I have thought much on this in recent weeks having just read a book which is both uplifting and deeply distressing in equal measure about that blighted country Afghanistan. The book is by the chief foreign correspondent for the BBC, Lyse Doucet and titled “The Finest Hotel in Kabul”. It is beautifully written, heart warming yet tells a terrible tale. Doucet has spent much of her working life covering the continuing narrative of Afghanistan during the last 40 years of conflict, she knows the country and the people well and her book operates at a number of levels. It is the story of ordinary Afghans caught up in their daily lives, with the politics, the invasions and the wars raging around them and their country but it is also a history of social and political upheaval as various power players: Russia, USA, Britain, the Mujahideen, al-Qaeda, the Taliban and a host of others have vied for power and influence to suit their own ends. Just as in the 19th century, Russia, America and we Brits have played devious games to exert influence by, for example, funding and arming groups like the Mujahideen to fight proxy wars on our behalf. From 1979 to 1992, the U.S. CIA ran Operation Cyclone, a major covert program arming and financing Afghan mujahideen providing funding and weaponry to support Islamic resistance groups, aiming to disrupt Soviet influence. And then, when this all backfires and something like 9/11 occurs as an indirect consequence of these devious and often illegal interventions then Afghan suffers again with invasions or massive withdrawals by the world’s big players, leaving the country and the ordinary Afghanis flailing in a political, economic and cultural vacuum subject to the ravages of extremism. And in the midst of the turmoil ordinary Afghans try to live out some kind of normal, decent life but are too often swept along and overwhelmed by the terrible course of events, little of it of their making; to quote Lord Curzon, they are innocent pieces on a chessboard in the great game.
The book centres upon the Inter-Continental Hotel in Kabul and its story through the turbulent and tragic years since the 1970s as the country has staggered from one crisis, one invasion and one regime to another. The hotel, a five star place when first constructed (with British money) has been the venue of royalty, politicians, journalists (like Doucet), war loads, religious extremists and terrorists. From a glamorous venue it undergoes change after change to become a hollow shell ravaged by war but still open for business and proudly striving to keep up its status and high quality service. As I read the book it occurred to me that the hotel was almost a metaphor for Afghanistan and the Afghani people – struggling bravely on, striving to keep its culture and raison d’etre despite what the world throws at it. Doucet, a master story teller (as one would expect of a high ranking journalist whose trade is in the use of words), tells us the story of the hotel, of Kabul, of Afghanistan and of the ordinary people who work in the hotel and how they, their lives and their families are impacted by the great and tragic events going on around them each and every day. These are real people; it is not a work of fiction: Abida the middle aged lady chef, Sadeq the hotel front desk manager, Mohammad Aqa the restaurant manager, Hazrat the housekeeper and many more all of them, striving to keep their lives, their families, the career afloat, and their world together while at the mercy of powerful men in far away capitals: Washington, Moscow, London and in the remote mountains where religious extremists plan the next invasion as soon as the American marines and GIs, the Russian Spetsnaz and British squaddies leave when their respective governments get bored with the great game or count the cost, and move on. It is a story of the resilience and pride of ordinary Afghanis, who keep the hotel and their lives going despite the shelling, the rockets, the suicide bombs and occasional massacres of both staff and guests; it is both heartbreaking and heart warming in equal measure. Lyse Doucet is probably one of the world’s authorities on the life and the rich culture and heritage of Afghanistan; she has witnessed its history unfold on a daily basis. She understands the great issues at play and encapsulates it all in this wonderful memoir which despite the terrible events of the past half century in that land finds so much to inspire, applaud and empathise with. It is a book filled with compassion, love and hope, a paean to a proud but ill used people; a people who, just like us, want no more than to be safe, to educate and give a good life to their children, have food on the table, be cared for when they or their family are old, worship their God if they have one – all the things that speak of our humanity and make us human beings.
It is a book that deserves to be read. Not because it is a good story or because it is true or because it 
is about real people, or even because it is so beautifully crafted and written. It should be read because it is a reminder of how easily great evil and injustice is done in the name of politics or political “games” played by powerful people and nations for their own ends. It should be read because it gives a context to our times. It allows us to remember that when we see the events in a place like Afghanistan taking place on our TV screen, or we read of Afghan people arriving on our shores seeking refuge that these are real people who have endured things that we in Britain – or anywhere else in the “comfortable” west - could not begin to comprehend and most of it rooted in the “great game” being played in our name by those we have elected. These refugees arrive on our shores often as a direct or certainly an indirect result of our actions over a century and a half until today and many in our country abuse them on social media, in the tabloid press and in our mindless and wilfully ignorant Reform party, and on our flag emblazoned, jingoistic streets while in the same breath lauding the "virtues" of the British Empire whose obscene “great game” was at the root of all this. It is a game still, 150 years after Lord Curzon first used the term, being played out at the behest and whim of politicians in Washington, Moscow – and yes, here in London. It is the story of man’s great humanity and man’s great inhumanity; it is the story of a nation rich in culture and wisdom that has been successively used and abused by others – including, unforgivably, by our own British government – for their own ends. That is why the book is important and should be read.
