GRAEME SMITH
From Saturday's Globe and Mail
TIRIN KOT, AFGHANISTAN At the age of 23, Nisar Ahmad has seen a lot of fighting. His gang of Barakzai tribesmen was the first militia to reach Kandahar behind a wave of U.S. bombs in 2001, grabbing power in the city as the Taliban fled. The same Barakzai warriors chased the Taliban north into the mountains of Uruzgan province, and spent the past five years hunting around these craggy peaks and rolling valleys alongside U.S. special forces.
Four months ago, the hunt ended. The Dutch military took command of Uruzgan, and immediately told Mr. Ahmad's men to stop their raids and ambushes. His militia of 250 battle-hardened fighters was given a new assignment: guard duty.
On a recent afternoon, Mr. Ahmad watched his men play soccer in the confines of a Dutch military base known as Kamp Holland, and he seemed pleased with his new, quiet life.
In the last four months, this province is safer, he said. I'll tell you why. When you treat people badly, it comes back at you. When you treat people well, he said, gesturing at the quiet provincial capital of Tirin Kot, slumbering in the valley below the Dutch base, this is the result.
The Dutch went into Uruzgan expecting the same kind of bloody welcome that Canadians have found in Kandahar. Both provinces are considered volatile strongholds of the Taliban insurgency. Special forces operating in Uruzgan encountered daily attacks this summer. So the 1,400 Dutch troops that began arriving in early August came prepared for battle.
But the bloodbath never happened. This past week, the first four-month rotation of Dutch troops started to leave Uruzgan after having completed 400 patrols, established two forward bases and started the slow work of building roads, bridges, schools, and clinics all without a single soldier killed in action, and just two injuries from hostile forces.
There have been just seven ambushes and 18 roadside bombs in four months; Canadian troops have suffered worse in a single week.
The success is fragile, Dutch commanders caution, and might be partly the result of luck, insurgents focusing on battles elsewhere or the cautious pace of their arrival. But the early results in Uruzgan also suggest that something these commanders call the Dutch philosophy is worth a hard look. It's a strategy focused on supporting the local government rather than killing its supposed enemies, talking with the Taliban instead of fighting them, and treading carefully with an understanding of how little any foreigner knows about this untamed country.
Since NATO inherited control from the Americans, the Dutch have been trying to rein in the U.S. Special Forces that still operate two camps in northern Uruzgan, and they've restrained their own troops from any major offensives.
If there's a good reason to kick ass, fine, said Lieutenant-Colonel Nico Tak, 43, the Provincial Reconstruction Team commander. Do you know whose ass you're going to kick? What are you basing that on? A telephone call? Human intelligence?
In the first months after the Canadians' arrival in Kandahar, commanders sent convoys to the furthest corners of the province. These wide-ranging trips were described as a way of asserting the Canadians' presence, and sometimes resulted in gun battles.
By contrast, the Dutch have moved with extreme caution. Only about 15 kilometres north of Kamp Holland lies the entrance to the Balochi Valley, the scene of many battles between insurgents and pro-government forces, and a zone where foreign troops expected to sustain regular attacks. Rather than pushing in, the Dutch sent a delegation to a village near the mouth of the valley and asked whether they're willing to negotiate.
The elders seemed frightened but willing, so Lieutenant-Colonel Piet Van der Sar, the battle group commander, flew in by helicopter for a meeting. We spread a rumour up the valley, that we're trying to come in without fighting, he said.
The tactic worked, he said. Listening to the radio frequencies often used by insurgents, the Dutch interpreters heard locals discussing the new type of foreigner that was replacing the U.S. troops. They said, Those Dutch aren't here to fight, they're here to talk,' Lt.-Col. Van der Sar said.
The talks include not only village elders, but also the Taliban themselves. It's a subject the Dutch are reluctant to discuss in detail, as the idea of negotiating with terrorists remains a subject of debate among NATO allies. In a PowerPoint briefing for a visiting reporter, Lt.-Col. Tak moved quickly past a slide titled Talking to the Dark Side.
Lt.-Col. Tak said that while nobody under his command talks directly with the insurgents, he works closely with the provincial governor who does make contact with the Taliban.
Talking to the Taliban is essential, Lt.-Col. Tak said.
Perhaps 98 per cent of the insurgents in Uruzgan are people originally from this province, the commander said. The number of hardcore Taliban is often exaggerated, he added: Arabs, Pakistanis and even Chechens are fighting against the government, he said, but they're a tiny minority compared with those Taliban members who joined the movement simply because it was the most powerful faction in the mid-1990s.
If you indicate that you're willing to talk with them, it's surprising what you get, he said.
What do you get? he was asked.
A response, sometimes, Lt.-Col. Tak said. But you have to indicate and this takes months you have to show in everything that you do and say, that you are genuinely trying to understand their conflict.
The Dutch commanders seem well schooled in the complexities of Afghanistan, easily discussing the mujahedeen factions, schools of Islam and sub-tribal clans that dominate the political landscape.
I'm in the business of killing people and breaking things. But I can use my brain. Lt.-Col. Tak said.
Many of the differences in the Dutch approach are subtle, the commanders say. The Canadians and Americans establish forward operating bases (FOBs) in unstable areas, often building them into fortresses of giant sandbags and razor wire, and using them as a launching point for operations. The Dutch prefer to build mud-walled compounds they call multi-functional qalas, using the Pashto name for house, designed with a traditional-style guest room for visitors.
The soldiers living in these qalas are expected to visit every household in their own area, measuring 12 to 30 square kilometres, and monitor their needs.
Besides helping the local residents with the basics of survival, the Dutch are trying to serve as honest brokers for villagers whose relatives were captured by coalition forces. If a suspected Taliban fighter is arrested by U.S. soldiers, Dutch commanders will try to find basic information about the detainee, to ease his family's worry.
Dutch forces also say they're trying to protect villagers from the predations of corrupt or undisciplined Afghan soldiers and police, by watching them closely for bad behaviour and keeping them off the front lines. Even in convoys, they said, Afghan National Army units have been moved from the front of the column into the safer middle.
You have to teach them [Afghan forces] not to be a pain in the ass for the population, Lt.-Col. Van der Sar said. |
