It's time for the US to rethink its AfPak strategy

The Afghanistan-Pakistan approach: a five point plan for Obama.

Afghanistan is a mess. Pakistan remains a perpetual headache.  The Obama Administration’s AfPak strategy is not working.  It is time for a fresh approach.  

The starting point must be a hard-headed assessment of what kind of Afghanistan can be left behind when NATO forces leave in 2014.  The aim should be to prevent a descent into an all out civil war.  The foundations for a stable regime should be established where all key players feel they have a stake in the future of the country.  

US strategy should be re-focused upon five strands.

First, however much one detests the Taliban and what it stands for, it is clear that its confidence is growing.  The start of its Spring Offensive on April 15 - which saw the targeting of foreign embassies and government institutions - underlined the severity of the situation.  The long-term risk of not directly involving those elements of the Taliban willing to cease hostilities in discussions about power-sharing post-2014 is much greater than the short-term fallout a US President might suffer from doing so.  This is also an issue where the strategic interests of both the US and Pakistan coincide, and where the latter could prove useful in seeking a compromise. 

The Taliban comprehends the reality of its own position.  After 35 years of fighting, it is itself exhausted and appreciates that marching on Kabul post-NATO withdrawal is not realistic given the increasing strength of the Afghan army.  It also realises that all foreign aid would be immediately cut off leaving it facing a disgruntled electorate and millions of mouths to feed.

But the longer the US shuns a political solution in favour of a futile military pummelling of the enemy, the weaker its negotiating position will become.  

Second, a regional track to diplomacy on Afghanistan must be established, involving all countries with strategic interests in the country.  Pakistan has for decades sought pliable government in Kabul to offer “strategic depth” against India for fear of “encirclement”.  But the recent visit to India by Asif Ali Zardari, the first by a Pakistani president since 2005, to promote bilateral trade – currently a paltry $3bn - is an encouraging sign of a potential rapprochement between the two neighbours.  

The Russians, Iranians and Arab states also have a stake.  A multilateral diplomatic initiative needs to begin imminently and be led by a credible third party with no historical Kalashnikov to grind.

Third, the extent of the use of drone attacks should be considered.  There is no doubt that they have brought success in dispensing with a number of unsavoury characters in North Waziristan, the base of the Haqqani Network of insurgents.  However, when innocent civilians are killed, this simply acts as a recruiting sergeant for family members to take up arms against the US to avenge the death of their relations.  Honour and revenge in blood are hallmarks of the Pashtun tribal code.  Such attacks should be used sparingly and judiciously.

Fourth, as a Pew research study conducted last year revealed, only 1 per cent of Pakistanis had a positive image of the US - despite $600m in aid being provided after the floods in 2010.  Of the $20bn the US has given since 2001, over 70 per cent has been taken by the country’s military.  The US must instead focus its aid efforts in both Afghanistan and Pakistan on the development of infrastructure and the provision of microfinance to small businesses starved of credit.  The biggest problem being faced by ordinary Pakistanis is the shortage of gas, and living for up to 18-hours a day without power.  More than 60 per cent of the population is under-25 and only 50 per cent are literate.  Central to solving the security conundrum is helping Pakistan back to a path of economic growth and job creation.

Fifth, with an eye on the Pakistan Parliamentary elections to be held early next year, the US must recognise that the political balance of power within the country may well shift.  The frustrated youth and urban educated elites of Pakistan have been captivated by the anti-corruption message of former cricketing legend turned politician, Imran Khan.  His rallies in Lahore and Karachi have attracted hundreds of thousands of ordinary Pakistanis.  A growing number are yearning for positive change.  They want an end to Berelvi (Sufi) shrines being bombed by radical Deobandi fanatics, economic prosperity, and their nation to be raised from the status of an international pariah state.  The US cannot afford to be caught out as it was, for a time, by the seismic events that took place across the Middle East last year. 

Laying the foundations for a stable Afghanistan by 2014 with Pakistan’s assistance is still achievable.  But it will require personal risk on the part of the President, whatever his political persuasion.  This is no time to be pusillanimous.  The situation demands a leader with the dexterity to strike a deal combined with a strategic vision for the region.  There might then still be one throw of the dice left in the Great Game.  

Ali Miraj was a member of the Conservative Party Commission on International and National Security 2005-2007

Barack Obama with Afghanistan's President Hamid Karzai, September 2011. Photo: Getty Images
Parliament TV screengrab
Show Hide image

MP Michelle Thomson's full speech on rape at 14: "I am a survivor"

The MP was attacked as a teenager. 

On Thursday, the independent MP for Edinburgh West Michelle Thomson used a debate marking the UN’s International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women to describe her own experience of rape. Thomson, 51, said she wanted to break the taboo among her generation about speaking about the subject.

MPs listening were visibly moved by the speech, and afterwards Thomson tweeted she was "overwhelmed" by the response. 

Here is her speech in full:

I am going to relay an event that happened to me many years ago. I want to give a very personal perspective to help people, both in this place and outside, understand one element of sexual violence against women.

When I was 14, I was raped. As is common, it was by somebody who was known to me. He had offered to walk me home from a youth event. In those days, everybody walked everywhere - it was quite common. It was early evening. It was not dark. I was wearing— I am imagining and guessing—jeans and a sweatshirt. I knew my way around where I lived - I was very comfortable - and we went a slightly differently way, but I did not think anything of it. He told me that he wanted to show me something in a wooded area. At that point, I must admit that I was alarmed. I did have a warning bell, but I overrode that warning bell because I knew him and, therefore, there was a level of trust in place. To be honest, looking back at that point, I do not think I knew what rape was. It was not something that was talked about. My mother never talked to me about it, and I did not hear other girls or women talking about it.

It was mercifully quick and I remember first of all feeling surprise, then fear, then horror as I realised that I quite simply could not escape, because obviously he was stronger than me. There was no sense, even initially, of any sexual desire from him, which, looking back again, I suppose I find odd. My senses were absolutely numbed, and thinking about it now, 37 years later, I cannot remember hearing anything when I replay it in my mind. As a former professional musician who is very auditory, I find that quite telling. I now understand that your subconscious brain—not your conscious brain—decides on your behalf how you should respond: whether you take flight, whether you fight or whether you freeze. And I froze, I must be honest.

Afterwards I walked home alone. I was crying, I was cold and I was shivering. I now realise, of course, that that was the shock response. I did not tell my mother. I did not tell my father. I did not tell my friends. And I did not tell the police. I bottled it all up inside me. I hoped briefly—and appallingly—that I might be pregnant so that that would force a situation to help me control it. Of course, without support, the capacity and resources that I had within me to process it were very limited.

I was very ashamed. I was ashamed that I had “allowed this to happen to me”. I had a whole range of internal conversations: “I should have known. Why did I go that way? Why did I walk home with him? Why didn’t I understand the danger? I deserved it because I was too this, too that.” I felt that I was spoiled and impure, and I really felt revulsion towards myself.

Of course, I detached from the child that I had been up until then. Although in reality, at the age of 14, that was probably the start of my sexual awakening, at that time, remembering back, sex was “something that men did to women”, and perhaps this incident reinforced that early belief.​
I briefly sought favour elsewhere and I now understand that even a brief period of hypersexuality is about trying to make sense of an incident and reframing the most intimate of acts. My oldest friends, with whom I am still friends, must have sensed a change in me, but because I never told them they did not know of the cause. I allowed myself to drift away from them for quite a few years. Indeed, I found myself taking time off school and staying at home on my own, listening to music and reading and so on.

I did have a boyfriend in the later years of school and he was very supportive when I told him about it, but I could not make sense of my response - and it is my response that gives weight to the event. I carried that guilt, anger, fear, sadness and bitterness for years.

When I got married 12 years later, I felt that I had a duty tell my husband. I wanted him to understand why there was this swaddled kernel of extreme emotion at the very heart of me, which I knew he could sense. But for many years I simply could not say the words without crying—I could not say the words. It was only in my mid-40s that I took some steps to go and get help.

It had a huge effect on me and it fundamentally - and fatally - undermined my self-esteem, my confidence and my sense of self-worth. Despite this, I am blessed in my life: I have been happily married for 25 years. But if this was the effect of one small, albeit significant, event in my life stage, how must it be for those women who are carrying it on a day-by-day basis?

I thought carefully about whether I should speak about this today, and it was people’s intake of breath and the comment, “What? You’re going to talk about this?”, that motivated me to do it, because there is still a taboo about sharing this kind of information. Certainly for people of my generation, it is truly shocking to talk in public about this sort of thing.

As has been said, rape does not just affect the woman; it affects the family as well. Before my mother died early of cancer, I really wanted to tell her, but I could not bring myself to do it. I have a daughter and if something happened to her and she could not share it with me, I would be appalled. It was possibly cowardly, but it was an act of love that meant that I protected my mother.

As an adult, of course I now know that rape is not about sex at all - it is all about power and control, and it is a crime of violence. I still pick up on when the myths of rape are perpetuated form a male perspective: “Surely you could have fought him off. Did you scream loudly enough?” And the suggestion by some men that a woman is giving subtle hints or is making it up is outrageous. Those assumptions put the woman at the heart of cause, when she should be at the heart of effect. A rape happens when a man makes a decision to hurt someone he feels he can control. Rapes happen because of the rapist, not because of the victim.

We women in our society have to stand up for each other. We have to be courageous. We have to call things out and say where things are wrong. We have to support and nurture our sisters as we do with our sons. Like many women of my age, I have on occasion encountered other aggressive actions towards me, both in business and in politics. But one thing that I realise now is that I am not scared and he was. I am not scared. I am not a victim. I am a survivor.

Julia Rampen is the editor of The Staggers, The New Statesman's online rolling politics blog. She was previously deputy editor at Mirror Money Online and has worked as a financial journalist for several trade magazines.