‘Good governance’ is an overused phrase in Helmand.
Ive found it all too easy to fall into the trap of thinking that simply hosting a shura – a gathering of tribal elders – constitutes ‘good governance’. Its even easier to make this mistake in a district that hasn’t seen many of them in recent years.
These past months Ive observed the new District Governor – wise and honourable as he appears to be – wrestle with the daunting task of establishing legitimacy and influence over the population of Musa Qal’eh. His lack of tribal or economic affiliation is a mixed blessing. On the one hand he maintains a refreshingly unbiased view of local affairs, yet on the other, he must contrive alliances with the established powerbrokers closely watching from behind the scenes. Navigating this tightrope of Afghan politics requires both dexterity and courage.
Such efforts cannot be left to accident or good fortune. Supporting the new District Governor establish the legitimate face of Government here is – in the view of a colleague – ‘the only game in town.’
And from where I stand, it is a game far from over.
‘This is my first time to come to this place.’ Abdul Rahman told me as we sat in a recent shura hosted by the District Governor. ‘I have come here to ask for help, as my harvest has failed this year, and my family will go hungry.’
Abdul lives 30 minutes walk away – about two kilometres – farming a small plot of land with his wife and five children. I was curious about why this was his first time coming to the shura. “The Taliban will beat me if they know that I have come. We have to come in secret”.
Hours later the shura came to a close and Abdul still had not spoken. “I am too embarrassed” he confided to me, clearly uncomfortable amongst the gathered elders. He then collected his belongings and resolutely set off under the searing midday sun on the dusty trek back to his village. He didn’t say whether he would return or not.
Ive come to notice now when these shuras don’t work. They feel hollow and frail, a performance that fails to satisfy the people or serve their interests. And Ive felt what is possible when they do – a sense of participation, of unity and purpose. Either way, its clear that the shura hall is as important a battlefield as any other.
But Ive also realised that it doesn’t matter what I think. Winning the battle for ‘good governance’ in this district rests squarely on whether people like Abdul Raman feel it is worth it to make the dangerous journey from their homes to air their problems and believe that something will change as a result.
