Where Politics are personal, relationships matter

Where Politics are personal, relationships matter --   

Meeting with litigants outside an Afghan provincial court to gauge their reactions after a hearing

An online article on the upcoming turnover of diplomats at the U.S. Embassy in Kabul in Foreign Policy caught my attention this morning.  It talked about the fact that this summer, at a critical juncture in the U.S. relationship with the Afghan government, almost all of our diplomats with Afghan experience will be leaving, replaced by Foreign Service Officers who have little to no experience with the Afghan government.  This is a huge problem, and points to issues that I've been seeing in most post conflict environments -- the absence of continuity among development professionals and the inability of U.S. government officials to actively engage with their host nation counterparts.

Politics are personal everywhere you go, and especially in governments that are organized around tribal, familial, ethnic, and religious affiliations.  In these places, power sharing arrangements are negotiated between individuals based on relationships that are nearly impossible to discern from the outside.  There is a trust (and mistrust) component to every political deal.   As a result, to conduct effective development within the local context, it is essential that outside interveners get in and engage on an equally personal level.  One’s ability to influence the governance system is dependent on one’s ability to build a trust relationship with host nation counterparts.  Only then will they begin to share some of the hidden details of why things work the way they do, and what risks are involved if reform is to occur.  Close collaboration is everything, and if one is to be an effective adviser and development partner, one has to one must have the kind of nuanced understanding that can only be achieved through sustained presence and intelligent empathy. 

Unfortunately, there are several factors that are making this nearly impossible to achieve.  Personnel rotation policies favor quick-in/quick-out in order to mitigate the impact of separation and discomfort for our personnel abroad.  Within the military, deployment rotation cycles move key individuals in and out of a theater of operations in a matter of months, not years.  Within the civilian community, the problem is even worse.  Labor agreements ensure maximum consideration for working conditions, with minimal consideration for operational impact.  Furthermore, in the post-Benghazi environment, our tolerance for security risk is nil.  Embassy personnel are rarely allowed to leave protected compounds or headquarters unless security can be guaranteed.  The result is that we now have islands of diplomatic and development professionals who never see the reality of governance and rule of law in action in the countries that need effective development assistance the most.

I saw this firsthand when I returned to Afghanistan in January to conduct independent research on the future of the Afghan National Police.  I have been working on Afghanistan issues for five years and never before encountered so many key U.S. and international officials who were operating in a complete vacuum of personal experience and observation.  None of the individuals with whom I met had any meaningful contact with Afghan leaders on their “home turf.”  They had never seen an Afghan governing body in action, never seen a court in session, never observed police performance outside that of the customs and immigration officers at the international airport, and never had the opportunity to talk with Afghans who were trying to access justice or other government services.  And yet these were the people who were making policy recommendations, programming decisions, and evaluating resource strategies for development.  It was startling, and even a bit shocking.  The Afghan officials with whom I also met were aware of the problem, and resentful.  After all, they pointed out, they were the ones who suffer the impact of ill-conceived,  ill-informed, and poorly evaluated development.      

I understand the security and personnel concerns.  But the bottom line is that that governance and rule of law development is a participative and collaborative process.  If we say this is an important U.S. strategic objective, then our own bureaucratic decisions must enable relationship building and allow the necessary trust to be established.  Our personnel must accept inconvenience, separation, and assume a certain degree of intelligent risk, and they have to be empowered to do so.  If we’re unwilling or unable to build the relationships necessary to effectively engage in partnered development, then frankly, we might just as well go home.

The Power of Poetry -- Culture and the Rule of Law

Discovering the beautiful legal documents at the National Archives of Afghanistan

The Power of Poetry -- Culture and the Rule of Law: When I was in Afghanistan as the rule of law adviser to the NATO police development mission, I had the opportunity to embed in Afghan police units as their senior commanders crisscrossed the country, inspecting checkpoints and police stations, and meeting with governors and community leaders. These trips were fraught with danger and discomfort. Being an American civilian woman embedded in an Afghan formation was not exactly normal, even for Afghanistan, but it was revealing.

I did it because in order to connect policing to governance, we had to understand what that relationship looked like: not to us, but to the Afghans.

What was surprising to me was how important history and culture were to the Afghan vision of the role of a modern police force. Hardened veterans of brutal wars and semi-literate in most cases, these were not men I thought would be concerned with the fine arts. But I was wrong. Their generals took great risks in order to introduce young police officers to historic sites, illuminated manuscripts, music, and the lore of the Silk Road. The Minister of Interior spent almost an hour inspecting rose gardens with me at a training center near Herat, asking my opinion of the landscaping and personally directing the planting of a particular flowering vine. The generals told me that it was important for their future leaders to understand the land and its people – they could not fairly enforce the law if they did not understand its cultural context and the values that lay behind it.  These were especially reflected, they explained, in their poetry, and in private conversations amongst themselves, they quoted both modern and ancient Persian poets, a lot.

Three years later, while in Kabul this past January, I had the privilege of visiting the National Archives of Afghanistan. The beauty of the miniature paintings depicting Persian fairy tales, illuminated texts, and gorgeous legal documents left me amazed and mystified. I had always been told by my rule of law development colleagues that the Afghans had no national legal tradition – that their law was all derived from the Holy Koran, and there was little else to build upon. But there in the archives and open to visitors, was evidence not only of 200 years of written law, but treasured, valued, embellished, poetic law. It was law as art and culture, just as the culture was embedded in the meaning behind it. The Afghans valued it. That was clear. But I and most of my colleagues had apparently missed that point.

So it was with great interest that I read about “I am the Beggar of the World: Landays from Contemporary Afghanistan.” This recently-published book contains the poetry of approximately 20 Afghan Pashtun women and promises to be a revelation. We in the international community have spent a lot of time talking about the legal status of women in Afghanistan and we've certainly spent a lot of time and resources talking TO them. But as a rule, we haven’t been reading their poems. We haven’t been looking at the way they perceive their own experience, as expressed in their art and culture. Now we can. We probably should have been doing so all along. http://www.amazon.com/Am-Beggar-World-Contemporary-Afghanistan/dp/0374191875?tag=vglnkc4576-20

Kidnapping in Nigeria and #bringbackourgirls – Are we missing the point? (Part 3)

Kidnapping in Nigeria and #bringbackourgirls – Are we missing the point? (Part 3):  

Now more than a month after the kidnapping, the crisis continues and so does the debate over the Nigerian response. Having conducted a “security summit” this weekend, western powers, Nigeria, and its neighbors are coordinating an intelligence-led, military response, and appear to be on the verge of declaring Boko Haram as an international terrorist organization. The Nigerian President has declared that the entire incident was an "al Qaeda-led operation.”

Is all this cooperation and attention a bad thing? No . . . unless it continues to divert attention from the underlying problem that empowers groups like Boko Haram – governance, or in this case, the lack thereof and Nigerian inability to enforce the rule of law.

The fact is that regardless how good the military is, when a country suffers from unabated crime, corruption, inequality, and governmental ineptitude, just to name a few of Nigeria’s shortcomings, then escalating insecurity will persist. This is not a problem with a military solution. Nigeria has credible military forces that are reasonably well trained and equipped (for the region) with a decent reputation as peacekeepers – outside of Nigeria. Within their own country, however, both the army and the police are routinely accused of major human rights violations; they are poorly and corruptly managed; and they are unresponsive to the security needs of the population. In sum, they are inadequately governed. No wonder they can’t mount a credible response.

But governance, to include security sector governance, can be improved if there is political will and a focused, comprehensive approach backed by internal and external oversight and robust public engagement. This kind of approach is difficult, complex, and long term, so unfortunately, it is not the direction in which things are going. Instead, the dialogue is defaulting to what we know and what we’re comfortable with –declaring war on Boko Haram and formulating a rapid military train, advise, and assist response. It won’t address the governance gap in the north; it won’t address the government’s disconnection with its own people; it won’t strengthen the Nigerians’ ability to criminalize the insurgency and enforce the law; and it doesn’t improve governance and accountability of Nigerian security forces. But it generates a lot of action, and that’s apparently going to have to be enough.