Afghanistan: A future stolen

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Following the chaotic withdrawal from Afghanistan, the West must not abandon its people – especially its women and girls – to an awful fatewrites Glyn Strong

Picking up the pieces

When did Afghanistan become the elephant in the room? For me it was the day that a letter in my village magazine berated our local MP for putting the needs of refugees higher up the agenda than ‘the pothole situation’ on her doorstep. Coming just weeks after the launch of Operation Warm Welcome it struck a somewhat discordant note.

Image © Christian Jepsen/Norwegian Refugee Council

The evacuation in August had been hailed as an overwhelming success. True, there were disturbing scenes of violence at Kabul Airport – and who could forget the sight of the man so desperate to leave his country that he clung to the wheel arch of a departing C17 – but the UK did evacuate 15,000 people; Prime Minister Boris Johnson hailed Operation Pitting as “one of the great achievements of our UK Armed Services and their civilian counterparts in the post-war era” and medals were awarded accordingly.

But what next? While praising the operation to get so many key people out of Afghanistan presented politicians with the opportunity to snatch a small victory from the jaws of a large defeat, its halo effect didn’t last long and the international community is now faced with the reality of either punishing the de facto government – or punishing the Afghan people.

It’s an impasse that no-one wants to tackle. The range of stakeholders in Afghanistan’s future is diverse and opinion about the Taliban, polarised. Some believe that, with a humanitarian disaster of epic proportions looming, it’s time to heed General David Richards’ advice as he urges magnanimity in defeat.

“This undeniably is a defeat” he insists. “What happens next is hugely important to the men and women of the armed forces who fought there.” (During the UK’s 20 years of deployment in Afghanistan 457 armed forces personnel died and more than 240 lost limbs).

“The UK went into Afghanistan for strategic reasons, largely to ensure that it remained a friendly state and didn’t become part of the legacy of Osama bin Laden. The thousands of soldiers, sailors and airmen I commanded there as COMISAF and as Chief of the Defence Staff didn’t deserve to see this result. It’s another important reason why we must do our best to see that Afghanistan doesn’t fall back into the state that it was in the late 1990s.


“We can’t afford to punish and alienate the Afghan people – for strategic and moral reasons. This is not what we went to war to achieve; what is happening is the result of a political decision and it’s totally unacceptable. We must have a strategy that seeks to influence and not just punish the new government. It is morally wrong to condemn innocent people. By engaging with the moderate Taliban we can marginalise the less acceptable members and engage more meaningfully with those we can work with.”

Afghan assets were frozen when the Taliban took over, but without access to funds the country will implode. Hope, too, will die, making a mockery of the commitment to ‘enduring freedom’ that drove the US-led war on terror. The situation is now parlous – for the women, girls and young people who fear that their futures have been snatched away; for the families selling their children in order to buy food and firewood; and for those deemed to be ‘tainted’ by association with the previous regime and threatened with violence.

Further afield Afghan citizens wait in the limbo of displaced persons camps and, here in the UK, restive families kick their heels in hotels, dreaming of a visionary home that exists somewhere between memory and imagination.

Minister for Afghan Resettlement, Victoria Atkins, said, “The UK has made one of the largest commitments of any country to resettle at-risk Afghan citizens. More than 4,000 people have moved, or are being moved, into their new homes since the first ARAP flights in June. Through our huge cross- Government effort and in partnership with local authorities and the private rented sector, we will continue to secure permanent homes for Afghan families so they can settle and rebuild their lives.”

Compromise

Back in Afghanistan reports are contradictory. In some areas girls’ schools have been closed, but others say the Taliban are supportive of girls’ education. They are not a homogenous group however, which perhaps reinforces General Richards’ view that overtures to moderates will marginalise extremists. If a Taliban government is to survive, it must be pragmatic – and that means compromise. However, some believe that no spoon is long enough to sup with these particular ‘devils’.

Rahela Siddiqi, prominent activist and founder of the educational scholarship trust that bears her name, is one of them:

“Regarding any talks with the Taliban, all I can say is that there has been a great deal of violence and if the international community engages with the Taliban it must go in hard because innocent people have been killed. We (the Rahela Trust) are presently supporting 20 women through university in Afghanistan – in Helmand, in Kabul and in Kandahar – and 15 students who have graduated. Four of them have been threatened; one, who is divorced with a child, is in a desperate situation. The Taliban allow this only because they are at private universities.”

Rahela highlights an incident related to her by the cousin of a family in Kunduz. “The Taliban targeted them in early February. After watching them at lunch they joined the family to eat desert, then took out the 27-year old son to kill him. When his father pursued them, they shot him dead. Both bodies were later discovered, brutally disfigured.

“I couldn’t sit at the table with people who are murderers,” she insists. “Afghanistan is now hostage to the Taliban. They should know that if they want to lead a nation, they must show that they are with and for its people.”

So what’s the answer? Any handover of power is complicated, but the fall of the Afghan Government was unmoderated and unforeseen. The Taliban had no experience of statecraft or government. Blame, rumour and fear conspired to fuel a tsunami of panic that unnerved everyone.

New realities

Now, as the dust begins to settle, there are new realities to contend with – record drought, soaring food prices, internal displacement, severe economic downturn, extreme cold weather and the collapse of public services. Many NGOs have departed and sanctions against the Taliban have exacerbated the hardships that are impacting on the most vulnerable.

‘M’ who lives in Kandahar with his extended family, is one of them. He worked in a government office; when the regime collapsed, he lost his job and was targeted for ‘punishment’ by the Taliban. He stares death in the face – only the guise in which it arrives is uncertain. Will it be by violence, cold or starvation? Through friends he sends desperate WhatsApp texts asking for money, but the small amounts that get through don’t last long. He depends on the kindness of strangers, but they can’t give indefinitely.

Bibi Sakina, 38, lives in Charqala-e Waziraabad IDP camp in Kabul with her six children. The family is struggling to survive. Her oldest son collects garbage for recycling but can only earn 500-600 Afghani (less than £5) per month.

“Sometimes we don’t have any food to cook for a couple of days so we have to survive on tea and bread. The price of foodstuffs and fuel for heating and cooking has doubled since the takeover” Bibi Sakina explains through the Norwegian Refugee Council. “I have followed the situation about the sanctions and the freezing of Afghan funds on the radio. I ask the world to help us and encourage the international community to release the money that belongs to Afghanistan so that we can have jobs and opportunities again.”

Starvation

Of course, ‘M’ and Bibi Sakina are not special. According to the UN World Food Programme over half of Afghanistan’s population are facing starvation. Nine hundred miles away, another Afghan man agonises about his future. ‘A’ is a doctor – an oncologist, with sought-after qualifications in public health and an inspirational track record in helping Afghanistan’s breast cancer victims. He speaks fluent English and has family in the UK and US. He was caught up in the violence at Kabul Airport and didn’t get out. Now in a holding camp in Abu Dhabi, he lives like a prisoner, often not leaving his small room for weeks. He has an ARAP (Afghan Relocation and Assistance Policy) case number but feels he has been forgotten.

Many of the journalists, like myself, who visited Afghanistan between 2001/21 did so to meet its women – the faceless burqa-clad icons of a society in which male dominance was almost absolute. We reported on forced marriages, ‘honour’ killings (often of rape victims), acts of self-immolation and maternal health problems on an industrial scale.

A shortage of midwives, ignorance about breast cancer and general lack of access to timely medical treatment meant that hundreds were dying needlessly. But things were changing and it soon became evident that Afghan women were neither passive nor complicit in their subjugation; they were strong, capable and desperate to effect change.

Reversal of progress

Around 46% of Afghanistan’s population is under 15 years of age which means that many Afghans were born and grew up alongside a Western military presence, with its talk of Millennium Development Goals for Women, capacity building, education and empowerment. Whatever alleged hidden agenda – oil, opium, anti-terrorist activity – underlay Western investment, a belief grew that things were possible. Women joined the ANP and ANA (Afghan National Police & Army), they flew helicopters, became journalists, midwives, governors and ministers. It wasn’t perfect, but it was progress.

Now the country is at risk of haemorrhaging talent – its female robotics, cricket and football teams have already left because they see no future for themselves there; women have been sent home from work and, if reports are to be believed, terrorised, arrested and killed for protesting.

Baroness Fiona Hodgson chairs the UK-based Afghan Women’s Support Forum, an eclectic networking group that has been uniting Afghan women (and men) for over a decade, bringing together activists, students, journalists, doctors, diplomats and various members of the Afghan diaspora:

“It’s heart-breaking to see the achievements of so many inspirational women jeopardised. Over the years I have seen them grow in strength and confidence, celebrate educational achievements and make real progress towards peace building. It is unthinkable that these gains should be lost and yet everyone feels so helpless. Until recently these brave, dynamic women had a profile and a voice; they were shaping the future of their country. Now they’re in limbo asking, ‘Who’s listening and what’s happening next?”

General Richards is unequivocal about the West’s legacy: “History says the Afghans won’t judge us kindly. There was no military requirement or popular political reason for us to withdraw. The decision was taken by President Biden; the US and UK military advised against it but European leaders must not hide behind him. They could have been more robust. But it’s not too late – if we don’t compound our errors by allowing the humanitarian disaster to continue; if we engage and persuade (the Taliban), through non-military means, to respect human rights, women’s rights, perhaps we can rebuild our stock and influence in the region.”

Originally published for the FCDO in InsideOut • Issue 61 • Spring 2022

Image © Christian Jepsen/Norwegian Refugee Council

Oxford platform for Afghan girls education advocate

Farkhunda Trust founder Rahela Sadiqi (pictured far left with Malala Yousafzai) joined a panel of speakers in Oxford on November 20th to discuss the impact of aid on development in Afghanistan – and the vital importance of education for girls.At the invitation of the Oxford International Relations Society she joined Dr Michael Ryde and journalist Bahar Joya in a discussion chaired by Professor Sue Doran. She said, “For far too long, the nature of development has been donor-driven with Afghans in the backseat.”

After the main event the audience of students and supporters at St Benet’s Hall, St Giles had an opportunity to meet Ms Sidiqi and learn more about the life changing impact of the Farkhunda Trust which was set up in memory of Farkhunda Malikzada, whose brutal murder on the streets of Kabul in 2015 shocked the world. Its mission is to provide scholarships to women from disadvantaged backgrounds to enable them to pursue higher education and, ultimately, to contribute to shaping a progressive Afghan society.

See: The Afghan Women’s Support Forum

Reflections on the nature of evil

 
 “The evil that men do lives after them the good is of interred wit their bones” –
William Shakespeare

Remembering Srebrenica, honouring the victims and survivors of the genocide.

 “My son’s name was Nermin and he was just one of over 8,000 men and boys who were massacred at Srebrenica. In the 22 years since he was murdered, all the authorities have been able to find of him are two of his bones, these bones were found in two separate mass graves, over 25 km apart.”

 A hushed audience listens to the testimony of Munira Subašić.[1] An indomitable woman driven by pain and desire for justice, she was one of several speakers marking Srebrenica Memorial Day on 11th July at London’s historic Guildhall.

Twenty-two years have passed since that shameful chapter in European history but Munira’s passion cuts through the decades like a blade. Everyone in the vast room is transported in time to the event of which Kofi Anan said, “Through error, misjudgement and an inability to recognise the scope of the evil confronting us, we failed to do our part to help save the people of Srebrenica from the Serb campaign of mass murder.”

In 1995 more than 8,000 Bosniaks – mainly Muslim men and boys – were massacred in the now infamous Balkan town. What is less well known is that as part of the same orchestrated genocide as many as 50,000 women in the region were raped or subjected to sexual violence.

As it had done after the Holocaust, the world hung its metaphorical head in shame and said ‘never again’.

Twenty years later, a mob of hate-crazed men stoned to death a 27-year-old woman in Kabul; a student with an impressive educational background in Sharia law. After refusing to purchase a taweez (a religious amulet with inscriptions from the Quran) from a male street vendor, she was accused of blasphemy. That lie provoked a storm of hatred that shocked the world. Farkhunda wasn’t just killed, she was obliterated; repeatedly stamped on, beaten, dragged through the streets and run over by a car. The clothes were torn from her body, which was hurled from a wall before being set alight. The video captured on camera phones is stomach churning.

Time, numbers and distance aside, the two events have something sinister in common. They were fuelled by such a chilling disregard for human life that descriptions of how they happened prompt disbelief.

Events in Srebrenica were being played out against the background of a conflict that featured nightly on national TV – the attack on Farkhunda Malekzada occurred in a public place and was witnessed by members of the public and police.

Reactions to this kind of violence are diverse: discomfort, shame, anger, pity – and in some cases denial. Farkhunda’s murder can perhaps be attributed to the ‘red mist’ that inspires mobs to act as a single beast, bereft of reason and intent on destruction. But the Srebrenica genocide was planned, calculated and deliberate. Both events were driven by a malevolence so strong that only annihilation would satisfy its perpetrators.

In the Middle Ages evil could be displaced. It was an entity. It had a face. Today religion, superstition and belief in the supernatural have been replaced by a conviction that we are not puppets of higher powers, but individuals with free will, in control of our own destinies.

The downside of this is that mankind then has to ‘own’ evil and take collective responsibility for its exercise. We become guilty by omission, inertia and inactivity.

Munira Subašić, President of the Mothers of Srebrenica, says: “Justice is not a privilege, it is a human right, and the 8,372 people who died at Srebrenica were human beings. Every year in July, people across the world remember them and they remember our loss, and we are truly grateful for that. But what I want to make clear is that for us, telling our stories and fighting for justice doesn’t end after July commemorations, this is the fight of our lives, and we will never stop fighting. As we women grow older, we feel the weight of responsibility on our shoulders to ensure that our stories, and the stories of our loved ones are heard and remembered, and that when we are gone, others will continue to fight for justice.”

‘Justice’ is a word used often by the rape victims of Srebrenica. “We don’t want vengeance,” they say, “we want justice.”

Some would argue that there is a fine line between the two but it’s a noble sentiment. The men who violated Bakira Hasečić and her daughter still walk freely but she meets their eyes with defiance these days. “When us survivors first started returning to Višegrad, we felt that we had to hide from these war criminals who had tried to destroy our lives, but now when I go to Višegrad, these war criminals hide from me. Now when I return to my Višegrad, I hold my head high, and I hope that one day all survivors will find their strength to do the same.”

The men who murdered and abused Farkhunda for having the temerity to express an opinion about Islam, their shared faith, melted into the crowds after their frenzied orgy of destruction. Most of those who were arrested were later released. Her family’s pain is enduring; still gripped by grief they are paralysed by fear of reprisals if they protest.

It’s hard to imagine how anything good can come of such evil deeds, but one London-based Afghan woman and her friends are ensuring that it does. Rahela Siddiqi still recalls the day she heard what had happened to Farkhunda and the physical impact it had. “I felt evil like a bang that hit me, like my body was burning!”

She and her 11-year-old daughter Rasheel Barikzai were preparing for Nowruz, the period of preparation for Afghan New Year and traditionally a time of happiness. They were stunned. “We just asked ‘Why? Why? Why?’; I felt every stone as though it were dropped on my own head and body.”

Initially paralysed with horror they vowed to turn the senseless murder of a brave young woman into something positive and, with help from like-minded supporters, set up The Farkhunda Trust for Afghan women’s education.

Rahela says, “I did it because in my heart I wanted to keep Farkhunda alive in name and aim. I thought she should be remembered by generations as symbol of bravery and a defender of women’s rights in the worst possible environment for women. I wanted the world to be aware of this horror, of the devastating actions of this mob.”

Like Munira Subašić and Bakira Hasečić, Rahela and her friends determined to use their strength as women to do two things: to ensure that a great evil was never forgotten and to make something positive came from it.

Munira Subašić speaking at a “Remembering Srebrenica” event at the Guildhall this July. 

Munira said to her captive audience at the Guildhall, “I did not come here today just to speak about what happened at Srebrenica, I came here today because I want to make a call to action. To everyone who sees our injustice and feels our pain, I hope you will join us in fighting for truth, justice and a better future.”

A ‘better future’ for an Afghan girl denied access to education is something Rahela is already delivering. The sum of £1,530 (including feed of £700) buys one year’s university education, and with education comes power.

“I felt that preventing violence against women should become our top responsibility” said Rahela. “I hoped that through our joint efforts we could make a difference; we could increase the number of brave women like Farkhunda and ensure that such evil acts would not be allowed again.”

Its seems that throughout history events occur that make us examine our collective humanity and shiver with shame at their enormity. Does evil exist? Rahela thinks so. “I think evil is everywhere where there are people of malevolent and immoral nature, harming God’s creatures and humanity in particular. Good human beings have a duty to stay their hands.”