[Texgreen] The vultures are circling in Afghanistan
Roger Baker
rcbaker@eden.infohwy.com
Sun, 17 Dec 2006 01:56:41 -0600
<http://www.atimes.com/atimes/South_Asia/HL13Df03.html>
The vultures are circling
By Syed Saleem Shahzad
KARACHI - In the plains of southwestern Afghanistan, confident
Taliban move around openly with their weaponry, to the frustration of
North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) and Afghan National Army
(ANA) troops who can see them, but seem helpless in containing them.
Indeed, foreign troops are mostly held hostage in their bases, and
their alternatives are stark: conduct aerial bombings in which
civilians would surely be heavy casualties, or pull out.
The mood on the ground in Afghanistan is that the latter option will
prevail.
"It was really fun to fight with the Soviets [in the 1980s], but not
so with the Americans. I remember once, three Soviet soldiers were
besieged by mujahideen. They were injured and they had the chance to
retreat and be airlifted. But they refused and fought till their
last. They had a certain level of conviction. The Americans do not
have this," Khuda-i-Rahim told Asia Times Online.
Khuda-i-Rahim is a veteran commander. He lost a leg, both arms and
some sight in a bomb explosion in Kandahar while fighting against
Russian troops. He spent some time in the US in the 1980s and now
lives in Baghran in the northernmost district of Helmand province.
"They [Americans] hear the sound of a single bullet fired in the air
and they do not dare to go to the place where the bullet was fired.
The Russians stayed in Afghanistan for 11 years because of their
conviction, but against the determination of the Afghan resistance
they finally withdrew. I don't see a chance that once there is a
national uprising like the one against the Russians, the Americans
will stay for a few months," said Khuda-i-Rahim.
The current Afghan insurgency is widely viewed as a highly
ideologically motivated movement along the lines of al-Qaeda and
similar to the Taliban uprising of the mid-1990s in which fanatical
madrassa-educated youths seized power.
Certainly, the present Afghan resistance against foreign troops and
the administration of President Hamid Karzai is undoubtedly led by
Taliban leader Mullah Omar and Islam is unquestionably the binding
force. Nevertheless, at ground level the field command is in the
hands of seasoned commanders who fought against the Soviets and who
are driven more by Afghan traditions than by ideology.
The Afghan battle strategy has always been based on preserving
strength by appearing to give way to the enemy by letting them parade
through the country in search operations that only upset the population.
For the invaders, this is exhausting and brings small results. The
resistance, meanwhile, is everywhere, watching and waiting like
vultures, ready to swoop. Such is the situation in the Sangin
district of Helmand province, just 2.5 kilometers from Kandahar city.
A long and rough road
We were due to travel from Musa Qala to Sangin to meet Qari Hazrat,
the younger brother of slain veteran Afghan commander Abdul Khaliq.
Qari Hazrat is the commander of the Gerishk district and a part of
the Taliban movement. Parts of Sangin also fall under his
jurisdiction. We were to meet him here, just a few kilometers from a
NATO base.
After a long and rough ride we came to the village where we were to
meet Qari Hazrat. It was virtually deserted and we didn't have a clue
as to how to get to the meeting place among the maze of narrow streets.
I finally spotted a youngster, and asked, "Do you know where Qari
Hazrat lives?" It seemed foolish to be asking this kid for the
whereabouts of one of the most wanted Taliban figures in southwestern
Afghanistan, but to my surprise the boy thought for a moment and
asked, "Taliban?" He pondered some more and gave us directions to a
place where he said we should ask about the Taliban. "They live
there," said the boy, speaking quickly.
I thanked him, thinking how strange it was that a youngster should
have such information.
Eventually we arrived at Qari Hazrat's residence, where we were
greeted by his brother. In the meantime, the villagers, as happens
when any strangers arrive, gathered in the courtyard to gape at us
sitting on mats on the floor. The compound's grass was burned, as if
it had been bombed. After a few cups of plain black tea, several
young men took us to a nearby field from where we could see the NATO
base.
"This is the area where US Special Forces conducted their first
ground operations in Helmand province after the fall of the Taliban
[in 2001] and arrested about 300 Taliban," said Abdul Rauf, one of
the lads.
"Until last year, foreigners came to the area every now and then and
conducted house-to-house searches. They used to enter any house of
their choice at any time, whether day or night. Now the Taliban have
come to the area and whenever they [NATO] try to do any patrolling or
search operations, they come under heavy attack.
"For three months now, there has hardly been any effort on the part
of NATO forces to come out from their base. They are sitting in their
base and the Taliban are sitting in the village. The Taliban don't
attack their base, nor do they attack us," said Abdul Rauf.
The area has suffered aerial bombardment in the past, and the remains
of mud houses are visible all over the village. We reached a
watercourse used to irrigate poppy fields, and stopped to take
pictures of the NATO base. Suddenly, we saw helicopters - one Apache
and one ordinary one - taking off from the NATO base and heading
toward us.
"Until last year they used to land in these fields and drop men for
ground operations, but now they remain in the air and do not drop
bombs. Now they just fly around, and presumably take supplies to
their troops in the base. They are no longer able to use trucks and
vehicles for supplies," Abdul Rauf explained.
"Why don't you shoot down these helicopters?" I asked.
"We did shoot down one helicopter, but then they bombed the villages.
So we avoid doing that," said Abdul Rauf.
Shortly before dusk, Qari Hazrat finally arrived, along with a band
of men equipped with rocket-propelled grenades, AK-47s, mortars
and machine-guns. He quickly kissed and hugged his guests and then
went to do his ablutions before evening prayers (saltul magrib).
After prayers, we gathered in a room heated by a wood fire and a meal
was served. "Do you have any ceasefire agreement with NATO forces or
with the Afghan administration in this area?" I asked.
"No. Not at all," said Qari, a light-skinned man in his late 20s,
speaking very softly.
"There is hardly any fighting. NATO forces and the Taliban visibly co-
exist side by side, so in fact, what else would you call this
situation but a ceasefire agreement?" I asked.
This brought a smile to Qari's face. "There is a ceasefire in Sangin
district between the Taliban and the Afghan administration, but the
area in which you are now sitting is Kila-i-Gaz, and according to the
Taliban's administrative divisions it is part of Gerishk district.
And here we do not have any ceasefire," said Qari.
"But you do not attack them and they do not attack you, or conduct
air strikes on your bases," I persisted.
"They used to carry out air strikes. Now this has come to an end.
They did have an effective network of informers, but we have
successfully eliminated it and therefore they do not have any
knowledge of our bases, so the air strikes stopped. They have
conducted limited ground operations, but they came under attack. So
they stopped. We do not attack their base because they would
retaliate with air strikes," said Qari.
"So what are you doing here, just having your meals, drinking tea and
roaming all around with your weapons?" My question elicited a burst
of laughter in the room.
"Yes, and they are bored in their bases with no chance to do any
activities," Qari said, smiling. "We are not in any haste. Since the
masses invited the Taliban to come down [from the mountains] to their
areas, our strength is increasing with every passing day. Six months
ago, groups of Taliban were operating with about 10 people. Now they
have 50 members and growing. So we have enough time till next spring,
and they [NATO] know what will happen until next year," Qari said.
"What will happen and what do they know?" I asked.
"They know that we will mobilize our strength and occupy the Herat-
Kandahar highway and establish our pockets all over," said Qari.
"So that way you will isolate the Sangin district and the district of
Gerishk - cut them off from the rest of the country?" I asked.
"Yes. And then we will not give them a chance to even find an escape
route in their helicopters. We will hold parts of the Kandahar-Herat
highway and our friends will hold other points. So Kandahar and other
places will automatically come under siege and there will be little
chance of reinforcements," Qari said, eating his final piece of bread.
"Until then they are sitting here, we are sitting here, face to face
and all around them."
After a final round of tea, Qari sent us to a separate place to
sleep. "We are around-the-clock targets, so you will be better off
staying away from us, and in the morning I will arrange for a cab to
take you to your next destination," said Qari.
We had a farewell hug and went to another building surrounded by a
farm. Within an hour we heard sporadic firing, which steadily became
stronger, interspersed with small explosions and flashes of light
that reflected in the room.
"Was there a battle last night?" I asked the lad sent by Qari the
next morning to arrange a cab for us.
"No," he laughed. "They [NATO] do it every night. They fire bullets
into the air to tell us that they are awake and that we dare not
attack them. They throw flashes into the fields to check for any
danger lurking around their base. For the past few weeks they have
been inside the base all the time, and they must have the constant
feeling that they are on the edge of a precipice," the lad explained.
"And what do you do?"
"What can we do? We just sleep in our rooms, and when the sounds of
firing bother us, we come out into the open to watch the light from
their [tracer] bullets and the flashes in the dark of the night,"
said the lad.
The strange events of the night set me thinking of all those troops,
mostly British, holed up in their base. It brought to mind Broken
Wings by Kahlil Gibran, in which a boy feels much but knows so little.
The sensitive boy is the most unfortunate creature under the sun
because he is torn by two forces. The first force elevates him and
shows him the beauty of existence through a cloud of dreams; the
second ties him down to the earth and fills his eyes with dust and
overpowers him with fears and darkness.
And all the time the vultures are circling.
Syed Saleem Shahzad is Asia Times Online's Pakistan Bureau Chief. He
can be reached at saleem_shahzad2002@yahoo.com.
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