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| Published in Washington, D.C. May 16, 1988 |
First Soviet troops begin Afghan exit
Shattered nation remains in agony
By Richard S. Ehrlich
THE WASHINGTON TIMES
KABUL, Afghanistan
Swarthy, turbaned Moslem rebels, most of them illiterate and living in poverty, fought for eight years until Moscow, a bloodied superpower, called it quits.
In this country's domed mosques, swarming bazaars and mud-walled villages, Afghans are now adding up the toll from the wasted years of Russia's involvement in their affairs.
After an estimated one million Afghans -- mostly civilians -- were killed in the war, frustrated Soviet forces have now begun retreating from turf occupied by the Red Army for the first time since Austria in 1955.
Afghanistan's jagged mountains and grueling deserts became a graveyard for 12,000 to 20,000 or more Soviet soldiers.
Tales of how Afghans fought the "Shuravi," or Soviets, will undoubtedly be handed down from generation to generation in this ancient land, which is bound by a code of killing to defend honor.
Their stories will be added to a long list of past wars, including invasions by Alexander the Great, the descendants of Genghis Khan, Mogul dynasty founder Babur and the failed British colonial attempts to subjugate these people in the 1800s.
The war between the Russians and the Afghan guerrillas also has created a tragic legacy of maimed survivors, devastated towns and farms, shattered traditions and families permanently wrenched apart by the war.
More than five million refugees are still afraid to return home.
Afghanistan is now filled with enough hatred, anger and fear to fuel a revenge-filled civil war, which threatens to push it into deeper agony.
When Soviet forces stabbed south across the Amu Darya, the ancient Oxus River, during Christmas 1979, no one in Moscow, Washington or Kabul expected ragtag "mujahideen" guerrillas would bring the Red Army to its knees in a seemingly endless fight.
The anti-communist rebels relied heavily on more than two billion dollars of CIA weaponry and cash, along with material support from Britain, Pakistan, China, Saudi Arabia and other nations.
But the estimated 200,000 Afghan insurgents, only a fraction of them highly active, have squared off against 115,000 Soviet troops and about 40,000 Afghan army men.
Soviet MiG warplanes screamed across the clear blue Central Asian sky, repeatedly bombing villages, farms, valleys and supply routes.
Russian helicopter gunships, resembling huge metal wasps but armed with machine guns and phosphorous rockets, hunted the rebels as they hid in mountain gorges or simply covered themselves up with tan-colored blankets to blend in with the bleak landscape.
Russian troops learned valuable lessons from Afghanistan.
Six months after they invaded, they were forced to pull out much of their heavy vehicles because the terrain was too tough and required lighter transport instead.
Over the years they also learned to parachute small teams on mountaintops to protect their huge convoys against snipers as the Soviet tanks, fuel trucks and other vehicles trudged along valley floors.
The Russians mined roads and rebel supply routes. Many of the mines, disguised as toys, radios and other attractive items, killed or maimed the men, women and children who were simply fleeing the war for the relative safety of another valley, city or country.
Younger Soviet soldiers also learned the despair, loneliness, nightmare and corruption of serving in a lengthy war.
Some turned to Afghanistan's powerful hashish and heroin. Others sold their military gear for imported Japanese electronic gadgets.
Soviet officers learned it's better to secure air bases, fortified garrisons and cities than to chase the guerrillas through Afghanistan's maze of lifeless mountains.
Russian army camps grew to resemble a sort of home, complete with imported Soviet food cooked and served by female Russian volunteers, while televisions beamed the latest Moscow programs.
One group of Soviet soldiers who play folk music, calling itself the "Blue Berets," even released a record album of sad ballads about the Afghan war. Song titles included "Attack" and "War Is No Picnic."
But unfortunately for the Kremlin, too many Soviet soldiers never had a chance to learn these lessons and were shipped back to their homeland in sealed coffins. A burial in Afghanistan was considered too pathetic an end.
As the war dragged on, atrocities on both sides mounted.
Witnesses said Soviet forces threw Afghan guerrillas out of helicopters, lined up innocent villagers for point-blank execution and trained Kabul's dreaded secret police to torture victims with electric shock, burning cigarettes and beatings.
Soviet soldiers and doctors, meanwhile, spoke of guerrillas who castrated or impaled any Russians captured alive or peeled off their skin and threw them squirming in agony onto the barren wastes.
Others heard of rebels who would slit open a Russian's stomach, bend him over and push his face into his own intestines, or tie a prisoner to four camels to rip his limbs off.
Soviet forces were able to project their military muscle anywhere they wanted in the country -- but at a steep price. They often tried to purge a valley or mountain region of rebels and established a garrison in the area.
The guerrillas, however, would simply melt into the countryside and drift back when the bulk of the Soviet forces left the region in the hands of weaker Afghan troops.
Each year, Western diplomats summed up the war as a "stalemate." As the weaponry grew more deadly on both sides, the stalemate remained, albeit at a higher level.
The insurgents, meanwhile, were never able to seriously attack Kabul, the Afghan capital.
Guarded by Soviet and Afghan army camps, Kabul sits 6,000 feet high amid sharp mountain peaks and is ringed much of the year by snow-covered ranges feeding the Kabul River which flows through downtown.
Today, the tiny, dusty capital is decked with red banners, revolutionary slogans and building-sized portraits of popular but dead rulers and intellectuals.
Last month, Kabul hosted an austere but relatively uninterrupted "celebration" of the 10th anniversary of the Marxist revolution of April 1978.
The rebels' inability seriously to disrupt the celebrations proved Afghan President Najibullah is at least able to maintain peace in Kabul -- for now.
At night, a rocket or two frequently lands somewhere in the city, but damage and casualties are relatively light. Authorities perpetually check vehicles because an occasional car bomb causes havoc in the crowded market.
Despite the war, Kabul is stuffed with imported, cheap goodies, including Russian caviar, Dutch soft drinks, Sony televisions and American playing cards.
Some rebel factions are xenophobic, fundamentalist Sunni Moslems who want to establish a strict Islamic republic ruled by their holy book, the Koran, and free of both Soviet and Western influence.
Others, also Moslems, simply want to halt the revolution, oust the Soviets and the Afghan regime, and allow Afghanistan to modernize and join the international community.
The Marxist grip on Afghanistan began when the communist People's Democratic Party of Afghanistan overthrew the government of Mohammad Daoud and installed Mohammed Nur Taraki as president.
But Mr. Taraki was ousted in a coup, which installed the much hated Hafizullah Amin. Later the Soviets backed another coup, in which Babrak Karmal seized power. With him came thousands of Soviet troops.
Anti-communist rebels were able to rely on secret camps and weapon delivery centers just across Afghanistan's eastern border in Pakistan.
Soon the Afghan-Pakistan border was crawling with CIA agents, Western medical teams, refugees and others in the vortex of the Moslem rebels' battle.
Two years ago, Mr. Karmal and his supporters were unceremoniously ousted because the war was getting worse. Afghanistan's former secret police chief, Najibullah, nicknamed "The Ox" because of his bull-like physique, was suddenly appointed president.
But during 1987, President Reagan started giving the guerrillas sophisticated Stinger anti-aircraft missiles and suddenly destroyed the Soviets' ability to rely on superior air power.
When the Stingers, along with British "Blowpipe" anti-aircraft rockets, appeared, the Kremlin knew it would never be able to win the war without a massive and apparently unacceptable escalation.