Nancy Lindisfarne & Jonathan Neale, 17 August 2021

A lot of nonsense about Afghanistan is being written in Britain and the United States. Most of this nonsense hides a number of important truths.

First, the Taliban have defeated the United States.

Second, the Taliban have won because they have more popular support.

Third, this is not because most Afghans love the Taliban. It is because the American occupation has been unbearably cruel and corrupt.

Fourth, the War on Terror has also been politically defeated in the United States. The majority of Americans are now in favor of withdrawal from Afghanistan and against any more foreign wars.

Fifth, this is a turning point in world history. The greatest military power in the world has been defeated by the people of a small, desperately poor country. This will weaken the power of the American empire all over the world.

Sixth, the rhetoric of saving Afghan women has been widely used to justify the occupation, and many feminists in Afghanistan have chosen the side of the occupation. The result is a tragedy for feminism.

This article explains these points. Because this a short piece, we assert more than we prove. But we have written a great deal about gender, politics and war in Afghanistan since we did fieldwork there as anthropologists almost fifty years ago. We give links to much of this work at the end of this article, so you can explore our arguments in more detail.[1]

A military victory

This is a military and political victory for the Taliban. It is a military victory because the Taliban have won the war. For at least two years the Afghan government forces – the national army and the police – have been losing more people dead and wounded each month than they are recruiting. So those forces are shrinking.

Over the last ten years the Taliban have been taking control of more and more villages and some towns. In the last twelve days they have taken all the cities.

This was not a lightning advance through the cities and then on to Kabul. The people who took each city had long been in the vicinity, in the villages, waiting for the moment. Crucially, across the north the Taliban had been steadily recruiting Tajiks, Uzbeks and others.

This is also a political victory for the Taliban. No guerilla insurgency on earth can win such victories without popular support.

But perhaps support is not the right word. It is more that Afghans have had to choose sides. And more of the Afghan people have chosen to side with the Taliban than have chosen the American occupiers. Not all of them, just more of them.

More Afghans have also chosen to side with the Taliban than with the Afghan government of President Ashraf Ghani. Again, not all of them, but more than support Ghani. And more Afghans have chosen to side with the Taliban than with the old warlords. The defeat of Dostum in Sheberghan and Ismail Khan in Herat is stunning evidence of that.

The Taliban of 2001 were overwhelmingly Pushtuns, and their politics was Pushtun chauvinist. In 2021 Taliban fighters of many ethnicities have taken power in Uzbek and Tajik dominated areas.

The important exception is the Hazara dominated areas in the central mountains. We come back to this exception.

Of course, not all Afghans have chosen to side with the Taliban. This is a war against foreign invaders, but it is also a civil war. Many have fought for the Americans, the government or the warlords. Many more have made compromises with both sides to survive. And many others were not sure which side to take and are waiting with different mixtures of fear and hope to see what will happen.

Because this is a military defeat for American power, calls for Biden to do this or that are simply silly. If American troops had remained in Afghanistan, they would have had to surrender or die. This would be a even worse humiliation for American power than the current debacle. Biden, like Trump before him, was out of options.

Why so many Afghans chose the Taliban

The fact that more people have chosen the Taliban does not mean that most Afghans necessarily support the Taliban. It means that given the limited choices available, that is the choice they have made. Why?

The short answer is that the Taliban are the only important political organization fighting the American occupation, and most Afghans have come to hate that occupation.

It was not always thus. The US first sent bomber planes and a few troops to Afghanistan a month after 9/11. The US was supported by the forces of the Northern Alliance, a coalition of non-Pushtun warlords in the north of the country. But the soldiers and leaders of the Alliance were not actually prepared to fight alongside the Americans. Given the long history of Afghan resistance to foreign invasion, most recently to the Russian occupation from 1980 to 1987, that would just be too shameful.

On the other side, though, almost no one was prepared to fight to defend the Taliban government then in power. The troops of the Northern Alliance and the Taliban faced each other in a phony war. Then the US, the British and their foreign allies began to bomb.

The Pakistani military and intelligence services negotiated an end to the stalemate. The United States would be allowed to take power in Kabul and install a president of their choice. In return, the Taliban leaders and rank and file would be allowed to go home to their villages or into exile across the border in Pakistan.

This settlement was not widely publicized in the US and Europe at the time, for obvious reasons, but we reported on it, and it was widely understood in Afghanistan.

For best evidence for this negotiated settlement is what happened next. For two years there was no resistance to the American occupation. None, in any village. Many thousands of former Taliban remained in those villages.

This is an extraordinary fact. Think of the contrast with Iraq, where resistance was widespread from Day One of the occupation in 2003. Or think of the Russian invasion of Afghanistan in 1979, met with the same wall of anger.

The reason was not simply that the Taliban were not fighting. It was that ordinary people, even in the Taliban heartland in the south, dared to hope that the American occupation would bring Afghanistan peace and develop the economy to end the terrible poverty.

Peace was crucial. By 2001 Afghans had been trapped in war for twenty-three years, first a civil war between communists and Islamists, then a war between Islamists and Soviet invaders, then a war between Islamist warlords, and then a war in the north of the country between Islamist warlords and the Taliban.

Twenty-three years of war meant death, maiming, exile and refugee camps, poverty, so many kinds of grief, and endless fear and anxiety. Perhaps the best book about what that felt like is Klaits and Gulmanadova Klaits, Love and War in Afghanistan (2005). People were desperate for peace. By 2001 even Taliban supporters felt a bad peace was better than a good war.

Also, the United States was fabulously rich. Afghans believed the occupation could lead to development that would rescue them from poverty.

Afghans waited. The US delivered war, not peace.

The US and UK military occupied bases throughout the villages and small towns of the Taliban heartland, the mainly Pushtun areas of the south and east. These units were never told of the informal settlement negotiated between the Americans and the Taliban. They could not be told, because that would shame the government of President Bush. So the US units saw it as their mission to root out the remaining “bad guys”, who were obviously still there.

Night raids crashed through doors, humiliating and terrifying families, taking men away to be tortured for info about the other bad guys. It was here, and in black sites all over the world, that the American military and intelligence developed the new styles of torture that the world would briefly glimpse from Abu Ghraib, the American prison in Iraq.

Some of the men detained were Taliban who had not been fighting. Some were just people betrayed to the Americans by local enemies who coveted their land or held a grudge.

The American soldier Johnny Rico’s memoir Blood Makes the Grass Grow Green provides a useful account of what then happened next. Outraged relatives and villagers took a few potshots at the Americans in the dark. The American military kicked in more doors and tortured more men. The villagers took more potshots. The Americans called in airstrikes and their bombs killed family after family.

War returned across the south and east of the country.  

Inequality and corruption spiraled.

Afghans had hoped for development that could lift both the rich and the poor. It seemed like such an obvious, and such an easy thing to do. But they did not understand American policy abroad. And they did not understand the deep dedication of the 1% in the United States to spiraling inequality in their own country.

So American money poured into Afghanistan. But it went the people in the new government headed by Hamid Karzai. It went to the people working with the Americans and the occupying troops of other nations. And it went to the warlords and their entourages who were deeply involved in the international opium and heroin trade facilitated by the CIA and the Pakistani military. It went to the people lucky enough to own luxury, well-defended homes in Kabul they could rent out to expatriate staff. It went to the men and women who worked in foreign-funded NGOs.

Of course people in these groups all overlapped.

Afghans had long been used to corruption. They both expected it and hated it. But this time the scale was unprecedented. And in the eyes of the poor and middle income people, all the obscene new wealth, no matter how garnered, seemed to be corruption.

Over the last decade the Taliban have offered two things across the country. The first is that they are not corrupt, as they were also not corrupt in office before 2001. They are the only political force in the country this has ever been true of.

Critically, the Taliban have run an honest judicial system in the rural areas they have controlled. Their reputation is so high that many people involved in civil lawsuits in the cities have agreed that both parties will go to Taliban judges in the countryside. This allows them swift, cheap and fair justice without massive bribes. Because the justice was fair, both parties can live with it.

For people in Taliban-controlled areas, fair justice was also a protection against inequality. When the rich can bribe the judges, they can do anything they want to the poor. Land was the crucial thing. Rich and powerful men, warlords and government officials could seize or steal or cheat their way into control of the land of small farmers, and oppress the even poorer sharecroppers. But Taliban judges, everyone understood, were willing to rule for the poor.

Hatred of corruption, of inequality, and of the occupation merged together.

20 Years On

2001, when the Taliban fell to the Americans after 9/11, is twenty years ago now. Enormous changes happen to political mass movements over twenty years of war and crisis. The Taliban have learned and changed. How could it be otherwise. Many Afghans, and many foreign experts, have commented on this. Giustozzi has used the useful phrase neo-Taliban.[2]

This change, as publicly presented, has several aspects. The Taliban have realized that Pushtun chauvinism was a great weakness. They now emphasize that they are Muslims, brothers to all other Muslims, and that they want and have the support of Muslims of many ethnic groups.

But there has been a bitter split in Taliban forces over the last few years. A minority of Taliban fighters and supporters have allied themselves with Islamic State. The difference is that Islamic State launch terror attacks on Shias, Sikhs and Christians. The Taliban in Pakistan do the same, and so do the small Haqqani network sponsored by Pakistani intelligence. But the Taliban majority have been reliable in condemning all such attacks.

We return to this division later, as it has implications for what will happen next.

The new Taliban have also emphasized their concerns for the rights of women. They say they welcome music, and videos, and have moderated the fiercest and most puritanical sides of their former rule. And they are now saying over and over again that they want to rule in peace, without revenge on the people of the old order.

How much of this is propaganda, and how much is truth, is hard to tell. Moreover, what happens next is deeply dependent on what happens to the economy, and on the actions of foreign powers. Of that, more later. Our point here is that Afghans have reasons for choosing the Taliban over the Americans, the warlords and Ashraf Ghani’s government.

What About Rescuing Afghan Women?

Many readers will now be feeling, insistently, but what about Afghan women? The answer is not simple.

We have to start by going back to the 1970s. Around the world, particular systems of gendered inequality are entangled with a particular system of class inequality. Afghanistan was no different.

Nancy did anthropological fieldwork with Pushtun women and men in the north of the country in the early 1970s. They lived by farming and herding animals. Nancy’s subsequent book, Bartered Brides: Politics and Marriage in a Tribal Society, explains the connections between class, gender and ethnic divisions at that time. And if you want to know what those women themselves thought about their lives, troubles and joys, Nancy and her former partner Richard Tapper have recently published Afghan Village Voices, a translation of many of the tapes that women and men made for them in the field.

That reality was complex, bitter, oppressive and full of love. In that deep sense, it was no different from the complexities of sexism and class in the United States. But the tragedy of the next half century would change much of that. That long suffering produced the particular sexism of the Taliban, which is not an automatic product of Afghan tradition.

The history of this new turn starts in 1978. Then civil war began between the communist government and the Islamist mujahedin resistance. The Islamists were winning, so the Soviet Union invaded late in 1979 to back up the Communist government. Seven years of brutal war between the Soviets and the mujahedin followed. In 1987 the Soviet troops left, defeated.

When we lived in Afghanistan, in the early 1970s, the communists were among the best people. They were driven by three passions. They wanted to develop the country. They wanted to break the power of the big landowners and share out the land. And they wanted equality for women.

But in 1978 the communists had taken power in a military coup, led by progressive officers. They had not won the political support of the majority of villagers, in an overwhelming rural country. The result was that the only ways they could deal with the rural Islamist resistance were arrest, torture and bombing. The more the communist led army did such cruelties, the more the revolt grew.

Then the Soviet Union invaded to prop up the communists. Their main weapon was bombing from the air, and large parts of the country became free fire zones. Between half a million and a million Afghans were killed. At least another million were maimed for life. Between six and eight million were driven into exile in Iran and Pakistan, and millions more became internal refugees. All this in a country of only twenty-five million people.

When they came to power, the first thing the communists tried to do were land reform and legislation for the rights of women. When the Russians invaded, the majority of communists sided with them. Many of those communists were women. The result was to smear the name of feminism with support for torture and massacre.

Imagine that the United States was invaded by a foreign power who killed between twelve million and twenty-four million Americans, tortured people in every town, and drove 100 million Americans into exile. Imagine also that almost all feminists in the United States supported the invaders. After that experience, how do you think most Americans would feel about a second invasion by another foreign power, or about feminism?

How do you think most Afghan women feel about another invasion, this time by the Americans, justified by the need to rescue Afghan women? Remember, those statistics about the dead, the maimed and the refugees under Soviet occupation were not abstract numbers. They were living women, and their sons and daughters, husbands, brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers.

So when the Soviet Union left, defeated, most people breathed a sigh of relief. But then the local leaders of the mujahedin resistance to the communists and the invaders became local warlords and fought each other for the spoils of victory. The majority of Afghans had supported the mujahedin, but now they were disgusted by the greed, the corruption and the endless useless war.

The Class and Refugee Background of the Taliban

In the autumn of 1994, the Taliban had arrived in Kandahar, a mostly Pashtun city and the largest in southern Afghanistan. The Taliban were like nothing before in Afghan history. They were products of two quintessentially twentieth century innovations, aerial bombing and the refugee camps in Pakistan. They belonged to a different social class from the elites who had governed Afghanistan.

The Communists had been the sons and daughters of the urban middle classes and the middle level farmers in the countryside with enough land to call their own. They had been led by people who attended the country’s sole university in Kabul. They wanted to break the power of the big landowners and modernize the country.

The Islamists who fought the Communists had been men of similar class backgrounds, and mostly former students at the same university. They too wanted to modernize the country, but in a different way. And they looked to the ideas of the Muslim Brotherhood and Al-Alzhar University in Cairo.

The word Taliban means students in an Islamic school, not a state school or a university. The fighters of the Taliban who entered Kandahar in 1994 were young men who had studied in the free Islamic schools in the refugee camps in Pakistan. They had been children with nothing.

The leaders of the Taliban were village mullahs from Afghanistan. They did not have the elite connections of many of the imams of city mosques. Village mullahs could read, and they were held in some respect by other villagers. But their social status was well below that of a landlord, or a high school graduate in a government office.

The Taliban were led by a committee of twelve men. All twelve had lost a hand, a foot or an eye to Soviet bombs in the war. The Taliban were, among other things, the party of poor and middling Pushtun village men. [3]

Twenty years of war had left Kandahar lawless and at the mercy of warring militias. The turning point came when the Taliban went after a local commander who had raped a boy and two (possibly three) women. The Taliban caught and hung him. What made their intervention striking was not just their determination to put an end to the murderous infighting and restore people’s dignity and safety, but their disgust at the hypocrisy of the other Islamists.

From the first the Taliban were funded by the Saudis, the Americans and the Pakistani military. Washington wanted a peaceful country that could house oil and gas pipelines from Central Asia. The Taliban stood out because they brooked no exceptions to the injunctions they sought to impose, and the severity with which they enforced the rules.

Many Afghans were grateful for the return of order and a modicum of security, but the Taliban were sectarian and unable to control the country, and, in 1996, the Americans withdrew their support. When they did so, they unleashed a new, and deadly, version of Islamophobia against the Taliban.

Almost overnight, Afghan women were deemed helpless and oppressed, while Afghan men – aka the Taliban – were execrated as fanatical savages, paedophiles and sadistic patriarchs, hardly people at all.

For four years before 9/11 the Taliban had been targeted by the Americans, while feminists and others clamored for the protection of Afghan women. By the time the American bombing started, everyone was meant to understand that the Afghan women needed help. What could possibly go wrong?

9/11 and the American War

The bombing began on October 7th. Within days, the Taliban had been forced into hiding – or were literally castrated – as a photograph on the front page of the Daily Mail crowed. The published images of the war were truly shocking in the violence and sadism they portrayed. Many people in Europe were appalled by the scale of the bombing and the utter carelessness of Afghan lives.[4]

Yet in the United States that autumn, the mixture of vengeance and patriotism meant dissenting voices were rare and mostly inaudible. Ask yourself, as Saba Mahmood did at the time, ‘Why were conditions of war, (migration, militarization) and starvation (under the mujahideen) considered to be less injurious to women than the lack of education, employment and most notably, in the media campaign, western dress styles (under the Taliban)?’ [5]

Then ask again even more fiercely – how could you possibly ‘save Afghan women’ by bombing a civilian population that included, along with the women themselves, their children, their husbands, fathers and brothers? It should have been the question that ended the argument, but it was not.

The most egregious expression of feminist Islamophobia came little over a month into the war. A vastly unequal war of revenge doesn’t look very good in the eyes of the world, so better to be doing something that looks virtuous. In anticipation of the American Thanksgiving holiday, on the 17th of November 2001, Laura Bush, the President’s wife, loudly lamented the plight of the veiled Afghan women. Cherie Blair, the British Prime Minister’s wife echoed her sentiments a few days later. These wealthy war-mongers’ wives were using the full weight of the Orientalist paradigm to blame the victims and justify a war against some of the poorest people on earth. And ‘Saving Afghan Women’ became the persistent cry of many liberal feminists to justify the American war.[6]

With the election of Obama in 2008, the chorus of Islamophobia became hegemonic among American liberals. That year the American anti-war alliance effectively dissolved itself to aid Obama’s campaign. Democrats and those feminists who supported Obama’s war hawk Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton, could not accept the truth that Afghanistan and Iraq were both wars for oil.[7]

They had only one justification for the endless wars of oil – the sufferings of Afghan women. The feminist spin was a clever ploy. It precluded comparisons between the undoubted sexist rule of the Taliban and sexisms in the United States. Far more shocking, the feminist spin domesticated and effectively displaced the ugly truths about a grossly unequal war. And it separated those notional ‘women to be saved’ from the tens of thousands of actual Afghan women, and men and children killed, wounded, orphaned or made homeless and hungry by the American bombs.

Many of our friends and family members in America are feminists who believed with decent hearts much of this propaganda. But they were being asked to support was a web of lies, a perversion of feminism. It was the feminism of the invader and the corrupt governing elite. It was the feminism of the torturers and the drones.

We believe another feminism is possible.

But it remains true that the Taliban are deeply sexist. Sexism has won a victory in Afghanistan. But it did not have to be that way.

The communists who sided with the cruelties of the Soviet invaders had discredited feminism in Afghanistan for at least a generation. But then the United States invaded, and a new generation of Afghan women professionals sided with the new invaders to try to win rights for women. Their dream too has ended in collaboration, shame and blood. Some were careerists, of course, mouthing platitudes in exchange for funding. But many others were motivated by an honest and selfless dream. Their failure is tragic.

Stereotypes and Confusions

Outside Afghanistan, there is a great deal of confusion about stereotypes of the Taliban elaborated over the last twenty-five years. But think carefully when you hear the stereotypes that they are feudal, brutal and primitive. These are people with laptops, who have been negotiating with the Americans in Qatar for the last fourteen years.

The Taliban are not the product of medieval times. They are the product of some of the worst times of the late twentieth century and early twenty-first century. If they look backward in some ways to an imagined better time, that is not surprising. But they have been moulded by life under aerial bombardment, refugee camps, communism, the War of Terror, enhanced interrogation, climate change, internet politics and the spiralling inequality of neoliberalism. They live, like everyone else, now.

Their roots in a tribal society can also be confusing. But as Richard Tapper has argued, tribes are not atavistic institutions. They are the way that peasants in this part of the world organise their entanglement with the state. And the history of Afghanistan has never been simply a matter of competing ethnic groups, but rather of complex alliances across groups and divisions within groups.[8]

There is a set of prejudices on the left which incline some people to ask how the Taliban could be on the side of the poor and anti-imperialist if they are not “progressive”. Leave aside for the moment that the word progressive means little. Of course the Taliban are hostile to socialism and communism. They themselves, or their parents or grandparents, were killed and tortured by socialists and communists. Moreover, any movement that has fought a twenty-year guerrilla war and defeated a great empire is anti-imperialist, or words have no meaning.

Reality is what it is. The Taliban are a movement of poor peasants, against an imperial occupation, deeply misogynist, supported by many women, sometimes racist and sectarian, and sometimes not. That’s a bundle of contradictions produced by history.

Another source of confusion is the class politics of the Taliban. How can they be on the side of the poor, as they obviously are, and yet so bitterly opposed to socialism? The answer is that the experience of the Russian occupation stripped away the possibility of socialist formulations about class. But it did not change the reality of class. No one has ever built a mass movement among poor peasants that took power without being seen as on the side of the poor.

The Taliban talk not in the language of class, but in the language of justice and corruption. Those words describe the same side.

None of this means that the Taliban will necessarily rule in the interests of the poor. We have seen enough peasant revolts come to power in the last century and more, only to become governments by urban elites. And none of this should distract from the truth that the Taliban intend to be dictators, not democrats.

A Historic Change in America

The fall of Kabul marks a decisive defeat for American power around the world. But it also marks, or makes clear, a deep turning away from the American empire among Americans.

One piece of evidence is the opinion polls. In 2001, right after 9/11, between 85% and 90% of Americans approved of the invasion of Afghanistan. The numbers have been dropping steadily. Last month, 62% of Americans approved of Biden’s plan for total withdrawal, and 29% were opposed.

This rejection of the war is common on both the right and the left. The working class base of the Republican Party and Trump are against foreign wars. Many soldiers and military families come from the rural areas and the south where Trump is strong. They are against any more wars, for it is they and those they loved who served, died and were wounded.

Right wing patriotism in America now is pro-military, but that means pro-soldier, not pro-war. When they say ‘Make America Great Again’, they mean that America is not great now for Americans, not that the US should be more engaged in the world.

Among Democrats, too, the working class base is against the wars.

There are people who support further military intervention. They are the Obama democrats, the Romney republicans, the generals, many liberal and conservative professionals, and almost everyone in the Washington elite. But the American people as a whole, and especially the working class, black, brown and white, have turned against the American Empire.

After the fall of Saigon, the American government was unable to launch major military interventions for the next fifteen years. It may well be longer after the fall of Kabul.

The International Consequences

Since 1918, 103 years ago, the United States has been the most powerful nation in the world. There have been competing powers – first Germany and Japan, then the Soviet Union and now China. But the US has been dominant. That ‘American Century’ is now coming to an end.

The long-term reason is the economic rise of China and the relative economic decline of the United States. But the covid pandemic and the Afghan defeat make the last two years a turning point.

The covid pandemic has revealed the institutional incompetence of the ruling class, and the government, of the United States. The system has failed to protect the people. This chaotic and shameful failure is obvious to people around the world.

Then there’s Afghanistan. If you judge by expenditure and hardware the United States is overwhelmingly the dominant military power globally. That power has been defeated by poor people in sandals in a small country who have nothing but endurance and courage.

The Taliban victory will also give heart to Islamists of many different sorts in Syria, Yemen, Somalia, Pakistan, Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan, Tajikistan and Mali. But it will be true more widely than that.

Both the covid failure and the Afghan defeat will reduce the soft power of the US. But Afghanistan is also a defeat for hard power. The strength of the informal empire of the United States has relied for a century on three different pillars. One is being the largest economy in the world, and domination of the global financial system. The second is a reputation in many quarters for democracy, competence and cultural leadership. The third was that if soft power failed, the United States would invade to support dictatorships and punish its enemies.

That military power is gone now. No government will believe that the US can rescue them from a foreign invader, or from their own people. Drone killings will continue and cause great suffering. But nowhere will drones on their own be militarily decisive.

This is the beginning of the end of the American century.

What Happens Now?

No one knows what will happen in Afghanistan in the next few years. But we can identify some of the pressures.

First, and most hopeful, is the deep longing for peace in the hearts of Afghans. They have now lived through forty-three years of war. Think how only five or ten years of civil war and invasion have scarred so many countries. Now think of forty-three years.

Kabul, Kandahar and Mazar, the three most important cities, have all fallen without any violence. This is because the Taliban, as they keep saying, want a country at peace, and they do not want revenge. But it is also because the people who do not support, indeed those who hate the Taliban, also chose not to fight.

The Taliban leaders are clearly aware they must deliver peace.

For that it is also essential that the Taliban continue to deliver fair justice. Their record is good. But the temptations and pressures of government have corrupted many social movements in many countries before them.

Economic collapse is also quite possible. Afghanistan is a poor and arid country, where less than 5% of the land can be farmed. In the last twenty years the cities have swelled immensely. That growth has been dependent on money flowing from the occupation, and to a lesser extent money from growing opium. Without very substantial foreign aid from somewhere, economic collapse will threaten.

Because the Taliban know this, they have been explicitly offering the United States a deal. The Americans will give aid, and in return the Taliban will not provide a home for terrorists who could launch attacks like 9/11. Both the Trump and Biden administrations have accepted this deal. But it is not at all clear that the US will keep that promise.

Indeed, something worse is entirely possible. Previous US administrations have punished Iraq, Iran, Cuba and Vietnam for their defiance with long running and destructive economic sanctions. There will be many voices raised in the US for such sanctions, to starve Afghan children in the name of human rights.

Then there is the threat of international meddling, of different powers supporting different political or ethnic forces inside Afghanistan. The United States, India, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, Iran, China, Russia and Uzbekistan will all be tempted. It has happened before, and in a situation of economic collapse it could provoke proxy wars.

For the moment, though, the governments of Iran, Russia and Pakistan clearly want peace in Afghanistan.

The Taliban have also promised not to rule with cruelty. That is easier said than done. Confronted with families who have amassed great fortunes through corruption and crime, what do you think the poor soldiers from the villages will want to do?

And then there is climate. In 1971 a drought and famine across the north and center devastated flocks, crops and lives. It was the first sign of the effects of climate change on the region, which has brought further droughts over the last fifty years. Over the medium and long term, farming and herding will become more precarious.[9]

All these dangers are real. But the often insightful security expert Antonio Giustozzi is in touch with the thinking among both the Taliban and foreign governments and the Taliban. His article in The Guardian on August 16 was hopeful. He ended it:

Since most of the neighbouring countries want stability in Afghanistan, at least for the time being any fissures in the new coalition government are unlikely to be exploited by external actors to create rifts. Similarly, the 2021 losers will struggle to find anybody willing or able to support them in starting some kind of resistance. As long as the new coalition government includes key allies of its neighbours, this is the beginning of a new phase in the history of Afghanistan.[10]

What Can You Do? Welcome Refugees.

Many people in the West now are asking, “What can we do to help Afghan women?” Sometimes this question assumes that most Afghan women oppose the Taliban, and most Afghan men support them. This is nonsense. It is almost impossible to imagine the kind of society in which that would be true.

But there is a narrower question here. Specifically, how can they help Afghan feminists?

This is a valid and decent question. The answer is to organize to buy them airplane tickets and give them refuge in Europe and North America.

But it is not just feminists who will need asylum. Tens of thousands of people who worked for the occupation are desperate for asylum, with their families. So are larger numbers of people who worked for the Afghan government.

Some of these people are admirable, some are corrupt monsters, many lie in between, and many are just children. But there is a moral imperative here. The United States and the NATO countries have created immense suffering for twenty years. The least, the very least, they should do it rescue the people whose lives they have wrecked.

There is another moral issue here too. What many Afghans have learned in the last forty years has also been clear in the last decade of the torment of Syria. It is all too easy to understand the accidents of background and personal history which lead people to do the things they do. Humility compels us to look at the young communist woman, the educated feminist working for an NGO, the suicide bomber, the American marine, the village mullah, the Taliban fighter, the bereaved mother of a child killed by American bombs, the Sikh money changer, the policeman, the poor farmer growing opium, and to say, there but for the grace of God go I.

The failure of the American and British governments to rescue the people who worked for them has been both shameful and revealing. It is not really a failure, but a choice. Racism against immigration has weighed more strongly with Johnson and Biden than the debts of humanity.

Campaigns to welcome Afghans are still possible. Of course such a strong moral argument will come up against racism and Islamophobia at every turn. But in the last week the governments of Germany and Netherlands have both suspended any deportations of Afghans.

Every politician, anywhere, who speaks in support of Afghan women must be asked, again and again, to open the borders to all Afghans.

And then there is what might happen to the Hazaras. As we have said, the Taliban have stopped being simply a Pushtun movement and have gone national, recruiting many Tajiks and Uzbeks. And also, they say, some Hazaras. But not many.

The Hazaras are the people who traditionally lived in the central mountains. Many also migrated to cities like Mazar and Kabul, where they worked as porters and in other low paid jobs. They are about 15% of the Afghan population. The roots of enmity between Pushtuns and Hazaras lie partly in long standing disputes over land and rights to grazing.

But more recently it also matters a good deal that Hazaras are Shias, and almost all other Afghans are Sunnis.

The bitter conflicts between Sunnis and Shias in Iraq have led to a split in the militant Islamist tradition. This split is complicated, but important, and needs a bit of explanation.

In both Iraq and in Syria the Islamic State have committed massacres against Shias, just as Shia militias have massacred Sunnis in both countries.

The more traditional Al Qaeda networks have remained staunchly opposed to attacking Shias and argued for solidarity between Muslims. People often point out that Osama Bin Laden’s mother was herself a Shia – actually an Alawite from Syria. But the necessity of unity has been more important. This was the main issue in the split between Al Qaeda and the Islamic State.

In Afghanistan the Taliban have also argued strongly for Islamic unity. The sexual exploitation of women by Islamic State is also deeply repugnant to Taliban values, which are deeply sexist but puritanical and modest. For many years the Afghan Taliban have been consistent in their public condemnation of all terror attacks on Shias, Christians and Sikhs.

Yet those attacks happen. The ideas of Islamic State have had a particular influence on the Pakistani Taliban. The Afghan Taliban are an organization. The Pakistani Taliban are a looser network, not controlled by the Afghans. They have carried out repeated bombings against Shias and Christians in Pakistan.

It is Islamic State and the Haqqani network who have carried out the recent racist terror bombings of Hazaras and Sikhs in Kabul. The Taliban leadership have condemned all those attacks.

But the situation is in flux. Islamic State in Afghanistan is a minority breakaway from the Taliban, largely based in Ningrahar province in the east. They are bitterly anti-Shia. So are the Haqqani network, a long-standing mujahedin group largely controlled by Pakistani military intelligence. Yet in the present mix, the Haqqani network have been integrated into the Taliban organization, and their leader is one of the leaders of the Taliban.

But no one can be sure what the future holds. In 1995 an uprising of Hazara workers in Mazar prevented the Taliban gaining control of the north. But Hazara traditions of resistance go much deeper and further back than that.

Hazara refugees in neighboring countries may also be in danger now. The government of Iran are allying with the Taliban, and begging them to be peaceful. They are doing this because there are about three million Afghan refugees already in Iran. Most of them have been there for years, most are poor urban workers and their families, and the majority are Hazaras. Recently the Iranian government, in desperate economic straights themselves, have begun deporting Afghans back to Afghanistan.

There are about a million Hazara refugees in Pakistan too. In the region around Quetta more than 5,000 of them have been killed in sectarian assassinations and massacres in the last few years. The Pakistani police and army do nothing. Given the long support of the Pakistani army and intelligence for the Afghan Taliban, those people will be at greater risk right now.

What should you do, outside Afghanistan? Like most Afghans, pray for peace. And join protests for open borders.

We will leave the last word to Graham Knight. His son, Sergeant Ben Knight of the British Royal Air Force, was killed in Afghanistan in 2006. This week Graham Knight told the Press Association the UK government should have moved quickly to rescue civilians:

 “We’re not surprised that the Taliban have taken over because as soon as the Americans and the British said they were going to leave, we knew this was going to happen. The Taliban made their intent very clear that, as soon as we went out, they would move in.

As for whether people’s lives were lost through a war that wasn’t winnable, I think they were. I think the problem was we were fighting people that were native to the country. We weren’t fighting terrorists, we were fighting people who actually lived there and didn’t like us being there.” [11]

REFERENCES

Fluri, Jennifer L. and Rachel Lehr. 2017. The Carpetbaggers of Kabul and Other American-Afghan Entanglements. Athens OH: University of Georgia Press.

Giustozzi, Antonio. 2007. Koran, Kalashnikov and Laptop: The Neo-Taliban Insurgency in Afghanistan. London: Hurst.

—, ed. 2009. Decoding the New Taliban: Insights from the Afghan Field. London: Hurst.

—, 2021. ‘The Taliban have retaken Afghanistan – this time, how will they rule it?’ The Guardian, August 16.

Gregory, Thomas. 2011. ‘Rescuing the Women of Afghanistan: Gender, Agency and the Politics of Intelligibility.’University of Manchester PhD thesis.

Hirschkind, Charles and Saba Mahmood. 2002. ‘Feminism, the Taliban and the Politics of Counterinsurgency.’ Anthropological Quarterly, 75(2): 339-354.  

Hughes, Dana. 2012. ‘The First Ladies Club: Hillary Clinton and Laura Bush for the Women of Afghanistan.’ ABC News, March 21.

Jalalzai, Zubeda and David Jefferess, eds. 2011. Globalizing Afghanistan: Terrorism, War, and the Rhetoric of Nation Building. Durham: Duke University Press.

Klaits, A. & G. Gulmanadova-Klaits. 2005. Love and War in Afghanistan, New York: Seven Stories.

Kolhatkar, Sonali and James Ingalls. 200. Bleeding AfghanistanWashington, Warlords, and the Propaganda of Silence. New York: Seven Stories.

Lindisfarne, Nancy. 2002a. ‘Gendering the Afghan War.’ Eclipse: The Anti-War Review, 4: 2-3.

—. 2002b. ‘Starting from Below: Fieldwork. Gender and Imperialism Now.’ Critique of Anthropology, 22(4): 403-423, and in Armbruster and Laerke, 23-44.

—. 2012. ‘Exceptional Pashtuns?’ Class Politics, Imperialism and Historiography.’ In Marsden and Hopkins.

Lindisfarne, Nancy and Jonathan Neale, 2015. ‘Oil Empires and Resistance in Afghanistan, Iraq and Syria.’ Anne Bonny Pirate.

—. 2019. ‘Oil, Heat and Climate Jobs in the MENA Region.’ In Environmental Challenges in the MENA Region: The Long Road from Conflict to Cooperation, edited by Hamid Pouran and Hassan Hakimian, 72-94. London: Ginko.

Manchanda, Nivi. 2020. Imagining Afghanistan: The History and Politics of Imperial Knowledge. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Marsden, Magnus and Benjamin Hopkins, eds. 2012. Beyond Swat: History, Society and Economy along the Afghanistan-Pakistan Frontier. London: Hurst.

Mihailovič, Konstantin. 1975. Memoirs of a Janissary. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press.

Mount, Ferdinand. 2008. Cold Cream: My Early Life and Other Mistakes. London: Bloomsbury.

Mousavi, Sayed Askar, 1998. The Hazaras of Afghanistan: An Historical, Cultural, Economic and Political Study. London: Curzon. 

Neale, Jonathan. 1981. ‘The Afghan Tragedy.’ International Socialism, 12: 1-32.

—. 1988. ‘Afghanistan: The Horse Changes Riders,’ Capital and Class, 35: 34-48.

—. 2002. ‘The Long Torment of Afghanistan.’ International Socialism 93: 31-59.

—. 2008. ‘Afghanistan: The Case Against “the Good War”.’ International Socialism, 120: 31-60. 

Nojumi, Neamatollah. 2002. The Rise of the Taliban in Afghanistan. New York: Palgrave.

Rico, Johnny. 2007. Blood Makes the Grass Grow Green: A Year in the Desert with Team America. New York: Presidio.

Tapper (Lindisfarne), Nancy. 1991. Bartered Brides: Politics, Gender and Marriage in an Afghan Tribal Society. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Tapper, Richard, ed. 1983. The Conflict of Tribe and State in Iran and Afghanistan. London: Croom Helm.

Tapper, Richard, with Nancy Lindisfarne. 2020. Afghan Village Voices: Stories from a Tribal Community. London: I.B. Tauris.

The Guardian, 2021. ‘Afghanistan Live News.’ August 16.

Ward, Lucy, 2001. ‘Leader’s Wives Join Propaganda War.’ The Guardian, Nov 17.

Zaeef, Abdul, 2010. My Life with the Taliban. London: Hirst.

Zilizer, Barbie. 2005. ‘Death in Wartime: Photographs and the ‘Other War’ in Afghanistan.’ The Harvard International Journal of Press/Politics, 10(3): 26-55.


[1] See especially Nancy Tapper (Lindisfarne), 1991; Lindisfarne, 2002a, 2002b and 2012; Lindisfarne and Neale, 2015; Neale, 1981, 1988, 2002 and 2008; Richard Tapper with Lindisfarne, 2020.

[2] Giustozzi, 2007 and 2009 are especially useful.

[3] On the class basis of the Taliban, see Lindisfarne, 2012, and many chapters by other authors in Marsden and Hopkins, 2012. And see Moussavi, 1998; Nojumi, 2002; Giustozzi, 2008 and 2009; Zareef, 2010.

[4] Zilizer, 2005.

[5] There is a vast literature on saving Afghan women. See Gregory, 2011; Lindisfarne, 2002a; Hirschkind and Mahmood, 2002; Kolhatkar and Ingalls, 2006; Jalalzai and Jefferess,2011; Fluri and Lehr, 2017; Manchanda, 2020.

[6] Ward, 2001.

[7] Lindisfarne and Neale, 2015

[8] Richard Tapper, 1983.

[9] For the drought in 1971, see Tapper and Lindisfarne, 2020. For more recent climate change, see Lindisfarne and Neale, 2019.

[10] Giustozzi, 2021.

[11] The Guardian, 2021.

Yanis Varoufakis: On this, the 6th edition of LET’S TALK IT OVER, the whole gang (Brian Eno, Ken Loach, Yanis Varoufakis & Roger Waters, chaired as always by Frank Barat) is on stage – to chat about lessons progressives must/can learn from… football. It turned out a fun, and possibly, insightful, hour. Whatever the quality of our musings (which I leave to use to judge), there were also two funny moments:
When Ken Loach was stood on his head, reminding us lefties of what Marx did to Hegel:  And when Mowgli decided I had said enough and it was time to take him to the beach:
After our chat was over, I felt sufficiently inspired after our chat to put down some of the thoughts I had tried to express. For what they are worth, here they are:
Contemporary societies, comprising atomised persons, deny men and women the experience of solidarity. Importantly, football is the last bastion of solidarity. It actually provides solidarity in oodles, sometimes to the point of shared frenzy.
And, yes, it is the beautiful game. Football’s beauty at times reaches the heights of an art that can take your breath away.
Moreover, football offers excitement, a simulation of bloody war, or at least skirmishes that would otherwise cause the police to step in. It provides people with an opportunity to experience tribal rituals and, at once, community festivals. It even brings on moments of ancient Greek tragedy – in the form of the penalty shootouts English fans know so well.
And then there is the special relationship between fans and players – a unique relationship that ordinary people cannot have with Hollywood stars or outsized basketball players: footballers look and sound very much like them. And that’s why they celebrate them: as their alter egos.
Football is also a little like Greek or Catholic Easter: It is uniquely able to bring under the same roof fascists and the leftists they seek to exterminate. On the terraces, we find neofascist white supremacists and Marxist trades unionists. On the pitch, sophisticated leftists like Socrates and Cantona and Tory icons like David Beckham.
Time for a personal story: I was ten. It was 1971. Panathinaikos was playing Red Star Belgrade in Athens in the European Championships semifinals – which they won, earning a place in the final, at Wembley versus Ajax.  Those were bleak days in the midst of the fascist dictatorship (1967-1974). Our fascist rulers were in the stadium, cheering. I remember watching the match in television with my mother, both of us cheering the Greek team’s victory despite knowing full well that at a stone’s throw distance from the stadium there was a torture chamber (run by ESA, the feared military police) were democrats were being tortured and maimed, including my mum’s brother. I mention this story as the best example I can think of the paradox that is football.
Football is too complicated politically to portray in black and white terms. Yes, football affords the working class the illusion that their rituals are better than the bourgeoisie’s. But, beware: this is NOT a revolutionary feeling, but one that makes exploited workers more willing, even enthusiastic, to endure their exploitation – it makes them more reluctant to become agents of change.
Even worse, football is a breeding ground for outraged populism – recall the recent revolt against corporate bastards who tried to take over the beautiful game with their plans for a Superleague. The same fans who celebrate when a rich bastard buys their club and promises to spend millions to buy star players!
Yes, football is the opium of the people. But, like the most effective mind-altering drugs, football offers humans invaluable comfort in the midst of a cruel social order – and it captures much that is human. Because I agree with Karl Marx who once said that ‘Nothing human is alien to me”, I feel I have no right to be a stranger to football.
So, with this excuse, let me declare my undying commitment to Panionios, my struggling Greek team founded by refugees who arrived here in 1922. And let me finish with a “Come on you Reds”, meaning both socialists and Liverpool, an association whose credibility we owe to that great socialist Bill Shankly.

Yanis Varoufakis’ op-ed in Green Central Banking

The very fact we’re discussing the idea of green central banking is a reminder that we live in desperate times. It demonstrates that good people, who care passionately about the green transition, have given up hope of living in functioning democracies willing and able to pursue our common interest.

Since the 1970s, our Western regimes have adopted the mantle of central bank independence. Independence from what? From grubby politicians eager to use the central bank’s printing presses to feather their nests, comes the standard answer. Which, in practice, means independence from parliament.

But this also places highly political decisions (for instance, an increase in interest rates that shifts power from debtors to creditors, or the purchase of an energy company’s bonds) beyond the reach of the demos and into the hands of an oligarchy which has traditionally profited from policies destroying the planet. Indeed, every time political decisions are disguised as technical ones and removed from the democratic realm, the result is toxic policies and economic failure.

While I am heartened by the recent urgency to enlist monetary policy in the pursuit of the green transition, what fills my heart with sadness is that all the recent talk of ‘greening’ central banks is unaccompanied by any challenge to the notion of central bank independence.

Depoliticising political decisions

Just like monetary policies, green policies are – and can never be anything other than – political choices. Whether we introduce a carbon tax or divest from fossil fuels or boost nuclear energy, every such decision has different effects on different people, communities and social classes. They are political through and through. To leave both monetary and green policies to nominally independent central banks is, effectively, to subcontract every decision that matters to the oligarchy to which central banks are beholden.

In reality, what has been happening is that since the 1970s central bank independence has been an excuse for formally depoliticising political decisions. In other words, of intentionally shrinking democracy and ditching the notion that crucial political decisions must be reached democratically.

Central banks can never be, and have never been, independent. Their legal independence has simply bolstered their dependence on bankers, on creditors, on multinational corporate interests. To place one’s hopes of a green transition on these same central banks is to legitimise the dwindling of democracy while turning citizens into denizens pleading with central bankers to save the planet on their behalf.

Understandably, central bankers like Christine Lagarde, president of the European Central Bank (ECB), cannot come out into the open to challenge basic articles of the charters that bind them professionally and legally. Being legally bound to not criticise central bank independence, it is natural for them to express any concern they have for the planet by seeking to ‘green’ their institution’s practices – for instance, to rule out collateral bonds that were used to finance lignite-powered electricity generation.

But for democrats keen to push for the green transition, it is logically and ethically impermissible to go on and on about the importance of ‘greening’ our central banks while staying mute on the antidemocratic travesty that is a pretence to central bank independence.

One may counterargue that, be that as it may, we are saddled with central banks whose charters are what they are. Given the climate emergency, can we afford to waste years debating new charters and fresh mandates for our central banks? Should we not do whatever it takes in the short term, within existing central bank charters, to discourage pollution and bolster green investments?

Yes, of course we should. Central banks must be pressed immediately into the service of the task in hand. Except this cannot and should not be done by having them apply political or environmental criteria to their lending practices, including quantitative easing.

Modifying the ECB’s mandate

To illustrate my point, compare and contrast two approaches for using the ECB’s firepower in pursuit of a genuine European green new deal.

One approach, which I refer to as ‘collateral tinkering’, is to tamper with the ECB’s collateral rulebook, by linking the haircut it applies to collateral corporate bonds to the carbon footprint of the relevant corporation. For instance, lending only 40% of an ExxonMobil bond posted as collateral, but raising this to 70% if the oil giant mothballs all future drilling projects.

The problem with this is threefold: legal, political and practical. Legally, the ECB’s mandate as specified in its charter must be extended beyond its current mono-commitment to price stability – a task that will involve 27 parliaments agreeing to a new charter.

But, even if this obstacle can be overcome or sidestepped, and everyone turns a blind eye to the new collateral rules, the political problem remains: who will decide which haircut applies to which bond? Subcontracting such a colossal political decision to unelected central bankers would constitute democracy’s last straw.

And then there is the question of the policy’s impracticality: how can the ECB monitor that ExxonMobil will make best green use of the funds it receives, courtesy of divesting from future oil drilling and securing a smaller haircut for its bonds? What can the ECB do if, say, it discovers that ExxonMobil took the money and, instead of investing into solar or wind, used it to buy back its own shares? The answer is depressingly little.

Forging an EIB-ECB alliance

The second approach is to leave the ECB’s charter alone (for now at least), but have the EU Council announce that it is instructing the European Investment Bank to issue new bonds annually to the tune of 5% of EU GDP to fund the green transition. As the ECB is already buying as many EIB bonds as it can find, legally within its existing charter, this announcement effectively forges an EIB-ECB alliance.

A casual statement by the ECB that it will continue to purchase EIB bonds will ensure that, without a cent of new taxes, the EU now has 5% of its GDP to invest annually directly into green energy, transport, agriculture and heavy industry. This will allow the EU to channel real money into green investments of our governments’ collective choice. No ECB charter changes, no collateral tinkering, just immediate green action.

While this move would not democratise the ECB in itself (that would have to come later), it would limit the ECB’s political decision-making and assign the selection of green projects to elected politicians at the EU Council and the European Parliament.

And yet we hear nothing of an EIB-ECB Alliance – such a move would be legal and most effective in harnessing the ECB’s firepower to Europe’s green transition. But our ears are buzzing with all the talk about green central banking relying on legally suspect and practically inefficient ‘collateral tinkering’.

Why? Because the powers-that-be are prepared to sacrifice the Earth before they allow for the re-democratisation of political decisions it took them so long to take off the demos’ hands.

Yanis Varoufakis — Project Syndicate

The claim that capitalism is being toppled by a new economic model comes on the heels of many premature forecasts of capitalism’s demise, especially from the left. But this time it may well be true, and the signs that it is have been visible for a while.

This is how capitalism ends: not with a revolutionary bang, but with an evolutionary whimper. Just as it displaced feudalism gradually, surreptitiously, until one day the bulk of human relations were market-based and feudalism was swept away, so capitalism today is being toppled by a new economic mode: techno-feudalism.

This is a large claim that comes on the heels of many premature forecasts of capitalism’s demise, especially from the left. But this time it may well be true The clues have been visible for a while. Bond and share prices, which should be moving in sharply opposite directions, have been skyrocketing in unison, occasionally falling but always in lockstep. Similarly, the cost of capital (the return demanded to own a security) should be falling with volatility; instead, it has been rising as future returns become more uncertain.

Perhaps the clearest sign that something serious is afoot appeared on August 12 last year. On that day, we learned that, in the first seven months of 2020, the United Kingdom’s national income had tanked by over 20%, well above even the direst predictions. A few minutes later, the London Stock Exchange jumped by more than 2%. Nothing comparable had ever occurred. Finance had become fully decoupled from the real economy.

But do these unprecedented developments really mean that we no longer live under capitalism? After all, capitalism has undergone fundamental transformations before. Should we not simply prepare ourselves for its latest incarnation? No, I do not think so. What we are experiencing is not merely another metamorphosis of capitalism. It is something more profound and worrisome.

Yes, capitalism has undergone extreme makeovers at least twice since the late nineteenth century. Its first major transformation, from its competitive guise to oligopoly, occurred with the second industrial revolution, when electromagnetism ushered in the large networked corporations and the megabanks necessary to finance them. Ford, Edison, and Krupp replaced Adam Smith’s baker, brewer, and butcher as history’s prime movers. The ensuing boisterous cycle of mega-debts and mega-returns eventually led to the crash of 1929, the New Deal, and, after World War II, the Bretton Woods system – which, with all its constraints on finance, provided a rare period of stability.

The end of Bretton Woods in 1971 unleashed capitalism’s second transformation. As America’s growing trade deficit became the world’s provider of aggregate demand – sucking in the net exports of Germany, Japan, and, later, China – the US powered capitalism’s most energetic globalization phase, with a steady flow of German, Japanese, and, later, Chinese profits back into Wall Street financing it all.

To play their role, however, Wall Street functionaries demanded emancipation from all of the New Deal and Bretton Woods constraints. With deregulation, oligopolistic capitalism morphed into financialized capitalism. Just as Ford, Edison, and Krupp had replaced Smith’s baker, brewer, and butcher, capitalism’s new protagonists were Goldman Sachs, JP Morgan, and Lehman Brothers.

While these radical transformations had momentous repercussions (the Great Depression, WWII, the Great Recession, and the post-2009 Long Stagnation), they did not alter capitalism’s main feature: a system driven by private profit and rents extracted through some market.

Yes, the transition from Smithian to oligopoly capitalism boosted profits inordinately and allowed conglomerates to use their massive market power (that is, their newfound freedom from competition) to extract large rents from consumers. Yes, Wall Street extracted rents from society by market-based forms of daylight robbery. Nevertheless, both oligopoly and financialized capitalism were driven by private profits boosted by rents extracted through some market – one cornered by, say, General Electric or Coca-Cola, or conjured up by Goldman Sachs.

Then, after 2008, everything changed. Ever since the G7’s central banks coalesced in April 2009 to use their money printing capacity to re-float global finance, a deep discontinuity emerged. Today, the global economy is powered by the constant generation of central bank money, not by private profit. Meanwhile, value extraction has increasingly shifted away from markets and onto digital platforms, like Facebook and Amazon, which no longer operate like oligopolistic firms, but rather like private fiefdoms or estates.

That central banks’ balance sheets, not profits, power the economic system explains what happened on August 12, 2020. Upon hearing the grim news, financiers thought: “Great! The Bank of England, panicking, will print even more pounds and channel them to us. Time to buy shares!” All over the West, central banks print money that financiers lend to corporations, which then use it to buy back their shares (whose prices have decoupled from profits). Meanwhile, digital platforms have replaced markets as the locus of private wealth extraction. For the first time in history, almost everyone produces for free the capital stock of large corporations. That is what it means to upload stuff on Facebook or move around while linked to Google Maps.

It is not, of course, that traditional capitalist sectors have disappeared. In the early nineteenth century, many feudal relations remained intact, but capitalist relations had begun to dominate. Today, capitalist relations remain intact, but techno-feudalist relations have begun to overtake them.

If I am right, every stimulus program is bound to be at once too large and too small. No interest rate will ever be consistent with full employment without precipitating sequential corporate bankruptcies. And class-based politics in which parties favoring capital compete against parties closer to labor is finished But while capitalism may end with a whimper, the bang may soon follow. If those on the receiving end of techno-feudal exploitation and mind-numbing inequality find a collective voice, it is bound to be very loud.

DiEM25 Advisory Panel member Julian Assange has been deprived of his freedom – freedom of life, freedom of speech, freedom of the press – for almost 10 years.

It is urgent to continue to fight for Julian Assange and for all whistleblowers who are deprived of their freedoms and rights in so-called democratic states.

To mark the 50th anniversary of the Wikileaks founder, and to support all those who, like him, have had their lives compromised for defending the truth, DiEM25 members will take to the streets in front of UK and U.S embassies in several European cities such as in Athens, Berlin, Brussels, London and Vilnius.

DiEMers from across Europe will protest with masks, and hold artworks from the “Raise your Voice for Assange” exhibition in their hands (an initiative of DiEM Voice, DiEM25’s cultural and artistic platform), and by standing on chairs, a replica of Davide Dormino’s #Anythingtosay project (learn more about it here).

Each protest will mark the day that gave birth to the man who radically changed the way of thinking about citizens’ right to information in our democracies and the duty to bring to court, not whistleblowers, but those who commit the real crimes against humanity.

In addition to these protests, DiEM Voice, DiEM25’s cultural and artistic platform, is preparing a special event on Voice TV, taking place on July 5 at 8 PM CEST, featuring artists Angela Richter and Davide Dormino, with moderation by Maja Pelevic. Throughout the event there will be some surprises, so stay tuned.

List of DiEM25 protests in Europe taking place on Saturday, July 3:

Credits: Aidan Clark (Raise your voice for Assange Campaign)

‘Democracy Now!’ report on the Progressive International’s Vaccine Internationalism

More than 2.6 billion COVID-19 vaccines have been administered worldwide, but many countries have yet to see a single shot amid mounting infections. Eighty-five percent of vaccines administered worldwide have been in high- and upper-middle-income countries. Only 0.3% of doses have been administered in low-income countries. Last week, G7 nations pledged to donate just 613 million new vaccine doses — far less than the 1 billion originally promised. This was the focus of an emergency four-day virtual Summit for Vaccine Internationalism this weekend, attended by government ministers, parliamentarians and public health officials from many countries, including Argentina, Bolivia, Vietnam, India, Greece, the United Kingdom, Canada and Cuba. The summit was organized by Progressive International, an organization founded by Senator Bernie Sanders and former Greek Finance Minister Yanis Varoufakis. “This is how we radicalize the world in order to be able to end the patent monopoly of Big Pharma,” says Varoufakis in his address, “so that there are no more patents that prevent people from access to pharmaceuticals … available in order to save lives.”

Transcript

This is a rush transcript. Copy may not be in its final form.

AMY GOODMAN: This is Democracy Now!The War and Peace ReportThe Quarantine Report.

We look now at the push to respond to what the World Health Organization calls “vaccine apartheid” with vaccine internationalism. More than 2.6 billion COVID-19 vaccines have been administered worldwide, but many countries have yet to see a single shot amidst mounting infections. Eighty-five percent of vaccines administered worldwide have been in high- and upper-middle-income countries. Only 0.3% of doses have been administered in low-income countries.

Last week, G7 nations pledged to donate more than 600 million new vaccine doses — far less than the 1 billion originally promised. This was the focus of an emergency four-day virtual Summit on Vaccine Internationalism this weekend, attended by government ministers, parliamentarians, public health officials from countries around the world, including Argentina, Bolivia, Vietnam, India, Greece, the United Kingdom, Canada and Cuba. The summit was organized by Progressive International, the group founded by Senator Bernie Sanders and the former Greek finance minister, Yanis Varoufakis. This is Varoufakis.

YANIS VAROUFAKIS: I want to share with you two numbers. $9,000 billion, $9,000 billion, $9 trillion — this is the sum of money that the G7, the leading economies, central banks printed to give to the bankers during the pandemic between March of 2020 and today, $9,000 billion.

Now for the second number. The International Monetary Fund has come up with an estimate of how much it would cost, at the present prices, to vaccinate the world, using existing vaccines, to vaccinate everyone fully, two doses when necessary: $39 billion.

So, compare and contrast: 9,000, 39. They printed 9,000 for the bankers, and they are still thinking about how to vaccinate the world, that would cost only 39.

We progressives, of course, never expect the central bankers of the capitalist West to produce the $39 billion, even though it would just be a touch of a button for them, to vaccinate humanity. We do not expect such humanism from them.

But, comrades, it is essential that we broadcast from the rooftops the news, for everyone to listen to, that they printed 9,000 billion, and only with 39 they could have ended the pandemic for the world, because only by demonstrating to good people out there who are not radicalized, who are not part of the Progressive International, who are not leftists, only by explaining to them that we don’t need even to wait for socialism, for nationalization of Big Pharma, for big, structural, revolutionary changes — a tiny little move of one finger within the existing awful capitalism would have saved humanity from COVID-19, and they are not doing it. This is how we inject outrage in the hearts and minds of good people out there who are not radicalized yet. This is how we radicalize the world, in order to be able to end the patent monopoly of Big Pharma, in order to internationalize, nationalize, socialize — call it whatever you will — Big Pharma, so that there are no more patents that prevent people from access to pharmaceuticals — vaccines, drugs, whatever is necessary — which is available in order to save lives.

So, let’s do it all. Expose Big Pharma, big politics, the oligarchy for their lack of willingness to do even things that are consistent with their own awful system, in order to save humanity. Work towards ending the patent system, replacing it, for instance, with a prize system. How about having a situation where we say, “Whichever company produces a vaccine against HIV, we’ll give them 5, 10 billion, but not a patent”? Then they will have to make the patent available to everyone. Support existing pharmaceutical companies in Cuba, in Africa that can produce vaccines today. And start the process of convincing the world out there who are not part of the Progressive International that they should be part of the Progressive International, radicalizing them by means of this combination of, on the one hand, demonstrating to them life-saving changes that could take place even within this global techno-feudalism, as I call global capitalism, and then harvest the ensuing anger in order to create the revolutionary progressive dynamic by which we are going to change the world, vaccinate everyone and provide the basics to everyone that needs them. Thank you.

AMY GOODMAN: That’s former Greek Finance Minister Yanis Varoufakis.

Click here to read more on the Progressive International’s Summit for Vaccine Internationalism.

Javier Moreno Zacarés, New Left Review

Notwithstanding the cyclical downturns and occasional depressions, it is customary to speak of capitalist development as a dynamic of self-expanding growth. Since the 1970s, however, stagnation has set in on a global scale amid falling profitability in the sphere of commodity production. The relocation of the world’s manufacturing base to low-wage economies has failed to offset this process—on the contrary, late industrializers have compressed the productivity gains of their predecessors into ever-shorter growth cycles, recreating their problems in an accelerated fashion. In the meantime, capital has turned to speculative ventures, promising better returns. The result has been a pattern of weak growth sustained by financial bubbles, leaving a trail of destructive crashes and jobless recoveries in the build-up to the Great Recession. In the decade since 2009, the central banks of the rich world have blanketed their anaemic economies with money, but to no avail. As growth fails to pick up, the wealthy are abdicating their investment duties, parking their capital in government bonds regardless of negative interest rates—the owners of capital are now literally paying states to take their money. Read more

Daron Acemoğlu, Professor of Economics, MIT

We need a better and stronger social safety net. We need ways of combating inequality. We need to create a fairer society. Why not, then, sign up for Universal Basic Income (UBI), which would give a basic income to all citizens who are all adults, for example, $1000 a month for every adult American?

Yet, UBI is a flawed idea.

This is for two basic reasons.

First, a better social safety net means a better-designed social safety net. UBI misallocates funds. Rather than transferring to people in need — for example, those requiring financial help because of poverty or unemployment — it pays out to the rich and the middle class as well. Its advocates might say this is by design: when we transfer to everybody, we make everybody a stakeholder in UBI. I fear that’s wishful thinking. Billionaires will not become fans of redistribution programs because they are getting $1000 a month.A combination of moderate minimum wages (like the $15 an hour being debated in the US now), earned income tax credit (which augments the take-home pay of low-earning workers), universal health care, and a decent level of transfers to people temporarily or permanently out of a job would improve the income distribution much more, while costing much less.

Second, UBI is the wrong solution to the wrong problem. Many, like the former Democratic presidential hopeful Andrew Yang, advocate it because they think the future will be one without jobs. There are several layers of misconceptions in these claims. There is little evidence that jobs are disappearing en masse, even if automation, led by robots and algorithms, is displacing workers from some of the tasks they used to perform. However, the problem they are creating isn’t one of joblessness, but one of an acute shortage of good jobs — jobs with decent wages, security, career-building opportunities and a sense of purpose.

UBI doesn’t deal with this underlying problem and is defeatist. We should and can create good jobs for a larger fraction of the population — not just those with elite college degrees and postgraduate certification, but for all workers. To do this, we need to redirect technological change away from automation, reduce the hold of large corporations, especially of the big tech, on the future of technology and work, and increase the protection for and the bargaining power of workers. UBI doesn’t do any of this. Rather, it’s like bread and circus were to ancient Romans. Handouts and diversions for the people left behind.

UBI isn’t just flawed. It is also politically precarious. Some of its advocates, from the left, view it as a way of increasing redistribution. Yet to many of its advocates on the right — in Silicon Valley and libertarian circles — it is a way of paring down the safety net. This is a marriage made in hell.

Rather than being distracted by the chimera of UBI, we should try to build a better future for workers, which starts with a focus on good jobs, an effort to slow down and counteract excessive automation, and a commitment to building a stronger and better-design social safety net.

Yanis Varoufakis responds:

If UBI were meant as a substitute for the existing safety net, I would also reject it. If it were meant as an admission of defeat in the struggle to create good quality work, I would oppose it. And, if it were to be funded through normal taxation, I would campaign against it.

Back in the 1980s, I was unimpressed by early UBI proposals. Class warriors fighting the corporate corner, notably Milton Friedman, endorsed UBI as a means of tearing up the postwar safety net which had done much to ameliorate poverty. In 2015 I felt their brunt when, as Greece’s finance minister, I fought tooth and nail the infamous troika who were pushing me to replace existing benefits with a measly, ‘minimum guaranteed income’ – a naked attempt to eradicate what was left of our welfare state.

So, why am I supporting a form of UBI now? Because the world changed drastically in 2008. Today, a therapeutic, non-divisive, progressive form of UBI – which I refer to as a Universal Basic Dividend, or UBD – is both feasible and necessary. In fact it is an essential complement to an indispensable safety net, a Green New Deal, and a jobs’ guarantee program.

Let’s begin with its feasibility: In the post-2008 world, there is no need to tax struggling workers so as to pay a monthly allowance to layabout surfers or the rich. But, if not through taxation, how shall we pay for this UBD?

Since 2008, central banks have been maximising inequality by pumping gargantuan liquidity into private banks which lend it to corporations which, then, use it to buy back their own shares – with zero green, good quality jobs added. Why not, instead, pay much smaller amounts into every resident’s bank account? And here is a second idea: Legislate into existence a Public Equity Depository where corporations must deposit, say, 10% of their shares – in recognition of the fact that everyone contributes to the corporations’ capital stock (through tax-funded research, by using Google’s search engine, or writing up a review in Amazon). The accumulating dividends can then fund part of a UBD.

Why is such a UBD necessary? For three reasons: First, because safety nets often entrap people while offering no protection to the millions forced to join the ranks of the precariat – or those who do unwaged care work. Secondly, a poor person’s trust fund (a UBD!) would boost workers’ severely diminished bargaining power more effectively than even a sizeable Green New Deal. Thirdly, because without a UBD to fall back on, an otherwise laudable jobs guarantee program may resemble a Victorian workhouse.

A Green New Deal, stronger safety nets, job guarantees, and legal impediments to the unbearable robotisation of the precariat are necessary. But they are not sufficient. Nothing short of the re-distribution of property rights over socially produced money and capital (that a UBD would kickstart) can reverse the post-2008 triumph of socialism for the very few and of stagnation for the many.

Daron Acemoğlu responds back:

So how do we build a better labor market, a fairer economy and a more robust social safety net? Should UBI or what Varoufakis calls a UBD (universal basic dividend) be part of it?

My conviction is that our main objective should be to fight poverty and guarantee decent living standards for those at the bottom of the distribution. The problem with UBI is that it does not target these citizens.

Imagine we are paying $1,000 a month to every adult in a country. The $1,000 going to those above median income will not help reduce poverty. It is not even a well targeted transfer, since these individuals are simultaneously paying taxes and receiving lump-sum money; it would be better, from the viewpoint of economic efficiency, to reduce their marginal tax rate slightly rather than handing them a $1,000 transfer.

But neither a transfer of $1,000 to those earning above the median nor devoting this amount to reduce their marginal tax rates are good uses of government funds. Rather, the social safety net would be stronger if those funds were also used to bolster the living standards of those in the bottom 20 or 30% — for example, in order to achieve a minimum income of $2,000 a month for every adult.

What about creating transfer-induced poverty traps, some might worry? The concern here is that a transfer of, say, $2,000 a month for adults with the lowest earnings may discourage job-seeking, because as earnings increase, transfers will cease. This is the reason why transfers to the non-employed and low-earners should be supplemented with negative income tax systems, such as the Earned Income Tax Credit (EITC) in the US. A well-designed scheme would subsidize earnings around the “notch” where an individual or household starts earning the minimum income, so that they continue to be incentivized to find work and increase their take-home pay when possible.

What about encouraging employers to pay higher wages to workers? This is another important policy objective, especially as good jobs for workers without postgraduate degrees are becoming increasingly scarce. But there is no evidence that UBI would have any such benefits, and we have already tried and tested tools for achieving these objectives: minimum wages and protection for workers, so that they can have a voice and bargain for better pay and working conditions.

It is not only that UBI is not well-calibrated to achieve our main objective; it also obscures the policy priorities. Ensuring that there is a decent supply of good — high-wage, stable and career-building — jobs for workers without postgraduate degrees should be the main priority for the next decades. This is even more challenging when we add to the mix the necessity to reduce carbon emissions, as this means the elimination of jobs in mining and the traditional energy sector. The battle for UBI would distract from this focus — a particularly important concern, since UBI is often marketed as a response to the inevitable disappearance of jobs.

What about the “two birds with one stone” justification — tax wealth and profits and use the proceeds for UBI or UBD? Yet there is no reason to tie where tax revenue comes with how this revenue should be used. If there is a good justification for taxing profits and wealth, we should do it, and then deploy the revenue in the best way we can.

Many corporations have excessive profits because they avoid taxes or find regulatory loopholes. The best way of dealing with this is to improve regulation and tax enforcement. The excessive power of capital over labor is often rooted in and further feeds into low taxes on corporate profits and capital. As I have argued elsewhere, there are strong reasons for increasing corporate income taxes, which, if designed well, can do more than preventing excessive profits fed by tax dodges; it can also level the playing field between capital and labor, and discourage excessive automation.

There is nothing inevitable about a two-tiered society, in which a small minority with post-graduate degrees, specialized skills and entrepreneurial opportunities have all the earning capacity and command all social status, and the rest are increasingly seen as marginal and dispensable. UBI adds to this narrative, even if unwittingly. It admits defeat and signals that economic contribution and tax revenue will come from an increasingly small fraction of society and we just have to find a way of redistributing it to the rest.

This is the wrong vision. We can and should create higher-quality jobs and a fairer economy, where the vast majority of people can meaningfully contribute to economic surplus and the common good. But this necessitates a radical overhaul of the welfare state and our tax codes, and, as importantly, a huge redirection of technological change away from ceaseless automation towards supporting and furthering human productivity.

We should focus on these challenging priorities, not get distracted by a UBI debate, which, at best, can further cement a dystopian two-tiered society.

Finale, by Yanis Varoufakis:

UBI cannot civilise labour markets. But nor can the old social-democratic toolkit championed by Daron. The reason? Post-2008 developments, accelerated by the pandemic, have caused capitalism to reach a point of no return to an economic system that smart tax, benefit and regulation tweaks might have once civilised.

Daron, rightly, dreads a future society divided between a minority of highly paid professionals central to the running of Big Tech and a mass of miserable folk confined to their couches and kept alive by a woeful Milton Friedman-inspired UBI.

For my part, I dread more the post-capitalist technofeudal dystopia we already live in: The wealth of the very few kept buoyant by a torrent of central bank money while economic life is increasingly dominated by tech-fiefdoms with immense extractive powers over, on the one hand, an ever-expanding precariat and, on the other, the masses who provide them with most of their capital stock for free (e.g., data, photos, reviews).

No wealth or negative income tax can even scratch the epidermis of this behemoth. No government intervention can slow down the mechanisation of workers spurred on by the new automation. Labour markets, today, are beyond reform. We can no longer fight poverty, precarity and industrial-scale hopelessness by strengthening the safety net or experimenting with novel tax rates.

To create a modicum of shared prosperity, we must liberate as many as possible from the tyranny of the labour market. Which means giving people the option to work usefully and creatively without having to sell their labour – not at all the same as paying them to be idle. And this is where the Universal Basic Dividend (UBD) comes in: as a trust fund for the many.

The affluent understand that trust funds grant their kids freedom from bullshit jobs, a prerequisite for a creative life. A trust fund for everyone democratises the right to say ‘no’ to exploitative terms, ends ritual humiliation in social security offices, benefits the Treasury (which recoups the richer people’s UBD at the end the tax year) and, importantly, allows people to do hugely important work outside the labour market (caring for others, experimenting in the arts, studying for the hell of it).

To make a modest trust fund available to all I have proposed we legislate that a minimum percentage of a corporation’s shares be handed over to a Public Equity Depository at the Central Bank which then offers a digital bank account to every resident in which it deposits both their share of the dividends accumulating in the Depository plus a top up credit – a people’s ‘quantitative easing’ component whose level adjusts with the business cycle. This UBD would make the central bank’s money tree provide for everyone, rather than for the exclusive benefit of the top 0,1%, while making a dent into the monopoly of the same 0.1% over capital that is produced by the masses.

To end poverty and exploitation the dangerous illusion that waged labour remains key to shared prosperity must be jettisoned.

First published at PAIRAGRAPH, a hub of discourse between pairs of notable individuals.

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