Millions of words – and I do not exaggerate – have been written seeking to explain how and why the Soviet Union collapsed, bringing an end to the Bolshevik revolution of 1917 and, probably, the future of communism on this planet. How could the world’s second superpower topple like a pack of cards, bringing with it the collapse of the global communist dream? The answer remains debatable; yet I cannot recall any previous book coming closer to a credible analysis than this remarkable work by Sir Rodric Braithwaite – a book glowing with stunning research on how and why the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan failed so disastrously. What leaps from the pages of this remarkable account is the link between the invasion of Afghanistan in 1979 and the terminal collapse, a decade later, of the Soviet Union. From the outset of the Afghan war – which lasted nine years and 52 days, virtually the same as the Vietnam war – Braithwaite makes it clear that the Soviet leadership, then headed by Leonid Brezhnev, was deeply divided and profoundly reluctant to send Red Army troops to support a communist government in Kabul established following the coup in 1978. The new regime had no experience of government and, as Braithwaite explains, sought to impose socialist doctrines on a largely feudal tribal society at the point of a gun. The new regime was gripped by internal ideological conflicts inspiring, literally, murderous personal rivalries and the Afghan experience became a watershed for the ultimate suvival of the Soviet Union. That situation never changed across nearly a decade of Soviet militaryinvolvement – except to grow worse as Red Army generals recognised the hopelessness of their mission while, in the Kremlin, the politburo argued over what most of them realised was becoming ideololgical suicide. Under Brezhnev, Yuri Andropov and Konstantin Chernenko – until Mikhail Gorbachev took the helm in March 1985 – the politburo were at odds over the war. It was left to Gorbachev to take the decision to withdraw from Afghanistan, but by then hardly anyone in the party leadership or Red Army believed it was feasible to hold the country. In fact, Gorbachev told the Afghan communists to forget about socialism. The Soviet economy was already in trouble, made worse by a costly and futile war. The political dilemma facing Moscow was the relentless pressure from the communist government in Kabul for help – since the Afghan communists were failing to cope with rebellious groups determined to overthrow them.
Complicating the Kremlin’s problem was the rivalry between various elements within the Kabul party hierarchy, few of whom were trusted by Moscow. In the end it was virtual political blackmail that forced the Soviet decision to intervene. Braithwaite describes the scene vividly like this: “For four long days the [Soviet] leaders worried at some almost intractable problems. What was the real Soviet interest in Afghanistan? What could the Russians do about the deviousness, brutality and incompetence of their communist allies in Kabul? How should they react to Kabul’s increasingly desperate pleas for Soviet troops to help put down the insurgency?” Brezhnev’s health was failing and he was absent from many of the key discussions while maintaining formal authority as general secretary of the Communist Party. The decision to send in the troops was taken with the leadership in a state of confusion, uncertain both ideologically and militarily, while fearing they had no serious option if they were to retain Soviet credibility abroad. Braithwaite records: “Step by step, with great reluctance, strongly suspecting that it would be a mistake, the Russians slithered towards a military intervention because they could not think of a better alternative.” Two years after sending in the troops, Brezhnev died and Andropov took over but lasted less than two years. He was followed by Chernenko who lasted even fewer months. Then came Gorbechev, by which time the Soviet generals knew they were fighting a losing war: they were all trapped. The United States, well aware of Soviet ambivalence, was massively arming the Afghan tribal guerilla fighters, the notorious Mujahedin from whom the Taliban would emerge – ensuring not only a Soviet disaster but also the foundation from which September 11 would erupt. Braithwaite writes: “In the end the Russians had good tactics but no workable strategy. They could win their fights but they could not convincingly win the war. Their best efforts, military and political, went for for nothing. They eventually had no choice but to disentangle themselves as best they could.” It was a bitter truth which both the Americans and the British first ignored, then mocked, and are still paying the price. That lesson is embedded in the history of every attempt to seize and control Afghanistan since 1717 when Peter the Great sent the first Russian expedition to tame and conquer the southern rim of his tsarist empire – a delusion which has since cost every power, notably Britain, an enormous price. The prime purpose of Sir Rodric’s book was not to examine how and why the Soviet Union collapsed – although that is what it does – but to satisfy his fascination with the Afghan war and its impact on the Russia he knew so well. He was Britain’s ambassador in Moscow from 1988 to 1992 at the time of the Soviet Union’s collapse and also witnessed, first hand, the decline of the communist system during his service in the British Embassy from 1963 to 1966. As a career diplomat, fluent in Russian and steeped in the country’s history and culture, he had already reached the conclusion that the system was breaking up. But there is little doubt that his role as ambassador during the crucial years as the Afghan war tore the heart out of the Soviet economy as well as the Soviet military that he became convinced its impact was destroying the fabric of the Soviet system. His concluding chapters provide a masterpiece of analysis to crown a book which should be mandatory reading for political leaders across the globe – especially in the United States and Britain.
