How Afghanistan is ramping up its fight against corruption
KABUL, Afghanistan — They were important men — tall and imposing, well-dressed and wellconnected, used to giving orders and getting respect. One was a white-haired army general, the other a wealthy entrepreneur — both members of the Afghan elite considered too powerful to touch.
But last week, Gen. Mohammad Moeen Faqir, the former commander of embattled Helmand Province, and Abdul Ghafar Dawi, the director of a large fuel company and other businesses, chafed in silence as prosecutors in an anti-corruption court charged them with embezzlement and abuse of authority.
The two brief trials, which concluded with prison terms and large fines imposed on both men, were among a clutch of high-profile anti-corruption cases brought by the Afghan government in recent weeks. The other convicted defendants included prison officials who made deals to release inmates early, bank officials who made loans with fake collateral and senior military officers who schemed to steal thousands of gallons of generator fuel.
Together, the cases are part of an accelerating campaign, headed by Attorney General Farid Hamidi, to convince the Afghan public and Afghanistan’s foreign backers that the government, plagued by a raft of other problems, is making significant progress in efforts to end an entrenched culture of impunity and entitlement among the country’s military and civilian elites.
“When we started out, everyone was skeptical. Now they are starting to believe,” said Hamidi, who was appointed 18 months ago by President Ashraf Ghani. “These cases show that money and power are not a guarantee. We face many difficulties, but we are committed. We still do not have complete justice in Afghanistan, but we no longer have complete impunity.”
There have been complaints that Hamidi was failing to go after the most influential Afghans linked to corruption, and that the effort was politically motivated or aimed at distracting the international community from the government’s failures. But such criticism has diminished as prosecutors have worked through several hundred cases, taken prominent people into custody for trial and sent some of them to prison.
To date, Hamidi’s aides said, 1,097 cases have been tried in three anti-corruption courts, 468 people have been sent to prison, and repayments and fines totaling more than $14 million have been ordered. In the generator fuel scheme, two army colonels were sent to prison for 18 and 20 years and fined more than $1.5 million.
“This is unprecedented,” said Kawun Kakar, managing partner of a private law firm in Kabul. “After years in which nobody, not a deputy minister or a general, has been tried or convicted of corruption, in the past year there have been a number of high officials and well-connected people convicted. It is a very stark contrast.” Even if progress has been slow, he added, “they are laying the groundwork for larger, more organized cases with even wider implications.”
Rohullah Abed, executive director of the justice center, where the trials took place, put it another way. When “powerful people see us coming, they are a little afraid now,” he said.
They also fight back, hiring multiple defense lawyers, packing courtrooms with supporters and rebutting charges with an array of arguments. During their recent trials, both Faqir and Dawi seemed confident and relaxed, exchanging nods and smiles with co-defendants and lawyers as they listened to the proceedings, and greeting well-wishers during court breaks as guards with handcuffs hovered at a respectful distance.
In the end, the three-judge panel sentenced Faqir to nine years in prison and ordered him to repay $1.2 million for the military rations.
In Dawi’s case, the judges listened politely until every defendant and lawyer had spoken. When they returned from deliberating, they ordered Dawi to be imprisoned for nine years and pay multimillion-dollar fines. Dawi, struggling to keep his composure, turned and faced the courtroom wall.