KABUL – Halfway through the briefing, Gul Ahmad left the
room. Relations had been tense for a long time between the Afghan
colonel and one of his American colleagues. The Afghan had been feeling
humiliated. A few minutes later he returned with his gun. He killed the
nine Americans in the room within seconds – eight officers and a
contractor. He was quickly captured, and in five minutes he was also
dead. In Afghanistan, honor is definitely worth more than human life.
The
tragedy made headlines in the world press last year on April 27. The
incident took place at the
Kabul International Airport, just a stone's
throw from the joint command of the international coalition troops,
ISAF. "There, in that building," points Colonel József Koller, while
parking his armored Toyota. Koller is the commander of the 12-strong
Hungarian mentor group of the Afghan squadron flying the MI-35 combat
helicopters, working here on the ‘Afghan side’.
This side of the
airport is separated from the ISAF compound by a huge dam and barbed
wire. Access is possible only through a steel gate after being searched –
a rare achievement for a journalist. Five thousand servicemen live
here, a substantial part of the headcount of the Afghan National Army's
(or, ANA) air force (the ANA air force totals 7,000 airmen). While NATO
mentors wear only their uniforms in the ISAF compound, here they walk
about in their bulletproof vests and carry assault rifles.
Their
task is to help and mentor the Afghans, until they become able to
guarantee their country’s security on their own. The objective is
beautiful, the reality grim: ‘green on blue’ incidents occur almost
daily throughout Afghanistan, when the mentoree (green) attacks his
mentor (blue) – seven Americans died in such attacks in August only. In
early September the Afghan Defence Ministry removed hundreds of ANA
soldiers from the army. The decision was related to such incidents.
The
task of the international mentors is a tough one, not only because of
the controversial situation of confidence: many of the Afghans speak
very little of the NATO language, English, or not at all.
Colonel
Koller, who is not wearing the ballistic vest, greets without the help
of an interpreter Colonel Khair Mohammad, commander of the Afghan combat
helicopter pilots. Of course, Koller does not speak Dari. The senior
Hungarian officer and his Afghan partner speak with each other fluently
in the military language of an erstwhile era: Russian. In the very heart
of NATO's number one mission.
Just how this came to be makes for an interesting tale.
Kabul, twenty years later...
"I
could not believe my eyes," recalls Commander Mohammad on the moment
when the first Hungarian NATO pilots showed up in Kabul in 2010 to
mentor his squadron. "This is Alex!" He immediately recognized his
former schoolmate, even though they had not seen each other for more
than 20 years.
The last time they did, was in Kyrgyzstan, 1987.
The pilots in training from two Soviet-dominated countries were taking
courses in the capital, then called Frunze before being renamed Bishkek
after 1991. Young many from all the Soviet nations were recruited to
train there at the tender age of 19, and they did not only learn and fly
together. They also lived together. For two full years, the rooms of
the Hungarians, from the heartland of Europe, and of the Afghans, from
the center of Asia, opened into the same corridor.
The Soviet
training also attended to the political-ideological preparation of the
cadets. After the Morse training, a political briefing was the order of
every morning. Koller, also a graduate of that air force academy,
remembers his surprise in 1989 when the training officer started
screaming at him and the other Hungarians at the top of his voice, "What
the hell are you doing??!!" Back home, Hungary had opened its western
frontier towards Austria, the first cut in the iron curtain between the
Atlantic alliance and the Soviet sphere of interest.
Ideological
training at that time was not worth much. By the time Koller returned to
Hungary in November 1989, his country was already a republic preparing
for free elections. That same year the Soviets were forced to abandon
the fight against the mujahedeen in Afghanistan and retreated from the
country.
"We heard they’re all dead," said Colonel Koller. But
this spring, when he arrived in Afghanistan (there is a four-month
rotation of the Hungarian Air Mentor Team in Kabul), he also recognized a
former classmate among his current mentorees in the person of Mohammad
Harum Jr. Even Colonel Koller's subordinate, Major 'Zolika', who
graduated from the last Soviet course in 1991, found his then friend,
Asef. Major Zolika's older brother is none other than Alex, the former
classmate of Commander Mohammad. The reunion came as a bigger shock to
the Hungarians than the Afghans. While the Hungarians enjoyed a peaceful
decade as combat helicopter pilots after graduating from Frunze and
Hungary became a NATO member in 1999, the Afghans saw another murderous
decade torn by the civil war until 1996, when the
Taliban conquered
Kabul and became the rulers of the country.
Formerly on the side of the Taliban
At
the end of 2001, the American and international troops ousted the
Taliban supporting the terrorists responsible for 9/11, but the impact
of the civil war is still felt today. Commander Mohammad diplomatically
stresses, that his pilots work for one aim, in unity. However, Col.
Koller mentions that one of the twenty Afghan pilot mentorees was
fighting on the side of the Taliban. In fact, during the civil war, he
was fighting face to face with the Colonel. By the end, no one was
shooting at the other.
Today, they work together. The relations
are cool, if respectful, between the two Afghan pilots, says Col.
Koller, who participates day after day in their preparation. Somewhat to
his surprise, it was the former Taliban warrior who swore to him: "If
someone attacks you, I myself would be there to stop the bullet."
The
Afghans are tough, seasoned warriors, in some cases with more than 20
years of experience in fierce fighting. Some of them have spent more
hours in the air than their mentors ever will. On the other hand, hours
in the aircraft do not necessarily translate into professionalism based
upon international aviation standards. In this respect, they can learn a
lot from their Hungarian mentors serving in the NATO alliance, who
teach them planning and also aviation English.
"We could sometimes
say that we learn more from them," opines Endre Maczák. The captain in
his twenties could maneuver here among mountain peaks at 4,000 meters,
heights that do not exist in Hungary. Moreover, Hungarian pilots had not
been exposed to combat engagement since the Second World War. They saw
combat for the first time here in Afghanistan.
"We flew many
sorties together. Also on the Pakistani border, in Bargimatal, shooting
at the rebels," remembers Commander Mohammad. "If the international
troops wish to withdraw from here in 2014, they may as well go, as far
as I'm concerned. But the Hungarians should stay," he adds with
emphasis.
"To realize that the Hungarian pilots were
corridor-mates with the Afghans more than twenty years ago, it was a
real surprise to me. An amazing coincidence. These relationships are
very helpful for the entire organization," says Lieutenant Colonel
Joshua Bowman, commander of the Rotary Wing Squadron mentor group. He
highlighted that the mission in Afghanistan was not the mission of the
individual nations but of the coalition forces. In his view, that the
‘green on blue’ tragedy that took place last year claimed only American
victims was not representative. The victims could have easily been from
any number of NATO member states. And the ballistic vest he wears and
the automatic rifle he carries are not there to defend himself against
the ones he knows but against the ones he does not. "I have full
confidence in the Afghan pilots, however, the danger here is always
clear and present. I'm not afraid of that. I'm just prepared for it," he
says.
‘I can easily be shot down’
Since
October 2011, more than 2,000 Americans have died in Afghanistan in
Operation Enduring Freedom, which, according to its name, is not even a
war. "How you classify this mission in Afghanistan makes little
difference to the soldier who was shot and killed," says Lieutenant
Colonel Bowman. His statement is still timely: two American pilots died
the previous day. "I can very easily be shot down when I take off with
the Mi-17. So, in my opinion, it is a war."
But if it is a war, can it be won?
"Victory
is possible," he says, "if we do not expect a full discontinuation of
violence but the Afghans to have a competent fighting force that can
itself guarantee the security of people."
Although the competence
of the Afghan defense force of 320,000 is improving day by day, it will
be tough to achieve this goal by the time the ISAF forces leave in 2014.
No one can predict what will happen when the strong ISAF protective net
disappears. Without support the country's security could not be
guaranteed, says Col. Khair Mohammad. An international presence may be
necessary for a very long time, a point underlined by the sarcastic
remark of a soldier serving on the ISAF-side of the airport: "Can we
have peace here by 2014? Of course. According to the Afghan calendar, it
is only 1391."
However, Zolika, his older brother Alex and Col.
Koller have already won in Afghanistan. Surely, not the war itself, but a
truly extraordinary class reunion by all means. More than 2,800 miles
away from their homeland, after more than twenty years, with schoolmates
they thought dead long ago.
(The author traveled to Kabul in September 2012.)
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