On Afghanistan

The Wound That Never Fully Heals

Howdy,

It’s been nearly 2 1/2 years since the Taliban, Al Qaeda, and their Pakistani allies humiliated the United States, NATO, and our Afghan allies.

Sometimes, I feel like the only one writing or saying that sentence without qualifiers. Please don’t hesitate to push back on that argument. I’ve heard all the rejoinders before.

Regardless of your thoughts on the war, the country’s shameful inability to talk openly and honestly about Afghanistan is the final betrayal heaped upon two decades full of them. Nobody says anything about our Afghan allies because it is shameful. We barely mention that Al Qaeda defeated us, and now they have time and space to reconstitute. We can’t even pass a simple piece of legislation to help those already here.

There’s so much to say about Afghanistan; we are barely scratching the surface of the final two weeks, let alone the entire twenty-year ordeal.

I bring all this up (again) because people are still trying to get our Afghan allies out. Despite erecting barriers, another trusted ally regularly reappears, and I cannot walk away from them as my fellow countrymen did so effortlessly. I’m not alone in confronting this. The cinematic universe of the Afghan evac community is large, disparate, and filled with some crazy characters (myself very much included). Thousands of us do this work while managing somewhat of a regular life.

Despite my fellow travelers, I’m often forced to make excruciating decisions that nobody should ever be forced to make once, let alone hundreds of times (probably a thousand, to be honest).

I’m alone in these decisions. It triggers all the demons I’ve tried to starve.

Last week, an old ghost came back into my life. I will not get into the details for their safety. Nevertheless, I’ve decided to reconnect and help them, if that’s even possible.

Every time you commit like this, you must accept the odds. You must realize that there’s a good chance they will not make it. I give them less than a 5% chance.

I’m probably setting myself up for more heartache, despair, and agony.

So why do it?

Because words should mean something, they should be upheld. This Afghan has earned that level of loyalty. No matter the cost. Even if it’s just saying, “I’m sorry. We couldn’t save you.”

They deserve to hear that from someone. Someone should say it.

That doesn’t mean it should fall on me. It shouldn’t. It shouldn’t fall on any of us. None of us.

And until we finally get serious about restoring our honor in Afghanistan, this open wound will never heal. It has fallen on those who spent the best part of their lives serving repeatedly in war zones to restore a semblance of our honor—and, frankly, that’s bullshit.

Until next time. . .