Truth, lies and Afghanistan

How military leaders have let us down

By LT. COL. DANIEL L. DAVIS

I spent last year in Afghanistan, visiting and talking with U.S. troops and
their Afghan partners. My duties with the Army’s Rapid Equipping Force took
me into every significant area where our soldiers engage the enemy. Over the
course of 12 months, I covered more than 9,000 miles and talked, traveled
and patrolled with troops in Kandahar, Kunar, Ghazni, Khost, Paktika,
Kunduz, Balkh, Nangarhar and other provinces. 

What I saw bore no resemblance to rosy official statements by U.S. military
leaders about conditions on the ground. 

Entering this deployment, I was sincerely hoping to learn that the claims
were true: that conditions in Afghanistan were improving, that the local
government and military were progressing toward self-sufficiency. I did not
need to witness dramatic improvements to be reassured, but merely hoped to
see evidence of positive trends, to see companies or battalions produce even
minimal but sustainable progress. 

Instead, I witnessed the absence of success on virtually every level. 

My arrival in country in late 2010 marked the start of my fourth combat
deployment, and my second in Afghanistan. A Regular Army officer in the
Armor Branch, I served in Operation Desert Storm, in Afghanistan in 2005-06
and in Iraq in 2008-09. In the middle of my career, I spent eight years in
the U.S. Army Reserve and held a number of civilian jobs — among them,
legislative correspondent for defense and foreign affairs for Sen. Kay
Bailey Hutchison, R-Texas. 

As a representative for the Rapid Equipping Force, I set out to talk to our
troops about their needs and their circumstances. Along the way, I conducted
mounted and dismounted combat patrols, spending time with conventional and
Special Forces troops. I interviewed or had conversations with more than 250
soldiers in the field, from the lowest-ranking 19-year-old private to
division commanders and staff members at every echelon. I spoke at length
with Afghan security officials, Afghan civilians and a few village elders. 

I saw the incredible difficulties any military force would have to pacify
even a single area of any of those provinces; I heard many stories of how
insurgents controlled virtually every piece of land beyond eyeshot of a U.S.
or International Security Assistance Force (ISAF) base. 

I saw little to no evidence the local governments were able to provide for
the basic needs of the people. Some of the Afghan civilians I talked with
said the people didn’t want to be connected to a predatory or incapable
local government. 

>From time to time, I observed Afghan Security forces collude with the
insurgency. 

>From Bad to Abysmal 

Much of what I saw during my deployment, let alone read or wrote in official
reports, I can’t talk about; the information remains classified. But I can
say that such reports — mine and others’ — serve to illuminate the gulf
between conditions on the ground and official statements of progress. 

And I can relate a few representative experiences, of the kind that I
observed all over the country. 

In January 2011, I made my first trip into the mountains of Kunar province
near the Pakistan border to visit the troops of 1st Squadron, 32nd Cavalry.
On a patrol to the northernmost U.S. position in eastern Afghanistan, we
arrived at an Afghan National Police (ANP) station that had reported being
attacked by the Taliban 2½ hours earlier. 

Through the interpreter, I asked the police captain where the attack had
originated, and he pointed to the side of a nearby mountain. 

“What are your normal procedures in situations like these?” I asked. “Do you
form up a squad and go after them? Do you periodically send out harassing
patrols? What do you do?” 

As the interpreter conveyed my questions, the captain’s head wheeled around,
looking first at the interpreter and turning to me with an incredulous
expression. Then he laughed. 

“No! We don’t go after them,” he said. “That would be dangerous!” 

According to the cavalry troopers, the Afghan policemen rarely leave the
cover of the checkpoints. In that part of the province, the Taliban
literally run free. 

In June, I was in the Zharay district of Kandahar province, returning to a
base from a dismounted patrol. Gunshots were audible as the Taliban attacked
a U.S. checkpoint about one mile away. 

As I entered the unit’s command post, the commander and his staff were
watching a live video feed of the battle. Two ANP vehicles were blocking the
main road leading to the site of the attack. The fire was coming from behind
a haystack. We watched as two Afghan men emerged, mounted a motorcycle and
began moving toward the Afghan policemen in their vehicles. 

The U.S. commander turned around and told the Afghan radio operator to make
sure the policemen halted the men. The radio operator shouted into the radio
repeatedly, but got no answer. 

On the screen, we watched as the two men slowly motored past the ANP
vehicles. The policemen neither got out to stop the two men nor answered the
radio — until the motorcycle was out of sight. 

To a man, the U.S. officers in that unit told me they had nothing but
contempt for the Afghan troops in their area — and that was before the above
incident occurred. 

In August, I went on a dismounted patrol with troops in the Panjwai district
of Kandahar province. Several troops from the unit had recently been killed
in action, one of whom was a very popular and experienced soldier. One of
the unit’s senior officers rhetorically asked me, “How do I look these men
in the eye and ask them to go out day after day on these missions? What’s
harder: How do I look [my soldier’s] wife in the eye when I get back and
tell her that her husband died for something meaningful? How do I do that?” 

One of the senior enlisted leaders added, “Guys are saying, ‘I hope I live
so I can at least get home to R&R leave before I get it,’ or ‘I hope I only
lose a foot.’ Sometimes they even say which limb it might be: ‘Maybe it’ll
only be my left foot.’ They don’t have a lot of confidence that the
leadership two levels up really understands what they’re living here, what
the situation really is.” 

On Sept. 11, the 10th anniversary of the infamous attack on the U.S., I
visited another unit in Kunar province, this one near the town of Asmar. I
talked with the local official who served as the cultural adviser to the
U.S. commander. Here’s how the conversation went: 

Davis: “Here you have many units of the Afghan National Security Forces
[ANSF]. Will they be able to hold out against the Taliban when U.S. troops
leave this area?” 

Adviser: “No. They are definitely not capable. Already all across this
region [many elements of] the security forces have made deals with the
Taliban. [The ANSF] won’t shoot at the Taliban, and the Taliban won’t shoot
them. 

“Also, when a Taliban member is arrested, he is soon released with no action
taken against him. So when the Taliban returns [when the Americans leave
after 2014], so too go the jobs, especially for everyone like me who has
worked with the coalition. 

“Recently, I got a cellphone call from a Talib who had captured a friend of
mine. While I could hear, he began to beat him, telling me I’d better quit
working for the Americans. I could hear my friend crying out in pain. [The
Talib] said the next time they would kidnap my sons and do the same to them.
Because of the direct threats, I’ve had to take my children out of school
just to keep them safe. 

“And last night, right on that mountain there [he pointed to a ridge
overlooking the U.S. base, about 700 meters distant], a member of the ANP
was murdered. The Taliban came and called him out, kidnapped him in front of
his parents, and took him away and murdered him. He was a member of the ANP
from another province and had come back to visit his parents. He was only 27
years old. The people are not safe anywhere.” 

That murder took place within view of the U.S. base, a post nominally
responsible for the security of an area of hundreds of square kilometers.
Imagine how insecure the population is beyond visual range. And yet that
conversation was representative of what I saw in many regions of
Afghanistan. 

In all of the places I visited, the tactical situation was bad to abysmal.
If the events I have described — and many, many more I could mention — had
been in the first year of war, or even the third or fourth, one might be
willing to believe that Afghanistan was just a hard fight, and we should
stick it out. Yet these incidents all happened in the 10th year of war. 

As the numbers depicting casualties and enemy violence indicate the absence
of progress, so too did my observations of the tactical situation all over
Afghanistan. 

Credibility Gap 

I’m hardly the only one who has noted the discrepancy between official
statements and the truth on the ground. 

A January 2011 report by the Afghan NGO Security Office noted that public
statements made by U.S. and ISAF leaders at the end of 2010 were “sharply
divergent from IMF, [international military forces, NGO-speak for ISAF]
‘strategic communication’ messages suggesting improvements. We encourage
[nongovernment organization personnel] to recognize that no matter how
authoritative the source of any such claim, messages of the nature are
solely intended to influence American and European public opinion ahead of
the withdrawal, and are not intended to offer an accurate portrayal of the
situation for those who live and work here.” 

The following month, Anthony Cordesman, on behalf of the Center for
Strategic and International Studies, wrote that ISAF and the U.S. leadership
failed to report accurately on the reality of the situation in Afghanistan. 

“Since June 2010, the unclassified reporting the U.S. does provide has
steadily shrunk in content, effectively ‘spinning’ the road to victory by
eliminating content that illustrates the full scale of the challenges
ahead,” Cordesman wrote. “They also, however, were driven by political
decisions to ignore or understate Taliban and insurgent gains from 2002 to
2009, to ignore the problems caused by weak and corrupt Afghan governance,
to understate the risks posed by sanctuaries in Pakistan, and to ‘spin’ the
value of tactical ISAF victories while ignoring the steady growth of Taliban
influence and control.” 

How many more men must die in support of a mission that is not succeeding
and behind an array of more than seven years of optimistic statements by
U.S. senior leaders in Afghanistan? No one expects our leaders to always
have a successful plan. But we do expect — and the men who do the living,
fighting and dying deserve — to have our leaders tell us the truth about
what’s going on. 

I first encountered senior-level equivocation during a 1997 division-level
“experiment” that turned out to be far more setpiece than experiment. Over
dinner at Fort Hood, Texas, Training and Doctrine Command leaders told me
that the Advanced Warfighter Experiment (AWE) had shown that a “digital
division” with fewer troops and more gear could be far more effective than
current divisions. The next day, our congressional staff delegation observed
the demonstration firsthand, and it didn’t take long to realize there was
little substance to the claims. Virtually no legitimate experimentation was
actually conducted. All parameters were carefully scripted. All events had a
preordained sequence and outcome. The AWE was simply an expensive show,
couched in the language of scientific experimentation and presented in
glowing press releases and public statements, intended to persuade Congress
to fund the Army’s preference. Citing the AWE’s “results,” Army leaders
proceeded to eliminate one maneuver company per combat battalion. But the
loss of fighting systems was never offset by a commensurate rise in killing
capability. 

A decade later, in the summer of 2007, I was assigned to the Future Combat
Systems (FCS) organization at Fort Bliss, Texas. It didn’t take long to
discover that the same thing the Army had done with a single division at
Fort Hood in 1997 was now being done on a significantly larger scale with
FCS. Year after year, the congressionally mandated reports from the
Government Accountability Office revealed significant problems and warned
that the system was in danger of failing. Each year, the Army’s senior
leaders told members of Congress at hearings that GAO didn’t really
understand the full picture and that to the contrary, the program was on
schedule, on budget, and headed for success. Ultimately, of course, the
program was canceled, with little but spinoffs to show for $18 billion
spent. 

If Americans were able to compare the public statements many of our leaders
have made with classified data, this credibility gulf would be immediately
observable. Naturally, I am not authorized to divulge classified material to
the public. But I am legally able to share it with members of Congress. I
have accordingly provided a much fuller accounting in a classified report to
several members of Congress, both Democrats and Republicans, senators and
House members. 

A nonclassified version is available at www.afghanreport.com. [Editor’s
note: At press time, Army public affairs had not yet ruled on whether Davis
could post this longer version.] 

Tell The Truth 

When it comes to deciding what matters are worth plunging our nation into
war and which are not, our senior leaders owe it to the nation and to the
uniformed members to be candid — graphically, if necessary — in telling them
what’s at stake and how expensive potential success is likely to be. U.S.
citizens and their elected representatives can decide if the risk to blood
and treasure is worth it. 

Likewise when having to decide whether to continue a war, alter its aims or
to close off a campaign that cannot be won at an acceptable price, our
senior leaders have an obligation to tell Congress and American people the
unvarnished truth and let the people decide what course of action to choose.
That is the very essence of civilian control of the military. The American
people deserve better than what they’ve gotten from their senior uniformed
leaders over the last number of years. Simply telling the truth would be a
good start. 

Continue the conversation: Use #DavisAFJ when discussing this story on
Twitter. Follow us at @afjournal <http://twitter.com/afjournal> . 

More from AFJ: 

* A failure in generalship
<http://www.armedforcesjournal.com/2007/05/2635198> (May 2007) 

 

 

           Thé Mulindwas Communication Group
"With Yoweri Museveni and Dr. Kiiza Besigye Uganda is in anarchy"
           Kuungana Mulindwa Mawasiliano Kikundi
"Pamoja na Yoweri Museveni na Dk. Kiiza Besigye Uganda ni katika machafuko"

 

_______________________________________________
Ugandanet mailing list
[email protected]
http://kym.net/mailman/listinfo/ugandanet

UGANDANET is generously hosted by INFOCOM http://www.infocom.co.ug/

All Archives can be found at http://www.mail-archive.com/[email protected]/

The above comments and data are owned by whoever posted them (including 
attachments if any). The List's Host is not responsible for them in any way.
---------------------------------------

Reply via email to