On Afghanistan

I have been trying really, really hard to not get sucked into the secular drama that is out in the world on FaceBook, news reports, and other social media chatter; my focus needs to be on God and the image of Christ that I portray to the world, and most of the arguments and issues being debated (that is a really kind word for the vitriol I see and hear on a daily basis) are issues  that are never going to be resolved to everyone’s satisfaction--this is nothing new.The reason I try to NOT get embroiled in these debates and echo chambers is simple: they do not personally and directly affect me and my quality of life, and more importantly, they have no bearing on my salvation, so I normally stay out of the fray and refuse to enlist in the tribal mentality so prevalent in today’s society. 

But, something recently truly struck a nerve, causing me sleepless nights, not a few tears, and a sense of helplessness: the bungled withdrawal of the troops from Afghanistan, and the deafening silence that ensued when military and political leaders were questioned. No real news coverage, no investigation, no Congressional inquiry, and no publicized outcry demanding accountability—other than some videos and posts on social media channels, and those were quickly relegated to a trash basket of “disgruntled military and veterans.” Had this happened on President Trump’s watch, mainstream media, his political opponents, FaceBook, Twitter, and other social media giants would be screaming for accountability, probably even demanding impeachment of the President and resignation of senior military leaders. Not now, no—instead all channels are flooded with the Gabby Petito and Brian Laundrie saga for the past 30 days. Sure, it’s sad, but she is one of over 600,000 Americans who go missing every year; the timing of focusing nearly all news on that one story brings me pause. She went missing on August 24, and was officially reported missing by her family on August 28, the weekend all hell broke loose at the Kabul airport. Stealing a line from one of the Star Wars movies (don't ask me which one), this is a classic example of "These are not the droids you seek.” Swiftly silenced, swept under the rug, all focus shifted to a missing 22 year old and an uproar over Haitian immigrants being chased by the border patrol on horses. 

Silenced until a 17-year veteran and battalion commander, Marine Lt Col Stuart Scheller, posted a video demanding accountability from senior Marine leaders after 13 service members, 11 of them Marines, one of which Scheller knew personally, were killed in a suicide bombing outside the airport they were trying to protect. Admittedly, making the video in uniform was sure to cause an uproar in the tight-assed Marine community, and many veterans and current servicemen criticize him for that, but something tells me he knew his video and statements would carry more weight and credibility if he wore his uniform.  The video went viral, and within hours he was relieved of his command, and as of today, sits in the brig at Camp Lejeune pending an Article 32 hearing (an Article 32 hearing determines if the offense(s) warrant trial by court-martial). Lt Col Scheller has since posted two more videos in which he resigns his commission and implores senior leaders to take accountability, a sentiment echoed by the majority of military, both currently serving and veterans. 

Accountability??? For senior officers, for those in power, for military officers and senior enlisted, or any military member with connections, yeah what a joke. In the 32 years I served my country—22 years on active duty, and 10 years as a contractor—accountability was anything but fair and equitable. Wing commanders who used their position and power to have affairs with wives of their subordinates, and, when discovered, were allowed to retire as if nothing had happened. My own single airman being denied reenlistment for having an affair with a married officer, while that officer was given a slap on the wrist and allowed to continue on with his career as if nothing happened. Rampant sexual abuse from senior enlisted members and officers, lying and cheating and stealing: in short, any crime or immoral behavior you see in the civilian sector, I saw in the military. But true accountability? None. Scapegoats? Plenty of them. So upon hearing Scheller demand accountability from his chain of command, and the echoes of other service members demanding accountability from their chain of command, all the way up to the commander in chief, I sighed. I applaud him, but at the same time, I seriously doubt it will ever happen.  

 
Back to the Afghanistan debacle: how does the largest organization supporting veterans, the Veteran’s Administration, respond to this debacle? By quickly posting videos on their website, activating a crisis line for Afghanistan veterans (with the ubiquitous tag line “you are not alone,”) publishing blogs, and sending an email to every single veteran on the VA rolls. Funny that no videos or blogs or personal emails from the director were sent in the previous 20 years, but all of the sudden, now we are flooded with help and advice and resources to “help” us deal with the anger and confusion and disillusionment over the fallout of a botched withdrawal from a country we all had something to do with helping since 2001. And to that, I cry BULLSHIT! The emails, blogs, crisis lines, “thank you for your service” comments from politicians and senior officials in the military are vain attempts to atone for the worst military withdrawal in history, virtue signaling at its finest. And, the continued insistence from the commander in chief and his senior level military advisors and joint chiefs that “we stand by our decision” is a slap in the face of all who served. 

Am I saying I believe we should have stayed in Afghanistan indefinitely? No, and I’m not alone in saying we had already been there far longer than we should have been. But, to abruptly abandon the country in the infancy of learning how to protect and govern themselves, to pull the only safety net they had for two decades out from under them, was dishonorable and foolhardy, to put it mildly. The Afghan security forces and fledgling government were not even close to being ready to take back the reins of their country, a country with a multiethnic society, comprised of at least fifteen different tribes dating back thousands of years; the only uniting thread among these warring tribes being their religion: Islam. Outsiders (Alexander the Great, Iran, India, Russia, and the United States, to name a few) have tried unsuccessfully for centuries to "tame" Afghanis, a people for all intents and purposes living in the 15th century, endorsing honor killings, amputation of limbs or execution as punishment for crimes. We stormed in there, guns blazing, ostensibly to avenge the atrocities of 9/11, and 20 years later, after a great loss of life and billions of dollars, realized the futility of “converting” Afghanistan to our way of life. Withdrawal was inevitable, as it was in Vietnam; it was just a matter of determining when we could beat feet, tuck our tails, and run. 

So, how do I feel about the events  in Afghanistan? I am angry, hurt, sad, and ashamed to be an American right now—I think of the maimed soldiers, I can see the boxes marked “human remains” on my flights from Bagram to Kandahar to Kabul to Qatar. Mostly, though, what makes me lose sleep, what makes me truly ashamed of my country, is the abandonment and downright betrayal of those Afghanis who worked alongside us, who risked their lives and the lives of their families to be our interpreters and cultural liaisons in a country we did not understand. I remember the three teenage boys, barefoot and wearing bits and pieces of ill-fitting uniforms, rifles slung over their shoulders, letting me into the compound at night and graciously offering me a cup of chai. I see the women and girls allowed to go to school for the first time in their lives, and selling their beautiful handmade linens and wares at the weekly market. I see the children clamoring for food, for money, for pencils, for shoes, for whatever we “rich Americans” could spare.  I see a country so poor and so beautiful but entrenched in the past. Photos of Afghan civilians trying to stop huge aircraft while taxiing, some of them even desperate enough to try to hitch a ride on the plane’s landing gear (and inevitably falling to their deaths), whole families shoving their papers and passports at beleaguered American soldiers, trying to attain safe passage out of a country that was falling apart. And all I can ask is, “why?”  Was it worth it? Did those service men and women die or return home crippled mentally and physically in vain? How do we make sense of it all for them? 

We don’t. Only God can see the future, and how it will play out. But I am still angry.

Many of my friends and family have asked me “What do you think of the Afghanistan withdrawal?” and “How does it make you feel?” 

Well, now you know. 

Vent over.