In a development that has sent the Foreign Office’s china cabinet rattling and inspired a fresh wave of column inches about ‘stability’, Pakistan has launched what it calls ‘precision military strikes’ inside Afghanistan. The UK, ever the voice of measured concern from a safe distance, has warned that this could spark a ‘regional inferno’. One can only assume the inferno in question is currently confined to a small brazier in the Foreign Secretary's office, where he is burning contingency plans for tea breaks.
Let us first dispense with the notion that any of this is ‘precision’. The only precision in modern warfare is the precision with which governments avoid taking responsibility for civilian casualties. Pakistan claims to have targeted ‘terrorist hideouts’. Afghanistan’s Taliban government, which the UK and US spent two decades trying to defeat and now apparently deigns to treat as a legitimate entity, reports that the strikes killed women and children. The usual dance of denial and accusation will now ensue, with each side accusing the other of harbouring the very people they claim to oppose.
Meanwhile, the British government has issued a statement that reads like a particularly cautious menu item: ‘We urge restraint and call for a de-escalation of tensions.’ This is diplomatic speak for ‘We have no idea what to do, but we must say something to justify our salaries and the existence of the Foreign Office.’ The United Nations has likewise chimed in, offering to mediate, which is the international equivalent of a passing stranger offering to sort out a domestic argument by suggesting everyone sit down and have a nice cup of Darjeeling.
The timing of this incident is impeccable, of course. It comes just as the world was beginning to recover from the collective amnesia about Afghanistan following the chaotic withdrawal of Western forces. Now we are all reminded that the place is still a powder keg, and the fuse is being cheerfully lit by parties who have no interest in peace, only in perpetuating their own petty grievances dressed up as national security.
What does this mean for the average Brit? Precisely nothing, save for the probable increase in airport security and the faint buzz of distant war drums on the evening news. The government will likely respond by increasing defence spending (paid for by cuts to something else) and sending a destroyer to the Arabian Sea, because nothing says ‘de-escalation’ like shifting naval assets.
In the fever dream of geopolitics, Pakistan and Afghanistan are two scorpions in a bottle, and the UK is a concerned bystander holding a pair of tongs, wondering whether to interfere or simply watch the inevitable sting. The answer, predictably, will be a compromise: we will interfere just enough to make things worse, but not enough to actually solve anything.
So raise a glass to the diplomats, the generals, and the politicians who will now convene in air-conditioned rooms to discuss the ‘roadmap to peace’ while the actual roads in question are being bombed. And spare a thought for the people of Afghanistan and Pakistan, who are once again caught in the crossfire of other men’s ambitions. The inferno, as predicted, is coming. The only question is whether the UK will bring marshmallows.
