Real Democracy

I went out to a local restaurant for lunch today with a few of my co-workers, and at one point one of them said to me, "Now we have real democracy in Afghanistan." Surprised by this comment, I asked him what he meant. He told me that he was referring to the very open and public display of Muharram/Ashura paraphernalia by Afghanistan's Shia minority. All around Kabul, large gate-like structures are being erected at major intersections and covered in black cloth, and buildings and cars owned by Shias are festooned with huge, garish flags and banners bearing the name of the martyred Imam Hussain. During the Taliban regime, my co-worker told me, such displays would have been punishable by death--the Taliban, being radical Sunnis, didn't take too kindly to Shiite exuberance.

I've been thinking about my co-worker's comment all afternoon. On the one hand, as someone steeped in the Western political tradition, part of me wanted to tell him that while freedom of religion is indeed an important part of a democratic polity, "real" democracy goes far beyond that. And nobody who lives in, studies, or reads about Afghanistan for more than 30 seconds can possibly conclude that Afghan elections are actual examples of a meaningfully democratic process. Demos kratos--people power--requires that your votes actually count when you cast them, something that is too often absent from Afghan voting booths.

And yet I don't think it would be right of me to lecture my Afghan colleagues and friends about how they are wrong to believe that the freedom to display Imam Hussain's name openly constitutes real democracy, or at least an important step on the road thereto. Because the most meaningful types of power, and the most meaningful ways to exercise power, are not always political. The Taliban's religious beliefs are very different from those of the large majority of Afghans, so between the Communist coup in 1978 and the creation of the Karzai government in 2002, Afghans had to endure 24 years without real religious freedom. That must have been a significant hardship for most Afghans, none more so than the Shia population that was so heavily persecuted by the Taliban. The fact that taqiyya, or concealment of one's religious beliefs in order to avoid being persecuted, is explicitly endorsed within Shia Islam does not make it a desirable way to live one's life.

There is a moral to this story, although I'm not entirely sure what it is. Maybe it is simply that even though we have done a lot of things wrong in Afghanistan, and even though there are a lot of problems with the Karzai government in the short and long terms, there are also ways in which life in Afghanistan is simply and undeniably better than it was ten years ago. And some of those ways are very important to the Afghan people.

Lipstick on a Pig

Disclaimer: Yes, I realize that a pig may not be the most culturally-appropriate animal to choose as a metaphor for Kabul. Blame English's idiom inventory, not me.

Anyway.

Driving through the streets of Kabul the other day on my way from the airport to my guesthouse, the city looked extremely familiar to me. Not that I had expected much to change - I was only gone for a little over five months, after all, and things move slowly in Afghanistan. But I saw many of the same traffic jams, the same sad vegetable carts on the roadsides, the same beaten-down-but-determined-looking Afghans waiting for cabs, and too much of the same crushing poverty.

And then we turned onto the main street near my guesthouse. Now, this street is large enough to have a name, which means it is a relatively important roadway. And it does link one of the more bustling business areas of the city with one of the two or three biggest vehicle arteries in town. But it's really not that important in the scheme of things.

So I was quite surprised to see that the street had been paved in my absence--and not just paved, but paved seemingly quite well! With paint markings separating the lanes (even including solid lines and dashed lines to indicate where you could pass other cars). And real, brick sidewalks. And grates to cover the wialas.* And even crosswalks. I pointed this out to my driver (after three flights and two nights spent on airplanes, the best I could manage was "The street is not broken any more!"), and he commented excitedly that he was very happy about this development.

*Wialas are basically open sewers that run along each side of most of Kabul's streets. Not exactly the city's most endearing feature.

Now, one of the things that my time in Afghanistan has taught me is that it's difficult to overestimate how important a functional transportation infrastructure is to the economic development and prosperity of a country. And I'm sure that the paving of the road and the other tasks involved in the project provided much-needed employment and salary to more than a few needy Afghans.

Still, though, I wonder whether the money mightn't have been better spent on a water treatment plant, or a more reliable electric grid, or better healthcare, or even upgrading the road infrastructure on more important roads. The work done on our street strikes me as an excellent example of cosmetic change implemented mostly to be able to say that something was done.** Which is really not what Afghanistan needs right now.

**The choice of location was undoubtedly also influenced by the fact that there are more than a few international organizations in our area.

Third World Problems

Today is the first day of Eid al-Adha, the Muslim festival marking Abraham's non-sacrifice of Ismail (you say Ismail, I say Isaac). The major ritual of the festival is the sacrifice of a cow (or lamb, or sheep, or goat, or breakfast cereal, or orangutan, or fruit bat). So our neighbors here, being good Muslims, brought in a cow last night for the sacrifice.

Problem is that this cow is apparently none too happy about this state of affairs, and it intends to let the world know. Very loudly. And very constantly. While the cow didn't wake me up last night with its lamentations, it did wake up some of my housemates.

For all of our sakes, I hope that the sacrifice occurs on the first day of the festival, and not the second or third...

#thirdworldproblems