Have we been asleep at the TV, or what. Back in the month of December when Jersey Shore and the continuing saga of the Kardashian sisters dominated the American media psyche, Afghanistan advertised that bidding would open on billions of dollars worth of copper and gold deposits in four areas of the country that together amount to roughly half the size of the Grand Canyon.

Just so you know, the U.S. Defense Department values Afghanistan’s untapped mineral deposits at a tidy $1,000,000,000,000. That’s one trillion U.S. dollars, suggesting a vast wealth of mineral riches lays dormant in the marbled underbelly of the Sistan Basin. Iron, copper, cobalt, goal and assorted rare earth materials used in everything from cell phones to hybrid car batteries are buried throughout the country – but especially in Badakhshan, Ghazni and (you guessed it) Herat provinces. According to the Afghan Minister of Mines, Wahidullah Shahrani, who estimates the value at an even loftier $3 trillion, Afghanistan plans to sell the rights for up to five mines a year until 2014. That should get the geological money pump lubricated.

But who are the proper arbiters of this newly discovered treasure trove of mineral fortune? A clutch of business-cozy Afghan government ministers? The multinational mining corporations who are assuming the risk?

To be fair, Afghanistan has little if no modern capabilities to plumb this potentially obscene amount of earthly wealth on its own, let alone conduct the appropriate geological surveys that can a) isolate the quantity and grade of each precious metal sought, or b) avoid environmental disaster in the international “gold rush” to capitalize on the country’s stunningly large reserves. Still, do conveniently written mining treaties crafted by a notoriously corrupt government to the benefit of foreign mining firms seem like the Afghan people will be reaping an equitable share of the lode?

Slow down, you say. Afghanistan has high hopes that its budding mining industry will generate billions in revenue to help rebuild the nation after 30 years of war. Isn’t this a good thing? Sure, if it was actually based on locally developed infrastructure, clearly defined socio-economic revenue streams attached directly to nation building and the Afghan people themselves managing the entire supply chain, from extraction to project management and financial administration.

Instead, the whole thing whiffs of mortgaging Afghanistan’s future to outside influences all over again, continuing an age-old tradition of occupation begun by Alexander the Great and his Macedonian army or (choose one) the Achaemenid Empire, Indian Maurya Empire, Islamic Empire and Sassanid Empire. Which says nothing of those past 30 years.

Drill, baby, drill

To me, government-sponsored corporations marching in under the banner of resource development in order to liberate the Afghan people of their poverty is no less of a foreign invasion and material conquest. Let’s review some of the early agreements, interesting for their absence of explicit U.S.-sponsored involvement.

In late 2007, a $3 billion contract was awarded to China Metallurgical Group Corp. to mine copper at Aynak in Logar province, 21 miles southeast of Kabul. The mine is thought to hold one of the world’s largest untapped copper reserves.

In December 2010, Afghan officials approved a multimillion-dollar contract to mine gold in Dushi district of Baghlan province. It was the first mining project in Afghanistan backed by private investors from the West, who pledged $50 million for the project.

In November 2011, the Afghan government gave investors from India and Canada permission to mine an estimated 1.8 billion tons of iron ore in Bamiyan province.

Call me Chicken Little, but in the history of mankind it has always been dig first, deal with the consequences of human greed (labor rights abuses and ecological crises) later. I’m not saying the projected 4,000 to 5,000 Afghan jobs that mining copper could create in the next five years is a bad thing, nor are the hundreds of millions of dollars Afghanistan’s treasury department stands to gain from this effort. It’s where the fruits of this harvest are falling.

Specifically, the national interests need to be even more largely served (employment numbers and sectors represented) and genuinely felt by the people themselves (revenues legally bound to hard-core issues of provincial or national need, such as rural education and quality healthcare). And that this is achieved only through a transparent democratic process in which the entire voting public plays a role, not something determined by a dubiously elected government agreeing to terms dictated to by multinationals driven entirely by self interest.

Afghans need a chunk of the benefit that mining could bring, not a chip off the ol’ rock. Stay “tuned” to this one.

Faced with anguish and confusion over the loss of his father, Sadiq turned to meditation and prayer – a practice he gained during his childhood by accompanying his father to the mosques in Herat. Now, feeling adrift in a sea of darkness, he shook himself awake every morning before dawn to develop a ritual that began with one hour of intense meditation.

Alone with his litany of questions, he sat perfectly still and silent but for the static of his worry: what do I do now, who will take care of me, how can I help my family, what will become of my life? Beneath the thick straw roof blanketed by that winter’s heavy snowfall, he concentrated on thoughts that reached through the cold darkness to find answers that slowly brightened his spirit, warmed his heart, and strengthened his resolve. By candlelight he went on for two more hours to study for his classes, geography, mathematics, English. At 7:00 a.m. his mother called him to join his four siblings for breakfast before seeing him out the door to school. Chores at the family home and its surrounding farmland would be waiting for him at the end of each long day.

Today Sadiq expresses gratitude for receiving such a strong spiritual foundation early in his life, and he credits meditation with transforming the sadness of his father’s death into a powerful inspiration. Believing that “life is energy,” Sadiq fixed his mind on positive thoughts of how to follow in his late father’s footsteps

“After five or six months I understood that I had to become the father myself – and if my efforts were sincere, then the power of the universe, God, would be there to support me. I knew I would be able to go on and make a life for myself. I did not doubt it.”

As an eighth-grade student, Sadiq quickly rose to the top of his class. He evolved into an assistant teacher, helping to lead classes of 30-40 students. His love of learning, ability to study independently and evolving fluency in English greatly impressed his teachers. This recognition, along with the support and encouragement of his mother, bolstered his confidence and fueled his ambitions.

During high school Sadiq enhanced his education by continuing to show foreign visitors the art and history of Herat. Located in the center of Persia, at the crossroads of ancient trades routes, Herat fascinated Sadiq as a voluminous repository of an artistic culture many thousands of years old. He saw the city as a unique and magical place holding its spirited past inside ancient buildings filled to the brim with precious artworks; a Mecca of creativity that produced greatly revered artists, such as Ustad Kamal Behzad (the most renowned Medieval Persian painter), or Khwajah Abdullah Ansari (a famous Persian poet of the 11^th century); an environment embracing its past into the present day with architecture of centuries-old structures; and the purposeful design of artisan’s tools and handicrafts, all telling stories of a rich tradition and longstanding lifestyle. And, in this kaleidoscopic cultural landscape Sadiq’s mind swirled with endless curiosities

“I wanted to know: how did people live in that former time, what did they wear, how did they build, how did they decorate? And, I would visit the city’s museums where artifacts, like 2,000 year-old coins, would make me wonder: what is the value of these coins, and what did people buy with them?”

In exchange for his tours, Sadiq continued gaining knowledge of foreign languages and culture. He yearned to see the world outside of Afghanistan and got his first chance at 14 when he accompanied his grandmother on a visit to relatives in Iran. It was not typical, he says, for people to travel outside of their local communities, especially at a young age. He extended this journey on his own, traveling by bus throughout Iran, Turkey and Iraq.

“That trip really opened my eyes to the world outside of Herat,” he says, “and it gave me a sense of how commerce and trade is done between different cities and countries.”

How to make money was particularly important to Sadiq at this time because his father’s export business was languishing under inexperienced employees and directors. The revenue that used to come to his family was dwindling to nothing, and he felt pressed to forge new opportunities.

“Many decisions were made by the new management who took over,” he says, “and their decisions didn’t lead to good results. My father was very intelligent with his process of import and export to the international markets, particularly Europe. He knew the value and quality of every product he sold – pistachios, sugar, cashmere wool and hand-woven rugs. He had an excellent sense for the market’s deman, predicting how much of each product to import and at what price to sell in a free market.

“For example,” Sadiq explains, “with pistachios, you have to know the right timing and process: when and how much to pick, how to clean, how to sort and store in a proper warehouses, how to deliver, how to price, and how to sell at the best time. The window of opportunity to sell to the European markets was very critical – just two months out of the year. If you missed the timing then all was lost.”

(To be continued….)

If you need insight into the regional environment we’re trying to support, take a look at Peter Tomsen’s book The Wars of Afghanistan, and a stirring documentary short, entitled “A Darkness Visible: Afghanistan,” by Seamus Murphy, one of the world’s best documentary photographers.

Let’s start with the book.

I did say “look,” since consuming this tome on the messianic terrorism, tribal conflicts and historical failures of great powers in Afghanistan may seem daunting. At 700+ pages, the book’s sheer size foretells the complexity of issues woven into the tattered fabric of a region at odds with itself, and seemingly everyone else, for millennia. Tomsen, who is a retired diplomat and educator and served as U.S. envoy to Afghanistan from 1989-92, has rare insight into the factions, influences and personalities that continue to percolate inside a caldron of instability provoked most recently by Taliban rule and the influences of Al-Quaida – but in fact, which reach back to the Soviet invasion in 1980, the British attempt at annexation in 1838 and, further still, to Alexander the Great.

Any serious attempt at understanding the current needs of the Afghan people could be well served by starting on page 1 of Tomsen’s book – and then, buckling up for a jarring ride over the historical terrain of a country in the grip of perpetual war, with a superb modern-day storyteller of high intellect at the wheel.

For those who contend that pictures paint a thousand words, the impressions conveyed through Seamus Murphy’s visual discourse on Afghanistan’s past 30 years are no less impactful – and in some ways even more immediate, as he loosely traces a family of men he met in Kabul, from Soviet invasion to the present. The video, which can be viewed for free at MediaStorm, is exceptional in the depth of its content accumulated over the years and the sensitivity that Murphy shows for his subjects, and the country at large.

For context, Murphy is an active member of VII Photo Agency, whose cadre of photojournalists are the rock stars of battlefield photography and have produced some of the world’s most iconic documentary images. Its stated mission is to produce an unflinching record of the injustices created and experienced by people caught up in the events of war, and the agency has lent Murphy, as well as legendary photographers like Ron Haviv, Antonin Kratochvil and James Nachtwey (see: World Trade Center 2001), a platform for depicting regional conflict from the inside-out – often at great peril and always with a keen eye on the impact of war on the local population… as well as the hope that seemingly abject destruction can spawn.

Witnessing the consequences of war in Afghanistan through Murphy’s eyes will take about 30 min., but could have a lasting impression on how you view that part of the world. You’ll also get a better feeling for why the work we’re doing at AAS is so critical – and that hope can also spring from construction, as demonstrated by our efforts to a build high-quality medical facility outside Herat.

Leave us a comment if you pick up the book or have a chance to watch the video.