DISPATCHES FROM AFGHANISTAN
BY JA K E K LONOSKI
ABDULLAH RALLY
Election Time in Kabul
EACH VOTE REPUDIATES THE TALIBAN
D
uring the rainy spring in Kabul it is
painfully simple to turn eyes skyward
and, ignoring the all-seeing aerostat
balloon, to imagine being home.
Though the wet weather forced Kabul’s
children to reel in the famous kites that compete with
the military blimps for the sky, it exposed another city
wonder.
Like the paper kites that fl oat above the city,
swooping black kites — sharp-taloned raptors that
soars on thermal winds throughout Afghanistan —
appeared ethereal as they silently fl ocked by the
hundreds, stacked layer upon layer into the heavens,
to escape the incoming storms. Ancients credited
such kites with resurrection of the dead. As with so
much here, the scene inspires awe while still sparking
trepidation.
After gathering, black kites migrate out of
Afghanistan with the changing season. As the national
election season has unfolded, many capable of it have
migrated as well. My favorite carpet dealer took his
father to the doctor in Pakistan; businessmen found
work calling in Dubai; and American diplomats and
service members arranged for leave in the U.S.
As a measure of confi dence, the migration does
not bode well. A more worrying sign is Afghanistan’s
2013 net migration rate, a brain drain, of nearly two
departures for every 1,000 citizens.
With Taliban-promised violence aiming at
preventing a legitimate national election — the
beginning of the fi rst peaceful, democratic transfer
of power in Afghan history — it is diffi cult to fault
anyone who discovered urgent business elsewhere.
But those who left missed the culmination of more
than a decade of work, struggle and sacrifi ce.
A trip past a Kabul voting registration center in
recent weeks witnessed lines of turbaned men, burqa-
wearing women and many young people (two-thirds
of Afghans are under 25) stretching down the street.
Rumors of roaming gunmen were ignored to secure a
say in the nation’s future. In this city, where the Taliban
recently attacked hotels, government ministries and
election centers, it was an uplifting display of courage
and normality.
A week ago, while traveling in the northern city
of Mazar-e Sharif, our vehicle took a wrong turn and
merged with a fl owing tributary of ecstatic citizenry.
We found ourselves trapped by families on donkeys
and men posing on horseback, amid groups parading
with signs and electoral fl ags and among buses
carrying Afghan elders pressing bearded, wrinkled
faces against the windows. They were all headed to a
vast rally for Abdullah Abdullah, a leading presidential
candidate. The crowd’s fl ow pushed us into a larger
torrent of campaign enthusiasts, all jubilantly honking,
clapping and singing as they marched.
The situation represented a security nightmare, as
the sweat staining our body armor attested.
At the same time, the exultant waves, thumbs up
and raised index fi ngers for the #1 ballot position of the
Abdullah ticket — a civic passion that accompanied
our armored vehicle for over a mile — offered
tremendous comfort that time here — and friends who
will never return home — sacrifi ced for something
truly worthwhile.
A screeching turn down an alley, away from the
crowds, prevented our witnessing the rally itself, or the
riotous buzkashi game (the perfect analogy for electoral
politics) afterwards. Abdullah’s speech, I read later,
could barely be heard over the crowd’s enthusiasm
and no violence marred the event. A few days later
Ashraf Ghani, another front-runner candidate, held a
competing rally in the same city, also without incident.
Americans did not come to Afghanistan to build a
Jeffersonian democracy, though I remember that chest-
thumping rhetoric. We do not leave one behind as we
depart. After all, the original Jeffersonian democracy
excluded all women from public life, codifi ed human
enslavement, excluded many non-property holders
from the franchise and spread westward with a policy
of genocide. Reality rarely compares well against an
ideal.
Even now our imperfect democracy casts aside
legal protections for minority voters, restricts the ease
of registering to vote and erects hurdles to casting
ballots. We struggle with the role of wealth in our
system.
By comparison, the Afghan vice-presidential
candidates include a female governor as well as
warlords, tickets are ethnically balanced to prevent
strife, and though violence prevented some voting,
Afghans turned out in the millions, many encouraged
by “Get Out The Vote” rap lyrics (wkly.ws/1q2)
fi nanced by the government. Campaign money is
handled with duffl e bags.
This is without doubt an Afghan, not a Jeffersonian,
democracy. Imperfect, but with popular support.
Afghans cast seven million votes, almost twice
2009, despite 146 incidents of Election Day violence
compared to over 500 last election.
There are challenges ahead. Kipling’s Central
Asian “Great Game” over resources and geopolitics
continues to victimize average Afghans and enrich
an elite few. Kabul’s wealth eclipses dire poverty in
the countryside. Discrimination against women and
minorities is pervasive. Foreign soldiers and foreign
aid determine much of the country’s fate.
But the miracle of this nation’s transformation,
from Taliban thugs executing women in a packed
Kabul soccer stadium to Election Day, cannot be
overemphasized. Nor can the bravery of the Afghan
people — each vote cast represented a repudiation of
the Taliban.
The electoral results remain uncertain. It is possible
the Taliban or losing candidates will plunge the nation
into civil war. Friends who served in Iraq’s al-Anbar
Province know that inked fi ngers can turn into black
al Qaeda-associated banners, especially when the
watered-down ink of electoral fraud is common.
I choose to remember the words of an Afghan
friend, spoken over chai while negotiating for a carpet.
“You Americans have given us another chance, and no
matter what we do with it, you should know that you
have our thanks.”
Historians and politicians will long debate events
in Afghanistan; the American public may tire of the
discussion. But those who have served struggle to fi nd
meaning in duty here, in what we’ve done and what
we’ve failed to do. I hope these days will defi ne my
years in Afghanistan and lead to the conclusion that
they made sense, that it was all justifi able.
In reality, black kites cannot bring back those lost
but what has been given up has given life to a new
course for the nation.
Jake Klonoski is from Eugene and has been a U.S. Navy submarine offi cer
since 2002, serving in Italy, Bahrain, Japan, Kosovo, Afghanistan and
plenty of time at sea. He left active duty in 2010 and was mobilized after
graduating Stanford Law School in June 2013 for service in Kabul assist-
ing in economic development and stability operations.
eugeneweekly.com • A pril 10, 2014
7