The Middle Class and “Afghan Fatigue”

“I don’t know these people, I can’t relate to them, this country used to be so decent now everything is money, money, money. It didn’t used to be like this”. It could be the sound of regret of any older person anywhere bemoaning the passing of youth, missing the familiar faces of friends and family moved on. But this is Afghanistan and my friend is almost like an island unto himself in a land changed forever and for good!

As we drive through Kabul in his VW saloon, an odd experience in Kabul, he points out where the cinemas, discotheques and girls in mini skirts used to be that are now gone. The streets he knew as a boy are barely recognizable under the blanket of dust and rubbish tossed out on them.

This is the middle class of Afghanistan. Once heartened by the opportunity to return their home after the fall of the Taliban in 2001, they have come back to build a new life. The middle class now finds itself wearied by the constant battle required to build anything at all which someday might again resemble the country of their parents. Parents who were wealthy enough to get their children – then teenagers – to the West in the early 80s saving them from the coming thirty years of war or a life of uncertainty as refugees in Iran or Pakistan. They were teachers and business people, some were political also but they got their children out one way or the other. They were the lucky ones and they were luckier than some who had to walk out!

This group now finds themselves in between the ever shifting power at the top of the country paid for by the West and above the mass poverty at the bottom. But no one is bothered about the middle class. Probably the only group really capable of building something here are not poor enough for charity or rich enough to be connected to influence, which is everything here. If you are not connected you are nothing and you will pay.

For example, in Kabul there are many roads which Afghans cannot drive down. These are the roads which have foreign embassies or government ministries on them and special permits are required to access the roads. I work for a company which has such a permit. Before I arrived, I had read interviews with taxi drivers and other people heavily reliant on transport bemoaning the destruction that the closure of such roads had caused to their businesses. I recently observed first hand what this frustration is like whilst accompanying my friend on a trip to get groceries.

As well as being fluent in English, German and his native Dari, (and possessing a German passport) he still could not drive down a road leading to another road on which his family has had a clothes shop since the 70s. His frustrations finally getting the better of him, he unloaded onto the Afghan National Police (ANP) officer whose job it was to ensure that all the security contractors, consultants, media types (myself), etc. all get to go down the road which doubles as a handy short cut as well as being the road leading to the MFA. Basically, it’s a road for all of the people who have been busy fixing the country since 2001.

Well done, good job by the way, especially to the UN who will have made millionaires of so many consultants but never mind. At least there will be lots of shiny reports on what it was exactly that went wrong here for M.A. and PHd students to do their dissertations on far from the horror of this place.

Incidentally, the next time you hear the term foreign aid or that X amount of millions will be invested in one country or another like the recent announcement that the U.K. will invest 500 million in Afghanistan over the next ten years, remember that this money (contracts) will be bid on by large Western consultancies who will ultimately subcontract to a smaller consultancy who will in turn subcontract to an even smaller consultancy. At least four companies will take their cut before any work will be done on the ground so if you’re wondering why your country is still in Afghanistan or where all the money went or, more importantly, why your son might still be fighting here this is one of the reasons. When the distribution of aid is being slowed down so much by this process and so much of it is being siphoned off by companies which are required to be Western in the first place in order to be awarded contracts, it’s no wonder that this war has gone on for so long.

But to go back to my friend. To add insult to injury, before we approached this checkpoint, he asked me to speak English to the ANP officer and said he would pretend to be my driver so that maybe we would get past the ANP officer. In the end after much pleading, followed by shouting, followed by insults, we were denied our short cut and spent another 40 minutes in traffic. It wasn’t the first time that a well-educated professional from this country had asked me to do this in their homeland to save a bit of time.

I recently travelled to the documentary film festival HotDocs in Toronto with a documentary I had made before I came to Afghanistan. I also had a number of ideas up my sleeve to pitch to various commissioning editors only to be met by the the term “Afghan Fatigue”. Afghan Stars, Afghan cricket teams and Afghan heroin addicts have all had their day in the sun and it seems that the broadcasting industry is done with Afghanistan, which in effect means the war is almost over now.

But it is over in the same way that painters finish work, in that it’s not really over, it’s just that the work has stopped or is stopping. Barack Obama and David Cameron have recessions to turn around and neither leader will be afforded much leeway for mistakes during their terms as they are experimental leaders for their respective countries so as to be able to say “we pulled out of Afghanistan” will do nicely indeed when being considered for re-election.

When Jim Clarke said recently “we are not here to fix the education system of a broken 13th century society” despite the gasping of the new Conservative UK government, he was not far off. In a country in which women’s ankles substitute as cleavage because that’s the only bit of female flesh men will see in this country, at least of women who are not their wives, it’s hard to not agree with him. I might have disapproved of this comment had I not had the displeasure of having my girlfriend gawked at by an entire street we were walking down a few weeks back. Although she is an American, it does not help that she could easily be mistaken for an Afghan herself as her parents are Indian.

My friend from the middle class told me of his own repulsion of this when catching himself and his friends gawking at women on occasion. But again, he reminds me it didn’t used to be like this and that he himself once punched a guy leering in through his car window at a niece of his.

I am reminded of all the articles of the sexually repressed island I come from about pederasts and sex fiends especially from the clergy who warp nations whilst saving the individual soul. Of course, the whole of Afghanistan is glued to soaps which come out of India and Turkey in which women look and dress… well, like women. But, of course, this is not for Afghan women. Although the tight fitting jeans and vibrant colored makeup that women wear here suggest that they themselves might have something to say about this if their husbands would allow them. 

Such is my annoyance on this point that when I recently moved house the young chaokidar’s* fascination with two westerners i.e. my girlfriend and I, quickly began to irritate me. Part of this has to do with the Afghan obsession with Bollywood but when a 14 year old boy, which is my best guess at his age, whose job it is to effectively clean up after you lounges around staring at you while you eat, you quickly lose patience. In this country, your home truly is your castle. Afghanistan stops at the front door otherwise it will get you in the end, the exhausting hot days and conservative ever watchful society make you crave privacy.

On this point, I should say before coming here I never really had much of an opinion on child labour except to say that it was something happening somewhere in the world and yes, of course, it was to be disapproved of. It is everywhere in this country and as long as things remain the way they are it will be a necessary evil. However, for the people of this country, it is keeping food on tables and roofs over heads; therefore, it is not an evil at all but simply a way of life. A service provided by Afghans for Afghans and, of course, the foreigners.

The next time some bleeding heart stops you on Queen Street, Grafton Street or Patrick Street, ask him if he knows how much of your pound or euro will make it to its destination. You can take your pick of NGOs, they are all out here and it’s not with your pocket change! They are bidding and lobbying for the big money, where the real action is!

*Chaokidar. A servant who guards the house and does various chores such as cleaning, grocery shopping etc.