Empire's Paranoia About the Pashtuns
by
Tom
Engelhardt and Juan Cole
by Tom Engelhardt and Juan Cole
Recently by Tom Engelhardt: Are
Afghan Lives Worth Anything?
These days,
it seems as though the United States is conducting its wars in places
remarkably unfamiliar to most Americans. Its CIA-operated drone
aircraft, for instance, have been regularly firing missiles into
Waziristan, where, in one
strike in June, an estimated 80 tribespeople were killed while
at a funeral procession for the dead from a previous drone strike.
Waziristan?
If you asked most Americans whether their safety depended on killing
people in Waziristan, they might wonder what you were talking about.
But not in Washington, where Waziristan, the Swat Valley, the Lower
Dir district, the Federally Administered Tribal Areas, also known
as FATA, and the North-West Frontier Province, among other places
you'd previously never heard of, are not only on the collective
mind but evidently considered crucial to the well-being, and even
existence, of the United States. Perhaps that's simply the new norm.
After all, we now live in a thoroughly ramped-up atmosphere in which
"American national security" defined to include just about
anything unsettling that occurs anywhere on Earth is the
eternal preoccupation of a vast national security bureaucracy whose
bread and butter increasingly seems to be worst-case scenarios.
The ongoing
hysteria
about lightly settled, mountainous Pashtun tribal lands in Pakistan
on or near the ill-defined Afghan border might seem unique to our
imperial moment. So imagine my surprise when Juan Cole told me it
actually has a history more than a century old. And there's nothing
like a little history lesson, is there, to put the strange hysterias
of our moment into perspective?
Cole has just
written a whole book about America's "Islam Anxiety," Engaging
the Muslim World, and his invaluable website Informed
Comment is one of my first daily on-line stops so who
better to offer a little history lesson in imperial delusions of
grandeur and peril? If you feel like a more extensive lesson in
what to make of the gamut of issues where the U.S. and the Muslim
world meet, or rather collide, don't miss his book. It's a continual
eye-opener. ~ Tom
Armageddon
at the Top of the World: Not!
A Century of Frenzy over the North-West Frontier
By Juan
Cole
WHAT, what,
what,
What's the news from Swat?
Sad news,
Bad news,
Comes by the cable led
Through the Indian Ocean's bed,
Through the Persian Gulf, the Red
Sea and the Med-
Iterranean he 's dead;
The Ahkoond is dead!
~ George
Thomas Lanigan
Despite being
among the poorest people in the world, the inhabitants of the craggy
northwest of what is now Pakistan have managed to throw a series
of frights into distant Western capitals for more than a century.
That's certainly one for the record books.
And it hasn't
ended yet. Not by a long shot. Not with the headlines in the U.S.
papers about the depredations of the Pakistani Taliban, not with
the CIA's drone aircraft striking gatherings in Waziristan and elsewhere
near the Afghan border. This spring, for instance, one counter-terrorism
analyst stridently (and wholly implausibly) warned
that "in one to six months" we could "see the collapse of the Pakistani
state," at the hands of the bloodthirsty Taliban, while Secretary
of State Hillary Clinton called
the situation in Pakistan a "mortal danger" to global security.
What most
observers don't realize is that the doomsday
rhetoric about this region at the top of the world is hardly
new. It's at least 100 years old. During their campaigns in the
northwest in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries,
British officers, journalists and editorialists sounded much like
American strategists, analysts, and pundits of the present moment.
They construed the Pashtun tribesmen who inhabited Waziristan as
the new Normans, a dire menace to London that threatened to overturn
the British Empire.
The young
Winston S. Churchill even wrote a book in 1898, The
Story of the Malakand Field Force, about a late-nineteenth-century
British campaign in Pashtun territory, based on his earlier journalism
there. At that time, London ruled British India, comprising all
of what is now India, Bangladesh, and Pakistan, but the British
hold on the mountainous northwestern region abutting Afghanistan
and the Himalayas was tenuous. In trying to puzzle out like
modern analysts why the predecessors of the Pakistani Taliban
posed such a huge challenge to empire, Churchill singled out two
reasons for the martial prowess of those Pashtun tribesmen. One
was Islam, of which he wrote,
"That religion, which above all others was founded and propagated
by the sword the tenets and principles of which are instinct
with incentives to slaughter and which in three continents has produced
fighting breeds of men stimulates a wild and merciless fanaticism."
Churchill
actually revealed his prejudices here. In fact, for the most part,
Islam spread peacefully in what is now Pakistan, by the preaching
and poetry of mystical Sufi leaders, and most Muslims have not been
more warlike in history than, for example, Anglo-Saxons.
For his second
reason, he settled on the environment in which those tribesmen were
supposed to thrive. "The inhabitants of these wild but wealthy valleys"
are, he explained, in "a continual state of feud and strife." In
addition, he insisted, they were early adopters of military technology,
so that their weapons were not as primitive as was common among
other "races" at what he referred to as "their stage" of development.
"To the ferocity of the Zulu are added the craft of the Redskin
and the marksmanship of the Boer," he warned.
In these tribesmen,
he concluded, "the world is presented with that grim spectacle,
'the strength of civilization without its mercy.'" The Pashtun were,
he added, excellent marksmen, who could fell the unwary Westerner
with a state-of-the-art breech-loading rifle. "His assailant, approaching,
hacks him to death with the ferocity of a South-Sea Islander. The
weapons of the nineteenth century are in the hands of the savages
of the Stone Age."
Ironically,
given Churchill's description of them, when four decades later the
Pashtuns joined the freedom movement against British rule that led
to the formation of independent Pakistan and India in 1947, politicized
Pashtuns were notable not for savagery, but for joining Mahatma
Gandhi's campaign of non-violent non-cooperation.
Nevertheless,
the Churchillian image of primitive, fanatical brutality armed with
cutting edge technology, which singled Pashtuns out as an extraordinary
peril to the West, survived the Victorian era and has now made it
into the headlines of our own newspapers. Bruce Riedel, a former
Central Intelligence Agency analyst, was tasked by the Obama administration
to evaluate security threats in Afghanistan and Pakistan. Arnaud
de Borchgrave of the Washington Times reported breathlessly
on July 17th that Riedel had concluded:
"A
jihadist victory in Pakistan, meaning the takeover of the nation
by a militant Sunni movement led by the Taliban... would create
the greatest threat the United States has yet to face in its war
on terror... [and] is now a real possibility in the foreseeable
future."
The article,
in true Churchillian fashion, is entitled
"Armageddon Alarm Bell Rings."
In fact, few
intelligence predictions could have less chance of coming true.
In the 2008 parliamentary election, the Pakistani public voted in
centrist parties, some of them secular, virtually ignoring the Muslim
fundamentalist parties. Today in Pakistan, there are about 24 million
Pashtuns, a linguistic ethnic group that speaks Pashto. Another
13 million live across the British-drawn "Durand Line," the border
mostly unacknowledged by Pashtuns between Pakistan
and southern Afghanistan. Most Taliban derive from this group, but
the vast majority of Pashtuns are not Taliban and do not much care
for the Muslim radicals.
The Taliban
force that was handily defeated this spring by the Pakistani army
in a swift campaign in the Swat Valley in the North-West Frontier
Province, amounted to a mere 4,000 men. The Pakistani military is
550,000 strong and has a similar number of reservists. It has tanks,
artillery, and fighter jets. The Taliban's appeal is limited to
that country's Pashtun ethnic group, about 14% of the population
and, from everything we can tell, it is a minority taste even among
them. The Taliban can commit terrorism and destabilize, but they
cannot take over the Pakistani government.
Some Western
analysts worry that the Taliban could unite with disgruntled junior
officers of the Pakistani Army, who could come to power in a putsch
and so offer their Taliban allies access to sophisticated weaponry.
Successful Pakistani coups, however, have been made by the chief
of staff at the top, not by junior officers, since the military
is quite disciplined. Far from coup-making to protect the Taliban,
the military has actually spent the past year in hard slogging against
them in the Federally Administered Tribal Area of Bajaur and more
recently in Swat.
Today's fantasy
of a nuclear-armed Taliban is the modern equivalent of Churchill's
anxiety about those all-conquering, ultramodern Pashtun riflemen
with the instincts of savages.
Frontier
Ward and Watch
On a recent
research trip to the India Office archives in London to plunge into
British military memoirs of the Waziristan campaigns in the first
half of the twentieth century, I was overcome by a vivid sense of
déjà vu. The British in India fought three wars with Afghanistan,
losing the first two decisively, and barely achieving a draw in
the third in 1919. Among the Afghan king Amanullah's demands during
the third war were that the Pashtun tribes of the frontier be allowed
to give him their fealty and that Britain permit Afghanistan to
conduct a sovereign foreign policy. He lost on the first demand,
but won on the second and soon signed a treaty of friendship with
the newly established Soviet Union.
Disgruntled
Pashtun tribes in Waziristan, a no-man's land sandwiched between
the Afghan border and the formal boundary of the British-ruled North-West
Frontier Province, preferred Kabul's rule to that of London, and
launched their own attacks on the British, beginning in 1919. Putting
down the rebellious Wazir and Mahsud tribes of this region would,
in the end, cost imperial Britain's treasury three times as much
as had the Third Anglo-Afghan War itself.
On May 2,
1921, long after the Pashtun tribesmen should have been pacified,
the Manchester Guardian carried a panicky news release by
the British Viceroy of India on a Mahsud attack. "Enemy activity
continues throughout," the alarmed message from Viceroy Rufus Isaacs,
the Marquess of Reading, said, implying that a massive uprising
on the subcontinent was underway. In fact, the action at that point
was in only a small set of villages in one part of Waziristan, itself
but one of several otherwise relatively quiet tribal areas.
On the 23rd
of that month, a large band of Mahsud struck "convoys" near the
village of Piazha. British losses included a British officer killed,
four British and two Indian officers wounded, and seven Indian troops
killed, with 26 wounded. On the 24th, "a picket [sentry outpost]
near Suidgi was ambushed, and lost nine killed and seven wounded."
In nearby Zhob, the British received support from friendly Pashtun
tribes engaged in a feud with what they called the "hostiles," and
a modern touch "aeroplanes" weighed in as well. They
were, it was said, "cooperating," though this too was an exaggeration.
At the time, the Royal Air Force (RAF) was eager to prove its colonial
worth on the imperial frontiers in ways that extended beyond simple
reconnaissance, even though in 1921 it maintained but a single airplane
at Peshawar, the nearest city, which had "a hole in its wing." By
1925, the RAF had gotten its wish and would drop
150 tons of bombs on the Mahsud tribe.
On July 5,
1921, a newspaper report in the Allahabad Pioneer gives a
sense of the tactics the British deployed against the "hostiles."
One center of rebellion was the village of Makin, inhabited by that
same Mahsud tribe, which apparently wanted its own irrigation system
and freedom from British interference. The British Indian army held
the nearby village of Ladka. "Makin was shelled from Ladka on the
20th June," the report ran.
The tribal
fighters responded by beginning to move their flocks, though their
families remained. British archival sources report that a Muslim
holy man, or faqir, attempted to give the people of Makin
hope by laying a spell on the 6-inch howitzer shells and pledging
that they would no longer explode in the valley. (Overblown imperial
anxiety about such faqirs or akhonds, Pashtun religious
leaders, inspired Victorian satirists such as Edward Lear, who began
one poem, "Who, or why, or which, or what, Is the Akond of Swat?")
The faqir's
spells were to no avail. The shelling, the Pioneer reported,
continued over the next two days, "with good results." Then on the
23rd, "another bombardment of Makin was carried out by our 6-inch
howitzers at Ladka." This shelling "had a great moral effect," the
newspaper intoned, and revealed with satisfaction that "the inhabitants
are now evacuating their families." The particular nature of the
moral effect of bombarding a civilian village where women and children
were known to be present was not explained. Two days later, however,
thanks to air observation, the howitzers at Ladka and the guns at
"Piazha camp" made a "direct hit" on another similarly obscure village.
Such accounts
of small, vicious engagements in mountainous villages with (to British
ears) outlandish names fit oddly with the strange conviction of
the elite and the press that the fate of the Empire was somehow
at stake just as strangely as similar reports out of exactly
the same area, often involving the very same tribes, do in our own
time. On July 7, 2009, for instance, the Pakistani newspaper The
Nation published a typical daily report
on the Swat valley campaign which might have come right out of the
early twentieth century. Keep in mind that this was a campaign into
which the Obama administration forced the Pakistani government to
save itself and the American position in the Greater Middle East,
and which displaced some two million people, risking the actual
destabilization of the whole northwestern region of Pakistan. It
went in part:
"[T]he
security forces during search operation at Banjut, Swat, recovered
50 mules loaded with arms and ammunition, medicines and ration and
also apprehended a few terrorists. During search operation at Thana,
an improvised explosive device (IED) went off causing injuries to
a soldier. As a result of operation at Tahirabad, Mingora, the security
forces recovered surgical equipment, nine hand grenades and office
furniture from the house of a militant."
The unfamiliar
place names, the attention to confiscated mules, and the fear of
tribal militancy differed little from the reports in the Pioneer
from nearly a century before. Echoing Viceroy Rufus Isaacs, U.S.
Secretary of State Hillary Clinton said
on July 14th, "Our national security as well as the future of Afghanistan
depends on a stable, democratic, and economically viable Pakistan.
We applaud the new Pakistani determination to deal with the militants
who threaten their democracy and our shared security."
As in 1921,
so in 2009, the skirmishes were ignored by the general public in
the West despite the frenzied assertions of politicians that the
fate of the world hung in the balance.
A Paranoid
View of the Pashtuns, Then and Now
On July 21,
1921, a "correspondent" for the Allahabad Pioneer
as anonymous as he was vehement explained how some firefights
in Waziristan might indeed be consequential for Western civilization.
He attacked "Irresponsible Criticism" of the military budget required
to face down the Mahsud tribe. He asked, "What is India's strategical
position in the world today?" It was a leading question. "Along
hundreds of miles of her border," he then warned darkly in a mammoth
run-on sentence, "are scores of thousands of hardy fighters trained
to war and rapine from their very birth, never for an instant forgetful
of the soft wealth of India's plains, all of whom would descend
to harry them tomorrow if they thought the venture safe, some of
whom are determinedly at war with us even now."
Note that
he does not explain the challenge posed by the Pashtun tribes in
terms of typical military considerations, which would require attention
to the exact numbers, training, equipment, tactics and logistics
of the fighters, and which would have revealed them as no significant
threat to the Indian plains, however hard they were to control in
their own territory. The "correspondent" instead ridicules urban
"pen-pushers," who little appreciate the "heavy task" of "frontier
ward and watch."
Not only were
the tribes a danger in themselves, the hawkish correspondent intoned,
but "beyond India's border lies a great country [Afghanistan] with
whom we are not even yet technically at peace." Nor was that all.
The recently-established Soviet Union, with which Afghanistan had
concluded a treaty of friendship that February, loomed as the real
threat behind the radical Pashtuns. "Beyond that again is a huge
mad-dog nation that acknowledges no right save the sword, no creed
save aggression, murder and loot, that will stay at nothing to gain
its end, that covets avowedly a descent upon India above all other
aims."
That then-Soviet
leader Vladimir Lenin, who took an extremely dim view of colonialism
and seriously considered freeing the Central Asian possessions of
the old tsarist empire, was then contemplating the rape of India
is among the least believable calumnies in imperial propaganda.
The "correspondent" would have none of it. Those, he concludes,
who dare criticize the military budget should try sweet-talking
the Mahsud, the Wazir and the Bolsheviks.
In our own
day as well, pundits configure the uncontrolled Pashtuns as merely
the tip of a geostrategic iceberg, with the sinister icy menace
of al-Qaeda stretching beneath, and beyond that greater challenges
to the U.S. such as Iran
(incredibly, sometimes charged by the U.S. military with supporting
the hyper-Sunni, Shiite-hating Taliban in Afghanistan). Occasionally
in this decade, attempts have even been made to tie the
Russian bear once again to the Pashtun tribes.
In the case
of the British Empire, whatever the imperial fears, the actual cost
in lives and expenditure of campaigning in the Hindu Kush mountain
range was enough to ensure that such engagements would be of relatively
limited duration. On October 26, 1921, the Pioneer reported
that the British government of India had determined to implement
a new system in Waziristan, dependent on tribal mercenaries.
"This system,
which was so successfully inaugurated in the Khyber district last
year," the article explained, "is really an adaptation of the methods
in vogue 40 years ago." The tribal commander provided his own weapons
and equipment, and for a fee, protected imperial lines of communication
and provided security on the roads. "Thus he has an interest in
maintaining the tranquility of his territory, and gives support
to the more stable elements among the tribes when the hotheads are
apt to run amok." The system would be adopted, the article says,
to put an end to the ruinous costs of "punitive expeditions of merely
ephemeral pacificatory value."
Absent-minded
empire keeps reinventing the local tribal levy, loyal to foreign
capitals and paid by them, as a way of keeping the hostiles in check.
The U.S. Council on Foreign Relations reported
late last year that "U.S. military commanders are studying the
feasibility of recruiting Afghan tribesmen... to target Taliban
and al-Qaeda elements. Taking a page from the so-called 'Sunni Awakening'
in Iraq, which turned Sunni tribesmen against militants first in
Anbar Province and then beyond, the strategic about-face in Afghanistan
would seek to extend power from Kabul to the country's myriad tribal
militias." Likewise, the Pakistani government has attempted to deploy
tribal fighters against the Taliban in the Federally Administered
areas such as Bajaur. It remains to be seen whether this strategy
can succeed.
Both in the
era between the two world wars and again in the early twenty-first
century, the Pashtun peoples have been objects of anxiety in world
capitals out of all proportion to the security challenge they actually
pose. As it turned out, the real threat to the British Isles in
the twentieth century emanated from one of what Churchill called
their "civilized" European neighbors. Nothing the British tried
in the North-West Frontier and its hinterland actually worked. By
the 1940s the British hold on the tribal agencies and frontier regions
was shakier than ever before, and the tribes more assertive. After
the British were forced out of the subcontinent in 1947, London's
anxieties about the Pashtuns and their world-changing potential
abruptly evaporated.
Today,
we are again hearing that the Waziris and the Mahsuds are dire threats
to Western civilization. The tribal struggle for control of obscure
villages in the foothills of the Himalayas is being depicted as
a life-and-death matter for the North Atlantic world. Again, there
is aerial surveillance, bombing, artillery fire, and this
time displacement of civilians on a scale no British viceroy
ever contemplated.
In 1921, vague
threats to the British Empire from a small, weak principality of
Afghanistan and a nascent, if still supine, Soviet Union underpinned
a paranoid view of the Pashtuns. Today, the supposed entanglement
with al-Qaeda of those Pashtuns termed "Taliban" by U.S. and NATO
officials or even with Iran or Russia has focused
Washington's and Brussels's military and intelligence efforts on
the highland villagers once again.
Few of the
Pashtuns in question, even the rebellious ones, are really Taliban
in the sense of militant seminary students; few so-called Taliban
are entwined with what little is left of al-Qaeda in the region;
and Iran and Russia are not, of course, actually supporting the
latter. There may be plausible reasons for which the U.S. and NATO
wish to spend blood and treasure in an attempt to forcibly shape
the politics of the 38 million Pashtuns on either side of the Durand
Line in the twenty-first century. That they form a dire menace to
the security of the North Atlantic world is not one of them.
July
28, 2009
Tom
Engelhardt [send him mail]
co-founder
of the Nation Institute's TomDispatch.com, is the co-founder of
the American Empire
Project. His book, The
End of Victory Culture, has recently been updated in a newly
issued edition. He edited, and his work appears in, the first best
of TomDispatch book, The
World According to TomDispatch: America in the New Age of Empire
(Verso), an alternative history of the mad Bush years. To catch
an audio interview in which he discusses our airborne assassins,
click here. Juan
Cole is the Richard P. Mitchell Professor of History at the University
of Michigan. His most recent book, Engaging
the Muslim World (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009), was
published this spring. He has appeared widely on television, radio,
and on op-ed pages as a commentator on Middle East affairs, and
has a regular column at Salon.com.
He has written, edited, or translated 15 books, and authored 65
journal articles and chapters. He is the proprietor of the
Informed Comment weblog on current affairs.
Copyright
© 2009 Juan Cole
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