Re-Surgence

One week ago, President Obama addressed the nation from West Point, telling us that he was going to send 30,000 more troops to Afghanistan, continuing America's longest war. While I want us to succeed, I can't quite see how it can be possible, not when we're more committed than the population that we are supposedly helping. The people of Afghanistan are not the French resistance. They aren't the Hungarians or the Czechs, who battled in the streets against the Soviet crackdowns in 1956 and 1968 respectively.

Afghanistan is a nation of tribal people beaten down by decades of war, ruled by corrupt warlords. After the Soviets withdrew and we stopped caring, Afghanistan devolved into a bloody civil war that was eventually stabilized by those crazy guys known as the Taliban, a sect who follow a radical interpretation of the Koran, one that outlaws music, dancing, sports, women as human beings. And while many in Afghanistan aren't wild about these guys, they are afraid to stand up for themselves. We can't protect them 24/7 and we will leave. And the radicals will keep coming back. Joe Afghan knows this. Yet how many Americans truly do? To understand what we did before and how we did it, look to Steve Coll's Pulitzer Prize-winning history of the CIA's involvement in the Afghan's struggle against the Soviets, Ghost Wars, as well as George Crile's funny and infuriating and astonishing Charlie Wilson's War.

To get a sense of the personality (and futility) of this poor nation and its people, read Rory Stewart's account of his trek across the country The Places In Between, or Asne Seierstad's The Bookseller of Kabul, Greg Mortenson's Three Cups of Tea, and former NPR reporter Sarah Chayse's brilliant look at Afghanistan after the 2002 invasion, The Punishment of Virtue. And there is a sobering history of the Soviets's failed invasion in Harper's own The Great Gamble by Gregory Feifer and the brilliant and depressing Descent into Chaos and Taliban by Pakistani correspondent Ahmed Rashid.

I'm not going to get into whether Obama's surge is right or wrong. I hate the Taliban and want to see them gone. These are the same people who ban Bach and the Beatles, make educating women illegal, behead and stone people to death, and blow up centuries' old works of magnificent beauty, because the are "offensive." They harbor Al Qaeda, who are a threat to us. And they have close pals in the Paki intelligence service (ISI) who theoretically have access to the Bomb. (Looking for a horror story? Read Who Killed Daniel Pearl? by Bernard-Henri Levy; it will make you think twice whenever you hear the words "America's ally" and "Pakistan" in the same sentence.)

But how long do we keep pouring soldiers and money into this pit? How do we measure success? How can we work with a nation with a culture rife with corruption, led by a president who stole an election while the world watched and whose brother is a drug lord? There is much we don't know about this country, even those who have been on the ground admit as much, demonstrated by what General McChrystal told Congress this week.

And how much money are we pouring into the coffers of private contractors (MERCENARIES!) like Xe (the former Blackwater)? Meanwhile the Republicans whine about the deficit, accuse the president of dithering (Oh, Dick Cheney, go away, please), and the nation is told we can't afford national healthcare and oh my! the sky is falling! social security. And don't forget Iraq.

All or any of the books above can put the situation into perspective, and while they may not offer direct answers, provide necessary insight. But what is it like for the soldiers (and their families) who are putting their lives on the line for America? Stay tuned.

The School of Life

Weekends in my household mean movies. Today, my husband and I finally got around to seeing the acclaimed An Education. Under ordinary circumstances this kind of film would have been a no brainer, but being the stepparent of a 16-year old, the thought of a movie about a teenage girl being seduced by an older man, well the creep factor was a little too high. But, 'tis Oscar Season, and with the buzz already begun about both Carey Mulligan and Peter Sarsgaard, we bit the bullet and headed out to see it, minus the child. (Though, frankly, this is a movie she should see.)

Setting aside the looks of horror we shared as events unfolded, the movie was, indeed, quite good. Peter Sarsgaard plays sympathetic creepy quite well, and Carey Mulligan's balance between innocence and sophistication is a marvel. I was most impressed with the script by Nick Hornby, which he adapted from a chapter in a Brit journalist's memoir. A master geographer of male cluelessness and vulnerability, he brilliantly captures the longing, hubris, and naivety of a bright, ambitious adolescent girl with the insight of well, a woman. Impressive.

And speaking of memoirs, one of the best I have read this year is Lit, Mary Karr's third volume of her life published by Harper. Funny and painful and enlightening, it is her reckoning of how she got drunk, got sober, had a son, built a career, lost a husband, found God, and made peace with the craziness in her life. A deft mix of lyricism, wit, and the profound, Lit deserves the kudos it has gotten from reviewers, including its selection as one of the 10 NYTBR Editors' Choice books. Though for this discerning reader, the highest gratification was its being chosen by Michiko Kakutani as one of her 10 Best Books of the Year.

The book's title is spot-on: Lit=drunk; Lit=secular illumination aka literature/poetry; Lit=spiritual illumination aka finding God. I am envious of Karr's skill as a writer, and wondered at the sweat, frustration, and sheer gumption it took not only to put the story together, but to tell it with such incredible skill. She is a writer to admire. The book reminded me of Traveling Mercies, Anne Lamott's recollections of her journey to faith. While both women are deeply spiritual, neither are preachy nor righteous. (And both have very different writing styles; I admire them both!) As a Catholic, I can appreciate what has drawn Karr to Catholicism (and what draws Lamott to evangelical Christianity). Both focus on the best aspects of religion, and how it can transform life for the better, offering deeper meaning and connection. They are essential complements to Karen Armstrong's The Case for God, which I haven't read—yet—but is on the never-ending list.

Another terrific memoir I had the pleasure to read recently was Craig M. Mullaney's The Unforgiving Minute: A Soldier's Education. More to come on this, Obama, Afghanistan, Iraq, and the sorrowful cycle of war.

Prisoners

On Monday's Daily Show, John Stewart interviewed Newsweek's Maziar Bahari, who was detained by Iranian officials in the aftermath of that nation's recent elections. For 118 days he was held in Iran's notorious Evin Prison. Part of the "evidence" used against him was his "interview" with Daily Show "correspondent" Jason Jones. In his talk with Stewart, Bahari mentioned that the Iranian government has no sense of humor. If that weren't so sad it would be very, very funny. (And I thought my mother had no sense of humor.) Bahari also had some interesting comments about his interrogator's take on New Jersey, that crucible of evil. (Well, they did vote in another Republican governor sure to cut their taxes and put them in an even deeper fiscal hole sure to be kicked down to the road for a future Dem to handle. But I digress.)

Sadly, Bahari is but one of many journalists, scholars, students, and ordinary bystanders locked up by the ultra-paranoid Iranian government.

In September 2009, Ecco released My Prison, My Home, Haleh Esfandiari's memoir of her captivity by the Mahmoud Ahmadinejad regime. An Iranian-born scholar and the founding director of the Woodrow Wilson Center's Middle East Program, she was accused of being a spy, and after weeks of harassment, was thrown into Evin Prison. Though it took a while, reviewers have praised the book and its insights. Unfortunately, Bahari and Esfandiari are just two of the many innocent victims, both Iranian and Western, who have found themselves pawns in a dangerous international game. There is also Roxana Saberi, the young correspondent for NPR and the BBC who suffered a similar fate. Harper will publish her memoir in April 2010, a book which offers a similar yet fresh perspective on this intriguing country, its politics, culture, and people.

Though their stories may have similar elements, all are worth reading and exploring. Tensions between Iran and the U.S. remain high; the more we can discover and learn about this country, the more we can place the reports we read and hear into broader context. While there are many good journalists out there, there is often much to be desired from the village (mainstream media) which presents stories with little background and few connections to wider issues—not to mention a lack of historical background. There are many illuminating books worth reading available, from an analysis by former CIA operative (and New York Times bestselling author) Bob Baer to Reading Lolita in Tehran to Mark Bowden's Guests of the Ayatollah, a recounting of the Iranian hostage crisis (which took place on my birthday, 11/4/79). His engaging history is coming to the screen via HBO.

Here's looking at you, Great Satan.