Afgantsy: The Russians in Afghanistan, 1979-89 (2011) by Rodric Braithwaite

Before I deployed to Afghanistan in 2009 I read everything I could about the country and its fascinating, but remarkably violent history. I was particularly interested to learn more about the Soviet experience. However, there was precious little to be found outside of some War College books that were insightful but lacked an overall narrative arc to follow. “Afgantsy: The Russians in Afghanistan 1979-89” by former British ambassador to Russia, Rodric Braithwaite, is the book I had been looking for.

The book is broken up into more-or-less equal thirds. The first third of the book, “The Road to Kabul,” covers the Soviet decision to invade and the remarkable events of December 1979. Braitwaite punctuates several themes in this, the most detailed and chronological part of the narrative. First, the Russians had a very limited understanding of what was going on inside Afghanistan after the communist coup in 1978 despite long and deep connections in almost all aspects of Afghan political, military and economic life. In that regard, like so many other political-military disasters, the Soviet War in Afghanistan was primarily an intelligence failure.

Second, despite the intelligence weakness and contrary to popular wisdom, the Politburo was quite reluctant to get involved from the start, at least with a direct military role, and clearly understood the dangers and drawbacks of full scale intervention: a backward and predominantly rural country not at all suited for a communist government; the incredibly difficult and rugged terrain of the country; the immense influence and power of Islam over traditional Afghan society; Afghanistan’s long history of resistance to outside powers; the recent historical example of the US disaster in Vietnam; a weak and deeply fractured Afghan Communist Party leadership; and the inevitable repercussions on international relations, especially with the Muslim world and Western democracies.

Third, the Soviet leadership was able to overcome these reasons against intervention because they genuinely expected their military occupation to be limited and short-lived, thus the name given to the Russian military force in Afghanistan: the Limited Contingent of Soviet Forces in Afghanistan (OKSVA). It was the humiliation of being openly defied by a communist leader on their southern border that tilted the scales in the Politburo, Braithwaite argues. Once “their man,” the Parchamist Nur Muhammad Taraki, had been assassinated by the American-educated Khalqist Hafizullah Amin in September 1979, the Soviet leadership felt compelled to act. “Step by step,” Braitwaite writes, “with great reluctance, strongly suspecting that it would be a mistake, the Russians slithered towards a military intervention because they could not think of a better alternative.” Their objective was, in principle, rather limited and simple: “keeping Afghanistan orderly and friendly as a buffer on the southern border of the Soviet Union.”

Finally, the author stresses that the rivalry between the Army and the KGB along with a convoluted chain of command crippled Soviet operations in Afghanistan from start to finish. The task before them appeared clear and limited: “…put an end to the vicious feuding within the PDPA [Afghan Communist Party] and to force a radical change in the extreme and brutally counterproductive policies of the Communist government. The aim was not to occupy or take over the country. It was to secure the towns and the roads between them, and to withdraw as soon as the Afghan government and its armed forces were in a state to take over for themselves.” The author calls this aim “an impractical aspiration.”

In the second part of the book, “The Disasters of War,” Braithwaite claims that the Afghan War can be broken down into four phases: 1) December 1979 to February 1980 when the Soviets first deployed forces (casualty rate of 123 men a month); 2) March 1980 to April 1985 as both sides refined their tactics (Soviets lost 148 soldiers a month); 3) May 1985 to October 1986 as the Russians tried to confine their engagement to air and artillery operations in support of Afghan Army ground units (Russian losses of 137 a month); and 4) November 1986 to February 1989 as Afghan leader Najibullah took over from the ineffective Babrak Karmal and Soviet forces slowly withdrew (average monthly deaths dropped to 87). However, the story of the Soviet 40th Army in combat in Afghanistan as told by Braithwaite in thematic and not in anyway chronological. He writes about the composition of the army, attempts at nationbuilding, and the experience of the rank-and-file soldier. He does all of this with illuminating vignettes and personal reminiscences from Afghan vets, the “Afgantsy.” What struck me here were the salient differences between the Soviet experience in Afghanistan and our own (I served in Kandahar from October 2009 to September 2010).

First, the Russians faced a truly national insurgency. At some points, as many 250,000 mujahedin may have been actively engaged against the 150,000 strong 40th Army. Some of the most dangerous theaters of combat for the Russians, from the Pandsher Valley in the northeast to Herat in the southwest have been some of the most quiescent over the past decade of fighting. Indeed, the current Afghan war is really the Pashtun War, with the fighting largely restricted to the southern provinces of Helmand and Kandahar, with additional resistance along the eastern mountains of the Durand Line bordering Pakistan. The Tajik (north), Uzbek (west) and Hazara (central) areas of the country are generally safe. Today, a westerner could drive up the Pandsher Valley – the scene of 9 full Soviet offensives against Ahmad Shah Massoud – in a pickup truck without fear.

Second, the 40th Army was crippled by health issues. The author writes that their situation was analogous to that of the French and British armies in the Crimean War. “At any given moment up to a quarter, perhaps even a third, of the 40th Army might be incapacitated with disease.” Cholera, malaria, diphtheria and other diseases were rampant and there might be “only one nurse for every 300 patients.” Our medical facilities, by contrast, ranged from decent to exceptional; so long as you were careful about what you ate when off base and didn’t mind the smell of on base waste treatment you’d be fine.

Third, the Soviets did not have complete freedom of air maneuver. Even before the Stinger missile appeared in 1986 the mujahedin was able to hassle Russian air assets with a variety of weapons. The Soviets lost 333 helicopters and 113 fixed wing aircraft during the war. By comparison, NATO has lost 121 helicopters, but only 27 to hostile fire, and 38 fixed wing planes.

Finally, the Russians had alcohol and drugs – and evidently lots of it. Excessive drinking and drug addiction were seriously problematic for the 40th Army. No such issue confronted NATO’s International Security Assistance Force (ISAF). And the Russians also had a problem with desertion. Over 300 Red Army soldiers deserted, many of them from the Soviet Muslim minorities who ultimately joined up with the mujahedin to fight against their erstwhile comrades. In contrast, I believe that all of ISAF only a single case of desertion in Afghanistan, the American Sgt. Bowe Bergdahl.

The final third of “Afgantsy,” “The Long Goodbye,” chronicles the sad fate of many Afgantsy in post Soviet Russia, as soldiers returned home to a country on the brink of collapse, forgotten or even worse, despised for their role in a conflict the Congress of People’s Deputies of the Soviet Union in 1989 called “deserving of moral and political condemnation.” This post war reception is another notable difference between the Russian and American experience. I am proud of my service in Afghanistan and continue to receive regular expressions of respect and gratitude from my fellow citizens to this day. Sadly, the Russian veterans’ experience was far more akin to the fate of American Vietnam veterans.

In closing, I’d like to make one final comment on the contrast between OKSVA and ISAF. When I asked locals in Kandahar who lived through the Soviet occupation how the present day NATO forces compared to the Russians, the response was universally the same. The Russians were all about extremes; the 40th Army carried really big carrots and really big sticks. If you cooperated, you were showered with money and service project. If you resisted, your village would be pounded into dust. NATO, on the other hand, was viewed as more stingy with monetary and material largesse (which we often viewed as bribes, plain and simple), while our rules of engagement were far more restrictive than the Soviets. The locals feared us far less than the Russians. In the end, I’m not sure any of it mattered.