Russian President Boris Yeltsin's handling of rebellious Chechnya has ominous -- and reassuring -- parallels to the war in Afghanistan waged by the former Soviet Union.
When I was a student at an international institute in Moscow, I drank tea a few times with a man from Afghanistan. He was older than most of the other students, tall with a dark mustache, and was just beginning his ninth year there when I arrived in 1989. This date should be a hint to you that Hasim was no ordinary student. He arrived the year after the Soviets invaded Afghanistan. There were other clues that Hasim was not to be trusted. Not only did Hasim always have quality tea, which he prepared in an ornate, electric samovar, but he also had a washing machine. Only through connections did a person achieve such luxuries in Russia then.In our conversations, Hasim and I talked about current events. He wanted to hear what I read about in the international editions of the Economist magazine and U.S. News, and it was good "praktika" for me to explain it to him in Russian. Usually, once the tea was gone, he would sit back in his chair and languidly smoke a cigarette, correcting my grammar as I talked about the fall of communism in Poland, East Germany, Czechoslovakia and Bulgaria.
At the end of November 1989, Hasim invited me to a "press conference" that he was organizing on Afghanistan. He pressed a note into my hand the morning of the conference urging me to be there. When I arrived, I felt like I had been set up. Present at the session were not only several officials from the Soviet-supported government in Kabul, but the Afghan ambassador to Moscow and four television cameras. With a crowd of about 200 in attendance, the officials proceeded to condemn the United States for outfitting rebels with Stinger missiles and other armaments. They showed slides of mutilated children with captions in English saying, "Children of Kabul killed by the Americans and their godless technology." Each time the United States was mentioned, one of the cameras would focus in on me. Meanwhile, I deliberated whether I should walk out, fearing that if I did it might be used in a news clip or documentary in a negative way. So I stayed, feeling angry, naive and used.When the inevitable question came to the "American in the room" with mikes and cameras pointed my direction, I was as ready as I could be. Knowing that sound bites leave little room for editing and not wanting to get into a discussion in Russian, I responded to the question about "American atrocities" with: "I am a simple student far from home, yet I know what we are hearing today is not the whole truth. I am honored to be an American."Then an unexpected thing happened. Several Russians in the audience began asking hard questions of the officials.
"Our government still tells us that our troops were invited to invade your country to protect it, even though our first action was to kill your president and install our own. Could you please tell us who invited the Soviet Union to invade?""You talk about the Americans as if they are fighting in this war. But this war is being fought by Afghans on one side and Russians on the other. Why are there no Afghans fighting with Russians, if we are there for the good of Afghanistan?""We are tired of our government lying to us. Our leaders say that the end of the war is near, but that is what they said five years ago. We are tired of watching our sons die for a land that is not important to us. Why should not all Russians come back now?"As the Afghan officials stared at one another, finally breaking into laughter, it became clear that the press conference was intended only for propaganda purposes. It was a staged event, and serious questions were never intended to be asked, let alone answered. Anger rose among the Russians in attendance. Soon, several were standing and shouting about Brezhnev's folly, continued by Chernenko, Andropov and Gorbachev.On the way out, one of the Russians stopped me, "This is our Vietnam. We are tired of it, and we will change the government if that is what must be done."These were revolutionary words, dangerous to be voiced in Moscow in 1989. Yet, they turned out to be true. Although the Afghan War was not the main reason for the collapse of the Soviet Union, it was not a small factor either. It and Chernobyl became symbols of the duplicity of Soviet leaders, and both were seared into the Russian consciousness like Vietnam was into ours.
To be continued.
Jon K. Rust is a Washington-based writer for the Southeast Missourian.
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