Ghulam Siddiq Miraki is the highest-ranking Afghan official to have defected to the rebels with their headquarters in Peshawar. He was one of the four deputies to the chief of the Soviet-trained intelligence agency known as Khad and held the rank of lieutenant-general. Western diplomats in Pakistan, who closely follow developments in Afghanistan, have confirmed his identity and background. This could be part of an elaborate disinformation (deliberate attempt to sow confusion among the Afghans loyal to the regime) exercise. But it does not appear to be. One piece of evidence in support of this proposition could be a recent interview by President Zia-ul-Haq in which he spoke of guerrilla activities on the Soviet border itself. It looks as if this was based on Miraki’s disclosures. For in his interview to The Guardian, London, he has spoken of clashes inside the Soviet border. In theory there is also the possibility that Miraki has been sent into the Mujahideen camp by the Soviets to confuse them. But the Pakistanis have put him through long debriefing and they are convinced that he is a genuine defector. Indeed, there is an incontrovertible proof of his genuineness – his claim of long association with Hezb e Islami (the fundamentalist organisation) which the organisation’s leader, Gulbuddin Hekmatyar in Peshawar, is in a position to verify.
This is a good enough basis for accepting one of the highly significant points Miraki has made in his interview to The Guardian (December 16 issue). Which is that the Mujahideen have managed to infiltrate into all organs of the Babrak Karmal regime including the intelligence and the armed forces. While he may be exaggerating the magnitude of this infiltration, there cannot be much doubt that it must be causing considerable concern to the Soviets and their genuine Afghan supporters. Beyond that we are on less firm ground in dealing with Miraki’s “revelations”. He has said that the then Soviet prime minister, Mr. Kosygin, and Mr. Andropov as head of the KGB were opposed to Mr. Brezhnev’s decision to sent Soviet troops into Afghanistan in December 1979. This could well be the case. But to force a decision of this importance on his politburo colleagues would appear to be contrary to Mr. Brezhnev’s style of leadership. At the height of his power in the late sixties and early seventies, he was no more than first among equals. In 1979 he was in such poor health that his future was a subject of constant speculation. He was also known for his cautious approach. By the same token, it is difficult to accept at its face value Miraki’s “disclosure” that frustrated by the performance of the Afghan army, Mr. Brezhnev “once planned to annex the whole country” and that at a later stage he “wanted to dismember it and put the northern part of the country between the Soviet border and the Hindu Kush border under complete Soviet control”. The Soviet leadership has been much too concerned with the world reaction to its actions to think of such a drastic move. But Miraki’s interview strengthens the view that the Soviets have put themselves in a trap in Afghanistan from which there can be no quick and cheap exit.