The place where disputes are settled and decisions made.
Afghanistan
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Timeline
1973: A
military coup abolishes the monarchy and ushers in a republic presided by Mohammed
Daoud, a cousin of the king.
1979: Following a Communist coup in 1978, the Soviet Union invades Afghanistan
in December. Babrak Karmal becomes head of state. Resistence mounts from Muslim rebels
with whom troops wage a protracted guerrilla war.
1986: Sayid Mohammed Najibullah becomes president amid continuing civil war against
rebel Muslim forces.
1988: Following a UN-mediated agreement, Soviet troops begin their withdrawal,
which is completed in 1989. Fighting between various rebel factions and government
forces ensues.
1992: President Najibullah steps down on April 16 as mujahideen insurgents close
in on Kabul. An interim council takes over. Factional fighting between troops of
the Minister of Defence Ahmed Shah Massoud and the Hezb-I-Islami, led by Gulbuddin
Hekmatyar, continues until the signing of a peace agreement.
1994-1996: A newly formed militant Islamic movement, the Taliban (i.e. : “students
of religion”) gains ground with Pakistani support.
1996: Taliban forces capture Kabul. Former President Najibullah is hanged, and
Afghanistan declareds an Islamic state under Sharia law. By the end of 1996,
the Taliban control 90% of the country.
1999: Following the collapse of peace talks between the Taliban and the opposition
Northern Alliance, the U.S. imposes financial and economic sanctions on the Taliban
regime.
2000: New UN sanctions intended to press the Taliban to surrender Osama bin Laden,
the Saudi-born suspected terrorist. UN aid workers say displaced Afghans now make
up the world's largest body of refugees.
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Government
must be born from country.
José
Martí, Cuban patriot and writer (1853-1895)
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Key
figures
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Population:
25.9 million (1999)
GNP per capita:
n.a. (1999)
GNP per capita
annual growth rate:
n.a. (1990-98)
Life expectancy
at birth:
46 years (1998)
Adult illiteracy rate:
65% (1998)
Sources: World Bank, UNDP. |
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Throughout
this nation shattered by years of war, traditional village assemblies have continued
to gather, proving their deep commitment to bettering everyday life
It’s five in the morning.
The day dawns in the Jalrez Valley. Along the base of rocky mountains topped by snow-capped
peaks, a band of vegetation stretches for 50 kilometres. We pass groups of women
in brightly-coloured clothing and children herding sheep. Bomb craters still scar
the ground while flags flutter in the wind, commemorating the shahids–the martyrs
of the war against the Soviet Union. Soon we come to the village of Doabi, with its
560 inhabitants and 80 families.
“Asalam-aleikum!” Hadji Amin, the khan–the equivalent of mayor–gives us the traditionally
warm Afghan reception. We talk about the major problem of the moment, the drought.
More than a score of the valley’s 180 villages have been badly hit and 10,000 people
out of the local population of 50,000 may be forced to leave the area. After 20 years
of war, there remains no government institution able to mount any relief operation.That
now depends entirely on the villages themselves and on the links they have forged
with humanitarian organizations such as Solidarités and agronomists working
in the region.
The drought has affected non-irrigated crops across the whole country. Amin has heard
that more and more people are fleeing abroad, and that hundreds of families are arriving
each day in the refugee camps on the border with Pakistan or in the western town
of Herat. Some of them have been through this grim experience before. At the height
of the war, as many as six million people are thought to have fled the country. Today,
2.6 million are still refugees in Pakistan and Iran.
Despite the gravity of this new crisis, people are forging a response. This is probably
the only constant in the country’s recent history. The war took the lives of a million
Afghans. Today, ten million mines are still strewn throughout the land and tremendous
hardship endures, but the villages are mitigating some of the damage through their
solid traditional structures.
In Doabi, daily life is based on almost total self-sufficiency. Wheat, potatoes and
fruit are grown, while chickens, sheep and goats are raised along with a few cows
and beehives. In this broad-based rural economy, people trade with each other, put
together community work teams and help families in need.
Sipping
tea until consensus is reached
At
the end of the summer, in the yards where the grain is threshed, everyone hands over
a share of his harvest to the mullah, another to the mirab–the “water overlord” who
looks after the irrigation canals–and one to the shepherd. The rest is then divided
up. The farmers are proud that Pakistani merchants come all the way here to buy apples,
production of which has been expanded in recent years.
Whenever a dispute surfaces in the village or with a neighbouring one, or when some
kind of wider threat arises, such as drought, the village assembly meets. This is
the djirga (in the Pashtu language, or shura in Dari), which gathers together the
elders, the qazi (religious judge), the mullah, the teacher, a few farmers–some of
them former resistance chiefs–and of course the khan. All the men wear a turban,
shirt, baggy trousers and a patu, a thin wool shawl. Over tea, everyone listens and
has their say. Decisions arise once consensus is reached.
It would be wrong to see the djirga as a simple stopgap making up for the lack of
other systems of administration. By tradition, explains Amin, similar village assemblies
have often been summoned at the regional and even national level. By keeping up the
local djirgas, the traditional system which has helped to define the common good
for the whole country is being maintained. Even if this seems a pipe-dream today,
Amin adds that everyone is convinced it is the best way forward.
Afghanistan is a patchwork of ethnic groups and the Jalrez Valley hosts a rare combination.
Its people are mainly Pashtuns, but there are also Tajiks and Hazaras–reputedly descendants
of Genghis Khan’s soldier-workers–who make up the Shiite minority in a country that
is 85 percent Sunni Muslim. Other ethnic groups in the valley include Turkmens, Uzbeks
and Nuristanis.
We stop in front of the mosque in Qala Ali, a village high in the mountains hard
hit by the drought, where about 40 Hazara families live. Aside from hosting the shura,
the mosque also welcomes travellers and serves as a school, where the mullah teaches
the Koran, writing and basic arithmetic to the village children.
Mullah Ahmad, who is clearly in charge, speaks for the village, which has managed
to retain its quasi-autonomy despite the wars. Traditionally, some of the menfolk
go off to Kabul or Iran to earn more money for their families; this year the exodus
is larger than normal.
There has been no rain for two years. The wheat harvest has shrunk by 80 percent
and the potatoes are not growing any more. The villagers have sold a few of their
animals and everyone has gone into debt while awaiting better days. Education is
Ahmad’s other big concern. For several years the village assembly has wanted to hire
a moalem (teacher), but money is shorter than ever.
In 1974, Afghanistan, one of the world’s 10 poorest countries, had 500,000 school
pupils, 15,000 teachers (2,000 of them women), 350 schools for girls and 2,500 for
boys. The national system was certainly patchy, but it provided education up to university
level. Today, education depends entirely on the meagre resources of the villages
and teacher-training has vanished.
The
new masters of Kabul
On
the drive back to Kabul, we pass men on horses and large trucks brightly painted
with lions and flowers going up to the pass. Over the past few years, this route
has changed. There is more traffic now, you do not see any armed men and the checkpoints
manned by this or that faction at almost every kilometre have gone.
Our driver explains how the Taliban took control of the valley soon after they entered
Kabul in September 1996. First they sent several men to call for a ceasefire, threatened
those who resisted with dire punishment and bought off any hesitant factions. Only
after that did they install their military and civilian governors.
Public services are non-existent. But thanks to a balance of power very much in their
favour, the Taliban have ended the interminable faction wars. The country still has
no legitimate government, fighting continues in the northeast, stronghold of General
Ahmed Shah Massoud, and violence occasionally flares up elsewhere. The new masters
of Kabul have nevertheless managed to obtain a monopoly of force, one of the state’s
primordial roles.
One day, perhaps, a great national djirga will define the common good and the duties
of a new national state. Meanwhile, the inhabitants of the valley, exhausted by 20
years of fighting, have decided to lay down their arms for peace and security, two
things they lost sight of long ago.
To know more
www.solidarites.org |
