Would Kipling Approve?

Rudyard Kipling did not have a particularly cheerful view of British involvement in
Afghanistan in the19th Century. That, none the less, is where Canadian forces – and
Canadian diplomats – now find themselves deployed, in action, being wounded, and
being killed. The realization that our involvement in the world is not risk-free seems to
be something of a shock to sectors of the Canadian public, with one result being calls
for a larger public discussion of the nature, extent and duration of our commitment to
Afghanistan. The Conservative government has not committed itself to such a
discussion as yet, though the opportunity may arise when our current commitment ends
in the fall of 2006. Two items of interest might be noted in passing in this regard. First,
the deployment and use of Canadian forces seems to be a prerogative of the Crown,
thus of the government, and need not be subject even to Parliamentary debate as such,
much less Parliamentary approval. Second, even some supporters of the current
deployment seem to want a larger discussion.
The benefits of such a discussion are not to be discounted, particularly if they help to
lead Canadians to a more mature, reflective and realistic view of the world, Canada’s
stake and place in it, and the role of the military as an instrument of policy. For this to
occur, however, a variety of arguments offered both against and in defence of our
current commitment and activities in Afghanistan must be identified and addressed,
largely to remove them from the table. Then we can consider what is left.
“This is an American war.” This argument seems to be basically a backwash from
the war in Iraq, indicating, perhaps, a forgetting of the precise circumstances under
which the US – and Canada, among others – got involved in Afghanistan. Our
involvement followed from our NATO membership and the invoking of Article 5 of the
North Atlantic Treaty following September 11, 2001. Unlike the Iraq war, the US
invasion of Afghanistan, and the subsequent multinational presence in that country,
seem to have raised little or no strong international condemnation, including from the
United Nations. Our presence in Afghanistan is tied to the objective of trying to create a
stable national government, in control of the country, which can prevent it from being
used again as a safe haven for terrorism.
“Our involvement in Afghanistan damages our international reputation as
peacekeepers.” The evidence underlying this claim is hard to see, aside from the
sentiments of those who support the statement. In fact, missions of this type have
become more frequent even in respect to UN operations. In failed or failing states, the
provision of public order and security in a context of internal conflict has been shown to
be a vital element in any real restoration of peace. While it is true that forces in
Afghanistan mean fewer resources available to devote to specifically UN operations, the
implied argument that a UN commitment must necessarily take priority over other uses
of our military in support of our national objectives is not clearly presented and
defended.
“Don’t cut and run” A reputation for persistence is certainly an advantage: it tends to
discourage others from testing you. However, persistence in folly is not a virtue. This
argument depends implicitly on the underlying soundness of our presence in
Afghanistan, and thus begs the question. It only makes sense if the national interest is
being well-served by what we are doing. Otherwise, it is merely macho posing.
“Support our troops.” Indeed, yes. But the best support for our troops is to use them
wisely in support of feasible and rational objectives. Again, this begs the question.
“We are helping the Afghani people – including particularly the women of
Afghanistan. “ That the Afghani people have suffered dreadfully for decades is without
argument. That Afghani women in particular suffered under the Taliban government in
ways we find abhorrent, and that a good deal of this continues today, is without
argument. Honesty requires us to admit, however, that neither of these considerations
took us into Afghanistan, and neither would likely be sufficient to keep us there.
Bettering the lot of the people of that country will be a necessary element of our
strategy, and bettering the lot of the women of Afghanistan may be a desirable byproduct
of our presence and of our hoped-for success. However, we are not there in a
primary role as cultural transformers, and being too ambitious in this regard could make
the task of establishing a stable and accepted government there, even a government
relatively more modern in its attitudes to women, more difficult. Moreover, a sure fire
means to inflame Afghan opinion against us and to support those fighting us is to
promote a social revolution in the country. Does anyone really want to fight a liberal
internationalist crusade in Kandahar, except for pro-war feminists?
There is at least one question posed by those who challenge our commitment to
Afghanistan that is central, however: what makes us think that we can be more
successful than the Soviet Union? What are we trying to accomplish? How are we trying
to accomplish it? Is our approach feasible, at a cost we are willing to pay? And is the
game worth the candle? These are questions worth asking. The answers, however, will
not be found in simple terms or 30-second sound-bites. They require a focused,
sophisticated, unsentimental and informed debate. That, in turn, poses another
question: is the Canadian public up to that challenge?

James F. Keeley and John R. Ferris