Our daughter recognised how both war and reconstruction had entrenched corruption in Afghanistan. And it won't just disappear along with western troops
In 2010 our daughter Linda, an aid worker, was abducted in eastern Afghanistan. She subsequently died during a rescue attempt by US special forces, killed by a US grenade. We refused to apportion blame to either the Taliban or the soldiers, preferring to start a charitable foundation to help women and children affected by the war.
Last week we travelled to Kabul and Jalalabad to meet Linda's friends and our Afghan-based volunteers. We visited the children's medical house where families from rural areas are accommodated while their kids undergo operations. We saw the fantastic Afghan Children's Circus – it was great to see kids singing and dancing so carefree, escaping from battle-scarred neighbourhoods where razor wire tops every wall. We also visited a refuge where women on the run from murderous families, acid attack victims and others can receive respite and care.
Afghans told us their main concerns are the corruption, day-to-day personal safety and protecting the fragile stability they currently have. Over here we tend to think of corrupt societies as morally bankrupt. But try considering the issue from an Afghan perspective. Morality is not only absolute, as in "it's wrong to torture babies", but also social.
Some of us are more ethical than others, but we all fudge our morality; would you shop someone you knew was taking cash payments and not declaring them for income tax? Most of us follow social norms.
Now look at the position of an Afghan family man. He has a large family, typically six children, with strong obligations towards his relations. His family honour is vitally important to him. If he runs out of money his family starve, and he can see others starving around him. Springing up all around him are ostentatious houses, funded from corruption and drug trading. Peace is an abstract concept he has never experienced and can't reasonably expect in his foreseeable future. Corruption within the justice system means rich people are not detained, poor people remain in prison, and the whole system becomes another tax on the dispossessed.
In this situation, where corruption is endemic, would you take bribes like everyone about you and stash them away for when the spending stops? Would you let yourself be strongly associated with the west, knowing how this would affect your chances when the west leaves?
Or would you hedge your bets and show nominal support for the Taliban – who are perceived to offer a more moral age, with security and an effective justice system – even if you don't subscribe to their views? This might be a morality test for the Guardian reader; for an Afghan it's a life-and-death decision.
Until you see it, it's difficult to appreciate the scale of the military operation in this country. In 2011 the cost of the war was $103bn and aid $15.7bn. This equates to around $20,000 per Afghan family per year in US spending alone. By contrast a teacher heading up this notional Afghan family might receive $20 a week, if he gets his pay at all. This imbalance inevitably exacerbates corruption.
Huge amounts of western money have been poured into Afghanistan, sometimes naively, often ineffectively. The system is frequently bureaucratic and managed by westerners, typically earning around $150,000 a year, tax free, and often locked up in secured compounds, relying on reports from Afghan employees. Can you imagine a system better designed to increase graft? How can this system align with the hopes and desires of the rural Afghan? He's perfectly capable of seeing who's benefiting most.
But we did come across dedicated individuals who live closer to the people, care deeply for them, and are prepared to take risks for their beliefs. These are the kind of people and projects we are trying to support. Small schemes, low overheads, visible results.
Our daughter believed in Afghans. Following her abduction we contacted an experienced Afghan hand to ask: "Was she maybe a little too trusting and willing to take risks? We'll never know whether she was being brave or foolhardy."
Her response: "The salaries and prestige of working [for reconstruction organisations] attract people mostly concerned about a good salary and future. They do not leave their compounds ... And billions of dollars in development money have been wasted here because of people like that just biding time and really making their fortunes. Linda had a deep appreciation for the Afghan people – a special connection – and she was working pretty much against the organisational culture, to make sure the Afghans were cared for."
Afghanistan civil society was scarcely functioning before the west intervened, and clearly ingrained corruption will not disappear overnight when western troops leave. We can only hope that Afghanistan retains sufficient internal security to progress. This is what most Afghans want. Linda's comment to whingeing colleagues was always: "You can leave if you want, Afghans can't."
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