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What Must Alex be Thinking About Afghanistan?

What Must Alex be Thinking About Afghanistan?

Words by Jeffrey Arthur

In 2016, six-year-old Alex’s letter detailed his willingness to help an injured boy in Syria – and as the situation in Afghanistan unfolds, I wonder what he and other children must be thinking.

The Oval Office has been home to many important visits, discussions and decisions. And in 2016, after welcoming the new President-Elect of the United States, President Obama played host to another important guest. Unlike most people that wander through the White House – from presidents to kings, prime ministers to ambassadors – Alex didn’t bring a huge entourage. He was a short and sweet fellow, with a soft and caring tone. He was also six, came from New York and visited the president with his mum, dad and little sister (not many world leaders can get a family ticket to the White House, we’ll have you know).

And unlike the usual visitors, Alex hadn’t come to talk about some obscure piece of legislation, global economic issue or the latest conflict. At the request of Obama, he had come to talk about a letter he wrote: ” Dear President Obama, remember the boy who was picked up by the ambulance in Syria? Can you please go get him and bring him [to my home]?… Please tell him that his brother will be Alex who is a very kind boy, just like him”, he said.

He had come to learn about Omran, a young boy from Syria. In many ways, he was just like Alex – young, boyish, and with hopes and dreams of his own. But the lottery of birth would place Omran in a very different place to Alex, leaving him without the chance to grow up in one of the world’s wealthiest cities, with access to education and security, rights and privileges, and a system that sought to protect him. Instead, he would find himself at the back of an ambulance in a war-torn country, his head bloodied, his feet bruised, and his wandering eyes devoid of hope.

For most, it was a shocking image, a reminder of how cruel the world can be. It would force leaders to release statements, to note the tragedy of war. Then, life went on, the usual political and celebrity controversies resuming their place in the headlines.

For Alex, though, the image would stir in him a basic human instinct for kindness, decency, and empathy: “Since we won’t bring toys, Catherine will share her big blue stripy white bunny. And I will share my bike and I will teach him how to ride it. I will teach him additions and subtractions in math”, he added.

Obama would read excerpts of Alex’s letter at the UN, citing the power of hope, of a six-year-old boy “who hasn’t learned to be cynical, or suspicious, or fearful of other people because of where they’re from, or how they look, or how they pray.”

We can all learn from Alex, Mr Obama said. And yet, five years on, with children and women displaced in Afghanistan, brothers and fathers at risk of losing their lives, we haven’t learnt from Alex, at all.

With lightning pace, the Taliban have advanced into the capital city, Kabul, leaving many families – fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, cousins and friends – desperately looking for ways to evacuate. To some, the fall of Kabul – and the government in Afghanistan – was inevitable, especially after the rapid withdrawal of US and allied troops from the country. With brutal speed, the Taliban has begun the process of forming a government, leaving former politicians, including the ex-president, fleeing the country.

On screens across the world, we’re shown a coordinated attempt by governments – from the US to the UK, Canada to Germany – to evacuate their citizens and diplomats. Military helicopters continue to lift off from vulnerable roofs. Crowds of people, including young children, grow more desperate, as they search for ways to escape what they anticipate will be a brutal regime.

Across the West, electorates grow frustrated, confused at the speed of events and the lack of action from their politicians. Soldiers, veterans and families of fallen military personnel are beginning to voice their dismay, with some wondering what the last twenty years were for if Afghanistan could be left to fall in a matter of weeks.

In the White House, Joe Biden continues to reinforce his view that America cannot solve every problem around the world, claiming the withdrawal of troops is vital to the US national security interests. Across the pond, Prime Minister Boris Johnson seems to be singing the same tune, citing the “extreme” difficulty of the situation.

For commentators, the risk of Afghanistan becoming a breeding ground for terror is very high – and for many human rights organisations, charities and think-tanks, the risk of women being denied education, punished for freedoms we all take for granted and forced to take a back seat in society is very real.

As the situation grows more complex – and with thousands of people displaced – some governments (sometimes after being forced to reverse cruel, nonsensical policies) are beginning to act: Canada led the way in expanding its resettlement programme, bringing more Afghans to safety, the UK Government reversed its decision on visas for Afghan students, after they were blocked by the Foreign Office, and smaller countries are signalling their commitment to help out. Still, with the last few planes leaving the capital city, many people will be left behind, with their hopes and dreams being replaced by worries and fears.

I am not a national security expert, nor am I burdened with the decisions political leaders face. I am not privy to detailed intelligence briefs, and I can’t fully explain the history, issues and complexities of the situation in Afghanistan.

But as I watch desperate crowds gather, with hopeless eyes and panicked hearts, and with some young men falling to their death from the skies, after climbing the engine of the US Air Force C-17 plane, I wonder if I need to be a national security expert.

I wonder if the heavily protected rooms of power, with high-level equipment and sophisticated procedures, could do more to make a difference, to respond to the desperate plea of millions.

I also wonder, whether the kindness and hope demonstrated by Alex, the ability to feel empathy for another young boy in a desperate situation, cannot spur us on to do more. 

As the fallout from these events rages on, I imagine what Alex must be thinking, whether he’s busy counting how many extra toys he has to offer, or whether he’s slowly losing hope, coming to the realisation that individual kindness is no match for governmental apathy.

Here are some resources and suggestions on what to do to help Afghanistan.

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