The
only way to combat terrorism is to end these wars for vengeance and
profit.
On
the morning of
Sept. 11, 2001, I was among a small group of U.S. citizens who sat on
milk crates or stood holding signs across from the U.S. Mission to
the United Nations in Manhattan. We had been fasting from solid foods
for a month, calling for an end to brutal economic warfare waged
against Iraq through the imposition of U.N. sanctions. Each Friday of
our fast, we approached the entrance to the U.S. Mission to the
United Nations carrying lentils and rice, asking the U.S. officials
to break our fast with us, asking them to hear our reports, gathered
after visiting destitute Iraqi hospitals and homes. On four
successive Friday afternoons, New York police handcuffed us and took
us to jail.
Two
days after the passenger planes attacked the World Trade Center, U.S.
Mission to the U.N. officials called us and asked that we visit with
them.
I
had naively hoped this overture could signify empathy on the part of
U.S. officials. Perhaps the 9/11 attack would engender sorrow over
the suffering and pain endured by people of Iraq and other lands when
the U.S. attacks them. The officials at the U.S. Mission to the
United Nations wanted to know why we went to Iraq but we sensed they
were mainly interested in filling out forms to comply with an order
to gather more information about U.S. people going to Iraq.
The
U.S. government and military exploited the grief and shock following
the 9/11 attacks to raise fears, promote Islamophobia and launch
forever wars which continue to this day. Under the guise of
“counter-terrorism,” the United States now pledges to
combine drone attacks, surveillance, airstrikes and covert operations
to continue waging war in Afghanistan. Terror among Afghans persists.
I
last visited Kabul, Afghanistan in September 2019. While there, a
young friend I’ve known for five years greeted me and then
spoke in a hushed voice. “Kathy,” he asked, “do you
know about Qazi Qadir, Bahadir, Jehanzeb and Saboor?” I nodded.
I had read a news
account
shortly before I arrived about Afghan Special Operations commandos,
trained by the CIA, having waged a night raid in the city of
Jalalabad at the home of four brothers. They awakened the young men,
then shot and killed them. Neighbors said the young men had gathered
to welcome their father back from the Hajj in Mecca; numerous
colleagues insisted the young men were innocent.
My
young friend has been deeply troubled by many other incidents in
which the United States directly attacked innocent people or trained
Afghan units to do so. Two decades of U.S. combat in Afghanistan have
made civilians vulnerable to drone attacks, night raids, airstrikes
and arrests. Over 4 million people have become internally displaced
as they fled from battles or could no longer survive on scarred,
drought stricken lands.
In
an earlier visit to Kabul, at the height of the U.S. troop surge,
another young friend earnestly asked me to tell parents in the United
States not to send their sons and daughters to Afghanistan. “Here
it is very dangerous for them,” he said. “And they do not
really help us.”
For
many years, the United States claimed its mission in Afghanistan
improved the lives of Afghan women and children. But essentially, the
U.S. war improved the livelihoods of those who designed,
manufactured, sold and used weaponry to kill Afghans.
When
the United States was winding down its troop surge in 2014 —
but not its occupation — military officials undertook what they
called
“the largest retrograde
mission in U.S. military history,” incurring enormous expenses.
One estimate suggested the war in Afghanistan, that year, was costing
$2 million per U.S. soldier. That same year, UNICEF officials
calculated that the cost of adding iodized salt into the diet of an
Afghan infant — helping to prevent chronic brain damage in
children suffering from acute malnourishment — would be 5 cents
per child per year.
Which
endeavor would the majority of U.S. people have opted to support, in
their personal budgets, had they ever been given a choice? Profligate
U.S. military spending in Afghanistan or vital assistance for a
starving Afghan child?
One
of my young Afghan friends says he is now an anarchist. He doesn’t
place much trust in governments and militaries. He feels strong
allegiance toward the grassroots network he has helped build, a group
I would normally name and celebrate, but must now refer to as “our
young friends in Afghanistan,” in hopes of protecting them from
hostile groups.
The
brave and passionate dedication they showed as they worked tirelessly
to share resources, care for the environment, and practice
nonviolence has made them quite vulnerable to potential accusers who
may believe they were too connected with westerners.
In
recent weeks, I’ve been part of an ad hoc team assisting 60
young people and their family members who feel alarmed about
remaining in Kabul and are sorting out their options to flee the
country.
It’s
difficult to forecast how Taliban rule will affect them.
Already,
some extraordinarily brave people have held protests in the provinces
of Herat, Nimroz, Balkh and Farah, and in the city of Kabul, where
dozens of women took to the streets to demand
representation in the new government and to insist that their rights
must be protected.
In
many provinces in Afghanistan, the Taliban may find themselves ruling
over increasingly resentful people. Half the population already lives
in poverty and economic catastrophe looms. In damage caused by war,
people have lost harvests, homes and livestock. A third wave of COVID
afflicts the country and 3 million Afghans face consequences of
severe
drought.
Will the Taliban government have the resources and skills to cope
with these overwhelming problems?
On
the other hand, in some provinces, Taliban rule has seemed preferable
to the previous government’s incompetence and corruption,
particularly in regard to property or land disputes.
We
should be honest. The Taliban are in power today because of a
colossal mess the United States helped create.
Now,
we U.S. citizens must insist on paying reparations for destruction
caused by 20 years of war. To be meaningful, reparations must also
include dismantling the warfare systems that caused so much havoc and
misery. Our wars of choice were waged against people who meant us no
harm. We must choose, now, to lay aside the cruel futility of our
forever wars.
My
young friend who whispered to me about human rights abuses in 2019
recently fled Afghanistan. He said he doesn’t want to be driven
by fear, but he deeply wants to use his life to do good, to build a
better world.
Ultimately,
Afghanistan will need people like him and his friends if the country
is ever to experience a future where basic human rights to food,
shelter, health care and education are met. It will need people who
have already made dedicated sacrifices for peace, believing in an
Afghan adage that says “blood doesn’t wash away blood.”
Essentially,
people in Afghanistan will need people in the United States to
embrace this same teaching. We must express true sorrow, seek
forgiveness, and show valor similar to that of the brave people
insisting on human rights in Afghanistan today. Collectively,
recognizing the terrible legacy of 9/11, we must agree: To counter
terror, abolish war.
This commentary was originally
published by
LA
Progressive
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