there is no goat

by Jennifer Dunham

  After the discovery of the three HIV-positive guards, my teammates and I began to talk to other guards about the disease. When each guard came in for their bi-annual interview, we would dedicate some time to the topic of HIV and unprotected sex. My (male) interpreter was initially horrified that I wanted to broach these topics with Afghan men. He felt it was way out of line and crossed the strict lines of Pashtun customs. But, I insisted and explained it was for their own health and longevity to understand the ramifications of the disease. My interpreter eventually relented, but still was not pleased with the conversation topic.

  I spoke with several dozen Afghan guards about HIV. Not one of them knew what the disease was, or how it was contracted. I was very frank with them and explained that there were only two primary ways in which the disease was transmitted: (1) IV drug use and (2) unprotected sex. Incidentally, I did not bring up blood transfusions because the concept was extraneous to most Afghans and I knew it was not the cause of HIV transmission in Afghanistan. Most did not understand IV drug use, either, but they all understood what unprotected sex was (after I explained it). A couple of these men actually admitted to me that several of the guards had sex with each other and they seemed to take my sex education speech to heart. On the other hand, many of the men listened to me with great interest, but, in the end, refused to believe my explanations.

  Several of the other guards told me they believed their former co-workers were infected with HIV as a punishment from Allah, for some sin or crime they had committed in their life. They refused to believe that the disease could be prevented or that humans had any control over it. In a word… “Enshallah”, meaning “it is God’s will”. This is a core Muslim principle and how Pashtuns live their lives, believing everything is predetermined and/or out of their control.

  Many people, Americans and Afghans alike, did not understand why the HIV diagnosis precluded these men from working on the base. Some argued against their firing because HIV is not easily passed from one human to another, except through sharing of IV needles, blood transfusions and unprotected sex. The U.S. soldiers did not engage in any of these bodily exchanges with the Afghans. Despite this, I explained to many people that we were in a combat zone, and attacks against the base were a real possibility at any time. If an Afghan guard, infected with HIV, was shot and began to bleed out, I kneow U.S. soldiers would immediately come to his rescue and render first aid. They might not take the time to don the appropriate protective gear, such as gloves and masks. In this scenario, it would be easy for the infected blood to be passed to a healthy U.S. soldier, possibly rendering him HIV-positive. This was a chance we could not take. We lost enough soldiers in the war; there was no need to lose more due to circumstances that could easily be prevented. After my explanation, most Americans understood the reason the infected men were prohibited from working on base. But, most Afghans still did not comprehend and felt it was unfair. They continued to believe the disease was a punishment sent by Allah, not a diagnosis that could be avoided. They refused to believe the disease was transmitted from one human to another and that that transmission was completely preventable. This was just one of many times when I felt I had been transported back to the dark ages. Even years of medical studies and hard proof could not sway the mindset of those who had been subjected to a belief system essentially based on rumors.

  FORMING OPINIONS

  Giving opinions, in general, is not something most Afghans are accustomed to doing. Many I spoke with could not understand what it meant to provide one’s own view on a topic. I suspect that was because no one ever cared to ask their opinion before. For the past several decades, life was dictated to most Afghans, and, therefore, it did not matter what they might have thought. Personal preferences and ideas were concepts unheard of. A large percentage of the men I interviewed could not even conceive how to form their own independent opinion.

  I found that Pashtun-Afghans often used their lack of education as an excuse as to why they are unable to shape an opinion. Numerous men told me they could not give me their opinion because they were uneducated. Some also believed there was a right or wrong answer to opinion questions. I routinely had to re-assure them that this was not the case, and I simply wanted their individual point of view. Truth be told, we did use their answers to questions requiring an opinion to help determine whether the person was pro-government and/or in favor of Coalition Forces or not. For instance, if someone told me Osama bin Laden should be viewed as a martyr, a red flag went up in my mind. A person equating bin Laden with a martyr meant they had respect for him and probably felt he had been a true Muslim warrior. In turn, that person probably was not keen on having U.S. forces in their country and was more susceptible to recruitment by an insurgent group. This vulnerability made the person a possible force protection risk to the base and a less than ideal candidate for a job located within our perimeter.

  I had the “martyr” discussion with many of the men who came to my office for interviews. One interaction, in particular, stuck with me. I asked one of the local Afghan men what he thought the definition of a “martyr” was. He pondered my question for a minute and then replied “A martyr is someone who gets hit by a car.” Obviously, his interpretation of the word was a bit skewed. I believe his version of the definition stemmed from the rash of suicide car bombings across the country. I suspect he may have mistakenly thought those killed in each bombing had been hit by the car accidentally, versus choosing to willingly drive a rolling bomb and blow themselves up.

  In addition to the lack of education being used as an excuse to avoid providing one’s individual opinion, I also frequently witnessed this reason as an excuse for why the person did not know how old they were. In Afghanistan, essentially everyone was born on January 1st,, according to their national identification paperwork, called a “Taskera”. There are no birth certificates or official records of age. If a child is born in a hospital (which many are not), there is no paperwork issued to the parents of the baby. Even the age on their Taskeras is estimated by the administrative clerk who hand writes this document. The clerk simply makes an educated guess about the applicant’s age, based off their appearance. When local nationals told me they had no idea how old they were, they often excused their ignorance by saying, “I do not know my age…I am not educated.” In return, I usually asked “What does your education level have to do with knowing how old you are?” I routinely got a puzzled look in response to this question. Most could not even understand the disconnect there.

  I loved meeting an Afghan who would give me his honest viewpoint, though this occurrence was rare. I often asked the locals if they thought the presence of Coalition Forces had made the local area safer. Ninety-nine percent of the time, they answered yes. Their reasoning generally had to do with the construction of schools, medical clinics and paved roads (Incidentally, none of these directly relate to the security situation). They surely liked our money, if nothing else. Most of the time, I sensed that they were providing the answer(s) they thought I wanted to hear. I suspect many felt the area had become worse, and more dangerous, since the start of the American military presence. That was certainly my impression based off local intelligence reporting. But, few would ever admit this to me. I believe they feared I would hold it against them, or that they might not be allowed to work on the base if they made any negative statements. All I really wanted to hear was their honest viewpoint.

  One man responded to the above question by asking me if I wanted him to tell the truth. I told him “Of course I do.” He stated frankly, “You guys ruined my village.” He went on to explain to me that his village was much more volatile and dangerous since the arrival of the American forces. He continued, explaining that although he and his family were oppressed under The Taliban, there was peace. Though they could not travel freely, wear what they wanted, or go to a non-religious school, there was little threat of harm to them or their families, so long as they followed The Taliban’s rules. During the Taliban regime, local
Afghans could sleep soundly in their beds, with little anxiety. Now, they were dealing with night raids, roadside bombs and shootings on a regular basis. In addition, robberies, assault and thefts had skyrocketed. Insurgents and thieves ran rampant in many villages, doing and taking what they wanted. Many people this man knew had been injured or killed as a direct or indirect result of the American military presence in the area.

  The first national election in Afghanistan, after the fall of The Taliban, was held in 2003, when Hamid Karzai was elected as president. In western countries, when one is asked why they voted for a particular candidate, they usually cite certain policies, beliefs or experiences of the candidate. I often asked the men I interviewed in Afghanistan who they voted for in the 2003 and 2009 presidential elections. A majority voted for Karzai, but few, if any, could provide me any solid reason for their choice. Instead, the most common reason I heard was “He is a Pashtun”. Clearly, tribal loyalty still ruled most decision-making. Occasionally, someone would tell me they voted for Karzai “because he is a good man”. But, they could provide no further information to support their statement. They were unaware of Karzai’s background, experience or political methods. They knew only that he was of the same tribe as themselves and, therefore, he must be a decent candidate.

  The inability to form opinions seemed to go hand-in-hand with widespread ignorance. Rumors and misinformation were quite commonplace throughout the local villages and Afghanistan as a whole. National news stories, as seen on television or heard on the radio, were often highly inaccurate. Newsworthy events were easily skewed in one direction or another, depending on who provided the funding to the news channel or radio station. Televisions were an expensive luxury, rarely found in homes throughout the poor Pashtun areas. Many homes did not even have a radio, so news was spread only by word of mouth, creating the same errors in transmission as the age-old “telephone game”.

  Current affairs was not the only area where ignorance shined. Some men I spoke with could not even tell me basic information about their family, or their own personal history. As pointed out earlier, dates of birth are not recorded in Afghanistan. There is no such thing as a birth certificate, so no one truly knows how old they are. Not knowing one’s exact age was understandable. However, many could not even make logical estimates of theirs, or their family members’, ages. For example, one time a man informed me that “I am 28 years old. My father is 40 and my younger brother is 30.” It took several minutes of explanation before this man realized his statement did not make much sense and was, in fact, impossible. Another man insisted to me that he was 22 years old and his father was 24. Again, it took quite a bit of clarification to help the man understand that his age assessment was incorrect.

  Some men provided a different age for themselves every time they came to my office for an interview, or our base badging office next door, to renew their base identification card. This was not a purposeful attempt to deceive us, but simply a lack of attention to detail. These discrepancies always created problems, especially in the base badging office, because the employees there thought the men were intentionally lying. Many times, my interpreter and I had to tell a man to pick one age and stick to it. But, then we had to remind him to add one year to that age, every year. Sometimes, I would wrap up an interview with a quiz: “Ok, tell me again, how old are you?”…”And, how old are you going to be one year from now?” I am not joking or exaggerating.

  One of my teammates emerged from an interview one day shaking his head. I asked him what happened and he relayed the story. He explained that he was going through the routine steps of making notes of the interviewee’s family members. My teammate asked the man how many children he had. The man replied “I can’t remember. I am not very smart.” At least he was honest! I even encountered men who knew how many children they had, but not recall all of their names.

  Another fellow had me in stitches. When I asked him if he had any children he replied “I don’t know. Maybe...” The response was funny to all of us and I expected the lack-of-education excuse as a reason for his response. He explained himself, though, stating that he thought maybe his wife was currently pregnant, but was not sure. This explanation was at least legitimate and made sense.

  Returning to the issue of intelligence levels amongst Pashtuns, I considered abnormally low natural (versus scholarly) intelligence was the source behind a lot of the ignorance I witnessed. In many cases, it likely was not a lack of formal education that created the aptitude problems. Pashtuns generally will not marry outside of their own tribe as they are critical and suspicious of those from other clans. Therefore, inbreeding is widespread and is, I believe, the main underlying genetic cause of low intelligence levels. It is especially common for a man or woman to marry their first cousin. The do not understand how the mixing of common DNA affects the cognitive abilities of their children. The lack of formal education and health care only exacerbates the problem.

  Once in a while, I got an actual opinion out of someone, even if they, themselves, did not realize they were providing their personal thoughts about a situation. As I pointed out in other areas of this book, I always acquired the names of every interviewee’s immediate male family members. The capture of this information was important for cross-referencing in Coalition-run databases. It is not unusual for Afghan men to marry more than one woman. Knowing this, I always asked the men if their fathers had more than one wife. During one interview, a man informed that indeed his father had married more than one time. He continued, declaring, “My father has three wives, eleven sons and sixteen daughters. He has lost his mind!!” The man carried on, telling me how he would never “own” more than one wife, after witnessing what his father had endured over the years. Apparently, the influx of estrogen in one household is not all that it is cracked up to be.

  Something my team and I were always interested in was the security situation in each village throughout the local area. In every interview, we asked questions about criminal and insurgent activity in the person’s neighborhood. A majority of the time, we received bland, uninformative answers. Most men would tell us everything was fine and there were no problems. We knew this to be false, as we received daily intelligence reports detailing attacks and other security issues throughout the province.

  To obtain a more accurate response, I often attacked this question from a different angle. Instead of asking direct questions about one’s village, I commonly asked the man what he thought would happen to me (an American female), if I walked around his village by myself. Some could not even comprehend the question, as the thought of a Western woman, walking around Afghanistan, unarmed without a burka was completely unheard of. But, with enough prodding, I could usually get a decent response to the question. Often, the local Afghan men would express a look of horror at the thought of me walking around their village by myself. Facial expressions, such as this, would provide me with valuable information, as I knew immediately it would not be safe for me to visit the man’s village. Some admitted that I would probably be kidnapped and/or attacked if I were ever found on the street alone.

  This was the response I looked for. It indicated that there were insurgents, or, at a minimum, villagers who reported to the insurgents, living in the local area. If a local resident believed an American would be kidnapped and killed, it was clear there were security problems in his region. Although some would admit to my hypothetical demise, only a few would provide any specific information, such as names or locations of insurgent members. Most would deny any knowledge of these details.

  Much to my surprise, many told me, if I were accompanied by a local man, through the village, I would have no problem. That shocked me but it was also refreshing to hear. Some even invited me to their home for a meal, although I believe most extended the invitation out of courtesy, rather than actual hospitality. These little bits of information helped us, and the military units, assess the security situation in each village. If I had been allowed to leave the base, I am sure c
uriosity would have gotten the best of me and I might have taken some of these men up on their offer of a neighborhood tour.

  Sometimes, the responses I received, to my hypothetical proposition, were just plain humorous. When I asked one man what would happen to me, if I walked through his village alone, he stated that “All the men would try to have their fathers contact your father to arrange marriage.” This amazed me, since I obviously did not fit the normal Afghan standard for marriage. I asked him why he thought the men would want to marry an American and he told me “Everyone Afghan wants an American wife.” He was the only man who ever told me that, however, so I believe that maybe he would be interested in an American wife, but not many other Afghans would be.

  Another man informed that if I were to walk through his village alone, “Clearly, you would be lost.” I guess that was his way of telling me not come around. Yet, another man shrugged his shoulders and replied to me, “That is your business…what do we care?”

  I asked the men I interviewed for their opinion on all sort of topics, from politics, to religion and even what they would do if they were given a million dollars. The latter question brought interesting responses. Again, having that kind of money was incomprehensible to nearly every Afghan citizen. But, some were able to do a little daydreaming for me. Many told me they would simply buy more land to farm, or buy more cows to milk. A few said they would travel, usually to India or Dubai, neither of which seem very enticing to me. But, then again, most uneducated Afghans do not know the names of too many other countries. And, none of their relatives or villagers go on luxury vacations to Italy or Fiji and the like, so no one knows these locations even exist.