serious academic questions. Cloaking a bizarre patchwork of mangled fragments of theoretical ideas and formulations by various economists, political scientists, and sociologists with the prestige of an academic title in an anthropology program, besides being a bad academic habit, does not qualify for an anthropological (or for that matter, social science) contribution. But to be fair, Shahrani himself has not explicitly claimed for this genre of his writings (post-1979, ever since he dropped "Mohib" from his name) an anthropological label. The label that might fit would neither be scholarly nor academic.
 
The post-1992 Afghan Islamist regimes, including the Talebs were not really enigmas. What is enigmatic, however, is the myth of Paxtun rule and domination in Afghanistan, a myth that Shahrani naively embraces and invokes with heated passion and puts forward as a historical and ethnographic fact. This myth can be debunked with a simple straightforward empirical observation. Based on a vast amount of theoretical and ethnographic comparative literature on language as a tool of domination and construction of relations of power, in multiethnic and multilingual societies like Afghanistan, the language of the dominant ethnic group (even when it is a numerical minority) is the language with which structures of political and economic power are articulated and it is this language that provides privileged access to these structures. The dominant group is invariably monolingual in its own language. On the other hand, the dominated groups are overwhelmingly bilingual. They are forced to adopt, alongside their own language, the language of the dominant group. Let us now ask Shahrani: Which ethnic group in Afghanistan was overwhelmingly monolingual? Which ethnic groups were overwhelmingly bilingual or trilingual? If he correctly answers these questions, his expatiations about the domination of Afghanistan as a state structure by Paxtuns are invalid and totally unfounded.
 
By manipulating Islam and practicing ethnic dissimulation, the Persianized Durrani governments, through a variety of tactics, chief among them, the playing of one ethnic group against another and shi'a against sunni, were able to rule Afghanistan and keep ethnic tensions barely below the boiling point. In this bloody enterprise they enjoyed the support of all non-Paxtuns. The 1978 overthrow of the last of these Persianized and Persian-dominated governments in Afghanistan and the subsequent United States reaction of creating, financing, and managing the terrorist freedom fighters/mujahidin in a phony Islamic "jihad" against the legitimate central government of Afghanistan destroyed the national market and the fragile center-periphery relationship in the country. For fourteen years the ethnically based mujahidin factions were pitted against each other in a bloody contest for the favor of their patrons and competition for the resources of cash and guns supplied by the United States and locally distributed by the government of Pakistan. One major consequence of this "jihad" has been the unleashing of ethnic hostilities in Afghanistan. Non-Paxtuns (like Shahrani) desperately and understandably insist on return to the "status quo ante", what was a non-Paxtun-dominated state. The Paxtuns, on the other hand, advocate an arrangement where their perceived numerical majority would guarantee them prominence in central government. An objectively constructed model of government that will creatively blend these (not necessarily opposed) positions will likely succeed in a reconstructed Afghanistan.
 
 
NOTES
 
1. North, Douglas C. (1990), Institutions, Institutional Change and Economic Performance, Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, p. 3. For North's ideas of "efficiency" see pp. 51, 80-81, 92, 94.
2. Wolf, Eric R. (1982), Europe and the People Without History. Berkeley: University of California
Press, p. 88.
3. Ibid., p. 93
4. Ibid., p. 19.
5. Ibid., p. 21.
6. The idea of "Amoral Familism" is from Edward C. Banfield (1958), The Moral Basis of a
Backward Society, Glenco, Illinois: The Free Press. Shahrani mistakenly locates this racist
typology in Edward C. Banfield (1970), The Unheavenly City, Boston: Little Brown.
7. Idem., (1958), pp. 170-171.
8. Ibid., p. 85.
9. Shahrani, M. Nazif (1994), 'Honored guest and marginal man: long-term field research and
predicament of a native anthropologist', in: D. D. Fowler and D. L. Hardesty (eds.), Others Knowing
Others. Washington, D. C.,: Smithsonian Institution Press, pp. 15-67.
10. Pierre Bourdieu (1986), 'The Forms of Capital', in: J. L. Richardson (ed.), Handbook of Theory
and Research for the Sociology of Education. New York: Greenwood Press, pp. 241-258.
.
Thinking the Unthinkable:
Anthropological Meditations on the Events of 11 September 2001
Glenn Bowman
[Director of the MA in the Anthropology of Ethnicity, Nationalism and Identity at the University of Kent]
 
The editor of Anthropology Today asked me, an anthropologist with field experience of West Bank Palestinians, to comment on the events of 11 September. What follows is a meditation on the complexities of identity formation and reformation in the wake of catastrophe. As an anthropologist born and raised in the U.S. but who trained and remained in Great Britain, I will here use my own subjective responses to the 11 September attacks and their aftermath as objects of reflection. In doing so, I follow David Pocock's lead in calling for an anthropology of the personal which demands that anthropologists attend to "the unique experience which individual people have of individual events" (1) as a central feature of conceptualising the social as a process in history. Using my identifications with processes occurring in my own culture as objects of analysis diverges somewhat from Pocock's programme of calling on anthropologists to reflect on their identifications with processes occurring elsewhere, but I argue below that our professional positioning as 'strangers' and 'translators' should enable us to see our own experiences comparatively, thus allowing a distance on the commonsensical which provides new perspectives. Here my responses to the calamitous events which took place on 11 September are marked with contradiction and ambivalence, and I attempt - as an anthropologist - to use the complexity of those responses, and of their subsequent insertion into public discourses, as a means of thinking anthropologically about identification and identity. The reflexivity of my approach, which sites me simultaneously as subject and object, foregrounds issues of the possible social roles of anthropologists in 'thinking through' social traumas and contributing to debates on their significances. I therefore attempt, in discussing others's responses to some of these reflections which I delivered in public fora in the weeks following the events, to recall to more general awareness the multiple identifications which constitute everyone's everyday experiences which are, in periods of ideological mobilization, systematically disavowed or forgotten.
 
Strangers at Home
 
The politics of our own responses, as individual anthropologists, will depend to a large degree on our personal histories. I would like here to think more generally about the question of how anthropological training and research per se might affect our reactions to traumatic events. In the field we will often identify with subject positions provided by the cultures we study. This leads me to demur somewhat from Michael Agar's conclusions that anthropologists are "professional strangers" (2). Nonetheless, anthropological training and fieldwork in other cultures can succeed in 'making strange' the anthropologist's own home culture. We return as both a native and a stranger (3) with our own perspective on everyday things and events complicated by a learned but not necessarily intentional tendency to break out of the ready-made contexts in which everyday life packages these and to relate them to cultural patterns and processes known from other spaces.
 
This process of defamiliarisation is like the poetic device of ostranenie central to Russian formalist poetics in which "by tearing the object out of its habitual context, by bringing together disparate notions, the poet gives a coup de grâce to the verbal cliché and to the stock responses attendant upon it and forces us into heightened awareness of things and their sensory texture" (4). Although the process of recontextualisation works within the repertoire of the poet's culture, both it and anthropological recontextualisation (which views the events and processes of one culture with reference to those of others) share in splitting the observer's perspective so that cultural artefacts are simultaneously seen from different viewpoints.
 
How can our vision informed by anthropology contribute to understanding the events of the eleventh of September and their implications? In part through observing phenomena in the process of emerging. What we have watched over the past five weeks - and what we will continue to observe until the issues raised by the attacks are 'settled' - is the transformation of an event into a narrative with closure. The attacks on the World Trade Centre and the Pentagon, as well as the less-emphasized hijacking of the fourth aircraft, produced 'wounds' (literally traumas) on those persons and communities penetrated by those events (which, with a global media, is all of us). The initial and often enduring effect of trauma is a period of confusion and disruption when victims attempt to cope with the symptoms of the attack and reestablish autonomy and equilibrium (5). This is achieved through a process of representing - of story-telling - which names and offers motivations to the parties involved (aggressor and victim, allies and enemies) and hypothesises relations which 'explain' what happened and why while simultaneously choreographing appropriate responses. Such narrative 'fixing' reestablishes the traumatized body as an entity able to act in the world while reestablishing the world itself as a place in which appropriate actions give rise to desired ends.
 
Events are worked into a story line by rejecting or forgetting elements of the trauma-inducing event and reworking much of the rest. Anyone watching the first few hours of news reportage of 11 September will have observed the stuttering, occasionally retracted, emergence from the confused images on the screen of a story line that made sense of what came to be relayed as 'the whole'. Subsequent developments - the Sherlock Holmes-like upturning of clues and unmasking of villains - gave body to the story, and propped up the work of substituting 'the facts' for trauma. It is here that anthropologists, trained to observe and take note of the manifold activities and assertions that go into social formations, can have a role in charting the course of the story as it unfolds. This involves recalling the details of its emergence and noting and assessing what others will tend to disavow or forget as the story moves towards closure. This is particularly important because - as I will suggest below - such processes of disavowal and forgetting are often structured by agencies which seek to ensure that the identities which emerge from the wreckage of those events are amenable to scripts those agencies are authoring for enactment on the stage of the new world order.
 
An Encounter
 
 
I will not here attempt a chronicling of the events of the day and those that have followed them (although I have, like many of us, kept a record). I want instead to note my initial - uncomfortable - responses to the attacks, and to analyse them as a means of critically approaching the topic of identity reconstruction after trauma. Insofar as my project in this paper is to present an anthropologically-informed perspective on processes transforming calamitous events into consensual narratives, it is imperative not only that the stages through which those processes proceed are rendered as transparently as possible but also that the particular subjectivity which constitutes those processes through articulation is offered to analysis.
 
At a little before three pm of a day spent working on an ethnography of the West Bank town I've studied over the past fifteen years I took a cup of coffee into my living room and turned on BBC News 24. At that point both World Trade Centre towers were in flames but neither had collapsed, the Pentagon had just been struck, and news was coming in of a possible fourth airliner down in Pennsylvania. The reportage, mirrored on the other channels (both American and British), was confused and offered rumours and repeated and unintegrated images of destruction and people responding to it supplemented by bits of other information relayed as it came in with neither confirmation nor - in most cases B follow-up. There was little if any narrative, and the impression was that everyone involved in the event and its reportage was suffering a traumatic sensory overload.
 
My immediate response to the images erupting from the television screen was to laugh incredulously, amazed that America was finally receiving a metaphoric punch in the nose. I did not yet know who had thrown the punch (the targets initially suggested to me that it was some element of the anti-globalisation movement), but I was stunned at the efficiency with which whomever had carried out the attacks had managed so 'cleanly' to 'take out' those symbols of American global hegemony.
 
The bizarre incongruity of the real presenting itself as a disaster movie and the apocalyptic and totalizing logic of dream or cheap fiction which seemed to manifest itself in the unfolding events may have been a pretext for denying the reality of the events, provoking laughter as an initial means of dealing with the trauma. Nevertheless there was also a sense of vindication. My experiences in the Third World - and my addiction to news and analysis of global politics - have frequently brought me into contact with harsh and often brutal manifestations of US power both in the shape of economic dominion over production and exchange and as military suppression - sometimes directly but more often by proxy - of the aspirations of nations and communities. I have also, through working closely over nearly twenty years with communities victimized by American foreign policies, internalized to some degree the perspectives of those who see America not as a beacon of freedom and development but as the centre which disseminates the policies and the funds which dispossess them of their lands, their rights and often their lives. For me and, I suspect, for many others who live and have lived outside of American borders, the World Trade Centre and the Pentagon - while indubitably directly implicated in those processes of control and domination - seemed less the literal command centres of American global control than symbols of America's overwheening confidence in its ability to make the rest of the world march to its orders. Their symbolic erasure could be seen as a fantasy disempowerment, not unlike that which operates in dreams and cartoons. The falling of the towers, like the toppling of the seemingly unstoppable titan by the discarded banana skin, seemed a sign that America's days of irresponsible dominion were over, and that it, from that moment on, would be forced to join that community of the rest of the globe's nations which makes do with slighter glories in a world ruled by gravity, uncertainty, contingency and compromise (6).
 
But despite the seduction of what I will call the 'symbolic' interpretation of the events, I was, on a level beneath articulated consciousness, becoming increasingly aware of what the images in front of me were likely to mean in terms of human lives. The contortions of my disavowal of what was happening in human terms became increasingly more elaborate and unbelievable until it simply and abruptly collapsed, leaving me defenceless in front of the horror unfolding before me. I spent the next several hours stunned and distraught, feeling not only for and with people I could see running, crying and dying in front of the journalists' cameras but also imagining what it was like for those in the hijacked aircraft as they became aware of what they were helplessly caught up in, for those in the upper stories of the burning buildings as the inevitability of their deaths revealed itself, and for those filing slowly down crowded and smoke-darkened staircases as the buildings began to collapse onto them. This second phase of my response was not symbolic, but came from an identification with the victims not as 'Americans' but as human beings. The work of empathy which, in the field, opens one to the possibility of being able to see the world through the other's eyes here, through the television screen, interpellated me viscerally into the positions of the multiple victims of the World Trade Centre attacks. These two moments of identification with the other sequentially produced in me two sets of identification with positions which were ideologically incommensurate.
 
The Mirror of the Terrorist
 
 
As the media and the spokespersons of the American and other allied governments began to firm up the story 'underlying' the events, identity formations throughout the world were both vigorously asserted and radically destabilized. It was striking to read interviews of New Yorkers saying that after years of never acknowledging neighbours and passers-by suddenly everyone was talking with everyone else and feeling part of a big close community. As an anthropologist who has closely studied the violent imaginaries which give rise to identities (7), what struck me about this new communitas was what it was asserted against. 'Evil' - a metaphysical term - emerged powerfully as the one unquestionable characteristic of the unknown entity (or entities) which had 'declared war' on America and, in so doing, created a defensive 'bloc' against that evil's antagonism. In America people were becoming 'a people' in response to their awareness of something they saw as willing and able to destroy them all (8). The logic of that polarizing discourse, fuelled by fear both of similar acts of terrorism and of the U.S. government's threats against non-compliants, generated throughout much of the rest of the world a scramble by political leaders to assert solidarity with America and claim shared identity as representatives of the 'civilization' the evil other was attempting to extinguish. As evidence began to emerge of the implication of 'Arabs' in the attacks, the antagonist quickly took form as 'Islamic terrorism'. This created substantial conundrums about whether or not one could be both a Muslim and an American9 and whether 'Islam' had a place in the 'civilisation' that America and its allies were mobilizing to protect or was it itself a terrorist religion. The media's erasure of internal differences, theological and regional, within Islam provided a new audience for Samuel Huntington's rhetoric about 'the clash of civilizations' (10.)
 
This Manichaean language of 'us' and 'them' not only forged a strong community of American and its allies united against 'terror' but also, in turn (as a similar rhetoric had earlier done in what came to be 'Former Yugoslavia'), began to shape an 'other' united against that alliance out of the diverse communities of those who felt themselves addressed by America's antagonism. Increasingly visible anti-Islamic statements and activities helped to incite the 'Muslim street' - already bewildered by its political leaders' willingness to embrace the new crusade of a Christian West which had never shown sympathy for or sensitivity to Muslim concerns - to begin to articulate a unitary Islam at risk. The very real dangers of splitting the world into opposed camps along the tear lines of Islam and Christianity as well as of inciting popular revolts in Muslim countries against those nations= governments were only forestalled - and perhaps only temporarily - by some deft redefinitional footwork by the alliance's leading members who, publically drawing careful distinctions between 'Muslims' and 'terrorists', welcomed Muslim citizens and Muslim nations into the community of those opposed to terror.
 
In Britain, in the days following the events, various public institutions organized fora in which 'experts' could address the issues and answer questions from audiences concerned to gather and evaluate information for themselves. As an anthropologist with experience of the Middle East generally and of the Palestinian experience in particular I was approached to take part in three of these. During the first meeting I spoke of the danger of the U.S. and its allies 'mirroring' the logic of the attackers by assuming that its enemies were motivated by nothing but a will to evil. In so doing the enemy would be made into a symbol - a symbol of antagonistic opposition to everything 'we' stand for - and symbolic erasure would then be the only way of dealing with its existence.
 
I spoke too of the logics of various fundamentalisms, and suggested that their assumption that they represent an unquestionable truth had fostered a narcissism allocating to believers the self-determined right to impose their wills on all they judged 'infidel'. It was not surprising, I suggested, that Afghans who grew up in the radical poverty of the Pakistani refugee camps were drawn to align themselves unreservedly with the only thing of power they encountered in their exile - the word of God as revealed in the madaaris (religious schools) from whence the Taliban would emerge. Their fundamentalism, grounded in deracination and radical impoverishment, opposed them not only to foreign countries which were seen to oppose Islam but to the multi-ethnic and traditionally tolerant culture of Afghanistan itself which they, on 'returning' to the homeland, found 'un-Islamic' (11.) In blowing up monuments to false idols such as the Buddhas of the Bamiyan Valley or in stripping Afghani women of their rights to everything but brute survival, the Taliban were carrying out their self-imposed mission to make the world over to accord with their image of how it should be, and the support of their leaders for Osama Bin Laden and his al-Qaeda network reflected a shared dedication to erasing their 'other'.
 
I argued, however, that the allure of 'identity politics', and of the self-certitude which accompanied them, did not operate only on the radically dispossessed. America, in rearing up with 'God on its side' to destroy 'evil', was at risk of turning itself into something similar by so stressing its unity against 'the other' that it effaced its own social and cultural heterogeneity . There was already a strain of fundamentalism in American culture that went beyond that of the 'Pro-Life' Christians who destroyed anti-abortion clinics and the 'anti-ZOG militia' behind the bombing of Oklahoma City's Murah Building. This other and more pervasive fundamentalism - a 'secular fundamentalism' rooted in American self-satisfaction with its way of life - was evidenced in America's unquestioning and enthusiastic drive to impose American values and corporate strategies on the rest of the world. If America, in encountering the terrible rhetoric of the Al-Qaeda actions, was driven to push its cultural narcissism further by defining, targeting, and destroying all groups which it deemed coterminously 'evil', 'terrorist' and 'anti-American', it would be likely to spark a violent world-wide polarization halting in its tracks the globalization it was attempting to promote. Such a move would simultaneously foreground the issue of who within U.S. borders were 'real Americans' and who 'internal traitors'. This would lead to generic disenfranchisement of entire sectors of the American population, radical curtailments of civil rights, increased control over media and other channels of expression, and the purging of American culture and society of all 'alien' and 'improper' influences and activities. If America was impelled by the attacks to remake itself as anti-anti-American it could only win the 'war on terrorism' by destroying itself, and in doing so realizing the objectives of those who had piloted the hijacked planes into the symbols of 20th century American hegemony. I concluded by pointing out that in this context the visual jokes recently disseminated by e-mail and on the web showing the Statue of Liberty in chadoor and a bearded George W. Bush in Taliban headgear seemed somewhat less funny (12).
 
Othering the Self
 
One hundred and twenty years ago Joseph-Ernest Renan said: "Forgetting, I would even go so far as to say historical error, is a crucial factor in the creation of a nation" (13). There is no nation or community that is not constructed. Certainly, over the past five weeks, we have witnessed a tremendous labour of community construction as a sea of images of victimhood, callous viciousness, wrath, and retribution has washed over us, forcing the confused amalgam of response and emotion initially generated in us by the events of 11 September towards the channels of 'consensus'. Images, and the scenarios constructed out of them, have shown us who to identify with and who to hate, and slowly we are learning to sense ourselves 'at home' in the new post-11 September world order. During my second and third public meetings (the former for anthropologists at Kent, the latter for political scientists) I admitted to what I called the 'terrible laughter' which surfaced in me as I watched the erasure of the symbols of American global power. I did this in order to open the audiences to an awareness of another perspective - that of populations which have suffered and resented American 'influence' over their lives. I here saw myself as a translator who, having been somewhat 'creolized' by my profession, lacked a unitary subjectivity and was thus able to speak, as Conrad says, 'with many voices' (14.)
 
What I was surprised to discover among those audiences - and what at least some in those audiences were surprised to discover in themselves - was that others too had initially been able to see the events through the eyes of those who see themselves as endangered and encroached upon by American aspirations. Numerous people came up to me after my 'public confession' to tell me that it made them feel both profoundly uncomfortable and relieved to hear someone admit to a response they too had shared. Many had subsequently forgotten their early response, forcing the memory into abeyance. Others had kept it secret, feeling ashamed and guilty to speak of identifying with and as victims of America when public opinion would only allow one to feel community with Americans as victims.
 
In our fieldwork we observe temporal social processes and deduce from these the shape of structures giving rise to events and forming subjectivities. At home too we can record events and articulations as they emerge and attempt hypotheses about their possible implications before they, as they often do, disappear from social consciousness. As we have witnessed over the past few weeks, history moves quickly after collective trauma, and this is a consequence of rapid changes in the stories we use to make sense of what has happened and of what will follow. Later, time slows again as communities cohere around the representations they use to make sense of the post-trauma world, but with this narrative closure comes an amnesia of sorts about not only the earlier explanatory schemas but also the configurations of perceived events which validated them. Anthropologists can, by remembering these earlier 'worlds' to public audiences, recall to them their own interpellations into earlier mises en scene, thereby making people aware of the constructedness of contemporary images of self and society. Such a denaturalizing of ideology promotes debate, and thus offers platforms for non-hegemonic voices which most of us would agree cannot be a bad thing (15). In some cases, particularly if we are able to view our selves as well as our societies as objects of analysis, we can also take audiences back to a moment before the process of making the 'new world' even began to take effect and, in recalling the unexpected and sometimes unwanted selves which make themselves manifest as crisis ruptures the everyday world, reveal to them that 'self' and 'other' can be but two different voicings of the same being.
 
Notes:
 
1 David Pocock. Social Anthropology. London: Sheed and Ward. 1971. p. 98-99. A powerful example of an anthropology of the personal which is both event-based and reflexivist is Jeanne Favret-Saada's Deadly Words: Witchcraft in the Bocage. (trans.) Catherine Cullen. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 1980.
 
2 Michael Agar. The Professional Stranger: an Informal Introduction to Ethnography. London: Academic Press. 1980. On anthropological identification see my "Radical Empiricism: Anthropological Fieldwork after Psychoanalysis and the Année Sociologique" in Anthropological Journal on European Cultures (special issue: Reflecting Cultural Practice: The Challenge of Fieldwork) VI, 1998, pp. 79-107.
 
3 Paul Rabinow relates that after returning to New York from Morocco he found he was no more at home there than he had been in the field: "the maze of slightly blurred nuance, that feeling of barely grasped meanings which had been my constant companion in Morocco overtook me once again. But now I was home" (Paul Rabinow. Reflections on Fieldwork in Morocco. Berkeley: University of California Press. 1977. p. 148).
 
4 Victor Erlich. 1955. Russian Formalism: History - Doctrine. The Hague: Mouton and Co., p. 150. The French surrealist practice of dépaysement is analogous and, through the work of Michel Leiris, influenced James Clifford (see his "On Ethnographic Surrealism" and "A Poetics of Displacement: Victor Segalen" in The Predicament of Culture: Twentieth Century Ethnography, Literature and Art. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press. 1988. pp. 117-163).
 
5 cf. Elaine Scarry. The Body in Pain: The Making and Unmaking of the World. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 1985.
 
6 Slavoj Zizek said with brutal simplicity: "welcome to the desert of the real" (see his "The Desert of the Real" at http://www.stopworldwar3.com/features/ zizek925.html). His response of 14 September counters that of some elements of the British press which announced in headlines and on posters "we are all Americans now". Zizek effectively said 'Americans are now like all the rest of us'.
 
7 See especially "Xenophobia, fantasy and the nation: the logic of ethnic violence in Former Yugoslavia" in Anthropology of Europe: Identity and Boundaries in Conflict (eds) Victoria Goddard, Llobera Josep & Chris Shore. Oxford: Berg Press. 1994. pp. 143-171 and "`A country of words': conceiving the Palestinian nation from the position of exile" in The Making of Political Identities (ed.) Ernesto Laclau. London: Verso.1994. pp. 138-170.
 
8 On antagonism and identity see Ernesto Laclau and Chantal Mouffe. Hegemony and Socialist Strategy: Towards a Radical Democratic Politics (trans.) Winston Moore and Paul Cammack. London: Verso. 1985. pp. 93-148.
 
9 Muslims and mosques were attacked in several American cities (as well as in British cities), and anomalous facts such as the number of Muslims who died in the World Trade Centre (as well as numerous Muslim Americans there were citizens of Bangladesh, Egypt, Indonesia, Iran, Jordan, Lebanon, Pakistan, Turkey and Yemen amongst the dead and missing - see http://www.airsafe.com/events/nydc.htm) or the role of an Iranian-American pilot in resisting the hijackers of the fourth plane remain largely undivulged.
 
10 See Samuel Huntington, "The Clash of Civilizations? The Next Pattern of Conflict " in Foreign Affairs. Volume 72, No. 3. Summer 1993. pp. 22-49.
 
11 See, for parallel instances, both Liisa Malkki's Purity and Exile: Violence, Memory and National Cosmology among Hutu Refugees in Tanzania (Chicago: University of Chicago Press. 1995. esp. pp. 105-231) and my "The Exilic Imagination: The Construction of the Landscape of Palestine from Its Outside" in The Landscape of Palestine: Equivocal Poetry (eds) Ibrahim Abu-Lughod, Roger Heacock & Khaled Nashef (Birzeit: Birzeit University Publications. 1999. pp. 53-78).
 
12 See http://www. BushSpeaks.com for examples. Image 41 is Bush as Taliban.
 
13 Ernest Renan. 1990. "What is a Nation" (trans. Martin Thom) in Nation and Narration (ed.) Homi Bhabha. London: Routledge. p. 11. Original lecture at the Sorbonne, 11 March 1882.
 
14 In my talks I introduced myself in the following manner: "I am half American, half British and half Palestinian - and I know that doesn't add up". For creolization see Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origins and Spread of Nationalism. London: Verso.1991. pp. 47ff. I am grateful to Charles Stewart for pointing out the relevance of this concept to the argument I am trying to make.
 
15 See, for an interesting example of such debate, "11 September: Some LRB writers reflect on the reasons and consequences" in the London Review of Books (XXIII: 19), 4 October 2001 and the letters responding to those reflections in the two following issues.
 
15 October 2001
 

AN ALTERNATIVE APPROACH TO AFGHANISTAN
By M. Jamil Hanifi
Retired Professor of Anthropology
Independent Scholar, Anthropology And History of Afghanistan

The destabilization of Afghanistan over the last 25 years has resulted in four major overlapping transformations: 1. the center has collapsed causing the center-periphery relationship to evaporate, 2. the national market of Afghanistan has disappeared, 3, ethnic, sectarian, and regional cleavages have become more robust and assertive, 4. Islamist ideologies have become powerful transparent forces in the construction of self and political life of Afghans. All these changes have been triggered by the introduction of massive amounts of external material resources (largely by the United States and Saudi Arabia) and Wahabi and other Fundamentalist Islamist ideological orientations. In pre-1978 Afghanistan political power and surplus economic resources were extremely limited and severely circumscribed and there was virtually no institutional access available for groups to contend for them. Subsequently, as increasingly large amounts of resources were rapidly introduced and old structural barriers removed or eased, intense competition for real and potential power has emerged.

Academic literature (especially in anthropology) about socio-cultural diversity in general and ethnic groups encapsulated by nation-states in particular, are replete with accounts of the correlation between heightened ethnic, linguistic, and regional tension and conflict and the competitive introduction of new resources from outside. The political dynamics of Afghanistan during the past twenty-five years vividly illustrate and confirm this causal relationship. Policies and programs for the country’s rehabilitation and reconstruction should be informed by a disciplined understanding of the changing configuration of ethnic, sectarian, and regional contrasts in Afghan polity and the quality and quantity of external resources that have been (and are being) grafted on these variations. The introduction of massive amounts of material resources, Fundamentalist Islamist ideologies and the consequent emergence of new political awareness continue to produce increasing ethnic, sectarian, and regional consciousness and tensions in Afghanistan. Together these developments have become powerful components of innovative political claims and strategies in the volatile Afghan political field

Pre-1978 Afghanistan was a loosely woven state with a tenuous national market. Relationships between its center and periphery and amongst the various ethnic groups, religious sects, and regions were framed in vague and contested notions of national identity. Ethnic, linguistic, sectarian, and regional idioms of identity superseded conceptions of nation and nationality in Afghanistan. Due to general underdevelopment, weak and disinterested center, paucity of economic resources, absence of effective means of communication, and lack of participatory political institutions, the diverse elements of Afghan polity were spared robust interaction with the state, each other, and with the outside world. All this dramatically changed when during the 1980s when the Afghan center, in spite of its enhanced destructive ability, became increasingly unpopular, weak and fragmented by the opposition posed to it by the introduction in the periphery of massive amounts of ideological and destructive resources by outsiders.

The United States and its local oil rich ally, Saudi Arabia, with the facilitation of Pakistan, played a major role in the collapse of the fragile state configuration of Afghanistan. By pouring billions of dollars and massive quantities of weapons into the Afghan periphery through the recruitment, training, and arming of tens of thousands of the so called “freedom fighters” and inventing the ideology for their assembly line “jihad” (holy struggle or war), the United States radically altered the balance of center-periphery relations in the country. These changes converted the relatively peaceful traditional patterns of socio-cultural distinctions into competing and hostile ethno-linguistic, sectarian, and regional cleavages. The prominence of various warlords in the country today is a profound expression of these resource-induced transformations taking the country back to the late eighteenth century.

Afghanistan’s quiescent traditional patterns of ethnic and rudimentary social class distinctions had gradually become noticeable, especially in urban areas, after WWII with the introduction of limited (but significant by Afghan standards) amounts of foreign aid for economic development and military upgrading and modernization. But the introduction and competitive distribution of billions of dollars and massive amounts of means of destruction (overwhelming by Afghan and regional standards) during the decade of the 1980s aggravated ethno-linguistic, sectarian, and regional distinctions and triggered a slide in social class variations in the country. Not only were ethnic and regional distinctions in Afghanistan exacerbated, new political arrangements appeared as well. As an adaptation to the absence of the center, alternative social and political models for local governance in the periphery emerged and assumed increasing autonomy and self-sufficiency. The Afghan center did not only disappear, it became totally irrelevant. These new contrasts and tensions could easily be seen in the policies and behavior of the umbrella organizations of the “mujahidin”, the Afghan opposition factions operating out of Pakistan. Armed confrontation in the field among these groups were not unusual earlier but became widespread after 1989 when the Soviets withdrew and the U.S. substantially downscaled its mujahidin subsidy and supervision. These confrontations gave way to an all out war after the central government of Afghanistan collapsed in April 1992. The Taliban evolved out of the anarchy that followed in the wake of the disappearance of the Afghan center. The post-1978 chaotic social conditions throughout the country allowed millions of Afghan young men and adolescent boys to participate in various forms of opposition to the state as well as in free for all self-aggrandizing economic activities. They experienced first-hand the soft underbelly and fragility of the Afghan state, life without a state, and the viability of local rule and government as an adjustment to the disaster that struck the country and continues to shape life there.

Presently the United States does not have a clear and coherent policy for the rehabilitation and reconstruction of Afghanistan. The people of Afghanistan, with justifiable cynicism, view the U. S. presence in their country solely aimed at eradicating the Taleban and al-Qaeda and, when that is accomplished, they believe the United States will leave. Since 9-11 the United States has followed courses that are predicated on an empirically and historically unfounded premise, a premise that is shared by analysts of Afghanistan in the government, the media and academic specialists. These approaches assume that the collapse of the Afghan center and the destruction of its infrastructure could have been prevented had the United States decided to stay in the region and not to abandon its mujahidin clients after 1989, especially after 1992. However, the record shows that the dramatic changes in the structure of Afghanistan and Afghan Islam had begun long before the Soviets left the country in 1989 and immediately after the U. S. assumed sponsorship of the mujahidin in the early 1980s and started the course for Wahabi and other Muslim fanatics to enter the country. The withdrawal of the USSR and the corresponding decline of the underwriting of mujahidin by the United States and its allies are events that, ipso facto, have little to do with the collapse of Afghanistan, the emergence of Taleban, or the infestation of the country by al-Qaeda. The seeds for these transformations were sown during the early1980s when the United States government debilitated the Afghan center by introducing massive monetary and destructive resources into the periphery, created and manipulated the mujahidin in the framework of a vehement anti-Soviet (and anti-Afghan Government) fundamentalist Islamist ideology.

During the devastation of Afghanistan, Osma Bin Laden and his gangs of Wahabi zealots, with CIA support, lead the recruitment of thousands of Arabs and other Muslims from around the world for the “Afghan jihad”. The penetration of Afghanistan by large numbers of al-Qaeda started right after the departure of Soviet troops. Cognizant of this trend, the Afghan government of the time repeatedly warned of the infiltration of the country by the Wahabis and the presence of increasing numbers of other Arab Muslims in the ranks of the mujahidin. By this time the armed opposition against the government of Afghanistan had become a mostly Wahabi-led Arabized affair.

The ethnically conditioned tensions and antagonisms between the various faction of the mujahidin and armed confrontations in the field among them emerged when the United States and its local allies began pouring vast amounts of resources into the Afghan conflict in the early 1980s. By the time the USSR left Afghanistan in 1989 there were daily reports of pitched battles for control of territory and resources among these groups. These conflicts could not be disguised by the forced charade of the fractious Afghanistan Interim Government (AIG) in 1989 and the CIA-ISI orchestrated attack on Jellalabad in April of that year in which the Kabul government forces soundly defeated the thousands of well equipped and well paid but discordant “freedom fighters”. By the time the US embassy in Kabul was officially closed in winter 1989 the configuration of ethnic relations had dramatically changed and Fundamentalist Islamist fervor had replaced the traditional patterns of ethnic and religious tolerance in Afghanistan. The political passions that were initially (and theoretically) directed towards the Russians became rapidly diverted to hostilities towards other ethnic groups, regions, sects and, ironically, the West—especially the United States. And today, when millions of dollars are given to the Kabul government and, in a cruel contradiction of the theory about the integration and rebuilding of Afghanistan espoused by the Bush administration, to the various Afghan warlords, these passions are more vibrant and consequently each region remains largely independent of central control and each ethnicity and sect is more aware and articulate about its prospects for access to power. What the policy makers and analysts do not recognize is that the main cause of the disappearance of center-periphery relations and the disruption of the traditional balance of interethnic and interregional relations in Afghanistan is the introduction of massive new resources, not the withdrawal of the United States from the region and its abandonment of the freedom fighters. In fact, had the United States stayed on and continued funding the mujahidin after 1992, interethnic and sectarian conflicts would have assumed even sharper, more articulate contrasts, as they seem to have during the past eighteen months. And the Wahabis would have driven even wider and deeper roots in Afghan society.

Notable in the participation of the USSR in the destabilization of Afghanistan was its bolstering of the Afghan center’s destructive ability, in a way, the opposite of what the United States is responsible for. In comparative terms, the Soviets corrupted the Afghan center by moving it to the extreme left while the United States radicalized the periphery by moving it to the extreme right of traditional Afghan political discourse and relations of power. The clash between these two extremes caused the collapse of the Afghan state and the debris of this collapse frames the 1992-present political dynamics of the country. This radicalization not only polarized Afghanistan, it produced radical Muslim elements from Morocco to Indonesia. Without doubt the USSR and its successor, the Russian Republic, bear heavy responsibility for the destruction of and corresponding obligation for the rebuilding of Afghanistan. But given the circumstances, and in light of the widely circulated knowledge that Russia is currently promoting some of the Soviet era local extremists (of the left and right), that responsibility should be discharged through the United Nations. Similarly, the obligation of Saudi Arabia to the reconstruction of Afghanistan should be discharged through the United Nations. With this general framework in mind the following recommendation are made for an alternative United States approach towards Afghanistan.

The United States should unambiguously and emphatically embrace its moral and political responsibility for the destabilization of Afghanistan and the collapse of its state structure. It should assure (and convince) the people of Afghanistan and the world community that it is committed to the rehabilitation and reconstruction of the country and that this time around it will stay the course in Afghanistan and stand with its people until their country is repaired, totally back on its feet, and securely tracked on its way to a stable and self-sufficient democratic state. We should do all we can to brighten the dimmed hopes of the people of Afghanistan and reinforce their confidence in a peaceful, secure, and democratic tomorrow.


The U. S. must shoulder its obligation for a substantial material contribution to the country’s rehabilitation and reconstruction over the next 10-12 years. It should draw up a carefully studies long range “Marshall Plan”—in spirit if not in scope—for the country with realistic and specific objectives over the next 10-12 years not the three years unfocused speed race for a “quick fix” that is currently Underway And we must not forget that Afghanistan is not post-WWII Germany. The latter was privileged by a long-standing and firmly placed blue print for a strong modern state structure, a strong sense of nationalism, and foundations on which to build democratic institutions. Present day Afghanistan is a rubble underneath which there is only a faint and broken outline of the moorings of a fragile state format. The absence of a strong, coherent, uncontested nationalist ideology in Afghanistan has left in its wake a country that is desperately in need of a national ideology. Thus, in Afghanistan we have the daunting challenge of not only resuscitating a failed state but also the, virtually from scratch, task of forging a coherent sense of nationality to which all Afghans can comfortably subscribe. Obviously, the latter challenge is the more complex and difficult of the two. Consequently, the reconstruction of Afghanistan involves an interconnected two track project that should, when carefully merged, produce the beginnings of a viable nation-state. The project offers a unique historical opportunity for the United States and the international community to help a collapsed state in the recovery and reconstruction of which its people can retain the best features of their traditional social institutions and cultural values and to adopt the best elements that the modern world has to offer. A firm and sustained commitment to the rehabilitation and reconstruction of Afghanistan should be the explicit basis of U. S. presence in the country and must be independent of its military operations there. These operations should be phased out as the transitional period gradually evolves into a rehabilitated state and the establishment of a democratically elected central government. American involvement with the reconstruction of Afghanistan should be in the framework of an international consortium in which the United States should have the leading role.

Why the haste and impatience in the reconstruction of Afghanistan? If we hurry in its reconstruction, as is presently the case, we will have in Afghanistan, once again, a warlord run country, ripe for terrorist infestation, that will be dominated by groups that are currently politically organized and have roots in various shades of extremism: radical Islamist fundamentalists (Taleban, Hekmatyar, both supported by Pakistan and Saudi Arabia); former leftists in various guises (e. g. Dostum, and other Parcham elements in the Northern Alliance, supported mostly by Russia and Iran); and mainstream “jehadi” or mujahidin groupings led by Rabbani, Ismael Khan, Sayaf, Gailani, Mojaddidi, and followers of the deceased Ahmad Shah Mas’ud (supported by Iran, Saudi Arabia, and Russia in case of Rabbani and Mas’ud). If we hold elections now we will certainly end up with the status quo—Karzai in Kabul and the warlords with their militias in the provinces. And this is what the United States has apparently resigned itself to. U. S. General John Vines, Coalition Commander in Afghanistan, believes that the warlord militias are needed in Afghanistan “because there has been no security mechanism to protect the people of an area” (NBC Nightly News, September 9, 2003) Why confer legitimacy on arrangements that do not reflect the wishes of the people of Afghanistan? Our aim should be the gradual and certain dismantling of undemocratic structures throughout the country. If we allow these corrupt and oppressive arrangements to become legitimate through imposed superficial elections, we may never be able to remove them from the political landscape of Afghanistan.

Much that has been undertaken in Afghanistan during the past two years has been piecemeal and in haste and therefore inconsequential because the elite chosen by the United States to govern the country is in a hurry so that they can convert the transitional regime to a situation in which they and their supporters will become permanent political fixtures in the country. The traditional American addiction to a “quick fix” encourages this hurried and reckless pace. Lakhdar Brahimi, United Nations envoy to Afghanistan, who seems to be inspired by the World Bank’s notoriously wasteful and unrealistic theoretical approach to development, is orchestrating, under American supervision, a naïve and hasty march to the new constitution and elections for neither of which the country is in the least prepared. In Afghanistan we have a golden opportunity to cautiously, gradually, and patiently sow the foundations of an independent judiciary in a democratic Muslim state that is legitimated by consensus, not coercion. Anything less would be a great loss for the people of Afghanistan and the global community. If the current rush to a new constitution and elections is allowed to pass, the country will likely lapse into a radical Islamist government or disintegrate into autonomous principalities controlled by warlords. Impatience with Afghanistan and putting the cart of democracy before the social engine that can drive it will make the situation much worse than it already is. A sincere and diligent commitment to the rescue and reconstruction of Afghanistan requires that the people of Afghanistan should be helped to their feet first before a new constitution and elections are thrust upon them. Once the Afghan people are on their feet they can then write their constitution and hold free elections under the watch of leaders chosen by themselves not those appointed by and accountable to outsiders. These appointees should serve only during the transitional period.

State building within a democratic framework in Afghanistan cannot be accomplished in a hurry and in a few years. The foundational ingredients and institutional rudiments of a state require measured and gradual development and special human and material resources. The under thirty years old population of Afghanistan, the vast majority in the country, have never peacefully experienced a state structure within Afghanistan. Millions of Afghans have participated in the violent deconstruction of their state in recent years; they have learned to manipulate and intimidate the state and to view the state as an obstacle to their personal interests and something without which they have survive easily. The need for patience and gradualism is especially critical in Afghanistan where the state and periphery arrangement has totally disappeared, where 90% of the population is illiterate, where tribal and local loyalties among the vast majority of its people are the only loyalties, and where the idea of a firmly established nation state and democratic institutions is totally unfamiliar. Realism, patience, and gradualism should be the guiding lights of our approach to Afghanistan. We need a deliberate slow pace with gradual introduction of capital, technology, and social innovations. At the present time he country cannot absorb the massive amounts of money and technology the Kabul government is seeking. One sure way to slow down the current fast pace is to substantially scale down the transfer of external resources to the country, something that is, not surprisingly, vehemently opposed by Hamed Karzai and his Kabul government.

Moreover, democracy cannot be introduced with violence—rockets, bombs and tanks. It is pure fantasy for George W. Bush to claim that the United States is “spreading freedom and peace” as the rearguard of massive violent destruction and humiliation caused by U. S. armed forces. Humiliation breeds contempt, disrespect, and hatred. The people of Afghanistan cannot forget the painful memories of the humiliating violence inflicted on them during the past twenty five years by the Russian armed forces, by the armed forces of Afghanistan, the U. S. sponsored mujahidin, the Taleban and, in the aftermath of 9-11, the armed forces of the United States. The very idea of democracy is incompatible with violence and fear induced by coercion or the threat of coercion. Democracy requires informed consensus as the basis of political legitimacy. And democracy is not simply made up of a hastily drafted constitution, superficial elections, and three branches of government. A democratic polity requires foremost a set of sentiments and intellectual equipment about freedom, equality, trust, foregoing one’s personal and familial interests for a larger social good, social justice, civil rights and obligations, informed and voluntary participation in one’s political and economic affairs. These requirements can only be gradually learned in the framework of secure, stable and peaceful institutional arrangements (e.g. family, school, mosque, media) over a long haul, sometimes over several generations. In a country ravaged by violence as Afghanistan, this will take all the more time. In Afghanistan we have the monumental task of helping the Afghans to unlearn the use of violence in dealing with social and cultural differences and to repair (and hopefully undo) the impact of centuries full of violence. We should not rush into meeting these challenges. The current hasty and heavily coercive process of social reconstruction, especially the imposing of the “quick fix” constitution and elections, is doomed to failure. Dependence on coercion can be gradually degraded if the process is slowed down; otherwise, it will produce calamitous results that will include what state terror has usually produced in Afghanistan, short-term stability but long-term instability, collapse and fragmentation.

The people of Afghanistan have never participated in free and democratic elections. It is simply self-serving, cruel and unrealistic to impose the burden of a new constitution and “free” and “democratic” elections on a people who are the least prepared for it, and in a society that lacks minimal meaningful institutional arrangements for a meaningful participatory process. Moreover, Afghanistan is in a state of chaos, lawlessness, and anarchy; it must be secured, stabilized and politically and economically integrated before such things as a new constitution and elections are contemplated. Forcing on the people of Afghanistan a document that is written in haste by strangers and friends and supporters of Hamed Karzai—people who have been estranged from Afghanistan for decades—in an atmosphere of fear, insecurity, and uncertainty, will give way to more instability and division. The people of Afghanistan must be first provided with basic tools for the understanding and appreciation of constitutional government and a participatory political system. The tool most necessary for this understanding is education, literacy, and a responsible free press. Illiteracy and ignorance have made it possible for all forms of corrupt and self-serving regimes and religious fanatics to dominate the country. Today we are in an advantaged position not to allow this to happen again. Afghans should experience democracy gradually and in meaningful, smaller, closer to home, doses. During the transitional period no national or provincial elections should be held. Only local elections dealing with specific non-polarizing issues, not offices and individuals, should be frequently held. Elections for individual office holders will only strengthen the Karzai and his friends and warlords and their supporters at this time. The first national election in Afghanistan should be held at the end of the transitional period (when the national police force replaces the warlords and their militias) with a symbolic, impersonal issue such as alternatives for the form and colors of the prospective national flag, on the ballot. Thereafter, with increased literacy and universal compulsory education firmly in place, Afghans should be able to meaningfully tackle the complex issue of a new constitution and elections for national and provincial offices. No national elections for political office should be held until the various warlords and their militias have been eliminated and replaced by the national police force.

The current hasty and disingenuous plans for the new constitution and the machinery for drafting it along with arrangements for the spurious “loya jirga” (see below) and national elections should be suspended. The Kabul government’s desire for a new constitution and speedy elections is based solely on its desperate desire for a device with which to deceive the people of Afghanistan and to perpetuate itself. In so doing, the Karzai government is blatantly exploiting the fears and innocence of the people of Afghanistan. The right of Afghans to create, under informed, peaceful and secure conditions, a framework by themselves in which to hammer out a document that will serve as the foundation of a constitutional government in Afghanistan should not be preempted and trampled by the contortions of a “new” constitution. This “new” constitution is in fact the 1964 constitution with minor modifications. The publicly disclosed drafts of this document closely resemble the 1964 constitution. Karzai’s constitutional commission has simply replaced “king” with “president”, “kingdom” with “republic” in the new document. Such packaging of old wine in new bottles by remnants of those who created the nightmare of the past 25 years and by the children of the old Afghan elite—essentially those who participated in the arrangements that caused the demise of the Afghan state—should not be allowed to pass. However, for practical purposes and with minor modifications, the 1964 constitution is adequate—not as a “new” constitution but a provisional charter—for the transitional period in which the focus should be on security, stabilization, integration, and seeding for democratic institutions.

The present government in Kabul is composed mostly of individuals with dubious ties to the present population of Afghanistan. Many of them have been away from the country for decades and are connected to the pre-1978 corrupt regimes and the small middle class that emigrated years ago to Europe and the United States. Others, in key posts, are remnants of the disastrous “jihad” and elements tied to former leftist groups. They have gathered around Hamed Karzai (called by some as “mayor of Kabul”), an appointee of Washington, whose rule does not extend beyond the building in which he lives and who was an ally of the Taleban until the United States invaded Afghanistan. Karzai and his government has accomplished nothing since they were installed in Kabul by the United States. Karzai and some members of his cabinet are protected by bodyguards composed of United States armed forces. Their security details do not include Afghan personnel. Those who decided to install American security guards for Mr. Karzai must be indeed naïve, indifferent, incompetent or desperate for someone to govern Afghanistan for them. The decision suggests only one thing: Karzai is an undisputed puppet of an occupying power and undeserving of the trust of the people he pretends to govern. He is the only head of government in the world who cannot trust his personal security to his own people. There is no head of government in the world, other than the U. S. president, whose security detail is composed strictly of American security forces. By any standard, this disingenuous practice is unacceptable. It is an insult to the people of Afghanistan. One assumes that sooner or later the American forces will leave Afghanistan; what will happen when or if Karzai’s American bodyguards are removed?! Those who have created this embarrassing arrangement must think very little of the people of Afghanistan and of Mr. Karzai beyond his utility as a front man to do the bidding of the U. S. government in Kabul. Common sense and a sincere commitment to a democratic Afghanistan require that, if for no other reason, for incompetence and for the reason that he cannot trust his own people, Karzai should be immediately removed and, for his own safety, taken out of Afghanistan. Due, in part, to American uncertainty and distrust of local Afghans Hamed Karzai has become indispensable to United States policy in Afghanistan. Echoing this policy, Robert Oakly, an experienced American diplomat, has recently stated that if Karzai dies “it (Afghanistan) could all crash and burn” and “if he (Karzai) goes under we are going to have big problems” (NBC Nighly News, September 7, 2003). The United Nation’s Lakhdar Brahimi who implements United States policy in Kabul believes that “there is not much of an alternative to him (Karzai)” (NBC Nightly News, September 9, 2003). Why limit our options and succumb to such a dangerous addiction, an addiction that we have to give up sooner or later? What if Karzai falls ill or dies of natural causes? Would Afghanistan then be relegated to political oblivion?! No single person is or should be viewed as indispensable in Afghanistan. Unfortunately, the American policy makers have selfishly installed Karzai and his mostly Western trained cabinet members simply because they feel comfortable with them without regard to the comfort of Afghans and the needs of social and political reconstruction in Afghanistan. Having listened to a few of these cabinet ministers with titles of “doctor” and “professor” on tour in the United States, it is clear that they have no clear and coherent idea of what Afghanistan was, what has happened to it in the last fifty years, and where it is headed. Nor are they able to objectively and coherently conceptualize the country’s current massive political and social devastation. Fluency in a European languages and having academic degrees from Western institutions does not guarantee understanding the scope and implications of a collapsed state in Afghanistan and the daunting challenge of its rescue and reconstruction.

The people of Afghanistan do not identify with estranged and alienated individuals like Karzai, his cabinet and their cronies in the Kabul government and collectively consider them instruments of an occupying power. Instead of supporting corrupt and disconnected expatriates, the United States government should seek competent and respected moderate elements from within the country for the transitional government of Afghanistan. The country has ample human resources for leadership and service. Due to selfishness, indifference, and perhaps incompetence, the United States and the United nations has not looked hard enough to find these resources.

The theorist behind the American government’s approach during the Reagan and George W. Bush administrations to Afghanistan is Zalmay Khalilzad (a.k.a. Hannah Negaran). He and Hamed Karzai, his long time friend, have put together the present transitional government in Kabul. An Afghan-American of obscure background, Khalilzad contributed to the choice of Karzai as head of the Kabul government. He claims to be a Pashtun and the son of an Afghan government official during the monarchy. But this writer is unaware of any one who knows for certain Khalilzad’s tribal, ethnic, and regional affiliations in Afghanistan. He does not speak a word of Pashtu, one of the two major languages of Afghanistan. Khalilzad has become famous as an “expert” on Afghanistan but his academic training has nothing to do with that country. He has not written a single scholarly word on the country. His writings, full of distortions and misrepresentations, are of journalistic and popular bent and are uninformed by historical and ethnographic accounts of culture, society and politics in the country. His understanding of Afghanistan is garbled and confused. A close associate of Richard Perle, Daniel Pipes, and Paul Wolfowitz—all avowed pro-Israeli Zionists—Kahlilzad is rumored to have arranged for the intelligence services of Afghanistan to be developed and organized by Israel. If this is true, Afghanistan is sure to become a pariah among Muslim countries, a status that will guarantee its demise. Khalizad’s Zionist connections and leanings are well known in Afghanistan and do nothing but compromise American credibility there and in the surrounding region. He is admired in the Bush administration for his fondness of the military option as the first option. Khalilzad works for Condoleezza Rice as personal representative of President George W. Bush to Afghanistan and has been mentioned as the next United States ambassador to that country.

During Ronald Reagan’s presidency Khalilzad was involved in the construction and management of the United States government’s coziness with the “freedom fighters”, the creation of the Afghanistan Interim Government (AIG) in 1989, and he was actively behind the mujahidin takeover of Kabul in 1992 that caused the collapse of the Afghan center. For years he negotiated with the Taleban on behalf of UNICOL Corporation. Some have suggested that Hamed Karzai was also involved in these negotiations. During his employment with the United States government, Khalilzad has left in his wake a trail of destruction in Afghanistan. He personalizes the devastation of that country and what he has done there since 9-11 does not change the correctness of this symbolic effect.

The disarray, confusion, and selfishness in the Kabul government are vividly visible in the clothing Hamed Karzai wears in public. Perhaps borrowing from the example of Shah Shuja’a whom the British installed in Kabul during 1839-42 (see his portrayals in 19th century colonial sketches), Mr. Karzai has opted for a wardrobe that is an incoherent mechanical patchwork of styles and colors in the region. Like the Iranian religious leaders he eschews the Western collared shirt and tie. His headgears, cape over Western jacket and bloomers give the appearance of an assemblage that is uneasily stitched together, much like the social and cultural pieces that are tensely encapsulated within the borders of Afghanistan. It cannot be comforting for Afghans to see in the clothing of their ruler arrangements that echo the unease with which cultural diversity is framed in Afghan society. However colorful and attractive to Madison Avenue, Karzai’s garb, even though regularly ridiculed by Afghans inside and outside Afghanistan, seem to be designed to make Karzai appear unique and indispensable and to promote a personality cult. No one is or should be indispensable in Afghanistan. Those American handlers of Mr. Karzai who view him as indispensable are misinformed and do not understand Afghan society. Karzai may be indispensable to United States material objectives in Afghanistan but he is not indispensable to Afghanistan. If one looked hard enough and if one had a sincere and informed interest in the democratic reconstruction of the country, Afghanistan has no shortage of individuals (inside the country) who can work for and lead their country during the transition period and beyond.

Hamed Karzai and his transitional government should be replaced. They have done virtually nothing for Afghanistan. A new government composed of those who have experienced life first-hand and continuously in Afghanistan during the past two decades, and who are genuinely dedicated to the rehabilitation and reconstruction of Afghanistan, and not interested in accumulating wealth and creating personality cults and political dynasties, should be installed in Kabul. Karzai and his cabinet members have staffed ministries with their relatives, friends and personal loyalists. It has been suggested that 95% of the staff of Afghan embassies abroad are relatives of high-ranking officials of the Kabul government and various warlords. Corruption is said to be endemic in the Kabul government. For dealing with these and other important challenges facing Afghanistan, an alternative model for its transitional government is sketched below.

A UN-facilitated National Assembly of Afghanistan (Dari—Shura-ye Mili-ye Afghanistan, Pashtu—de Afghanistan Mili Shura), not the “Loya Jirga”, with five to ten representatives (depending on UN population guesstimates) from each 32 Afghan province, will set in motion the machinery of the transitional government (see 5a below). The Jerga is an informal Pashtun tribal institution for the resolution of specific local conflict. It seldom has more than twenty adult male members. Decisions are based on total consensus. Dissent is not allowed. During the past century various central governments of Afghanistan, including the current government of Kabul, have invented a corrupt distortion of this tribal Pashtun institution of local importance as a Loya Jirga (Pashtu, grand assembly or grand council) to rubber stamp their decisions dealing with major internal and international issues and problems. Member of the Loya Jirga were elected through corrupt procedures and, in spite of this, its decisions were frequently vetoed by the government. The Loya Jirga was designed in order to co-opt and pacify the Pashtun tribes and to intimidate the non-Pashtun population of Afghanistan with the alleged numerical majority and historical prestige of the Pashtuns, a divide and rule tactic of playing Pashtuns against non-Pashtuns. In reality these governments were neither tribal nor Pashtun and it was a mere speculation that the Pashtuns constituted a numerical majority in Afghanistan. The fabrication and manipulation of Loya Jirga by Afghan governments has served as a major divisive element in the political life of modern Afghanistan and is especially (and understandably) resented by non-Pashtun Afghans. Ironically, the Loya Jirga has produced little tangible political and economic advantage for the Pashtun tribes of Afghanistan. Although members of the Loya Jirga held in Kabul during June 2002 were handpicked by the Karzai government, its decision to select the former king as Afghanistan’s leader was, vetoed by the combined agency of the United States and the puppet government of Kabul. We should not legitimize and lay the foundations of democracy in Afghanistan with a divisive political instrument that, in its current essential and traditional format, does not permit dissent and is restricted to men only. To do so will be a great disservice to the people of Afghanistan and will, once again, make state and society in Afghanistan subordinate and vulnerable to the imagined domination and threat of Pashtun tribes.

The National Assembly of Afghanistan will consist of people who have lived continuously in Afghanistan for at least the past 15 years and who have not served as high ranking officers or members of upper councils (cabinets and other policy making bodies) of the previous governments of Afghanistan. Members of the assembly should be literate and at least 35 years old. This assembly will set up its own rules and select its own presiding and executive officers. The assembly will select members of the Supreme Council for the Unity and Reconstruction of Afghanistan (Farsi, Majles-e A’la-ye Etehad wa Nowsazi-ye Afghanistan; Pashtu, De Afghanistan de Etehad aw Nawi Jorawulo A’la Majles) and Supervisory Boards (see below) from a list of Afghans who are not members of the assembly. This list will be prepared by a joint committee of the United Nations and the National Assembly of Afghanistan.

The Supreme Council for the Unity and Reconstruction of Afghanistan (SCURA) will preside over the Transitional Government of Afghanistan. The council will be the policy-making and executive organ of the state and will be composed of nine highly respected and qualified individuals chosen for a term of seven years. Additional criteria for membership should include professional expertise, administrative experience, and ethnic background. SCURA will elect its own chairperson who will act as the Prime Minister (chief executive officer) for a term of one year renewable once at the discretion of SCURA. Women will be eligible to serve on the council. A ranked list of 20 alternate members should be produced by the National Assembly in case a SCURA member has to be replaced for reasons of health, death, removal, or resignation. The position of Prime Minister will rotate among members of SCURA and no member should serve for more than two one year terms. The prime minister will be accountable to SCURA which will review and approve his/her major decisions, including those involving appointments to the cabinet and provincial heads of government. Five non-voting international experts (preferably fluent in one of Afghanistan’s major languages) selected by the United Nations should serve as advisors to SCURA with full rights of participation in its deliberations.

The Supreme Council for the Unity and Reconstruction of Afghanistan will establish 5-6 supervisory boards, each with five members. Members to these boards will be appointed by SCURA. Each board will regularly review and audit the fiscal and personnel affairs of 3-4 cabinet ministries. For example, there will be a supervisory board for the ministries of internal security (national police), justice, and ministry of interior (for the supervision of provincial governments); another board will supervise the ministries of education, higher education, and public health, etc. Two international experts selected by the United Nations should serve as advisors to each board with full rights of participation in deliberations except voting. Decisions of these boards will be subject to review by SCURA.

Governors, military commanders, and high ranking officers of provinces will be appointed by the prime minister with the approval of SCURA. Provincial governments will be overseen by the Ministry of Interior which will provide funds for their budgets and monitor their security and fiscal affairs. No local government in Afghanistan should receive or accept direct assistance from a foreign state or international agency.

For the interim period Afghanistan does not need a standing army. Traditionally the armed forces of Afghanistan have been used by the unrepresentative, corrupt, and despotic governments to intimidate and terrorize the people of Afghanistan. The current Afghan military forces are heavily involved in drug trafficking. The reason the Kabul government is pleading for a large and expensive army is that it plans on remaining in power irrespective of the wishes of the people of Afghanistan and to continue what previous governments have done with the armed forces of that country. No persuasive case has been or can be made for a standing army in Afghanistan at the present time. During the interim period all existing militia and armed forces under control of the central government and various warlords should be dismantled and replaced by international security forces. Instead, Afghanistan, with the help of the United States and other international donors, should develop a large (50-60 thousand), well-trained (and well paid) national police force. The national police force should be controlled by the Ministry of Internal Security. There will be no portfolio for the ministry of defense during the transitional period. The territorial defense of Afghanistan during the transitional period will be the responsibility of the United States or an international consortium. Until the Afghan police force is fully developed the internal security of the country should be the responsibility of an international coalition. This responsibility should involve all of Afghanistan not only the city of Kabul. At the end of the transitional period when the national police force should be large enough to replace all international security forces and after its first democratically elected government is in place, Afghanistan may develop its own military forces—army, air force, etc.

Transferring large amounts of capital to Afghanistan during the transitional period is counterproductive. In the absence of a coherent plan for reconstruction and since there is no system of checks and balances, much of it will be wasted or otherwise stolen. Until the foundations of institutions for free and compulsory universal education, health, food, resettlement of refugees, security and communication have been firmly established and until the country is sufficiently, disarmed, secure, and integrated in such a way as to have reclaimed at least its pre-1978 level of security and national market, the transfer to Afghanistan of large amounts of capital and extensive modern technology are to be postponed. During the interim government a concerted international effort should be made to disarm the country, reduce the power of the warlords, and to eradicate the production of poppy in Afghanistan. As in Turkey Afghan farmers should be helped in growing alternative cash producing crops.

The cities of Afghanistan should not be rebuilt until modern underground water, sewage, and other utility systems are laid out. It makes no sense to build high-rise hotels and office buildings in Kabul (as is the case today) without these systems. Kabul streets have been accurately referred to as “one big toilet”. All such construction and the building of new private homes without these facilities and enforceable standards for safety, sanitation, and public health must be halted. The gradual development of basic institutions and urban infrastructure should take about twelve years or one school cycle. At the end of the transitional stage Afghanistan should be able to stand on its own feet with its people ready to freely and securely participate in hammering out choices of their own for the development of democratic political and economic institutions in their country.

 contact the webshaykh: Daniel.M.Varisco@hofstra.edu