By Pamela Constable
Washington Post Foreign Service
Tuesday, October 7, 2003; Page A01

KABUL, Afghanistan -- On a dust-choked desert that reverberated with deafening booms, 25 soldiers nervously waited their turn to fire shoulder-held rockets at a derelict Soviet tank. Each time a rocket thudded into the sand, the unlucky marksman was greeted with derisive hoots. But each time the target flashed fire and billowed dust, a cheer went up from the watching troops.

The men hailed from 15 different provinces. Some were raw young recruits; others were veterans of Islamic militias that fought Soviet forces, Taliban guerrillas and each other with equal ferocity. But all agreed that these days a unified national army is essential to bring peace and stability to the country.

"My entire life has been spent fighting, but now my country needs me," said Mirza Selah, 23, from Paktia province. "The militia leaders got a lot of boys like me killed. We need to end these divisions, come together like brothers and build a single strong army."

While the geographic diversity and cohesive spirit of such troops inspire hope for the future of the fledgling Afghan national army, the process of recruiting, training and deploying the new force has been far slower and more difficult than originally envisioned.

After more than 18 months, only about 7,000 troops have completed training under British, French and American officers. The program has been plagued by delays, desertions and political interference from Afghan defense officials.

Many of the volunteers are former guerrilla fighters, tough and adept at operating in small irregular units but totally unfamiliar with conventional warfare and military discipline. Some were reluctant to cut their hair; others could not adapt to regimented barracks life. By various estimates, up to 20 percent of initial recruits dropped out.

"We had a lot more freedom during jihad" against Soviet occupation, said a 27-year-old sergeant from Badakhshan province. "But sometimes we had no food. We fought in the mountains and the deserts. I like this better."

The sergeant said several of those he knew who had served in militias left the army training program after a few months. "We do have less freedom," he said, "but we have more order and discipline."

For those old enough to have served in the last regular Afghan army under the Communist-led government of the 1980s, there have been other major changes. Most officers have had to accept demotion by at least two ranks, as well as adjust to a cultural reorientation from the formal, top-down style of Soviet command.

The combat tactics they once learned -- with infantry advancing in straight lines and vulnerable to heavy casualties -- have little in common with the way they are being taught by Western instructors, who emphasize irregular formations, heavy covering fire and more independent battlefield judgments by lower-level officers.

"They were used to waiting for orders from generals, not having any ability to react," said Lt. Tony Hellier, a British commando who is instructing a class of sergeants in mortar, artillery and rocket firing. Noncommissioned officers are trained "to make decisions in the field, which is important for counterinsurgency, and we're also big on public relations with the populace, because otherwise they won't get any intelligence about the enemy."

Hellier, who watched silently Saturday while Afghan instructors showed the troops how to load, aim and fire rockets, described the trainees as "well-motivated," but he acknowledged that the going has been rough. "Some of them have a lot of experience fighting, but they lack equipment, ammunition, instruction and administrative capacity," he said. "Obviously, we are looking at a long-term project here."

The slow pace of training has meant that few Afghan troops are fully ready to operate in the field, where officials hope they can eventually replace international peacekeepers in patrolling Kabul, and substitute for both U.S. forces and poorly trained Defense Ministry troops in fighting the resurgent Taliban and other anti-government factions.

The delays have also exacerbated setbacks in the ambitious, U.N.-mandated project to disarm and demobilize tens of thousands of regional militia forces whose commanders -- some notoriously abusive or corrupt, others constantly feuding with rivals -- still hold power in many parts of the country. The first formal demobilizations now are scheduled to begin this month.

Political meddling has held back the army's progress as much as technical weakness. According to Afghan and U.S. officials, Defense Minister Mohammed Fahim and his allied militia leaders tried to stack the recruiting process with their own loyalists, and it took Western military officials months to establish a genuinely diverse troop base with recruits from every region and ethnic group.

"We couldn't just go around putting up posters that said, 'Uncle Karzai Wants You,' " said a senior U.S. officer who has worked closely with the program, referring to Afghan President Hamid Karzai. But he said that over time, the ethnic and regional mix has improved greatly and that the program is "still on target," with a force of about 9,000 troops expected to be combat-ready by next summer.

From a random sampling of several different units undergoing training last week, the diversity of the infantry corps was evident. And in dozens of interviews between field exercises, soldiers from widely varying backgrounds insisted that they got along well and understood the importance of a fair ethnic mix for the army's success.

"Look at us. We are from Kandahar, from Takhar, but we are all members of one family," said Sher Mahmad Babakarkhel, 28, a former militia fighter from Nangahar province, gesturing toward several comrades from north and south. He had fought for Abdul Haq, an ethnic Pashtun militia leader who was killed in 2001; others fought with a variety of commanders. "But that's over now," he said. "The only divisions left are the ones at the top, and our job is to end them."

The further one goes up the chain of command, however, the less diversity has taken hold. Although Fahim has made numerous speeches endorsing the importance of a multi-ethnic army, sources said his Defense Ministry has managed to place many former militia commanders -- especially ethnic Tajiks from the Panjshir Valley -- in senior army posts.

In some cases, the sources said, Panjshiri militia commanders have circumvented minimum educational requirements to become national army officers by producing false documents. Without qualified and balanced leadership, one Afghan military source said, "we will never be a serious national army."

According to a report released last week by the International Crisis Group, a nonprofit organization based in Brussels that monitors developments in Afghanistan, the continued prevalence of one ethnic group at higher command levels could seriously hinder the new army's effectiveness in a multi-ethnic society. As a result, the report said, an expanded international peacekeeping role will be essential to disarm militia forces.

In regions where new army forces have been deployed, such as Paktia province, local reaction has been positive. But Afghan and U.S. officials in such regions say the few available army troops are already stretched thin, with few waiting to replace them.

At a recent basic training exercise for inexperienced recruits, enthusiasm and ineptitude were equally evident in these volunteers, most of whom were too young to have fought in any of the country's guerrilla wars. In relays, each four-man squad was sent out into the desert, with instructions to protect one another and advance against an invisible enemy.

Rushing forward, the men threw themselves down into the dust, aiming their empty rifles and calling out "pow-pow-pow" like children playing soldier. Then, on command, they rolled over and leapfrogged ahead, tossing imaginary grenades and diving for cover.

"Don't forget to shout, 'Allah is great,' " cried one Afghan instructor as he followed the squad at a trot.

"Cover him! Cover him!" he screamed as one soldier dashed ahead of his comrade, making action-film gunfire sounds as he ran. "No! No!" the instructor shouted, throwing up his hands in frustration. "Now you've killed yourself!"