Afghanistan: A Frank Conversation About American Might, Competence, and a Dated Self Image

When we think about America as a peace keeping and “hero” military force, I don’t know about you, but I traditionally think of hundreds of green-clad G.I.s storming the concentration camps of World War II and freeing Europe from oppression. I think of the grizzled ‘Devil Dogs’ of World War I, a fighting force that broke the trench lines and shattered Axis resistance in a matter of months. I think about George Washington heroically crossing the Delaware, leading the charge towards independence.

Now, more than ever, it is worth examining these images, and more broadly our general self image, and hold it up to a degree of scrutiny. History is written by the victor, so the adage goes, and for quite some time, the United States has benefited from having a steely grip on the pen of history. Events in the last week, and truly over the last few years, are beginning to challenge that grip, and a more frank self-examination feels in order.

I should be clear about a few things before delving into this. Comments made below that are critical of the United States military are strictly aimed at military and governmental leadership. The men and women who regularly sacrifice their time, their bodies, and their lives as a member of our Armed Forces are, in the context of this piece, excluded from my criticism. I regularly criticize Chrysler for its failures as an auto giant: that does not mean I have anything to criticize about the people on their factory floors who assembled their cars. Not exactly an apples to apples comparison, but hopefully the analogy is clear.

So what does our historical notion of what heroic America looks like have to do with Afghanistan? And, in a broader context, what does it have to do with our understand of the United States’ history and culture as a whole? Quite a lot. Let’s start with some historical examples, though, and use these as a backdrop for modern conflicts.

The American Revolution. The battle for independence from tyrannical British rule. One of the first stories of patriotism learned by any school child. Wherein a scrappy, upstart band of ragtag militiamen overthrew the greatest empire in the annals of history through guerrilla warfare, brilliant tactical deployment, and good ol’ fashioned, apple-pie fed American muscle, right?

Well, partially. Americans involving warfare styles they learned from their conflicts with Native peoples (an entirely other line of conversation that needs to be addressed), combined with a few decisive victories and a strong will to succeed definitely helped the matter of eventual victory. In fact, in all likelihood, the United States probably would have eventually repelled the British forces through sheer attrition alone. Most warfare experts agree that when combatting an insurgent force, most countries lose political goodwill after only a 10% loss in fighting forces, and a recognizable investment of treasure. (Any of this sounding at all familiar yet…?). However, it almost certainly would have taken years and years longer than the actual revolution played out.

So what was the swing factor? How did America so quickly topple the mighty British Empire? France. You forgot, didn’t you? Yes, the oft maligned French military swooped in to save the burgeoning U.S. from near defeat, when they saw an opportunity to strike a blow at their major rival on the world stage. It was, in effect, a proxy battle between France and Britain, and France saw significant potential in the ‘new world’ to expand their own territories and seize on economic opportunities. They just needed England out of the way first.

France backs the United States. Britain, engaged in a distant, insurgent land battle on one front, and the further of encroachment of Spain on territorial waters on the other, begins to lose resolve. They face several tactical defeats and stalemates, and are forced to withdraw. The United States gains its independence. …Thanks in no small part to the direct intervention of both France and Spain. Not, as we often let ourselves believe, on the back of our own fighting spirit.

Shorter example. America’s role in World War II. The heroes, right? The ones who came in and put an end to Adolf Hitler’s nightmare reign of terror and freed Europe from his clutches. Again, partially true. But it largely ignores how late in the war we entered. And further leaves out the important context that we never had to fight a defensive war, thanks in large part to the geographic isolation provided by the Atlantic Ocean. We dropped our forces in late in the day, well protected as a country on the other side of the sea. This would be the chess equivalent to starting a game with your attacking pieces already past rank 5, with your pawns circled around your king to protect him.

Disclaimer. This ignores the Pacific theater and the fact that we very legitimately were attacked on our western most front at Pearl Harbor. But for some reason, the Pacific theater doesn’t factor into people’s popular imaging of World War II…

Even World War I saw a late American entrance. We did not join the fighting until 1917, fully three years into the war. Our intervention is often lauded as what brought the war to an end, which definitely has an aspect of truth to it. But we were fighting against a foe already exhausted by three years of intense, barbaric, debilitating combat.

I realize the first half of this largely seems like a repudiation on the honor and fighting ability of the United States on the world stage. It is not meant to be. America has been the victor in a number of conflicts that helped determine not just the course of the country towards liberal democracy, but in many cases helped parts of the world find that same route. It is one that I personally am proud of, benefit from, and believe is an excellent beginning framework for a system of government.

What I want to make clear, however, is, and you’re probably sick of reading this word already, the context in which we have tended to be victors. America has often functioned more as a trump card, than as the full house. Especially in the wars patriots tend to hold up as the most impactful on national image, and use to spotlight our absolute unwavering might.

The American Revolution. Won thanks to the help of two super powers on the world stage and an attrition strategy against the occupying force. (I’m telling you, that one is really gonna be relevant soon). World War I. America’s fresh fighting forces enter a weary, war torn Europe, and with an infusion of fresh energy, fighting spirit and technology, break the lines- but again, after the countries had been fighting each other for years and worn one another out. World War II. Another late American entrance on the world stage, and one that without question made all the difference in swinging the war toward democratic victory- but after Hitler’s armies were divided against Europe on one front and Russia on the other.

By the way, it was the Soviets who liberated Auschwitz. I’m not shilling for Russia by any means- but that one does belong to them.

Alright. So what does any of this contentious (in the paradigm of American patriotism) view of the U.S.’s historical wartime efforts have to do with current events? I would argue quite a lot.

National pride and patriotism are a hallmark of American culture. Ask anyone from overseas what is most striking about the United States, and one thing they will bring up is the number of flags we have. They’re everywhere. And national pride is something that is deep seeded in our history lessons. It informs our popular reckoning of who America is, what we do, and what we stand for. So much so, that we believe ourselves to be an institution that exports democracy to all corners of the world and defends it with red, white and blue know-how.

Except that isn’t a fully accurate portrayal of who we are, or what we do. Our military victories over the years, in particular, have always been, maybe not eleventh hour but certainly late in the day intervention in already ragged conflicts. We’ve received immense aid from other national super powers- largely winning some of our wars thanks entirely to that aid. Our record in solitary military engagements: that’s more spotty.

All of this is laid bare in the conflict in Afghanistan. America has been involved in this war for twenty years and spent more than twenty trillion dollars on it. And our nearly disastrous exit has made it clear there never was a victory situation within our reach. For the country to fall so quickly as we left is vindication that staying longer was not an option. If after twenty years and two trillion dollars we were not able to effectively nation build and equip the security forces there, how much longer would it have taken? How much more money would it have cost?

Why, though? What happened? I would argue a large part (ignoring massive failures in intelligence, strategy, and understanding of regional conflicts and cultures) has to do with our national pride and self image. We see ourselves as the mightiest fighting force in the world that has never been defeated and has secured democracy across the globe.

But we’re the ones who have been writing the history books.

A closer examination, as we’ve seen, shows America to be an integral part in the military victories of the past several hundred years, but not the lone strength. Since, however, we have managed to convince ourselves otherwise, we have embarked on a number of aggression wars that have found us underwater in conflicts where we shouldered a heavier burden of the fighting. Korea is an example. Vietnam, famously.

And now Afghanistan.

I want to pause here a moment and be clear about something. I support liberal democracy. As I stated previously, I think it is an important baseline for progressive governments that incorporate the will of the people and advance more accepting and open cultures. It’s not perfect, but it can be made more perfect with each iteration. Further, again I would like to reiterate my support for the fighting men and women of our armed forces. We in large part owe them an immense debt of gratitude.

None of this, however, absolves American leadership of its hubris. Our stated purpose in invading Afghanistan in 2001 was to hunt and capture the terrorist leader Osama Bin Laden. We accomplished that. And then we way overstayed our welcome to try and nation build and export our particular brand of democracy. And in the process, we began to understand the failings not only of unilateral action like this, but also perhaps our own failings in general.

American forces were unable to secure the road to the Kabul International Airport in the late stages of the Afghanistan conflict. Taliban forces did not just appear to start taking over cities during our final draw down: they had been gaining territory for years in the lead up. We were winning individual battles, but the tide overall had long turned against us. Our troops were across the ocean, far from home, in a land against an insurgent force that had neither the benefit of numbers or technology, but did have ideology and were battling a weary enemy.

Sound at all familiar?

There are a lot of arguments to be made about the efficacy of our efforts, and especially the nature of our final departure. Credit where it is due, the peace treaty that allowed us to leave without a hail of gunfire chasing us was brokered by former President Donald Trump, and the political resolve to actually execute on it was brought by current (at the time of this writing) President Joe Biden. But the chaos and the abject failures of the situation belong to both sides of the political aisle (since we seem determined to assign blame somewhere).

Four administrations have been involved in this conflict. During that time, they have either lied to the American people, or passed on lies told to them about the reality of the situation in Afghanistan. The sheer might of the United States and the glory of its democratic institutions were not enough to ram through democracy on another nation and beat back its ideological, fundamentalist insurgency.

And maybe… it never has been.

It’s a hard truth to come to terms with. But when we are honest with ourselves about our role in international conflict and in military victories over the past several decades and centuries, we often like to romanticize ourselves as the lone heroes. The only ones who could have gotten in there and do what needed to be done. The guy in the room who walked softest but carried the biggest stick.

In truth though, we’ve always had help. Or we’ve always picked a strategic moment to engage when our enemies were already spread thin or worn out. Afghanistan was neither of these situations. We were the first in, and we did not have significant foreign aid. We leaned solely on our ideals and forgot to take into account the ideals of the people of that country. We tried to muscle our way through by being big and scary and advanced… but we never really had a clear endgame or grasp on the situation. And in the end, we were spread thin. We were tired. Attrition had beaten us.

I recently wrote an article about what the promise of America is, versus what it has delivered on so far. In many ways, I think we need to start thinking of our national heroism identity in the same way. I believe the United States is capable of great acts of international aid and heroism, and I know that in the past it has come to the rescue of other nations in their darkest hour.

But we need to be honest with ourselves. We need to take a good hard look at not just recent history, but history history. There has to be a reckoning with what our capabilities actually are, and an understanding of the context under which we have been victorious. Otherwise, we are absolutely doomed to repeat something like Afghanistan. We will go into another country looking to spread good will and democracy, and instead end up in a quagmire that leads to its overrunning by internal insurgency.

Leaving behind millions of shattered dreams, ideas and lives.

That can’t be the legacy of American heroism. We can be better than that. But first, we need to take a good hard look in the mirror and understand ourselves better. Once we’ve recognized that we aren’t nearly the Superman we’ve grown to think of ourselves as, we can make an important decision. How do we become that hero?