Early Days on the Job

A large part of my job here is to mentor Afghan prosecutors. That has more parts than I realized when I headed over here. Part of it is relatively simple. I've been a prosecutor for a long time (despite my youthful appearance as I like to say) and I know more about how to put a case together and how to direct an investigation than most of these people. That's not saying that much. Most of the prosecutors here (in these special units) seem smart and hard working. However, even if they have a few years experience, it has largely come in a system with so few resources and so much interference that they are happy to convict the person in front of them and move on. In a country with the biggest drug dealers in the world (the court here doesn't take heroin cases unless they involve more than two kilos), that doesn't begin to cut it. So they need advice and I'm trying. There's a long way to go. But the other parts of the job are more difficult. First, we have to try to make sure the cases are followed vigorously. Without a computerized tracking system or a real docket system, that's not easy but it's vital to make sure a case doesn't "disappear." Second, and worse, we have to protect the line prosecutors from having a case disappeared on them from above, Without going into detail, that does happen. The prosecutors here are not in a good position to argue. However, if we, the US and British mentors, are aware of the case and ask about it we can find out what happened and can often prevent it. The prosecutors love us for that - they seem to appreciate all we do but they are also remarkably courteous so it's hard to tell, based on my extensive 21/2 weeks of experience.
But a few days ago we had a third level of "interference." One of the prosecutors received very believable death threats and ransom demands. He is a man with four children and rightfully took the threats seriously. We did get an investigation going and think we have dealt with it now. As of last week, though, the prosecutor was seeking protection and hadn't gotten it yet. He lives with his family in a three room house and several of his armed brothers from a rural area had moved in with him for the time being but he wanted some official protection. After one of our visits, when we discovered he hadn't gotten it yet, we (two of us mentors) went to see a military officer in charge of one of the protection units. The meeting was a perfect example of clashing attempts to communicate and clashing cultures, I guess. The officer was very polite and well spoken (through an interpreter). He also was a very imposing figure, very erect in his well fitting uniform, a very weathered face and an expression that he had been in more dangerous places than we had ever read about. (Not hard to believe for an army officer in Afghanistan) He was sympathetic, in his way. On the other hand, the prosecutor's safety wasn't really his responsibility; he was responsible for a different branch of security; and his resources were very strained. The officer also explained that he had offered some help earlier but it had been refused because the prosecutor wanted more help than had been offered. All that was true but the prosecutor's life was still very much in danger and only this officer could send an armed guard NOW (it was late afternoon) home with him tonight, when we had reason to believe the threat was particularly acute. We explained our position and the officer explained his and we repeated. We went around and around for a while. Our position was very direct - the prosecutor's life was in danger because of his work and only the officer could help him. His position was very indirect - resources were limited, it wasn't really his problem, he didn't have any orders on the subject, help had been offered and refused, the whole matter could be re-examined further in the next few days, etc. Anyway, this went on for quite a while, with us making a really rude, I guess, direct request after being turned down, and the officer not turning us down but not agreeing either. Happily, after what seemed a very long time, the officer changed his mind and agreed to have an armed soldier not only drive the prosecutor home but stay with his family. Our relief was nearly palpable. But as the tension ratcheted down, I noticed what had been on the (muted) TV in the corner of the large office: Elmer Fudd. All the time we were going around and around about the need for protection for this prosecutor, Elmer Fudd was chasing the Wascally Wabbit. I kid you not; I'm not smart enough nor familiar enough with TV to make this up. Whatever else I do here in this unfortunate country, I will never forget the scene, the tension or my feeling on realizing what was on the TV.
P.S By the way, we think we have identified the source of the threat but the guard remains on duty and the prosecutor thinks we are pretty good people - actually he did anyway, he's one of the best in the whole unit. Jim.