Michael Clarke
by Michael Clarke
And so we have reached the end of Britain’s latest Afghan war, its fourth. It is commonly assumed that Britain always loses in Afghanistan, but that’s not true.
The first Afghan war ended ambiguously, and the second and third were decisive British victories. There were some notable defeats on the battlefield, such as the ill-fated retreat from Kabul to Jalalabad in 1842 and the crushing defeat at the battle of Maiwand in Helmand province in 1880.
But imperial Britain was not thwarted in any of these wars – however questionable we may now judge those conflicts to have been. From the first Afghan war in 1839 to the third in 1919, London’s strategic objectives – keeping Russia clear of India – were achieved.
However, this fourth Afghan war will be assessed against different strategic criteria. It will take some time to make a definitive judgment.
One part of that judgment will have to be counter-factual. If the powers that removed the Taliban after 9/11 had just left Afghanistan at the end of 2001, it is entirely possible that the country would have broken up into a north-west centred on Kabul and Herat, and a south-east based around Kandahar. This segment includes the Pashtun heartland that straddles the Pakistan border.
An Afghanistan fragmented in this way might have brought Pakistan itself nearer to real collapse. Staying engaged in Afghanistan after the Taliban and Al Qaeda were sent packing was the least worst option. An even more disruptive crisis across south Asia was, and remains, a strong possibility.
The problem was that the western powers did not then stay genuinely engaged, with the next five years wasted until the second phase began in 2006.
They were distracted by the Iraqi intervention, which was a genuine strategic blunder, and in those years of distraction the Hamid Karzai government went rogue on its western backers and became a significant part of the problem itself.
The other regional powers that mattered – India, China, Saudi Arabia and Iran – were happy to stand back and see how the western powers fared.
They would not genuinely commit to any broadly agreed solution for Afghanistan, and hedged their bets against western failure – a strategy that made failure itself more likely.
In the midst of this international collapse of will, the British took responsibility for Helmand in 2006. It was a move dictated as much by our relations with the US as by our interest in south Asian security.
Nevertheless, putting aside the current activities of the Taliban in the upper Sangin valley, British troops leave behind a province that has better political and economic chances than when they arrived. But therein also lies the problem. Britain took on a single province in a big country and found itself severely stretched when the security challenges were worse than had been anticipated.
Operating in Helmand, as difficult as it was, did not put Britain in a position to really influence the future of the country. The overall campaign for Afghanistan could have been lost in Helmand, but it could never have been won there.
The truth is that British forces took big risks and worked hard in a series of engagements that did not constitute a genuine strategic campaign.
Rather, British commanders strove to maintain a distinctive British identity in what were essentially tactical operations. They struggled to maintain clarity of purpose in the face of multinational strategic objectives that seemed to change with monotonous regularity.
A real counter-insurgency campaign involves military commanders who can direct significant resources to outmanoeuvre insurgents across a wide area, and civilian mentors who can work with the host government to help create the political conditions for peace. The British had neither of these levers to pull. British forces were reduced to a “cope and hope” strategy.
Whereas in post-colonial operations, and even in the Balkans, the British had a great deal of influence with the host governments they supported and could choose to hand over control when they were confident about the outcome, here they have simply reached the end of what they can usefully contribute. Now that they have no option but to let events take their course.
So as the UK troops leave Camp Bastion, they will not be coming back with a victory to be celebrated in Trafalgar Square. Nor, however, have the results of their efforts been dishonourable or a national humiliation. They have done a good job in support of an imperfect strategy, the success of which they can no longer influence.
They coped; now we hope.
THE GUARDIAN
by Michael Clarke
And so we have reached the end of Britain’s latest Afghan war, its fourth. It is commonly assumed that Britain always loses in Afghanistan, but that’s not true.
The first Afghan war ended ambiguously, and the second and third were decisive British victories. There were some notable defeats on the battlefield, such as the ill-fated retreat from Kabul to Jalalabad in 1842 and the crushing defeat at the battle of Maiwand in Helmand province in 1880.
But imperial Britain was not thwarted in any of these wars – however questionable we may now judge those conflicts to have been. From the first Afghan war in 1839 to the third in 1919, London’s strategic objectives – keeping Russia clear of India – were achieved.
However, this fourth Afghan war will be assessed against different strategic criteria. It will take some time to make a definitive judgment.
One part of that judgment will have to be counter-factual. If the powers that removed the Taliban after 9/11 had just left Afghanistan at the end of 2001, it is entirely possible that the country would have broken up into a north-west centred on Kabul and Herat, and a south-east based around Kandahar. This segment includes the Pashtun heartland that straddles the Pakistan border.
An Afghanistan fragmented in this way might have brought Pakistan itself nearer to real collapse. Staying engaged in Afghanistan after the Taliban and Al Qaeda were sent packing was the least worst option. An even more disruptive crisis across south Asia was, and remains, a strong possibility.
The problem was that the western powers did not then stay genuinely engaged, with the next five years wasted until the second phase began in 2006.
They were distracted by the Iraqi intervention, which was a genuine strategic blunder, and in those years of distraction the Hamid Karzai government went rogue on its western backers and became a significant part of the problem itself.
The other regional powers that mattered – India, China, Saudi Arabia and Iran – were happy to stand back and see how the western powers fared.
They would not genuinely commit to any broadly agreed solution for Afghanistan, and hedged their bets against western failure – a strategy that made failure itself more likely.
In the midst of this international collapse of will, the British took responsibility for Helmand in 2006. It was a move dictated as much by our relations with the US as by our interest in south Asian security.
Nevertheless, putting aside the current activities of the Taliban in the upper Sangin valley, British troops leave behind a province that has better political and economic chances than when they arrived. But therein also lies the problem. Britain took on a single province in a big country and found itself severely stretched when the security challenges were worse than had been anticipated.
Operating in Helmand, as difficult as it was, did not put Britain in a position to really influence the future of the country. The overall campaign for Afghanistan could have been lost in Helmand, but it could never have been won there.
The truth is that British forces took big risks and worked hard in a series of engagements that did not constitute a genuine strategic campaign.
Rather, British commanders strove to maintain a distinctive British identity in what were essentially tactical operations. They struggled to maintain clarity of purpose in the face of multinational strategic objectives that seemed to change with monotonous regularity.
A real counter-insurgency campaign involves military commanders who can direct significant resources to outmanoeuvre insurgents across a wide area, and civilian mentors who can work with the host government to help create the political conditions for peace. The British had neither of these levers to pull. British forces were reduced to a “cope and hope” strategy.
Whereas in post-colonial operations, and even in the Balkans, the British had a great deal of influence with the host governments they supported and could choose to hand over control when they were confident about the outcome, here they have simply reached the end of what they can usefully contribute. Now that they have no option but to let events take their course.
So as the UK troops leave Camp Bastion, they will not be coming back with a victory to be celebrated in Trafalgar Square. Nor, however, have the results of their efforts been dishonourable or a national humiliation. They have done a good job in support of an imperfect strategy, the success of which they can no longer influence.
They coped; now we hope.
THE GUARDIAN
