アメリカの政治学者ジェラルド・カーティス氏が、「東京新聞」の「時代を読む」欄で、アフガニスタン支援について「日本は人道的支援を」と指摘されています。

「大切なのは、経済大国で、自衛以外の武力行使をしないとする民主主義の国家にふさわしい貢献ができるように、政府が資金と人材を提供することである」「日本はアフガンに舞台を派遣していないことに引け目を感じる必要はない」「日本は従来、まず米国が日本に何を期待しているのかを知ろうし、国内で強い反対が生じるのを避けつつ、米国が納得する最低限の対応を行う姿勢を続けてきたが、これは時代遅れの対応だ」「オバマ政賢の要求を探るよりも、アフガンなどで何をすればもっとも国益に資するかを日本人自身が議論し、日本政府の決定を米国に伝えればよい」などなど、非常にごもっともです。

【時代を読む】日本は人道的支援を

[東京新聞 2009年2月1日付朝刊]

ジェラルド・カーティス

　私の娘が先日、あるアフガニスタンの少女が通う学校に関する米ニューヨーク・タイムズ紙の記事（1月14日付）を読むことを勧めるメールを送ってきた。
　少女らに読み書きを教えるのに反対する旧政権タリバンのメンバーが、少女らの学校を攻撃、17歳の少女らの顔に酸を浴びせた。学校は安全対策に努めて授業を続け、顔に傷を受けた女学生らは、攻撃の危険にもかかわらず学校に通い続けている。
　記事には次のような記述もある。「日本政府の援助でミルワイス女学校が建設されてから5年、ある種の社会革命が始まっている。タリバンがカンダハル周辺で圧力を強めていても、少女たちは毎朝、学校に集う。多くの少女は山間にある泥れんがの自宅から3キロ以上も歩いて通う」
　娘は「私たちは日本政府がこうした分野で、このように関与しているのをなぜ知らされていないのか。日本の安全保障政策などの月並みな記事よりずっと大切なのに」とメールに書いていた。同感だ。
　オバマ米大統領はイラクの米軍戦闘部隊を撤収し、アフガンに増派する方針だ。北大西洋条約機構（NATO）諸国などにもアフガンてこ入れ強化を求めている。国際テロ組織アルカイダを粉砕し、アフガンを国際テロの温床ではなくするための闘争で、日本は傍観者たり得ない。
　だからといって、日本の関与が軍事的なものである必要はない。日本の国際協力機構（JICA）はアフガンで重要な役割を果たしてきたし、一層大きな役割を担うことも可能だ。大切なのは、経済大国で、自衛以外の武力行使をしないとする民主主義国家の日本にふさわしい貢献ができるように、政府が資金と人材を提供することである。
　私はアフガンがオバマ大統領の外交政策のアキレス腱になりはしないか、オバマ大統領は、政府が腐敗し国土を実効支配できていない国の平定という不毛な努力で増派を繰り返すのではないかと懸念している。米国が終わりなき戦いの泥沼に陥る危険がある。
　オバマ大統領はアフガンにおける米国の軍事目標を限定すべきだ。テロ攻撃を企てる輩の排除に軍事力を行使する必要はある。だが、ブッシュ政権のネオコン（新保守主義者）たちは、軍事力でアフガンに民主主義をもたらし、将来もアフガンを勢力下に置くという非現実的な目標を設定した。オバマ政権はこうした政策と決別する必要がある。
　日本はアフガンに部隊を派遣していないことに引け目を感じる必要はない。日本政府当局者や自民党の政治家たちの発言の中に、派遣したいが憲法九条の規定でできないと示唆しているようなものがあるが、米国など諸外国に、日本は憲法九条を言い訳に使っていると思わせるだけだ。
　日本は従来、まず米国が日本に何を期待しているのかを知ろうとし、国内で強い反対が生じるのを避けつつ、米国が納得する最低限の対応を行う姿勢を続けてきたが、これは時代遅れの対応だ。オバマ政権の要求を探るよりも、アフガンなどで何をすれば最も国益に資するかを日本人自身が議論し、日本政府の決定を米国に伝えればいい。
　象徴的行為として自衛隊部隊を派遣するのでは、国際社会の評価はもとより日本国民の支持は得られない。大規模な人道的支援、あの少女の学校建設のような支援が、はるかに有意義である。（本社客員、米コロンビア大学教授）

ちなみに、カーティス氏が娘さんから勧められたニューヨーク・タイムズ紙の記事はこれ↓。酸をかけられたという少女の火傷の痕が痛々しいです。

Afghan Girls, Scarred by Acid, Defy Terror, Embracing School – NYTimes.com

Afghan Girls, Scarred by Acid, Defy Terror, Embracing School

[The New York Times Published: January 13, 2009]

By DEXTER FILKINS

KANDAHAR, Afghanistan — One morning two months ago, Shamsia Husseini and her sister were walking through the muddy streets to the local girls school when a man pulled alongside them on a motorcycle and posed what seemed like an ordinary question.

"Are you going to school?"

Then the man pulled Shamsia's burqa from her head and sprayed her face with burning acid. Scars, jagged and discolored, now spread across Shamsia's eyelids and most of her left cheek. These days, her vision goes blurry, making it hard for her to read.

But if the acid attack against Shamsia and 14 others — students and teachers — was meant to terrorize the girls into staying home, it appears to have completely failed.

Today, nearly all of the wounded girls are back at the Mirwais School for Girls, including even Shamsia, whose face was so badly burned that she had to be sent abroad for treatment. Perhaps even more remarkable, nearly every other female student in this deeply conservative community has returned as well — about 1,300 in all.

"My parents told me to keep coming to school even if I am killed," said Shamsia, 17, in a moment after class. Shamsia's mother, like nearly all of the adult women in the area, is unable to read or write. "The people who did this to me don't want women to be educated. They want us to be stupid things."

In the five years since the Mirwais School for Girls was built here by the Japanese government, it appears to have set off something of a social revolution. Even as the Taliban tighten their noose around Kandahar, the girls flock to the school each morning. Many of them walk more than two miles from their mud-brick houses up in the hills.

The girls burst through the school's walled compound, many of them flinging off head-to-toe garments, bounding, cheering and laughing in ways that are inconceivable outside — for girls and women of any age. Mirwais has no regular electricity, no running water, no paved streets. Women are rarely seen, and only then while clad in burqas that make their bodies shapeless and their faces invisible.

And so it was especially chilling on Nov. 12, when three pairs of men on motorcycles began circling the school. One of the teams used a spray bottle, another a squirt gun, another a jar. They hit 11 girls and 4 teachers in all; 6 went to the hospital. Shamsia fared the worst.

The attacks appeared to be the work of the Taliban, the fundamentalist movement that is battling the government and the American-led coalition. Banning girls from school was one of the most notorious symbols of the Taliban's rule before they were ousted from power in November 2001.

Building new schools and ensuring that children — and especially girls — attend has been one of the main objectives of the government and the nations that have contributed to Afghanistan's reconstruction. Some of the students at the Mirwais school are in their late teens and early 20s, attending school for the first time. Yet at the same time, in the guerrilla war that has unfolded across southern and eastern Afghanistan, the Taliban have made schools one of their special targets.

But exactly who was behind the acid attack is a mystery. The Taliban denied any part in it. The police arrested eight men and, shortly after that, the Ministry of Interior released a video showing two men confessing. One of them said he had been paid by an officer with the Directorate for Inter-Services Intelligence, the Pakistani intelligence agency, to carry out the attack.

But at a news conference last week, Hamid Karzai, the Afghan president, said there was no such Pakistani involvement.

One thing is certain: in the months before the attack, the Taliban had moved into the Mirwais area and the rest of Kandahar's outskirts. As they did, posters began appearing in local mosques.

"Don't Let Your Daughters Go to School," one of them said.

In the days after the attack, the Mirwais School for Girls stood empty; none of the parents would let their daughters venture outside. That is when the headmaster, Mahmood Qadari, got to work.

After four days of staring at empty classrooms, Mr. Qadari called a meeting of the parents. Hundreds came to the school — fathers and mothers — and Mr. Qadari implored them to let their daughters return. After two weeks, a few returned.

So, Mr. Qadari, whose three daughters live abroad, including one in Virginia, enlisted the support of the local government. The governor promised more police officers, a footbridge across a busy nearby road and, most important, a bus. Mr. Qadari called another meeting and told the parents that there was no longer any reason to hold their daughters back.

"I told them, if you don't send your daughters to school, then the enemy wins," Mr. Qadari said. "I told them not to give in to darkness. Education is the way to improve our society."

The adults of Mirwais did not need much persuading. Neither the bus nor the police nor the bridge has materialized, but the girls started showing up anyway. Only a couple of dozen girls regularly miss school now; three of them are girls who had been injured in the attack.

"I don't want the girls sitting around and wasting their lives," said Ghulam Sekhi, an uncle of Shamsia and her sister, Atifa, age 14, who was also burned.

For all the uncertainty outside its walls, the Mirwais school brims with life. Its 40 classrooms are so full that classes are held in four tents, donated by Unicef, in the courtyard. The Afghan Ministry of Education is building a permanent building as well.

The past several days at the school have been given over to examinations. In one classroom, a geography class, a teacher posed a series of questions while her students listened and wrote their answers on paper.

"What is the capital of Brazil?" the teacher, named Arja, asked, walking back and forth.

"Now, what are its major cities?"

"By how many times is America larger than Afghanistan?"

At a desk in the front row, Shamsia, the girl with the burned face, pondered the questions while cupping a hand over her largest scar. She squinted down at the paper, rubbed her eyes, wrote something down.

Doctors have told Shamsia that her face may need plastic surgery if there is to be any chance of the scars disappearing. It is a distant dream: Shamsia's village does not even have regular electricity, and her father is disabled.

After class, Shamsia blended in with the other girls, standing around, laughing and joking. She seemed un-self-conscious about her disfigurement, until she began to recount her ordeal.

"The people who did this," she said, "do not feel the pain of others."

この記事を読むと、カーティス氏の娘さんのように、どうして日本政府は、自分たちがこうした関与をしていることを国民に知らせないのか? という疑問がわいてきます。