Afghanistan is a Mess and Other Lies that You Have Been Told

Manipulating Narratives of Crisis and International Intervention

Pick up any newspaper over the past 12 months, and there are fairly good odds it will include an editorial about “the crisis in Afghanistan.” With US troops set to pull out by the end of 2014, many are busy writing the obituary for the international intervention in Afghanistan. Yet in many of the busy market streets in Kabul, the bustle of daily life continues unabated. Since I began doing research in Afghanistan in 2005, walls around the various embassies have grown higher, but life has not stopped in Afghanistan to the extent portrayed in the international media. In part this has to do with the way that the media attempts to frame the situation in Afghanistan (something written about extensively elsewhere), but this also comes from the way in which both international and Afghans, particularly the ruling elite, have developed a political system that benefits from the perception of crisis, meaning a wide array of actors work steadily to portray the situation as unstable, unsettled and dangerous.

While this might sound like structural-functionalism turned on its head (ie, there is stability in instability and the constant state of crisis), what is more striking is the way the term crisis has been used to shape the various narratives and frames for understanding the current state of Afghan politics. To a large extent the industry of international intervention is driven by narratives of crisis: international security firms get contracts only when there is a certain amount of insecurity and development NGOs get funds based upon the assumption that Afghanistan is underdeveloped. It is useful for these groups that Afghanistan is “insecure” and “underdeveloped.” Interventions like the current international presence in Afghanistan are James Ferguson’s anti-politics machine to the extreme: the state of crisis justifies a range of actions from drone strikes by the US military to corrupt, ineffective local government officials. Yet with President Hamid Karzai set to leave office next year and the number of international troops and the amount of donor funding declining rapidly, these narratives about crisis are no longer just justifications for international policy; they have taken on a life of their own in shaping local Afghan politics.

Potters in Crisis

The current state of crisis, for example, helps explain why Afghan potters have embraced certain pottery innovations and not others. Istalif, a beautiful picnic spot in the foothills of the Hindu Kush, is well-known for its distinctive blue pottery. The district has received a relatively high amount of international attention, both in the form of international visitors and NGOs working in the area. While a number NGOs that deal with crafts generally or ceramics in particular, have all, in some way worked to improve Istalifi pottery, most have reported frustration with their attempts despite the willingness of the potters to work with them.

Attempts by NGOs to convince potters to switch to lead-free glazes, use more efficient gas kilns and grind clay more finely have all had limited impact. Yet, at other moments the group demonstrates a remarkable ability to cater to the language and desires of these outsiders. (After one NGO suggested they imprint Made in Istalif on the bottom of pots, this practice was quickly taken up by a number of workshops.) Elders have also been more than willing to help NGOs set up training sessions, but at other moments balk at international proposals.

A closer look suggests that the willingness of the potters to embrace certain techniques and programs but not others has little to do with their feelings about outsiders. In fact, these decisions make good economic sense. Istalifi potters sell to local merchants, Kabuli elite picnicking in the area and a trickle of NGO workers, diplomats and other members of the international community, which tends to rise and fall depending upon security. These foreigners, and to a lesser extent, richer Kabuli visitors make up a large proportion of the potters’ profits.

As security in the country worsened starting in 2006, the number of foreigners coming to Istalif dropped, but the demand among an increasing number of military and civilians assigned to Afghanistan for pots and other mementos increased as well (one man who made imitation 19th century British rifles did very well at this time). Merchants with access to bazaars on military bases benefited the most, but the potters also found they could charge the few foreigners making it to Istalif more and more. Despite merchants being more reliable sources of consistent income, even more enticing is the money made off of foreigners purchasing pots. As the potters are aware, foreigners are not interested in purchasing pots because of their quality. They are interested in purchasing them because of the stories they tell. They demonstrate to those at home that the owner had traveled to a distant, exotic and dangerous local. Many pots, in fact come with wire attached so that they can be displayed immediately.

This idea of marketing authenticity is not a new one, but the type of authenticity that is being marketed in Istalif relies on a certain level of crisis. If Afghanistan were suddenly to become safe and stable, these pots would become mundane. As it is, the rustic pots, with their glazes often crazed, with small chips, usually a melancholy blue, fit the somber mood of the country well. The idea of a fragile, primitive pot coming from the war-torn country appeals to internationals, as do highly valued war rugs woven with motifs celebrating the jihad against the Soviets. Istalifi potters have in this way adapted their economic practices to fit the demands of internationals to purchase souvenirs from the crisis.

Political Economy of Winning Hearts and Minds

These narratives of crisis are even more important when greater amounts of political and economic capital are at stake. In the communities twenty miles to the east around Bagram Airbase, the international military, with limited knowledge of local political structures, relies on a series of contactors to manage local labor contracts and community relations. These contractors in turn rely on a small group of local elders and former commanders. The result is that, particularly early on, a very small group of local elite were able to collude on bidding for contracts on the base for supplying labor, performing construction projects and leasing land. These leaders also supervise local development projects that are a part of the counterinsurgency approach, aimed at “winning hearts and minds.” Instead of distributing these resources evenly, however, they tend to go to a small group of families closely attached to exclusive patronage networks. In the meantime, these community leaders have become so wealthy that few of them actually live in the community anymore, and have instead they have purchased property in Kabul and, in many instances, abroad.

The result is that local communities increasingly resent both these distant leaders and the international groups who they see supporting them and are gradually more willing to help insurgence conduct small scale attacks in the area. Those on the airbase, observing this increase in attacks, have responded by pumping more funds into local projects dominated by this small group of elders, solidifying local patronage structures that exclude most community members. In turn, the local elders continue to reinforce the narrative of an area in crisis, threatened by the Taliban and in need to international funds.

At higher political levels, Atta Mohammad Noor, governor of Balkh, has similarly taken advantage of perceptions of instability in the north to solidify his grip on this quasi-autonomous region. A former member of the Northern Alliance who fought against the Taliban, he was appointed by Karzai, but has developed his own patronage networks and is considered by most locals to have power independent from the national government. Particularly during the parliamentary elections of 2010, many local voters claimed that Atta encouraged local instability, in some cases, apparently facilitating Taliban attacks, despite his long opposition to the group. Concerned by these attacks the Election Commission backed by the United Nations shut down polling stations in Pashtun areas populated by Atta’s opponents. The result was that districts that support Atta were disproportionately represented, meaning that most of the current parliamentarians from Balkh are now firm Atta supporters.

The result of the instability in the area is that the national government really has little ability to influence Atta’s political decisions. In the meantime, because local government structures have been poorly developed, international donors, have few options other than working directly through Atta’s office and his clients as long as the ‘crisis’ continues.

Politics, Anti-Politics and Withdrawal

Anthropology has begun to develop a critique of the discourse of international intervention and the way in which the language of development helps create what James Ferguson has called an anti-politics machine, which expands the reach of the state, even while claiming a type of political atheism. In the case of Afghanistan, local groups are taking the language of international intervention and using it to further their own political and economic agendas. It may be argued that this type of approach looks like typical weapon of the weak, but this misses many of the ways in which local elites (who are only weak in comparison with international powers that fund them) are using intervention to expand their own power. Particularly, as the drawdown of funding and international troops continue, anthropology can help us be more aware of the ways in which narratives about crisis and misleading glosses can be manipulated. As 2014 approaches, the real crisis may be the ways in which the international intervention has helped the further disenfranchisement of many ordinary Afghans.

Noah Coburn is a political anthropologist at Bennington College and has a PhD in anthropology from Boston University. He has conducted research in Afghanistan since 2005. His book Bazaar Politics (Stanford 2011) focuses politics in a community of potters and his study of elections in Afghanistan, Derailing Democracy, is forthcoming.

via Anthropology-News http://www.anthropology-news.org/index.php/2013/06/11/afghanistan-is-a-mess-and-other-lies-that-you-have-been-told/