The Light

A lone florescent bulb struggled to light the room, flashing on and off, giving a slight pinging sound as it did so.  “Ping . . . ping . . . ping,” the sound echoes off the bare, beige walls.  The light from the window provided enough to see, but the florescent bulb continued to try and assist, as if it knew the inadequate light gave the room a dinginess not suitable for a governmental office.  The décor in the room also failed to provide the appropriate stature.  It was populated with wooden furniture of a post-modern style that alluded to a 1970s bachelor pad in New York’s Greenwich village or San Francisco’s Haight-Ashbury neighborhood of hippies – a sort of hip, nouveau riche style appropriate for the age, but one that has long lost its luster and certainly not fit for a government office.  The cushions were of a thin, flat, unadorned variety that provided some function in lieu of style.  The wooden and glass coffee table had a distressed look borne of age and use rather than fashion – a small metallic plate bearing the red and white Maple Leaf flag affixed to its corner identified it as a gift from the Government of Canada, cementing the fact that the national government could not even provide suitable furniture for its offices to conduct business.

“Ping, ping, ping.”  The light continued its exercise in futility, serving as an appropriate metaphor for the meeting.  We were there to discuss developments in various pieces of legislation designed to modernize and strengthen rule of law.  The gentleman with whom we were meeting had a slight sophisticated air about him.  He wore a nice, tan colored suit with a bright blue and yellow tie.  His close-cropped beard, of the type most often seen with government officials and other well-to-do individuals here, compensated for his thinning hair.  He motioned for us to be seated on the couch and took a chair from the table and sat down to face us.  His choice of this seating arrangement immediately placed him on a level slightly higher than us; his slight slouch as he leaned back into his chair solidified his status among those of us in the room.  The scene had an air of ever so slight smugness as if he meant to convey an attitude that questioned why we outsiders would patronize him with our inquiries. 

“Ping, ping, ping.”  The frantic activity of the light betrayed the haughty demeanor of our host and seemed to suggest that the meeting needed a different tone.  As we made our way through the pleasantries and began sipping our tea, our host started to open up to our questions, perhaps intuitively hearing the unspoken suggestion of the light.  We asked about particular pieces of legislation in such a manner that conveyed our understanding of the difficulty of his job.  This caused him to sit up in his chair and then lean forward, as if he was sharing information not to be shared with others, as if he had found an ally.  He began to explain that he, along with others, had advised his Minister of methods of bringing their legislation into compliance with international law.  However, the Minister continually dismissed their advice and went his own way.  The Minister, he said, wanted to draft legislation using the older ways of doing things, while he and his allies looked toward the modern, European style.  It was a classic case of old-world meets new.  This information was consistent with reports I had from other sources, so I began to sympathize with him.  He then showed me a draft of one law that he had scrupulously worked on with the international community; I knew this because I was present at some of the working groups.  It was in complete compliance with international law, even if the international community didn’t get all they wanted out of the law.  However, the Minister had ripped it to shreds with commentary and red ink changes. 

This was disheartening to me, but seemed almost devastating to him.  Unfortunately, this is not an isolated event.  Throughout the Afghan government, and indeed the country, the forces of modernity continue to clash with those of the past.  While the past most certainly must be respected in some fashion, modernity must be permitted to give Afghanistan a chance to grow.  Stasis is not sustainable; the status quo will lose in an increasingly interconnected, fast-paced world.

“Ping, ping, ping,” the light continued with its seemingly Sisyphean task.  I looked at our host and saw that he was like the light.  He, like others across this country, is striving against the odds to do something, to accomplish something in spite of the odds.  I looked to the light again and thought that perhaps it just needed some assistance, a little twist to seat it properly in place.  Perhaps that is what Afghanistan needs, at least at some level, a little help to put it on the right track.  Some days that seems to be an impossible, idealistic dream but on other days one comes across a flickering light and there is hope.