Tales of injustice

Historically riven by religious and ethnic conflict, Afghanistan has long born the burden on its neighbours' wants. Yehia Ghanem recalls a trip to the frontline

There was once a land known as the land of Aryans. This land was coveted by the Persian monarch, who invaded some 3,000 years ago, taking along with his booty tens of thousands of Aryans.

Forced into prison camps in Persia, the thousands of captives grieved for their homeland. The captives lamentations, incomprehensible to the ear of their captors, was curious in its repeated moaning. Because they were in this constant state of mourning, the Persians dubbed the captives "Afghani," or, "the moaners." Thus Afghanistan, the land of moaners, was born.

After years in captivity, many Aryans returned to their homeland, but this period was definitive in their history. The Persian name stuck, to the extent that they themselves decided to adopt it -- and no wonder, for they haven't stopped moaning ever since. For three thousand years Afghanistan has been torn by regional, global and internal conflicts. Many commentators and historians have sought to pinpoint the root cause of a seemingly eternal conflict, but almost none point to the crucial role the country's geography has played over the years.

In Afghanistan, geography and ethnicit have conspired to forge a country that is a battleground for regional and international ambitions. Uniquely surrounded by no less than nine countries, Afghanistan has become a clearing house for each of these country's interests. Because of its position at the nexus of so many national interests, the ethnic morphology of Afghanistan is distributed over eight different races struggling for the upper hand: the Pushto majority (around 43 per cent of the population), the Tajik (11 per cent), the Uzbek (7 per cent), the Shi'ite Hazara (4 per cent), the Turkman (3.5 per cent) and a variety of other races which include Tartars, Chinese and other.

And of course, each group acts as a proxy for its native land: the Tajiks are working for Tajikistan, the Uzbek for Uzbekistan, the Turks for Turkmenistan, and the majority Pushto for Pakistan. Though each race clearly has its mother country's interests in mind, they are adamant that their only concern is Afghanistan. In the meantime, the average Afghani has little else to do than mimic his Aryan ancestors: moan.

I still remember hopping out of an old military helicopter on my way to meet with the late Tajik warlord Ahmed Shah Masood at his base in the Panshir valley. The place I saw took me back to the 19th century, but it wasn't just the stunning scenery that stands out in my mind. Coming from a Muslim background, the local dress, the language, even the simple setting was neither strange to my eyes nor harsh to my ear. It was the brutal and abject poverty -- the misery that was written on people's faces and the inhumane living conditions -- that was so painful to encounter. The whole country is a by- product of a never-ending war.

Approaching that simple looking Afghan man, I would have never pegged him for a commander. When I asked him his name, the answer told me everything: Mohamed Khakshar. For non-Muslims, it is just a meaningless name, but for those who understand it's meaning, it is telling of the Afghan character. "Khakshar" in the Dari language (spoken by the majority of Afghans) refers to a wise man carrying dust in his hands -- in other words, noble, yet humble.

The way Khakshar acted did not depart from his name. Sitting there on the ground, he spoke simply, but with clarity, of the upcoming showdown with the Taliban. After explaining the military situation on the ground, the Uzbek commander gave me the privilege -- not granted to many journalists -- to tour the front line. There, all the signs indicated that this part of the frontline was active. Rocket launchers pounded the Taliban positions on the other side of the hill, an old, immobile Russian-made tank was being used as artillery, along with other medium and light arms. The picture was that of a war in the most conventional sense.

But the tremendous imbalance between the firepower on both sides was disturbingly evident. "We are short on fire power, namely heavy artillery -- that's where the Taliban have the edge," Commander Ahmadi, an Afghani Tajik who was directing the military operations in region, told me. Though he admitted that they were no match for the Taliban in terms of firepower, Ahmadi expressed optimism about the outcome of the war. His optimism was not enough, however. Talokan fell to the Taliban less than 48 hours after I interviewed him.

Foreigners are mesmerised by the mystical quality of Afghanistan and its people -- the many faces that the culture seems to harbour. All signs may indicate a rough, rigid and even-war loving people, but that's only what you can gather from first impressions. The truth, in many cases, is the opposite. In my talks with Commander Ahmadi, a picture of a thoughtful and impassioned leader emerged. A graduate from the University of Cambridge, Ahmadi told me how he missed his family, whom he hadn't seen in over five months. "We are educated and we want to rebuild our country. We will not allow barbarians to rule Afghanistan," he told me.

Walking past the squatters quarters in Mazar Sharif -- the capitol city of the northern alliance -- one can find children smiling, challenging an unknown future with unvanquished hope. The tragic situation brought to my mind the statements made by Taliban officials I had just interviewed beforehand, which echoed the sentiments of the opposition commanders.

Afghanistan is a country of contradictions: a place where ignorance and backwardness is at odds with ideology and the encroachment of modernity. One may find a state-of-the-art satellite phone, tucked away in a primatively built house owned by an ordinary Afghan. A run- down little shop may turn out to be something different altogether: bushels of currency lining the floor might reveal that the place is actually an exchange office. In a country turned inside out by the conflicts of its regional neighbours and international powers, it is amazing to find these countries and their symbols emblazoned on T-shirts sold on the marketplace.

Into all this marches the US. The immediate question is whether the target is only Afghanistan. What of the tremendous oil and gas resources of neighbouring Turkmenistan? Can the US succeed in such military adventure? Finally, is it right to come down on a whole nation in search of one suspect? Can a foreign power with so little understanding of this nation's strengths and its woes really rout out terrorism by striking at the land of the Aryans -- the land of moaners?