Steven Pressfield - The Afghan Campaign

CONTENTS

For Ruthie

Do you believe that so many nations accustomed to the name and rule of another, united with us neither by religion, nor customs, nor community of language, have been subdued in the same battle in which they were overcome? It is by your arms alone that they are restrained, not by their dispositions, and those who fear us when we are present, in our absence will be enemies. We are dealing with savage beasts, which lapse of time only can tame, when they are caught and caged, because their own nature cannot tame them. Accordingly, we must either give up what we have taken, or we must seize what we do not yet hold.

Alexander, addressing his troops
on the approach to Afghanistan
IN QUINTUS CURTIUS, History of Alexander

HISTORICAL NOTE

Alexanders Afghan campaign began in the summer of 330 B.C., when his army entered Artacoana (modern Herat), and continued until spring 327, when he departed Bactra (near contemporary Mazur-i-Sharif) and crossed the Hindu Kush into India.

The campaign was the lengthiest of Alexanders career and the most difficult he ever fought. His adversaries were not main-force armies, but free tribesmen of what is today Afghanistan and Turkmenistan, and horse warriors who inhabited the steppes and mountains that would become Uzbekistan and Tajikistan. Measures of barbarity were employed by both sides, unprecedented in prior campaigns, and the boundaries of warfare were stretched. Despite numerous victories, Alexander did not subdue the region until well into the third year, when he concluded an alliance with the warlord Oxyartes by taking to wife Oxyartes daughter Roxane.

The stubbornness of the opposition may be gauged from the fact that when Alexander moved on to India in 327, he left in Afghanistan no fewer than ten thousand infantry and 3500 cavalryfully a fifth of his armyto keep the country from reverting to insurgency.

For a glossary of slang used in this book, see page 353.

PROLOGUE

A Wedding in Asia

THE WAR IS OVER. Or it will be by sundown tonight, when Alexander takes to wife the Afghan princess Roxane.

Across the Plain of Sorrows, so named for the multitude of its burial grounds, the camps of the Macedonians sprawl flank-by-flank alongside those of the enemy. There must be half a thousand of the latter, those bivouacs the Afghans call tafiran (circles), each housing between fifty and five hundred men. Every tribe and clan from Artacoana to the Jaxartes has trekked in for the celebration, along with vendors and whores in thousands, tailors, seamstresses, acrobats, musicians, fortune-tellers. The whole Mack expeditionary force is here, including foreign units, horse and foot. Every captain and corporal parades in his finery, eager for the festivities. Except me and my mates Flag, Boxer, and Little Red. Weve still got work to do.

Give Alexander credit. By marrying the Afghan princess, he turns his most formidable foe, the warlord Oxyartes, into his father-in-law. No other stunt could have produced victory in this waror that state of affairs that can plausibly be passed off as victory.

So we shall have peace. I doubt that any cessation of hostilities has been longed for more ardently than this. A campaign that was supposed to take three months has dragged on with unbroken terror and brutality for almost three years. Those of us who came out from home as boys have become first men and then something closer to beasts or devils. The Afghans have suffered worse. Two hundred thousand dead, thats the figure you hear. I believe it. Hardly a village remains in this country that our troops havent leveled, or a city that we havent taken apart stone by stone.

So this wedding is much looked forward to. The deal between Alexander and Oxyartes is this: The warlord gives away his daughter and accepts our king as his sovereign. In return, Alexander anoints him First Kinsman and his own Royal Companion. This makes Oxyartes premier among all Bactrian barons and the biggest fish east of the Euphrates. Then we Macedonians pack up and leave. I dont know whos happierus to get out or the Afghans to see us go.

Im getting married tonight myself. Fourteen hundred Macks will be linking with Afghan girls in one collective ceremony. My brides name is Shinar. Its a long story; Ill tell it as we go along.

My mate Flag dismounts now outside the tent as I finish arming. Hes about forty and the hardest knot I know. He has taught me everything. I would march into hell at his side.

He enters dressed in formal military kit, for the wedding. I indicate his cloak. Youll be roasting in that thing.

Flag tugs back one wing. Beneath his left arm, a xiphos sword is strapped to his ribs. Hes got an Afghan long-knife lashed along one thigh and throwing-daggers inside both boots. He carries two more weapons in plain view, a ceremonial sword on a baldric and a nine-foot half-pike. These are for show. To give Baz (the name we Macedonians apply to any Afghan) something to fix his eyes on.

Boxer and Little Red have reined outside. In a few moments well make our way across the plain to the camp of the Aletai Pactyans. There, I will meet the brother of my bride and pay him off, an indemnity of honor, so he wont murder me and his sister. The price is four years wages and my best horse.

Such is Afghanistan. Only out here do you have to bribe a brother not to slaughter his own sister. Her crime: being with me.

Of course I suspect treachery. Thats what the weapons are for. In a way Im hoping for it. Otherwise, our own Mack code of philoxenia (love for the stranger) forbids me to take the life of one of the family I marry into. Im an idiot for still buying it, but there it is.

Atop the citadel, the crier calls. Two hours past noon. The Persian day starts at sundown. Thats when the wedding will take place. Lesser ceremonies have been going on all day. Late afternoon will be the military tattoo. The whole Mack army and all the Afghan clans and tribes will pass in review before Alexander, Roxane, and the dignitaries. The big wedding, the royal one, will take place in Chorienes palace atop the fortress of Bal Teghrib, Stone Mountain. The mass ceremony, the one where Shinar and I will get tied, takes place outdoors in the new stadium at the foot of the hill. When the weddings are over, the celebrations begin.

All right, says Flag. Lets go over this one more time.

Flag is by far our senior. His rank is Flag Sergeant. He has a personal name but Ive never heard anyone use it. We just call him by his rank.

He rehearses us in blocking moves. Whats critical is that Shinars brother and his two cousins not escape. They cant be allowed to break away or survive with wounds. Our blows must be fatal. These three are Shinars last male kin. No others stand under the obligation of nangwali, the Afghan code of honor, to see that justice is done. Brother and cousins slain, we can buy our way out of the crime. Money will patch it up. But these three must go down.

I am grateful to my comrades. This is serious peril that they undergo for my sake. Id do the same for them, and they know it. Theyll be embarrassed if I express gratitude overtly. When its over, if were all alive, Ill get each of them a woman or a horse.