Misplaced Optimism Despite

By John Elson

When the last of the Soviet Union's 115,000 troops rumbled out of Afghanistan last February, the common wisdom saw it as a whimpering finale to Moscow's Viet Nam. Surely it would be only a matter of time -- months at most -- before the collapse of the Kabul government led by President Najibullah, the weak puppet left in place by the withdrawing Soviets. Succeeding him would be an interim government composed of seven U.S.- and Pakistan-backed mujahedin factions.

So much for conventional wisdom. This week, when Secretary of State James Baker flies to Moscow for talks with Foreign Minister Eduard Shevardnadze, Afghanistan will be high on the agenda: namely, Soviet requests for negotiations to devise a political settlement of the stalemated war between the mujahedin and the Kabul forces. Moscow will complain, moreover, that the ongoing fighting is fueled by arms from the U.S., a violation of the Geneva accord that led to the Soviet troop withdrawal. But Baker is unlikely to respond favorably. The National Security Council has concluded that the rebels need more time to prove their military mettle before the U.S. considers any substantial change in its policy of supporting them. President George Bush argued that it would be "unfair" to stop arming the mujahedin as long as the Soviets are handing over vast quantities of weapons to Kabul.

What clouded Washington's initially rosy scenario was the surprising tenacity of the Najibullah government. Few thought the leader handpicked by the Soviets could survive the departure of Moscow's troops, but he has moved with unexpected astuteness, politically and militarily. A much heralded mujahedin assault on the city of Jalalabad has bogged down in a costly siege. In a battle plan now called a "disaster" by a U.S. official, the guerrillas failed to make the transition from hit-and-run attackers to disciplined militiamen able to plan and carry out complicated offensives.

On the political front, U.S. optimism also seems misplaced. Some experts are worried that the mujahedin leader who has received the lion's share of U.S. support, Gulbuddin Hekmatyar, is a fanatic Muslim who might turn out to be Afghanistan's version of the Ayatullah Khomeini. Others wonder whether the mujahedin coalition, linked by hatred of the Najibullah regime, could stay together long enough to form an effective government.

The mujahedin's political disarray is heightened by the military stalemate at Jalalabad. On March 6, a force of 10,000 guerrillas launched an assault on the city, which was defended by an estimated 11,000 government troops. From ! the rebel perspective, Jalalabad was a logical, indeed necessary target. Government forces occupied 25 of Afghanistan's 31 provincial capitals. Seizing Jalalabad, the third largest city, would not only wound the fragile morale of government troops, but it would also enhance the rebels' bid for wider international recognition of their newly formed government-in-exile. Some mujahedin leaders confidently predicted that the city would fall within a week.

The rebels quickly shut down the airport and overran a government garrison at Samarkhel, south of Jalalabad. But their frontal attacks on the city were repulsed. The fighting now consists mostly of duels between government artillery and rebel rockets that have led only to horrendous civilian casualties.

Mustering his defenses from Kabul, Najibullah, a former head of the Afghan secret police who in 1986 succeeded another Soviet puppet, Babrak Karmal, has proved to be surprisingly resourceful. He has concentrated his formerly scattered troops in strategically important towns where they could dig in and count on some support from the urban middle class. He has played on the war weariness of the Afghan people with a series of peace-and-prosperity initiatives. "Najibullah is well organized and intelligent," one of the few diplomats still in Kabul told TIME's Paul Hofheinz, "which is more than you can say for the opposition."

Perhaps his most effective tactic, however, is to paint the mujahedin as pawns of a foreign power. Afghans abhor foreign invaders, and now that the Soviet army has gone, Najibullah has begun harping on how much the rebels are run by Pakistan and the U.S. His case has been helped by recent news accounts that Pakistani Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto had ordered Lieut. General Hamid Gul, head of Pakistan's military intelligence organization (ISI) to launch the bloody Jalalabad assault. Gul and the ISI are unmistakably doing their best to direct the mujahedin operations, but it seems likely that he told Bhutto of the impending attack rather than the reverse. Although the mujahedin cause remains popular, Pakistan's role in the rebel campaign, whether as arms supplier or back-door manager, has turned off some Afghans.

Because the U.S. has largely operated through the ISI, it is seen as endorsing Pakistan's vision of a friendly Islamic regime in Kabul. The rebel leader who most closely fills that bill is Hekmatyar, head of the best- disciplined guerrilla organization, Hezb-e-Islami (Islamic Party). Some ; Western experts are uncomfortable with Hekmatyar's plan to turn Afghanistan into a Muslim state governed by shari'a (Islamic law), which could take an anti-American course. Should Washington be supporting someone with the potential to be a U.S. enemy? Defenders say Hekmatyar, despite his Islamic zeal, is also a pragmatist. But abetting someone with a reputation for ruthlessness in pursuit of power could be incompatible with Washington's goal of peace and reconciliation.

What seemed like an easy victory for U.S. policy now appears to call for a more carefully calibrated approach. In February, while Moscow's troop pullout was in progress, Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev was looking to salvage some political face. He wrote to President Bush asking for U.S. help in setting up an international conference to end the fighting and create a broad-based coalition government that would include the Kabul Communists. Confident that the rebels' star was in the ascendant, the White House refused the request. But disappointment over the guerrillas' military failure has led policymakers to debate the wisdom of eyes-closed support to the mujahedin. For now, though, the U.S. has apparently decided to stand firm. "In a nutshell," said one adviser, "we still think our guys can win, and there is no reason for them, or us on their behalf, to sue for peace."

The mujahedin would almost certainly refuse a power-sharing deal anyway. The official rebel position is that Najibullah can have an amnesty but his surrender of power is a precondition to peace talks. In their view, he is the enemy, and Afghans have little inclination to forgive foes. "How can you expect the people to forget the blood loss of families, the destruction of entire villages?" asks a guerrilla leader in Peshawar. "How can you expect them to give up that feeling and say, 'Fine, let's sit down and talk'? It is like asking the Jews to pardon the Nazis and enter a government with them."

With reporting by Edward W. Desmond/Peshawar and Strobe Talbott/Washington