I have no personal investment in America’s Afghanistan war. My own service in Vietnam, now a half-century in the past, remains an abiding preoccupation, as does the more recent Iraq war, where my son was killed. But I feel no more emotional connection to America’s ‘longest war’ than to US efforts to pacify the Philippines at the turn of the 20th century. Even so, the abrupt collapse of the Afghan government and of the Afghan security forces over the course of a few days hit me hard. Rage, sadness, bewilderment, horror, humiliation: my emotional response cycled through all of these.
Then came the further debacle of the mismanaged evacuation from Kabul airport, punctuated by the terrorist attack of 26 August, which claimed the lives of an estimated 170 Afghans along with 13 US military personnel. For me, it was the 1980 failed hostage rescue at Desert One all over again.
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