America has historically struggled to train foreign militaries.
All that’s even before you get to the challenges of training soldiers, many of whom are illiterate or surmounting divisive ethnic, religious, or tribal distinctions.
In sum, the degree of difficulty is extraordinarily high. We ought perhaps to marvel that such programs ever succeed, not that they mostly fail.
But our efforts to train foreign militaries also fail because of shortcomings particular to American policy choices. The U.S. tends to undertake large-scale train-and-equip programs when we don’t want to do the fighting ourselves; that has been the story in Iraq and Afghanistan. But sending that signal heartens adversaries and weakens the very forces we’re attempting to help. We convey the limits of our intentions.
The same message is transmitted by assigning the training task solely to the military. The surges of military forces in both Iraq and Afghanistan were supposed to have civilian counterparts. Remember General Stanley McChrystal claiming that we were bringing “government in a box” to Afghanistan when he took over command of allied forces there? Neither surge, in Iraq or Afghanistan, delivered on its aims to strengthen civilian governance, which is essential for military training programs not to outpace and thereby undermine their civilian counterparts.
Many U.S. training programs are also unsuccessful because we engage in short-term deployments that make it difficult to establish long-term influence. American military leaders seldom have tours longer than two years, and it’s been common for many units to have six-to-nine-month rotations in Afghanistan. By contrast, Iran—a country very good at training foreign forces, having successfully done so in Iraq, Syria, and Lebanon, to name a few—has relationships spanning decades. About the only time the U.S. even begins to get traction on longer-term partnerships is when military students participate in American command and staff colleges, and those are few in number.
Many experts on security assistance argue for making U.S. military assistance conditional, denying further support unless the policies we advocate are taken up. This approach has three drawbacks. The first is that militaries we might want to influence would refuse. We’re not doing other countries a favor in providing assistance; we’re doing it so that we don’t have to fight their wars.
The second is that denying assistance has consequences for us: We want other militaries to be strong enough to control their own territory and contribute to international missions. They will be less capable of doing so without U.S. military training and assistance. If you think the Afghan security forces are showing weakness now, imagine how they would have fared without years of American tutelage. (Moreover, those militaries cut off from U.S. assistance are likely to get the help they need from other sources, creating relationships detrimental to our interests. Pakistan’s military is deeply anti-American in part because of us cutting off assistance after Islamabad’s nuclear test. They sought help elsewhere, and we’re still reaping the consequences of it.)
The third problem with conditionality is that scared people rarely make brave choices. American assistance gives them the heart and confidence to stand their ground. Baghdad strikes deals with Iranian-backed militias because it believes it has no better choice than to accommodate the threat in Iraq’s midst. Afghan forces are compromising with the Taliban or surrendering because they think they have no other option.
And before castigating Afghan forces for those choices, remember that more than 69,000 Afghan police and soldiers have already been killed by the Taliban. We shouldn’t be surprised that many think the situation is hopeless after our abandonment and are surrendering. We should be amazed and respectful that any have volunteered to fight.
https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2021/08/us-afghanistan-taliban-training/619774/