Russia’s
Ominous Afghan Gambit
The Wall Street
Journal Europe
Tuesday, 11 December 2001,
S. Frederick Starr
Chairman, Central Asia Institute, Johns Hopkins University
Russia’s positive
new attitude towards the US and NATO may end a rivalry that dominated world
affairs for much of the last century. But
under the new dispensation how will Putin’s Russia conduct itself in other
parts of the world? Judging by
recent events in Afghanistan, there is good reason for concern.
The turn of events
that culminated in the mutual inspection of souls in Crawford, Texas, began on
September 11 with Putin’s warmly received words of sympathy and his
expression of support for a war on terrorism.
Less well known is the fact that he then spent the next three days on
the phone, cajoling the presidents of the five newly independent states of
Central Asia not to cooperate with American requests to use their
territory for strikes against Afghanistan. His foreign minister backed him
publicly by declaring that even hypothetical talk of American forces in
Central Asia was out of the question.
All five of the
Central Asian presidents thought otherwise, however, and boldly told Putin so.
President Karimov of Uzbekistan held a press conference to say that
when its national security was at stake, Uzbekistan did not have to consult
with anyone. Putin then deftly
executed a 180 degrees and announced to the world that, through his tireless
efforts, he had succeeded in persuading the Central Asian states to cooperate
with America.
This went down well
in Washington but not with Putin’s own ministries of foreign affairs and
defense, nor the FSB. All had
worked tirelessly since the Red Army’s humiliating defeat in 1989 to
reassert Russia into Afghan affairs. For
nearly a decade they had provided support to their Afghan clients, Mullah
Burhanuddin Rabbani’s Northern Alliance.
Notwithstanding Russian and Iranian support, the Alliance was all but
dead by September 10. Now they
saw an opportunity, which Putin’s high-wire act had nearly destroyed.
They were doubly outraged, first by Putin’s failure to impose his
will on the Central Asian presidents and, second, with the resulting expansion
of US military ties with Central Asia.
At a session held in
the Tajik capital of Dushanbe during the American bombing of Afghanistan’s North, Putin’s top ministers and the
head of the FSB laid out an aggressive plan to preempt America’s growing
role in Afghanistan. The head of
the General Staff, General
Anatoli Khvashnin, had engineered the Russian army’s foolish and dangerous
1999 rush on the airport at Pristina in Kosovo. In Dushanbe he proposed a
similar tactic for Kabul, using the Northern Alliance troops as a Trojan
horse. Brushing aside warnings by
both the US President and Secretary of State, the conferees authorized the
Alliance to charge headlong and seize Kabul and other northern centers.
Following the meeting Putin told the press that Russia’s loyal
client, Mullah Rabbani, should become president of all Afghanistan.
So much for the Afghans’ themselves deciding such things.
What failed in
Pristina succeeded in Kabul. Not
wanting to upset the spirit of Crawford, Secretary Rumsfeld meekly announced
that the Northern Alliance’s sweep was really a good thing after all. Caught
off balance, Secretary Powell declared that Kabul would be open to all Afghans
and pleaded with the Northern Alliance not to send in its 2000 police force
since an international force would be arriving soon.
The Alliance ignored America’s request, sent in its forces, told the
British troops to go home, and then received twelve transport planes full of
Russian troops from the Ministry of Emergency Situations, masquerading as a
medical unit.
Over the next weeks
the Northern Alliance, with Putin’s support, began staffing their own
“power ministries” (internal affairs, foreign affairs, and security),
naming governors, and even offering jobs in their new government to
Taliban defectors. To none of
this did the US administration raise the slightest public objection.
If there were private objections they were simply dismissed.
At Bonn the ambitious
Alliance ministers, eager to keep their posts, joined Pashtun negotiators in
scuttling the presidential ambitions of their boss, Rabbani.
Had he stayed it would have meant that they would have had to turn over
their own portfolios to the Pashtuns, which they were not about to do.
Initially demanding 20 ministries, the Northern Alliance ended up with
fifteen, including they key ones they already held.
They beat back King Zahir Shah’s candidate for president, a highly
regarded Uzbek with a national reputation, Dr. Sirat, and welcomed instead
Hamid Karzai, a genial but so far ineffectual warlord with neither an all-Pashtun
nor a national leadership profile. Finally,
they neutralized the UN’s demands for an international security force, which
ended up in the role of “assisting” the Northern Alliance’s security
troops that were already in place.
Now, all this may
still turn out well, since the interim administration’s writ is supposed to
last only six months. A Loya
Jirga, if it is held, is bound to produce a more balanced government than what
was created by the Northern Alliance’s virtual coup.
But what exists now is dangerously unbalanced in favor of the same men
whose misrule between 1992 and 1996 destroyed Kabul and created the conditions
in which even the Taliban looked like a good alternative.
Thankfully, the
Pashtun population for the time being is preoccupied with sorting out the
post-Taliban situation in the South. Perhaps
it will be temporarily mollified by assurances that the Loya Jirga will
produce a more balanced outcome, and by promises of development assistance
flowing their way. Sheer
exhaustion may also help prevent a blowup.
This, at least, is what American officials are hoping for.
But this may be
wishful thinking. If western
leaders seem unconcerned, many Russian observers see Putin’s moves with the
Northern Alliance as a dangerous manifestation of neo-Soviet chauvinism.
The influential Moscow daily Kommersant warned that the Kremlin
has already sent armed troops to Afghanistan.
Some Russian critics have drawn comparisons with Stalin’s activities
in Berlin in the closing days of World War II.
Another [Ural Sharipov of the Institute of Oriental Studies, Moscow],
writing in Nezavisimaia gazeta, has cautioned that any government
without strong Pashtun representation will never succeed in Kabul.
What does all this
mean for US-Russian friendship, and for hopes of a breakthrough in NATO’s
relations with Russia? First, it
indicates that the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, FSB, and the Russian army,
still largely unreconstructed from Soviet times, share none of the current
euphoria over Russian-western comity. They
are still prepared to engage in the kind of irresponsible scheming that gave
them a black eye at Pristina and nearly led to open conflict.
Second, it reveals that when push comes to shove, Putin is not yet
inclined to stand up to his own subordinates.
Instead, he seems to have struck a deal, in which his views prevail
with respect to Europe and their views hold sway in Afghanistan and perhaps
elsewhere. Finally, in light of Putin’s own actions between September
12 and 14 and in light of the fact that he has publicly endorsed every
subsequent step in this drama, one must question where Putin himself really
stands.