I Hope the War Doesn’t End!
Published in El Pais
(Spain) on 22 August 2012
by Jon Sistiaga (link to original)
“The Afghan that brings the water, one that comes onto the base driving a water tank truck, it turns out that after performing an iris scan he appeared on the Watch List, the list of those suspected of collaborating with the Taliban. So we’ve reported it to the commander so that they take necessary measures.” Rafael C. smiles, satisfied, when he tells me this, while he shows me the hunting knife that he carries on his belt and never parts with. Rafael is a civilian contractor, one of thousands here in Afghanistan that are an example of privatization of war today. In fact, there are already more contractors than soldiers in China. There are about 113,000 civilians versus some 90,000 soldiers, according to the Pentagon.
Rafael’s company, Biometrics, has flooded the U.S. bases with iris scanners that send information directly to the U.S., where the identity of the new Afghan employee is checked and their possible danger is detected. “Hopefully the war doesn’t end. I hope it continues because we are making a lot of money,” admits Rafael, a native of San Diego, Calif., and former member of the Special Forces, now turned contractor. Pablo Castro, a Puerto Rican who served as a soldier in Iraq and survived three explosions against his vehicle, is now a C-RAM technician, working for a subsidiary of Northrop Grumman, one of the big corporations of the industrial military complex of the United States. I share a tent with both in the area designated for non-military personnel of the Forward Operating Base Bullard, in Zabul province. Paul speaks a little Spanish and spends the day in the gym at the base. He tells me that his company has convinced the Pentagon that its radar can detect any grenade or mortar attack against their bases — a kind of early warning system that Paul and the rest of the employees are activating base by base, training the military in its use.
All these companies that are making a killing in Afghanistan, as they did before in Iraq, have dramatically increased the costs of the war. Now, not only is it necessary to pay for and support military deployment, but also all the expenses that these companies invoice — according to the State Department, some $23 billion since 2002. This is why, when you talk to any of these employees, these contractors, you can hardly find anyone who wants this war to end. They are making a lot of money. Their salaries as expatriates in Afghanistan, in a war zone, are astronomical; some even intend to buy a house when they return. A qualified technician like Rafael can earn as much as 200,000 euros a year, approximately 17,000 a month. That all goes straight to his account in California, because here there are no expenses. They eat in the military mess hall, sleep in tents or bunkers authorized by the military and there is hardly anything to buy. The contractors are not like the soldiers who, in a more or less professional way, fulfill their months of deployment; they risk their lives in missions off the base, and they are counting the days until their return. Not these people. The contractors do not go off the base and do not want the war to end. They are part of a new breed of “securocratas,” living the madness of war at the expense of their companies, who report their wages on the final invoice. Congress has estimated the average expenditure per soldier per year in Afghanistan at 680,000 euros. Multiply that by almost 100,000 soldiers who have been sent to this country.
Contractors are everywhere, but are especially visible on the larger bases that assemble troop movements or serve as the army logistics centers. Over the past few days I have met Russian pilots hired by the American company Dyncorp, Romanian cooks, Bangladeshi latrine cleaners or sales clerks such as Lolito, a Filipino who is employed at a small seamstress business, much demanded by the soldiers whose uniforms are frequently ripped or torn. None of these people know what happens outside the base walls, nor are they interested. They will never leave. In fact, in 2010 there were more deaths among contractors of North American companies (430) than among U.S. soldiers (418). “I have never, ever gone out of the base and I have no intention of doing so,” confirms Jim, a Nepalese employee of the American coffee chain Green Beans, while he serves me a coffee. Often, these employees don’t even know where they are physically. You ask them if they are in the north or the south of Afghanistan and they reply that they have no idea. They only know the name of the base where they have been taken. In fact, the few Afghans they have met are the local employees of these bases or interpreters. The latter usually come from other provinces of the country so that they are not recognized by the locals and suffer retaliation or are killed by the Taliban.
These are the new wars, at least the ones the United States fight. The soldiers devote themselves to the war and the rest, to washing, to cooking, to cleaning, to sweeping, to have hot water for the showers, to connect the air conditioning, to build a gymnasium, to hook up Wi-Fi, to offer freshly made ice cream after a battle (or juice, or coffee), to prepare pizzas, Cajun ribs or Tennessee style hamburgers. Whatever it is, some company offers itself to be hired by the Pentagon. Any major brand of commercial food is here: McDonalds, Friday's, Kentucky Fried Chicken...
If a soldier arrives on base, or a civilian, or a journalist, the first thing they do is pass through a kind of reception where they are given a place to sleep depending on their work or rank. Rajesh Kuravati is a 35-year-old Hindu who is in charge of allocating the new workers/clients of the Lagman base. “Eight years I've been working with Dyncorp and I'm delighted. Before, I was in Iraq cleaning, now I have been promoted,” he tells me. Rajesh works every day of the week, every month, an average of 12 hours a day, and gets two weeks’ vacation twice a year. His salary is around 1,100 euros, but he is happy. For Rajesh this is a fortune and a way of educating his two children, who he sees a couple of times a year. But Rajesh, like almost everyone here, knows that this will end — that in a year and half international troops will leave the country. Contractors will have to leave Afghanistan and all these bases, many of them authentic miniature replicas of American malls, stay here as dilapidated remains of a presence that has yet to demonstrate if it served for something.
Rafael’s company, Biometrics, has flooded the U.S. bases with iris scanners that send information directly to the U.S., where the identity of the new Afghan employee is checked and their possible danger is detected. “Hopefully the war doesn’t end. I hope it continues because we are making a lot of money,” admits Rafael, a native of San Diego, Calif., and former member of the Special Forces, now turned contractor. Pablo Castro, a Puerto Rican who served as a soldier in Iraq and survived three explosions against his vehicle, is now a C-RAM technician, working for a subsidiary of Northrop Grumman, one of the big corporations of the industrial military complex of the United States. I share a tent with both in the area designated for non-military personnel of the Forward Operating Base Bullard, in Zabul province. Paul speaks a little Spanish and spends the day in the gym at the base. He tells me that his company has convinced the Pentagon that its radar can detect any grenade or mortar attack against their bases — a kind of early warning system that Paul and the rest of the employees are activating base by base, training the military in its use.
All these companies that are making a killing in Afghanistan, as they did before in Iraq, have dramatically increased the costs of the war. Now, not only is it necessary to pay for and support military deployment, but also all the expenses that these companies invoice — according to the State Department, some $23 billion since 2002. This is why, when you talk to any of these employees, these contractors, you can hardly find anyone who wants this war to end. They are making a lot of money. Their salaries as expatriates in Afghanistan, in a war zone, are astronomical; some even intend to buy a house when they return. A qualified technician like Rafael can earn as much as 200,000 euros a year, approximately 17,000 a month. That all goes straight to his account in California, because here there are no expenses. They eat in the military mess hall, sleep in tents or bunkers authorized by the military and there is hardly anything to buy. The contractors are not like the soldiers who, in a more or less professional way, fulfill their months of deployment; they risk their lives in missions off the base, and they are counting the days until their return. Not these people. The contractors do not go off the base and do not want the war to end. They are part of a new breed of “securocratas,” living the madness of war at the expense of their companies, who report their wages on the final invoice. Congress has estimated the average expenditure per soldier per year in Afghanistan at 680,000 euros. Multiply that by almost 100,000 soldiers who have been sent to this country.
Contractors are everywhere, but are especially visible on the larger bases that assemble troop movements or serve as the army logistics centers. Over the past few days I have met Russian pilots hired by the American company Dyncorp, Romanian cooks, Bangladeshi latrine cleaners or sales clerks such as Lolito, a Filipino who is employed at a small seamstress business, much demanded by the soldiers whose uniforms are frequently ripped or torn. None of these people know what happens outside the base walls, nor are they interested. They will never leave. In fact, in 2010 there were more deaths among contractors of North American companies (430) than among U.S. soldiers (418). “I have never, ever gone out of the base and I have no intention of doing so,” confirms Jim, a Nepalese employee of the American coffee chain Green Beans, while he serves me a coffee. Often, these employees don’t even know where they are physically. You ask them if they are in the north or the south of Afghanistan and they reply that they have no idea. They only know the name of the base where they have been taken. In fact, the few Afghans they have met are the local employees of these bases or interpreters. The latter usually come from other provinces of the country so that they are not recognized by the locals and suffer retaliation or are killed by the Taliban.
These are the new wars, at least the ones the United States fight. The soldiers devote themselves to the war and the rest, to washing, to cooking, to cleaning, to sweeping, to have hot water for the showers, to connect the air conditioning, to build a gymnasium, to hook up Wi-Fi, to offer freshly made ice cream after a battle (or juice, or coffee), to prepare pizzas, Cajun ribs or Tennessee style hamburgers. Whatever it is, some company offers itself to be hired by the Pentagon. Any major brand of commercial food is here: McDonalds, Friday's, Kentucky Fried Chicken...
If a soldier arrives on base, or a civilian, or a journalist, the first thing they do is pass through a kind of reception where they are given a place to sleep depending on their work or rank. Rajesh Kuravati is a 35-year-old Hindu who is in charge of allocating the new workers/clients of the Lagman base. “Eight years I've been working with Dyncorp and I'm delighted. Before, I was in Iraq cleaning, now I have been promoted,” he tells me. Rajesh works every day of the week, every month, an average of 12 hours a day, and gets two weeks’ vacation twice a year. His salary is around 1,100 euros, but he is happy. For Rajesh this is a fortune and a way of educating his two children, who he sees a couple of times a year. But Rajesh, like almost everyone here, knows that this will end — that in a year and half international troops will leave the country. Contractors will have to leave Afghanistan and all these bases, many of them authentic miniature replicas of American malls, stay here as dilapidated remains of a presence that has yet to demonstrate if it served for something.