The Afghanistan Analysts Network (AAN)

Despite some recent gains, the Taleban have struggled to establish a stronger foothold in the north-eastern province of Takhar. One of the reasons the movement they failed to do so have been growing tensions and power struggles among its Uzbek and Pashtun Taleban cadres. Strategically, this has left a geographical gap, preventing them from connecting their fronts in Kunduz and Baghlan to the west and southwest on the one hand, and Badakhshan in the east on the other. AAN’s Obaid Ali examines the challenges facing the Taleban’s non-Pashtun recruitment policy, which have had a significant impact on the local battleground (with input from Thomas Ruttig).

This dispatch is part of a series on the insurgency, and particularly on the non-Pashtun Taleban in northern Afghanistan. For more on the Uzbek Taleban in the north-west and the Tajik Taleban in the north-east, read our previous analyses here and here.

In the first half of 2017, the Taleban carried out another series of attacks on district centres and strategic areas in the north-eastern province of Takhar. In March, they unsuccessfully struck at Khwaja Bahauddin’s district centre. This was followed in April by an attack on the district centre of Darqad in the far north of the province. Also in this case, the insurgents failed to capture it, but they laid a siege that was only partially lifted by Afghan government forces in June (see media reports here and here). In mid-June 2017, Taleban militants overran a number of villages and government forces checkposts in Khwaja Bahauddin once again as well as further south, in the district of Khwaja Ghar. In the latter case, local security officials reported that the attackers had crossed over the provincial border from Kunduz. The Taleban also tried to threaten government forces elsewhere in the Mawara-ye Kokcha area but were largely kept at bay by the continuing airstrikes and targeted killings of prominent insurgent commanders by US forces.

An Afghan newspaper, Kabul-based Weesa, reported in May 2017 (1) that the local government in Takhar had decided to move both Darqad and Yangi Qala’s district offices to the provincial centre due to prevailing insecurity in those areas. Speaking to AAN, however, provincial police spokesman Khalil Asir said in July that although serious clashes with militants were ongoing in both districts as well as in Khwaja Bahauddin, their administrative offices were still up and running there.

The reports show that the attacks have largely been concentrated in districts north of the Kokcha river, an area called Mawara-ye Kokcha (which includes Khwaja Bahauddin, Dasht-e Qala, Darqad, Yangi Qala, Chahab and Rustaq), and particularly the western half of this region. This area is close to Kunduz province, which has a long-established, strong Taleban presence. All of these districts, apart from Rustaq, share a border with Tajikistan, leading to concerns in Central Asia and Russia of a potential spill-over of insurgent activity. When speaking to AAN, Khwaja Ghar’s district governor Muhammad Omar complained about the low number of security forces and lack of morale among the Afghan Local Police (ALP) in Mawara-ye Kokcha.

The development of the militancy in Takhar

Even though the Taleban have made some gains in Takhar, particularly from late 2014 onwards, they have not been able to secure as strong a foothold here as they have in other provinces in the region, such as Kunduz or Baghlan and, in parts, Badakhshan. Strategically, this has left a geographical gap, preventing them from connecting their fronts in Kunduz and Baghlan to the east and south on the one hand, and Badakhshan in the west.

There are two main reasons for this. Firstly, the majority of the two largest ethnic groups among the population (official figures are 44 per cent Uzbek and 42 per cent Tajik) are affiliated with the traditional parties of Jombesh and Jamiat-e Islami, with some Hezb-e Islami enclaves, mainly among Uzbeks and the Pashtun minority (which is around ten per cent). These parties are represented by local strongmen who have strong links to political leaders in Kabul; they can also mobilise groups of armed men or control existing militias. They have carved out areas of influence covering one or sometimes several districts each, through some of which important drug smuggling routes lead into Central Asia. This constitutes a complicated local network of feuds and alliances (see earlier AAN reporting here).

The second reason is the fragmentation of the insurgents’ networks. Non-Pashtun insurgents, mainly Jundullah-affiliated Uzbeks (2), refuse to fight under Pashtun commanders.

The first Taleban recruitment networks were reported to be operating in Namak Ab, Kalafgan and in the provincial capital of Taloqan by 2007, although in limited numbers. They were reportedly run from abroad by Mawlawi Zia-ur-Rahman Madani, a Tajik originally from Namak Ab district in Takhar who served as provincial governor for Logar province and was later appointed as the military coordinator for the north-eastern region during the Taleban’s Islamic Emirate. Now he serves as a member of the Taleban’s political office in Qatar.

The first small groups of fighters appeared in 2010. One group arrived from Pakistan and settled around Yangi Qala, Khwaja Bahahuddin and Darqad districts. Their location in the very north of the province indicated that the Taleban had successfully recruited fighters in the Pashtun-dominated district of Darqad. From there, activity spread to neighbouring districts. Other groups emerged further south, in Dasht-e Qala, Khwaja Ghar and Bangi, along the provincial borders with Kunduz and Baghlan, indicating a spread from there. Until 2014, however, the Taleban insurgency in the province had been limited to occasional guerrilla-style attacks against security forces (for more background read AAN’s report here, pp 45-9). The presence of international forces in Takhar conducting night raids and search operations, including kill and capture operations (read media reports here and here) helped ensure that the Taleban’s presence remained limited until the end of 2014.

From then onwards, insurgent activity increased in the west and north of the province as well as in Farkhar district in the east. In the second half of 2015, the Taleban sought to expand their territorial control in Takhar, targeting district centres and challenging district security forces.

In October 2015, the Taleban stormed Darqad district centre after a few hours of resistance and held it for two months, before government forces were able to repel them again (read short report here and here). The fall of the Pashtun-dominated district was a cause for serious concern, spreading fear that the militants would establish a foothold in the district and expand their influence throughout the surrounding districts. After an earlier, failed attempt in 2015, the insurgents overran the district centre of Khwaja Ghar in August 2016, although only for a couple of hours (see here and here). (3) By the end of the same year, the Taleban had established a strong foothold in the district. At present, only the district centre is in government hands.

The Taleban have failed, however, to take more than very cursory control over district centres in the Uzbek-dominated districts of Mawara-ye Kokcha, although there is some Taleban presence in the countryside. In their latest assessment carried out in March 2017, (4) they claim to control over 40 per cent of Khwaja Bahauddin as well as areas in Khwaja Ghar, Yangi Qala and Dasht-e Qala. The assessment further suggests control of over 20 per cent of Eshkamesh and 15 per cent of Bangi in the south-west. These districts are also labelled as contested in western security assessments, which indicate they have a strong foothold in south-west Eshkamesh.

The remaining areas of the province, including the provincial capital and the districts of Baharak, Chah Ab, Dasht-e Qala, Rustaq, Farkhar, Kalafgan, Namak Ab, Warsaj and Hazar Sumoch, are considered to be largely under government control, even in the Taleban’s own assessment.

Afghan security forces have conducted several offensives against the Taleban in vulnerable districts. These military operations, however, have only produced limited results. Najibullah Haqyar, a civil society activist, accused the local government of unwillingness to eliminate the militants from Takhar. He told AAN that “local officials visit the vulnerable districts, taking photos to circulate on social media.” Insecurity in Mawara-ye Kokcha has had a negative affect on people’s lives. In May 2017, for instance, over a hundred families fled from Khwaja Bahauddin and Darqad to safer areas within the province (read a media report here).

The Taleban-IMU fragmentation

Until 2014, the different insurgency networks – the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan (IMU), the Jundullah and also the emerging Taleban presence – largely fought alongside each other against the Afghan National Security Forces (ANSF). This unity, however, did not last. In December 2014, the IMU sought to separate its fighters from the Taleban. This followed rumours about the disappearance of the movement’s late leader, Mullah Muhammad Omar, to whom they had pledged allegiance. After the Taleban had to publicly admit his demise in August 2015, the IMU shifted its allegiance to Daesh, the so-called Islamic State. This deepened rifts between the Taleban and the IMU, ending up in clashes between them in southern parts of the country. In particular, the Taleban’s assault against the IMU in Zabul province in 2015 (for more details read this AAN report) had negative repercussions on the insurgents’ northern networks, resulting in serious tensions between the Pashtun and non-Pashtun insurgents in Takhar. It also had negative affects on their military operations there. The Pashtun Taleban in Darqad, for example, refuse to fight under an Uzbek as provincial leader.

The insurgency in Takhar was largely shaped and influenced by Mullah Abdul Salam Baryal, the late shadow governor for neighbouring Kunduz (killed in February 2017) and the most prominent Pashtun Taleban commander in the north-east (read more background on Mullah Salam here). He played an important role in the appointment of local Taleban officials in Baghlan, Kunduz and Takhar provinces, and was able to do so mainly because of his loyalty to the Taleban’s overall military leader Mullah Akhtar Muhammad Mansur, who officially became Taleban leader in mid-2015 only to be killed one year later. He implemented the Taleban’s overall policy of appointing more local Uzbek and Tajik commanders to key positions.

In the case of Takhar, Qari Aminullah Tayeb, an Uzbek from the province, was appointed to serve as shadow governor in early 2015 (for more background on Takhar’s shadow governor, read our previous analysis here). After the IMU switched its allegiance to Daesh in 2015, the Pashtun Taleban disarmed a number of Uzbek Jundullah fighters, including prominent field commanders; they even issued orders to kill or capture them, fearing that they might follow the IMU’s path, switch their allegiance to IS and facilitate the group’s presence in the province. Qari Tayeb criticised these orders (for more details read this AAN report).

According to sources close to the Taleban, Mullah Salam Baryal, then-shadow governor for Kunduz and head of the military commission for the northern zone, received intelligence that Qari Tayeb intended to mobilise more Uzbek fighters and to establish an independent front, ignoring the Taleban’s Pashtun command. He decided to replace Qari Tayeb and ordered to disarm him, fearing he might switch sides and become a thorn in the Taleban’s side. Mullah Salam introduced Mawlawi Rahmatullah (alias Muhammad), his close aide and a Pashtun from Nahr-ye Sufi village of Chahrdara district in Kunduz to succeed Qari Tayeb. (5) The replacement of an Uzbek by a Pashtun exacerbated existing tensions between the Uzbek and Pashtun Taleban. It also negatively affected the Taleban’s non-Pashtun recruitment policy in Takhar. As a result, Taleban provincial posts in the last few months have seen a very quick turnover. This environment of mistrust among the militant groups has prevented the insurgents from gaining further territory.

These tensions, according to locals, continued into early 2017 when a joint delegation of pro-Taleban religious scholars and local commanders from Takhar and Kunduz was tasked with solving the issue. They gave the position to another Uzbek, Mawlawi Nurullah, from Baharak district in Takhar. He had been part of the Taleban movement for a long time, serving as a mid-level commander in Takhar during the Taleban regime in the 1990s. His appointment was a tactical move to keep the allegiance of the Uzbeks as well as to prevent the appointment of someone affiliated with, or close to, the local Uzbek groups IMU and Jundullah.

Even after his replacement, Mawlawi Rahmatullah temporarily remained in Takhar to monitor the Uzbek fighters’ activities in Takhar. After the killing of Mullah Salam in Kunduz by a US airstrike in February 2017 (read media report here), however, Mawlawi Rahmatullah returned there, where he is apparently now serving as the acting shadow governor (read this AAN report). The appointment of a new Uzbek shadow governor in Takhar has, for the time being, stemmed the tensions between the Uzbeks and the Pashtuns. It has not, however, managed to ensure Jundullah and the IMU-affiliated cadres’ loyalty to the Taleban movement. Prominent figures of the IMU and Jundullah continue to run autonomous front.

Conclusion

The Taleban movement in Takhar, as in other northern provinces, has sought to appoint non-Pashtuns to serve as local officials. This was initially to broaden their base in a province that is largely non-Pashtun (much more than in Kunduz, for example); however, following the rift in 2015 with the IMU, it has also been to prevent it from becoming a local Daesh base. But this tactic has not been as successful as in other places, largely due to the more radical Uzbeks’ long-term affiliation with and sympathies for the IMU as well as for the Jundullah jihadi networks. Both networks consist of non-Pashtuns who fought alongside the Pashtun Taleban against the government but later (in the case of IMU) changed their allegiance or (as in the case of Jundullah) became unreliable in the eyes of the Taleban for their strong ethnic leanings (read our previous analysis on this here). It has been a challenge for the Pashtun Taleban to bring the non-Taleban militant groups (IMU and Jundullah) under their banner. When they managed to, temporarily, both groups continued to run autonomous fronts and kept separate command structures. They are also ideologically different from the Taleban. Although both, like the Pashtun Taleban, follow the Hanafi school of Sunni Islam, both – in contrast to the Taleban – largely ignore local culture. (6) Nevertheless, there are strong sympathies among Takhari Uzbek fighters for the IMU because of strong feelings of shared linguistic and ethnic backgrounds.

The reappointment of an Uzbek to lead the Taleban insurgency in Takhar has not produced effective results for them on the battleground, neither has it convinced Jundullah or IMU cadres to return to fight under the Taleban’s banner. This appears to be due to the lack of a strong Taleban leadership at the provincial level (particularly after the killing of Mullah Salam in Kunduz), as well as to the environment of mutual mistrust among the formerly allied militant groups. The Taleban’s strategy to recruit non-Pashtuns as local officials remains a challenge in the province.

(1) Not online. Source: AAN press monitoring.

(2) Jundullah is an indigenous, non-Pashtun armed group in north-eastern Afghanistan made up of radical Uzbeks and Tajiks, with some Arabs and Aimaq. It was initially formed by commanders, who, in 2009, had split from the IMU. Until 2015 Jundullah fought alongside the Taleban against the Afghan government in several districts in the north-east but kept independent fronts with command structures separate from those of the Taleban in the north-east.

The IMU itself began as a militant group trying to overthrow the Islam Karimov government in Uzbekistan; it then played a role in the Tajik civil war in the 1990s, before retreating to Afghanistan in the 1990s, where it pledged allegiance to and became an ally of the Taleban regime (1996-2001). It followed the defeated Taleban into exile in Pakistan and established a new base in Waziristan in 2001. (For previous AAN reporting on the presence of the IMU in the Afghan north, see this paper)

(3) They claimed the same for Yangi Qala and Eshkashem in late September 2015.

(4) The Taleban have started to issue their own reports – and maps – showing areas they claim to control, entitled “Areas under Taleban Control.” (read their latest assessment here).

(5) Muhammad and Mullah Salam were arrested in Pakistan in February 2012 and detained for over two years. Both were released after a delegation from the Afghan High Peace Council urged Pakistan to free captured Taleban from its prisons. Muhammad also served as shadow provincial governor in Baghlan.

(6) In contrast to the Taleban, IMU and Jundullah ignore, for example, elements of local culture such as local elders’ mediation in conflicts and the consultation of tribal elders on important issues. Both groups only accept the views of religious scholars in solving disputes.

Over the past two years, the National Unity Government (NUG) has been challenged by internal power struggles, protest movements and now an ‘opposition’ coalition made up of influential officials from within. It is the first time, however, that leaders of three mainstream political parties from three major ethnic groups have joined forces – at least under the NUG. The challenge posed by the coalition has now taken a more dramatic turn following the news that Vice-President Abdul Rashid Dostum was denied entry at Mazar-e Sharif airport on 17 July 2017 while attempting to return to the country. AAN’s Ali Yawar Adili and Thomas Ruttig look at the coalition members’ backgrounds, their demands and the consequences of this emerging protest from within the government as the country faces another wave of intensive fighting.

Leaders of three major political parties – Jamiat-e Islami Afghanistan, Jombesh-e Melli Islami and Hezb-e Wahdat-e Mardom-e Afghanistan – announced their decision to form a new coalition on 30 June 2017 called the “Etelaf baray Nejat-e Afghanistan (Coalition for the Salvation of Afghanistan).” The leaders of the coalition said that its aim was to “prevent the collapse of the system, avoid political chaos and restore national trust” among the political classes inside and outside the government. It is not clear, however, whether this coalition includes party leaders or how much support, in particular Jamiat, has from other party heavyweights or from its grassroots members (more about this in the text).

Three major themes emerge in the statements of the senior members of the coalition as well as in their agreements: criticism of the centralisation of power by the president’s circle; accusations of the government’s involvement in some of the high profile attacks, which they felt were targeted; and the general deterioration of security in the north. The latter is, sometimes explicitly, blamed on leading Pashtun politicians close to the president in what the coalition deems to be an attempt to destabilise the northern leaders’ local power bases.

In a declaration published on social media (see here, here, here and here (1), the coalition has demanded that Dostum’s vice-presidential authorities, which have never officially been taken from him, be restored. Earlier, Dostum’s Jombesh party held protests in a number of provinces, including in Balkh and Jawzjan, calling for the restoration of his authority, emphasising that his position was their ‘red line’ and that any disrespect to him would be regarded as disrespect to many millions of Uzbek and other Turkic speaking groups. Furthermore, the coalition has also called for the full implementation of the political agreement of the NUG, as one of its priorities. (2)

The formation of the Coalition for the Salvation of Afghanistan by the leaders of the three parties is the result of a culmination of complaints and accusations that Jamiat leaders and the first vice president have been levelling against the president and his entourage for some time. On 5 June 2017 for instance, two days after Jamiat leaders survived triple bomb blasts during a funeral for Salem Ezadyar (who was killed during the 2 June protests), Salahuddin Rabbani, foreign minister and acting head of Jamiat, appeared in a press conference and called for the “[r]emoval of the national security adviser [Hanif Atmar] and other heads of security institutions,” implying they had had a hand in the attacks. (3) This was echoed on 25 June 2017 by Balkh Governor Atta Muhammad Nur, another Jamiat leader, who called for “reforms at the top of the military and security agencies” in his Eid-ul Fitr prayer speech last month, with a threat to “resort to the strongest and most dangerous civil moves.” (4) Similarly, in October 2016, Vice-President General Abdul Rashid Dostum, after his convoy came under attack while he was leading a clearance operation against the Taleban in the north, accused the national security advisor and NDS chief Massum Stanakzai of plotting against him and wanting him killed. He also lashed out at the president for favouring Pashtuns in appointments, particularly from his home province, saying, “For the president, whoever speaks Pashto is a good person, but if they speak Pashto and are from Logar, it is even better.” (5)

The coalition members have, however, emphasised that they “do not want to dismantle the government.” This was stated by Mohaqeq, the leader of Wahdat-e Mardom, in response to certain MPs’ call for coalition members to resign from the government; he argued that would be impossible as the coalition represented “at least three and a half to four million clean votes” cast in the last elections. In a press appearance upon his return from Turkey, Atta also insisted that the coalition members constituted “the system’s pillar.”

Riding on a wave of protests

The formation of the coalition from within the government comes at a time when protestors, calling themselves the “Uprising for Change,” resumed their demonstrations on 3 July 2017 (AAN background here). The movement’s first protest, which took place on 2 June 2017, was trigged by a massive truck bomb in Kabul’s city centre on 31 May 2017 (see AAN’s previous report here). It has since taken on a new dimension, following security forces’ use of live rounds, which killed at least six protestors. One other person was killed in a clash during the removal of one of the movement’s sit-in tents the night between 19 and 20 June 2017 (see AAN’s previous report here).

Criticism from within and outside the government of the president and of those close to him has been increasing. On 13 July 2017, more than 60 members of parliament, including the first deputy speaker of the Wolesi Jirga Humayun Humayun, travelled to participate in a gathering in support of the national security forces. General Abdul Razeq, Kandahar’s powerful chief of police who addressed the gathering, said that the government had been “taken hostage by a few, like in the dark days of Mullah Omar.” Razeq is loyal to former President Hamed Karzai (see AAN reporting here) Humayun also accused the government of causing both ethnic and intra-ethnic tensions. On 9 July 2017, the Enlightening Movement that emerged from among those protesting the rerouting of a planned power line (AAN reporting here) announced that it would organise a new protest on the first anniversary of a suicide bomb attack claimed by Daesh during a demonstration it had organised at Deh Mazang Square in western Kabul on 2 Asad 1396 in the Afghan calendar (which, unlike last year and coincidentally on 23 July 2016, falls on 24 July 2017 this year).

The coalition’s members and their internal disunity

The members of the coalition – also called the ‘Ankara Triangle’ by Afghan social media activists – because it emerged out of meetings in Dostum’s Ankara residence – are political leaders from the Tajik, Hazara and Uzbek communities. Mainly:

• First Vice-President Abdul Rashid Dostum, the founder and leader of Jombesh-e Melli Islami Afghanistan (National Islamic Movement of Afghanistan) and until recently the unchallenged leader of the Uzbek community (AAN’s analysis here on recent developments);
• Foreign Minister Salahuddin Rabbani, acting chairperson of Jamiat-e Islami Afghanistan (Islamic Society of Afghanistan), one of the strongest parties and predominated by Tajiks;
• Balkh Governor Atta Muhammad Nur, head of Jamiat-e Islami’s Executive Council (shura-ye ejra’iya);
• Second Deputy Chief Executive Muhammad Mohaqeq, the leader of Wahdat-e Islami Mardom-e Afghanistan (People’s Islamic Unity Party of Afghanistan) and an influential Hazara leader.

As discussed above, the new Coalition is the culmination of complaints by Dostum and the two Jamiat leaders Rabbani and Atta, and they have now been joined by Muhammad Mohaqeq, the second deputy chief executive. Mohaqeq began criticising certain circles within the government (without naming names) in an interview with Ariana TV on 24 June 2017. Like Rabbani, Atta and Dostum, Mohaqeq implied that he appeared to be the target of a terrorist attack on Al-Zahra Mosque (which killed one of his most influential backers, a prominent businessman named Haji Hussain Ramazanzada – see media report here). Mohaqeq said he had been due to appear at the mosque for a late night religious ceremony when it came under attack; he had been late due to an invitation to iftar (breaking of the fast). He said that the attack had intended to cause more casualties than it did, including himself and some other high-ranking personalities. On 24 June, in his Eid message, he complained that two or three influential ministers who were close to the top of the “power pyramid” had revoked the authorities of all the ministries and that other ministers did not have any power, even in their own ministries.” He claimed that the “circle monopolising power” was attempting to “marginalise other factions” and that this was more important than working to prevent the fall of districts or protecting security forces from increasing casualties. (6)

Wahdat deputy leader Muhammad Nateqi, who also attended the Ankara meetings, insisted when talking to AAN that the coalition was a coalition of the three parties and not of the individual leaders. He pointed out that the agreement had been signed by six people: in addition to the four leaders Dostum, Atta, Rabbani and Mohaqeq, Dostum’s son Bator, the party’s acting leader in the country, and Nateqi himself, in his capacity as deputy of Mohaqeq’s party, had also both signed the agreement. Both were probably brought in to make the pact look balanced (with two representatives per party) and to hide the fact that Jamiat is represented by two competing prominent leaders.

It is not fully clear whether the two Jamiat leaders have the full support of all the Jamiat heavyweights, as some of them, such as Ismail Khan (who does not hold any government post) and Ahmad Zia Massud (who was dismissed by the president from his position as the president’s special representative for reform and good governance in April 2017), have been calling for early elections in contrast to the coalition’s declared aim of reforming and stabilising the existing government, not toppling it. A more radical Jamiat dissenter, Sayyed Ibrahim Emad, son of Sayyed Nurullah Emad, the former deputy head of Jamiat, claimed that “95 per cent of Jamiat members” are against the coalition, which may be taken with a pinch of salt. Jamiat’s demand (also reflected in its statement issued on 5 June 2017) for the dismissal of the national security adviser was immediately rejected by the Palace. But this demand has now also been taken up by the new coalition.

While the coalition’s support for the implementation of the NUG agreement has not earned them any explicit support from the chief executive who is also a leading Jamiati, Abdullah has not opposed it publicly either. This is understandable given that it will be hard for him to divorce from Jamiat (and also to some extent from Mohaqeq), whose supporters constituted his main voter base during the 2014 elections and continue to be his political mainstay. (Without alienating Jamiat’s heavyweights, Abdullah has also successfully manoeuvred among the inner-Jamiat struggle for leadership, where, for a while, he appeared to have been side-lined – see more background here)

Moreover, Abdullah’s working relations with the president remain unstable. (7) Sources told AAN that Abdullah remained sceptical about the president. For instance, in one recent private meeting with his high-profile supporters, Abdullah complained that the Palace had tried to drive a wedge between him and his main election supporter, Balkh governor Nur, in order to weaken Abdullah and then do “whatever it wanted.” He also grumbled that the Palace continued to disempower the ministers affiliated with him. Last month, during the weekly meeting of the council of ministers that he chairs, Abdullah publicly criticised certain ministers for not attending his meetings taking particular aim at the minister of finance who, after a seven-month absence, finally showed up at the meeting on 10 July 2017. On 11 July 2017, the president appointed (by decree) four new deputy ministers to the Ministry of Finance, including a replacement for Abdullah’s nephew Mustafa Mastur, who was the financial and administrative deputy minister. Sources close to Abdullah have told AAN that he has ordered Mastur not to leave his position, revealing the thorny relations that remain between the president and the chief executive.

The challenge posed by the coalition has now taken on an even more dramatic dimension following the news that Dostum’s plane was denied permission to land in Mazar-e Sharif on 17 July 2017, where he was due to participate in the official inauguration of the coalition and where Balkh’s Governor Atta (who was Dostum’s main rival for much of the post-2001 period) had reportedly gone to the airport with hundreds of supporters to welcome him (see this media report). Although both Dostum’s and Atta’s offices have denied the news, William Salvin, a spokesman for the NATO-led Resolute Support Mission forces, confirmed that their commander for the northern region had received a call seeking permission from the central government for the vice-president’s landing. The government has not provided any official explanation, but some sources from within it also confirmed the incident, warning that the vice-president could return to the country on the condition that he accepts being put under house arrest at his home in Kabul and appear in court to answer the accusations of torture and physical abuse levelled against him by his political rival, Ahmad Eshchi. Earlier, on 23 June 2017, General Dostum in his Eid-ul Fitr message had reminded the people that he was in Turkey for his son Batur Dostum’s engagement party and would return to the country after the holidays. Before Dostum’s failed attempt to return, Nateqi had confirmed to AAN that the member parties of the coalition would declare its existence and would present its programmes in Kabul.

Reactions from inside and outside the government

President Ghani reacted swiftly, albeit indirectly, to the formation of the new coalition when addressing several groups of supporters invited to the presidential palace. He resumed this practice recently, in the face of mounting pressure from the protest movements and from inside his own government. (He also held a string of meetings immediately after he took power in September 2014.) For instance, talking to elders, young people and civil society and political activists from the three south eastern provinces of ‘Loya Paktia’ and eastern Kabul on 30 June 2017, he welcomed “reform plans,” but rejected “ideas of sharing (power).” He said that “the presidential seat is not a shared seat” insisting on the president’s dominance in the political system. (8)

This rising polarisation within the government quickly extended to the parliament and beyond. On 3 July 2017, the first deputy speaker of the Wolesi Jirga (Lower House of Parliament), Humayun Humayun, previously a strong supporter of the president, called the formation of the new coalition a result of “the president’s poor leadership.” He criticised Ghani for failing “to reach an agreement with his deputy, with his governor or with the CEO’s second deputy.” Other MPs such as Allah Gul Mujahed accused the coalition’s members of wanting “to plunge the country into a crisis.” Hezb-e Islami leader Gulbuddin Hekmatyar, also joined the chorus criticising the coalition, continuing to emphasise his loyalty and the indispensability of his party to the government since his return to Kabul following the September 2016 peace deal.

In the face of growing criticism, the president continues to promote his own narrative, which is – as evident in his reactions mentioned above – that these leaders are preventing him from delivering services to the people and changing the culture of governance. He also expressed concerns about the consequences of reviving ethnic polarisation, recalling what happened in the 2014 pre-election period. In his speech at the Joint Monitoring and Evaluation Board on 10 July 2017, he admitted that the discontent was increasingly taking on an ethnic hue, bringing about ethnic polarisation, a cause of “invisible annihilation”. Indirectly referring to the new coalition’s leaders, Ghani warned that “unscrupulous leaders and individuals who sacrifice the national interests for their personal gains could manipulate a polarized society”. However, the UN Secretary-General’s Special Representative for Afghanistan, Tadamichi Yamamoto, pointed to related deficits on the government side when briefing the UN Security Council on 21 June 2017. Here he urged “enhanced efforts by the National Unity Government to increase political inclusiveness, strengthen accountability, and improve the government’s credibility, particularly in the security sector”, otherwise “we are likely to face more crises in an increasingly fragile environment.”

In the meantime, another political group consisting of high-profile politicians called Mehwar-e Mardom Afghanistan (People’s Axis of Afghanistan) announced its formation on 16 July 2017 as a “political opposition current”, denouncing the NUG’s “failed and divisive policies”. (Members of its leadership council include former President Hamed Karzai’s affiliates, especially Former National Security Adviser Rangin Dadfar Spanta, former NDS chief Rahmatullah Nabil, former chief electoral officer Daud Ali Najafi and Shakiba Hashemi, an MP from Kandahar.)

Conclusion: Resurgence of ethnic polarisation

The announcement of the ‘Ankara coalition’ by Dostum, Mohaqeq, Rabbani and Atta, who all hold government positions, brought the paralysing power struggle within the NUG to the fore again (AAN analysis about previous power struggles, here). The member-parties of the coalition constitute vote banks for both the president and the chief executive in the disputed 2014 presidential elections and continue to hold a strong sway in their (mainly ethnic and regional) constituencies.

The ‘Ankara coalition’, which Nateqi termed “a protest from within” could potentially mount a more daunting challenge to the embattled government than the more civil society-based protest movements (ie, the Enlightening Movement and Uprising for Change). Their difference lies in that they are multi-ethnic, cross-factional (in the sense of election campaign camps) and all their members hold government positions. Unlike the grassroots protest movements that have brought up issues of social and security sector reforms, the new coalition – although utilising some of the same slogans – focuses on the on-going power struggle between the political classes within the NUG, and reflects its personal, factional and ethnic dimensions.

The rhetoric used by coalition members and the reactions from the government have already further deepened the polarisation within the government. But parliamentary elections have been announced for July 2018, and 2019 will see the next presidential poll. And as the ever-fluctuating combination of election camps and coalitions show, the ethnic factor is only one in a more diverse mixture of factors determining who will end up on certain election tickets – as the break-up of a similar pre-2014 election coalition, then-called the National Front (background by AAN here), showed.

The rather dramatic issue of whether and under what circumstances the first Vice-President will or will not be able to return to Afghanistan, will only be the next act in a play that will end in 2019. In any case, Dostum has the ability to mobilise his followers from afar – as both a challenge to the government and as a bargaining chip in future elections.

(1) On 23 July 2017, Muhammad Nateqi, the deputy head of Hezb-e Wahdat-e Mardom Afghanistan, confirmed to AAN that it was their declaration and that it had been signed. However, he also said that it had been decided that only the text without the signatures should be published.

(2) In addition to a call for reforms, which might only be aimed at strengthening the position of the coalition members within the NUG, it also seems to be focusing on the next elections. This kind of coalition has appeared before almost every election. For instance, Nur told the BBC that the Palace was trying to pull apart the coalition but has “emphasised that the coalition leaders are committed to continuing until their demands are met.” While the coalition has been formed apparently in response to what they call the president’s centralisation of power, Nur has already described “long-term goals” for the coalition, which is that it will field its own candidate or support someone who “will probably not be Mr Ghani.”

(3) Rabbani continues to serve as the (acting-) minister of foreign affairs, despite the fact that he was given a vote of no confidence in November 2016 (see AAN’s previous report here) after the MPs set off an interpellation motion against those ministers who had not been able to spend more than 70 per cent of their ministries’ development budget for the financial year of 1394 (2015). On 6 June 2017, Rabbani boycotted the Kabul Process conference reportedly based on a decision by the Jamiat leaders, despite the fact that President Ghani held the conference up as a highly important process and did not want it to be weakened by internal disputes.

(4) Earlier, Nur was in negotiations over the implementation of the NUG deal with the president and to possibly join Ghani’s camp in Kabul. His negotiation with the president became controversial among Jamiat members, which only led to his reappointment as the governor of Balkh on 20 February 2017; before then he had been serving as acting-governor.

But these talks have now fallen apart. Tahir Qadiry, a senior adviser to Nur, has said this is because Ghani’s advisers “began spoiling the discussions.” He further accused the president of starting to crack down on “these personalities [Nur, Dostum, Mohaqeq and Rabbani],” saying that “[t]he clique wanted to get rid of these people.”

(5) The first vice-president was already in Turkey. He flew to Turkey on 19 May 2017 (see media report here for ‘medical treatment’ (see here), which came months after Ahmad Ishchi, a former governor of Jawzjan province just before the Taleban took over the province, accused Dostum in late 2016 of torturing and abusing him. The Attorney General’s Office (AGO) said that it had appointed a team to investigate the allegation. However, no clear results were made public and only at one point in February 2017, security forces supposedly besieged his house, which ended without any clash with his bodyguards (the coalition also called for an “impartial investigation of the illegal siege of the first vice-president’s residence in Kabul” (see here) On his part, Dostum accused Ishchi of financing ‘the opposition’ and of being involved in “security problems” (see here).

(6) Over the past two years, during the Zabul Seven, the Jombesh-e Roshnayi protest movements largely organised by Hazaras, Mohaqeq has defended the government. In November 2015, for instance, when the slaughter of seven Hazara travellers who had been taken hostage by Daesh sympathisers in Zabul province triggered one of the largest demonstrations (Zabul Seven protest) ever held in Kabul (See AAN’s previous report here), he lashed out at the organisers of the protest for what he called “setting the Hazara people against the Palace.” After the 16 May 2016 and 23 July 2017 demonstrations organised by the Enlightening Movement against the cabinet’s decision to reroute a 500 KV power transmission line from Bamyan to Salang (see AAN’s previous reports here and here, Mohaqeq, after an initial complaint against the cabinet’s decision in which he claimed his and Second Vice-President Sarwar Danesh’s voices had not been heard, again defended the government after the president agreed to appoint a review commission, which came up with a suggestion to extend a substation power line of 220 KV from Dushi in Baghlan province to Bamyan. Mohaqeq argued that this 220KV was adequate for Bamyan. This gave rise to outrage against him among his Hazara supporters, as they had expected him to act as one of their representatives in the NUG (in addition to Vice-President Danesh) in support of their demands; this cost him a large degree of popularity.

(7) Abdullah himself publicly criticised the president’s ‘unilateralism’ less than a year ago, on 11 August 2016 (see AAN’s previous analysis here and here). Since then he has patched up his differences with the president, although only on the surface. Their underlying problems remain.

(8) Besides his indirect response to the coalition through his meetings with people, the president also sent NDS chief Masum Stanekzai to Turkey for talks with General Dostum. Dostum’s chief of staff, Enayatullah Babur Farahmand, told the BBC that Stanekzai met Dostum in Ankara on 4 July 2017 and invited General Dostum to participate in “an imminent meeting of political leaders of Afghanistan” in Kabul. Earlier, another unconfirmed report indicated that Stanekzai had made a deal to offer to the first vice-president, in which the government would facilitate Dostum’s return to the country and restore his vice-presidential authorities in return for his withdrawal from the coalition. Muhammad Nateqi also confirmed to AAN that the NDS chief not only met General Dostum but also Mohaqeq and Rabbani. However, the Palace said it was not aware of the meeting. On the contrary, the Palace has asked the judicial agencies and the attorney general office to conclude Dostum’s dossier as soon as possible and that if Dostum is proved to be innocent as result of the investigations, he will continue his work; if not, he will be tried.

The US military has announced that it has killed Abu Saeed, the amir of Islamic State Khorasan Province (ISKP), in an air strike in Kunar province earlier this month. Abu Saeed was a veteran fighter with a long militant career. His death – if confirmed – deals a considerable blow to the group, which is under growing pressure from the different enemies lined up against it. Nonetheless, it has continued to be able to put up stiff resistance and has clung to most of the territory it has taken from the Taleban in Nangarhar. AAN’s Borhan Osman looks at the state of the ISKP after the reported death of its new leader.

ISKP had not yet recovered from the death in May 2017 of its second leader, Sheikh Abdul Hasib, when his replacement, Abu Saeed, was killed on 11 July 2017, according to the US Department of Defence. The Pentagon statement, issued on 14 July, said Abu Saeed was killed three days earlier in Kunar in a drone strike. Independent sources from the province told AAN the air strike took place in the Katar area of Watapur district, which borders Nuristan province. Two other ISKP militants were also killed in the attack. However, according to a local journalist, relatives of one of the victims told him no senior ISKP members were among those killed. While the group has not commented publicly on the reports of Abu Saeed’s death, ISKP sources have also rejected it; AAN knows from three ISKP sources that they denied these reports categorically.

 Abu Saeed: A brief profile

Abu Saeed, nom de guerre for Mawlawi Abdul Rahman Ghaleb, is (or was) in his (early?) 40s, from Bajaur agency, one of Pakistan’s Federally Administrated Tribal Areas (FATA) that borders Kunar. Unlike most other ISKP commanders, Abu Saeed is (or was) a veteran with a career of more than half of a decade in militancy. He steadily rose through the ranks of at least three militant groups, constantly evolving his affiliation to the latest ‘version’ of the most violent extremist strands. In his late teens, he left his local madrasa, studies unfinished, to join one of the earliest armed Islamist groups operating in the tribal areas, Tahrik-e Nefaz-e Shariat-e Muhammadi (TNSM), which was created in the early 1990s, struggled for the implementation of Islamic law in Swat, Malakand and Bajaur and even took over parts of Pakistan’s Malakand Division for several days in 1994. After the US started its military campaign in Afghanistan in late 2001, TNSM contributed fighters to support the Afghan Taleban. Abdul Rahman aka Abu Saeed was reportedly among them. After the fall of the Taleban regime, he returned to Bajaur to complete his studies and became a mawlawi (someone certified as a religious scholar upon graduating from a madrasa).

Abu Saeed remained close with Faqir Muhammad, one of the TNSM leaders, and was promoted to serve as a judge (qazi) for the group. When Faqir joined the Tahrik-e Taleban-e Pakistan (TTP) upon its emergence in 2007, Abdul Rahman followed suit. He rose through its ranks to become the deputy to the movement’s commander for Bajaur around 2011. In 2012, he was reportedly killed in an air strike by the US military in Marawara district of Kunar, which killed the Bajaur commander, Dadullah. He remained close to Dadullah’s successor Abu Bakr. When the latter joined ISKP in February 2015 along with his key commanders as well as about 200 fighters, Abu Saeed also followed. Abu Saeed studied in a Hanafi madrasa and had remained Hanafi, but when joining ISKP he, like most others who do so, converted to Salafism.

After the death of ISKP’s first amir, Saeed Khan, in late August 2016, Abu Saeed served as the group’s amir for Nangarhar, according to one account based on ISKP sources. According to another account, he was appointed as a deputy to Abdul Hasib.

Abu Saeed and ISKP’s Bajauri commanders, in general, have mostly used the upper Kunar valley as their base, both when they were part of TTP and later. Specifically, many of the commanders kept a constant presence in Sholtan valley which borders Bajaur. The population of the valley, like the population of the districts under ISKP’s influence in Nangarhar, almost entirely belong to the Pashtun tribe of the Shinwari. When Abu Saeed took over the leadership of ISKP, he reportedly wanted to increase the group’s operations and visibility in Kunar; the area was mostly familiar to him and it was also important for him in order to connect to his home base of Bajaur. Among the tribal (FATA) agencies, Bajaur has seen the most ISKP activity, thanks to the Bajauri commanders’ commitment to extend operations to their home areas. Given Abu Saeed’s traditional base in Kunar, it is not surprising that the air strike on 11 July 2017 targeted him in that area.

Being a veteran militant and mawlawi as well as having served as a militant judge plus being experienced as a deputy chief commander for one of the most important TTP strongholds supplied him with both ideological clout and strategic know-how. As a sign of respect for his scholarly credentials, he was referred to as “Sheikh” Abu Saeed among ISKP members. In one of the interviews aired by ISKP’s Khilafat Ghag Radio in early April, he seemed to be posing as an ideologue, vowing that ISKP’s jihad will continue “until conquering the United States and converting its citizens to tawhid (oneness of God as perceived by Islam, but narrowed to a sectarian concept by the Salafis).” All that made him a good fit for the job of ISKP amir – and possibly a more effective leader than his predecessor, Abdul Hasib.

How was he appointed?

Abu Saeed became the amir of ISKP less than three weeks before his reported death. His appointment took more than one month, after the death of Abdul Hasib in late April 2017 (see AAN analysis here), as members differed over several candidates for Hasib’s replacement proposed by senior ISKP members. The Central Asian fighters, generally suspicious of many former TTP fighters for their possible secret ties with the Pakistani government, objected to the nomination of candidates with that background. At the heart of the dispute was Abdullah Orakzai, aka Aslam Faruqi, a former mid-level TTP commander from Orakzai agency, who has been close to the first ISKP leader, Saeed Khan. The Central Asian contingent, which possibly constitutes less than a third of ISKP’s fighting force, presented its own candidate, Muawiya Khorasani, a nom de guerre not heard before; he is thought to be from Uzbekistan.

Since the Central Asians objected to all the candidates with TTP background, and in effect wanted leadership for themselves, ISKP reached a deadlock over appointing a new amir. According to one source close to ISKP, the issue was referred to IS Centre (In Syria or Iraq), with a request to guide ISKP with a mechanism for the appointment. From there then an order came to elect a 40-member shura to make such appointments who, then, would be finally confirmed from IS Centre. This is a single source, and AAN could not corroborate it through other reliable accounts. The shura agreed over Abu Saeed as a compromise candidate, and he was then quickly endorsed by IS Centre, according to the source.

The state of ISKP’s influence in Nangarhar

For the past one and a half months, ISKP has been engaged in intense battles, some of which have been on and off, in three districts of Nangarhar: Achin, Deh Bala and Pachir wa Agam. The fiercest fighting has happened in Achin district, the centre of a concentrated ground operation by Afghan National Security Forces (ANSF) accompanied by intensified air strikes and supported by the US military. The operation has focused on Pekha and Mamand valleys, in both of which the joint forces have faced heavy resistance from ISKP. The offensive has not forced the group to yield much territory. The progress of the joint forces has been described by local officials and residents as happening at a snail’s pace. ISKP has also put up similar resistance in Deh Bala district, which previously had been largely spared from ground offensives (also from air strikes). Most of the territory in this district under the control of ISKP has remained so for the past two years. The joint forces in June penetrated deep into that territory for the first time and even managed to briefly hold parts of Oghuz and Gurgury, the two areas that have served as the centre for the group in the district. But later, the combined forces retreated from these areas apparently due to tough resistance from the group. The US military suffered two casualties in the operation in the district on 7 July.

Pachir wa Agam district, with the Tora Bora mountains and its cave complexes, was the focus first of an ISKP offensive and later of a counter-offensive by the joint forces. ISKP had extended its presence to Tora Bora in mid-June after defeating the Taleban along the way from Deh Bala. Given the symbolic importance of Tora Bora, which has remained the strategic hideout (and launch pad for attacks) for the anti-Soviet mujahedin and later for Arabs from al Qaeda, including its leader Osama bin Laden, the ANSF moved quickly to contain ISKP’s advance. Within days of ISKP’s move into Tora Bora, the ministry of defence announced that the ANSF had cleared the strategic area of ISKP. However, the operation only took back the parts of Tora Bora that are closer to populated areas; the bulk of the most important valley, the uninhabitable Milawa valley, still remains under ISKP control.

Government officials and media reports portrayed Tora Bora as one re-enforced stronghold, similar to the network of caves that the “mother of all bombs” (see AAN analysis here) airstrike (mostly) destroyed in Achin. However, Tora Bora is a much larger area, a series of valleys surrounded by mountain ranges, and the place where bin Laden’s fortress was built is not the most important part of it. The joint forces have been trying hard in recent weeks to lay siege to the ISKP fighters inside those valleys, but have faced tough resistance. ISKP seems to be tucked away in a remote and naturally uninhabitable point in Tora Bora that is a several-hour foot journey from its last supply point in Deh Bala. Therefore, ISKP will also be unable to retain it for any length of time. For the time being, the group might keep a mere presence there to use it as a hideout and to show off that it controls a place of such huge symbolism.

In Chaparhar district, where ISKP fighters have only intermittent control over parts of the district close to Deh Bala, the group has been engaged in fierce fighting with the Taleban. The Taleban have never been able to fully clear the district of ISKP. Major parts of it to the south have changed hands between the two groups numerous times, with huge suffering inflicted on locals. Every time following a takeover, the victorious group will conduct a witch hunt against suspected or actual supporters of the rival group.

Nazian, the district in Nangarhar where ISKP’s close ally Lashkar-e Islam led by Mangal Bagh is present, has largely been spared from military operations and fighting for a long time.

Pakistani operations against ISKP: Eliminating militants? Or pushing them into Afghanistan?

ISKP is also facing the threat of losing its most important retreat and supply centre on the Pakistani side of the Durand Line. Its Khyber 4 Operation launched on 16 July 2017, the Pakistani army says (see here and here), aims at preventing ISKP from spreading its influence into Pakistani territory. In fact the operation is about clearing those parts of Khyber agency still out of the government’s full control of militants. The operation is said to be specifically targeting the Rajgal valley in the Khyber agency. Rajgal, which borders Achin and Nazian districts on the Afghan side, has remained a constant hideout of various militant groups for over a decade. Through the valley, ISKP militants have been freely crossing the line with supplies of weapons and fighters, effectively eliminating the border between the two countries. Numerous sources told AAN that ISKP transported ammunition into Nangarhar from Khyber agency on backs of mules. It also gives access to vast areas in other valleys in Khyber.

Previous operations by the Pakistani military, namely the Khyber 3 Operation, that targeted militants in the agency, failed to displace them from Rajgal valley. Capturing the valley would deny ISKP a key strategic retreat and supply route.

On the other hand, if successful, the operation in Rajgal would most likely sweep the militants currently based there into Afghanistan. They would then swell the ranks of the militant groups operating here, particularly ISKP and its ally Lashkar-e Islam. The Pakistani army’s previous operations in the Khyber agency had a similar effect: Rather than being killed and captured, militants were mostly dislocated from their old bases and pushed into Afghanistan. They could easily cross the unmanned porous border in the districts of Nazian and Achin. Additionally, if the Pakistani military manages to clear Rajgal valley, the militants will still have access to Khyber agency through the adjacent Tirah valley, which borders the ISKP-controlled Deh Bala district; although that is a much longer route with harder terrain. Rajgal is not the only valley still out of the Pakistani government’s control; parts of Tirah continue to serve as hideouts for militant groups.

Decapitated, but not demoralised

The death of veteran ISKP leader Abu Saeed, if confirmed, would deal a significant blow to the embattled group. The ‘decapitation’ of ISKP has been well underway over the past two years as the US military has stepped up its military campaign, mainly through air strikes, against the group in Nangarhar. It has lost about 20 of its founding and some of its ‘second-generation’ leaders, the overwhelming majority by air strikes. ISKP is also too overstretched to fight front-line battles in three districts simultaneously for long. The Pakistani operation further adds to the group’s woes, as losing one of its key retreats and supply hubs would tighten the siege around the group in Afghanistan. The group is also facing emerging internal differences, mainly between the more radical Central Asian fighters and the locally better entrenched and therefore more powerful Pakistani leaders.

In the face of all these threats, ISKP has shown it is resilient. Recruits continue to pour in to Nangarhar from various provinces of Afghanistan as well as from Pakistan. No signs are visible yet that its appeal to some radicalised sectors is fading. Additionally, local residents describe the group’s fighting vigour as exceeding that of any militant group they have seen previously. The group can be expected to put all its efforts into holding out against ANSF and US forces to retain its most important stronghold in Nangarhar. ISKP might be less smart than the Taleban in protecting its leaders, but it has proved to be a much tougher fighting force than many could anticipate.

After years of attempts at inner-party reform, dissidents of Jombesh, one of Afghanistan’s major political parties, have given up. They have left and created a new party; not very surprisingly it is called the “New Jombesh.” The recent departure to Turkey – officially for ‘medical treatment’ – by ‘old’ Jombesh leader (and First Vice President) Abdul Rashid Dostum indirectly facilitated this step. AAN’s co-director, Thomas Ruttig (with input by Ali Yawar Adili), takes a closer look at this emerging competition for the leadership over Afghanistan’s Uzbeks.

A new political party has been launched by dissidents from Abdul Rashid Dostum’s Jombesh. Jombesh-e Nawin-e Afghanistan (New Movement of Afghanistan) officially declared its existence – the step traditionally taken by new Afghan parties before officially registering – at a press conference on 11 June 2017.

The new party’s launch happened only a month after the ‘old’ Jombesh’s leader Abdul Rashid Dostum, a former warlord of Uzbek ethnicity who is also the country’s First Vice President, left Afghanistan for Turkey. Ostensibly, this trip was for ‘medical treatment’. In fact, it amounted to an all-but-official dismissal from his position in response to Dostum’s involvement in a high-profile case of violence against a former political ally (more on this below). (1) While in Turkey, Dostum joined a new tripartite Etelaf bara-ye Nejat-e Afghanistan (Alliance for the Salvation of Afghanistan) forged in his Ankara residence; it is a coalition between his ‘old’ Jombesh, Jamiat-e Islami and the wing of the Hazara-dominated Hezb-e Wahdat led by Muhammad Muhaqqeq (see here). (A separate AAN dispatch on this issue will follow soon.)

The removal of Dostum from the scene and the establishment of yet another opposition alliance are additional expressions of the multi-faceted crisis that the National Unity Government (NUG) has faced since it was established almost three years ago. This crisis is now increasingly underpinned by ethnic and political polarisation, both within the NUG and beyond (for information about earlier episodes of the crisis see AAN analysis here, here and here).

With the overshadowing figure of Dostum away and his return unclear, the dissidents dared to do what they had tried to avoid for more than a decade whilst pushing for reform (and, without saying it aloud, trying to sideline the volatile Dostum) – they made a break with the mother party. (For more on the reform attempts in Jombesh, see this 2012 AAN report)

While the new party still has to register, the new Jombesh is, for now, led by a temporary executive council. The first party congress will be held “soon” according to Muhammad Alem Sa’i, the party’s current leading figure. Sa’i is a former governor of Jowzjan (2009-13) and, at the time, has led an interesting group of younger Turkish-educated reformers called the Aidan Group. The members of this group owe their careers to Dostum after he had selected them for scholarships abroad. They tried, after their return to Afghanistan, to win his support for their own claim to the party leadership, but this failed. In 2013, Dostum and Sa’i fell out over the latter’s refusal to join the opposition alliance to which Dostum then still belonged, the National Front of Afghanistan. After protests staged by Dostum’s followers against Sa’i, and an attack on his residence, (media report here), the central government decided to replace Sa’i as governor.

According to Sa’i, the new party has already been unofficially operating and recruiting members in Kabul and the provinces for four years. He claimed it had branches in 25 provinces and members from all ethnic groups.

The original Jombesh, officially called Jombesh-e Melli-ye Islami-ye Afghanistan (National Islamic Movement of Afghanistan), is one of the country’s main tanzims, ie the military-political networks that emerged during the fight against the Soviet occupation (1979-98). This one, however, was originally set up by the communist regime as a security guard (a “group for the defence of the revolution”) around the oilfields of Sherberghan in Jowzjan province and Dostum’s home area. (2) Jombesh had, and still has, its main basis drawn from among the Turkic-speaking population of northern Afghanistan. These are mainly the larger Uzbek ethnic groups and fewer Turkmens.

However, Jombesh’s and Dostum’s clout does not solely come from a successful appeal to ethnic loyalties. Dostum has also, consistently and successfully, prevented contenders for the leadership emerging from within his party and the wider ethnic community. If necessary, he acted ruthlessly, even vis-à-vis his own close followers, if they deviated from his line or threatened to become too much of a challenge. In the past, there were also hand-outs to his followers and to Sheberghan’s population (such as free gas supply, a feature that now appears to have ceased). Such hand-outs were financed from his control over the Sheberghan gas fields and, according to reports that are difficult to verify, payments from regional allies in Central Asia and beyond, including, at least for some time, the US (see, for example, this report, p 4). Dostum was also among those warlords who were re-mobilised with CIA money as allies against the Taleban in 2001; the Washington Post, at that time, called him “America’s man in Afghanistan”.

New Jombesh’s political positions

The New Jombesh has clearly put itself in the government’s camp. In its first statement in mid-May 2017 (still before its official launch) published over social media – the communication channel of choice for many Afghan politicians, political parties and social groups – the party declared its unequivocal “support for the government under the leadership of President Ghani,” adding that the government should “complete its term.”

In the on-going debate about the failures of the National Unity Government and the demands by the opposition for reforms (demands that are often primarily aimed at the re-distribution of government positions) or even a change in the political system (AAN analysis here), the New Jombesh has rejected demands for resignation of the National Unity Government and early presidential elections. It also announced that it would take part in the recently scheduled 2018 parliamentary elections.

On the subject of the recent terrorist attacks and protests in Kabul (see AAN analysis here, and here), the New Jombesh tried to take a balanced position, as it called for “deep and fundamental reforms to the security agencies,” the avoidance of “any political, ethnic and regional taste” in the demands of the opposition, and the identification and prosecution of the perpetrators of the terrorist attacks. Muhammad Alem Kohkan, the secretary of the New Jombesh, even offered up the party as a mediator between the protestors and the government. (3)

The new party’s first official statements do not distinguish it much from other Afghan political parties. The catchwords used are familiar: supporting national unity, reform and political pluralism with this based upon “the principles of Islamic and human ethics” and aspiring to “consolidate the democratic system.”

The name of the new party suggests that the dissident’s break with the mother-party is not that clear-cut and that it probably intends to, in the first place, recruit among the ‘old’ Jombesh’s core base: the northern Afghan Turkic-speakers or turk-tabaran (4). In order to do so, it has raised Jombesh’s old battle cry over the Uzbeks’ (or Turks’) under-representation in the government institutions demanding a “fair representation of different ethnic and social groups.” With its potential connections to the (resources of the) government – from which Dostum once more has become estranged – this amounts to a veritable challenge to the so far unchallengeable Dostum.

At the same time, the new party – just as the ‘old’ Jombesh did – tries to reach out to other ethnic groups, not least because Afghanistan’s laws governing political parties exclude purely ethnicity-based parties. The new party called upon “all well-natured and patriotic countrymen, including respected ulema, tribal elders, civil and media activists, traders, business people, farmers, workers, women and youths, who wish to participate actively and constructively in the political struggle” to join. It remains to be seen, though, whether the provincial branches of both Jombeshs have really managed to recruit significant numbers of non-turk-tabaran. (5) Although the ‘old’ Jombesh also always aspired to develop a base among non-Turks, it was never overly successful.

Unsurprisingly, and probably correctly, Sa’i portrayed the establishment of the new party as a continuation of earlier attempts to reform Jombesh from the inside (read AAN analysis of the earlier attempts here and here). In a 18 June 2017 interview with Kabul-based newspaper Madanyat, he said that, as deputy head of the old Jombesh, he had tried to bring reforms to the party, but there had been “no open ear to pay attention to these ideas and programmes” and that in the party “flattering is heeded more than thought, talent and programme.” He also criticised the old party for being “monopolised by one family,” adding that “no role is granted to people outside the family of General Abdul Rashid Dostum.” Therefore, he said, a council, not an individual, would lead the new party.

Esmatullah Raghib, a columnist for the Ghor-based Jam-e Ghor website, criticised Dostum for having allowed both Karzai and Ghani to repeatedly “deceive” him “without learning from the experience”. Indeed Karzai, for example, had given Dostum the title of “Chief of Staff to the Commander in Chief of the Afghan National Army,” a grandiose-sounding position without staff, mandate or budget. Raghib also accused Dostum of “suppression” of the younger, educated generation of Uzbeks who wanted to become politically active outside Jombesh.

 A chain of allies-turned-foes

Known politicians among the new party’s leaders who are mentioned in the media include Jamahir Anwari (a Turkmen and former Minister of Refugees and Repatriation Affairs), Hashim Ortaq (an MP from Faryab), Nazari Turkman (a former deputy speaker of the Wolesi Jirga from Kunduz) and Ezzatullah Amed, former head of Kabul Polytechnic. Former Minister of Mines Wahidullah Shahrani has denied his reported association with the party.

Ahmad Eshchi, son of an arbab (rich landlord), and former governor of Dostum’s home province Jawzjan in the 1990s, and a son who is a member of Jowzjan’s provincial council have also joined, as photos on social media show. Eshchi – formerly and better known as Engineer Ahmad – was involved in a widely reported personal conflict with Dostum in late 2016, after which Eshchi accused Dostum of serious physical assault and abuse (see, for instance, one media report here).

The case was never fully investigated, although there were arrest warrants issued for a number of Dostum’s bodyguards and Afghanistan’s donors reportedly strongly supported such a move. When Dostum refused to cooperate with the attorney general, government security forces surrounded his residence and then stood down after he mobilised his own armed supporters.

This was only the latest outbreak in a long-standing political rivalry between Eshchi and Dostum. Having joined Jombesh in the 1990s with a small, but well-organised, northern, left-leaning faction of the 1980s’ ruling People’s Democratic Party of Afghanistan, called Groh-e Kar (Labour Group), Eshchi had already once tried to set up a rival party to Jombesh in the north. In 2003, together with former left-wingers including Groh-e Kar, he launched Jombesh-e Hambastegi-ye Melli Afghanistan (National Solidarity Movement of Afghanistan). His attempt to run for president one year later was prevented by Dostum who feared a split of his vote bank. Eshchi temporarily returned to Jombesh but, in 2016, Dostum accused him of financing “the opposition” and being involved in “security problems”. Both were references to cooperation with the Taleban, or other personal enemies, as Dostum’s convoy had been attacked twice by insurgents while he was personally leading anti-Taleban operations in the north (see media reporting here and here).

Somewhat similarly, another former Dostum ally-turned-foe became part of the New Jombesh: Gul Muhammad Pahlawan who, together with his family, fell out with Dostum after he allegedly ordered the assassination of his brother, Faryab-based commander Rasul Pahlawan in 1996 (Rasul, a Dostum ally, had refused to give up ‘autonomy’ to the latter with his stronghold in Jowzjan). Another brother, General Abdul Malek Pahlawan, who had risen to become Dostum’s deputy, turned the guns against him in revenge in 1997 and helped the Taleban take over Mazar-e Sharif. Later, in 2004, Malek was part of a first attempt to wrest at least part of the northern Turkic electorate from Dostum’s control when he set up Hezb-e Azadi (Freedom Party). (6)

Legal action and elections

Dostum interpreted the investigation against him and his bodyguards in the Eshchi case as an attempt by the president and his allies to sideline, not just himself, but the Uzbeks in general. A few months after he became First Vice President of the country – the highest position ever taken by an Uzbek in Afghanistan – he had accused the president of only giving him unimportant tasks, such as the oversight over the National Olympic Committee. He was “not Ronaldo,” he was quoted as saying then, referring to the Portuguese football star, “You can’t just throw a football at me.”

This was followed by complaints that the government had not supported him when he was attacked during his 2016 anti-Taleban operations, and that National Security Advisor Hanif Atmar and intelligence chief Massum Stanaksai (both Pashtuns) had conspired against him and wanted him killed – implicitly accusing them of being part of a “fifth column” within the government (quoted from this Dari video). He accused Ghani of favouring Pashtuns in his government, particularly from his home province Logar.

The Eshchi case was not the first time legal action was sought against Dostum for violence against a former ally. In 2008, Ghani’s predecessor Karzai suspended Dostum from office and wanted him arrested after a similar case of “kidnap and torture” of Akbar Bai. (7) The latter had accused Dostum of planning the murder of political rivals in his ethnic group, but was also preparing a challenge to Dostum’s political leadership among the turk-tabaran. (8) Dostum’s guards prevented a planned arrest by shooting at the police. In a similar move as that involving the recent departure of Dostum, Karzai and his US allies persuaded him to take a ‘vacation’ in Turkey. (9) One year later, he was brought back, in what the Telegraph called “a last minute gambit by Mr Karzai to secure an ethnic bloc vote which had seemed likely to split in recent weeks.”

The embarrassment potential of the Eshchi case for president Ghani comes from the fact that he had put Dostum on his 2014 presidential ticket in the first place, while full-knowing his background and volatile character. Although Ghani had forced Dostum to half-apologise for his civil war atrocities (see AAN reporting here), the alliance was criticised – particularly as Ghani, during his first attempt at the presidency in 2009, had called Dostum, then a Karzai ally, a “known killer” (quoted here). In order to get Dostum on his side, Ghani had to extract Dostum from an opposition alliance that, in the run-up to this election, united almost all political forces that were considered as the main representative of the three largest non-Pashtun ethnic groups: the Tajiks, Uzbeks and Hazaras (see here and here). To do so, Ghani offered Dostum the first vice-presidency, so far always held by a Tajik – with ‘his’ Uzbek vote block that numerically was large enough to have swung the 2014 result in Ghani’s favour. (10)

The publicity generated by the Eshchi affair enabled President Ghani to generate enough pressure to make Dostum leave on a pretext while, at the same time, avoiding a public break with him and deepening the on-going government crisis. (Some Afghan media reports quoted a spokesman of the president as saying that, if Dostum was proven innocent in the investigations in the Eshchi case, he could resume working in his position (see for example here). 

‘Old’ Jombesh’s reaction

The old Jombesh party reacted with derision to the establishment of the new Jombesh. On the day of its launch, it said it considered the newcomers “affiliated with the government” who would not cause “any disruption or split to the Jombesh party”. Some Dostum supporters went further, calling the New Jombesh “agents of the Palace” and announced on their social media pages that the new party would “not be allowed to operate among the turk-tabaran”. Abdullah Rahimi, a Jombesh representative in Germany, even likened the new party’s leadership with “suicide bombers imported from other side of the border” on his Facebook account.

Already in mid-March, with the Eshchi affair at its zenith, Dostum – who since the last party congress in 2008 officially is ‘only’ Jombesh’s “honorary chairman” – made it clear that he was not willing to rescind control over the mother-party. After years of non-family members being nominal heads of the party, (11) he had his oldest son, Haji Bator Dostum, “unanimously elected” as acting head “until the convening of its fourth congress”, which has regularly been announced since 2011 when it had originally been due. (12)

A Turkey link?

Afghan observers with knowledge of Jombesh’s internal discussions told AAN they believe Turkey played a role in the promotion of the younger generation of Afghan Uzbeks now leading the New Jombesh and supported the removal of Dostum from the Afghan scene by agreeing to host him. A number of the new party’s leaders, including Sa’i, have studied in Turkey – ironically with grants handed out via Jombesh. They also believe that the Afghan government, with possible support by Washington, obtained President Recep Tayyib Erdogan’s support to host Dostum again. (13) In exchange, they say, Ghani conceded control over a network of Afghan-Turk schools to the government in Ankara in February 2017. This was also reported by Afghan media. (14)

There have been good relations between the government in Ankara and the co-Turk Dostum ever since Turkey, after the break-up of the Soviet Union in the early 1990s, tried to project some influence, if not political hegemony, over Turkic Central Asia (which, geographically, extends to the northern slopes of the Hindukush, including what used to be called Afghan Turkestan). Also, Turkey had hosted Dostum already and has been home for parts of his family for some years now. By hosting Dostum again, observers argue, this would further obligate Ghani to the Erdogan government and give the latter increasing influence in Afghanistan.

A ticket home for Dostum?

The establishment of the New Jombesh is the result of a combination of genuine, but failed attempts to reform one of the most powerful parties of the country. It is a foreboding of political positioning before the coming elections. Its break with the mother party seems to herald the end of the attempts for inner-party reform in the original party. Given Dostum’s known reaction to inner-party dissent, a way back for its leaders seems out of the question. They obviously hope to gain the support of the president’s camp by providing it with a platform to mobilise Uzbeks and Turkmens of northern Afghanistan independently from Dostum for the parliamentary elections in 2018 and the next presidential election in 2019.

Whether the president’s side will take up this offer depends on whether it wants to use Dostum’s absence from the country to sideline, or at least weaken, an unloved ally without losing face and to create a political alternative in his ethnic stronghold – or whether it chooses to patch up the conflict with Dostum, as Karzai did before the 2009 presidential election. The reports of his possible return, if the investigation against him (or rather, his bodyguards) proves his innocence, seem to point to the latter. Such an outcome would appear to strengthen Dostum’s hand, as he would, not only return to his vice-presidential position, but also could likely increase the price for his support for the Ghani ticket in the upcoming elections. The fact that Dostum has joined the tripartite “Alliance for the Salvation of Afghanistan” suggests that he is positioning himself to either challenge the government or to use this challenge as a bargaining chip. (A separate AAN dispatch on this issue will follow soon.)

The return of a strengthened Dostum would cement his quasi-monopolistic role as “the Uzbek leader” – a role he is consistently given by the country’s leadership and its allies, as well as the media – and would be another backlash for the emergence of more pluralistic (party) politics in Afghanistan. The new Jombesh, in that scenario, is likely to end up in the margins of Afghanistan’s political landscape. However, the final break of the erstwhile Jombesh reformers with the mother party also shows that there is, both a need, and a niche, for political alternatives in northern Afghanistan.

(1) For now, the Afghan government is officially sticking to the medical treatment version and has called rumours about Dostum being sent into exile “baseless”. The Afghan news agency Tolo reported that relatives had “forced” Dostum to have treatment in Turkey.

(2) During the 1980’s civil wars, Jombesh, which was, in essence, a militia, fought on the side of the Soviet-backed Najibullah government (1987-92) against the mujahedin. It quickly became the regime’s unofficial shock troop. Its brutal forays into southern Afghanistan earned Dostum’s fighters the nickname of kelim-jam, meaning “carpet thieves”. (They did more than just stealing, as reported by the Afghanistan Justice Project (pp 49ff). In 1987, Dostum’s militia was upgraded to the 53rd Infantry Division of the army and, in 1990, he officially became a division commander and a general (see this report, p 17). Five years later, in 1992, with the Najibullah government losing Russian financial support, Dostum did a last-minute about-face. His men occupied Kabul airport, joined the mujahedin and handed Kabul to them; they also prevented Najibullah from boarding a plane into exile in India. As a reward, Hazrat Sebghatullah Mujaddedi, the first interim president of the new mujahedin government, officially gave Dostum his general’s rank again. The mujahedin’s mistrust vis-à-vis the ‘former communist’, though, never fully went away.

As a party, Jombesh was created in early spring 1992, immediately after Dostum’s break with the Najibullah government, under the name of Jombesh-e Shemal (Movement of the North) (see this AAN report, p4). Initially, it was designed as an all-northern counterweight to Shura-ye Nazar, the Jamiat commanders’ network set up by late Ahmad Shah Massud. Atta Muhammad Nur, then a local Jamiat commander outside Mazar-e Sharif, was initially actually a deputy leader of Jombesh (see this report, p 2). Periodically, Jombesh also included Tajiks and Pashtuns, depending on the shifts of regional alliances in northern Afghanistan. After a few months, in June 1992, the party officially was renamed “Jombesh.”

(3) Kohkan has been a member of the executive council of the Rights and Justice Party that was headed by National Security Advisor, Hanif Atmar. Before that, he was active in Jombesh’s cultural and publication section. He is said to be a relative of Hashem Ortaq, an MP from Maimana (Faryab province), whose name is also mentioned as a leading member of the new Jombesh.

(4) Turk-tabar can also relate to an even broader ethnic spectrum or Central Asian background, including the Tajiks, for example.

(5) This has not been overly successful, even in the case of old Jombesh. In 2005, for instance, it adopted a fringe party from Nangrahar province – Hezb-e Mobarezin-e Melli-ye Demokrat-e Solh-e Afghanistan (Party of National Democratic Fighters for Peace in Afghanistan) – as its local branch and awarded its leader Zhan Pacha Shinwari with a seat on Jombesh’s political committee. Shinwari was expelled again in 2013 (source: Aina TV, 16 June 2005).

(6) After 1997, Malek (who does not use the takhallos Pahlawan anymore) fell out with the Taleban again and fled to the US. The Taleban were so upset about his ‘treason’ that, when the US demanded the extradition of Osama ben Laden after the October 2000 terrorist attack against a US navy vessel in the Gulf of Yemen, they asked for Malek in exchange.

Malek’s Hezb-e Azadi (Freedom Party) was registered in 2004, but disappeared after the Ministry of Justice’s 2010 re-registration drive. See also this non-AAN report by the author, pp 29/30. Initially the Freedom Party received protection from Dostum’s main northern rival Atta, from Jamiat-e Islami. Later, it was allied with then president Hamed Karzai but, in 2014, Malek supported Abdullah in the election. He currently serves as an adviser to Abdullah.

(7) Another case of violence against a Jombesh dissident was reported by the New York Times in June 2006.

(8) Another leading Turkmen departing Jombesh was Ismail Munshi, from Aqcha in Jowzjan. Munshi was a former deputy head of Jombesh’s Executive Council, who walked out on Dostum and the party at a 2011 political committee meeting (here, p 9). It is striking that those who fell out with Dostum were often Turkmens. As AAN had already written in 2011, the “Turkmen are the group who have particularly struggled for reforms in the party and have their own leaders among the Jombesh leadership.” (see AAN previous analysis here) Also, on the role of the Turkmens in Jombesh see this report, pp 7-9.)

(9) This was not Dostum’s first stint in Turkey. He lived there between 1998 and 2001, after the Taleban ousted him from Mazar-e Sharif, up to his return in 2001 as an US ally (see this report, p 19).

(10) As the 2004 presidential election showed, when Dostum ran and had exactly 10 per cent of the total vote, he has a potential of around 800,000 votes. This is more than double the margin Ghani was over the 50 per cent threshold in 2014. (The total number of valid ballots cast in 2014 was given as 7,120,585, of which Ghani had 3,935,567 and Abdullah 3,185,018. This represents a difference of around 750,000 votes. See the figures here and here)

(11) The non-family member leaders included Sayyed Nurullah Sadat, who had been acting head since either 2004 or 2005 (unclear) and was official head from 2008 to 2013; in a short intermezzo in 2008/09, he was replaced by Mawlawi Kabir, a Sarepul MP. Sayyed Azizullah Kargar has been acting leader since 2013.

(12) Jombesh’s Aina TV reported a 400-strong gathering of the party’s political committee, its secretariat and provincial leaders, did the election. Enayatullah Babur Farahmand, Dostum’s chief of staff, wrote on his Facebook account that the proposal to elect Bator Dostum had come from Kargar himself who – in old ‘communist’ fashion – had tendered his resignation “on grounds of health problems”, but promised to “stand by the side” of the new acting leader to carry out whichever post was designated to him.

Haji Bator Dostum, in contrast to his father, has a modern education. (According to different information he has either graduated in Turkey or the US.) Earlier this year, he travelled to the US in his father’s place (reportedly the US refused to give General Dostum a visa, still a decision of the Obama administration). A Jombesh spokesman said he held meetings with an adviser of president Donald Trump and a potential American ambassador to Afghanistan. (see media reports here and here).

(13) The Turkish president was already personally interested in Afghanistan during the anti-Soviet jihad in the 1980s. One photo recently re-published in Turkish newspapers (see, for example, here) showed him as a young man admiringly looking up to Hezb-e Islami leader, Gulbuddin Hekmatyar, during an un-dated visit to Turkey; next to him is Tunisia’s Islamist leader, Rachid Ghannouchi. In those years, Erdogan was a leadership member and (from 1984 onwards) deputy leader of the (later banned) main Turkish Islamist party, the Refah Partisi (Welfare Party). Erdogan’s currently ruling AKP party emerged from a split in one of Refah’s Islamist successor parties.

(14) The first two Afghan-Turk schools were actually opened in 1995 and 1996 in Shebarghan and Mazar-e Sharif, which were then still under Dostum’s control, while the Taleban were advancing in the rest of the country. The Taleban closed those schools later. In total, six such schools with a total of 5,000 students were active in the country, in Kabul, Mazar-e Sharif, Herat, Kandahar, Jalalabad and Sherberghan. They were run by a Turkish non-governmental organisation, Afghan Turk CAG Educational NGO (ATCE), which Ankara sees as linked to the religious Gülen movement outlawed by Erdogan after the failed coup in July 2016. The Turkish government has asked for the schools to be transferred to a government-run educational and charitable foundation. Additionally, according to Tolo news, Kabul agreed to expel “some 150 pro-Gülen Turkish teachers” after the handover. Parents of the students have since then protested the move (see here), arguing that, since the schools had been established by private persons (including Afghans and Turks) and registered as private educational institutions, the government could not hand them over.

The number of civilians in the war in Afghanistan remained on “record high levels” in the first six months of 2017, with Kabul remaining the most affected city in the country. These are the two main features that stand out in UNAMA’s just released mid-year report on the protection of civilians in armed conflict. It appears that, in summary, any progress in protecting civilians from some types of violence is undermined by relapses in others. AAN’s Jelena Bjelica and Thomas Ruttig summarise the main findings of the report, including the key conflict trends UNAMA observed in the first half of the year.

The UNAMA statistics of war, January to June 2017

How many killed and injured

1,662 Afghan civilians have been documented as killed and 3,581 more as injured in the first six months of 2017 in UNAMA’s latest mid-year report on protection of civilian causalities in Afghanistan. The report released on Monday 17 July 2017 shows that the total number of civilian casualties decreased slightly, by 24 persons in total (or 0.5 per cent). Compared to the same period in 2016, its authors speak of “the same record high levels.” (The report is available here).

The 11,418 civilians killed or injured in 2016 set a grisly new record – it is the highest number recorded by UNAMA in any year since it started systematic documentation in 2009 (see AAN’s previous report here). The same went for the 5,166 civilian casualties in that year’s first half. The new 2017 figures bring the total number of casualties registered by the UN since 2009 to more than 26,500 dead and just under 49,000 injured. (1)

As before, the authors of the UNAMA report point out that they use “at least three different and independent types of sources [to verify numbers], i.e. victim, witness, medical practitioner, local authorities, confirmation by party to the conflict, community leader or other sources” for each casualty included in the report. Given the stringent verification standard, this also means there may be many more casualties than UNAMA is able to confirm.

The new UNAMA report’s figures also do not include yet the victims of the fighting in Kunduz province in early July, ie after the reporting period (AAN reported on that incident here).

Women and Children

The decrease in women casualties UNAMA documented in 2016 reversed course during the first six months of 2017. A total of 174 adult women were confirmed killed and 462 more injured, an overall rise of 23 per cent over the same period last year. Child casualties increased by a further one per cent, with 436 deaths and 1,141 injuries recorded. Children accounted for 30 per cent of all civilian casualties. (2) Both among women and children, the number of those killed rose more steeply than those injured (by 33 and nine per cent, respectively).

Children, particularly boys, continued to comprise the majority – 81 per cent (81 deaths and 215 injured) – of all civilian casualties from explosive remnants of war. (In total there were 192 such documented incidents with 365 civilian casualties – 93 deaths and 272 injured – an increase of six per cent compared to the same period in 2016.) In addition to those killed, explosive remnants of war caused life-changing injuries to children alongside severe emotional and psychological trauma where children witnessed the deaths of siblings or friends. In the first six months of 2017, UNAMA continued to record cases in which children lost eyesight and/or limbs, particularly legs.

UNAMA also noted that the use of pressure-plate improvised explosive devices (IEDs) and aerial operations in civilian-populated areas contributed substantially to the increases in both women and child casualties.

How they were killed and injured – key trends in conflict

Key trends UNAMA observed include a 15 per cent increase in civilian casualties from IEDs and a ten per cent decrease in the number of causalities caused by ground engagements between anti-government elements and pro-government forces. The report noted:

The indiscriminate and unlawful use of IED tactics (IEDs, suicide and complex attacks) by Anti-Government Elements in civilian-populated areas – particularly suicide bombs and pressure-plate devices caused 2,079 civilian casualties (596 deaths and 1,483 injured), accounting for 40 per cent of all civilian casualties in the first six months of 2017.

Within this figure, suicide and complex attacks caused 1,151 civilian casualties (259 deaths and 892 injured), a 15 per cent increase compared to the first six months of 2016. In the first half of 2017, more civilian deaths and injury from suicide and complex attacks were documented by UNAMA than any previous six-month period since the mission began systematic documentation (in 2009).

The UN mission in Afghanistan underlined that many of those casualties occurred in a single attack in Kabul city on 31 May, when a truck bomb killed at least 92 civilians and injured nearly 500, the deadliest incident documented by UNAMA since 2001. (See also AAN reporting about the 31 May suicide attack here and here.)

The decrease in the number of civilians killed in ground engagements is attributed to a reduction in casualties caused by indirect fire and/or explosive weapons (mostly mortars) by the Afghan National Security Forces (ANSF). Despite the decrease, ground engagements remained the second-leading cause of civilian casualties, with a total of 1,809 documented (434 deaths and 1,375 injured).

Furthermore, UNAMA noted a 43 per cent rise in civilian casualties as a result of aerial operations (95 deaths and 137 injuries). Roughly two-thirds of those were caused by international and one-third by the Afghan air force.

The report also notes that the number of civilian killed and injured by the Afghan Local Police (ALP) more than doubled, to 15 and 49, respectively, despite “increased efforts by the Afghan Local Police Directorate [of the Ministry of Interior (MoI)] in the area of accountability throughout 2016” (see AAN analysis of planned ALP reform here). It noted cases in northern, eastern and southern Afghanistan (in land and personal disputes in Kunduz and Takhar, in ground fighting in Laghman and Nangrahar as well as in retaliation in Zabul provinces). At the same time, the casualty numbers attributed to pro-government armed groups (‘militias’ and ‘uprising forces’) fell by 60 per cent. Most of their 2017 victims, so far, were caused in Faryab province, “as in 2016;” this points to forces loyal to Vice-President Abdul Rashid Dostum (AAN on these operations, here).

Who is responsible? 

All anti-government elements (this includes mainly the Taleban, but also Islamic State Khorasan Province [ISKP], the local franchise of what is known as Daesh among Afghans, and other Afghan and foreign insurgent groups) caused more than two-thirds of all registered civilian casualties in the first six months of 2017. This totals 1,141 people killed and 2,348 injured, a 12 per cent increase in comparison to the first six months of last year. The larger share was attributed to the Taleban (43%), compared to five per cent for ISKP – roughly a ration of 9:1.

In 19 per cent of casualties caused by anti-government elements, UNAMA was not able to identify the perpetrators. This was especially stark in the case with the 31 May 2017 tanker bomb attack in Kabul (see AAN reporting here: https://www.afghanistan-analysts.org/a-black-week-in-kabul-terror-and-protests/). For UNAMA, an attribution requires a public acknowledgement of responsibility, which did not happen thereafter, from any group (see AAN analysis of the case here).

ISKP in particular continued to target Afghanistan’s Shia minority in the first half of 2017. UNAMA attributed four such attacks to ISKP or ISKP-linked groups in three provinces (two in Herat and one each in Kabul and Sar-e-Pul). In January, unidentified armed anti-government elements killed eight coal miners, most of whom where Hazara, in the Tala wa Barfak district of Baghlan and further injured three others. Apart from the above-mentioned Kabul attack, the group claimed three other suicide attacks and one complex attack in the capital that did not have an explicitly sectarian bent.

UNAMA attributed a total of 327 civilian deaths and 618 injuries (18 per cent) to pro-government forces, a 21 per cent decrease compared with the same period last year. The greatest proportion (15 per cent) was caused by the Afghan National Security Forces (ANSF), which includes the army and air force, the Afghan National and the Afghan Local Police. The international military forces were responsible for two per cent and irregular pro-government armed groups for one per cent.

Unattributed crossfire between anti-government elements and pro-government forces caused ten per cent of civilian casualties, and five per cent came from the detonation of unattributed explosive remnants of war. Crossborder shelling by Pakistan Military Forces caused the remaining one per cent.

What are the deadliest places in Afghanistan? 

The highest number of casualties among the civilian population (19 per cent of the total dead and injured) occurred in Kabul province, mainly as a result of suicide and complex attacks. A total of 219 deaths and 829 injured were recorded there (1,048 in total), a 26 per cent increase from last year, almost all of them in the city. (3)

High-profile incidents in the capital overshadowed similarly grave developments in the provinces. In Helmand, the province with the second-highest number of casualties, the number of deaths and injuries combined almost doubled. In another 13 of Afghanistan’s 34 provinces in all seven regions of the country – Kapisa, Daikundi, Laghman, Nuristan, Faryab, Khost, Paktya, Jawzjan, Badghis, Farah, Ghor, Herat and Zabul – civilian casualties also increased, mainly due to increased attacks by anti-government forces. This geographical spread indicates the country-wide character of the war. It , also corresponds with latest UN figures on Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs) that reveal at least 163,000 people were newly displaced by 16 July 2017 in 31 provinces (for more details, see here).

Highest numbers of civilian casualties, after Kabul and Helmand, occurred in Kandahar, Nangarhar, Uruzgan, Faryab, Herat, Laghman, Kunduz and Farah provinces.

UNAMA recommendations and conclusions

The UNAMA report stresses that violence continues to kill and maim civilians in nearly every conceivable setting of day-to-day life. “Civilians lost their lives, limbs, sight or suffered harm while inside of their own homes, travelling on public roads, attending classes, praying in mosques, purchasing food, playing outside, working in offices, labouring in agricultural fields, visiting the bank, and lying in hospital beds,” the report stated. Tadamichi Yamamoto, the UN’s Special Representative for Afghanistan and UNAMA head, used the term “ugly war.” He condemned the use of explosive devices, including improvised ones, as “indiscriminate, disproportionate and illegal” according to international law, and – given the high children casualty figures caused by them – “particularly appalling.”

The harm caused to civilians in such attacks also contradicts repeated orders and instructions from the Taleban leadership to its commanders and fighters, repeated just recently in their leader’s “Instructions to the Mujahedin” (AAN analysis here). UNAMA also demands that these directives be enforced.

UNAMA does not spare the government and its international allies from criticism. It demands the end of mortar and rocket shelling that “have a devastating impact in civilian populated areas.” Furthermore, it urges the government (and indirectly its Western sponsors) to disband “illegal armed groups, militias and ‘national uprising movements’,” recognising their long-term destabilising affect despite any temporary decline in harm done to civilians by some of those groups.

UNAMA also demands improved “operational practice and accountability, as well as to ensur[e] operations are carried out in line with obligations under international humanitarian law and international human rights law” from US troops, the only international air force in Afghanistan still conducting drone and air strikes. Air strikes (counted in the first half of every year) have reached 2011 levels again, the penultimate year of the US troop surge under President Obama. By 2014, civilian casualties caused by all air strikes, Afghan and international, had declined year by year to one-sixth of the 2011 level. That figure has continuously increased under the new mission, Resolute Support.

UNAMA also reiterated its suggestion that the Taleban and the Afghan government engage in “good-faith systematic tracking of civilian harm” caused by their war. In a situation where peace talks seem to be further away then in any years since 2008 when the outgoing Bush administration dropped its resistance to negotiating an end to the conflict, such concrete measures could at least contribute to minimising harm to civilians while helping build confidence between parties to the conflict.

(1) The US-based Brown University’s Cost of War Project, for example, puts the total figure of Afghan civilians who “died violent deaths as a result of the war” since the beginning of the war in 2001 at more than 31,000 by August 2016.

(2) 2016 was the deadliest for children nationwide, according to UNAMA, see AAN previous analysis here.

(3) 2016 was the deadliest year for Kabulis of all age according to UNAMA, see AAN previous analysis here.

Taleban leader Hebatullah Akhundzada has published a book which provides fresh clues about his current concerns and interests. The treatise is largely a collection of quotes from Islamic literature, mostly prophetic sayings, on various aspects of jihad. It contains little of the author’s personal opinions and interpretations. Yet, the choice of themes and sources, the limited personal comments, final conclusions and the obvious decision to avoid certain subjects offer telling hints into the Taleban leader’s mind. Borhan Osman has read the book and shares his impressions about it in five questions and answers.

1 – What are the general contents of the book?

The Taleban published in May 2017 new guidance on how to conduct jihad. The book titled Mujahedino ta de Amir ul-Mumenin Larshowene (Instructions to the Mujahedin from the Commander of the Faithful) already bears a reference to the movement’s new leader, Hebatullah Akhundzada. The flyleaf describes him as “dictating” the book. Taleban sources aware of the production process told AAN it originated as a combination of lectures Hebatullah delivered in recent years on the “etiquette of jihad” and fresh writing on that topic. The apparent aim, as understood from the book, is to instil an ethos of obedience and discipline into the Taleban fighters by invoking the moral authority of religion of their leader.

The cover of Taleban leader Hebatullah Akhundzada’s “instructions to the mujahedin”

The preface (apparently written and published by the Taleban’s Cultural Commission) is more specific about the book’s intended goal. It says the book was designed to remind the movement’s members that “jihad is not an undefined practice or a freewheeling fight”, but is regulated by clear rules of behaviour based on religious law. It adds that the amir wanted to instruct his subordinates about how to make their jihad Sharia-compliant and to protect it from deviances as well as from “extremism and negligence [of doctrine]” (ifrat and tafrit).

The 122-page booklet includes ten major topics. They are not organised in a neat chapter-based style, but topics overlap between the headings and subheadings, resulting in a somewhat incoherent structure. Stylistically, it is more a collection of speeches and sayings. It resembles a treatise by medieval Muslim authors who recorded the utterances or sayings of the Prophet Muhammad and of prominent religious scholars who debate doctrine and orthodoxy, without adding their personal own interpretation.

The majority of the book consists of Arabic texts and their translations, from the Quran, Sunnah, quotes from prominent clerics, the Prophet Muhammad’s biography and some works of poetry. The author himself makes few personal comments. He even often shies away from rephrasing the religious texts he cites to justify his own instructions on their basis. Where he puts any personal touch to the cited material, he does it briefly, usually limiting himself to a few sentences, normally at the end of a chapter. The scarcity of the author’s own comments leaves the reader with little room to identify his personal ideas.

In contrast, it leaves room for a lot of ambiguity, particularly when sensitive political matters are discussed. For example, the author refers to the concepts of emirate and caliphate a few times in the text, but he never spells out how he defines or distinguishes one from the other. They are sometimes mentioned interchangeably as if they meant the same thing to him. The parts referring to the caliphate alongside and, without distinguishing, the emirate are possibly pointed at those sympathisers who feel attracted to the ideology of the Islamic State (whose followers accuse the Taleban of abandoning the greater ideal of establishing a caliphate).

2 – How did the book come to light?

Taleban sources told AAN before the book was formally released that Hebatullah was working on a manual for Taleban fighters. They said it was meant to complement the layha, a guidebook that codifies the Taleban’s conduct on the battlefield, last updated and published in 2010 (AAN analysis here).

According to these sources, the Rahbari Shura, the Leadership Council, (or some members of it) discussed the topic of fighter conduct during jihad in March 2017. Hebatullah took it upon himself to prepare the text, which then underwent a three-stage review. The draft was first reviewed by several members of the Rahbari Shura for its ‘editorial’ compatibility with the movement’s overall policies and approaches. After endorsement from the key shura members, it was reviewed again by the movement’s highest jurisprudent authority, Sheikh Abdul Hakim Ishaqzai, who is head of the Taleban courts and a member of the shura. He read it for the sake of its religious validity of the narrations and arguments. Then, the cultural commission edited it for language and fluency.

The first publishing run carried 5,000 copies. It is meant for free distribution among the Taleban and its sympathisers. AAN has seen copies that have reached Taleban-controlled areas in parts of southern Afghanistan by mid-June. The Taleban’s Cultural Commission members told AAN they would print more copies soon since the first edition was on verge of running out. They said their aim is for the book to reach all Taleban and that one copy is retained by each delgey, the basic fighting unit consisting of approximately 25 fighters). The book’s digital version has also been posted online on official Taleban websites and distributed on instant messaging services and social media channels

3 – What is the book about?

Hebatullah’s treatise is not an update to the lahya, but can be seen as a complement to the rulebook, serving as a broader theoretical and theological framework for it. Considerable time has passed since the lahya was issued, so it can also be seen as an attempt to refresh and reinforce the battle code. The difference with the layha, according to Taleban sources, is that it is considered legally binding and breaching it results in disciplinary action, whereas the book as a moral instruction is non-binding and therefore does not prescribe disciplinary actions for noncompliance.

Below are some of the key recurrent themes in the book:

Call for piety: This appears frequently in the book, in different chapters. Piety (taqwa) and purity of intention (ikhlas) are emphasised upon as being keys to the success of armed jihad and instrumental in making one’s struggle lead to eternal salvation. Such calls specifically highlight the importance of freeing one’s mind from any kind of worldly rewards and temptations. “The only jihad acceptable to God is one which is undertaken solely for the sake of pleasing Him …and is fully based on purity of intention” the book asserts. It further says that having anything other than God’s pleasing in mind “invalidates a man’s jihad”.

Obedience and internal discipline: Topics around this subject revolve around keeping the organisation cohesive so it runs smoothly. This constitutes a substantial part of the book. Specific topics include prohibition of mishandling and abusing taxes collected from people in the form of zakat or ushr (types of religiously obligatory alms) and ghanimah (property seized from the enemy as war bounty). It warns that misusing these resources “amounts to treason of the cause of jihad and can bring torment (azab) on the culprits”.

Another point emphatically deplored is personal ambition and the desire to raise one’s earthly or material status. The book says any expectation and feeling of entitlement for a position (danda or wazifa) in the Taleban is a sin (gunah). It further adds that the pursuit of authority by someone shows such a person is overwhelmed by egoistic temptations: “That someone asks openly for a job, it shows that is his egoistic desire [stemming from] his love of wealth, authority and status or that he would want to avenge on his opponents by exploiting his authority.” It is particularly problematic if fighters condition their obedience to their seniors in return for status, the book adds.

Obedience to the amirs, the commanders and those higher in hierarchy is also repeatedly emphasised throughout the book. It warns that there is no jihad without obedience to the amir and the rules he has set: “[From the Quranic verses and prophetic sayings], it became clear that it is obligatory on Muslims to respect their supreme amir or caliph. Besides this, it is also obligatory to respect and obey commanders of lower ranks.” The author asserts that not only obedience is required in action, but that the Taleban also need to keep their hearts clean of any misgiving about their seniors, which it says is a sin: “The common people, particularly mujahidin, need to have good faith in their amir and other responsible leaders and not to interpret their actions wrongfully, but instead interpret them in good faith as far as possible, as Allah says in this verse…”

External discipline: This includes instructions on behaving well with ‘others’ and making the movement look attractive to the public. Specific messages in this category include instructions to treat prisoners well as well as common people. It asks the Taleban fighters not to rush in punishing prisoners: “Judges are agents of the imam (amir). Whenever mujahidin detain prisoners from the ranks of the enemy, they should not punish them as they wish without a verdict of the judge. In sum, the mujahidin have to treat prisoners in a better manner. They should not be tortured, nor beaten, nor agonised by hunger or thirst and nor tormented by putting them to sun or cold weather.” Similarly, the book demands the Taleban to treat the general population kindly and to be gentle to them: to win their minds by delivering and spreading justice. It specifically asks Taleban judges to prioritise forgiveness over punishment.

Tactical savviness: A small part of the book is dedicated to instructions on creativity in military and strategic affairs. It asks the Taleban to adopt wiser tactics while in the battlefield: “keep your strategies and tactics secret… keep the whereabouts of your leaders secret …and build proper coordination among yourselves.” It also asks the fighters to infiltrate ranks of their enemy.

4 – What does it say about Hebatullah and his concerns, the Taleban and their evolution?

From the gist of the volume, Hebatullah is trying hard to persuade his fighters to listen to him (and to gain the ears of those who do not), trust the new leadership, follow the chain of command and take the layha’s stipulations about avoiding harm to the civilian population seriously. Such instructions are not surprising to come from Hebatullah; he has been known as a strict disciplinarian throughout his career in the Taleban, as explained in an earlier AAN dispatch. Heavily loaded with texts from Islamic scriptures and tradition, the book is also an attempt at injecting spirituality into a Taleban which are increasingly attracted to mundane temptations, such as wealth and power. As the Taleban movement grows, the main concern of its leaders, as observed by AAN, is lack of obedience and extreme behaviour. Worldly pursuits such as fame and power threaten the cohesion of the Taleban movement and therefore its effectiveness. To reverse, or even just decelerate the movement’s descent into worldliness, the Taleban leader has come up with strong words from the Islamic tradition on the value of piety and the rules for the validity of armed jihad.

Although Hebatullah withholds his personal opinions and comments in the text, there are still a number of obvious conclusions about his main concerns as leader of the Taleban. Some topics are presented in more expansive and emphatic ways than others, indicating his priorities at the time of publication. Almost half the book is dedicated to purifying one’s intentions, reflecting his concern about many Taleban members deviating from the long-upheld principles of selflessness and absolute obedience to the amir (The concept of amir primarily applies to the overall leader, Hebatullah in this case, but it is also used and refers more broadly to any more senior figure).

The Taleban have historically presented themselves as ascetics, who were not particularly interested in political or military positions; the leader (and the commanders) were obeyed unquestionably. This is no longer the case. Members compete for fame and power, sometimes violently. The past three years following the revelation of the death of Mullah Omar have seen open rifts within the movement (earlier AAN analysis here). Some of the disgruntled leaders were brought back into fold only through promises of elevated ranks, and not all such promises were kept.

The same is true for concerns about the wider misuse of funds raised by local commanders as well as bounty seized during operations that is not sent in its entirety to the relevant authorities, the provincial heads of the financial commission. This has become a widespread phenomenon in the ranks of the Taleban. A portion of it regularly ends up in the pockets of fighters and commanders of the units at the ground level. The amir has to preach against it: “the wealth you get from people or the enemy is a piece of hellfire if not handed over to the higher authority.”

Although it is not explicitly spelled out in the book, it is obvious that Hebatullah sees such deviation as an existential threat to the cohesiveness of the movement. The two subjects – mistrust and a weakening of command and control – remain a recurrent theme throughout the book. The Taleban leader’s solution for this internal feuding is to appeal to the power of religion: he writes that it is “a sin” (gunah) not to trust the amir; it is “unlawful” (na-rawa) to expect certain positions in return for allegiance; and noncompliance with amir’s instructions is tantamount to the disobedience (na-faramani) of the Prophet and God. The book cites traditional ‘ulama regarding the importance of obedience saying: “One cannot stop obeying his amir …even if he does not observe justice in distribution of benefits and privileges to his subordinates.” It goes on to state: “[As derived from the hadith,] it is compulsory upon mujahidin to obey their amir even if he comes from inferior descent (dani yu-nasab).”

In the chapter on the value and objectives of jihad, one comment is particularly noteworthy for its far-reaching political consequences. It is the closing note of one chapter and serves as a conclusion to it; it also makes the longest comment by Hebatullah in the entire treatise. It is about the continuity of jihad. It states:

[I]t is wrong if the ongoing jihad launched in the country against the infidels and their puppets is made dependent only on the departure of the infidels; and [it is wrong] if someone says that jihad should stop immediately after the departure of the infidels as the corruption that originated from and is spread by them would continue. [It is wrong because] jihad will thus become aimless. [By using this argument,] the invaders want exactly to render Afghans’ efforts in the way of jihad fruitless. It is taken for granted that unless all the [manifestations of] their fasad (corruption) are eliminated, they will certainly come back to our land whenever they find the circumstances suitable. The mujahedin should not be fooled by such words and should continue their holy jihad as long as it takes to eradicate fasad (corruption) and until only Allah’s religion rules the land and thus the mujahedin’s countless sacrifices do not go in vain.

This reads like a response to frequently raised opinions by Afghans, including among those who have traditionally been supportive of the Taleban, and in the media questioning the legitimacy of any ‘jihad’ after a withdrawal of all foreign troops, with the result that Afghan Muslims were the only remaining victims of the war. It also has been the main argument used by Gulbuddin Hekmatyar to justify his Hezb-e islami’s ceasefire and the subsequent peace deal with the Afghan government (AAN analysis here) which, in turn, has been offered to (and rejected by) the Taleban as a blueprint for them joining the system.

However, given the context of the comment (which discusses the importance of jihad to incite his men continue fighting and not think of the mere absence of foreign troops from the battlefield as the ultimate outcome of jihad), it cannot be interpreted to mean Hebatullah is rejecting any idea of a political settlement. He seems to be mainly responding to the doubts in minds of common Afghans about why the Taleban did not stop fighting even after the withdrawal of most foreign troops. His argument is telling: the fasad (corruption) – which in the context apparently means the perceived un-Islamic nature of the polity – that was imposed by the foreign troops is still there; unless an Islamic system is restored the Taleban’s jihad will not cease. Can that be restored through a military conquest or negotiations is not given. The audience for this note are therefore apparently common Afghans.

Also Hebatullah’s choice of literature for citation can offer hints about the sources of his inspirational reading, and possibly about the scope of his access to the Islamic literature. Sunnah is the most widely used source suggesting his mastery of hadith, reflecting his scholarly title of sheikh ul-hadith (the master of hadith). The book is also dotted with verses from the Qurān followed by commentary by known traditional exegetes, narrations by the prophet’s companions, interpretations of Hanafi ulama and comments by known Sufi authors.

Apart from the most respected, classical Sunni exegetes, such as Tabari and Ibn Abbas, he frequently uses two contemporary sources: exegesis by a modern Syrian scholar, Wahba az-Zuhayli, who is possibly the most prolific and best known living jurist with Hanafi inclinations (the Hanafi school being the prevalent one among Afghans, including the Taleban), and a Muslim Brotherhood-affiliated Libyan author, Ali as-Salabi, who is cited as the main source for explaining historical events, for example political events during the early Islamic periods following the death of Prophet Muhammad. This possibly shows the limited scope of his access to modern Islamic literature. In some contrast, frequent citations from known Sufi masters and authors of the early generations such as Al-Fuḍayl ibn ‘Iyāḍ, Dhul-Nun al-Misri, Hasan al-Basri, Sahl at-Tustari and Abu Hamid al-Ghazali that constitute a significant part of the discussions on purity of intention and piety make parts of the text look like a Sufi manual for the training of ego.

The Sufi-oriented nature of parts of the text is not surprising given the Taleban’s background in the religious heritage of southern Afghanistan combined with the Deobandi tradition, both of which have a strong element of Sufism. (See earlier AAN analysis pointing this out, here, here and this recent AAN paper.) Hebatullah’s extensive usage of the Sufi references reinforces the notion that the Taleban, particularly its leadership, preserve deep Sufi links ingrained in the culture of the original taleban, the pupils of madrasas and mosques. Indeed, all the highest ranking ulama in the current Taleban structure hold a visible affinity with Sufi rites and beliefs. All this contradicts many uninformed comments describing the Taleban as ‘Wahhabi’ or ‘Salafi’, who puts Sufis on the list of their primary enemies.

5 – Why has the new Taleban leader resorted to theological instructions?

Islamic scholarship is possibly Hebatullah’s most valuable asset. What makes him distinct from previous Taleban leaders is his grounding in the knowledge of Islamic tradition, mainly Ahadith (plural of Hadith), or prophetic sayings. He is widely referred to, before his leadership and after, as sheikh al-hadith, a title which is bestowed upon Islamic scholars who have established a proven mastery in Hadithic sciences.

With this treatise, Hebatullah is invoking his religious credentials as a widely respected religious scholar among the Taleban. He was a primary religious advisor to Mullah Omar, which both bolsters his own authority and the respect for the new leadership and helps his drive to reinforce discipline (“obedience”). The layha issued by Taleban under Mullah Omar was mostly a list of ‘dos’ and ‘don’ts’, a straightforward call for discipline. It did not need many theoretical elaborations; the mere fact that it was endorsed by Mullah Omar was enough to ensure compliance. The Quranic verses, Prophetic sayings and classical sources invoked in this treatise are meant to serve as stark reminders of the lahya’s religious underpinnings in an increasingly disorganized and uncertain context since Mullah Omar’s death that could not be hidden any longer. The emergence of the Islamic State Khorasan Province (ISKP), too, as a potential catch basin for malcontents was undoubtedly another threat to the future and cohesion of the Taleban movement.

Using those religious resource so abundantly is not only a comfortable task for Hebatullah given his grounding in Islamic tradition, but his religious scholarship is also his most effective tool for persuading his men to follow orders. While he lacks the charisma of Mullah Omar and the decisiveness and savvy leadership qualities of Akhtar Mansur, this is the area where he stands out. His religious rank is higher than that of his two predecessors, including Mullah Omar. The scholarly Hebatullah might be humble in comparison with Omar and Mansur, but he tries to establish himself as possibly the toughest leader on matters of internal discipline. It remains to be seen, however, how deeply his moralistic treatise will influence the behaviour of his men in reality. The result will provide valuable insight into how much he has consolidated his lead over the movement and its most ambitious commanders.

Afghanistan’s unflattering label – the world’s leading producer of opium and its derivatives, morphine and heroin – has proved hard to remove. Over the last ten years, opium cultivation has increased steadily reaching unprecedented highs, whilst eradication levels have been decreasing and the country has slowly slid into more severe poverty. To see where Afghanistan stands now, AAN’s Jelena Bjelica has scrutinised the latest socio-economic study on Afghan opiates by UNDOC and discusses the main facts that portray the country’s opium economy, identifying those who profit, how insecurity and cultivation are linked, and how gender relates to opium cultivation.

1. What is the size of the Afghan opium-driven economy?

According to UNODC estimates, Afghanistan annually produced between 3,300 and 7,400 metric tons (mt) of raw opium in the period 2006–16. The annual fluctuation in production is related to cultivation levels and the quality of opium gum, ie the opium yield per hectare, which varies from year to year (see graph on p34 in this report for a full overview of production levels in the period 1994–2016). This annual production represents around 90 percent of the world’s annual illicit opiate needs. (1)

After a brief decrease in 2015 (a cultivation level that was still among the top five years since 2005; see also this 2015 AAN analysis), illicit production boomed again in 2016. According to UNODC’s 2016 Opium Survey, the overall area used to farm opium poppy increased by ten percent, from 183,000 hectares in 2015 to 201,000 hectares in 2016. Although last year’s cultivation did not reach the record high of 2014 (when an estimated 224,000 hectares were planted with opium poppy), 2016 cultivation levels were among the three highest recorded (after 2014 and, 2009 at 209,000 hectares).

The gross value of Afghanistan’s opiate economy in 2016 was estimated at slightly over three billion US dollars. (This economy covers the cultivation, production and trafficking to the borders. It includes the total value of the domestic opiate market, as well as the value of opiate exports, before they leave the country.) This gross value was equivalent to around 16 percent of Gross Domestic Product (GDP) which the Central Statistics Organization (CSO) of the Afghan government (quoted by UNODC here,) estimated at 18.54 billion USD for 2015/16. (The World Bank estimate, which covers the western calendar year, was valued at 19.2 billion for 2015.)

According to the UNODC report, the value of the Afghan opiate economy in 2016 was almost double that of 2015. This exceeded the value of the total licit exports of Afghan goods and services, which constituted 7.3 percent of GDP in 2015. The drug-driven illicit agricultural economy also was worth more than two-thirds of the entire agricultural sector of the country.

UNODC attributed this sharp increase in relative value of the opiate economy to two main factors: an increase in opium production by 43 percent in 2016, and an increase in heroin prices across the borders of Afghanistan. This meant that, even though the overall area used for opium cultivation only increased by ten percent, the gross value of the economy rose by much more.

In the past, the relative economic importance of opiates has been even higher. As UNODC points out, from 2003 to 2007, the potential gross value of the opiate economy was equivalent to almost half of Afghanistan’s total licit GDP—even though its value in absolute figures was lower. UNODC explains the obvious: this decrease in value relative to the GDP has been “mainly due to the increase in GDP and not to a significant reduction in the production or cultivation of opium.” It should also be remembered that the sharp increase in value of the Afghan opiate economy in the early 2000s was directly related to the Taleban poppy cultivation ban in the summer of 2000. This reduced the 2001 harvest to one-tenth of earlier levels, which led to a ten-fold hike in prices (from 35 USD to 350-400 USD per kilogram of opium). In 2002, the potential gross value of the Afghan opiate economy was estimated at 1.2 billion USD; a fourfold increase over that of the 1990s (see this 2002 UNODC socio-economic study).

Since 2002, the gross value of opiate economy has fluctuated between 1.4-3 billion USD per year (see the graph on p14 in this UNODC report). The annual gross value of the opiate economy has generally averaged around two billion USD. The relatively stable annual gains from the opium industry over the last 15 years show that this is an established economy.

2. How much is earned by the farmers?

Although the gross value of the opiate economy is staggering, poverty in Afghanistan has continued to increase (see, for instance, the World Bank’s latest Poverty Status Update). The most recent increases in poverty are largely due to the decline in aid and economic growth, as well as the escalation of conflict.

A large portion of the rural population is involved in opium poppy cultivation. In the 2016 survey, UNODC found that opium poppy was cultivated in about one in every three villages; although the geographical spread varied widely. In the Eastern region (Kapisa, Kunar, Laghman, Nangrahar, Nuristan), opium poppy cultivation was reported in every second village, while in Helmand province this rate was as high as 90 percent and accounted for almost 20 percent of the total area of agricultural land.

The farm-gate value of opium in 2016 (ie the potential gross amount earned by poppy farmers that year) – the first link in the value chain of cultivation and production – was an estimated 898 million USD. This records an increase of 57 percent compared with 2015. The value represented five percent of Afghanistan’s total GDP, more than one fifth of the entire agricultural sector, and a bit less than a third of the overall opiates economy (2).

The UNODC survey (3), found that “opium poppy farmers reported a higher cash income than other types of farmers.” On average, opium income accounted for almost 60 percent of the households’ annual income in the opium-growing villages. Infrequently, opium poppy farmers earned almost 40 percent of their income from opium; a level comparable to their earnings from other licit crops.

The income from opium was mostly used to cover basic needs, such as food or medical expenses. Some farmers also “invested in education, property and improving farming tools.” Only a few farmers said they used their income to invest in alternatives to poppy, the study found.

Small local businesses, such as bakers, butchers and others, tend to profit indirectly from the income generated by opium poppy cultivation given that it provided farmers with increased purchasing power. Nevertheless, UNODC pointed out that “due to its illegal nature, the extent to which the income generated from opium and its products feeds into licit GDP growth is unknown.”

In addition to farmers, opium poppy harvesting (lancing) provides employment opportunities for seasonal workers, who are among the most vulnerable groups facing poverty and food insecurity. In 2016, opium poppy cultivation provided an estimated 235,100 full days of labour jobs. Wages varied depending on supply and demand. According to this Tolo story, during the 2017 harvest in the government-controlled district of Gereshk, in Helmand, an adult labourer could earn as much as 20,000 Afghani, or around 300 USD, for 15 days of lancing. Daily wages for lancing in 2016 (8.4 USD) were more than twice as much as for other non-poppy farm labour (4 USD). Thus, the combined wages for poppy labour in 2016 amounted to an estimated 396 million USD, or 44 percent of the farm-gate value of opium.

The total profit for farmers depends on the costs, which include the daily wages for labourers and insurgency taxation (see also question 4.)

3. How much do traffickers earn?

After opium leaves the farm, domestic traffickers and manufacturers – the next stage in the opiate value chain – earned almost two billion USD in 2016. This amount is shared among a lesser number of people when compared with that earned at the farm-gate level. Their profits came through the processing of opium into morphine and/or heroin, and through the trafficking of processed and unprocessed opiates to the borders. (4)

These profits hardly feed into the licit economy and, if they do, they do so to a much lesser extent than the earnings of the farmers and day labourers. “Afghan opium traffickers and processors seem to be more likely to save a substantial proportion of their revenue and spend more on imports – thus using their proceeds in a way which does not create benefits for the licit Afghan economy,” UNODC found. The capital flight of opium money earned by Afghan traffickers includes buying property in other countries.

It is commonly assumed that the onward trafficking of opium derivatives beyond Afghanistan’s borders to end-consumer markets is organised by non-Afghans. If so, then these value added proceeds also are lost to Afghanistan’s economy.

4. How much do insurgents profit from the opium-driven economy?

The UNODC study estimated that in 2016 insurgents earned around 160 million USD from taxing opium cultivation, production and trafficking (5). This equates to some 5.4 percent of the total gross value of the Afghan opiate economy (3.02 billion USD in 2016). It included an estimated 48.7 million USD collected from farmers in taxation. In the Western region – Badghis, Farah, Ghor, Herat, Nimroz – as much as 70 percent of village headmen from opium poppy cultivating villages reported paying taxes on their opium sales to “insurgency groups”. In the northern region – Baghlan, Balkh, Bamyan, Faryab, Jawzjan, Sar-e Pul, Samangan – this was around 40 percent. Overall, UNODC concluded that insurgents taxed an estimated 56 percent of the opium harvest. In addition, over 100 million USD were collected from taxing manufacturing and trafficking.

The UNODC estimates roughly match figures provided in the 2016 UN Security Council Sanctions Committee report, which estimated the overall annual income of the Taleban (drugs and other sources) in 2016 at around 400 million USD; half of which, it said, was likely to have been derived from the illicit narcotics economy.

5. What linkages are there between gender and opium cultivation?

An earlier UN study in 2000 found that in some regions of Afghanistan women played a fundamental role in the cultivation of opium poppy (Strategic Study #6: The Role of Women in Opium Poppy Cultivation in Afghanistan: Final Report June 2000, United Nations Drugs Control Programme – UNDCP; not available online). In the northern and eastern regions of Afghanistan, respondents told UNDCP (the ‘predecessor’ of UNODC) that they were involved in several stages of the process, including planting, weeding, thinning, lancing and collecting opium, clearing the fields, breaking the capsules and removing the seeds, cleaning the seeds, processing of by-products, such as oil and soap, and preparation of food for hired labourers. “In both regions, there was a general consensus that women provided the bulk of the labour at each stage of opium poppy cultivation, except its harvest,” the report found.

Nevertheless, as in the early 2000s, women today have limited decision-making power over household cropping patterns. The recent UNODC socio-economic study showed that in about two-thirds of all households, women reported that either their husband or a collective of men in the household decided whether opium poppy was cultivated that year, or not. In a smaller proportion of households women did have some say: “In 17 to 21 percent of households, women reported to take the decision together with their husband, in 7 percent it was a collective decision among all men and women, and in 8 to 10 percent of all households the woman was the sole decision maker (most of these women were either widowed or divorced).”

According to UNODC, there was also a relationship between the absence of girls’ and boys’ schools and the presence of opium poppy cultivation in an area. In 66 percent of the poppy-free villages, the headmen reported that there was a girls’ school. Whereas, the same was reported for only 30 percent of villages where poppy was cultivated. For boys’ schools, there was also a marked difference. 90 percent of all villages without poppy cultivation had a boys’ school, compared to only 63 percent of all villages affected by poppy cultivation. The exact nature of the relationship is unclear, but it is likely that the circumstances that allow poppy cultivation are also exactly the same as those that hamper education: greater insecurity, limited rule of law and limited or ineffective government presence.

6. What is the real cost of the opium-driven economy?

As alluded to above, the 2016 UNODC survey found a correlation between poppy cultivation, security, access to health care and schools and government presence. When comparing villages affected by opium poppy cultivation with other villages, “it is apparent that opium poppy cultivation is strongly linked to more limited access to infrastructure and services which are essential to the operation of a society, as well as to more broadly defined development indicators, such as security and government control,” UNODC reported. (See also this AAN case study on Badghis province explaining how neglect and remoteness bred insurgency and a poppy boom .)

Opium cultivation, moreover, creates challenges for maintaining agricultural productivity, among other reasons, due to careless land management. For example, unsustainable opium poppy cultivation may have exacerbated environmental issues, such as water scarcity in heavily affected areas (for example, in Helmand). At the same time, water scarcity and climate change may drive more farmers to choose this lucrative cash crop as a livelihood strategy, as it still requires less water to grow than wheat, fruit and vegetables, as highlighted in this report.

Consumption of opiates comes at enormous human cost, not only for the individual drug users, but also their families and, therefore, for society in general. According to the 2015 Afghanistan National Drug Use Survey, between 2.5 and 2.9 million Afghans are believed to use drugs and some 1.5 million Afghans are believed to be regular drug users (see also this AAN analysis).

Millions of Afghans have become dependent on illicit incomes from opiates, as well as its auxiliary products and benefits, for their economic and social survival. According to the Afghan government, an estimated three million Afghans are directly or indirectly connected to the narcotics economy (see the UN Security Council Sanctions Committee 2016 report here). It is evident that the income from opium serves as both a coping mechanism for an increasingly impoverished society, as well as a source of wealth for those who have developed networks of influence and control. While farmers and wage labourers return most of their earnings into the licit economy, the traffickers who earn far more from the illicit proceeds are most likely to take this capital out of the country.

(1) Illicit opiate needs are measured by the global heroin, opium and morphine prevalence rates; the global number of opiate users was estimated as being more than 15 million by UNODC. The opium users, around a quarter of the total number of users, consumed some 1,100 mt of opium in raw form. The rest used heroin and consumed approximately 340 mt of pure heroin per year. This opiate demand, in opium equivalents, was estimated to represent 3,700 mt of opium consumed worldwide, annually. Afghanistan produces around 90% of this need. A word of caution, however, as not everything produced in Afghanistan also leaves the country as there are significant stockpiles.

(2) Farmer used to earn considerably less before the hike in opium prices in 2001. A 2002 UNODC study on the Afghan opium economy pointed out that the average annual gross income of farmers in the period 1994-1999 was close to 1,500 USD per hectare. “It fell to about 1,100 USD in 2000 (and thus close to the revenue from cultivation of legal crops of around 900 USD per hectare).” The average annual income for farmers rose to about 16,000 USD per hectare in 2002 (because of higher prices of opium and as a result of the Taleban ban). The average size of a plot in the opium growing areas at the time was just less than one-third of a hectare generating an annual income of about 4,000 USD for a farmer each harvest, and about 500 USD for a labourer. The farm-gate value between 1994 and 2000 was estimated at about 150 million USD a year.

(3) The UNODC survey was based on 3,538 interviews conducted in March/April 2016. The interviews included 2,121 farmers and 1,417 village headmen in 1,471 villages, both opium growing and non-growing. (For UNODC’s methodology for the village survey see pp81–8 of the report.

(4) Once opiates leave the country, however, their value increases multi-fold as illustrated by an earlier UNODC study:

The progression from profit to greed is usually a function of the appetite for risk-taking. In the late 1990s, profit margins were relatively small in the local opium trade. They increased substantially (up to tenfold) once the borders with neighbouring countries were crossed. They could become considerable (up to 100-fold) when the heroin was trafficked internationally. For example, one gram of heroin in 2002, at about 60% purity, cost $2-$3 in Afghanistan, and approximately $70, at 20% purity, on the street in Western Europe.

In a 2015 study on Afghan opiates trafficked to Western Europe, UNODC estimated the total value of illicit heroin and opium trafficked from Afghanistan, only via the Balkan route, amounted to some 28 billion USD every year. Whereas, as said earlier, the total annual value of the Afghan opiate economy fluctuates between 1.5 and 3 billion USD.

(5) This is how UNODC explains its methodology (pp 87-8 of its report):

To estimate the share of the farm-gate value that is paid in form of taxes to insurgency/others, two key assumptions are made. First, the share of opium poppy villages for which a tax on opium poppy was reported in a region, corresponds to the share of opium production that is taxed. Second, taxes are collected from the farm-gate price of opium as reported in the price monitoring system (which is used as well for calculating the farm-gate value of opium).

With these two assumptions, the share of opium production subject to taxes and, subsequently, the amount of money funding insurgency/others can be calculated. The share of the farm-gate value calculated as tax in a region is the product of the percentage of opium-poppy villages that reported taxes multiplied by the average percentage collected from earnings. To provide an example, in the Eastern region 40 percent of village headmen reported that taxes are paid, and the average amount collected was 6 percent. Thus, 2.5 percent of the farm-gate value funds non-state authorities. (…)

Under the assumption that the results from the village survey can be transferred to the whole value chain of opiate production in Afghanistan, 5.4 percent of the value of the opiate economy, which amounts to US$ 3.02 billion in 2016, were earned by insurgency and other groupings in 2016, yielding US$ 164 million of taxes alone (including the income from the farm-gate value). 

To answer this question with greater precision, more information on the control of processing and trafficking of opiates, distribution practices and taxes collected from these activities would be needed.

In early July 2017, the Taleban carried out several simultaneous attacks against the Afghan security forces in Kunduz province, in an attempt to, once again, inch closer to the provincial centre. The attacks were less coordinated and sustained than they had been in the past years (including in 2015 when Kunduz fell and in 2016 when it almost did) and, for now, the fighters have been repelled. AAN’s Obaid Ali (with input from Thomas Ruttig) explains how a series of air strikes and night raids that killed several key commanders has affected the Taleban’s command structure and their ability to threaten Afghan National Security Forces (ANSF) positions. The reach and strength of the Afghan security forces, however, also remain limited and dependent on US-supported air strikes.

Taleban attempts to regain territory so far largely repelled

In the beginning of July 2017, the Taleban again launched several attacks against Afghan government positions in Kunduz province, focusing on Dasht-e Archi district and several areas around the provincial centre.  According to the UN around 3500 people were displaced by the fighting. The attacks left Kunduz residents worried that the Taleban were encroaching on the city again.

The first attack took place in the early morning of 1 July 2017, when the Taleban conducted a large-scale offensive against Dasht-e Archi from three different directions – north, south and east – in an attempt to overrun its district centre. The clashes continued for several hours until the Afghan air force was called to join the battle. According to Nasruddin Sahdi, the district governor, the Afghan National Army, Afghan National Police, Afghan Local Police and Public Protection Force all came together to jointly protect the district. He also told AAN that the air force played a major role in targeting the Taleban from the air and pushing them back.

Archi is considered a hub for the insurgents and was home to the late Taleban shadow governor, Mullah Abdul Salam Baryal. Over the past two years the ANSF have made several attempts to push the Taleban away from the district centre, which has changed hands between ANSF and Taleban several times (for instance, read a short report here).

The second assault, in the early morning of 2 July 2017, was against the security forces in Talawka, an area only four kilometres north of the provincial capital (read short report here). The attack was an attempt to overrun this strategic area that connects the insurgents’ fronts with Gurtepa in the west and Aqtash (which has recently come under Taleban control) in the east, thus providing a staging ground for the Taleban to control parts of the Kunduz-Imam Saheb highway, to the north of Kunduz city.

Talawka had already fallen into Taleban hands in April 2015. In June 2017, the ANSF, along with American forces, conducted a large-scale clearance operation and pushed the militants back. Mahfuzullah Akbari, spokesman for the northeastern 808 Spinzar police zone, told AAN that on 2 July 2016 an Afghan National Army base had been besieged by the Taleban, that reinforcement had been deployed and that they had defeated the insurgents’ attack. According to security officials more than 40 insurgents were killed in the battle, and more than 50 others were wounded. Tariq shah Bahrami, the acting defence minister, said the “enemy,” along with their foreign fighters, had gathered forces from neighbouring provinces to attack the security forces in Talawka. Further, he said, the Taleban faced serious losses: “Key Taleban commander Qari Hassan was killed and a famous Taleban commander in Talawka, Qari Amir, was wounded.” According to him the attack against Talawka was led by a foreign fighter from Tajikistan, Hekmatullah Tajikistani, who was also killed in the area. Locals from Talawka told AAN that on 7 July serious clashes were still ongoing.

On the same day the Talawka attack started, on 2 July, the Taleban also tried to block two highways. From the east a group of fighters in the Charkhab area of Khanabad district targeted several government security check points on the Kunduz-Takhar highway. The clash continued for a several of hours; eventually the Taleban were repelled.

The other attempt took place on the Baghlan-Kunduz highway, in Aliabad district, southeast of Kunduz city (read short report here). The Taleban established mobile check points in Shanbeh Tepa, an area only three kilometres north of Aliabad district centre, and blocked the highway for several days, until the ANSF conducted a counteroffensive and managed to reopen the highway on Friday (7 July). According to local security officials, the Taleban check points were removed and the militants suffered serious losses (23 militants killed and 13 wounded; read media report here). Omerkhel and Madrasa villages of Shanbeh Tepa area of Aliabad district were, and still are, under Taleban control and they frequently set up mobile check points to search vehicles for ANSF service members or to block the highway for ANSF reinforcements.

Looking at these attacks it seems the insurgents are trying to regain control of areas they lost over the past year. In October 2016, after Kunduz city almost fell to them for the second time, US and Afghan forces conducted several counteroffensives against the Taleban to push back the militants. This campaign, that involved night raids, targeted killings of Taleban commanders and airstrikes, resulted in the weakening of the Taleban’s position and the death of several key commanders. The security situation, however, is still vulnerable and areas around the provincial centre continue to be controlled by the Taleban. The insurgents, moreover, seem to have increased their focus on targeted killings of government security forces (see this report here).

Insurgency dynamics

Over the past few months, particularly after the announcement of the Taleban’s spring offensive, the insurgents have faced challenges to expand their territory in Kunduz. The militants conducted several attacks against security forces in Imam Saheb, Qala-ye Zal and Khanabad districts, but these assaults had limited results. The Taleban have, in particular, been hit hard by the night raids and the airstrikes carried out by Afghan and US forces in the province (read reports here,  here and here). In February 2017, a US airstrike targeted and killed Mullah Salam, the then Taleban shadow governor of Kunduz province (read this earlier AAN analysis on Mullah Salam’s background). In May 2017, a US airstrike killed the Taleban’s shadow governor for Qala-ye Zal district, along with seven militants (read short report here). In the same month another Taleban key commander for Dasht-e Archi, Mullah Ismail, was killed in a US airstrike, as was Mawlawi Muhammad Nur (alias Haqqani), reportedly the head of the Taleban military commission for Chahr Dara, who was targeted and killed in a US airstrike in Chahr Dara (read media report here).

The killing of Mullah Salam and other key Taleban commanders negatively affected the insurgency, not only on the battleground but also politically. Apart from being a skillful military commander, Salam was an important political player who managed to handle the Taleban network, as well as relations with other militant groups (including Jundullah and the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan) for the last four years. He led the Taleban forces when they overran Kunduz city for two weeks in 2015 and, again, when they seized parts of the city in 2016 (read our previous analysis here and here).

The appointment of Salam’s successor has created serious tension among the militants in the province. According to a source close to the Taleban, the Taleban in Chahr Dara are pushing for the appointment of Mawlawi Rahmatullah (alias Muhammad), the current acting shadow provincial governor and a Pashtun from the Omarkhel sub-tribe of Chahr Dara district. The ‘Kandahari’ (1) Taleban of Dasht-e Archi oppose Rahmatullah, and have instead endorsed someone from their own ranks. This, local sources said, has disrupted the chain of command among Taleban commanders across the province and is affecting their ability to conduct coordinated attacks against the ANSF.

The Taleban’s recent assaults against Kunduz city and Dasht-e Archi district centre, however, indicate that the insurgents still want to probe and assess the capacity of the ANSF, for instance by the kind of simultaneous attacks witnessed earlier this week. Despite the loss of key commanders, the Taleban still control three newly established districts (Gurtepa, Aqtash and Galbad) and have the capacity to target vulnerable district centres like Dasht-e Archi, Qala-ye Zal, Imam Saheb and Chahr Dara, as well as areas around the provincial centre. Additional Taleban presence in areas around the provincial centre (Zakhel, Kanum, Gurtepa and Omarkhel) and along the highway connecting the provincial centre to Baghlan in the south and Takhar in the east, means that they are still well-placed to try to target the provincial centre and to block reinforcement from both directions.

Despite the challenges the Taleban in Kunduz currently face – the internal divisions and the external targeting through air strikes and night raids – the capacity of the ANSF to protect the province’s vulnerable areas and to ensure the safety of the highway remains limited and dependent on US-supported airstrikes. The province, including its centre, thus remains vulnerable.

(For AAN analysis of the Taleban attacks on Kunduz in 2015 and 2016, see our 2016 dossier “Insurgency and governance in Afghanistan’s northeast.”)

(1) ‘Kandahari’ refers to Pashtuns naqelin, or forced resettlers, who were resettled from the south in the past and now form a distinct local population.

The Afghan Local Police (ALP) emerged out of an American special forces’ project to establish ‘community defence forces’ in 2009 and 2010. Despite being viewed by many as ‘militias in uniform’, the ALP has survived and grown to become a significant part of the Afghan National Security Forces (ANSF), present in all but one of Afghanistan’s provinces. AAN’s Kate Clark outlines its current shape and strength, before looking at current reforms aimed at making the ALP accountable on pay, personnel and equipment. The United States, sole funder of the ALP, has said future support is conditional on having a ‘reformed ALP’.

This dispatch is part of a joint three-year project of AAN, the Global Public Policy institute (GPPi), and the American University of Iraq, Sulaimani (AUIS). The project explores the role and impact of militias, local or regional defence forces or other quasi-state forces in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Syria, including their foreign assistance to such actors. Funding is provided by the Netherlands Research Organisation.

From idea to establishment

The idea of a community defence force first emerged in 2009, as the Taleban insurgency grew in intensity and the ANSF was found wanting. US military, especially special operations forces (SOF), were vocal proponents of the idea that the people had to be ‘empowered’ to defend themselves. As part of the counterinsurgency strategy, they proposed that these local forces would be built from the ground-up by small SOF teams:

… living among the people in rural villages (surrounded by the insurgents and the populace), building relationships and assisting the populace to stand up against insurgents, while re-empowering their traditional local governance structures within the village through the shura to establish ALP to enable a local “security bubble” around the village.(1)

This ‘bottom up’ approach to security was a particularly strong theme in the dominating counter-insurgency philosophy of those years. In the initial model, SOF were heavily involved in the recruitment, training, and direct mentoring of the small, village-level, defense forces that would become the ALP. Then Minister of Interior (now National Security Advisor) Hanif Atmar supported the idea, but President Hamed Karzai was reluctant to authorise the programme. Like many Afghans, he associated such forces with the pro-government militias of the PDPA era and the factionalised civil war of the mid-1990s. He also wanted to keep centralised government control over the security apparatus. Nevertheless, on 16 August 2010, he agreed to the establishment of community defence forces, to be known as the Afghan Local Police, so long as they came under Ministry of Interior (MoI) and Afghan National Police (ANP) control, authorising them with Decree 3196.

In part due to these concerns, the ALP was initially capped at 10,000 forces. But that number was expanded to 30,000 by 2012, because of higher demands on the ANSF, some legitimate community desire for local forces and a fair amount of interest by powerbrokers keen to co-opt the new force. In 2012, the ALP was regularised, with training standardised – from then on, it took place at provincial or regional training centres. The various rules and responsibilities governing the ALP, the MoI and its US backers were laid out in a document, ALP Establishment, Organization and Activities Procedures. This was revised in 2014 and 2015, but remains the key document governing the ALP.

The role, rules and casualties of the Afghan ‘community’ police

Today, the ALP is a significant part of the ANSF, with about 29,000 local policemen present in 199 districts in 31 of Afghanistan’s 34 provinces (20 new districts were added earlier in 2017, achieved through a redistribution of the tashkil, the authorised force). According to the Procedures, ALP units should only be set up in areas threatened by the insurgency, where ‘the community’ wants to defend itself and the ANP and/or Afghan National Army can support the ALP. The community should be involved in introducing ALP candidates. The candidates should also be vetted by the Afghan intelligence agency, the NDS, and MoI Intelligence. As it is a defensive force, ALP checkpoints should be no more than one kilometre away from the village and local policemen should not be deployed away except under the express orders of the Provincial Police Chief (this happened during the defence of Kunduz in 2015, and Lashkargah in 2016, for example). Training is a four-week course with instruction in the use of weapons, checkpoint defence, human rights, avoiding civilian casualties, dealing with detainees and hygiene.

The ALP’s backers have always insisted that the force is important in holding back the Taleban, and many communities have reportedly asked for ALP. The US Special Inspector General for Afghanistan Reconstruction (SIGAR) gives a good description of why, if it works, the ALP should work well.

…[the] key strengths of the ALP include its ability to distinguish local residents from insurgents, a higher level of perceived trustworthiness compared to outside forces, and an intimate knowledge of villages’ vulnerable sites and exit routes. Additionally, a MoI Deputy Minister noted that the effectiveness of the ALP is based, in part, on its ability to garner public support since its personnel are from the immediate area.

However, evidence of ALP being imposed on communities, of abusive behaviour and of the capture of units by strongmen and tanzims (the old armed factions) is evident in much of the research, with political connections between ALP and figures in central government often making control of abusive forces impossible. (See fine-grained analysis of ALP at the district level by AAN (for example on Khas Uruzgan here and here, on Dand-e Shahabuddin in Baghlan on Chahrdara on Khanabad and on Kunduz city; and larger-scale research by Jonathan Goodhand and Aziz Hakimi, Deedee Derksen and Human Rights Watch.) Other studies, including by the International Crisis Group and a US expert group which had top-level access to both the ALP and the US military, have found a more mixed picture. The US expert group found ALP units ranged from “highly effective” – enhancing local security, undermining insurgent influence, and facilitating governance and development – to those “causing more harm than good to the counterinsurgency” – ineffective, predatory, or engaged in collusion with the enemy. (2) It reported the US SOF’s assessment at the time, that one third of ALP units were effective, one third counter-productive and one third somewhere in between. (A working paper by AAN and GPPi reviewing the literature on the ALP and similar militias and quasi-state forces in Afghanistan can be read here).

Perhaps the strongest evidence that the ALP can be a stabilising or protecting force comes in more recent reports by the UNAMA human rights monitoring team into the protection of civilians in conflict. For example, its mid-year 2014 report said, “Most communities continued to welcome the stability and enhanced security provided by the ALP,” and “reported improved security following ALP deployment.” At the same time, UNAMA has continued to attribute incidents of abuse and civilian casualties to the ALP. Its 2016 report (see AAN analysis), for example, reported nine incidents of threat, intimidation and harassment, including severe beatings, extortion, theft, threats and two incidents of sexual abuse, including one involving a child. It did say that the number of civilian casualties compared to 2015 had halved, although many of those civilian deaths (15 out of 20) were deliberate killings.

UNAMA said it had observed increased efforts by the MoI’s ALP Directorate to hold individuals within the ALP to account for criminal acts. There were 108 arrests and referrals of local policemen to the Attorney-General’s Office in 2016, and 99 convictions. According to the head of the ALP Staff Directorate, Colonel Ali Shah Ahmadzai, these were for a variety of allegations, including killing, harassment, illegal taxation, threats and rape, as well as other charges that were far less serious. In June 2016, the Directorate also ordered additional training on rules of engagement, the laws of war and human rights law. UNAMA said these increased efforts may have been one factor contributing to the reduction in civilian casualties in 2016; the other possible contributing factor cited by UNAMA was the removal of about 2000 ALP considered to be under the control of strongmen or tanzims (more on this below).(3) UNAMA said there was still more work to be done, however, and said it was still “concerned at the prevailing lack of accountability for violations of human rights committed by Afghan Local Police.” (The ALP is, of course, not alone in having in its ranks men who commit abuses and violate the laws of war, as UNAMA’s reporting on the protection of civilians also makes clear.)

Both Colonel Ahmadzai and Lt. Gen. Mohammed Salem Ehsas, assistant to the Deputy Minister of Interior for Security and in charge of the ALP, said that most ALP were working well, but some units were highly problematic, especially in the northern provinces of Badakhshan, Takhar, Faryab, Baghlan and Kunduz and in certain districts in Uruzgan, Ghazni and Wardak. Both they and Colonel Charlie Getz, until recently the director of the part of NATO which mentors ALP, the Special Operations Advisory Group, also contended that the ALP was often blamed unfairly for abuses. On further investigation, they all said, many crimes laid at the door of the ALP turned out to have been carried out by other forces, pro-government armed groups, an ‘uprising force’ (government-supported local militias) or even the ANP. The ALP has “a branding problem,” said Getz.

As to their strategic value, it can be said, at a minimum, that the ALP are particularly detested by the Taleban, which suggests that in some places at least, they are a difficult enemy for the insurgents to deal with. As Michael Semple of Queen’s University, Belfast, has written in 2015:

… the Afghan Taliban perceive arbakai (government-backed community militias) as the greatest threat to their influence, which are formed when the Taliban fail to secure consent to their presence. Armed groups know that losing the argument with communities may mean losing the war.

According to AAN colleague Borhan Osman, when the ALP and similar locally-raised forces first emerged, the Taleban took a particularly harsh approach towards them, with campaigns aimed at killing both local policemen and the elders who backed them. (The casualty numbers bear this out, with more ALP killed proportionally than ANA soldiers, at a ratio of 5:7-8, according to an estimate by Ahmadzai. He reported that, each month, 60 to 100 ALP were killed and 400 to 600 wounded.) The Taleban also used propaganda to cast the ALP as wicked, immoral and isolated, hashish smokers (charsi) and the ‘bastard children of Petraeus’. In 2014, according to Osman, the Taleban began to partly change tactics. The propaganda has continued, but they now aim to convince ALP members to leave the force in exchange for ‘amnesties’ or, at least, for no-fight deals. (Osman plans to publish on this subject in the future.)

Lack of accountability and attempts to reform the ALP

The push for greater accountability on issues such as pay, equipment and absentees (‘ghost soldiers’) started about 18 months ago. In October 2015, SIGAR published a scathing report about the force:

The ALP is the first line of defense for many villages across Afghanistan, but supplies ordered for the ALP are often diverted, delayed, of inferior quality, or heavily pilfered. Furthermore, coalition and ALP personnel SIGAR interviewed stated that unreliable logistics and lack of supplies also increase the likelihood of attrition… Additionally, SIGAR found that some ALP personnel have been used inappropriately as bodyguards for Afghan government officials…

SIGAR also found that significant numbers of local policemen were not being paid in full; other people (most likely senior officers in the MoI) were pocketing a proportion of their salaries. The fact that individual ALP were not being paid, armed or supplied properly would obviously affect morale. Moreover, a force where salaries, supplies and equipment can easily go missing is more attractive to anyone wanting to control units in order to make money or steal weapons. SIGAR was critical of the part of the NATO mission which oversees and administers defence funding, the Combined Security Transition Command–Afghanistan, better known as CSTC-A, and recommended that, “[t]o ensure that the ALP program is responsibly managed and sustained, and oversight of U.S. funds is improved,” various reforms should be carried out.

Even though the ALP is firmly under the command of the ANP and MoI, (4) the US has retained significant influence. Since the transition of responsibility for security to the Afghan government at the end of 2014, the Special Operations Advisory Group, which is part of NATO Special Operations Component Command-Afghanistan (NSOCC-A), maintains a close relationship with the ALP. US SOF forces within the Special Operations Advisory Group continue “training, advising, and assisting” the ALP, albeit only at the level of headquarters and zones. The US is also the ALP’s sole funder (other nations have declined to contribute money because they consider the ALP a militia force). This makes for a very different relationship between donor and force than the ANP has with its donors. The ANP is supported through a multi-donor funding mechanism, the Law and Order Trust Fund for Afghanistan (LOTFA), which is administered by the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP). Being the only donor has advantages, especially given the relatively small size of the ALP: the US has far more influence over the ALP than the ANP.

Although the impetus behind the accountability reforms came from the US military, the Afghans running the ALP appear to have embraced it. Both the recently retired Colonel Ahmadzai and General Ehsas spoke about “our reforms” and described at length “what we have achieved.” They also described, in practical terms, what they still had to do.

The reforms are set out in the 2016 Bilateral Financial Commitment between CSTC-A and the MoI (seen by AAN) as a set of benchmarks, including on personnel, pay, equipment, training, ghost soldiers and that ALP are not working for “Power Brokers, Government organizations and offices and other similar entities.” Conditions are written into the agreement so that if benchmarks are not met, the US can decide to cut its funding. Most significantly, from 1 January 2017, the US military has only been funding ALP salaries for those who are validated as existing and on the tashkil (who are enrolled on the computerised personnel system, AHRIMS). This led to a drop in US spending to the ALP from 93 million (last quarter of 2016) to 85.4 million US dollars (first quarter of 2017). (Similar conditions were imposed on the ANA by the US and the ANP through LOTFA.)

Getz told AAN that the benchmarks with the most robust conditionality were to do with pay, personnel, equipment and training. Apart from training, he said, these measures are largely to do with “accountability, not performance.” (Other benchmarks to do with ghost soldiers and the co-option of ALP, at this stage, required reporting back information only or for systems of checks to be set up.) That might look to be a mundane place to start, but knowing how many local police there are and making sure they are trained, have weapons and are getting paid is the first step towards having an effective force.

Seventy per cent of the ALP are now enrolled on the computerised personnel system (AHRIMS), which matches each individual to a ‘slot’ in the tashkil (the aim was 95 per cent). Seventy-seven per cent now have biometric IDs (the aim was 100 per cent) and 80 per cent are being paid by electronic bank transfer (the aim was 90 per cent). The shortfalls are all reasonable: some ALP have not been able to get out of their districts to register because it is too dangerous. Indeed, SIGAR reported that 30 were shot and killed while trying to do so last year. Meanwhile, bank transfers rely on having mobile phone coverage and bank branches; this infrastructure does not exist everywhere. In themselves, these three measures have helped to identify whether there were ‘ghost soldiers’ in the system. Once the personnel and payroll systems were tightened, it transpired there had been relatively few ghost police in the ALP.

The push to get all ALP trained is going less well, hovering around the 85 per cent mark. The problem here, said Getz, is attrition, with local policemen killed in action, not re-enlisting or ‘going AWOL’ (absent without leave). This means that recruitment and training are barely exceeding attrition. In some places, for example Uruzgan, it is also difficult to pull ALP out for training because they are needed on the ground.

With accountability for equipment, the aim of 2016 was just to get inventories and put a system of checks in place. Assessments are carried out by provincial police chiefs. This is not ideal, given that the ANP has its own, far bigger problems with corruption, and it appeared that some of the missing ALP equipment had been going to ANP. The situation had got so bad that, in October 2016, CSTC-A ordered a moratorium on procurement. This forced the MoI to go through its own stocks, and it managed to reduce the shortfall in ALP weapons by a half. The moratorium was lifted in April 2017 (new orders will come through in 18-24 months’ time). “Equipment,” said Getz, “will always be a challenge.”

The provincial police chiefs are also charged with reporting back on whether any ALP are working for power holders or government entities. With this benchmark, the conditionality so far is also only about providing information. However, General Ehsas said he had removed about 2,300 local police last year who were working for “strongmen, MPs or tanzims.” The problem was by no means solved, he said. It is important to note that ALP units can be dissolved and have been due to issues with political capture (although this is not a requirement of the benchmarks). Getz gave the example of Khost where the ALP was folded because of political interference and command and control problems. (Jaji Maidan in Khost is, however, one of the new districts selected for ALP.) Ehsas also said Yangi Qala in Takhar had recently lost its tashkil because of problems with ALP involvement in crime and political interference.

(For more detail on the reforms and what has been achieved, see the Annex below). 

Conclusion

The US has told the Afghan government that continued funding of the ALP is conditional on reforms being ‘completed’ and that any expansion of the tashkil – and this has been asked for by Kabul – will only be to a ‘reformed ALP’. (5) What has been achieved in the last year on pay, personnel and training is not yet the end of the reform programme, however. The Bilateral Financial Commitment letter for 2017 has not yet been agreed, but more benchmarks are promised. Even so, compared to 2015, there is already a much firmer grasp of who is serving in the ALP and whether they are trained and paid.

The old pressures on the ALP, of powerbrokers trying to control it, have not gone away, though. Describing how decisions were reached earlier in the year over which twenty districts to give new ALP units to, Colonel Getz said pinpointing the greatest security need had been the initial focus of discussion, “but politics quickly kicked in.” The ALP, he noted, is also a “jobs creation programme.” MPs, he said, looking for votes at the next election, are interested in having ALP units in their areas.

In dealing with strongmen and MPs keen to co-opt the force, General Ehsas said that he had backing from President Ghani and that having one committed funder with influence had proved extremely helpful. “US friends put pressure on the government and put pressure on parliamentarians and strongmen. This enables us to lessen the strongman influence on the force. We have very good backing from Resolute Support and Special Operations Forces. So we have had good reforms, and that will continue.” In general, he said the US pressure has been useful for enabling him to tighten accountability. Ehsas believes that, as a result, the force is more disciplined. In terms of morale and the wherewithal to fight, the ALP should now be stronger. The issue of what makes an effective ALP unit will be the subject of future AAN research as we look into what factors lead to units being co-opted and abusive – or defending and protecting the population.

Edited by Erica Gaston, Sari Kouvo and Thomas Ruttig

(1) The quote is from Village Stability Operations and Afghan Local Police: Bottom-up Counterinsurgency, Headquarters, Combined Joint Special Operations Task Force – Afghanistan (CJSOTF-A) 1 April 2011. See also the highly influential paper One Tribe at a Time: A Strategy For Success In Afghanistan, published in 2009 by former SOF major, Jim Gant: “We must work first and forever with the tribes for they are the most important military, political
and cultural unit in that country. The tribes are self-contained fighting units who will fight to the death for their tribal family’s honor and respect. Their intelligence and battlefield assessments are infallible. Their loyalty to family and friends is beyond question.” (Read an AAN guest review of Gant’s paper here).

(2) Mark Moyar, Ronald E Neumann, Vanda Felbab-Brown, William Knarr, Jack Guy, Terry Corner and Carter Malkasian, “The Afghan Local Police Community Self-Defense in Transition,” Center for Special Operations Studies and Research, Joint Special Operations University, August 2013 (copy given to AAN, not available online).

(3) In its mid-year 2016 report, UNAMA said it “welcomes the slight decrease in civilian casualties attributed to ALP during the first half of 2016, noting that such decreases may be attributable to increased accountability for abuses committed by ALP in 2015, continued reduction of the numbers of ALP personnel on the ground in problematic areas, and restructuring efforts of the ALP program that reportedly let to the dismissal of approximately 2,000 ALP linked to power brokers in the first half of 2016. UNAMA reiterates however that the Government must increase accountability for human rights violations committed by ALP throughout Afghanistan.” 

(4) The senior ALP officer is the District Team Leader. Under his command are Group Leaders for every 30 men in the tashkil. The ALP District Team leader answers to the ANP District Police Chief. At the MoI, the deputy to the Deputy Minister for Security is in charge of the ALP.

(5) The Special Operations Advisory Group gave AAN a copy of a PowerPoint document, “ALP Orientation Brief”, dated 1 October 2016, which says that “ALP Reform Completion” is “[r]equired for continued… funding” and is a “[c]ondition of COM RS [Commander of Resolute Support] approving uplift”, i.e. an expansion of the tashkil.

Annex: Agreements made in the Bilateral Financial Commitment and achievements so far

Agreements made in the Bilateral Financial Commitment stipulated that, by the end of 2016:

1) 95 per cent of ALP should be enrolled on the Afghan Human Resource Information Management System (AHRIMS) which matches each individual with a ‘slot’ in the tashkil (according to unit, location and duty title) and logs their name, rank, education level and ID number. [AHRIMS contains all the approved positions within the Ministries of Defence and Interior, along with information such as unit, location, and duty title.]

By April 2017, 70 per cent (22,000) had been registered.

This was a sharp rise in registration from October 2016 when only 9000 ALP had been enrolled. The unregistered ALP are mainly living in 32 districts from which it is difficult and dangerous to get out of to register. Indeed, 30 ALP were shot and killed last year, reported SIGAR while trying to get out to enrol in AHRIMS.

From 1 January 2017, the US military has only been paying money to government for salaries for ALP who are on the AHRIMS. This led to US spending on the ALP dropping from $93 million (last quarter of 2016)
to $85.4 million (first quarter of 2017).

2) 100% of ALP should have a biometric ID card

By February 2017, 77 per cent of ALP had been biometrically ID-ed, said SIGAR.

3) 90% of ALP should be paid using electronic bank transfer (with only four ‘trusted

agents’ working in the entire country)

By the end of February 2017, 80 per cent of ALP were getting paid by bank transfer, said SIGAR.

General Ehsas compared this to the end of 2015 when only 4000 ALP were paid by bank transfer. Now, he said, only about 4000 were not getting paid, mainly in Zabul, Ghor and Kandahar. The problem now is with infrastructure – the phone company used, AWCC, does not have a signal everywhere in the country, and Kabul Bank does not have branches everywhere. Ehsas said a team, from AWCC, Kabul Bank, the ANP and the Ministry of Finance were working on finding a solution.

Bank transfers are not immune to corruption, but still far better than the ‘trusted agent’ system where an agent selected by the Provincial Chief of Police is charged with personally delivering cash salary payments to ALP personnel. As Provincial Chiefs of Police also certify time and attendance reports, there is says SIGAR “an opportunity for fraud and corruption.” He said as much as 50 per cent of salaries go missing when trusted agents are used.

4) The ANP chief of police will validate through an assessment that there are no payments to Ghost ALPs, defined as “providing salaries to Tashkil authorizations that are not manned.” Districts should be checked, at random, once a year.

This benchmark is about getting information. However, progress on dealing with ghosts is coming anyway through the first three measures: enrolment on AIHRMS, getting biometric IDs and paying by bank transfer. Ehsas told AAN that, because of these measures, they were now confident that, apart from in some remote areas, the ALP was not generally suffering from ghost police. He had already removed some ghosts, Getz said, including 729 from the tashkil in Helmand.

5) 90% of ALP should be trained.

Training continues to hover at only about 85 per cent of ALP, according to Getz.

The problem here is attrition, with local policemen killed in action, not re-enlisting or going AWOL, so that recruitment and training barely exceed attrition. In some places, for example Uruzgan, it was also difficult to get ALP out for training because they were needed on the ground.

6) 100% of equipment should be inventoried (ie Ranger pickups, motorcycles, AK-47s, PKMs (machine guns), RPGs (rocket-propelled grenades), communications equipment, solar chargers, organizational clothing and individual equipment, personal protection equipment, and Counter Improvised Explosive Device) and random checks, according to an agreed schedule, started in October 2016.

As of February 2017, 163 of the 179 old ALP districts had been inventoried and “provincial-level consolidated, manual (non-electronic) inventories” created. A schedule for checks was being created for 1396 (2017/2018).

In SIGAR’s 2015 report, which said described shortages of ALP equipment in the field and supplies being “diverted, delayed, of inferior quality, or heavily pilfered,” gave some concrete examples. In multiple districts in Helmand in August 2014, for example, SIGAR found shortages of weapons, trucks and motorcycles:

…in Marja district, they noted a shortage of 114 AK-47 rifles, and in Nehri-Saraj district, a shortage of 13 ALP Ranger pick-up trucks. These shortages persisted despite an ample amount of such equipment in the supply system. For example, in a July 2014 audit report, we reported that DOD had provided the ANDSF 83,184 more AK-47 rifles than required by current potential and future requirements. DOD noted later that year, however, that although there may be plenty of weapons and ammunition in the supply system, district and provincial requests go unfilled.

Resolute Support ordered a moratorium in October 2016 on giving new vehicles and equipment to the ALP until they could account for what they had already been given. Colonel Getz said that did incentivise the MoI to find suitable weapons from its own stocks for ALP and it had managed to halve the shortfall in ALP weapons. The moratorium on procurement has now been lifted (which means new equipment coming online in 18-24 months’ time). Accountability for equipment relies on the ANP, not the most transparent force for reporting. That raises questions as to the accuracy of the inventories.

7 The ANP will visit each district at random once per year to ensure no ALP are working for “Power Brokers, Government organizations and offices and other similar entities”

At the moment, the conditionality for this benchmark only concerns providing information about co-opted ALP.

The Taleban’s ideology has transformed over the past two decades. While the movement once typified a ‘traditionalist’ Islam – that is, it sought to articulate and defend a particular concept of Islam found in southern Pashtun villages – it is now, in its insurgency phase, closer to forms of political Islam espoused in the Arab world. This does not mean that the Taleban are less conservative or authoritarian, rather that the objects of their repression and the way they frame their mission have shifted in important ways. In a major new report, AAN guest authors Anand Gopal and Alex Strick van Linschoten examine the changes as well as the continuity in the Taleban’s ideology from the 1980s to the present day. The report is the product of years of interviews, fieldwork in Afghanistan, as well as their time working with the Taliban Sources Project archive, a significant collection of documents relating to the Taleban movement.

Outsiders have been trying to understand the Afghan Taleban for over two decades. Most of the members of the movement’s leadership have avoided interviews and public appearances, and the ongoing conflict has made tracking them down for a wider ethnographic study extremely dangerous. Until recently, this left researchers with few options. Over the past seven years, however, an archival project took shape, culminating in the Taliban Sources Project. It has been tremendously challenging to collect, digitise and translate the Taleban’s written output over the years. The authors’ initial motivation was that it would stimulate new research into the movement’s history. As the authors collected more, they thought it was worth trying to examine the ways in which the Taleban’s ideology had changed over time.

The documents and interviews challenge three conventional notions of Taleban ideology:

1. That the Taleban’s ideology is a mechanical, literalist interpretation of Islam that has not changed in over thirty years.
2. That the Taleban’s ideology was born in Pakistani refugee camps, and represents a phenomenon alien to Afghan society.
3. That the Taleban’s ideology represents a form of Deobandism (or, in some variants, Wahhabism) that stands in opposition to Sufism and other religious tendencies prevalent in Afghan society.

The main conclusions drawn in the paper are that the Afghan Taleban’s ideology is a) the result of a sophisticated internal logic that has changed in subtle but important ways over the years, b) the origins of the Taleban’s ideology lie in the southern Pashtun village, not the Pakistani refugee camp, and 3) their thinking is heavily infused with Sufism.

In this seventeenth year of the US-led international military intervention in Afghanistan, a re-thinking of outsiders’ understanding of the Taleban’s beliefs is sorely needed. That the Taleban’s ideology has evolved does not mean that the group is any less oppressive or brutal, but it does mean the nature of their oppression has changed, which may one day provide an opening for engagement. This evolution is partly the result of the exigencies of insurgent warfare, which have exerted different constraints and pressures on the movement than the ones faced when in power, and partly the result of demographics: a new generation has risen within the middle ranks of the movement, some of whom have brought new ideas with them. To grasp what the old generation stands for and how the ground is shifting beneath these core principles, therefore, is to better understand the structures of the movement in general.

In this survey of the Taleban’s written documents and based on years interviewing actors in Afghanistan, the authors found that the movement’s ideology is historically rooted in the world of the pre-1979 (pre-Soviet invasion) Pashtun villages in southern Afghanistan. The village contains various and competing ethical traditions, one of which laid the basis for the future Taleban movement. Key features of Taleban repression, such as restrictions on women or banning music, had their antecedents in the southern Pashtun countryside.

More than half of the Taleban senior leadership – including nearly all the key ideological influencers – were born before 1965, which means that they received their primary education and formative childhood experiences prior to the 1979 upheaval.

The classic theory of the Taleban states that the movement is the product of Pakistani madrassas, but data presented in this report suggests that at least 60 per cent of the 1990s leadership (defined as those who served in ministerial and deputy-ministerial ranks, were front line commanders, or held informal positions among Mullah Omar’s retinue) received a significant portion of their education inside Afghanistan. Moreover, the senior leadership’s core education took place in hujras, informal guestrooms in village mosques, and featured a curriculum that was far more eclectic and irregular than the Deobandi curriculum found in major Afghan and Pakistani madrassas.

Through links to Deobandism and indigenous religious practice, the Taleban leadership, particularly supreme leader Mullah Muhammad Omar, was deeply influenced by Sufism. This has been explored in previous AAN dispatches by Bette Dam and Fabrizio Foschini.

The Taleban’s ideology is based on a particular epistemology, a theory of knowledge, in their case, religious knowledge. In the past, this epistemology was intimately linked to certain rural Pashtun traditions of virtue. A study of the foundations of this epistemology suggest that the group’s beliefs and practices were never simply a mechanical imitation of a literalist reading of texts or a blind attempt to recreate the early days of the Prophet Muhammad, but rather were the result of a sophisticated internal logic deeply tied to notions of honour, virtue and repressive power among Pashtun villagers. (For background, see this 2011 AAN paper about Pashtunwali).

Recently, however, we have seen a shift towards a more ‘modern’ type of Islamist reasoning found in groups ranging from the Muslim Brotherhood to al-Qaeda. Today’s fighters look very different to their predecessors. Gone are the days of enforced asceticism and ritual purity on the frontline—today’s involvement with criminal networks, the opium trade, extortion and kidnapping that mark the current insurgency would have been unthinkable among the self-disciplined taleban fronts of the 1980s (on these taleban fronts in the 1980s’ mujahedin tanzim, before the formation of the Taleban movement, see this 2010 AAN paper) This shift is largely a reflection of the pragmatic concerns of statecraft and, in particular, of running an insurgency.

The key transformation in Taleban ideology has been a shift from an emphasis on outward conduct – the knowledge of rites, bodily comportment, a Prophetic lifestyle, prayer techniques and schedules and other aspects of everyday rituals – to behaviour that today focuses more on internal beliefs and loyalty. The distinction is between act and intent as the objects of Taleban repression. This shift, which is strongest in sections of the leadership, helps explain the movement’s embrace of once-forbidden items such as film and photography. The pragmatic exigencies of waging an insurgency spurred this ideological shift.

To be sure, these shifts and trends differ throughout the movement; they more accurately describe the evolution of the leadership than the rank-and-file, which in some cases may still be espousing traditionalist viewpoints.

Revolutionary Islamism does not necessarily translate as transnational jihad. In fact, what continues to unite all wings of the Afghan Taleban movement is a commitment to Afghanistan’s sovereignty—which is, in effect, a form of nationalism. Despite the Taleban’s rejection of non-Sharia-based normative systems, the movement has not rejected coexistence with those systems in the international state system. Moreover, the Taleban’s imagined community is limited to Afghans in practical terms, if not always in their rhetoric.

Questions of ideology and ideological shift bring a broader perspective into view, one that does not necessarily match every moment of daily life as lived in Afghanistan. When it comes to finding useful strategic insights from these long-term changes, making connections becomes harder still. Nevertheless, this is the place from which we should start: primary sources, interviews and a sense of the Taleban leadership’s position and perspective from talking with them. Only then can we hope to start to untangle the intricacies of how the Taleban has changed over time, and discover who they have become.

The full report can be read here.

The ICC Office of the Prosecutor (OTP) announced on 14 November 2016 that it would “imminently” make its final decision whether to ask the ICC Pre-Trial Chamber for authorisation to open an investigation into war crimes and crimes against humanity committed since Afghanistan signed the ICC statute in 2003. The Afghan government, however, has asked the ICC to hold off on plans for an investigation for one more year. AAN researcher Ehsan Qaane analyses the developments over the past seven months, the back-and-forth between the Afghan government and the ICC, and the likely key issue: whether war criminals enjoy amnesty in Afghanistan, or not.

As a member of the Transitional Justice Coordination Group, an informal network of civil society organisations and a former fellow at the ICC, Ehsan Qaane has followed the ICC preliminary analysis of the situation in Afghanistan closely. The author was also part of the civil society delegation that visited the ICC in The Hague in April 2017, a visit that is discussed towards the end of this dispatch.

14 years after signing the statute of the International Criminal Court (ICC) (hereafter, Rome Statute), the Afghan government has felt compelled to start communicating with the court. On the Afghan side, this communication involves the highest level. This in response to a report by the ICC prosecutor, which stated that there was “reasonable basis to believe” that war crimes and crimes against humanity had occurred in Afghanistan since the government signed the Rome statute on 1 May 2003 (see the sixth Preliminary Examination Report on the Afghanistan Situation disseminated by the Office of the Prosecutor (OTP) of the ICC on 14 November 2016).

The ICC also noted that no-one had been prosecuted for such crimes in this period in the country so far. Therefore, it said, the OTP would take its final decision “imminently” as to whether it would submit an application to the ICC Pre-Trial Chamber for authorisation to open an investigation (see also AAN analyses here and here). This would require a majority of three judges of the Pre-Trial Chamber to be convinced by the OTP’s findings and arguments.

Kabul’s main demand now is that the OTP delay submitting its application to the Pre-Trial Chamber to open an investigation. The reason: It feels that such an investigation could derail the September 2016 peace deal with Hezb-e Islami, the country’s second largest insurgent group. The deal has been welcomed by some Afghan allies, but not by war victims and human rights activists (see here and here).

The Afghan political delegation: “Don’t hamper the peace process”

In November 2016, a delegation of the Afghan government met ICC chairwoman Silvia Fernández de Gurmendi and ICC Prosecutor Fatou Bensouda in The Hague. The delegation was led by Hekmat Karzai, the deputy foreign minister for political affairs. According to the minutes of the meetings, reviewed in hardcopy by AAN, the government stated there that it “is keen to fully cooperate with the ICC, but it is not the right time to open an investigation into Afghanistan’s situation” (AAN translation from Dari). The delegation requested the ICC for more time (“at least one year”) so it could ensure a more comprehensive cooperation with the ICC. It argued that the ICC investigation could harm the ongoing peace process with Hezb-e Islami and its leader, Gulbuddin Hekmatyar, as well as the government’s next attempts to encourage the Taleban to join a similar ‘peace process’.

The Taleban (and their affiliated Haqqani network) are among the alleged perpetrators of war crimes and crimes against humanity, as mentioned in the OTP Preliminary Examination Reports. The Office has not attributed any alleged crime to Hezb-e Islami, although it listed it as one of the armed group who fought against the Afghan government. For its report, the OTP mainly used the October 2016 quarterly UNAMA civilian casualties report. In this report, covering the period between 1 January and 30 September 2016, 61 per cent of conflict-related civilian casualties was attributed to anti-government elements, without naming particular groups (AAN analysis here).

Since then, UNAMA’s annual report, published after the OTP report and the peace agreement with Hezb (in February 2017), attributed seven injured civilians to Hezb-e-Islami during 2016 (see p 50 here) from amongst a total of 6,994 civilian casualties attributed to anti-government elements. The last big terrorist attacks that led to civilian casualties and were claimed by Hezb occurred in Kabul in May 2013 and in February 2014.

The September 2016 peace agreement with Hezb-e Islami granted a blanket amnesty. This applied not only to the party leader, but to all Hezb commanders and fighters who joined the peace process. It did not set any caveat on the obligations under international law to ensure accountability for the most serious crimes, generally understood as the crimes included in the Rome statute.

As a result of the deal, Hekmatyar’s name was removed from the UN Sanctions List at Kabul’s request and the votes of the Security Council members. On 2 May 2017, 55 Hezb members were released from Afghan prisons. Meanwhile, negotiations for the release of around 2000 more detainees and prisoners are ongoing. On 5 May 2017, President Ashraf Ghani, Chief Executive Abdullah Abdullah, former head of state Hamed Karzai and prominent mujahedin leaders from the civil war era (1992-96) officially welcomed Hekmatyar in the presidential palace. In a speech there, Hekmatyar stressed the importance of “forgetting the past” and stated: “I never called anyone a war criminal and have also not asked for them to be brought to justice, as this is not the right time [to do so]. [In addition] there is no court in Afghanistan to prosecute warlords. The government is not strong enough to do so. Personally, I am not interested in the prosecution [of warlords].” (Watch here, 32:00 to 35:00)

Granting this blanket amnesty to alleged perpetrators of war crimes – and indirectly also offering it to the Taleban (as the Hezb deal has been viewed as a blueprint for such a second peace deal numerous times, e.g. see this EU statement) – will not help convince the ICC of the Afghan government’s willingness to prosecute war criminals.

According to article 17 and 53 of the Rome Statute, the OTP has to open an investigation when a state party shows unwillingness to prosecute alleged crimes under the jurisdiction of the ICC. According to the minutes of the Hague meeting, in response to the Afghan delegation’s request for a delay, ICC officials mentioned that “though the ICC is not putting its state parties under time restriction (…), the ICC is obliged to follow its procedures, too.” The officials also criticised the Afghan government for poor cooperation with the ICC in the past: “Since 2010, the ICC repeatedly asked information [from the Afghan government] but unfortunately [its] cooperation was not sufficient.”

The Afghan delegation to The Hague told ICC officials that the OTP had not considered important new legal developments that, according to the delegation, now showed Afghanistan’s willingness and ability to prosecute. Since November 2016, the following legislation had been passed:

• A new draft penal code was approved on 2 March 2017 by the cabinet. In contrast to its predecessor, this law now also criminalises war crimes, crimes against humanity, genocide and aggression. It includes definitions for these crimes that are identical with those in the ICC Statute. Articles 339 and 340 on responsibility of superiors now make commanders and senior officials responsible if their subordinates commit war crimes, crimes against humanity, genocide or aggression. This would be the first time in Afghan legal history that these international crimes have been criminalised in a national law – pending approval by parliament. (Another option is that President Ghani endorses the law as a presidential decree during the parliament’s summer recess.)
• The Law on Prohibition of Recruitment of Child Soldiers was published in the official gazette on 17 January 2015 and came into force one month later. Its Article 3 prohibits the recruitment of children and sets a punishment of six months to one year imprisonment for commanders who recruit children. The OTP’s Preliminary Examination Reports, including its latest report, published on 14 November 2016, included allegations of child recruitment by Afghan government forces: […] Afghan government forces have allegedly conscripted, enlisted and used children to participate actively in hostilities.

In their meeting, the Afghan delegation and the ICC officials agreed to continue communication and cooperation. The Afghan side gave assurances they would soon send a technical delegation to continue the discussion.

The technical delegation: “The ‘Amnesty Bill’ does not mean impunity”

The technical delegation visited the ICC on 12 January 2017. According to a source in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs (who spoke on condition of anonymity), Nadir Nadiry, the former transitional justice commissioner of the Afghanistan Independent Human Rights Commission, strategic communication officer in President Ghani’s office (at that time) and Afghanistan’s government focal point for the ICC, led the delegation.

The delegation was asked by the ICC to provide information on Afghanistan’s peace process with Hezb-Islami and the ‘Amnesty Bill’ for war crimes passed by the Afghan parliament that has been in force since 2009 (for background information, see here). The OTP, in its sixth Preliminary Examination Report had earlier noted that:

… the “Law on Public Amnesty and National Stability” provides legal immunity to all belligerent parties including “those individuals and groups who are still in opposition to the Islamic State of Afghanistan”, without any temporal limitation to the law’s application or any exception for international crimes.”

The delegation defended the Amnesty Bill and the peace agreement with Hezb-e Islami by explaining the Afghan, particularly sharia-based, legal terminology. This terminology refers to the categories of Haqullah (public right) and Haq ul-Abd (individual right). Under Haq ul-Abd, individual victims of war crimes and human rights violations continue to have the right to file a lawsuit and the judicial organs are required to process the case. This means that the judicial organs will only become active when victims take the initiative. However, without legal support of the state, this is in practice largely impossible, as many of the alleged criminals are either part of the government or in other positions of political power, including in the judicial organs.

Since the Amnesty Bill came into force, no victims have filed a case, either individually or collectively. Still, with Haq ul-Abd being part of the Amnesty Bill and the Hezb peace agreement, Kabul argued that the law and the deal did not amount to a blanket immunity.

The ICC officials were not convinced and asked the delegation for further explanations in writing.

Prosecutor to President Ghani: “The ICC will follow its procedures”

On 18 February 2017, President Ghani met the ICC Prosecutor at the Munich Security Conference. This followed a phone conversation with Ms Bensouda in December 2016, according to a source in the MoFA. In the meeting, he asked Ms Bensouda to also “consider those groups and countries that are behind [the] killing of Afghan civilians”. It is not clear if the President meant for an investigation. The website of the President’s office did not give provide details regarding which groups and countries he was referring to or how the ICC might do this. The Afghan government has, however, repeatedly claimed that Pakistan supports Afghan insurgent groups; the NDS, for example, has accused the Haqqani network as being behind the 31 May 2017 terrorist attack in Kabul, in cooperation with the Pakistani intelligence service. It is also not clear whether the President, with this statement, in principle agreed that the ICC should open an investigation in Afghanistan or whether he meant that Pakistan should be investigated instead.

It was reported that the ICC prosecutor stressed in the meeting that she would keep up her cooperation with the Afghan government under the provisions of the ICC procedures. This means the ICC will initiate an investigation in Afghanistan if the information provided by Afghan government does not convince the court about its willingness and ability to prosecute perpetrators of international crimes that have occurred on Afghan soil.

The result of the communications: 15 cases sent to the ICC

Following the two meetings, the Afghan government took further steps to convince the ICC about this ability and willingness to prosecute. It shared two packages of cases that had already been prosecuted in Afghanistan. The five cases in the first set were sent in March 2017. These included the cases of Anas Haqqani and Hafiz uRashid; two senior Haqqani network figures who were tried in 2016 by the primary and appeal courts in Bagram district of Parwan province. Both were sentenced to death on the charge of financing and supporting terrorist attacks carried out by the Haqqani network on Afghan soil. (So far, AAN has been unable to establish details of the other cases sent to the ICC.) In this package, the government also sent the additional arguments about the concepts of Haqullah and Haq ul-Abd in the Amnesty Bill, as requested.

The second package, sent in late April 2017, included ten cases of rape, sexual abuse, murder and torture of war prisoners, committed by Afghan soldiers, that had been addressed by military courts. According to information AAN received from sources with knowledge of these proceedings, none of the convicted soldiers was of senior rank. Based on this information, it may be doubtful whether those crimes fall under the jurisdiction of the ICC.

Afghan civil society activists to the ICC: “Please go ahead”

A group of Afghan civil society activists also met ICC officials in The Hague from 3 to 7 April 2017. The group expressed scepticism about the preparation of the government to have an ICC investigation. Hadi Marifat, a member of the group, said in the meeting: “In the absence of adequate applicable legislation, judicial redress, and political will of the Afghan state to genuinely investigate and prosecute those responsible for international crimes, and the resulting blatant culture of impunity in the country, the ICC must intervene and support the victims in their long quest for justice.” The group spoke in favour of the ICC opening an investigation in Afghanistan.

The ICC keeps its decision open

The information shared by the government over the past months, after the November 2016 Preliminary Examination Report, represents a considerable improvement in its cooperation with the ICC. As AAN reported earlier, the government had previously hesitated as to whether even to receive an ICC delegation and had delayed issuing visas.

Possibly as a result of the communication, the Office of the Prosecutor (OTP) of the ICC has not yet submitted its application to the pre-trial chamber to seek authorisation for an investigation. It seems willing to give the Afghan government another chance to prove its ability and willingness to prosecute alleged perpetrators of war crimes and crimes against humanity. So far, the government has tried to convince the ICC of its goodwill by sharing information, but this is likely to be too small a step to convince the ICC. But better communication with the ICC can help both parties gain a better understanding of each other’s intentions. Afghans – including the government – often do not have a clear understanding of the ICC and its jurisdiction. On the other hand, ICC staff working on Afghanistan situation also may need time to better understand Afghanistan’s context.

The lack of criminalisation of some of the crimes that could fall under ICC jurisdiction, and the lack of clarity on how to address them, remains a concern, because of the still pending Penal Code. The failure to implement existing law is another big challenge. Torture, for example, has been criminalised by the current Afghan Penal Code since October 1976 and by the current Afghan constitution since January 2003, but it is still widely used, as the latest UNAMA torture report showed (the report found that from 1 January 2015 to 31 December 2016 more than a third of 469 conflict-related detainees interviewed by UNAMA “gave credible accounts of being subjected to torture or ill-treatment” – see AAN analysis here). The OTP’s preliminary examination reports also showed that the OTP found a reasonable basis to believe that torture was used by Afghan security forces, including the police, the intelligence service and the army. The OTP stated that the available information did not confirm any prosecution of perpetrators for this crime.

It is then obvious that in order for the Afghan government to convince the ICC of its willingness and ability to prosecute, it will need to show more than mere legal changes – it will need to show that actual steps towards accountability are taken.

Edited by Thomas Ruttig and Sari Kouvo

Afghanistan has been an inspiration for many photographers, but very few opt to base themselves in a war-torn country. Andrew Quilty, an Australian photojournalist, is an exception: he came to Afghanistan in 2013 and has been based in Kabul since. Many remember his haunting photographs taken in the ruins of the Kunduz hospital, a week after the US bombed it, for which he won a George Polk Award in 2016. He was also awarded the Gold Walkley, the highest honour in Australian journalism, the same year. His recent exhibition in the Australian embassy in Kabul left many Kabulis impressed. AAN’s Jelena Bjelica asked him to choose five photographs from his Afghanistan portfolio and tell their stories, as well as what it is like to be a photographer in Afghanistan today.

Andrew Quilty started his career at the Australian Financial Review in the early 2000s. Although his early personal photographic work in Australia brought him two awards in 2008, the World Press Photo Award and the Walkley Award for Young Australian Photojournalist of the Year, he was just beginning the successful career of an oft-awarded photographer. (Quilty was awarded the 2014 Nikon Walkley Photographer of the Year and 2015 Walkley Australian Freelance Journalist of the Year. In 2016 he won a George Polk Award and the Gold Walkley, the highest honour in Australian journalism.)

Before he settled in Kabul, he lived and worked in New York City for a year and a half; and after his first visit to Afghanistan –  this “formative experience,” as he refers to it – compelled him to move to Kabul where he has been based since December 2013. He has since travelled to more than 20 provinces across Afghanistan and has produced an exquisite body of photographic work that has been published by leading international publications, such as The New York Times, Time Magazine, Harper’s, Mother Jones, The Washington Post, The Wall Street Journal, The Guardian, Le Monde, GEO, Bloomberg Businessweek, The Sydney Morning Herald, The Australian Magazine and many more. In 2016, a selection of Quilty’s work from Afghanistan, After Enduring Freedom, was exhibited at the world’s premier festival for photojournalism, Visa Pour L’Image, in Perpignan, France. (An AAN colleague saw Quilty exhibition in Sarajevo at the Warm Festival in 2016 and wrote about it here).

On AAN’s request, Quilty chose five photographs from his Afghanistan portfolio that have some deeper meaning to him as a photographer. Below are the photos and their stories, as well as Quilty’s reflections on Afghanistan’s light, a photograph’s aesthetics and ethics, security limitations and how to overcome those and other such photojournalistic predicaments. 

1.

Twenty-four hours after two landslides buried hundreds of residents of Argo district in the mountainous northeastern province of Badakhshan, local men watch an Afghan National Army helicopter carrying then Second Vice President Karim Khalili over the disaster site, seen here in the background. May 3, 2014.

I was at a small social gathering at The New York Times’ bureau in Kabul with others from the foreign press corps when the news of this landslide started filtering in.  As As a freelancer myself, I immediately began chasing a commission, and the first outlet I reached out to, TIME Magazine, agreed to put me on. I enlisted the help of a local fixer, Mansour, who arranged what he thought was access to an Afghan military aircraft flying to Badakhshan the following morning. When we arrived at the entrance to the military section of K    abul International Airport (KAIA), however, our names were on only one of several lists that had been made by a variety of government officials. The flight appeared to be at least quadruple-booked.

There must have been ten checkpoints that Mansour and I had to talk our way through before we even made it to the tarmac, where government officials, ministers, and a vice president were all trying to board this Afghan Air Force C-130 Hercules.

As for media, whoever was in control of the flight, for some reason, decided they were only going to let the BBC and the Guardian aboard. I was one of dozens of other journalists – both Afghan and foreign – who looked like we were going to be left behind.

I was new in Kabul back in 2014, and as blatantly ambitious as it sounds, this was a big opportunity for me. I was adamant that I was going to get on the plane.  Mansour and I managed to make it to a pack of maybe 100 people pushing and shoving at the back of the plane when, all of a sudden, the rear cargo door started rising off the ground. I got one foot up and felt Mansour push me from behind as the door continued to close. I literally crawled through the legs of one soldier and past others, found a seat,  put a scarf over my head, and pretended I was sleeping. Mansour didn’t make it onto the plane.

When we landed in Faizabad, I had no idea where I was, but with help from fellow journalist colleagues I made it to the site.

I took this photograph soon after I arrived at the site. The men in the photo, with the landslide behind them, were looking up at the helicopter flying out with Vice President Khalili, who had been on the plane I came up with and then flown to and from the site from Faizabad.

I used the helicopter flying by as a distraction. Without having time to spend with those you’re photographing – as is often the case in Afghanistan – it is almost impossible for people to get used to a photographer’s presence and not react when you lift the camera. At home, in Australia, I could spend days with people I would photograph, and after a while they would go about their business, not oblivious but at least less conscious of my presence.

In this instance with the helicopter, when you’ve been taking pictures for long enough you begin to look for and anticipate these kind of moments and the opportunities they provide. You know that when the helicopter flies by everyone will look at it, so you see it coming, position yourself and wait for the split second where it all falls into place in the viewfinder, achieving, most importantly in this instance, a sense of spontaneity in the photograph that was not achievable either seconds prior or after. On top of that is the added symbolism of the divide between the haves-and-have-not in Afghanistan: the civilians watching the departing government official after his photo-op at the site of their disaster, their reality.

I learned a lot during that trip to Badakhshan about the restrictions of working in Afghanistan – especially in the provinces – like which times of day are safer to work and when and where not to be on the road. The general thinking is that it is safer to be out in the middle of the day, which of course is the worst time of day for a photographer.

The landslide in Argo was one of those unusual situations when attention is drawn to on one area of the country: a high concentration of security forces, aid workers, VIPs, and media, all focused on one area. On the one hand, there is strength in numbers, but on the other hand, opportunists who know that outsiders are on the road try to take advantage.

Nevertheless, as a photographer in Afghanistan, you take advantage of the opportunities and the access that opens up when security is heightened.

Working in Afghanistan forced me to focus more on the subject than on aesthetics and graphic elements. Back in Australia, when I was learning the ropes, I had become very selective with light, mostly because of the photographers that I admired. I like to shoot early and late in the day and find it hard to be enthusiastic about working anytime in between.

The security situation here – primarily the risk that comes with public exposure – also changes the way I work. It forces me to work quickly, under circumstances I might not choose if I had a choice, particularly when it comes to time of day and location.

I do not think of myself as a huge risk taker. A lot of planning goes into travel outside Kabul: we do not just jump in a taxi and head for the hills. I was inexperienced and a bit ignorant in Badakhshan, and probably pushed my luck more than I would these days. Now, working with colleagues, I’m often the one who questions going here or there and often I’ll be the one telling journalists to wrap up their interviews because it feels like we have been in one place too long; but at the same time, I think I have a better sense of what is reasonable risk than someone sitting behind the desk in New York, or London, or even Kabul. It is something you can only learn from experience, and I trust my instincts and those of most of my colleagues on that.

(For more on the Badakhshan landslides, see AAN’s previous reporting here and on the impact of climate change in Afghanistan see AAN’s analysis here).

2.

Before sunrise, on the outskirts of Herat City – and a few hundred meters from the US consulate – men from Ghor province warm themselves by a fire. Approximately 300 IDPs camped by the side of the road had left their homes in the neighbouring province because of drought and tribal conflict. The temperature was minus 8 degrees Celsius soon after sunrise. December 29, 2013.

This was taken on my first trip to Herat province. I was new to the country, new to the circumstances, new to the poverty.

The friend and colleague I had come to Afghanistan with were driving around the edge of the city and came across these large groups of people who seemed to be camped by the side of the road. They were internally displaced persons (IDPs) from Ghor province.

It was freezing cold. Some families had tents while others made shelters out of cinder blocks and tarpaulins. People were sleeping under piles of cheap, heavy Chinese blankets that locals had donated. Each afternoon, businessmen would bring them by the carload, as well as food, fire wood, tents and other basics.

I found the scene very confronting – these little kids on the side of the road crying from the cold. I remember thinking – as most people probably do when they’re first confronted by such misery – that we had to do something to help. We went into the city and found a guy selling winter gloves on a pushcart. I bought 20 pairs, took them back to the makeshift camp, and was immediately swarmed. They were gone in seconds. When I look back on it now my impulse was kind of analogous to the Western belief that we can come in and, overnight, make a difference and save Afghanistan. That’s not to say that I regret it or anything, but after three or four years here now, I see the futility in the short-term solutions that much of the development and aid industry provides.

I went back early the next morning; I wanted to be there when they woke up.

Well before sunrise, a group of men were already up, squatting around a small fire. They were burning anything they could find – plastic, even scraps of discarded clothing – to keep themselves warm before the sun came up. It was still freezing cold. So cold that, not wearing gloves myself, and trying to keep my hands warm in my pockets, I sliced my palm open on a pocketknife blade that had opened without my realisation until I felt my hand sticking to the camera because it was dripping with blood. These people were there, night after night, while I got back in a heated car, headed for a pharmacy and then back to a hotel.

In a way, it was this trip that made me want to stay in Afghanistan; it helped me find a meaning in photography I hadn’t felt before. I came to Afghanistan from Sydney, where I photographed for a national financial newspaper, mostly taking portraits of fat, rich businessmen.

After I came here and saw real life and the struggle – all these eye-rolling clichés – the idea of going back to a massive metropolis and photographing the latest restaurant to open in the hip part of town, or businessmen, just was not appealing anymore. Now, I feel like my career only really began when I arrived in Afghanistan.

Afghanistan is incredibly photogenic: the light is very different than that which shaped my photography – my photographic style – previously. Australia’s light is harsh and bright and saturated with colour. Here the light is a lot softer, paler; there’s dust, pollution and smoke between the camera and the sun. I think that also helped my photography because I stopped looking for the nice light I had always relied upon, to an extent, elsewhere. In Afghanistan, the stories behind the photographs were so compelling that I wasn’t as dependent on light as I had been.

I think every editorial photographer at one time or another wonders whether he or she could work in a conflict zone, and that was undoubtedly part of the reason I came here, initially – to test myself. But I think I liked working here before I had nailed down whether or not I actually could.

Professionally speaking, it was fortuitous that I came at a time when many photographers had left – there was space for me to find a slice of the market. Also, that somewhat self-righteous notion – that many who become attached to the country feel – of Afghanistan as ‘the forgotten war,’ may have played into my reasoning for staying.

(For more details about the IDP situation in Afghanistan, see AAN previous reporting here and here).

3.

The morning after two men were killed by the CIA-funded Khost Protection Force in a raid, hundreds of men, some carrying Taleban flags, protested against the deaths in a procession on the outskirts of Khost City. November 7, 2015.

I was on an assignment with the Washington Post. The Khost Protection Force (KPF) is funded and trained by the CIA and is similarly secretive. It is successful – in a General Raziq kind of way (1) – in maintaining a measure of security but attracts plenty of accusations of human rights abuses. I travelled to Khost with the Post’s Kabul correspondent, Sudarsan Raghavan, and one of their national reporters, Sharif Hassan.

While we were there, the KPF conducted a raid in a village ten kilometres outside the city, killing two men that villagers claimed were non-combatant civilians. We were sitting in the dining room of the governor’s compound when one of his staff mentioned what had happened overnight and said that there would be a demonstration in the city. It’s rare that something so pertinent to the story you’re working on – especially in Afghanistan and especially for a story that few want to be photographed or interviewed on-the-record for – lands in your lap like this.

We decided to try to meet the procession that we were told was moving from the village toward the city. Demonstrators were carrying the bodies of the two villagers who had been killed the night before and were marching for the governor’s compound. We drove to a road that we knew they would have to pass. Assuming the procession would be charged with anger from the deaths, we stopped close to a checkpoint that was being manned, coincidentally, by KPF soldiers. Although they are known to be aggressive and heavy-handed, they also have a reputation for being well-trained and disciplined, so we hedged our bets that outside the city we would be safer near them than we would be in a more isolated spot.

We stopped a couple of hundred metres away and watched the demonstrators coming towards us. It all happened very quickly. They were getting closer and closer and chanting: “Death to Americans! Death to American slaves!” Their anger was palpable and raw. They didn’t have guns, but they were angry. We were sitting in the car watching them marching toward us. I kept asking Sharif: “Can I get out, can I get out? Is it okay?” But our communication was getting lost in the chaos, and so I got out and, hiding behind my camera and dressed in the local clothes I took a few pictures, when a local fixer we were working with, shouted: “Get in the car!”

As soon they had passed (without incident), we got in the car. Everyone was kind of frantic and yelling at each other. Still, we followed them. The demonstrators got stopped at the KPF checkpoint, and the procession of vehicles that had followed them got stuck too, with us in the middle of it all.

Then a second group of demonstrators, these ones carrying Taleban flags, started to pass through the traffic jam. We stayed in the car, put our heads down and waited for the mob to disperse.

The photograph is significant to me because it is one of those rare situations, whether through luck or stupidity, that I managed to get close to such a virulently anti-government, anti-Western element.

Had we known how it was going to play out beforehand, we probably never would have driven there. I suppose these types of moments mildly appease my frustration at not being able to photograph the Taleban or inside Taleban-controlled areas.

(See AAN previous reporting on human rights abuses and torture by Afghan security forces, including the Khost Protection Force, here and here).

4.

There were 19 classes at the Sayedabad-area school in Helmand’s Nadali district, but only four teachers. With Taleban-controlled villages only a couple of hundred metres away, Afghan soldiers occupied positions on the school’s roof. The area, and the school, fell to the Taleban months later. March 29, 2016.

I find here, in Afghanistan, the picture itself is often subtler than its subtext, that is, what’s going on beyond the frame, what happened before and what will happen after it’s taken. In this case, what’s happening in this seemingly peaceful scene and what’s going on in the background are incongruous.

The village of Sayedabad, in Helmand’s Nadali district where this photo was taken, has an unusually high proportion of Hazaras for the south of the country. I was there with my colleague Sune Engel Rasmussen working on a story about an Afghanistan Local Police (ALP) commander, a Hazara, and his village that at the time was basically surrounded by Taleban-controlled villages. We spent a day and a night with him. We could see Taleban flags through a thicket of trees that provided cover for the villagers walking between their homes and the village centre. The ALP units scattered around the village were getting in firefights every day. Apart from the one road in and out, the village was more or less besieged.

Early on the second morning, the commander took us to the local school a couple of hundred metres from his house. When we arrived Afghanistan National Army (ANA) Humvees were parked outside the school and machine gun positions were on the roof, all while school was going on inside.

Children were arriving with small bouquets of flowers that they had picked on their way. Flowers are iconic in male Pashtun culture, and particularly in the south, you’ll often see young men and boys carrying them or wearing one behind an ear. These kids went one step further, though, bringing flowers to school and comparing their arrangements before the start of their classes. There were only four teachers for almost five times as many classes. The students told us that when there was fighting they hid under their desks.

Sune and I wanted to go back to Sayedabad to spend more time with the commander and at the school, but a couple of months later the village was overrun in a Taleban offensive that took the insurgents to the doorstep of the capital, Lashkar Gah. Most of those from Sayedabad fled. A few of the ALP commander’s men were killed. The government no longer has a presence there. The ALP commander is now in Kabul.

I find pictures like this one grow in significance when the place in which they were taken is no longer accessible. For me, they represent the ephemeral nature of any kind of stability in these rural areas.

(See AAN 2016 reporting on Helmand province here and here).

5.

Najiba, the wife of Baynazar Mohammad Nazar who was killed when the MSF Kunduz Trauma Centre was destroyed by a US warplane, cradles her daughter Zahra as she cries over her father’s grave outside Kunduz City. “Father, we washed your bicycle – please wake up – you can come home now.” November 18, 2015.

This picture was taken just over a month after Baynazar Mohammad Nazar was killed in the Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) hospital in the US air strike in Kunduz city. (For a detailed account of this attack, see AAN’s Kate Clark dispatches here and here. See Andrew’s photographs from the destroyed MSF Kunduz Trauma Centre, published in Foreign Policy and for which he received a George Polk Award in 2016, here).

It took me a while to find Baynazar’s family. Initially, I spoke with his wife, Najiba, and his eldest son, Samiullah, over the phone, but I wanted to meet them if I could. As it happened they were also hoping to meet me. They had already seen the pictures I had taken of their father, dead on the operating table in the trauma centre. (A staff member from MSF in Kunduz who was helping me locate the family showed them before they were published.) It’s hard to imagine why, and I’ve never asked, but they wanted the pictures published.

I had four UN flights on four consecutive days cancelled on the runway in Kabul, and in the end decided to drive to Kunduz. Foreign Policy, who I had been on assignment for when I accessed the hospital in October, was eager to publish the story, and so, having already lost four days sitting in the UN passenger terminal in Kabul, I only had an afternoon and the following morning with them, during which time they told me what happened in the days before Baynazar’s death, as well as the days that followed, and some of their family history.

Before I left on the first evening, I asked Samiullah, the eldest son, if he could show me where his father was buried. The next morning, before my flight back to Kabul, we drove to collect him from an intersection not far from their place. (Visiting private homes in the back streets of Kunduz was still dicey, even after the Taleban had claimed to have withdrawn from the city – less for me than for the family members, who could be targeted if they were seen hosting a foreigner.) Samiullah was there along with the whole family, so we all piled into the car for the short drive to the cemetery, just five minutes from the centre of the city on an open hillside with a view over Chahardara district. We all got out and I followed them to the grave, leaving the fixer, Waqif, and driver, Safiullah, with the car.

Zahra was inconsolable. Samiullah was looking after his youngest brother, Khalid, who was six at the time, and seemingly unaware of what’s going on. When Zahra and her mother kneeled by the grave, it was probably more confronting, for me, than when I took the picture of their dead father and husband on the operating table in the ruins of the hospital. Photographing children in pain, I find, is the hardest thing to see. And it’s so intrusive to be that close in moments like this. I suppose I try to diminish myself – make myself small and quiet, take the minimum number of photographs necessary.

(See AAN’s thematic on insurgency and governance in Afghanistan’s northeast here and the thematic dossier on the evolution of insecurity in Kunduz here).

(1) See the 2015 Human Rights Watch report on Afghanistan strongmen and his legacy of impunity here and a recent HRW dispatch on General Raziq here.

The last of at least seven tents that protestors had set up in Kabul – after the horrific 31 May bomb attack and in protest against police brutality used during a march they organised on 2 June 2017 – has been removed. Afghan police forces dismantled it late in the evening of Monday, 19 June 2017. This triggered a new episode of violence as protestors clashed with police and the latter allegedly used live ammunition. At least one person was killed and six others wounded. In five questions and answers, the AAN team looks at who the protestors are, what their demands were and how they changed, the government’s response, the protests’ impact on day-to-day life in Kabul and whether the protests are likely to continue.  

The march took place in the morning of 2 June 2017 with hundreds of protestors from different groups and affiliations. They condemned the attack and accused the government of failing to provide security for the population. As the participants marched towards the presidential palace, they were stopped by security forces, who used live ammunition killing at least six protesters. Around 30 were wounded. Among those killed was Salem Ezadyar, the son of a leading Jamiat politician, Muhammad Alam Ezadyar.

In the early evening of 2 June, some of the demonstrators started setting up tents as a protest against the police brutality. The first one, close to the explosion site, belonged to civil society activists. A new group of protestors with more radical demands followed their example a few hours later, and set up a tent at nearby Sherpur Square in front of the Emergency Hospital. Even after the hospital staff complained about being “threatened” by those protestors, they remained there.

A statement issued on 3 June 2017 by the protestors added more demands: It urged the international community to recognise the 31 May bombing as a crime against humanity and to act firmly against local and foreign supporters of terrorism. It demanded the resignation of the president and the chief executive, the dismissal of the national security adviser, the head of the intelligence and the minister of interior as well as the identification of the perpetrators of the 2 June police shooting, naming the police units involved as

The 3 June terrorist attack at the Ezadyar burial brought in more protestors who were angry about these killings. They accused the government again of not having taken sufficient security measures.

There were no new street marches after that. But 5 June saw the establishment of more protest tents. Three days later, their number had reached seven, straddling an area from Kart-e Parwan, to the northwest of Shahr-e Naw (the ‘New City’) and Pul-e Artal in the southwest at Kabul river, to Shahid Square to the east near the airport. Each tent was occupied by a few dozen people, with numbers fluctuating. Tents were also pitched in a number of provinces such as Baghlan and Takhar. A week later, however, the protestors in Kabul dismantled six of seven tents. Only the one erected first, at Sherpur Square, remained in place – until it was forcefully removed by security forces in the night of 19/20 June 2017.

During this police operation, again shots were fired. A 23-year-old was killed who is said to have been a supporter of Chief Executive Abdullah during the 2014 presidential elections and close to him. The Afghanistan Independent Human Rights Commission released a statement expressing concern about the “continuation of violence by security forces against those on the sit-in” and called the police action “violent [and] illegal [. . .]. The coincidence of this incident with the previous president’s meeting with civil activists seriously puts to test the government’s genuine will to respect human rights and the basic rights and freedoms of the citizens.”

Chief Executive Abdullah Abdullah said what happened during the night of 19 June “shocked the people” and announced that “legal actions” will be taken after the completion of an investigation. Later that day, the president’s office issued a statement expressing sorrow about the killing and wounding of protestors. It further said that the security forces had taken action based on the “efforts of parliamentarians [who has sent a delegation – see below] and demand of Kabul residents from different walks of life.” A joint delegation of the Ministry of Interior (MoI), the National Directorate for Security (NDS) and the Attorney General Office (AGO) was tasked with investigating the killing.

Nevertheless, the MoI claimed at a press conference held on Thursday, 22 June, that police had no weapons while removing the protestors’ last tent in Kabul and carried only sticks and shields. AAN staff, however, saw police carrying firearms near where the tent was dismantled on 21 June. 

2. Who are the protesters?

Initially the protests were leaderless. There was no steering committee, and various groups and individuals, seemingly mobilised via a social media campaign, joined the street protests with a variety of slogans. The initial protestors from the civil society sector called for justice and reform. Other protestors demanded the resignation of the president, the chief executive and the leaders of security sector and called for an interim government. The 2 June protests were joined by groups with unrelated issues, including some who protested against the peace deal with Hezb-e Islami.

Soon after the march started, a group from Khairkhana, a neighbourhood in northern Kabul, joined the demonstration. They included former Ghani advisor and leading Jamiati Ahmad Zia Massud and Latif Pedram, leader of a small Tajik ethnocentric party. Photos on social media seemed to show that some of them were carrying arms. Following this, non-Tajik protesters started leaving the site while the protests turned more violent, and the police started shooting at the demonstrators.

Two groups seemed to feature at the core of the protests: members of a social and cultural association that goes under the name of “Khorasanian” and members of “Jombesh-e Guzar” (Transition Movement). The Khorasanian are young Tajiks who promote ancient Persian traditions and the use of Persian (Dari) words instead of Arabic and Pashto loanwords in their language in a bid to counter what they see as Pashto domination in official terminology. Their name refers to the historical Persian-speaking region to the northwest of the Hindukush and used as an alternative to “Afghanistan.” (1) Jombesh-e Guzar announced its existence on 11 May 2017 and its aim as “facilitating transition to a desired political situation.”

The Transition Movement’s leadership seems to overlap with that of the Khorasanian. They are also involved in party politics and in particular have relations with Jamiat-e Islami (Jamiat itself has an ethnocentric Tajik strand). But that does not mean that their agendas are identical or that the Khorasanian do Jamiat’s bidding. This group, however, shared the more radical demands directed against the government, which had been articulated even before the protests, by Jamiat leaders such as Ismail Khan and Zia Massud (see the latter’s 28 April 2017 Facebook post here).

The protestors who erected their tent at the Emergency Hospital, were joined by Massud and Pedram representatives. Leaders of Jombesh-e Roshnayi – prior to these events the most visible protest movement (more here) – also arrived at Sherpur Square to speak with the demonstrators. But except for condemning the police violence in a statement, they avoided publicly joining the protests during the following days. After the terrorist attack at Ezadyar’s burial, more protestors joined in, now mainly Jamiati activists angry about the killing of their fellow party members. They brought to the protests the party’s long-standing demand of a “full implementation” of the National Unity Government agreement, mainly a demand for a better share in the allocation of government positions (on this conflict, AAN analysis here).

As early as 3 June, some of the protestors started using a new name, “Rastakhez-e Taghir” (“Resurrection” or “for Change), on social media in an attempt to create an umbrella ‘brand’ for the protests. Later, they selected purple as their colour, wearing purple headbands, for example. One of the movement leaders, Barna Salehi, told AAN on 21 June 2017 that the movement had a central committee comprised of 45 members and several sub-committees.

Similar to the individual groups participating, the people behind the movement are young Tajiks, mostly unemployed and restless, among them a few Kabul University students or recent graduates who are very articulate, some with “Jamiat connections,” a close observer of the events told AAN. These activists adopted an ‘all ethnicities against the government’ rhetoric, trying to make the movement look larger than it is, the observer added. The same might be the case with all the different groups and names that appeared in the context of the protests, often on social media only.

Leading activists of the movement, nevertheless, rejected the Jamiat link. In their statement on 3 June 2017 they insisted that they had no affiliation with any political party. Already mentioned Barna Salehi and Asef Ashna (a former deputy spokesperson to the chief executive – he resigned because of “government incompetency” during the 2015 Zabul Seven protest told AAN that the movement was separate from Jamiat and that the latter’s involvement was only triggered by the attack at the Ezadyar funeral. That Jamiat raised similar demands did not mean that the movement was part of Jamiat, members told AAN. Salehi added, though, that the movement welcomed Jamiat’s (and other political groups’) support for its demands, pointing to Pedram’s National Congress Party and the New National Front of Afghanistan led by the former minister of finance and economy Anwar-ul Haq Ahadi. (Ahadi’s front had demanded for many months that the government step down in favour of an interim government (See AAN’s report here).

On its part, Jamiat disassociated itself from the protestors, calling them “civil society groups and ordinary civilians alike” who “exercised their civic rights and held peaceful demonstrations over the inability of security officials to ensure the safety and security of the people” in the wake of “tragic and unprecedented attack on the 5th day of the Holy month of Ramadan.”

Nonetheless, on 13 June 2017, the Panjshir Mujahedin Council – from a core Jamiat stronghold – announced its support for the movement.

Protests in its support were also organised in some provinces like Badakhshan as well as by the Afghan diaspora in a variety of countries, like the USA, the UK (see here) and Belgium.

3. What was the government’s response on the protestors’ demands?

After the 3 June attacks, both the president’s office and the chief executive announced that the government was ready for negotiations at any level. The president even emphasised that he was ready to hear the protestors’ legitimate demands and did not take a public position against the protestors. According to Asef Ashna, the protestors put forward a number of demands, including the suspension of officials in the security sector whom they suspected of ordering violence against protestors, and live media coverage of the negotiations. The presidential office did not accept the latter demand.

The president, however, did not talk to the protestors directly. Instead he met 3,000 individuals from various groups such as the private sector, civil society, political parties and academia. His office published the highlights of these meetings on 11 June, mainly focusing on participants’ statements against the tent sit-ins.

The protestors suspected that the people meeting the president were handpicked to support his position. Ashna said this led the negotiation process “astray.”

Some government representatives took an even stronger stance. NDS chief Massum Stanakzai, who had been summoned by the Meshrano Jirga on 18 June 2017 for a hearing about the incidents, told the senators that the 2 June protest had not been organised in accordance with the law. Earlier, Kabul Garrison commander Gul Nabi Ahmadzai, on 7 June 2017, told the BBC that the 2 June demonstrators were “rioting,” that people “rose up, without informing the police, without any notice, without a leader, goals and demands being known” and “converged on the [presidential palace].” He also denied that forces under his command shot at the civilians and said that the attorney general should probe how the six protestors got killed. (2)

On 7 June 2017, the Wolesi Jirga of the parliament formed a commission comprised of its administrative board and one MP from each of the 34 provinces (Kabul had three). The commission met the president and the chief executive as well as, at the parliament, representatives of the protestors. On 12 June 2017, the commission presented a “Plan for Consolidation of National Unity and Bringing About Political Accord” that was approved by the Wolesi Jirga’s plenary session on the same day. It responded to some demands of the protestors, for example by calling for the investigation and punishment of the perpetrators of both the terrorist attacks and of police violence in Kabul.

A day before the Wolesi Jirga’s approval of this plan, 11 June 2017, the Attorney General’s Office (AGO) suspended Ahmadzai, the commander of the Kabul Garrison, and Kabul police chief Hassan Shah Frogh from their duties. AGO spokesman Jamshid Rasuli called this step a sign that “a transparent investigation” into the police violence was under way. The president’s office welcomed the AGO’s decision.

The government’s position on the protests was also supported by several political parties – including Atmar’s Rights and Justice Party, the National Linkage Party headed by Ismaili leader Sayyed Mansur Naderi and, more importantly, the leader of Hezb-e Islami, Hekmatyar who, thereby, gave a public sign of loyalty to the government and the peace deal he had concluded with it in 2016.

4. What was the protests’ impact on daily life in Kabul?

The installation of the tents by the protestors and the roadblocks erected around them by the government (which wanted to prevent more marches toward the Arg) created a massive traffic jam that paralysed day-to-day life in central parts of the city. (One tent blocked lanes on a major road leading from the airport to the western parts of the city and the tent in the Pul-e Artal area created a bottleneck between the western and central parts of Kabul.) Thus, government employees and others working in the affected areas were stuck for hours, reducing the already shortened Ramadan office time.

Realising (but not publicly admitting to) growing public frustration with the blockades, the protesters dismantled most of their tents. They stated they did so “out of respect [for] the mediation [efforts] of some parliamentarians [. . .] and to honour the holy month of Ramadan.” Barna Salehi confirmed to AAN that the Wolesi Jirga commission had asked the movement to remove its tents. The movement, however, decided to keep its “central” tent at the Sherpur junction.

5. Will the protests continue, and why?

With the removal of their last tent in Kabul in the night between 19 to 20 June, the protestors are off the streets of the capital for the time being. But as the security forces resorted to force for the second time during the tent removal and killed another protestor (the protestors claim a second person had been killed), (3) bringing the number of those killed between 2 and 19 June to seven, a sense of victimhood was created among the protestors, on which the movement may capitalise.

At the moment, a lot of anger and talks about “the martyrs” and the “deadliest crackdown” in the post-Taleban time are being ventilated on social media, (see here). This seems to be designed to stir up emotions. In a statement of 20 June 2017, leaders of the protest movement announced that they “will not surrender to tyranny and repression and [will] continue to struggle peacefully and lawfully for litigation and justice to our shed blood and to achieve our rightful and just demands.” (see here)

Also, rumours are that Jamiat will organise another huge demonstration after the Eid holidays (sometime after 25 June). Jamiat leader Salahuddin Rabbani has continued to reach out to various political party leaders such as Abdul Hadi Arghandiwal, the head of the pro-Abdullah faction of Hezb-e Islami, and deputy chief executive Muhammad Mohaqeq of one (mainly Hazara) Hezb-e Wahdat faction. The Jamiat mainstream represented by him, however, is not calling for the government to step down, as more radical voices in the party and among the young protestors are, but is pushing to strengthen the party’s position within the government vis-à-vis the president’s camp and its growingly assertive arch-rival, Hekmatyar’s Hezb-e Islami.

(1) For example, they want to replace Pashto terms such as saranwal (prosecutor) with dadsetan and pohantun (university) with daneshgah and Arabic terms such as mahkama (court) with dadgah. Their aim is to protect traditions such as Yalda night, Nawruz and Chaharshanba-ye Sori.

– which go back to pre-Islamic times – that have increasingly been challenged not only by the Taleban but also by parts of the clergy as ‘un-Islamic’ (see AAN analysis here).

(2) For background, this is what the Office for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE) says in its 2010 “Guidelines on Freedom of Peaceful Assembly”:

1.3 Only peaceful assemblies are protected. An assembly should be deemed peaceful if its organizers have professed peaceful intentions and the conduct of the assembly is non-violent. The term “peaceful” should be interpreted to include conduct that may annoy or give offence, and even conduct that temporarily hinders, impedes or obstructs the activities of third parties.

3.4 “Time, place and manner” restrictions. A wide spectrum of possible restrictions that do not interfere with the message communicated is available to the regulatory authority. Reasonable alternatives should be offered if any restrictions are imposed on the time, place or manner of an assembly.

3.5 “Sight and sound”. Public assemblies are held to convey a message to a particular target person, group or organization. Therefore, as a general rule, assemblies should be facilitated within “sight and sound” of their target audience.

(3) They claim the victim was a 14-year-old boy who was at the tent with his father and had been run over by a police vehicle.

In order to consolidate its presence in Afghanistan and to maintain, expand and ensure better impact of its current output, AAN is seeking to recruit one Researcher. The positions are expected to be Kabul-based and full time.

Background

The AAN is a non-profit, independent policy research organisation, established in February 2009. It aims to bring together the knowledge, experience and drive of experts to better inform policy and to increase the understanding of Afghan realities. It is driven by engagement and curiosity and is committed to producing independent, high quality and research-based analysis on the main developments in Afghanistan.

The institutional structure of AAN includes a small core team, currently consisting of three Co-Directors/Senior Analysts ‘commuting’ between Europe and Afghanistan, and a Kabul-based team of international and Afghan analysts. AAN has a small, well-functioning office and a guesthouse in Kabul that serves as the hub of the organisation’s activities.

AAN publishes regular in-depth thematic reports, policy briefings and political commentaries. The main channel for the dissemination of the reports is the AAN web site. For more information on AAN please check the AAN website: www.aan-afghanistan.org

The Researcher will report to AAN’s Co-Directors or a person designated by them, and s/he will be provided with a fixed-term and renewable employee contract. Remuneration will depend on experience and skills, taking into account the current AAN salary scales.

Note: AAN is a small, hard-working and dynamic team and we are looking for individuals who will fit well with AAN’s current team and who are able to contribute to AAN’s work, rather than individuals to fill exact positions. This is a team for self-starters that enjoy contributing to team work, researchers with a sense of both detail and creativity, who enjoy a wide range of tasks including commenting on and editing other people’s work, mentoring younger researchers, communication tasks, etc.

Job description Researcher

Specific responsibilities

• Develop and conduct in-country field research with a view to producing high-quality analytical reports;
• Closely follow the political developments in and around Afghanistan and contribute to dispatches, reports and speaking engagements;
• Contribute to AAN’s in-country communication through organising events, contributing to AAN’s Dari/Pastho website and social media presence;
• Contribute to translation, editing and peer reviews of AAN publications;
• Contribute to the administration and management of the AAN network and in-country presence;
• Contribute to the management of AAN’s research portfolio;
• Other tasks as deemed necessary.

General Requirements

• Degree in a relevant field (Masters in for instance, Communications, Journalism, Political Science or Social Sciences);
• Knowledge and experience of communications and/or advocacy work and of developing communications’ strategies;
• Knowledge and experience of the Afghan political and social landscape;
• A minimum of 5 years relevant working experience in Afghanistan and/or its region;
• Excellent communications, networking and organizational skills;
• Excellent analytical, writing skills and editing skills;
• Ability to function in a demanding and challenging environment (flexibility, a sense of humour and the ability to work with relatively little guidance are essential)
• Native Dari or Pashto speaker and excellent English language skills with a passion for language. 

Starting date

The selected candidates will start at a mutually agreed date. There is a three month trial period.

How to apply

You can email your application, consisting of a CV with cover letter outlining your experience, three references (with up-to-date email addresses) and a recent example of your writing and analytical skills, to ‘recruitment@afghanistan-analysts.org‘.

Incomplete applications will not be taken into consideration.

For administrative ease please write ‘AAN application Researcher’ and your name in the subject line.

The deadline for applications for this recruitment is 15 July 2017.

Only short-listed candidates will be contacted.

For more details on the positions or the application process please direct your queries to: sari@afghanistan-analysts.org

In order to consolidate its presence in Afghanistan and to maintain, expand and ensure better impact of its current output, AAN is seeking to recruit one or two new research staff members. Depending on skills, training and experience they will be hired for the position of Junior or Senior Analyst. The positions are expected to be Kabul-based and full time.

Background

The AAN is a non-profit, independent policy research organisation, established in February 2009. It aims to bring together the knowledge, experience and drive of experts to better inform policy and to increase the understanding of Afghan realities. It is driven by engagement and curiosity and is committed to producing independent, high quality and research-based analysis on the main developments in Afghanistan.

The institutional structure of AAN includes a small core team, currently consisting of three Co-Directors/Senior Analysts ‘commuting’ between Europe and Afghanistan, and a Kabul-based team of international and Afghan analysts. AAN has a small, well-functioning office and a guesthouse in Kabul that serves as the hub of the organisation’s activities.

AAN publishes regular in-depth thematic reports, policy briefings and political commentaries. The main channel for the dissemination of the reports is the AAN web site. For more information on AAN please check the AAN website: www.aan-afghanistan.org

In order to consolidate its presence in Afghanistan and to maintain, expand and ensure better impact of its current output, AAN is seeking to recruit one or two new research staff members. Depending on skills, training and experience they will be hired for the position of Senior or Junior Analyst. Both positions are expected to be Kabul-based and full time (some flexibility possible for the right candidate).

The Senior/Junior Analyst will report to AAN’s Co-Directors, and s/he will be provided with a renewable consultancy contract. Remuneration will depend on experience and skills, taking into account the current AAN salary scales.

AAN provides war risk insurance and travel/accommodation costs during official travel.

Note: AAN is recruiting one or two persons. AAN is a small, hard-working and dynamic team and we are looking for individuals who will fit well with AAN’s current team and who are able to contribute to AAN’s work, rather than individuals to fill exact positions. This is a team for self-starters that enjoy contributing to team work, researchers with a sense of both detail and creativity, who enjoy a wide range of tasks including commenting on and editing other people’s work, mentoring younger researchers, communication tasks, etc.

Job description Junior/Senior Analyst

Specific responsibilities for both positions

• Plan, manage and conduct in-country field research with a view to producing high-quality analytical reports;
• Drafting and finalising analytically in-depth dispatches and possibly reports;
• Participate in all aspects of AAN’s analysis and review processes, including through research collaboration, editing of colleagues’ texts, peer reviewing of reports and mentoring of younger colleagues;
• Contribute to all aspects of AAN’s communications’ processes through media interviews, social media outreach briefings, speaking engagements and other events;
• As needed, contribute to the administration and management of the AAN network and in-country presence.

General Requirements

• Degree in a relevant field (Masters in for instance Communications, Journalism, Political Science or Social Sciences);
• A minimum of 7 years relevant working experience for the Junior Analyst and a minimum of 12 years relevant working experience for the Senior analyst, of which at least three year in Afghanistan, a neighboring country or the region for both;
• A deep and documented knowledge and experience of the Afghan and/or regional political and social landscape;
• Excellent and documented analytical, writing skills and editing skills.
• Experience in communications, social media campaigns, etc.
• Excellent networking and organisational skills;
• Ability to function in a demanding and challenging environment (flexibility and a sense of humour are essential)
• Ability to work both independently and as part of a team
• Native English speaker or comparable level with a passion for language;
• Preferably proficient in Dari, Pashto or another locally relevant language.

Candidates do not need to specify whether they are applying for the Junior or Senior Analyst position. A determination will be made based on years of experience, level of knowledge and an assessment of the candidate’s ability to independently research, draft and edit, and possibly mentor others to AAN’s standards.

Starting date

The selected candidates will start at a mutually agreed date. There is a three month trial period.

How to apply

You can email your application, consisting of a CV with cover letter outlining your experience, three references (with up-to-date email addresses) and a recent example of your writing and analytical skills, to ‘recruitment@afghanistan-analysts.org’.

Incomplete applications will not be taken into consideration.

For administrative ease please write ‘AAN application Analyst’ and your name in the subject line.

The deadline for applications for this recruitment is 15 July 2017.

Only short-listed candidates will be contacted.

For more details on the positions or the application process please direct your queries to: sari@afghanistan-analysts.org

For more than six months, the dilapidated barracks behind Belgrade’s main bus station housed over a thousand men and boys – most of them Afghans. Conditions, despite better weather and increased assistance, remained dire and the migrants continued to live under the looming threat of eviction. In May 2017, the authorities finally moved in, vacated the buildings and tried to transfer all the inhabitants to government-run centres. AAN’s Martine van Bijlert and Jelena Bjelica visited the squat and  some of the government-run centres, in the weeks leading up to this event. They describe the changes since they were last in Serbia and discuss the options that are available to Afghans now.

This research on Afghan migration to Europe was supported by a grant from the Open Society Foundations.

Afghans in Serbia: an overview

Serbia is an important transit country for Afghans en route to Europe. During a brief period in 2015 and 2016 the borders in Europe were open for Afghans, Syrians and Iraqis as part of the so-called “humanitarian corridor” (see this earlier AAN analysis); during that time well over half a million people passed through Serbia on their way to Western Europe. After the corridor closed in the spring of 2016, Afghans continued to enter into Serbia. The country became a place where they could recuperate from their harrowing journey and reconnect with smugglers to organise their onward journey (for more details see this earlier AAN analysis).

During our first visit to Serbia in June 2016, a few months after the closure of the Balkan corridor, AAN found a large concentration of Afghans congregating around the ‘Afghan Park’ in central Belgrade. This was where new arrivals were dropped off, new deals with smugglers negotiated and from where attempts to illegally cross one of the borders often began. Most people AAN met in Belgrade, in the summer of 2016, had been caught off-guard by the closing of the humanitarian corridor and were now trying to continue their journey through Hungary.

In November 2016 during a second visit, AAN found that migrants’ ability to travel onward to Western Europe had been seriously hampered after Hungary fortified its borders. The number of Afghans who found themselves stuck – out of money and abandoned by their smugglers – continued to grow as more people arrived. A sizable community of single men and boys had, by that time, started to camp out in a series of abandoned warehouses behind the city’s main bus station.

During winter more warehouses were opened or broken into, which meant that existing spaces felt less crowded. Small tents provided a greater sense of privacy. Photography: Martine van Bijlert

During a third visit in April 2017, described in this dispatch, AAN revisited the warehouses behind the bus station and found that things felt slightly more settled, although no less desperate, as the likelihood of successful illegal border crossings into the EU seemed to have greatly diminished. Although the inflow into Serbia had slowed over the winter, it was still greater than the outflow which seemed largely stalled.

The Serbian government tried hard to accommodate all migrants in government-run centres, but up to an estimated 15 to 20 per cent (or around 1,200-2,000 people) continued to live on the margins, seeking shelter in squats and parks in Belgrade city or in the forests close to the country’s northern and western borders. (1) Afghans continued, by far, to make up the largest group of migrants in Serbia, both in and outside the government-run centres.

The Belgrade squat: a more settle community – but only for a short period

Total estimates varied, but on average at least a thousand people were living in the barracks – most of them Afghan (and to a lesser extent, Pakistani), all of them men or boys. (2) The Afghans we met largely came from eastern Afghanistan (in particular Nangrahar, Laghman and Kunar) and the provinces around Kabul (Kapisa, Logar, Parwan). (In the government-run centres, especially those that housed families, the demographic was markedly different: there were more Dari-speakers and a wider range of areas of origin, as opposed to the largely Pashto-speaking inhabitants in the squat).

The squat came into being in late 2016 when the main government-run centre close to Belgrade (Krnjca centre) tightened its admittance criteria and no longer accommodated unregistered migrants. (The two parks, which many would sleep in at night, had in the meantime been dug up, supposedly as part of a landscaping effort.) With winter on the way, groups of men started to camp out on the porches of the old customs warehouses in search of shelter. They gradually forced their way inside and turned the large and leaking halls into makeshift rooms using blankets, pieces of wood and derelict furniture (for early photos, see here). Initially, the government tried to clamp down on the situation. It issued a public letter banning non-governmental organisations from providing assistance. However, after a botched attempt to evict the squat in late November 2016, the authorities’ attitude softened and efforts to somewhat improve conditions in the barracks were slowly tolerated (more details in this dispatch).

The distribution of simple wood-fire cookers with pipes had somewhat improved health conditions, but on cold days the air inside was still thick with smoke. Photography: Martine van Bijlert

When AAN returned to the squat in April 2017, a modest proliferation of NGOs and volunteer groups had improved things. In November 2016, there had been daily hot lunches and ad hoc distributions of blankets and other items, but otherwise the inhabitants were largely left to fend for themselves (see also this Al Jazeera video). In late April 2017, different groups were providing meals and tea. There were field visits by NGO workers and medical teams, as well as social activities – including a cricket match between Afghan and Pakistani teams and presumably a distribution of soccer balls and cricket bats.

More warehouses had been opened up or broken into, which meant that existing spaces felt less crowded. The squat was also noticeably cleaner, after various NGOs and volunteer groups had installed toilets, trash-cans, sinks and showers. Small tents inside the warehouses provided greater privacy. The distribution of simple wood-fire cookers with pipes had somewhat improved health conditions, but on cold days the air inside was still thick with smoke. A small generator powered an improvised outdoor mobile phone charging station a few times a day.

The outer walls of the barracks had been covered in colourful graffiti, which gave the place a slightly surreal feel, while an area at the edge of the premises had been cleared and made into a makeshift open-air mosque with flower-lined paths leading up to its entrance. There were smaller prayer areas inside the buildings for rainy days (attendance varied and several people were also observed praying in their own ‘rooms’).

An area at the edge of the premises had been cleared to make an open-air mosque, with a flower-lined path leading up to its entrance. Photography: Martine van Bijlert

A medical team from Medecins Sans Frontieres (MSF) visited several times a week on its rounds through the town to distribute tickets for disinfectant showers against scabies (body lice was less of a problem after winter). In a secluded area at the back of the premises there were large white tents with bunk beds where minors could spend the night.

There had been a considerable turnover of people, leaving very few familiar faces from the visit in November 2016. Many of the squat’s earlier inhabitants, tired of the winter’s hardships, seemed to have moved to the new centre for single men in the former military barracks of Obrenovac, which opened in early February 2017 (the centre had an initial capacity of 550 and is is currently at its maximum occupancy of around 1000). There had also been an outflow from the squat towards the northern border in February and March 2017, in a last-ditch attempt to cross into Hungary before it changed its law and complicated its asylum procedures (see this companion dispatch).

Many of the men and boys in the squat that AAN talked to had arrived in Serbia in late 2016 or  early 2017. But even though they were relatively recent arrivals, most of them had left Afghanistan before the Balkan corridor closed in the spring of 2016. They had simply spent a long time on the road.

A few men had left Afghanistan following the closure of the corridor, but they were by far in a minority. Among them was a particularly tragic case of a new arrival from Logar. He told AAN he had been dropped off at the Afghan Park by one of the smuggler’s aides that morning. When he left Afghanistan in December 2016, the smuggler assured him he would still take him all the way to Austria without any problem; he charged 4,500 euros for the whole trip. When they finally arrived in Serbia that morning, after three failed attempts to cross the Bulgarian border, he was told this was as far as the smuggler would bring him and that the deal was now off. The man was visibly shaken. (For more on how many smugglers have left Afghans stranded since the closing of the Balkan corridor, see this earlier dispatch).

Vacating the squat: Serbian authorities try to regain control

During AAN’s earlier visit in November 2016, the squat’s inhabitants had been very much on edge. They feared police raids and eviction, and many were constantly ‘on call,’ hanging around in the Afghan Park in the evening, waiting for word from their smugglers. Others still believed the rumours that Hungary would temporarily open its border and were frantically seeking updates. In late April 2017, in contrast, the squat felt more settled, although most of its inhabitants seemed resigned rather than reassured. It was notable that around half of the Afghans we spoke to said they were no longer trying to cross the border. Some had simply not tried at all – either because there was too little chance of success, or because they no longer had the money to pay for it.

In November 2016 it was already clear that the authorities would not tolerate the squat indefinitely, particularly as the barracks were scheduled to be demolished to make way for the Belgrade Waterfront, a controversial high-end infrastructure project in the centre of town. Several high-rise buildings had already shot up next to the squat in April 2017, providing a towering and surreal backdrop to its makeshift cricket field and outdoor mosque.

The barracks were scheduled for demolition to make way for the Belgrade Waterfront project. Several high-rise buildings had already shot up next to the squat. Photography: Martine van Bijlert

Then, on 5 May 2017, the Serbian authorities announced their decision to definitively move migrants from the barracks – see the Serbian language news here (which cited citizens’ complaints, rather than the Belgrade Waterfront project). A first group was moved on 10 May 2017. Volunteers described scenes of “panic” and confusion – as well as obstruction by smugglers, who tried to stop people from taking lunch, presumably in an effort to bolster claims of a “massive hunger strike”:

There was a feeling of mass panic; refugees were crowding into a dark room to write their names on ‘the list’, which determined where they would go. We felt responsible for boys that help us run the tea project and worried for their future. There is a camp specifically for unaccompanied minors (under 16) but this information did not seem to reach them. Many young boys were boarding the buses to large camps where their minor status may be overlooked and their asylum claim jeopardised.

The squatters’ eviction – together with similar operations in the north and west of the country (3) – appeared to be inspired by the authorities’ wish to establish the government-run centres as the only places where migrants could stay. Aleksander Vulin, the Serbian minister of labour, employment, veterans and social policy, emphasised this point when he visited the vacated squat:

We have shown these people what is better for them, [while] refraining from violence. These hutments will be completely removed, and we will not allow the irresponsible settling of migrants – not only in Belgrade, but also elsewhere in Serbia, because capacities exist to accommodate all of them. (See article, with video footage of the vacated squat, here.)

Belgrade squat, April 2017. Photography: Martine van Bijlert

Moving migrants into the government-run centres

Serbia currently has 18 reception and asylum centres, with a total capacity of around 7,000 beds (for the latest figures see this UNHCR update from early May 2017). Many of the centres were originally set up to deal with the masses of people who were travelling through the Balkan corridor in late 2015 and early 2016, and are, for that reason, located on or close to the various borders. The centres are in principle open, with the exception of Preševo – the largest and best-serviced camp.

Several of the men who lived in the Belgrade barracks were also, or had been, registered in one of the camps. A young man from Baghlan, for instance, showed us his card for the Obrenovac centre, but said he preferred to spend his time in the squat: “I go to the camp about once a week to have a shower. Otherwise conditions are exactly the same as here [in the squat]. Okay, it’s warmer in the camp and there is electricity, but at least here you are free.” A man from Kabul, who had travelled to Serbia with his eleven-year old son, also preferred to spend his days in Belgrade (leaving his son at the centre), as he tried to gauge what his options were. (4)

Some of the centres had been set up specifically to accommodate single men, such as the one in Obrenovac, while others mainly housed families. The camp in Preševo, on the Serbian-Macedonian border in the south, had a mix of single men and families. It was the least popular of Serbia’s camps. Stories about its closed nature had made many wary of going there (in practice, people were allowed out but only in a controlled manner: a limited number of exit passes were granted per day.) It is also the camp that is the furthest away from any border on the way to Western Europe, and the fact that migrants had in the past been expelled to Macedonia instead of being dropped at Preševo, made many migrants nervous. (5)

AAN also visited the reception centre in Pirot on the Bulgarian border. The camp had opened in December 2016 and had a very different feel to it than the squat or the large centre in Preševo. A row of chalets on the side of a mountain, inhabited almost exclusively by families (the majority were Afghans, a smaller proportion Syrians and Kurds) the place had the feeling of a relaxed holiday camp. Conversations with the Afghan families living in the camp, however, showed that, although conditions were marginally better, with no one fearing eviction or expulsion, they experienced the very same feelings of limbo and desperation as those living in the squat.

Where to go from here?

Conversations with the Afghans stuck in Serbia – on where to go and what to do – tended to be circular, with no real resolution. Most still hoped to be able to travel onwards, but many realised that chances of doing so had become slim. Probably around half of the squat’s population was still regularly trying to “hit the game” (game zadan – the Dari slang used for trying to illegally cross the border). (6) The families in the government-run centres seemed more settled, but even there, people still regularly left the centres to try their luck.

Apart from illegally crossing the border, there was the option of the ‘Hungary list” for Afghans who were registered with the Serbian authorities: Every week ten people from this list are allowed to lodge an asylum request with the Hungarian authorities. The system has given Afghans in Serbia something to wait for, but it was unclear to most whether this was actually a real opportunity, or whether they were just waiting for something that was illusory, as chances of actually being allowed into Hungary have seriously declined. (7)

Though psychologically still on their way to Western Europe, some Afghans were slowly starting to consider alternatives – none of which were very attractive or offered much hope of success. Photography: Martine van Bijlert

It was also clear that many Afghans now realised that even if they did reach Western Europe, their journey might still not be over, as asylum requests often fail and deportations – whether back to Afghanistan or a third country – are on the rise (see also this recent AAN analysis). In the Belgrade squat, AAN encountered several deportees and Dublin cases (the latter are those who are returned to their first known point of entry within the EU; Bulgaria in most cases). A Pashto-speaking Pakistani, for instance, who tried to practice what was left of his French, had been sent back to Afghanistan from Belgium and had since managed to make his way back to Serbia.

Although several men in the squat said they were determined to continue their journey (“Germany or death”), it was clear that many were quietly considering other options: a prolonged stay in Serbia, travel to another transit country or a return to Afghanistan.

The asylum system in Serbia is largely untested. Chances of success are slim and there are no real policies yet in place for the integration of those who might be accepted. The appetite to actually request asylum in Serbia, therefore, has remained limited. A profiling exercise by Asylum Office staff in early 2017 (referenced here on p 11) established that out of 8,000 migrants staying in the centres, only up to 130 people wanted to apply for asylum. Interest may have increased somewhat since then, but so far actual applications are few and are often discontinued. (8)

For those who were – reluctantly – considering returning to Afghanistan, the International Organisation for Migration (IOM) offers the Assisted Voluntary Return (AVR) program. (9) According to IOM Serbia, interest was high, and growing. However, in the first four months of 2017 only three Afghans returned to Afghanistan from Serbia through the AVR program. Although many Afghans expressed an interest in AVR, most of them did not follow through with the process, either because they changed their minds or were not quite ready to give up yet. (According to IOM Serbia, eleven Afghans signed a consent form in the first three months of the year; four immediately dropped out and of the remaining seven, only three finally showed up for the Skype interview with the Afghan Embassy in Sofia). Secondly, and more importantly, the Afghan Embassy staff in Sofia, after the first three Skype interviews, told IOM they no longer wanted to do interviews online (and have so far offered no alternative methods to conduct interviews or issue travel documents). As a result, IOM still advertises the programme but, for the moment, can do little for those who no longer have travel documents.

A new alternative option that surfaced was to travel to other ‘transit countries’ where people believed conditions might be better and/or chances for work greater. In particular Greece was mentioned. The trip to Greece, facilitated by smugglers, was said to cost around 1-2,000 euros. Alternatively, those without money could try to be expelled to Macedonia and then make their own way to the Greek border.

We were still asked, both in the squat and in the camps, whether Europe would open its borders again. Migrants found it hard to believe that the EU would leave them in limbo and not come to their aid. Practically everyone we talked to was tired and out of money. Though psychologically still ‘in transit’ and on their way to Western Europe, some were slowly starting to consider alternatives – none of which were very attractive or offered much hope of success.

Both in the squat and in the camps, people repeatedly asked whether Europe would open its borders again. They found it hard to believe that the EU would leave them in limbo like this. Photography: Martine van Bijlert

(1) Estimates of both the total number of migrants in Serbia and those living outside the centres varied. UNHCR, according to an early May 2017 report, had counted a total of 7,219 refugees, asylum seekers and migrants. This figure included around 1,200 refugees and migrants (mostly Afghans and Pakistanis) who were “sleeping rough” in Belgrade city, an estimated 200 of which were unaccompanied minors. Several aid workers in Serbia, however, told AAN they believed the actual total number to be closer to 10,000, with an estimated 2-3,000 people staying outside the government-run centres. This report by the Belgrade Center for Human Rights (BCHR) also indicated that Asylum Office staff believed there were around 8,000 people living in the centres in early 2017 (p 11).

(2) In early 2017, UNHCR estimated the squat had a population of 850 to 950 people; but volunteers working in Belgrade said they believed the numbers to be closer to 1,300-1,500. Getting an accurate number of the people living in the sprawling barracks was complicated by the fact that they tended to move in and out. Many men and boys spent their days in town, returning only at night to sleep, while others visited the squat during the day and took a shuttle bus back to the nearby government-run centres in the evening.

(3) The Serbian authorities also acted in the north and the west of the country, close to the Hungarian and Croatian borders. In April 2017 the authorities said they had detained 200 “illegal migrants” who were staying in the forests near Šid and that they had “unburdened” the city’s local reception in response to “unpleasant events that migrants took part in.” (According to local reports a foreign man with an axe had entered a house and had threatened the children who were home alone. According to Commissariat officials and aid workers, however, the man had been part of an initiative that sought to integrate migrants by having them do errands for local people, such as chopping wood. They said the man had neither threatened nor robbed anyone, and that the incident had either been a misunderstanding or an intentional exaggeration).

(4) The man had just moved to Subotica in northern Serbia to wait for his turn on the ‘Hungary List’ (see further on in the text), which was supposed to be imminent. He said he had also registered for IOM’s Assisted Voluntary Return program, but had not yet heard back. He was not very optimistic about the chances. Others, he said, had already been waiting for several months to be repatriated, and these were people who did have documents (he had ‘lost’ his tazkera or Afghan identity card, in Bulgaria.) He was also unsure of his chances in Hungary, as he was likely to be kept in a closed camp there, which would prevent him and his son from travelling onwards.

(5) Aid workers, on the other hand, considered the Preševo reception centre a model camp, with the highest level of services. Originally established as a one-stop-shop for the humanitarian corridor’s mass transit, the centre had since been rigorously refurbished and expanded to accommodate longer-term stays. This was a big change that took a while to be implemented. An aid worker described how the lagging procurement meant that for months the camp’s inhabitants had received three meals of canned tuna and biscuits per day – food that had only been suitable for people on the move.

(6) A young man from Jalalabad, for instance, who had arrived in Serbia in early January 2017, told us he had tried to enter Croatia twice, and Hungary once. Now, he said, his smuggler was no longer answering the phone and had blocked him on Facebook. He was trying to get more money to find a new smuggler, but was not very hopeful, as his father was a simple sharecropper [dehqan] in Afghanistan. One of his friends said he had attempted eight ‘games’  or illegal crossings so far, including once to Romania, but unsuccessfully each time. Another man, who had been in Serbia for over a year, said he had “hit the game” twenty times, but that might have been an exaggeration. He said he spent a few days in Hungary once, but was detected and sent back. Now with the Hungarian border practically sealed he was unsure whether it was still worth trying.

A boy of around sixteen told us his father had arranged a ‘guaranteed’ trip from Kabul to Europe for him – a higher-end version of the journey, supposedly with less hardship and a greater chance of success – but the smuggler had given him the cheaper ‘chocolati’ version instead. He had spent a total of eleven months in Bulgaria (seven of which in detention) and eight months in Serbia. Now the smuggler had left him completely. He tried to cross the Croatian border once by train without outside help, but he and his friends were discovered by another passenger, who called the police.

(7) The latter – waiting for something that is illusory – seems to be the case. Asylum requests in Hungary are routinely denied based on the fact that Serbia is considered a “safe third country.” Moreover, asylum seekers are, in principle, no longer allowed to enter Hungary when they lodge their claim; instead their request is processed while they are kept in containers in ‘transit zones’ at the border. (According to an adviser to the government this does not constitute detention, as asylum seekers are “allowed to leave the transit zone for Serbia at any time.”)

The list system itself is fairly opaque. New names are passed on to the Hungarian authorities, after which Hungary includes some, but not all, names on a numbered waiting list (usually, we were told, an estimated 20 to 30 names per week are included). Once a week the numbers of those whose turn is near are announced, after which they travel to the reception centre in Subotica in the north and then onwards to the transit zone.

(8) In the first quarter of 2017, the Asylum Office received 92 asylum applications and
interviewed 44 people. No protection statuses were granted. One case was dismissed on its merits and 35 cases were dismissed or discontinued because the people in question had left Serbia or had withdrawn from the asylum procedure. For those who continue their application, chances are slim. According to the Belgrade Center for Human Rights (BCHR), the Asylum Office tends to automatically apply the safe third country concept. Since the Asylum Act came into force almost a decade ago (in 2008), asylum has been granted in 41 cases and subsidiary protection in 49 cases. Moreover, as noted by the Belgrade Center for Human Rights (BCHR):

[Serbia] still lacks a clearly defined migration policy. Over the past few years, it has been taking in foreigners, who have not regulated their legal status and have no intention of settling down in Serbia. Although the state officials have told the media that Serbia had vowed “to its international partners to secure 6,000 strong, solid beds” for the accommodation of the migrants, it remains unclear in which specific enactment the state has assumed the obligation and how it reflects on the migrants’ legal status and their realization of their rights.”

(9) In 2016, IOM assisted 6,864 individuals to return to Afghanistan through its AVR program, by far most of them from Germany. See this earlier AAN dispatch for details (under “voluntary returns”) and this IOM report for the 2016 figures.

With some borders shared with EU countries that are trying to keep migrants and asylum seekers out, Serbia finds itself increasingly home to people who want to travel onwards but are unable to do so. An estimated eight to ten thousand migrants – most of them Afghans – who intended to travel on to Western Europe are now stuck in Serbia, with more still trickling in. AAN’s Jelena Bjelica and Martine van Bijlert visited the country’s southern and eastern borders, where they found the old smuggling routes through the Balkans still very much alive. They also looked at the country’s northern and western borders and at how migrants and their smugglers are trying to deal with the EU’s efforts to seal off all entry points.

This research on Afghan migration to Europe was supported by a grant from the Open Society Foundations.

Between 2015 and 2017, the movement of people through the Balkans changed significantly. In 2015 and early 2016, an estimated 5,000 to 8,000 people passed each day through what was then called the Balkan ‘humanitarian corridor.’ The corridor first stretched from Greece to Serbia, from where people were ferried on by the Serbian authorities, to its borders with EU member countries. In September 2015, after Hungary fenced off its border (see previous AAN reporting here and Map 1 below), the flow of people was redirected to Serbia’s northwestern border with Croatia. By March 2016 the Balkan corridor was closed. In February 2016 Croatia closed its border and on 20 March 2016, a deal between the EU and the government in Ankara, that aimed to stop the flow of people from Turkey, came into force. Although people continued to arrive in Serbia, brought by smugglers and their facilitators, the flow out of the country was greatly diminished.

As a result, the number of migrants in Serbia increased almost fourfold throughout 2016, from 2,000 in March to 7,550 in December, according to figures provided by the European Commission. The increase was mainly due to the continued flow from Bulgaria and the Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia, despite increased Serbian border controls from July 2016 onwards (Serbia claims to have, since then, prevented the irregular entry of 21,000 people.) The outflow of people to the north and the west diminished as strict Hungarian legal restrictions that came into force in mid-2016 (see previous AAN reporting here) and again, more recently, in early 2017. Estimates vary, but there are probably currently between 8-10,000 migrants stuck in Serbia, most of whom still wish to travel onwards. (1)

Map 1: The Balkan humanitarian corridor, November 2015 to February 2016. Credit: Free map downloaded from d-maps.com, arrows added by AAN.

AAN visited Serbia’s southern and southeastern borders, which are the two main borders from where migrants try to enter Serbia: from Macedonia in the south and Bulgaria in the east (see Map 2 below.) We also spoke to aid workers and volunteers who work at the ‘outbound’ borders, from where migrants try to leave Serbia to get into Hungary to the north, Croatia to the northwest and Romania to the northeast.

Map 2: Migration routes in the Balkans, 2017. Credit: Free map downloaded from d-maps.com, arrows added by AAN.

The southern border with Macedonia

The 62 kilometre-long border between Serbia and Macedonia has two officials crossings: Preševo and Prohor Pčinjski. The Preševo border crossing played an important role in the Balkan humanitarian corridor (see earlier AAN analysis.) The authorities established a large transit centre here (which is now a reception centre for migrants and asylum seekers staying in Serbia.) The “green” border between the two countries – the areas without official border crossings – is hilly and much of it is wooded. Villages that used to be in the same country – Yugoslavia – are still connected by small roads. The western part of the green border is inhabited by ethnic Albanians, a minority with deep grudges against the Slav majority in both Serbia and Macedonia. They have kept the hidden smuggling pathways through the surrounding hills and woods alive, both in practice and in the local knowledge. (2)

In April 2017 AAN visited two villages in Macedonia famous for smuggling: Vaksince and Lojane. Lojane in particular, which is in the Lipkovo municipality, is well located and well connected, with many paths leading to the Serbian village of Miratovac in the Preševo municipality (the two villages are only a few kilometres apart) and many families having members on both sides of the border. The villages swiftly opted for catering to the influx of refugees and migrants. In February 2016 German broadcaster Deutsche Welle (DW) reported on the involvement of the villagers in Lojane, who were said to rent out rooms and barns (a room for around 10 euros per night, or a place in a barn going for half that price.) AAN was told that people in transit could also sometimes stay in the local mosque or in ‘wild camps’ in the surrounding hills – in caves, abandoned buildings or the open air.

AAN visited the office of the Macedonian NGO Legis in Lojane village, which documents and supports migrants in transit, whether they are arriving from elsewhere in Macedonia and getting ready to cross into Serbia, or being pushed back from Serbia by the authorities there. Legis offers basic support such as blankets, clothes and (baby) food, and documents the migrants they encounter in an attempt to keep track of the flow of people and of how they are treated. They register three categories in their database: migrants travelling towards Serbia, migrants who have been kept out of Serbia (within days of entry and without having reached a reception centre or town) and migrants who have been ‘expelled’ (after they entered deeper into Serbia, reached a camp where they were registered, or stayed three or more days in the country).

In the seven-month period after it began its registration (25 August 2016 to 31 March 2017), Legis registered a total of 3,911 refugees/migrants in transit through the Lipkovo municipality. Of this number, 1,041 – or 26 per cent – were Afghan. The figures, which represent only the people Legis encountered (not the total number of people on the move), are shown in Table 1 below.

Not all those who were registered as being on an onward journey into Serbia represented new arrivals from Greece, as many had been pushed back from Serbia earlier and were now trying to re-enter. A Legis staff member explained that many people try to enter Serbia many times: “We registered a case of one Afghan family … that was pushed back from Serbia [four] times. We first registered the family in December [2016] when they were on their way to Serbia. Then we saw them again in January [2017], after they had been pushed back. A month later they again reappeared in Lojane. And now our volunteer saw them again a couple of days ago [in late April 2017].”

Credit: Legis report for the period August 2016 – March 2017.

When AAN visited the other well-known Macedonian smuggling village, Vaksince, a couple of kilometres to the south of Lojane, we met a Pakistani man in a local café. He told us he was travelling in a group of five (three Pakistanis, one Bangladeshi and a Sri Lankan) and had recently been pushed back from Serbia. The five were staying in caves in the hills above Vaksince and were waiting for a night time opportunity to cross into Serbia again. The local owner of the coffee shop joined in the conversation, explaining how the Pakistani had lost track of his brother earlier while trying to cross the Serbian–Hungarian border (his brother had managed to cross, while the man we spoke to was found and sent back to Serbia. After that, the Serbian police sent him back to Macedonia).

The involvement of the inhabitants of Lojane and Vaksince in smuggling as well as their provision of transport and shelter was highlighted when another local customer walked in and joined in the conversation. He complained that the smugglers would often drop migrants in the middle of nowhere, practically forcing “local youths to give them a ride, simply to be helpful.” And then, he added, the police would harass them and accuse them of helping the smugglers. Later, it turned out the man’s son had been convicted of migrant smuggling and was currently in prison (the sentence for this offence can be up to five years).

Although locals are involved in their immediate environment, the main facilitators and organisers of onward journeys tend to be Afghans or Pakistani. Some of these people are well established in the local communities and, AAN was told, have been living in the villages for many years and often speak Macedonian or Albanian (see this European Commission case study from 2015 on the smuggling of migrants between Greece, Macedonia, Serbia and Hungary.) These Afghan and Pakistani smugglers are apparently so familiar with the region that they can navigate the routes without much help, leaving markings in the woods to guide groups that cross the border during the night. Such markings are well camouflaged to the untrained eye, and often look like rubbish or random pieces of string.

This smuggling network thus stretched all the way from the Albanian villages in Macedonia across Serbia to the north, including a brick factory in the northern town of Subotica. The factory, until recently, used to be a rest stop for migrants hoping to cross into Hungary.

The southern borders with Kosovo and Montenegro

There have been occasional reports of migrants crossing into Serbia from Kosovo and Montenegro – in particular, after the closure of the Balkan humanitarian corridor. However, so far in 2017, the number of people using this route has not been significant.

Both countries, though, could potentially become alternative routes for migrants, if the way through Albania, which lies to the south of both Kosovo and Montenegro, were to reopen for migrant smuggling (see Map 2 above.) In the past, notably during the 1990s, the sea route between Albania and Italy (the narrowest sea point between the two coasts on the Adriatic Sea) was a famous migrant smuggling route, when speedboats carried mainly Albanian migrants to the European Union, ferrying dozens of people across every day. According to local accounts, this route is now mainly used for drug smuggling, such as marihuana, but it is not inconceivable that it could once again be used for smuggling migrants.

The eastern border with Bulgaria

The 318 kilometre-long border between Serbia and Bulgaria is mainly mountainous and very porous. Like the Serbian–Macedonian border, it has a long history of migrant smuggling and human trafficking. In the early 2000s, thousands of Bulgarian women fell victim to (mainly Bulgarian) human traffickers, and were taken to Western Europe. As the networks grew and started to include smaller networks along the route to the European Union, the Bulgarian traffickers also started specialising in smuggling migrants.

According to this 2016 EUPOL study on migrant smuggling in the EU, among European nationals, Bulgarians are the most often identified as migrant smugglers. Although the smugglers usually live in Bulgaria (they may also live in Hungary, Greece, Austria or Italy), they control networks that operate much farther afield: in Germany, Hungary, Switzerland, UK and the Netherlands. According to the EUPOL study, Afghans and Pakistanis are often incorporated into these groups and act as facilitators between their fellow nationals and the local smuggling networks.

Another DW story about Afghan smugglers in Bulgaria offers insights into how this works in practice. It describes how Asif, a 25-year old Afghan, had been recruited by smugglers in Milan who needed a Dari-speaker. Asif’s job was to wait for people in the park in the Bulgarian capital, Sofia, and direct them to a taxi that would bring them close to the border with Serbia. From that point onwards, the migrants would be guided by a GPS tracking device. Asif also made sure the families in Afghanistan paid the organisation via their local hawalas. (The EUPOL study estimated that in 2015, 20 per cent of the smuggling arrangements into the EU were paid via an alternative banking, ie the hawala system).

Indicators on the number of people entering Serbia from the Bulgarian side varied. According to this blog ‘thousands of people’ left Bulgaria during the first three months of 2017 (the numbers cited for February were, however, much lower than for January, and March was even lower.) The Bulgarian Ministry of Interior reported that in February 2017 (report available here in Bulgarian) the authorities had detained 1,022 migrants on the border with Serbia (on the Bulgarian–Turkish border, only 120 migrants had been apprehended in the same period).

In 2016, Afghans made up over half of the 18,884 migrants that were apprehended by the Bulgarian authorities, with close to 14,000 migrants of all nationalities caught at the Bulgarian-Serbian border (see here and also this Bulgarian Ministry of Interior report from December 2016).

Once migrants have crossed the Bulgarian border into Serbia, local logistical support in terms of transportation to the capital Belgrade is apparently provided by local Serbs. Thus, the journey to the next facilitator, located in Belgrade or to the north, in Subotica, continues.

The northern border with Hungary

As a member of the EU, Hungary has been a primary focus for migrants trying to reach Western Europe through the Balkans (see previous AAN reporting here and here.) Its importance as a main entry point into the EU sharply diminished after it implemented a series of harsh measures aimed at sealing off its border with Serbia. First it built a border fence in September 2015. Then it introduced stricter legal measures in July 2016, which allowed for swifter and more rigorous pushbacks of those who still managed to enter the country (see also the EU’s monthly report on migration for December 2016, the section on Hungary, p 77).

The Hungarian fence is located five metres from the actual border inside Hungary, AAN was told. This means that those who are pushed back are technically still on Hungarian soil. Those caught between the fence and the border have thus technically not been expelled, but in practice they have no choice but to return to Serbia.

Organisations that monitor pushbacks from Hungary have noted that these have often been accompanied by acts of violence and humiliation (there have been accusations of beatings, being bitten by dogs, and forced undressing.) (3) This peaked in late 2016 and early 2017, but since then the violence seems to have subsided somewhat.

In March 2017, Hungary further tightened its asylum laws, introducing mandatory detention, which, according to the United Nations, violates EU law. In late April 2017 it erected a second border fence, despite opposition from the UN, human rights groups and a European court ruling (for more background, see here). The second fence, with sensors, alarms and regular patrols, has greatly complicated irregular entry into the country (making it largely dependent on collusion between smugglers and those in charge of border controls).

For those who do manage to enter Hungary, it has become much more difficult to stay, due to the harshening of the country’s asylum laws. Based on a law adopted in June 2016, the police has been authorised to push back ‘irregular migrants’ who are found up to eight kilometres from the border (the so-called ‘Eight Kilometre Law’.) On 28 March 2017, Hungary adopted an expanded version of its ‘deeper border control policy’, according to which anyone without papers could be expelled from anywhere in the country – without being given a chance to request asylum. Asylum requests based on the new law are only accepted if they are made in the so-called ‘transit zones’ between Hungary and Serbia by people who, technically, have not been allowed on Hungarian soil yet. (For more details on the new 2017 law, see updates by the Hungarian Helsinki Committee here and here). A summary of the 2016 legislative changes can be found here).

Since June 2016, once the ‘Eight Kilometre Law’ came into force, 19,219 migrants have been prevented from entering Hungary, pushed back to Serbia or escorted back to the border (see this case study by the Hungarian Helsinki Committee). Between January and March of this year, 7,673 people have been registered by the Hungarian Helsinki Committee as being denied entry. Throughout March 2017 as the second layer of fencing was nearing its completion and with the tougher asylum law in place, the number of pushbacks from Hungary has gone down (see the joint InfoPark and the Hungarian Helsinki Committee graph 1 below).

Graph 1: InfoPark

In late May 2017, however, the number of pushbacks drastically increased again, according to figures that InfoPark obtained from the Hungarian police (see graph 2 below). Aid workers in Belgrade believe this increase may well be linked to the mass eviction and relocation in mid-May 2017 of the city’s large squat, where up to a thousand migrants, mainly Afghans and Pakistanis, had been living (for details see here). Although many of its former inhabitants were moved to government-run centres, others may be redoubling their efforts to cross the borders.

Graph 2: InfoPark

Similar evictions and rounding-up of migrants have also taken place along Serbia’s border with Hungary. Since 2015, these areas have accommodated groups of migrants on their way to the north. An abandoned brick factory in Subotica, for instance, has been an important rest stop for migrants on the Balkan route since 2015 (for pictures see here and here). More recently, during the winter months of 2016/2017, single men and unaccompanied minors who had not been admitted or had not wanted to go into the nearby reception centres had been squatting there. Others who had come from other parts of the country stayed here while they waited to join groups who were trying to cross the border.

At the beginning of 2017, the number of people in the brick factory apparently swelled, as people tried to cross into Hungary before the amendments in the asylum law came into force. Many facilitators and smugglers moved north as well. Between October 2016 and March 2017, the Serbian police carried out at least five coordinated raids on the brick factory and in nearby woods (for an overview see this report by the Croatian refugee aid organisation Are You Syrious). Following each raid, buses loaded with migrants, and in one instance even a train, took those who had been caught to the Preševo camp on the southern border with Macedonia.

After a recent sell-off of state property, the brick factory was slated for demolition (see this Serbian news report from 1 March 2017, and a sixth raid on the brick factory and nearby woods in April 2017 forcibly evicted the remaining inhabitants from the building. Many were transported to government-run centres or went deeper into the woods to hide. Aid workers in the area told AAN in late April 2017 that only a handful of people were left and that almost no one had been showing up for the regular free lunch distribution organised by international volunteers. It is unclear whether the migrants will return, particularly since the Hungarian border has become so difficult to cross now (see also the other AAN analysis).

The northwest border with Croatia

With the ever-tightening border controls on the Hungarian side, migrants are now setting their sights on Croatia again (for the situation on the Serbian–Croatian border in 2015 and 2016 see previous AAN reporting here and here).

In April 2017, AAN heard from several Afghans who had tried to cross into Croatia that hiding in lorries or under trucks had become a mode of travel (see also this Serbian language report on the apprehension of ten Afghans found in lorry at the border crossing between Serbia and Croatia on 6 March 2017). The migrants’ increasingly desperate attempts to cross into Croatia have only increased since Hungary erected its second fence. This is also indicated by the rise in the number of expulsions from Croatia (often in groups, see UNHCR data for the first week of May 2017 here).

Police attitudes towards migrants have hardened on both sides of the Serbian-Croatian border, and there are now consistent reports of human rights violations at the border. Human Rights Watch, for instance, interviewed ten Afghans, including two unaccompanied children, who described being forced back into Serbia after being apprehended on Croatian territory, without being allowed to lodge asylum claims even though they requested to do so. Nine out of ten said the officers had kicked and punched them, all of them said the officers had taken personal items, including money and mobile phones. In April 2017, the Croatian refugee aid organisation, Are You Syrious, also reported that 72 asylum-seekers had been collectively expelled from Croatia to Serbia, without being granted access to asylum procedures, after having entered Croatia irregularly (see here). The reports sound very similar to earlier descriptions of mistreatment by Bulgarian and Hungarian authorities, indicating how almost all border crossings have become hazardous.

An Afghan boy having just returned from his latest attempt to cross the Croatian border shows his hands that were injured by thorns and branches during his trek through the forest. Belgrade, April 2017. Photography: Martine van Bijlert

AAN met an Afghan group in the squat in Belgrade in April 2017 who had just returned from the Serbian–Croatian border. They had thorn cuts on their hands from trying to cross through the forest. They said the group consisting of 15 men had been found and beaten by the Serbian police. A man who tried to cross into Croatia with a different group sported a cast on his arm. He had jumped off a lorry to try to avoid detection.

Near the border with Croatia, groups of migrants were squatting, as had been the case at the border with Hungary in the north. According to a volunteer working there, there had been around 100 people gathered close to the town of Šid on the Serbian side, in April 2017. After harsh treatment by the Serbian police, most people had moved to the woods to camp out there. They are now reportedly constantly on the move, apparently even afraid to cook outdoors for fear of attracting attention (see the footnote 3 in this companion dispatch for more details on the situation in Šid).

The northeastern border with Romania

After Hungary sealed its border and toughened its immigrant legislation and police attitudes towards migrants hardened in Croatia, interest shifted to getting into Romania.

The border between Romania and Serbia is 476 kilometres long, 134 of which are marked by the River Danube that goes through the Iron Gates gorge, which is difficult to cross. This border has recently not been used much for illegal migration into the EU, as Romania’s geographical location makes a detour through the eastern fringes of the EU necessary – a route that, moreover, would still lead through Hungary (see also previous AAN reporting here). Nevertheless, the human infrastructure for migrant smuggling is present with robust human trafficking networks to and from Romania, which date back to the 1990s and early 2000s.

Official statistics show an increase in attempted irregular entries from Serbia into Romania since August 2016, although numbers are still relatively low compared to entries into Hungary and Croatia (the highest number of apprehensions by Romanian police – 112 – was reported in December 2016. The number of pushbacks from Romania is also on the increase. According to an international volunteer based in Serbia who recently visited Romania, there are also reports of mistreatment by the Romanian police who are said to be beating and threatening people.

As the least used route until now, it was still unknown territory for the Afghan migrants we spoke to. There were anecdotal stories of people who had recently made it through – one Afghan we spoke to said he had friends who had managed to reach Austria through the Romanian-Hungarian border, while others reported bad treatment by the Romanian police and failed attempts to cross this border. In general, it was clear that the details of the route, and its chances of success were still largely unknown. It is also not clear what the official Romanian response will be.

Still, Romania’s geographical location makes for a longer and more expensive journey. This is not an attractive prospect for most people stuck in Belgrade, who have spent all their money and are exhausted.

Changes in movement patterns and policies

The flow of migrants through Serbia so far in 2017 seems to be close to the levels seen prior to the refugee crisis of 2015/16. New but also more complicated routes are being tested, such as the one described via Romania, but it seems unlikely they will become busy in the same way that routes through Hungary and Croatia have been in the past.

Available statistics show that the number of entries into Serbia from the south and east are still higher than the number of exits to the north and the northwest, meaning that the number of refugees stuck in the country continues to grow. On the one hand, the total number of migrants entering and exiting Serbia is much less than the hundreds of thousands of people who crossed its borders in 2015 and 2016. The change in policies in the region, including harsher border controls or, as in the Hungarian case, the total closure of its border with Serbia, has virtually halted the flow of migrants through Serbia into the EU. But the new measures have left almost 10,000 people stuck there, wondering what to do (for more details, see this companion dispatch).

Edited by Kate Clark

(1) Official estimates of the number of migrants in Serbia vary. UNHCR, according to a report in early May 2017 counted a total of 7,219 refugees, asylum seekers and migrants. This figure included around 1,200 refugees and migrants (mostly Afghans and Pakistanis) who were “sleeping rough” in Belgrade city, an estimated 200 of whom were unaccompanied minors. Several aid workers in Serbia, however, told AAN they believed the actual total number to be closer to 10,000, with an estimated 2,000 people staying outside the government-run centres. This report by the Belgrade Centre for Human Rights (BCHR) also indicated that Asylum Office staff believed there were around 8,000 people living in the centres alone, in early 2017 (p 11)  (see also this companion dispatch here).

(2) The area has been a key smuggling channel in the Balkans for a long time. In the 1990s and early 2000s, many victims of human trafficking were smuggled via the Macedonian–Serbian border. During the UN sanctions against Milosevic’s Yugoslavia (from 1992 to 1996), oil and goods not readily available were also smuggled into Serbia through this border.

(3) In March 2017, The Guardian reported Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) calling on Hungary to investigate an increasing number of allegations of “widespread and systematic” violence by the police. MSF based its accusations on the fact that it had provided medical treatment to 106 migrants, including 22 minors, for injuries caused by beatings, dog bites and pepper spray in 2016. Hungarian authorities dismissed the account as baseless, the newspaper reported. See also previous AAN reporting from November 2016, here.

As part of their review of military strategy in Afghanistan, both President Ashraf Ghani and the Commander of United States and NATO forces in Afghanistan, General John Nicholson, have honed in on the Ministry of Interior as a critical weakness in the government’s fight against the Taleban. The Afghan National Police, a paramilitary force, is more likely than the army to be on the frontline, guarding the population against attack. Yet corruption continues to bedevil it, draining resources and diminishing morale. Both men believe that reform of the MoI – eliminating or at least reducing corruption – is central to turning the war against the Taleban around. AAN’s Kate Clark looks at what they are up against.

This is part two in a mini-series of dispatches looking at military strategy. The first assessed the state of the conflict and options facing the United States and Afghan governments. This dispatch focuses on an issue which both see as central to getting a battlefield advantage over the Taleban: reform of the MoI.

The research for this dispatch was supported by a grant from the Open Society Foundations. 

On 8 May 2017, President Ghani called the Ministry of Interior (MoI) “the heart of corruption in the security sector” and said cleaning it up would be his focus this year. He reiterated his resolve during his opening speech at the Kabul Process conference on 6 June 2017:

Let me summarize the [reforms] most relevant to peace. The key to our negotiating credibility will be whether we succeed in reforming our security sector. I have said elsewhere and I will repeat again here that the cutting edge for our security reform strategy is whether we succeed in reforming the Ministry of Interior.

General Nicholson, in turn, in his testimony to Congress in February 2017, said corruption – in appointments, in the supply chain and in paying salaries ­– was one reason for high casualty rates in the ANSF; it is draining resources, he said, and undermining combat effectiveness.

Nicholson was referring to both the MoI and the Ministry of Defence (MoD), and both the ANP and the Afghan National Army (ANA). However, the ANA, set up mostly from scratch as a national, multi-ethnic and non-factional body, was never as captured by factional or criminal interests as the ANP, which developed out of anti-Taleban armed groups who seized provinces and districts in 2001. “In the Ministry of Defence, the problem is contracts,” one senior American officer told AAN. “In the MoI, it is everything.” As to what that ‘everything’ might be, a useful list was given in the 2016 Bilateral Financial Commitment (seen by AAN) signed by the MoI and the part of the NATO mission which oversees and administers security funding, the Combined Security Transition Command–Afghanistan, better known as CSTC-A:

The term “corruption” refers to instances in which an official or employee in a position of power or authority misuses that position, either for personal gain or other wrongful motive. Corrupt acts include: misappropriation of resources, embezzlement, accepting or offering bribes, “bid-rigging” (which is the award of a contract under fraudulent or dishonest conditions, usually in exchange for a “kick-back” fee or other personal gain), trading in influence (which is when a person makes an official decision or action in exchange for a fee or other personal gain), obstruction of justice, and other abuses of position and wrongful enrichment.

Corruption in the MoI actually goes beyond this to what the United Nations Office of Drugs and Crime (UNODC) calls ‘grand corruption’ ie using government positions for perpetrating crime, such as racketeering, extortion, smuggling and involvement in narcotics. (1)

Appointments and the economy of the MoI

Many authors have described how the nexus of the problems in the MoI is how appointments are made. In November 2014, AAN had a frank discussion on the subject with then Minister of Interior Omar Daudzai. He revealed that he set aside every Wednesday afternoon – a tenth of his official working week – to receive MPs who were petitioning him for jobs for friends, family and clients. This was not the only time he saw MPs. Some who were “friendly,” he said, would come every day, some with scheduled meetings, others not. He also had to see jihadi leaders, cabinet members and others, all also lobbying for positions for their clients. Although he claimed he had stamped out the practice of posts being bought and sold in the ministry (more on which, below), he did admit that he had failed to withstand political pressure and personal connections. (2)

The pressure to appoint the clients of the well-connected goes beyond the interior ministry – President Ghani in his inaugural speech asked MPs not to have private meetings with any ministers. However, in the MoI, the ‘economy of appointments’ is probably the best developed. Even lower grade jobs are for sale, and for posts in big cities or with good money-making potential, for example in opium-growing areas or with control of border crossings, the prices, in dollars, are reportedly in the five or six figures. (3) One study by Integrity Watch of the Kabul police in 2015 described  “a cycle of corruption and impunity, in which police officers have strong incentives to engage in corrupt practices in order to secure their current positions and ensure their prospect of next posts.” The system rests on intermediaries, the authors said, who bring together offers and demands for MoI positions. “Typically an up-front payment is required,” it quoted one respondent as saying, “followed by regular monthly payments.”

The consequences are clear: if positions are paid for, the expense needs to be recouped and that, almost inevitably, means police involvement in crime, including racketeering and drug smuggling, and/or making money from the ministry itself. This ranges from crooked contracts and pocketing the salaries of policemen who do not exist, to so-called ‘ghost policemen’. One advisor at the MoI, speaking to the author in 2010, described the system as “a vertically-integrated corruption syndicate” which “is not like a standard patronage system where money flows down in exchange for loyalty; rather, officials on the periphery move money upwards, in exchange for licence [to commit crimes].”

Integrity Watch pointed out that an integral part of this system is protection for criminal activities, ie immunity from prosecution:

…[T]his then allows the extortion and collecting the resources that are then channelled back (in form of periodic payments or fees for buying the next post) to those who make the appointments and ensure job security for these officers. This is a self-perpetuating system since all actors depend on each other for the benefits that they receive and do not have incentives not to play with the rules of this system. In fact, police officers who engage more in corrupt practices seem more likely to secure better positions since they can afford buying it.

The impact of corruption

In many areas, police are, along with teachers, the ‘face’ of the state, the government employees Afghan citizens are most likely to encounter. When they extort money from travellers and protection money from shopkeepers and landlords, the legitimacy of the state is poisoned. (For detail on bribe-taking and how a proportion of the money gets channelled up to senior ranks, see the Integrity Watch report cited earlier.)

The way that corruption also prevents the ANP from being an effective fighting force should be obvious. Corruption depletes resources. This is especially damaging to those on the frontline where shortages of ammunition, equipment, fuel and even food have been reported (see, for example, here and here). Creating ghost policemen means a depletion of forces not obvious until a crisis occurs. Appointing people at mid and senior ranks on the basis of payments or political connections undermines leadership, especially if those individuals consider their posts to be ‘dual use’, for making money, alongside their regular ministry or policing duties. As for those in the lower ranks, it is difficult to imagine why they would fight and die when they see the leadership enriching itself. One searing piece by Reuters in 2016 on the high numbers of police and soldiers leaving the ANA and ANP described how:

The army has been running adverts on prime-time television that show inspiring images of resolute soldiers on training exercises, eating in well-stocked mess halls and with good kit.

But on the frontlines, army and police deserters complain of commanders having no answer for deadly ambushes, no broader strategy for prevailing in the war, corruption among their leaders and poor food and equipment. “Barely a day passed without gunfire, ambushes, roadside bombs,” said Farooq, a police officer from Helmand province, who quit his job three months ago. “We were treated as if we had no value and our job was to get killed.”

In such circumstances, ANP abandoning their posts or making no-fight deals with the Taleban appears rational.

One telling example of how corruption can play out to the detriment of the lower ranks can be seen in the persistence of the use of static checkposts by ANP and ANA, despite a direct correlation with higher ANSF casualties (as reported by NATO’s Resolute Support mission). Deploying a few policemen or soldiers to each of many, spread-out checkposts (the ANP has 7,300 and the ANA 1,110 static checkposts nationwide) leaves those police and soldiers vulnerable to attack, while doing little to protect the local population or territory and complicating supplies and reinforcements. Yet, the move to consolidate checkposts into larger, defensible platoon-sized (tolai) bases has been met with resistance:

… local commanders are reticent to consolidate checkpoints because, in some instances, they provide the commanders with illicit income. Beyond the resistance from provincial governors and local powerbrokers, senior MoD and MoI leaders have been either unwilling or unable to enforce President Ghani’s continued directives to posture the force more effectively and to reduce reliance on static positions.

The role of the donors

The donors should have a lot of clout. They largely pay for the ANSF, with the US contributing the vast bulk of the money: 4.5 billion US dollars a year, compared with one billion from other countries and half a billion from Afghanistan. The Law and Order Trust Fund (LOTFA), a multi-donor mechanism administered by the United Nations Development Fund (UNDP) has, since 2001, been channelling donor money to the Ministry of Finance for “funding police salaries, improving police capacity and developing systems within the Ministry of Interior Affairs.”

The historical role of the donors has been questionable. The US, in particular, has been criticised for its push to expand an un-reformed ANP from 2007 onwards. The reasons was the US’ desire to get more boots on the ground to fight the Taleban at all cost, leading to a focus on the quantity of policemen, rather than quality, and to a paramilitary, rather than a civilian force. Battlefield expediency, then and since, has, too often, meant the US military turning a blind eye to corruption and abuses (see for example here, here and here).

The senior US military leadership now seems to have realised the importance of reforming the MoI and the MoD, if the Afghan state is to have a chance in defending territory against the Taleban. This looks to be a practical realisation, similar to the decision in 2009 to reduce civilian casualties because they were harming America’s war effort. By contrast, during the last serious attempt at reform of the MoI in 2005-7 (which is looked at in detail below), those involved reported the US military as sometimes being indifferent or hostile to reform. Now there seems to be a genuine recognition by US officers and diplomats that corrupt and incompetent leaders are directly harming ANSF morale and their ability to fight.

As to how the MoI could be reformed, various means are possible: greater accountability (over contracting, salary payments, use of resources, etc.); professionalisation, ie a better trained force; ‘merit-based’ appointments, a term both Ghani and Nicholson use; and the threat of prosecution.

Accountability measures

Tightening up financial and monitoring systems should make stealing resources more difficult. In October 2014, President Ghani set up the National Procurement Commission (NPC), which he chairs and Chief Executive Abdullah and various senior ministers are members of. The NPC reviews all government operations and maintenance contracts above 300,000 US dollars and construction contracts over 1.5 million US dollars. Since its creation, it has reviewed contracts worth 200 billion Afghanis (almost three billion dollars) and, said a recent UNAMA report on corruption, “enforced contracting standards and reduced corruption.” Ghani reported that an NPC review of MoI contracting, which reviewed 900 contracts awarded by the ministry, found that compliance with procurement law and best practices was the “rare exception rather than the rule.” After restructuring the bids to comply with the law, he said the NPC estimated it had saved USD 350 million in its first year.

The NPA has revoked the MoI’s procurement authority, and both MoD and MoI procurement departments have been completely or partially re-staffed (which has also led to delays in routine purchases). General Nicholson described this as a move “to reduce criminal network penetration.” Despite these efforts, at the start of 2017, CSTC-A took back managing the purchase of fuel and medical and pharmaceutical supplies for the MoI and MoD because of “corruption and low-quality product substitution.” In SIGAR’s latest report, CSTC-A was quoted as saying that “corruption and ethical concerns continue to hamper MOD and MOI contracting.” Since 1 January 2017, LOTFA (apparently at the instigation of the US military) has also only been funding the salaries of individuals validated as being on the tashkil (the agreed number of individuals at particular ranks in an organisation), in an attempt to ensure policemen exist and are paid.

These sorts of reforms, if they create sustainable systems, should ensure there is less room for graft. However, they do nothing to tackle the more significant problem of buying and selling of appointments and the crime which follows on from that.

‘Professionalising’ the force

A focus on training, as a way to get professional police into the mid and senior ranks with the aim of promoting meritocracy and thereby reducing corruption, has had limited effects, according to research by Integrity Watch in 2015. Looking at the police in Kabul, which has received the most resources and efforts, the research concluded:

The number of uneducated officers who were connected to militia factions and controlled Kabul police in early years after the fall of the Taliban has declined, and Kabul police looks more representative in terms of ethnic, political and regional background of its leadership. Yet Kabul’s police remain to a large extent dominated by officers who are appointed based on connections or other corrupt practices, rather than merit and qualifications.

The study found there were more professionally-trained officers, but they tended to get stuck in middle ranking positions while those connected to political factions or corrupt networks were being promoted to senior positions, often over their heads. In the past, it was the old militia factions which had exercised the strongest influence over ANP appointments, the authors said, but now members of parliament “have also become influential in senior appointments to both MoI and ANP.” They also point out that having professionally-trained police officers does not automatically lead to ‘professionalism’, if those men (and occasional women) have to appeal to sources of patronage in order to get promoted, and may then pursue corrupt practices. Indeed, they point to “the continued involvement of Kabul police in criminal and corrupt activities” and describe how parts of the force are basically “corrupt, pyramidal networks that engage in racketeering and extortion from the population instead of protecting citizens and enforcing the rule of law.” The parallel report looking at senior appointments nationwide, published in 2014, painted an even bleaker picture. (4)

Dealing with the ‘appointment problem’

The underlying problem at the MoI is political which means that technical fixes, such as greater accountability over spending and better training, important though they are in their own right, will never be enough to bring about fundamental change. The main example of a concerted attempt to deal with the ‘appointment problem’ was the Pay and Rank Reform of 2005-07 and this did partially address the political aspect of corruption at the MoI. Why these reforms worked, but did not last is instructive.

The aims of the Pay and Rank Reform were: 1) Restructure a top-heavy police force by reducing senior officer positions; 2) Institute a rigorous process for testing and selecting officers based on merit rather than personal and factional connections and bribery; and 3) Increase pay to facilitate recruitment and retention and reduce corruption.

To stay in post, generals had to sit exams to ensure they were literate and knew the law. They were also given background checks to try to root out those who were committing crimes, torturing people or abusing their positions for financial gain. (5)

The number of generals in the ministry was cut from over 340 to 120, colonels from 2450 to 301 and lieutenant colonels from 1824 to 467. Meanwhile, numbers in the lower ranks were increased. (6) Salaries were increased to bring them into line with the ANA. President Karzai almost derailed the reforms when, in June 2006, his choices for new provincial police chiefs and other senior positions included 14 generals who had failed the exam or the vetting. According to Human Rights Watch, they included human rights abusers, warlords and drug-traffickers, with several accused of murder, torture, intimidation, bribery, government corruption, interfering in police investigations and links to illegal armed groups. An unusually strong international reaction led to Karzai agreeing to a ‘probation board’ for the 14 and to him eventually standing down 11 of them.

The Pay and Rank reform succeeded only because of a great effort by reformers inside the ministry, detailed knowledge and hard work from some donors and UNAMA, and pressure on President Karzai from international donors. The US military (but not the State Department) was lukewarm or unhappy about the programme, seeing the immediate priority as battling the Taleban and feeling there was no time to ‘mess around’ with armed forces that were needed on the battlefield. However, there was enough buy-in from other international actors to push it through.

Maintaining those reforms proved impossible, however. In the years after the Pay and Rank Reform, as diplomats changed and the institutional memories of embassies proved weak, reformers inside the ministry found they lacked clout in the absence of international support. Karzai, who had never been keen on the reforms, was also to stay in power for another seven years. In Afghanistan, generals in the police, army and NDS are appointed by presidential decree and cannot easily be sacked. For that, they have to be prosecuted and sentenced to at least one year in prison or marry a foreigner or disappear. Even if a general is corrupt, committing abuses, is illiterate or ineffective, once he gets into the most senior higher ranks, it is basically a position for life (Article 49 of the Police Law 1393/2014). That meant that many of the ‘sacked’ generals bided their time in the reserves (ihtia’at), still receiving a salary, government car and bodyguards, and then lobbied for jobs in the MoI again.

Many did manage to get back into the senior ranks. Others cut their losses, going on to become MPs in the 2010 elections or obtaining other government positions. Several younger brothers or sons went into the MoI at senior positions, so networks and family fortunes were maintained. Given that the creation of generals is a form of political patronage, the distorted, top-heavy shape of the interior and defence ministry tashkils also re-assembled themselves.

Since taking office, Ghani has retired 150 generals from the MoI, MoD and NDS who were still in post despite being over-age. There has also been a bid to get young officers with international training moving up through the ranks (he was reportedly infuriated when he heard many were languishing in the reserves). The ministry also told the Independent Joint Anti-Corruption Monitoring and Evaluation Committee (MEC) that, during several months up to March 2017, 1400 officials at the MoD had been dismissed on charges of corruption and been replaced by “young and committed individuals”. (7) There were also 13 new appointments to the MoI on 18 May 2017, most notably General Murad Ali Murad who was brought over from the MoD (one idea from the government is to try to bring in officers from the relatively clean MoD to help support reform at the MoI). According to Ghani, this signalled a move towards “the same generational change in the MoI that we have delivered in the Ministry of Defense.”

Whether this is all just a re-shuffling of the same pack, which will make little difference, or the start of something more serious and sustained, is not yet clear. For ‘merit-based’ appointments to work, there would have to be some transparency over the system; that is not there yet. (8)

Prosecutions

There have also been some recent prosecutions of officials in the MoI and MoD, including through the new Anti-Corruption Justice Centre which began its work in November 2016. Up until now, the centre has processed at least 60 cases, involving government officials from various ministries accused of embezzlement, bribery, usurpation of public land and illegal mining. They include the former head of monitoring for the Procurement Department at the MoI, who was sentenced, on 9 January 2017, to 12 years imprisonment for bribery, related to fuel contracts. The ANA 215 corps commander in Helmand was also arrested in March 2017 on charges of neglect of duty and theft of supplies and food meant for his soldiers. His predecessor and other officers had earlier been relieved of duty after it was found that half of the men supposedly on the tashkil and receiving salaries were non-existent ‘ghosts’. (Helmand is one of the provinces where the Taleban have made the greatest gains in the last two years, as AAN has reported, here and here).

Such high level prosecutions could create some fear among those working in the MoI over the consequences of abusing state positions. Attorney General Muhammad Farid Hamidi appears serious about this anti-corruption drive, although he has many, many tasks on his plate. However, prosecuting offenders does not deal with systematic corruption, especially if power brokers continue to be able to protect clients and prosecutions focus on the less powerful or less protected while leaving the major players free.

What prospects for radical reform now?

Reading through earlier reports on the police over the last decade – from the International Crisis Group, AREU, Integrity Watch and RUSI, published between 2007 and 2015 – most conclusions could be cut and pasted here: on how difficult the task of reforming the MoI is and yet how crucial, how the problem is basically political but the solutions chosen tend to be technical and therefore make little impact, and that, for there to be success, there needs to be support both from the top level of government and the international powers. Most of the studies also called for international funding of the MoI and ANP to be conditional on getting comprehensive top-down reform.

The change in the attitude of senior US military leaders, seeing reform to the MoI as critical, seems genuine and as always, the US military is optimistic about its ability to get things done: “Where the US funds,” one senior officer told AAN, “it can apply pressure.” However, efforts are likely to be sustained only if the US leadership continues to believe reform is necessary for the war effort.

Currently the US military appears to be the prime mover behind making some security funding conditional (no salary payments for police – or local police and soldiers – unless they are validated as being on the tashkil, and conditionality coming in for biometric registration, equipment inventories and other measures). Tightening up the accounting is always good, but will not be sufficient to effect real change in the ministry.

Among the many donors who, through LOTFA, pay for the ANP whom AAN has spoken to over the past few years, there has appeared a marked reluctance to get involved in who gets appointed. Donors are far more comfortable speaking about technical and administrative reforms and shy away from discussion of who is actually running the MoI. It is a tricky question, of course, whether donors have the capability or the ‘right’ to try to influence government appointments in a state which is sovereign, but which they fund. What can be said is that there appears both less detailed knowledge of the personalities at the MoI among international actors than in 2005-7, including on the background and standing of senior officers, and a greater reluctance to ‘interfere’. (That reluctance is less marked among US officers.)

On the Afghan government side, it might have been thought that the withdrawal of almost all international combat troops at the end of 2014 would have been a wake-up call to those in the MoI who had been busy making money illegally out of their positions in government; if they wanted to preserve the state, they would have to work for its defence. However, the ‘wolf at the door’, with the Taleban persistently taking more territory since 2014, does not appear to have changed the calculation of those milking the system. Possibly, it will not change as long as the US military continues to fund the ANSF and will step in militarily when the Taleban threaten provincial centres. Maybe, also, those making money out of the ANSF can live with the insurgents eating up the ‘periphery’ of the country. (9)

The National Unity Government has certainly proved an institutional block on getting anything much done at all, including reform of the MoI. The fact of having two men in power who both believe they won the election has meant endless delays over appointments. The competency of a candidate has been just one factor considered, along with factional allegiance, ethnicity, old alliances and rivalries and the necessity of rewarding supporters from the election. Those other factors would always have mattered, but have been magnified by the inherent conflict at the heart of the National Unity Government. (10)

Despite the grave threat the Taleban insurgency poses and the apparent readiness of the US military and others to support reform, it is still not clear whether Ghani can galvanise the broad-based domestic political support that will be needed. He will need to persuade others in government to trust him not to be using the excuse of reform to clear out political rivals.

Although the Taleban threat makes tackling MoI corruption urgent, a senior official in the ministry assessed the chances for success as poor. Reform is more difficult now than it was a decade ago, he told AAN, because “the mafia networks are more consolidated.” He also pointed out that the prospect of elections incentivises both corruption and getting or keeping control of the ANP. “The police are useful for amassing a war chest to fund election campaigns,” he said, “but even more significantly, the police are necessary for anyone wanting to rig an election. I think overhauling the senior ranks, getting honest policemen in at the top is impossible in the run up to parliamentary and especially to presidential elections.”

Reforming the MoI may be an impossibly difficult task. However, not reforming it, if the Afghan state is to withstand the Taleban, would also not seem to be an option.

Edited by Martine van Bijlert

(1) See M Shaw, “Drug Trafficking and the Development of Organized Crime in Post-Taliban Afghanistan”, Chapter 7 in D Buddenberg and William A Byrd (Eds), Afghanistan’s Drug Industry: Structure, Functioning, Dynamics, and Implications for Counter-Narcotics Policy, Washington, DC: UNODC and World Bank, 2006, pp 189–200.

(2) See also Daudzai’s comments to a conference of provincial police chiefs in Kabul on 14 October 2014, “Personal connections and political influence have played a role in appointments, transfers and promotions over the past one year. As the interior minister, I accept my failure in prevention of this.” Tolo TV, monitored by the BBC.

(3) Isaqzadeh and Giustozzi, in their 2015 report for Integrity Watch produced the following ‘price list’ for appointments garnered from their respondents in the ministry and ANP: Provincial Chief of Police (CoP): $50-200,000; District CoP: $20-50,000; Head of Passport Unit Kabul: $200,000; Department Head in the MoI: $100,000; Customs Post Commander: $100,000.

(4) Some respondents gave examples of what they believed were corrupt or nepotistic appointments: the former secretary of an influential governor with no experience of policing appointed as a senior MoI official; a district police chief in Balkh being rotated between two districts near each other, contrary to rotation practices; a police officer responsible for a highway in northern Afghanistan in position for ten years, contrary to the three-year rotation rule, who either has strong political protection, or keeps buying his position; a policeman in Kabul promoted to colonel and head of district 16 months after joining the police – he is now trying to become general; the head of a ‘security ring’ in Kabul becoming colonel in three months and commander in six months, despite spending half his time in Dubai and managing his personnel from there; the chiefs of three police districts in Kabul who are brothers of MPs, none with more than one or two years of experience in the police and who are supervising subordinate officers with 15 to 20 years experience; the ex-shopkeeper who is now head of one of Kabul’s police districts despite having no police education or even short-term training; the nephew of a deputy minister who became colonel after attending a six-month police course.

(5) A selection process was developed consisting of five components: 1) written application 2) written test 3) file review 4) human rights vetting by UNAMA and the US Department of State and 5) interview before a selection board with Afghan and international members. The results of the individual interviews were used to rank candidates numerically. If officers were not selected at their current rank they were given the option of competing for a position at the next lower rank, with the incentive of considerably higher salaries than they were receiving previously at a higher rank. This process continued until they were selected, decided to retire, or reached an age limitation (General 65 years old, Colonel 55, Lieutenant Colonel 52, Major 50). Officers who were not selected were offered a severance package of one year of pay based on the higher salary scales.

(6) The full tashkil – before/after – was: Generals 340+/117, Colonels 2450/301, Lt Colonels 1824/467, Majors: 2067/580, Captains 2762/1057, 1st Lieutenants 1705/1518, 2nd Lieutenants 1834/2756, (3rd Lieutenants – rank removed) Sergeants 4800/9324, Patrolmen 36,600/45,880 (source: CSTC-A, January 2007, quoted here).

(7) Less convincingly, said MEC, on March 25 2017, the Ministry of Defense announced it had “swapped” the posts of at least 1000 officials accused of corruption in its Procurement and Finance departments. “While the MoD should be commended for identifying its corrupt officials,” said MEC, “its choice of remedy is highly questionable.”

(8) Ghani recently appointed Amrullah Saleh, a former Jamiat-e Islami stalwart, founder of the Green Movement and former head of the NDS, as ‘State Minister for Security Reforms’ in March 2017. His duties include advising the president on the appointment of new security officers, monitoring and implementation of a professional growth plan for high officers and giving advice on bringing about reforms in security departments. It is not yet clear how this appointment is going to pan out or whether Saleh will make fundamental changes to how appointments are made.

(9) Allegations of enrichment are occasionally made publically. See, for example, this recent Tolo investigation into generals who live “the high life in Kabul mansions, far beyond their apparent – according to their salaries – ability to pay for it.

(10) Evidence for how much inertia and mistrust there is in the government can be seen in what happened after the Taleban captured and subsequently lost Kunduz in 2015. Both independent analysis and internal reporting pointed to this as among the causes of the fall of the city. Kunduz had been made ripe for the Taleban to take by the weaknesses and rivalries within the provincial government and ANSF which were related to National Unity Government rivalries. Added to that was the impunity enjoyed by pro-government militias who predate on the population. Despite the shock of losing Kunduz, however, nothing has changed and Kunduz remains vulnerable to Taleban attack (see here and here).

On 31 May and 3 June 2017, Kabul was the scene of a series of new terrorist bomb attacks that took a heavy toll on the civilian population. While no group has claimed the attacks, the Afghan government has pointed at the Haqqani network, which is part of the Taleban. All this leaves room for various hypotheses and conspiracy theories. In this piece, following up on an earlier AAN summary of events and analysis of the political tensions that followed the bombings, AAN’s Borhan Osman weighs up the few clues available so far and assesses the most plausible explanations as to who could have been behind these attacks, and why. 

For a chronology of events leading up to 4 June 2017, read the first AAN analysis of the ‘black week’ in Kabul here.

Following a series of terrorist attacks and protests in Kabul, starting on 31 May 2017, there has been a prevailing sense of tension in Kabul, although the city has remained calm over the last three days, between 4 and 6 June 2017. Demonstrations have not taken place. Only the protestors who held out in a tent not far from the 31 May bomb site have erected two new tents in town, a sign that they are determined not to give up.

At the opening conference for the Kabul Process  on 6 June – a new attempt by the Afghan government to start a regional peace initiative –, President Ashraf Ghani released new casualty figures for the 31 May attack in Kabul: 150 dead and 350 injured. Injury figures had previously been reported as 450, so it can be assumed that many of those hurt in the blast have since passed away. This makes it the most devastating attack in Kabul since 2001.

ISKP: Celebrations but denial of responsibility

Beyond the official narratives of how the bomb attacks on 31 May and 3 June were carried out, one can only make an informed speculative analysis based on plausibility, in order to ascertain who was behind the attacks. There are two main possible perpetrators, based on other recent attacks in Kabul: the Taleban (all elements, including the Haqqani network, taken as a collective whole), who have been responsible for most of the previous attacks in the city, and the Islamic State Khorasan Province (ISKP), which is a relatively minor but growing actor.

Online sources known to reflect ISKP thinking initially celebrated the attack which, they said, must have killed muharibs (people in combat with IS) and their ‘puppets’, based on where the attack took place, which was near western embassies, the offices of international organisations and Afghan government installations. They even condemned the Taleban’s condemnation of the attack.

Several media outlets, both Afghan and non-Afghan (1 TV during a live transmission, Xinhua citing Afghan officials, Iran’s Fars news agency and the BBC’s John Simpson, for example, in a tweet) reported an ISKP claim, but never gave a source. These reports appear to have been wrong.

Later on, around ten hours after the explosion, social media accounts of known ISKP activists published an announcement denying responsibility and condemning the attack. The announcement came in the form of plain text rather than a formal statement with the group’s logo and usual layout. It noted that there would be no formal statement since, it said, the organisation (including its Afghanistan-Pakistan ‘provincial’ chapter) only issues statements when it carries out or claims an attack, not in the case of denials.

Two days later, on 2 June 2017, two Arabic-language statements bearing the logos and the graphic style of ISKP and the ISIS-affiliated Amaq news agency, spread throughout social media and were even widely circulated by the Taleban, including by their media division. One statement said the bombing had targeted the Germans and had killed a large number of their guards. The other statement contained the name and photograph of the alleged bomber, with his face blurred. ISKP-affiliated websites and online activists, however, rejected the authenticity of the two statements and pointed to flaws in the style of the statements as signs of fabrication. They blamed the Taleban for spreading fake statements in an attempt to cover up their own responsibility. It is not clear who crafted the statements or why, but the fact that the Taleban drew attention to them does suggest that they may have indeed been the source.

For ISKP, a successful truck bomb such as the one that carried out the attack would be a first and would represent a significant scaling up of its operational and logistical capabilities. So far, the organisation has not been able to supply or source such a large amount of explosives in Kabul. Most of the attacks it has claimed have been carried out by single or multiple bombers equipped with explosive belts and automatic guns, as reported in earlier AAN dispatches (for example here). However, it is not beyond the realm of possibility that ISKP’s Kabul cell could have upped its capacity and managed to transport this amount of explosives to one of Kabul’s better-guarded areas. There is always a first time. Moreover, ISKP is not operating within a void. Criminal networks and groups loosely connected with other insurgency actors are able to provide ISKP with one-off help in exchange for financial incentives. But it is too early to say whether that really happened.

The most powerful argument against ISKP’s involvement in the bombing is the fact that it would almost certainly have claimed it had the group carried out the attack. First, the group does not care much about its popularity, especially in the Kabul environment, and would be ready to face a public outcry produced by such an atrocity. The area of the attack could also be well justified in ISKP’s logic, with all its ‘legitimate targets’. This was already evident in early comments on social media by ISKP members before the informal denial came. On the contrary, claiming such an attack would have given ISKP an enormous propagandistic boost, which it certainly needs following recent setbacks, such as the attacks on its strongholds in eastern Afghanistan. (There were even initial speculations that the blast could have been an act of revenge for the ‘MOAB’ strike that was directed at ISKP in Nangrahar province.) This attack, had it been claimed, would have put ISKP at the top of the international news headlines. This is probably no different from IS claims on recent attacks in London and Manila (the latter not even considered a terrorist attack by investigating agencies.)

The fact that the attack has remained unclaimed could also have encouraged ISKP to lay claim to it for the sake of publicity.

The attack would have shown that ISKP had indeed shifted gears, carrying out an attack of this magnitude with such a powerful bomb. It would have boosted its standing vis-à-vis its other major enemy in the Afghan arena, the Taleban.

A close study of ISKP’s media operation, however, indicates that it has started developing more rigorous internal regulations when it comes to its media outreach. Claims of major attacks have to first go through their provincial media branch, which are then given the green light by central media operators in Syria, according to ISKP sources. All in all, ISKP’s involvement in the 31 May terrorist attack remains the less plausible scenario.

Taleban: Condemnation – but…

The Taleban denied responsibility for the attack, and even condemned it. This statement came four hours after the attack. This relatively sluggish response is fairly common for them, however. For a normal attack planned by their central military commission, Taleban spokesmen are immediately briefed when it happens, even sometimes in advance. But for attacks undertaken by special units of the Taleban, or groups that do not always coordinate with the central military commission – such as the Haqqani network –, it usually takes time for the Taleban to establish their own involvement. In some cases, the interval between an attack and a claim or denial is intentional, in order to assess the consequences of the attack and gauge public opinion, before making an official statement (more on this further down.)

In the case of the bomb at the Chahrrahi-ye Zanbaq (Zanbaq junction) on 31 May, however, Taleban social media activists went further than simply condemning it. They blamed it on US and/or foreign intelligence agencies and vowed to avenge the attack, saying that the root cause of the problem was “foreign occupation” and that the only solution to stop such carnage was to end it.

Despite the Taleban’s categorical denial, however, the attack bears all the hallmarks of the movement more than of any other non-state actors. The movement’s operational capacity and logistical access to plan and execute such a bombing is beyond question. It regularly carries out attacks of this magnitude. The main questions are, what was the intended target and why have the Taleban denied it? It could have been a premature detonation, which concurs with the official version that the truck only detonated after the ANP stopped it at the entrance to the city’s well-protected ‘Green Zone’.

The real intended target remains a matter of speculation, as many prominent institutions are present in the area: government institutions (the presidential palace, Ministry of Defence or NDS, for example), international headquarters (including that of Resolute Support and the CIA, in the Ariana Hotel), embassies (many western ones, but also the Indian embassy) etc. The amount of explosives and the magnitude of the explosion, however, were clearly designed to do as much damage as possible.

To understand what may have happened, it is useful to revisit an earlier AAN dispatch on how some semi-autonomous networks under the umbrella of the Taleban operate and why the movement might deny some of the attacks they carry out. These networks tend to have their own sources of funding and a particular chain of command, although nominally and officially under the Taleban’s Rahbari Shura (the Leadership Council.) The Haqqani network is probably the largest and most powerful of these semi-autonomous networks. Another is the former Taleban military chief Qayum Zaker’s network in Helmand, which retains a degree of autonomy despite being partly dependent on resources from the Rahbari Shura. There are also smaller networks that serve as Pakistan’s direct proxies (and are much more loyal to the Taleban than the Haqqanis are) but that also enjoy the freedom to act freely within the insurgency’s sphere. These are thought to be responsible for a series of assassinations (or assassination attempts) against politicians, tribal elders (especially in the south) and ulema, as well as Afghan Taleban members.

For the networks mentioned above, an official policy towards a certain issue does not necessarily always matter. They are bound only by the Taleban’s universal red lines, notably that they cannot engage in sectarian attacks, beheadings or rapes – in order to keep their pledge of allegiance to the movement and benefit from the name. But there is a wide grey area in which these networks can operate with some divergence from official Taleban policies. For the time being, the Taleban leadership seems to heed those networks’ insistence on operational autonomy, in part as a reward for their important military contributions. This also provides the Taleban leadership deniability when it comes to particular ‘operations,’ for example, when the attacks by these networks cause remarkably high numbers of civilian casualties.

Why would the Taleban deny it?

The Taleban do not always claim the attacks they carry out. Their official position toward attacks varies, ranging from proud claims of responsibility to silence, denial or even condemnation. The type of behaviour is determined mainly by how the attack will affect the Taleban’s image among the wider public, the Taleban support base and the broader political spectrum. For example, the assassination of former President Borhanuddin Rabbani in 2011, then-Chairman of the High Peace Council, obviously resonated well with the Taleban’s support base, but claiming it publicly was seen as too damaging for its political image among the former mujahedin. The Taleban’s response in that instance was silence – although the perpetrator had come as an alleged Taleban peace messenger. Other instances where the Taleban have denied responsibility (but may well have been the perpetrators) include the large truck bomb that seems to have exploded prematurely one night in August 2015 in Kabul’s Shah Shahid neighbourhood, killing dozens, mainly civilians (see here and here.) Denial and occasional condemnation are typical responses when the attack causes a particularly unjustifiable level of damage or number of casualties by the Taleban’s standards, even when they are seen as ‘collateral’ rather than intended.

Examples of Taleban condemnation of attacks that were clearly carried out by their own fighters include two of the deadliest ones, both in Paktika, in 2014 and 2015. In July 2014 – the holy month of Ramadan that year – a truck bomb went off in Urgun killing scores of people, almost all of them civilians, and reduced a large part of the town to rubble. Details provided to AAN at the time by locals left no doubt that the attack was carried out by a well-known local Taleban commander, who had wanted to target a notorious pro-government militia commander, Azizullah Karwan. It was not clear, though, whether the bomb had detonated prematurely or intentionally, given that many local Taleban foot soldiers considered the entire population of the town a legitimate target for its collective hostility toward Azizullah. Another attack targeted a group of people that were considered similarly ‘hostile’ when a suicide bomber blew himself up among a crowd watching or participating in a volleyball tournament in Yahyakhel district in November 2015, that included a number of ALP commanders. The Taleban officially condemned the attack in a statement and promised to hold those responsible to account, while on the other hand a pro-Taleban website provided detailed justifications for the attack.

If the massive truck bomb on 31 May was indeed a premature detonation, the denial by the Taleban would make sense, given their mindfulness of their public image – a contrast to how ISKP handles this. Furthermore, the fact that Taleban media activists went out of their way to promote a fabricated ISKP claim may well have been an attempt to deflect suspicion – although it could also have simply been an attempt to tarnish the image of its jihadist rival.

Conspiracy theories provide ‘easy explanations’

There are two other explanations circulating on social media and among the Afghan public, both falling in the category of conspiracy theories. One is that the government itself was behind the explosion. This, in particular, was hinted at by some of the protestors on 2 June 2017 and in statements by the protest leaders, most of whom are Jamiatis with longstanding grievances against the government. A pro-Taleban writer also pointed to this possibility, arguing that the self-inflicted attack had been aimed at building momentum for the upcoming Kabul Process meeting. The writer argued that the government wanted to magnify the gravity of the threat from terrorist groups, so it could emphasise the need for more international engagement.

A similar theory holds that the explosion was not caused by a tanker-borne bomb, but rather by a huge missile. A well-known and well-respected civil society activist presented metal pieces from the site during a live TV talk show, claiming they did not belong to a vehicle, and adding that the Shah Shahid blast of 2015 mentioned above had been of a similar nature. The implication behind the theory is that the US (or some other western) military dropped the bomb to escalate the conflict. The theory is quite popular on social media, where video clips of the civil society activist has been widely shared and viewed. It comes as no surprise, therefore, that there were anti-US signs and slogans raised during the 2 June 2017 demonstrations. (Another source of anti-US sentiment is the feeling that the bilateral security agreement between Afghanistan and the US has done nothing to address the country’s main security threats.)

The 3 June attacks on the funeral

There are even fewer clues and details surrounding the nature of the explosions that shook the funeral of the son of Muhammad Alam Ezadyar. Three successive explosions took place while a number of high-ranking officials, mostly linked to Jamiat, were attending the ceremony (including Chief Executive Abdullah, Foreign Minister Salahuddin Rabbani, former NDS chief Amrullah Saleh and Minister of Public Health Ferozuddin Feroz.) Officials and participants described how the explosions had been caused by three suicide bombers. They had apparently chosen different locations among the crowd of mourners before blowing themselves up. Afghan media later showed footage indicating the explosive charges were hidden in shoes. This was a well-packed crowd, and if the explosives had been more powerful, the carnage could have been much larger than during the 31 May bombing. However, given that security must have been tight due to the attendance of senior officials, the bombers seem to have arrived with a minimal amount of explosives to avoid being detected and caught.

Nobody claimed responsibility for this series of explosions, either. The Taleban, this time, quickly issued a statement denying their involvement and saying the attack had been the result of “internal enemy feuds”. The NDS, on the other hand, released a video of a man it said was one of the bombers at the funeral (who had failed to detonate his charge), and that he was linked to the Taleban. On the video the man confessed that the funeral attacks had been organised by mullahs based in Chaman, near the Afghan border in Balochistan, without explicitly mentioning the Taleban.

Prominent participants at the funeral, such as Salahuddin Rabbani, hinted that circles within the government (in his words, “terrorists within the system”), had been the culprits. Another prominent member of Jamiat, governor of Balkh province Atta Muhammad Nur, also joined in, describing the attacks as a “cowardly conspiracy and a direct attack on a specific political current [Jamiat] [which] furthers the speculations about the hand of circles within the establishment in orchestrating these attacks.”

Politically charged feuds and claims aside, the two main suspects in this case remain the dominant insurgent groups operating in Kabul. In terms of tactics, the scope of the attack and nature of the target (a funeral ceremony) as well as the limited clues that are available, all point to the involvement of ISKP rather than to the Taleban. Planning such an attack and supplying a small amount of explosives for three bombers would not present a major challenge for ISKP. AAN has reported earlier on a part of ISKP’s Kabul cell operating in the northern parts of the city. An event like this, with the participation of so many senior government officials, would make it not only a ‘legitimate’, but also a highly attractive target for ISKP. However, the fact that the group did not claim the attack, casts doubt on this scenario, which would otherwise be the most plausible.

Afghanistan’s increasingly complex web of violence

Due to the high number of both government and foreign institutions as well as the potential for grabbing media attention far and wide, Kabul has always been an attractive place for insurgent groups to carry out attacks. Over the past decade and a half, a range of militant groups, from the Afghan Taleban to the now reconciled Hezb-e Islami, to Taleban splinter groups such as Fedai Mahaz or Dadullah Mahaz and more recently, ISKP, have focused their attacks on the capital. Kabul remains a favourite launch pad for attacks for any new militant group seeking to gain publicity and introducing itself to potential recruits at the national level.

Lately, it would appear that ISKP and the Taleban have been competing over who could unleash the most violence in the capital. Sometimes, both have claimed responsibility for the same incidents, simultaneously (in the past, similar contesting claims had pitted Hezb-e Islami against the Taleban.) Such a spirit of competition usually makes groups rush to lay claim to the attacks they carry out, providing details of the operation to bolster the credibility of their claims.

What makes the attacks this past week unusual is not only that they caused mass casualties, but also that they came one after the other, as though the first led to the next; both hit soft targets but, importantly, and belying the spirit of competition, nobody claimed responsibility for them. This lends an air of mystery to these attacks. They have succeeded in creating further political tension in the already notoriously divided National Unity Government, feeding an array of conspiracy theories.

Edited by Sari Kouvo, Thomas Ruttig and Emilie Jelinek

It has been an incredibly difficult week for Kabul. In four days, over a hundred people were killed and several hundreds injured – most of them in a massive terrorist attack in central Kabul on 31 May 2017. Two days later, as angry protests threatened to become violent, the police opened fire killing and injuring several more people. The next day, during the funeral of one of the victims, a triple suicide attack tore through the rows of the mourners just as they started their prayers – miraculously leaving most of the gathered Jamiat leaders unharmed. The situation in Kabul remains tense, but there have been no further protests yet, as politicians mull their options. AAN’s Martine van Bijlert and Thomas Ruttig describe how the events of the past few days unfolded and quickly became highly political (with input from Obaid Ali and Ali Adili).

This dispatch will be followed by one discussing the possible perpetrators of the 31 May and 3 June 2017 attacks.

The German news agency dpa, that has an office in Kabul, reported a total of 117 people killed and 586 injured over the last four days – to which one probably should add “at least.” There were media reports quoting Afghan officials as saying that some bodies will probably never be recovered due to the enormous strength of the explosion, which indicates that there might be a number of unknown, and uncounted, victims.

The massive truck bomb (31 May 2017)

The carnage started on 31 May 2017 when a wastewater tanker packed with an estimated 1500 kg of explosives detonated at a junction between Kabul’s Sherpur and Wazir Akbar Khan neighbourhoods, during the morning rush hour. There, the road forks off to the nearby German embassy – the most exposed building of which was destroyed beyond repair (personnel had earlier been relocated from here; there had also been warnings of a possible imminent attack) – and further on to Resolute Support’s military headquarters, the US, UK and other embassies, as well one of the presidential palace’s entrances.

The truck had reportedly been turned away from another entrance into what some foreigners call Kabul’s ‘Green Zone’ where many embassies, international organisations and leading Afghan politicians’ villas are situated. Alert policemen had reportedly not recognised the driver and had sent him away, even though he drove a truck with the sign of the company that normally services the area and had carried (false) papers that would have allowed the vehicle in. From there, the truck apparently drove to near the German embassy, was stopped again and detonated (a Tolo report has the name of the police officer who stopped the truck and was killed together with eight colleagues.) Footage from nearby surveillance cameras show the enormous strength of the explosion.

The way the events unfolded has led the German authorities to preliminarily assume, according to the same report, that the target was not their embassy in particular, but rather a ‘high-level target’ inside the Green Zone, in general.

The corner where the tanker exploded was the last point that was still accessible for general traffic before entering this part of town (see this footage). The area is usually crowded at that time of the day. As a result, not only police and security company personnel that manned the nearby check-post, but large numbers of Afghan civilians were harmed – an estimated 90 people killed and further 460 injured, some so badly that it will affect them for the rests of their lives. The explosion also badly damaged properties of banks, companies and shops in a radius of around a kilometre. This included the nearby Emergency Hospital where many injured were transported to – fortunately, only minor damage was sustained and it was able to continue operating. (1) As often after similar attacks, Kabulis flocked to hospitals in large numbers to donate blood.

There was no claim of responsibility for the attack, from neither the Taleban or Daesh’s local ‘Khorasan’ chapter (ISKP), but the Afghan intelligence (NDS), already on the same evening, accused the Haqqani network of having organised the blast, in cooperation with the Pakistani intelligence service, the ISI (Tweet in Dari here; see also this report). On 2 June 2017, the Taleban, in response, released a second statement (quoted here), this time explicitly stating that “None of our Mujahideen including those of Haqqani Sahib had any role in this event, neither does the killing of civilians benefit the Islamic Emirate.” (2)

President Ashraf Ghani, in response to the attack, ordered the execution of eleven Haqqani and Taleban prisoners – a fact that was reported but has not yet been effected. The Taleban, as in the past, responded by threatening that if prisoners were executed “all offices of the Kabul administration” would come under attack.

Vigils and debates (1 June 2017)

After the trauma of the massive blast, that was felt all over Kabul and affected almost everybody, there was a clear desire to act: take a stand against the perpetrators, but also express frustration and to make demands from the government. The grief and rage sought an outlet and was aimed in different directions: at the attackers, whoever they were, at Pakistan who was accused of having had a hand in it, and at the government and its security apparatus, who people felt should have prevented the attack.

On 1 June 2017, in an initial response, dozens of mainly young Kabulis gathered at the blast site for a vigil. Among other slogans, the protestors demanded the execution of “Daesh prisoners.” But there was hope that the outrage over the carnage would lead to more peaceful, pro-peace protests, as had been the case after earlier events (for instance after the attacks on a lake-side restaurant in Kargha in late June 2012 and the Serena Hotel in March 2014). But the debates on whether to organise a mass demonstration the next day, already held forebodings of what could happen. Several civil society groups pulled out, fearing that the protests could turn violent, would possibly be hijacked for political means, or could be targeted for further carnage – and all three did indeed happen.

Protests and more deaths (2 June 2017)

When demonstrators returned the following day, on 2 June 2017, in large numbers, the mood was more much tense and anti-government, and there was an array of agendas on display. There were calls for the government to resign in favour of an interim government. Some demonstrators carried anti-Hekmatyar posters (protesting the return and political inclusion of the Hezb-e Islami leader after a peace deal with the government, see here and here for background), as well as the green-white-black flags of the Islamic State of Afghanistan, the mujahedin government of 1992-96 (photo here; there had also been earlier anti-Hekmatyar protests immediately after his arrival in Kabul using the same insignia, organised by the Green Trend, a movement of mainly former and young Jamiatis, led by former intelligence chief Amrullah Saleh). There were even placards denouncing one of Ghani’s international advisers, saying that “Ghani dances to the orders of this man.”

At least part of the crowd wanted to march on to the presidential palace; they were stopped by the police which was out in the streets in strength. The situation turned tense as the security forces used water cannons, tear gas and batons and, at some point, live ammunition, killing a number of protestors. Figures still differ, from two dead according to Kabul’s police chief to at least seven, according to the BBC, or eight, according to Jamiati MP Hafiz Mansur, and some 30 others injured. The police chief alleged that protesters had been carrying weapons and had fired at the police, wounding four officers. Photos were circulated on social media claiming to show armed protestors.

It was a tense and confusing day, particularly as news of the deaths started coming in and being confirmed. One of the dead was Salem Ezadyar, the son of a leading Jamiati politician and current deputy chairman of the Meshrano Jirga, or Senate.

After the protest, a smaller group of demonstrators set up a tent near the Emergency Hospital (an area between the blast side and Kabul’s Shahr-e Naw) to stay in the area and keep the spirit of the protest alive. Zia Massud, who was dismissed as the president’s special representative for government reform in April of this year, who joined them later, was quoted as saying that “the people have decided to change the system and set up a temporary [interim] government” (which has been his demand, ever since he was dismissed from the government). (3)

Funerals and more carnage (3 June 2017)

On Saturday 3 June 2017, with people still reeling from the events of the day before, debates on whether to continue and possibly escalate the demonstrations were ongoing. Afghan police and intelligence officials however urged Kabul’s inhabitants to stay indoors, citing a threat of possible attacks that could target large gatherings of people (see here and here). There were no demonstrations, but people did gather for the funerals.

One of the main funerals, attended by leading politicians (mainly but not exclusively from Jamiat), was the one of Ezadyar’s son. It took place at the same cemetery where former Jamiati leader Marshal Fahim was buried, in Kabul’s northern Saray-e Shamali area. While the mourners lined up for prayers, three explosions tore through the second or third row (see dramatic footage here), killing at least 20 and injuring 119. According to the NDS the attackers had used explosive-rigged shoes. (4) This explains the relatively small casualty toll, given that the explosion took place in the midst of the mourners, as the shoes contained a relatively small amount of explosives and probably no ball bearings or other forms of shrapnel. Leaders, who had stood close by the scene of the explosions, including Chief Executive Dr Abdullah, Foreign Minister and interim Jamiat leader Salahuddin Rabbani and Amrullah Saleh remained unharmed. (5)

Emotions obviously ran high, as the crowds dispersed in disarray and anger. Smaller groups at the site reportedly started attacking the police, trying to disarm them and setting fire to two police Rangers, but were calmed by their elders, as local people told AAN. There were accusations against the government and the security organs for failing to protect the mourners, if not of conspiring with the attackers. In particular Balkh governor Atta Mohammad Nur called the 3 June attack a “cowardly conspiracy and a direct attack on a specific political current [Jamiat] [which] furthers the speculations about the hand of circles within the establishment in orchestrating these attacks.” Others on social media labelled the (Ghani part of the) government as ‘fascist’ and demanded its resignation.

Chief Executive Abdullah, who had been present during the attack, appeared live on Tolo TV from his home late that afternoon appealing for calm, while the Jamiati leadership gathered in Rabbani’s house (Abdullah had recently not been re-elected into the extended party leadership). Rabbani, in contrast, announced that he would soon make a statement about the “terrorists inside the system”, also hinting at alleged government officials’ involvement in funeral attack. The statement however never came. In the meantime, the Jamiat leadership continued to debate their course of action, while the city held its breath to see how they would respond.

Where we are now: A lull (4 June 2017)

This morning, Sunday 4 June 2017, all main routes to the palace and the site of the attack remained closed. Protestors continued to camp out in their tent close to the Emergency hospital, with reports of plans to erect more tents elsewhere. The city is not in lockdown, but it is eerily quiet in many areas, with many people opting to stay at home (several schools apparently sent the children home again, based on threat warnings).

The traditional three days of mourning after the latest deaths – those shot by government forces and those killed at the funeral – will end by Tuesday. The Jamiat leadership, which did not come to a consensus on how to act yet, has asked its supporters to refrain from protests or rioting until they have reached a decision.

The Jamiat council has reached out to other groups, some of whom had joined Friday’s protests, in the hope of forging alliances, but has so far not been very successful. Groups that were approached include Jombesh-e Melli (whose leader and First Vice President General Abdul Rashid Dostum has long been sidelined and had been bundled off to Turkey in May 2017 for ‘medical treatment’), the Protection and Stability Council headed by Abdul Rab Sayyaf, the well-organised Hazara pressure group Jombesh-e Roshnayi, as well as several civil society groups. There were also contacts between Hezb-e Wahdat and Jamiat.

All of these groups have grudges of their own and have been highly critical of the current government and its inability to meet their demands. Several of these groups, moreover, share Jamiat’s suspicions towards what they consider a Pashtun-nationalist agenda of parts of the government. But none of them seem keen to join protests that could easily turn violent and that threaten to be hijacked by groups and personalities who seem intent on (or at least give the impression they wouldn’t mind) toppling the government.

The Jamiat leadership council – that was just expanded from 9 to 60 members – is divided on how to proceed. Some want to continue protests regardless of whether they turn violent or not. Others only want protests if they remain peaceful, while some are in favour of negotiating with the government first, and reverting to protests only if the negotiations fail to bring results. The latter group seems to have lost out for the moment, as today’s invitation to come to the palace to talk was apparently refused. Governor Atta further said they had sent a delegation to Abdullah to make him clarify his position: whether he stood “with the people” or with the government. Abdullah spokesman, though, later denied that there was such ultimatum.

At the same time, in the afternoon of 3 June, Dr Abdullah was quoted by Voice of America’s Dari service as saying he was ready to step down “if it could heal the pain of the people.”

Chief Executive Abdullah, according to Mitra TV, urged the Jamiat delegation when they came to him to end the protests so that the planned international Kabul Process conference – a new regional peace initiative of the government – could go ahead and to postpone any demands that security officials be dismissed until after it . With regard to his own position, he said he would decide after the conference. (The regional conference, scheduled for 6 June was to be participated by the US, Pakistan India, Saudi Arabia, Japan, the United Kingdom, Russia, the United Arab Emirates, Qatar, Turkey, Germany, France, China, the EU and the UN – see also here).

Looking ahead

The events of the last days have again showcased the deep vulnerability of the National Unity Government. Part of this vulnerability is due to the impractical structure of the current government that was negotiated by John Kerry, then US foreign minister, after the contentious elections of 2014. Part of it is due to the deep divisions and lack of trust between the government’s two camps (those of Abdullah/Jamiat and of Ghani) and their supporters. Another part is due to the fact that many of the political factions can mobilise armed people and that in particular Jamiat has used the threat of large demonstrations that may or may not turn violent, as a political pressure tactic.

Mass demonstrations in Kabul, in particularly in response to highly emotive events, are generally met with great anxiety by the sitting government. Critics argue that this illustrates how the government is out of touch with its people, cannot acknowledge their emotions or recognise legitimate demands and does not know how to respond in ways that would defuse a tense situation. Those close to the government, on the other hand, point to the massive risks involved in the demonstrations, including that of mass casualties if the crowd is targeted (as happened earlier with this Jombesh-e Rushnayi demonstration on 23 July 2016) and the threat that armed groups may use the cover of the crowd to incite violence and attack the government (as was feared during the Zabul Seven (or “Tabasum”) demonstrations in November 2015 and the protests after the 2014 elections).

Furthermore, the demonstrations on Friday did present a struggle between those who wanted to use the gathering to express outrage and grief, and those who wanted to use the crowd to put pressure on the government (This is illustrated in this short clip where Latif Pedram, leader of a small Tajik nationalist party, is shouted down by demonstrators asking him not to make this about politics). The police, despite years of training by ISAF and now Resolute Support forces, continue to struggle with peaceful crowd control. But their job is also often greatly complicated by reports of armed demonstrators trying to move towards the palace.

For now, the momentum of the demonstrations seems to have halted. There seems to be little appetite among most politicians for a situation that spirals completely out of control. And although the current government is maddeningly dysfunctional and divided, any other politicians in their place would equally struggle to face the country’s current challenges. Given that there are no real mechanics for a change in government (despite demands for snap elections or the formation of a interim government) and no leaders that seem to garner trust beyond their immediate supporters, it is very unlikely that any radical change would lead to an improvement. And there does indeed seem to be very little appetite among the wider population to have the current weak government replaced by squabbling politicians in a fragmenting political field.

Which is of course also what bothers those who have legitimate complaints against the government. They fear that because of the near consensus that the current weak government is better than most of its alternatives, there will be no accountability for its mistakes, its negligence and the sometimes outright partisan behavior of its parts but a continuation of the less than satisfactory status quo.

(1) On 4 June 2017 the hospital raised an alarm, reporting “gentle threats” by some of the protesters camping outside, and appealed for the security of its staff to be safeguarded to ensure that they could keep they hospital open.

(2) Serajuddin Haqqani, the leader of the so-called Haqqani network, was appointed first deputy under then Taleban leader Mullah Akhtar Muhammad Mansur in 2015; Mansur was killed in a US drone attack in the following year.

(3) Protests were also held in Herat (photos here and here), with approximately 300 people attending. They remained peaceful. Protests in Mazar-e Sharif planned for 4 June were called off by governor’s office in the last moments and postponed to 5 June.  Protests in Takhar province held already on 3 June also went by without any disturbence. At the same time, Iranians and Pakistanis held vigils for the Afghan victims in Mashhad, Tehran and Peshawar.

(4) According to the NDS, there had been four attackers at the funeral of Salim Ezadyar, one of whom had not detonated himself. The NDS claimed to have arrested 13 “suicide attackers and terrorists,” including the fourth attacker at the funeral. In the course of the day the NDS released details and footage of the man, who apparently admitted to having been recruited and trained by the Taleban in a madrassa in Quetta, Pakistan. The Taleban reportedly rejected the accusation per WhatsApp message.

(5) Among the killed reportedly was Mawlawi Jalal, a member of the Ulema Council, and among the injured were four parliamentarians (two remained hospitalised), health minister Firozuddin Firuz, Senate chairmanFazl Hadi Muslimyar and Massud Khalili,  a close aide of late commander Ahmad Shah Massud, poet and later long-term ambassador to India and Spain. (Khalili had been in the room, and had survived, during Ahmad Shah Massud’s assassination by two terrorists masquerading as TV journalists – the bomb was hidden in a video camera – on 9 September 2001.)