Cameron Abadi: The German Debate Over Afghanistan
[Cameron Abadi is associate editor of Foreign Policy.]
THIS PAST February, the Bundestag overwhelmingly approved the continuation of the German mission in Afghanistan just as it has done every year since 2003. But it was a vote marked by two palpable differences from previous votes. For the first time, the members of one political grouping—the Left Party—protested on the floor of parliament and were subsequently barred from participating in the debate. The second difference was psychological and had potentially much more far-reaching effects: the debate was unmistakably informed, as it had never been before, by the knowledge that the country is engaged in a war.
The euphemisms for the Afghanistan war have finally been exhausted; Germans finally admit that their soldiers are not involved in a “peacekeeping” or “stabilization” mission or even in “conditions that resemble war.” German soldiers are—in the words of the German foreign minister—fighting in an “armed conflict.”
For six years, German politicians have preferred to not discuss the Afghanistan project, and when discussion has been unavoidable, they have usually condescended to the pacifist sensibilities of the population. But over the course of the past year, Germans have been forced to face the hard truths of their nation’s military mission in Afghanistan. In northern Afghanistan—where the German government insisted its troops be sent because of its reputation for relative peace—the Taliban have regained confidence, and many German soldiers have encountered roadside bombs and sudden firefights. In addition, the German sense of innocence collapsed after a September 4 air strike that resulted in the deaths of dozens of Afghan civilians....
THE DEBATE in Germany over the war in Afghanistan is at once grounded in the resolutions of the UN Security Council and strangely parochial: It doesn’t line up with similar debates in other countries. Germans, for instance, have long assigned a totemic significance to the distinction between the NATO-led International Security Assistance Force (ISAF) mission and the American-led Operation Enduring Freedom (OEF)....
This stance may bewilder Americans—not least because they may remember that it was the Green Party’s own Joschka Fischer who, shortly after his 1999 swearing in as foreign minister, offered the most forthright moral defense for the NATO mission in Kosovo. “I didn’t just learn: never again war,” he said. “I also learned: never again Auschwitz.”...
If there is a consensus to be found in Germany on war, it diverges sharply from Fischer’s perspective and is most popularly expressed by a considerably less likely object of public affection. The ninety-year old Helmut Schmidt, chancellor of West Germany in the late 1970s, does not have Fischer’s counter-cultural credibility. But what Schmidt does enjoy is unquestioned authority. He has cultivated a persona of charismatic no-nonsense, and his record of stoic public service and his personal experience of eras long receded and repressed—including the Second World War when he served as an enlisted soldier in the Wehrmacht—make his return to politics appealing to many Germans.
Younger Germans listen carefully when Schmidt speaks. When asked at a recent public forum in Berlin what he thought of Germany’s participation in humanitarian wars, Schmidt said, “With the baggage of Auschwitz, carrying the Second World War on our backs, we should not be the ones preaching tolerance to other societies.” The applause was spontaneous and extended. An older generation’s wisdom reinforced by the prejudices of the young....
Read entire article at Dissent
THIS PAST February, the Bundestag overwhelmingly approved the continuation of the German mission in Afghanistan just as it has done every year since 2003. But it was a vote marked by two palpable differences from previous votes. For the first time, the members of one political grouping—the Left Party—protested on the floor of parliament and were subsequently barred from participating in the debate. The second difference was psychological and had potentially much more far-reaching effects: the debate was unmistakably informed, as it had never been before, by the knowledge that the country is engaged in a war.
The euphemisms for the Afghanistan war have finally been exhausted; Germans finally admit that their soldiers are not involved in a “peacekeeping” or “stabilization” mission or even in “conditions that resemble war.” German soldiers are—in the words of the German foreign minister—fighting in an “armed conflict.”
For six years, German politicians have preferred to not discuss the Afghanistan project, and when discussion has been unavoidable, they have usually condescended to the pacifist sensibilities of the population. But over the course of the past year, Germans have been forced to face the hard truths of their nation’s military mission in Afghanistan. In northern Afghanistan—where the German government insisted its troops be sent because of its reputation for relative peace—the Taliban have regained confidence, and many German soldiers have encountered roadside bombs and sudden firefights. In addition, the German sense of innocence collapsed after a September 4 air strike that resulted in the deaths of dozens of Afghan civilians....
THE DEBATE in Germany over the war in Afghanistan is at once grounded in the resolutions of the UN Security Council and strangely parochial: It doesn’t line up with similar debates in other countries. Germans, for instance, have long assigned a totemic significance to the distinction between the NATO-led International Security Assistance Force (ISAF) mission and the American-led Operation Enduring Freedom (OEF)....
This stance may bewilder Americans—not least because they may remember that it was the Green Party’s own Joschka Fischer who, shortly after his 1999 swearing in as foreign minister, offered the most forthright moral defense for the NATO mission in Kosovo. “I didn’t just learn: never again war,” he said. “I also learned: never again Auschwitz.”...
If there is a consensus to be found in Germany on war, it diverges sharply from Fischer’s perspective and is most popularly expressed by a considerably less likely object of public affection. The ninety-year old Helmut Schmidt, chancellor of West Germany in the late 1970s, does not have Fischer’s counter-cultural credibility. But what Schmidt does enjoy is unquestioned authority. He has cultivated a persona of charismatic no-nonsense, and his record of stoic public service and his personal experience of eras long receded and repressed—including the Second World War when he served as an enlisted soldier in the Wehrmacht—make his return to politics appealing to many Germans.
Younger Germans listen carefully when Schmidt speaks. When asked at a recent public forum in Berlin what he thought of Germany’s participation in humanitarian wars, Schmidt said, “With the baggage of Auschwitz, carrying the Second World War on our backs, we should not be the ones preaching tolerance to other societies.” The applause was spontaneous and extended. An older generation’s wisdom reinforced by the prejudices of the young....