The Afghanistan Analysts Network (AAN)

In addition to the last Amir of Bukhara’s former garden, on which we reported some days ago, there is another landmark in Kabul that reminds us of this unlucky ruler – his tomb at the Shuhada-ye Salehin cemetery. The Amir, Muhammad Alem Khan, died in Kabul in 1944 and remains buried in Afghanistan despite his last wish for his remains to be transferred to his home city. His country, once Afghanistan’s neighbour to the north, no longer exists. Using little viewed material from both Russia and Central Asia, guest author Vladimir N Plastun (*) and AAN co-director Thomas Ruttig look at how the once-powerful ruler ended up in Kabul: the result of the last round of the great Central Asian game between Soviets, British and local forces, including Afghanistan, and a forgotten competition over who would lead the Muslim world – an AAN long read for the days around the (western) New Year.

You can read part 1 of our short series on Afghanistan and Bukhara (“The Amir of Bukhara’s Forlorn Garden”) by Jolyon Leslie here.

Dreams of khelafat

For a short time, from August 1919 to August 1920, Afghanistan and Bukhara to its immediate north, were the only de facto independent Muslim states not only in Central Asia but worldwide. Neighbouring Iran de jure was independent, too, but had partly been occupied by foreign – British and Russian – troops during World War I. The Ottoman Empire had been dismantled as a result of this war, during which it had allied with the defeated Central Powers, Germany, the Austro-Hungarian Empire and Bulgaria. Given this outcome, both rulers – Amir Amanullah Khan of Afghanistan and Amir Sayyed Mir Muhammad Alem Khan of Bukhara – aspired to becoming the new leader of Islam. Both dreamt of a new, large independent Central Asian Muslim empire that would include those areas that had been under Russian and then were – only partly in practice – under Soviet control. Both were hoping to be able to assume the title of the caliph, until then held bythe Ottoman Sultan. But allied troops had occupied the Ottoman capital Istanbul in 1919 and the sultan-caliph had fled abroad.

Both Amirs were thus in competition with each other, without ever publicly claiming the title. This was impossible, as a new caliph had been elected by the parliament of the Turkish Republic under Atatürk, although with strongly curbed powers. In 1924, Turkey formally abolished the caliphate.

Alem Khan in Bukhara had the advantage over the Afghan Amir, given that his capital – bearing the honorific title Bukhara-ye Sharif (the noble Bukhara) – had been famous for centuries as one of the most important centres of Islamic learning worldwide. And importantly, although having been de jure a Russian protectorate since 1868 when it had been forced to give the Czar control over the country’s foreign relations after a military defeat (similar to Afghanistan following the 1879 Gandamak Treaty with Britain), Bukhara saw itself as de facto independent after the 1917 February Revolution that ended Czarism. This event, followed by the takeover of Lenin’s Bolsheviki in October that year and the outbreak of the Civil War between the ‘red’ and the ‘white’ Russians in late 1918, severed all physical connections – ie the rail links – between the beleaguered Russian centre and Central Asia. As a result, Alem Khan had a free hand, as Tajik historian Kamoludin Abdullaev wrote in “Posledniy Mangit” (“The Last Manghit”), to try “to recover the country’s place in the international community of states between revolutionary [Soviet] Turkestan, (1) Afghanistan, which was religiously and ethnically close, British India and Shia Iran.”

In March 1918, Amir Alem’s troops repelled an early Soviet attempt to conquer his country. The latter had the support of the small, homegrown reformist Yash Bukharalilar (Young Bukharan) movement. The Amir was known to be adverse to any modernisation that was not military, and for brutally suppressing all forms not only of opposition but also of non-orthodox thought. A crackdown on the Yash Bukharalilar followed; they then sought refuge with the Soviets.

Amanullah came to power in Afghanistan only two years later, in February 1919, after his father Habibullah was assassinated. In August that year, he proclaimed the re-establishment of his country’s full independence. This followed a short war, the third one with Britain since 1839, at a point where their adversaries had become so war-weary after World War I, they decided to let the Afghans go. Britain also ceased paying subsidies to Afghanistan, forcing Amanullah to impose a tougher tax system that resulted in growing opposition. After the war, he used the title “Ghazi” (victor) which has a religious connotation. Dupree and Poullada wrote that he then started playing with the idea of proclaiming Afghanistan the seat of the khelafatand that “feelers were stretched out” to a number of Islamic countries, via foreign minister Mahmud Tarzi and religious scholars, about whether to proclaim Amanullah the new caliph. (2) In early 1920, according to contemporary British intelligence reports (quoted here, p32), the khutba – the Friday prayer sermon – was read in Kabul “in the name of other Muhammadan rulers as well as in the name of [Amanullah].”

There were also practical ways of boosting Amanullah’s standing as a leader of Islam. When Indian Muslims sold their land and prepared for migration in protest against the British occupation of Istanbul in 1919, he offered them land. By August 1920, some 30,000 of them had crossed into Afghanistan in the so-called Hejrat (migration) movement. Some of them were given land around Jabl ul-Seraj, a town north of Kabul in today’s Parwan province, and seem to have been assimilated by the local population over the decades. A second muhajer colony was planned in Qataghan province in the northeast. Other migrants enlisted into the Afghan army (see here, pp32, 52, 59).

However, the Hejrat Movement’s influx led to severe price rises for foodstuffs and land, and almost broke Afghanistan’s economic back (read here, p58). After some months, Amanullah closed the border and sent many of the Indian emigrées either back or allowed them to move on to Soviet Central Asia.

Amanullah also looked further afar. He “was interested to promote Afghan influence in Sinkiang [today’s Xinjiang, Chinese Turkestan]” according to Andrew DW Forbes, an author on the region. (3) Local Muslim populations were frequently rising up against the Chinese and warlord rule during the first decades of the twentieth century in this region. Afghanistan tried to establish “independent diplomatic links between Kabul and [the Chinese authorities in] Urumchi,” Chinese Turkestan’s capital, and sent a delegation there in the summer of 1922. Forbes wrote: “As a result of this Afghan presence something of an Afghan cult began to develop at Yarkand [a city in southern Xinjiang], and the Chinese authorities in Kashgar [the second city in the province] were disturbed to hear that some local Turkic-speaking peoples were studying Pushtu [sic].” (4)

While, Amanullah was thus able to consolidate his power at home, Alem Khan soon came under new Soviet pressure. His 1919 victory against the Soviets had only given him a respite of two years.

Amir Sayyed Mir Muhammad Alem Khan of Bukhara in a contemporary photograph by Sergei M Prokudin-Gorskii, kept in the US Library of Congress

Historical excourse: Bukhara – Chengiz Khan’s heritage

Muhammad Schaibani, a descendant of Chengiz Khan, is considered to be the founder of the Khanate of Bukhara. He conquered the city in 1506, sending into exile the former ruler, Babur, who went on to establish the Moghul Empire in India and is buried in Kabul (see AAN about his garden here). In the first half of the eighteenth century, the Uzbek tribe of the Manghit established its dynasty there. In contrast to its predecessors, it did not belong to Chengiz Khan’s lineage and its rulers relinquished their traditional title “khan,” choosing “amir” instead – in fact, amir ul-momenin, “leader of the faithful.” This symbolised that they were also religious heads of state. Under the amir was a kush-begi (chief minister) who ran the internal administration of the Emirate. In the absence of the amir, he would run the country.

In the nineteenth century, Bukhara served as a refuge for a number of royal fugitives from Afghanistan, rivals to various Afghan amirs. Abdulrahman Khan (ruled 1880-1901), for example, came there under Amir Sher Ali Khan’s rule (1863-66 and 1868-78), and went on from there to Samarkand, then a Russian protectorate. In 1878, after Sher Ali’s death, he returned and was crowned Amir in Kabul in 1880 after two years of infighting with other contenders. He waged a brutal campaign to unify what today is known as Afghanistan. This brought him the nickname, the “Iron Amir.” (5)

The bilateral relationship between Bukhara and Afghanistan was also burdened by old territorial conflicts. Both ruled parts of Badakhshan on the other side of the Amu Darya river, despite an earlier treaty that proclaimed it the mutual border river. For example, Darwaz, today an Afghan district, was claimed by Bukhara. (6) More significantly, the former independent Uzbek khanates south of the Amu and north of the Hindukush felt much closer to Bukhara than to Afghanistan. But they had already come under the latter’s control under Abdul Rahman’s predecessors in the second half of the nineteenth century (Kunduz in 1859 and Maimana in 1866, for example), then known as Afghan Turkestan. Today, they form Afghanistan’s northern and north-eastern regions. In the mid-eighteenth century, the khutbawas still read in Kunduz in the name of the Amir of Bukhara as a sign of suzereignty, even though Bukhara never physically conquered the region (see here).

Bukhara: population and economy

At the beginning of the twentieth century, Bukhara’s territory comprised most of what is today’s southern and central Uzbekistan, between the Amu and Syr Darya (the Oxus and Iaxartes of old) – the old Mawr an-Nahr (Transoxania) –, and southwestern Tajikistan. With 203,000 square kilometres, it was larger than Syria and not much smaller than the United Kingdom. Its population was between 1.5 and three million people, according to different sources. The major ethnic groups were Uzbeks, Tajiks, Turkmen and Kirghiz. Apart from these, there were smaller groups of Jews, Arabs, Pashtuns (called “Afghans”), ‘Gypsies’ – called Luti, Lori or Ghorbat in Central Asia, and Jat or Jogi in Afghanistan –, Hindus and Persians.

Economically, the emirate was a backward agrarian country, with some sprinkles of home manufacturing. Much of it was desert, allowing for nomadic husbandry, camels and goats, mainly. Along the Zerafshan river that passes by Bukhara and Samarkand there were irrigated oases, mainly producing cotton and grain. Bukhara was famous for its silk production and the ‘Bukhara’ carpets that, however, were mainly produced by the Turkmen in western Bukhara. Many of the country’s riches emanated from the caravan transit trade between Russia, Persia and – through Afghanistan and the Pamirs – India and China. These routes formed parts of the ancient Silk Road.

Apart from Bukhara, there were two more Uzbek-dominated khanates in Central Asia. Khiva – also known as Khwarezm – was located at the lower reaches of the Syr Darya River. It had also been quasi-independent since 1917 but was much less important than Bukhara. Kokand, in the Ferghana valley, which also controlled Tashkent (today’s Uzbek capital), had been annexed by Russia and ceased to exist in 1876. The same was true with the vast steppeareas roamed by nomadic Turkmen and Kirghiz tribes, now Turkestan Gouvernement (province).

Russian protectorate

Bukhara became Russia’s victim during the nineteenth century’s Great Game between Russia and Britian over Central Asia. In 1865, Russian troops occupied Tashkent and laid the basis for the subjugation of all of Turkestan. A year later, the Russian army defeated the troops of Bukhara’s Amir Muzaffar Khan, Alem Khan’s grandfather, in a number of battles over five months. The Russians even captured the Amir’s tent, but Muzaffar managed to escape. He was offered tough conditions for peace, but he managed to drag out the negotiations under various pretexts, in order to gather new troops. In vain – in May 1868, the Russian troops moved further ahead, towards Samarkand, then an independent city-state, and again defeated the Bukharan army, 40,000-men strong, that had also laid claim to the city.

When the Russians occupied the first Bukharan territory, the border fort of Kata-Kurghan, the Amir agreed on the conclusion of a peace treaty that was signed on 23 June 1868. In this treaty, the Amir committed to paying reparations over a sum of 125,000 tela (500,000 roubles; two roubles were equal to one US dollar at that time). He also lost the right to conduct foreign relations with other states. Russian traders were allowed to move freely in Bukhara, to establish their own caravanserais and to acquire real estate. With that, Amir Muzaffar Khan became a vassal of the Russian empire, and the Emirate of Bukhara lost its independence.

At the same time, the Russians compensated Muzaffar by giving him control over Samarkand and another hitherto independent city-state, that of Shahr-e Sabz (read more here). It is famous as the place where Emperor Timur (also known as Tamerlan) is buried, in the famous Gur-e Emir compound.

One of Amir Muzaffar’s sons, Abdul Malek Tura, however, continued the resistance. He was finally defeated and fled to Afghanistan, forshadowing the fate of his uncle, later Amir Alem Khan. He died in Peshawar under British rule. (7)

After Muzaffar Khan’s death in 1885, his son Sayyed Abdul Ahad Bahadur Khan was enthroned on 4 November 1885. He was well educated, spoke Farsi and even some Russian and Arabian. He had visited Russia several times and extensively, including Moscow and St Petersburg, and travelled to Kiev, Odessa, Jekaterinoslav, Baku, Tbilisi, Batumi, Sevastopol and Baghcha Serai in the Crimea, the capital of the former local Tatar khanate. He vacationed almost every summer in Mineralnye Vody in the Caucasus or in Livadia, the Russian emperor’s summer palace outside Yalta, when the emperor’s family was there. Abdul Ahad Khan had the title of a general adjutant at the Russian court, was a general of the Russian cavalry and elected ataman (headman) of the Terek Cossacks, as well as commander of a Cossack regiment based in Orenburg, in today’s northern Kazakhstan. Furthermore, he was addressed as “His Highness.” In 1896 he attended the coronation of Czar Nikolai II.

In 1893, Ahad Khan brought his fourth son, Alem Khan, born in 1880, to the Russian capital, St Petersburg. He acquired land there on which a palace and a garden were built for him, called Del-Keso. He also had a mosque erected, costing half a million roubles. During the Russian-Japanese war of 1905, he donated one million gold roubles for the construction of a war ship, called “the Amir of Bukhara.” Alem Khan was sent to be educated at the Czar’s corps des pages, where, according to Abdullaev, he only “managed, in four years, to acquire basic knowledge of the Russian language and of European cultures.” The father called his son “Alem the Cow,” for his alleged laziness. Frederick M Bailey, however, a British spy who operated in Soviet Central Asia in 1918-19, wrote in his book Mission to Tashkent(1946) that the Amir actually spoke “well-enough French.”

When Amir Abdul Ahad Khan died in the night of 22 to 23 December in 1910 in his home country from a kidney disease, Sayed Mir Alem Khan became his successor on the throne, as the tenth – and last – Manghit Amir of Bukhara. (Central Asia, including Afghanistan, did not know a ruler’s dynastic succession of the eldest son – or child; see the turmoil before Abdul Rahman could take power in Afghanistan. In Bukhara, though, there seemed to be no such turmoil when Alem Khan was enthroned.)

When World War I broke out in 1914, the Amir “needed to prove his loyalty“ to Russia once more (see here) – as the Ottoman caliph had called for jihad against the allied powers, which included Russia. He donated “millions of rubles to the Russian war effort.”

A short intermezzo of independence

After Russia’s 1917 February Revolution, which saw the overthrow of monarchism, the Russian empire was shaken. The new rulers – starting in October 1917, the Bolsheviki – struggled to keep their grip on the Czar’s former possessions, including in Central Asia. Lenin had proclaimed the “peoples’ right to self-determination.” This awakened nationalist ambitions, not only in Bukhara and Khiva but also among different population groups in the region. Dozens of autonomous governments sprang up, from the Ukraine to Central Asia and Siberia. But soon, the centralists (others may call them colonialists) among the Soviets gained the upper hand.

The now again de facto independent rulers of Bukhara and Khiva realised that the fall of the Russian autocracy also threatened their regimes. Threats emerged both from inside and outside their countries, with local reformist opposition groups, supported by the Russian (later Soviet) Communist Party.

Following the advice of his Russian bankers and with their help, Alem Khan transferred parts of his wealth in Russia – first 150 million and later another 32 million Roubles – to banks in France, Germany and India. He had to leave documentation about the transfers behind, however, when he was later forced to flee Bukhara, and he never managed to get hold of the money again.

In early 1918, the oppositional Young Bukharans sent a message to the quasi-autonomous Soviet leadership of the former Russian Gouvernement of Turkestan in Tashkent, headed by the former railway worker Fedor Kolesov, that Bukhara’s local population was ready to revolt. In March, Kolesov himself appeared at the city’s walls at the head of his troops. He demanded that Alem Khan hand over power to the opposition. The Amir rejected the ultimatum. Kolesov’s troops failed in their attempt to storm Bukhara and were beaten back. Alem Khan demanded that all Soviet troops leave the whole of Turkestan.

After the Soviets’ retreat, both sides concluded a peace treaty on 25 March 1918. Tashkent was forced to recognise Bukhara’s full independence. But the Soviet leadership still considered Bukhara part of their realm. This was reflected in Lenin’s letter to Afghanistan’s ruler, Amanullah, dated 27 November 1919, in which he called Afghanistan “the only independent Musulman state in the world.”

Alem Khan, meanwhile, tried to make use of the respite following Kolesov’s defeat to counter the remaining Soviet threat. Hastily, he modernised his army, bought weapons and recruited Afghans and Turks as ordinary soldiers but also as military advisors. Throughout the course of 1918 and 1919, he established three élite guard regiments: a local one; a Turkish; and one “Arabian.” The local regiment included cavalry units and volunteers from Bukhara’s madrassas. Its members were called Sher Bacha Ser-kerde (“the self-sacrificing Lion Boys”; see here). The Turkish regiment consisted of Turkish regular soldiers. They had fled to Bukhara after the Ottoman were defeat by the British in Transcaucasia and Persia in the last year of World War I. There were also former Turkish prisoners of war who had been held in Russia but were released after the 1917 October Revolution. In this regiment, 60 to 70 Afghans also served, together with some 150 mercenaries who were Russian subjects. The “Arab” regiment, contrary to its name, consisted of Turkmen horsemen. The officers’ corps of all three regiments consisted of Turks, considered to be the best in the Emirate’s army.

Meanwhile, the Young Bukharans in exile worked closely with Lenin’s Bolsheviki party and the Comintern. In 1918, a faction of them established a separate Bukharan Communist Party. (8) This was part of the Comintern’s Central Asian bureau’s plan to “revolutionise the East.” This involved supporting revolutionary organisations in the Caucasus, Persia, India, Bukhara, Khiva and Chinese Turkestan (see here, p38-9).

Communism for Afghanistan too – or just a stepping stone to British-India?

For some time at least, according to some sources, Afghanistan was also a direct target of this Soviet policy. Soviet military leader Leon Trotski wrote to the Bolshevik Central Committee in August 1919 (quoted here, p 39) to sanction the establishment of “serious military bases” in Turkestan in order to be prepared for a “uprising to our south.” Abdullaev quoted Mikhail Frunze, the commander of the Soviet troops in Central Asia, suggesting to the Chief Commander of Russian troops in June 1920 to “transfer the scene of military actions and battles into Afghan territory.” This was supposed to happen after the planned seizure of Bukhara.

For that purpose, Abdullaev said, an

[…] Afghan Revolutionary “Party” was quickly formed in Tashkent in case this [Bukhara] plan should be implemented successfully. Deputy Chairman of Turkkommissia [of the Russian Communist Party’s Central Committee] V. V. Kuibyshev set the following tasks for the Afghan Revolutionary Party: to eliminate the existing despotic “system and to inaugurate a People’s Soviet Republic.” All this was proposed under the guise of “friendly” relations between Lenin and Amir Amanullah!

Later, after the fall of Bukhara, other groups emerged. Russian researcher Vladimir Boyko, quoting Russian archival documents, mentioned three (see here). First, a “revolutionary… Afghan party” was set up in the winter of 1920 in Tashkent under the Turkkommissia. In that same year, a republican “Central Committee of Young Afghan Revolutionaries (chairman: Haji Muhammad Yaqub)” was founded in Bukhara, “members of which were Afghan refugees living in Bukhara, Turkestan [and] Russia.” With 55 members led by a Muhammad Ghafar, the group “waited for Soviet instructions in Termez in 1920,” which apparently never came. The Afghan government, according to Boyko, was aware of its existence and demanded their repatriation, however the Bukharan government refused. He added that there is “no material about any practical activity of the committee” and that “its traces disappear already in 1921.” The same went for the third group, a “revolutionary circle” in Herat in 1920/21, that came into being “not without the help of Soviets diplomats and their agents” who attempted to link them up with the circles in Bukhara. Boyko called it “the first and perhaps only attempt of leftist radical organisation on Afghan soil.”

Furthermore, the official participants’ list of the September 1920 Baku “Congress of the Peoples of the East” included 40 Afghan participants. The congress, organised by the Comintern, included communist and non-communist participants from around 20 countries.The 40 Afghans on the list, according to a breakdown of participating ethnic groups, included 12 Jamshidis – a semi-nomadic group living on both sides of the Soviet-Afghan border –  and 11 Hazaras, probably migrant labourers in Russian Central Asia. The remaining 17 were perhaps some of the “192 Persians and Farsis” (maybe, Farsiwans, as Tajik speakers in western Afghanistan are called). The congress’ presidium, composed of representative of the ‘communist faction’ and ‘non-party delegates’ (also sometime called the ‘Muslim faction’) had one Afghan from each, Ag[h]azade from the communists and Azim from the non-party members. (According to a 1983 article in the Central Asian Survey, Aghazade was no Afghan but “an Iranian Communist, a worker in Baku.” See also this AAN article.) The Afghan group’s size was possibly exaggerated by the organisers.

Boyko wrote that the Soviets’ “organisational experiments with the Afghan emigrants [went] miserably” and “the results of these political projects are also not known.” Actually, those Afghan ‘communist’ groups were never mentioned again in any known source, and nothing is known of their fate. Later official Soviet sources used to quote a warning by Lenin that Afghanistan was “not ripe for revolution” and that the USSR should work with the “progressive Amir, Amanullah.”

Instead of targeting Afghanistan, the Comintern’s aim was to use Afghanistan as a stepping stone for fomenting revolution in British-India. The Soviet commissar of war, Leon Trotsky, wrote in 1919 (quoted here): “The international situation is developing so that the way to Paris and London passes via the towns of Afghanistan, Punjab, and Bengal.”Lenin declared in 1920 that “England is our greatest enemy. It is in India that we must strike them hardest.” (9) The plan was to establish clandestine bases, infiltration routes and the delivery of weapons into these regions. Moscow, through the Comintern, had also started supporting the Indian government in exile set up in Kabul in December 1915, then still with German support (more here).

In Lenin’s November 1919 letter to Amanullah (quoted above), Lenin encouraged Amanullah in his pan-Islamic views and at the same time questioned the independence of Bukhara:

At present, flourishing Afghanistan is the only independent Muslim state in the world, and fate gives the Afghan people the great historic task of uniting around itself all enslaved Muslim peoples and leading them on the road to freedom and independence.

Amanullah on the rise

Amanullah’s caliphate dreams seem to have been strongest between when he became Amir on 28 February 1919 and the Third Anglo-Afghan War he started on 3 May the same year. Amanullah embarked on what Boyko called, in a 2004 book, a line of foreign policy based on Pan-Islamism “aiming at the establishment of a Central Asian Con-/Federation consisting of the Khanates of Khiva and Kokand, the Emirate of Bukhara and Afghanistan itself after the fall of the Ottoman empire.” Tajik researcher Abdullaev cited a letter from Amanullah’s mother, Ulya Hazrat, to Amanullah from 1919, saying “Our enemies draw large profit from our family’s [ie Islamic umma’s] differences, topple Muslim governments, and Muslim peoples are paralysed in their iron fangs.” (10)

According to a second article written by Abdullaev, Amanullah was initially interested in recruiting the Basmachi movement for his planned war of independence. This movement had originated in the Ferghana valley, originally a part of the Khanate of Kokand. After the 1917 February Revolution, local nationalists had set up a local government, the so-called ‘Kokand Autonomy’. It was led by the Kazakh Mostafa Chokai (Russian form: Chokaev) who had been a member of the last pre-revolutionary Russian parliament. This government claimed control over all of Russian Turkestan and expected to become a member of a newly organised Russian confederation.

In practice, Chokai’s government barely controlled more than Kokand city and only had a few troops. The Bolsheviki crushed it in a single day, on 11 February 1918. (11) A massacre of the local population followed. The surviving local forces went to the mountains and received support from Uzbek, Kirghiz and Turkmen tribes, forming the Basmachi movement. Composed of around 40 independently operating groups with 20,000 fighters in 1920, it was led by Ergash Bey, a mullah from Kokand. He had been elected the movement’s overall commander at a shura in March 1919 and given the title amir ul-momenin (see here, p43-4). Although Ergash was killed in the summer of 1920, the Basmachi soon controlled large areas in the region. In December 1918, the Basmachi dispatched a delegation to Kabul to raise support. It was received by foreign minister Mahmud Tarzi, the Turkish military advisor, Sami, and even by Amanullah (see here, p66), who, at the time, was not yet Amir but governor of Kabul and in charge of the army and the treasury. They also met Tura, Alem Khan’s uncle who had led the anti-Russian resistance in 1868 and then fled abroad.

Amanullah’s plans to recruit the Basmachi, however, did not come to fruition. He invaded British India with domestic troops, starting in May 1919. When the third Anglo-Afghan war concluded on 8 August 1919 with the peace treaty of Rawalpindi, it re-instated Afghanistan as a fully independent country. After that, Amanullah’s interest for the Basmachi quickly waned and good relations with Soviet Russia took precedence.

Almost immediately after the peace treaty with Britain, an Afghan diplomatic mission led by Muhammad Wali Khan departed for Moscow on their way to participate in the Versailles Peace Conference, in order to assert the country’s newly gained independence. The mission also passed through Bukhara, where it arrived on 6 June 1919 and Wali Khan met the Amir. Wali awarded him a medal and handed over a letter from Amanullah, in which the Afghan ruler explained – apparently replying to a request from Bukhara – that Afghanistan was unable to join the fight against the Bolsheviki. Afghanistan, he argued, was still preoccupied with the British, who continued to hold areas across the Durand Line, which Afghanistan considered its own. Nevertheless, Amanullah sent some support to Bukhara, six cannons and military instructors who joined the army’s general staff and helped to manufacture ammunition. (12)

Similarly, Amanullah kept some limited support for the Basmachi movement. In early December 1919, a ten-member mission led by Afghan army colonel Muhammad Akbar Khan arrived at the headquarters of one of the Basmachi leaders, Madamin Beg (actually Muhammad Amin Ahmadbekov) who operated in the Margilan area of the Ferghana valley, not far from the city of Kokand. The Afghans promised to deliver him 5,000 rifles and to send some 1,000 men to fight the Bolsheviki. In February 1920, a Basmachi delegation from Kokand arrived in Kabul to press for the promised help. But by the early 1920s none of it seemed to have arrived.

In the broader view, Amanullah had to choose between building an independent national state and fostering Islamic solidarity. After calculating the Soviets would be able to defeat the Basmachi and the White Russian contingents, he refrained from actively supporting his rival Bukhara and the insurgents in Ferghana. In doing so, Amanullah also attempted to prevent any British influence in Bukhara.

Afghan-Soviet relations, however, were all but warm. According to Bailey, Nikolai Bravin, the first Soviet ambassador to Kabul, described them as “pompous but without cordiality.” Amanullah even turned Lenin’s Pan-Islamist encouragement against the Soviets from time to time, reminding Lenin, for example, of their joint commitment to safeguard Bukhara and Khiva’s independence. He even wrote to the leaders of socialist Bukhara to establish religious bodies to make sure that the country’s population attended prayer, according to Boyko (p 113).

According to Abdullaev, the British were also keen to avoid any step that could have provided the Soviets with a justification to export the revolution to Afghanistan and India. Support for the Amir of Bukhara and the Basmachis could have been such a step. Britain thus applied its policy of ‘masterly inactivity’ from the Great Game.

The end of the Bukhara Emirate and retreat of Alem Khan

Amanullah’s calculations on Soviet influence in the region proved to be right. The Bolshevik army became substantially stronger in Central Asia, and by April 1920 had defeated the main Basmachi contingents. Elsewhere, they subdued the White Russian generals one by one, who had been in contact with and supported anti-Soviet forces in the whole region, including the Basmachi and Bukhara.

In late August 1920 the Soviets attacked Bukhara again. This time, they conquered the city within a few days. Russian sources say that the Amir’s Turkish regiment, with its Afghan fighters, played a crucial role in their attempts to defend Bukhara. According to Abdullaev, the Amir’s kush-begi Mirza Nezamuddin Urganji (he was from Khiva) tried a counterattack with several thousand fighters, including the Afghans, who had gathered with the Amir in his palace, Setara-ye Mah Hesar (“Moon Star Palace”), a few kilometres to the east of the city on 1 September, but was defeated. On the same day, the Amir ordered the evacuation of the city. Apart from his financial documents, he even had to leave part of his family behind and retreated to Dushanbe in mountainous eastern Bukhara, today’s capital of Tajikistan. There he tried to mobilise resistance against the Soviets. Resistance in Bukhara city continued until 4 September.

As a result of the attack, Bukhara was heavily destroyed. Twenty palaces, 29 mosques, around 100 shops and 3,000 houses were destroyed, according to Abdullaev. On 8 October 1920, the Young Bukharans and their Soviet supporters proclaimed the Bukharan People’s Soviet Republic and concluded a friendship treaty with Soviet Russia. Four years later, in October 1924, the still de jure independent state joined the Soviet federation and was integrated into the Uzbek Socialist Soviet Republic.

Meanwhile, Alem Khan found Amanullah to be less supportive than ever. On 13 September 1920, less then two weeks after Alem Khan was deposed, a Soviet-Afghan friendship treaty was signed. In this treaty, both sides recognised the independence of Bukhara – then of course already of the Soviet-dominated People’s Republic – and Amanullah received Soviet military and other aid in exchange (see also this AAN analysis).

Alem Khan also appealed to the British, but in vain, such as a 21 October 1920 letter to his “brother” King George V, sent via the Bukharan delegation in Kashgar in Chinese Turkestan (still loyal to him) and the British Consul-General there (quoted from Abdullaev):

I hope that in this hour of need Your Majesty will extend to me your kindness and favour and send me from your High Government by way of friendly assistance £100,000 English as a State Loan, also 20,000 rifles with ammunition and 30 guns with ammunition and 10 aeroplanes with necessary equipment. These things may kindly be dispatched to me quickly with my above mentioned officials, and this will make me happy. As to sending me assistance from Your side, you know best how to deal with and fight the Russians, but I shall be very grateful if 2000 armed soldiers can be sent to me quick via [Qarategin]. This will strengthen the bonds of friendship and give expression of our alliance.

But London did not want to complicate relations with Soviet Russia at this point (it had intervened in the Civil War in Russia with troops in the north, the Caucasus and in what today is Turkmenistan. It had then withdrawn them after the defeat of the Whites), fearing Soviet influence in Afghanistan could stoke the Pashtun tribes in India’s North West Frontier Province into uprising. This fear was later laid to rest with the March 1921 British-Soviet trade agreement in which Moscow, gripped by economic crisis, agreed to stop all infiltration into India, but by then it was too late for Alem Khan.

The consolidation of Soviet power in Central Asia led to mass emigration, mainly to Afghanistan. Many of today’s Uzbek, Turkmen and Tajik communities in northern Afghanistan have their roots in Bukhara and Khiva, on the northern side of the Amu Darya (more detail here).

Destructions in Bukhara after the Soviet capture in 1920. Via Uzbek travel.

Exile in Afghanistan: Alem Khan leaves Bukhara forever

In late February 1921, as the Red Army approached Dushanbe, the biggest town still under Amir Alem Khan’s control, he took the decision to leave his country. On 4 March 1921, he and his entourage crossed the Amu border river in what today is Tajikistan’s Khatlon province into Afghanistan, leaving “noble” Bukhara behind forever, although he did not know this at the time. According to Bailey, hewas accompanied by the former Afghan consul to Tashkent, Muhammad Aslam Khan and his royal household, as well as 300 fighters belonging to Bukhara’s regular, defeated army comprised of 200 Bukharans and 100 Afghans. The rest of the Amir’s surviving forces joined the Basmachi.

Alem Khan arrived in Khanabad, in today’s Kunduz province, then the centre of the Afghan northeastern province of Qataghan. He apparently did so without consent from Kabul. It took Amanullah almost three months, until mid-May 1921, to permit him to proceed to Kabul. This was accompanied by a cordial letter in which he wrote, quoted by Abdullaev: “I and you are united in belief, my mother considers you her son, therefore come to Kabul and visit.”

Upon Alem Khan’s arrival on 17 May 1921, Amanullah provided the displaced Amir and his entourage an honorary residence in the centre of Kabul (see part 1 by Jolyon Leslie) and organised a large reception for him. Apart from two meetings in the first three months, Amanullah avoided personal contact with the deposed Bukharan ruler, according to Abdullaev.

Still, Alem Khan did not give up hope of recapturing Bukhara. He continued to write to the British in India, but, censored by the Afghan government, his letters never arrived. He also unsuccessfully appealed several times to Amanullah, including through the English Ambassador in Kabul, for permission to go on a pilgrimage to Mecca via India.

Meanwhile, when the new government of the Bukharan People’s Republic learned of Amanullah’s invitation to Alem Khan, it sent a letter with three demands, quoted by Abdullaev: “1) to disarm and intern the armed forces in the Amir’s entourage and to hand over the weapons to the people of Bukhara; 2) to bar the former Amir from being present near the Bukharan border and in Kabul; 3) to receive the former Amir as a normal citizen and ban him from gathering any grouping around him.”

Amanullah Khan accepted these demands almost totally. As a result, according to Bailey (p299-300), “The Afghans treated [Alem Khan] as a prisoner and censored all his letters, but allowed him a sum each month for his expenses.” On his trips through the country, he was never allowed to travel further then Jalalabad, in order to make sure he did not escape to British India.

Amanullah had Alem Khan shifted to Qala-ye Fatuh in the Chahrdeh valley some 20 kilometres from what was then Kabul city. This was to keep him away from the diplomatic circles in the capital. In India, according to Abdullaev, the British were not unhappy about this arrangement; there seem to have been deliberations that if Alem Khan arrived, he would not be allowed to stay but settle in Ceylon (now Sri Lanka) or the Seychelles. (13) According to Red Army intelligence reports, cited by Abdullaev, the Amir still managed to maintain communication with the Bukharan emigrants that had settled mainly in northern Afghanistan. He tried to find out about the military situation in his country and also attempted to maintain contact with the Basmachi. (14)

The Enver Pasha episode

One of the most remarkable political manoeuvres in those already stormy years temporarily brought new hope to exiled Alem Khan in 1921. This had to do with Enver Pasha, the former Young Turk and Ottoman minister of war (1913-18), who had arrived in the region as an ally of the Soviets. Or so it seemed.

Shortly before the end of World War I, Enver had been exfiltrated from Turkey by the Kaiser’s fleet to Germany. With Germany not able to support him any further after its own defeat and capitulation, he went to Soviet Russia. He arrived with recommendations from Karl Radek, one of the Comintern’s key leaders, who operated in Germany during its post-war upheavels. Enver seemed to have persuaded Radek and other Soviet leaders that he might help them in their aim of ‘revolutionising the East’ and subduing the Basmachi uprising. In September 1920, Enver participated in the Baku Congress of the Peoples of the East. In November 1920, he was received by Lenin, who took him up on his offer to be despatched to Central Asia. Enver’s brother Cemal Pasha joined him from Afghanistan, where he had arrived in 1916, likely as a military instructor. In the end, the Soviets did not allow him to go with Enver, according to Turkish historian Suhnaz Yilmaz.

From Moscow, Enver first went back to Germany to buy weapons, then onto the Caucasus in the summer of 1921 and finally to socialist Bukhara, where he  arrived on 8 November. Three days later he left the city, ostensibly on a hunting trip. He was accompanied by then-Bukharan head of state, Osman Khwaja(ev), two more ministers and a 90-strong group. Khwajaev had fallen out with the Soviets, who, despite Bukhara’s (formal) independence, had told him they would maintain a military presence in the country, and requested Afghan help to maintain its independence. (Abdullaev, in contrast, speaks of an attempted coup by Khwajaev, in cooperation with Turkish officers helping to train the Bukharan army.) They then linked up with Basmachi leader Ibrahim Bek, an Uzbek of the Loqay tribe, in the region of Hessar near the border with Afghanistan.

Ibrahim, though, thought they were Soviet spies. He disarmed and detained the group for almost three months (more here). He only released them after he received letters from Amanullah and the Amir of Bukhara who appointed Enver supreme commander of his forces (amer lashkar) and his deputy (naeb amir). Enver’s new titles had been held by Ibrahim Beg so far, so the latter refused to subordinate himself to the newcomer. Soon after, however, at a kurultai (assembly) of the Basmachi leaders, Enver was confirmed in his positions under the influence of representatives of the Amir (more here. The Basmachi forces unified, at least theoretically, into a Lashkar Islam (Army of Islam), with Enver as its leader.

In February 1922, Enver’s troops captured Dushanbe and brought most of Eastern Bukhara under their control. In March 1922, they laid siege to the city of Bukhara but failed to take it. After Soviet purges of ‘nationalists’ in Bukhara in the spring of 1922, the rest of the Young Bukharans joined him. Some 140 Afghan volunteers also joined him, “despite the official policy of Kabul” not to support the Basmachi (as Abdullaev put it). (15) Abdullaev cited an Afghan source, namely a semi-documentary novel by Khalilullah Khalili (later the top poet at the Afghan court), that one of the volunteers was Habibullah Kalakani, who, in 1929, toppled Amanullah and became King Habibullah II for nine months (more in this AAN background).

The Afghan volunteers were apparently headed by Afghan officers and – for religious guidance – by a Panjshiri cleric, Mawlavi Abdul Hai, according to Abdullaev. Enver made him Sheikh ul-Islam, indicating that Abdul Hai was a senior Islamic scholar. (Another source, here, p72, has his name as Abul Khair.)

The volunteers were sent by Muhammad Nader Khan, who would later become Afghanistan’s king (1929-33). He then served as Minister of War and had been sent to Qataghan’s provincial capital, Khanabad, to keep an eye on events beyond the country’s northern border. There he met former Bukharan president, Khwaja(ev), corresponded with Enver and sent weapons and ammunition to the other bank of the river. The letters were later found by the Soviets in Enver’s camp (see here).

In July 1922, in a letter to the Soviet foreign office, Nader Khan allegedly threatened that Afghanistan would annex Bukhara if Soviet activities against its independence did not cease. (16) It is not clear whether that was his private policy or expressed Amanullah’s course (possibly with ‘plausible deniability’).

By this time, Enver had developed his own plan to establish a Turkic empire in the region, with himself at its head. Whether that had been his idea from the start of his Soviet enterprise, or whether the mid-1921 Soviet rapprochement with the new Turkish leader, Kemal Pasha (later Atatürk), a former friend but now Enver’s rival, made him rethink about the Soviets, is still anyone’s guess.

In May 1922, Enver repeated Alem Khan’s earlier ultimatum to the Soviet leadership to withdraw all its forces from Turkestan. But he failed to bring most Basmachi fighters under his command and in practice led only 3,000 out of a total of 16,000 at that point, according to Becker (p304, see FN 7). Ibrahim Beg even “sabotaged Enver’s orders, informed the Red Army about his plans, and openly clashed with his forces”, according to Kirill Nourzhanov, a Kirghiz historian. Enver also alienated Alem Khan by referring to himself as “Amir of Turkestan” and issuing decrees for Bukhara in his own name, using a seal with the inscription “Commander-in-Chief of all the Armies of Islam, Son-in-Law of the Caliph [he was married to a granddaughter of Sultan Abdulmejit I, who ruled from 1839-61] and Representative of the Prophet.”

In the first half of 1922, Alem Khan broke off relations with Enver, depriving him of much-needed financial support. The Soviets, meanwhile, were able to cut off his supply routes from northern Afghanistan in June. They hunted Enver down with what today would be called counterinsurgency units and local militias recruited from among ‘reconciled’ Basmachis. These forces killed him on 4 August 1922 near the village of Ab Dara in Baljuwan district, not far from Dushanbe. It was Eid al-Adha, and Enver had given leave to most of his troops to celebrate. The first newspaper to report Enver’s end was Ettehad-e Islam, published in Mazar-e Sharif, in late October 1922 (quoted here, p200).

Enver’s deputy Haji Bekir Sami (actually Same’) Bey took over as amer-e lashkar. (17) He had been taken prisoner of war as a Turkish officer by Russian troops during World War I, escaped to Bukhara and joined Enver. After Enver’s death in August 1922, he briefly escaped to Afghanistan but returned later that year and fought until July 1923. Then, however, he had to give up under increasing Soviet pressure and left for Afghanistan, for good. There he was assassinated soon after, allegedly by the Turkish secret police.

Before Enver’s death, after an official warning from the Soviets, Amir Amanullah ordered the Afghan volunteers home on 25 July 1922. He gave them 20 days and threatened those who would not comply with the loss of their Afghan citizenship and confiscation of their property (see here, p 136). Nader Khan was demoted for his cooperation with Enver and sent abroad as Afghan minister (ambassador) to Paris. Mawlavi Abdulhai was arrested and imprisoned in Khanabad when back in Afghanistan. The same may have been the case with Habibullah Kalakani, who, according to Khalili’s book, also served time in prison. According to Eden Naby, writing in 2004, Afghan descendants of the soldiers sent by Amanullah in support of the Amir of Bukhara in 1922 are living in and around Bukhara but have lost their original language, Pashto. (18)

At the same time, Amanullah seemed to have supported Alem Khan’s attempts to regain control over the Basmachi movement. In Kabul, a meeting was convened between the Amir and the Basmachi movement’s main leaders in August 1922. (19) It was only after Haji Sami’s disappearance on the Central Asian battlefield in mid-1923, however, that Alem Khan re-appointed Ibrahim Beg as Basmachi supreme commander in July 1923. Real unity never developed, though, and the movement’s diverse groups were defeated one by one by the Soviets. Ibrahim continued his fight for another three years. In 1926, he fled to Afghanistan, where he joined Alem Khan. Thefew other surviving Basmachi leaders did the same by the mid-1920s. Fuzail Maqsum, a Tajik from southern Bukhara, was one of last who gave up in May 1929. Kurshermat (real name: Sher Muhammad) from Ferghana died in Afghan exile.

Further west, Basmachi leader Junaid Khan, a Turkmen from the Yomut tribe, still threatened the city of Khiva in 1926. There, he had been the ruler from February 1916 to January 1920. In 1916 he had toppled the local Khan (and installed a new one as nominal ruler), and, in 1920, similarly to what had happened in Bukhara, he was overthrown by Soviet and local reformist forces, the Young Khivans. And, much like had happened in Bukhara, they established a Khwarezm People’s Soviet Republic. During his rule, Junaid had enjoyed Afghan support. In December 1919, there were 400 regular Afghan soldiers deployed in Merw, according to official British Indian files. When Khwarezm, much like in Bukhara, joined the Soviet Union in 1924 against the will of the Young Khivans, they joined Junaid Khan’s forces. After another defeat in June 1926, Junaid Khan also went to Afghanistan and settled in Herat.

Intermezzo: Habibullah (Kalakani) II

Fate changed again for the Central Asian diaspora in Afghanistan when Habibullah Kalakani overthrew Amanullah in January 1929. He officially supported the Basmachi movement, and Alem Khan quickly capitalised on the political change. He convened a meeting of the main Basmachi leaders in Kabul within the same month. Junaid, Ibrahim Beg and Maqsum’s men all supported the new regime in Kabul and carried the fight back over the Soviet border. Ibrahim, who was quasi-garrison chief in Khanabad, was tasked to liberate Tajikistan (20) by Alem Khan. Maqsum operated from Badakhshan. When pro-Amanullah forces from Soviet Central Asia attacked Basmachi positions inside Afghanistan and even briefly captured Mazar-e Sharif in May 1929, supported by Soviet troops (see here) (21), Maqsum directly worked under Habibullah’s minister of defence, Sayed Hussain.

Afghan support for the Basmachi soon stopped again after Habibullah II’s relatively quick overthrow in October 1929. Nader Shah, as he was then called as King, turned against the Basmachi on Afghan soil after a short period during which Ibrahim was still assistant governor in Mazar-e Sharif. This new political turn was a result of Soviet pressure. This was another heavy blow to the Basmachi, depriving them of their hinterlands. Nader even began pushing them actively back over the Amu Darya border in 1930. (22) There, Junaid Khan led a brief resurgence of the Basmachi movement in 1931. Then, Soviet collectivisation in what is now Turkmenistan created new resistance. He was defeated in 1933 and fled to Iran, where he died in 1936.

Ibrahim Beg was caught by the Soviets in June 1931, transferred to Tashkent, interrogated, tried and condemned to death. He was executed in August 1932.

Amir Alem’s last years: the dream dies

Junaid and Ibrahim’s end was not the last word on the anti-Soviet Bukharan and Basmachi forces, nor on Alem Khan’s ambitions to regain power in Bukhara. Small Basmachi remnants were still active throughout the 1930s and, according to some sources, even into the 1940s. Then, Western sources reported attempts by the Japanese and German intelligence services to re-launch the Basmachi insurgency under the leadership of Alem Khan. This was meant to undermine Soviet resistance against Hitler’s Operation Barbarossa, the attempt to defeat Stalin. Boris Kogan wrote for the Small Wars Journal in 2011 that a “massive cross-border invasion was planned for the summer of 1943, its object being the reinstatement of the Emir in Bukhara.

Available sources do not provide information as to whether Alem Khan was involved in this planning. Elements in the German leadership had contemplated a similar plan for Afghanistan, namely organising an invasion of Afghan forces from Soviet Turkestan (after the envisaged German occupation of the region, which never occurred) in order to bring back Amanullah to power, who, meanwhile, lived in Mussolini’s Italy. According to German files, Amanullah was to be told about the plan only when it had been set in motion (which never happened). (23) Anyway, as Kagan continued about the plan for Bukhara:

It was not to be. Soviet intelligence penetration of the Basmachi organizations of Afghanistan was very thorough. Simultaneously, throughout the 1930’s and 1940’s the British had increased their influence over Afghanistan’s foreign policy. The final nail in the coffin of the insurgency was a series of purges undertaken by the Afghan police against the Central Asian diaspora in 1943, probably at the behest of these two foreign powers, which culminated in the aged Emir being called before the King of Afghanistan, Zahir Shah [who had followed Nader Shah after his assassination in 1933], and being ordered to cease and desist in no uncertain terms.

In early 1943, Alem Khan received the news about the defeat of Hitler’s troops in Stalingrad and the Caucasus. This made Germany’s plans for Central Asia and India obsolete, and destroyed his final hope of a return.

View of the tomb of Amir Alem Khan of Bukhara in Kabul. Photo: Vladimir N Plastun

Less than a year later, on 29 April 1944, Alem Khan died in the presence of his wives and children in Kabul. One of his wives, Nazera, who had been born in Faizabad, Badakhshan, is buried with him in the cemetery of Shuhada-ye Salehin in Kabul.

Abdullaev describes the last days of the Amir of Bukhara: “The heavily sick and almost completely blind Alem Khan turned, in the last days [sic] of his life, into an ardent karakul skin merchant and rentier. He also was forced to give up his dreams about [regaining] his wealth, as due to the activities of the Soviet government his deposits [in Western Europe] remained blocked.” In his residence, it was reported, he kept two glass vessels with soil from Bukhara and two flags of his home country, green with a yellow moon, star and the hand of Fatema and two verses from the Quran.” According to contemporary tales, Abdullaev reported, “he loved to sit at the banks of the Kabul River and recite Persian verses about Bukhara the Noble.”

The Amir’s offspring: Back to Bukhara?

According to a Tajik journalist, there are more than 300 progeny of the Amir living in Afghanistan and the US, Germany and Turkey, as well as in Russia. Twelve sons and ten daughters were still alive abroad in 2016, according to Uzbek writer Artur Samari who has collected information about Alem Khan’s family.

According to him, three of his sons had been left behind in Bukhara in 1920. They were sent to be re-educated in the USSR in a home for children of fallen Bolsheviki in Moscow. Alem Khan contacted the Soviet government for them to be released to Afghanistan, but this was denied.

The youngest of the three, Rahim Khan, attempted to escape to his father in Afghanistan before World War II but was arrested at the border and executed. The eldest son, Sultan Murad, who had denounced his father at the age of seven in 1929, graduated from the Workers’ Faculty (a new university designed for the proletariat) and worked in a factory. But, thirsty for knowledge, he learned English, which in those days was sufficient enough to be suspected a British spy. He was arrested as an enemy of the people and later died in jail.

The middle son, Shah Murad, also had to publicly dissociate himself from his father in an open letter published in the Soviet daily Izvestiya (quoted here). He undertook military training and later joined the Kuibyshev Military Academy, where he became a teacher. As a member of the Soviet Army, he participated in World War II and was seriously wounded in 1944. After the war, he returned to the academy as a lieutenant-general and received a professorship. He died in 1985 in Moscow at the age of 75. Most people around him were unaware of his background. Samari interviewed one of his classmates, who told him how Shah Murad – then officially Shah Murad Olimov – was once shown a book with a photo of his father and started crying.

The amir’s son, General Shahmurad Olimov, in a Soviet uniform. Photo c/o Vladimir N Plastun.

Three children belonging to Alem Khan’s last wife, a Tajik from Hesar in what was a part of Bukhara and whom he had married in Kabul, lived in Afghanistan until the Soviet occupation in 1979. One of them, Shukria Rad Alemi, the Amir’s youngest daughter, graduated as one of four women in the first journalism class of Kabul University in 1966 and then worked as a broadcaster in Radio Afghanistan, the Voice of America (VoA) reported in 2002. Her husband was also a journalist. In early 1980, three months after the Soviet invasion,they saw themselves compelled to migrate onwards to Pakistan, and from there through Germany to the US. In 1982, Shukria Rad Alemi joined the VoA and worked as a broadcaster, editor, host and producer for its Dari Service, until 2002 (on an occasional basis, in the later years).Two of the Amir’s sons, Sayed Amer Khan Alemi and Sayed Akbar Alemi, worked for the VoA’s Dari division.

In 2006, Bilal Shams, a Tajik journalist, met Shukria Rad Alemi, who by that time was living in a retirement home in Washington DC, aged 93. He reported that she told him she did not have any contact with her relatives in either Tajikistan or Russia.

Other daughters and relatives continued to live in Afghanistan. Shams met two of Alem Khan’s grandsons, Sayed Azam Azizi Bukhari  – also a journalist by profession but now “in small business” – and Sayed Abdul Rasul Ghafuri Bukhari, in Kabul. They accompanied him to the Amir’s grave. He also met two daughters, 80 year-old Nazakat and 73 year-old Muslima, living with the grandsons; the latter had been born in Afghanistan. According to Shams, all expressed their interest in returning to their home country, now Tajikistan. The grandsons told him that, if there was a possibility, they would like to transfer the remains of the deceased Amir to their homeland, as requested in his will. They said: “Afghanistan is not the homeland for us; our homeland in on the other side of the Panj river [how the Amu is called upstream].” The two women also said they would “very much” like to go back to their homeland.

In 2006, Shams wrote, the grandsons turned to the Embassy of Tajikistan, requesting permission for Alem Khan’s family members to participate in the celebration of the country’s independence day, but they were not received. In 1994, then-Uzbek President Islam Karimov allowed them to visit his country, but they were asked to leave after ten days.

Before he passed away, the former Amir Alem Khan put in his will that the following Farsi language verses be enscribed on his cenotaph:

امیر بی وطن زار و حقیر است گدا گر به وطن میرد – امیر است

[Amir-e be-watan zar o haqir ast 

gada gar ba watan me-ra(wa)d – amir ast

An Amir without a homeland is miserable and insignificant
The beggar if he died in the homeland – is an Amir]

The inscription still can be read on Alem Khan’s white marble sarcophagus on Shuhada-ye Salehin cemetery. There it lies in its one-storey, dilapidated mausoleum under a domed roof, behind an iron grill the friendly custodian opened up for us. The mausoleum is surrounded by more graves belonging to Alem Khan’s family members and former advisors. Afghan elders told one of the authors that old men’s bodies are still brought from Bukhara to be buried here.

Edited by Danielle Moylan

Amir or beggar? Alem Khan’s sarcophagus with his self-chosen inscription in Kabul. Photo: Vladimir N Plastun.

 

(*) Dr (DSc) Vladimir N Plastun is professor for Oriental Studies at Novosibirsk State University. He worked in Afghanistan as Director of the Soviet Cultural Centre in Kabul (1979-80), then as an invited civilian specialist-ethnographer in the Afghan military forces (1987-88) and as correspondent of the Pravda newspaper in Afghanistan (1989-1991). In 2009, during a research trip to Kabul the author located the tomb of the amir with the help of local people.

Translation of Vladimir Plastun’s Russian contributions to this article: Joachim Ludwig.

 

(1) In the capital of Turkestan, Tashkent, a Soviet government had taken over in 1918. But it was cut off from Central Russia by the ‘White Guards’, who controlled the railway connections through what today is northwestern Kazakhstan and the Ural mountains, and could not rely on support from the Soviet leadership under Lenin and Trotsky in Petersburg. It was also challenged by internal strife.

(2) Louis Dupree, Afghanistan, New Delhi, Rama Publishres 1980, p447 and Leon B Poullada, Reform and Rebellion in Afghanistan 1919-1929, Cornell University Press 1973, p47.

(3) Andrew D. W. Forbes (1986), Warlords and Muslims in Chinese Central Asia: a political history of Republican Sinkiang 1911–1949. Cambridge, CUP Archive, p376.

(4) This included subjects of Amir Amanullah and of the British Empire. Accoording to Forbes, p69 (see FN 3), there were “numerous Afghan merchants (particularly from Badakhshan) [who] had long resided [in Xinjiang] under British protection.” Contemporary sources, such as the German archaeologist Albert von Le Coq, also observed Pashtun traders from Swat, Bajaur, other areas in British-India, and from Afghanistan proper (Von Land und Leuten in Ostturkestan, Leipzig, Zentralantiquariat der DDR 1982, Reprint of 1928 original, p10 FN 1).

(5) Abdul Rahman’s unification of Afghanistan – in fact the creation of a small empire – was particularly brutal against the Shia Hazaras of quasi-independent central Afghanistan. They lost many of their original areas of settlement that were distributed among Pashtun tribes who had supported Abdulrahman’s conquest. Scores were killed or sold into slavery, and many were forced to flee abroad. The large Hazara community in Quetta and elsewhere in today’s Pakistan are a result of those events.

(6) In Badakhshan, disputed areas were Kulab and Darwāz, north of the Amu Darya that had been conquered by the khanate of Kunduz in the early 19th century. This river had been made the Afghan-Bukharan border in a treaty between Ahmad Shah Abdali (ruled 1747-79) and the Amir of Bukhara, Mahmud Bey (locally: Bi; Wilde has Muhammad Danyal Bi as the then-Bukharan ruler) in 1768. On that occasion, the Amir of Bukhara gifted Ahmad Shah a cloak believed to be have been worn by the Prophet Muhammad, that is kept in a shrine in Kandahar (and which, famously, Taleban leader Mullah Muhammad Omar, took out of its silver trunk in 1996 when he was proclaimed Amir-ul-Momenin to bolster his legitimacy; more about the cloak in this AAN dispatch). The treaty, however, did not hold. In 1818, for example, Bulkhara seized Balkh when Afghanistan was mired in a dynastic war of succession between Dost Muhammad and Mahmud Khan (quoted here).

After the 1895 Anglo-Russian treaty that regulated the Afghan northern border, the Amir of Bukhara retreated from trans-Amu (Afghan) Darwaz in 1896. He had already withdrawn from Shighnan and Roshan in 1894 (GP Tate, The Kingdom of Afghanistan: A Historical Sketch, p191).

(7) See AS Morrsion, Russian Rule in Samarkand 1868-1910, Oxford 2008, pp 21-2.

Another of Amir Muzaffar’s sons, the eldest one and heir apparent, Sayyed Abdul Malik Mirza, born 1849, had seized and ruled Karshi, in southern Tajikistan, independently of his father, until 1868. He then had to flee to Afghanistan. Later, he was exiled to Abbottabad in India (now Pakistan) and married (amongst others) one of Amir Muhammed Afzal Khan’s daughters, 1866-67 Amir of Kabul (see here).

(8) Originally, there was a Communist Party of Turkestan, allied with Lenin’s Bolsheviki party, which also had branches in Bukhara, but only members among the Russians living in the Emirate. The Bukharan Communist Party (BCP) was established at the initiative of the Soviet leadership in Tashkent between April and November 1918, when it held its first congress in Tashkent and joined the Comintern. The rest of the Young Bukharans joined the BCP in 1920 after the Amir was dethroned. Its leader, Abdul Qadir Mohiuddin, became socialist Bukhara’s first head of state (source: Seymour Becker, Russia’s Protectorates in Central Asia: Bukhara and Khiva 1985-1924, Harvard 1968, p280-1, 303).

(9) It is not clear whether this quote is genuine. But in 1915, Lenin had written (in Socialism and War, quoted here):

If tomorrow, Morocco were to declare war on France, India on England, Persia or China on Russia, and so forth, those would be “just” “defensive” wars, irrespective of who attacked first; and every Socialist would sympathise with the victory of the oppressed, dependent, unequal states against the oppressing, slave-owning, predatory “great” powers.

(10) Vladimir Boyko, Афганистан на начальном этапе независимого развития (1920-е годы): центрально-азиатский контекст внутренней и внешней политики [Afghanistan in the starting phase of its independent development (the 1920s): the Central Asian domestic and foreign policy context], Bishkek 2004, pp 57-87.

(11) Chokaev fled to Georgia (also temporarily independent of Russia) and, from there, in February 1919, he urged the western powers who had gathered for the Versailles peace conference after World War I to occupy Turkestan and support the establishment of an independent Turkestan.

Ergash, in some sources, is called the former commander of the Kokand Autonomy’s police. This is another person, though, locally known as ‘Little Ergash’; Ergash the mullah was also known as ‘big Ergash’. (see Baymirza Hayit, Turkestan im XX Jahrhundert, 1956) The latter’s successor as commander of the movement in 1920 was his rival Madamin Beg, who surrendered and joined the Red Army – temporarily – in the same year. This led to a temporary slump of the movement, which soon gained momentum again.

The best short overview of the Basmachi movement is on the dictionary page of Le Parisien website. It is pointed out that the movement’s roots lay in the 1916 Central Asian revolt against conscription of Muslims for back area services in the Czarist army in World War I. Several later Basmachi leaders participated in that revolt.

(12) Russian sources assert that there were British advisors, too (see here), but Bailey reported that those reports were highly exaggerated and that there were only two Muslim non-commissioned officers in the British-Indian army. One was apparently a Pashtun, named Awal Gul, and one a “Hazara from western Afghanistan”, named Kerbelayi Muhammad. They, who had gone there with a weapons transport sent by the commander of the British troops in Transcaucasia and who the Amir had kept in Bukhara. (Both left with Bailey in December 1919).

(13) Unfortunately, Abdullaev does not provide sources for this detail in the article where he mentioned this.

(14) The Bukharan and other emigrants from the now Soviet areas lived in Afghanistan on provisional papers. According to an estimate of Abdullaev, at the beginning of 1926 there were 42,580 Turkmen emigré families, “225,305 persons overall (…) from Karakum and eastern Bukhara in northwestern Afghanistan. The town of Andkhoy in today’s Faryab province became the centre of Turkmen emigration: “From 1917-1922 more than 30 thousand families moved there for permanent residence.” The number of Uzbek refugees was lower, according to Abdullaev. He quotes the account of a Tajik government commission, noting that 12 thousand Loqays had fled to Afghanistan by the mid-1920s. Only in 1973 were Central Asian refugees allowed to obtain Afghan citizenship (see here).

(15) Sources differ widely about the number of Afghan fighters. The figure of 140 and the information about Abdulhai’s presence derives from a contemporary report by the commander of the Soviet-Bukharan troops at the time, General Nikolai Kakurin. Ali Ahmad, Amanullah’s personal secretary, speaks about 200, led by a Brigadier Fazl Ahmad Khan, in a document written after the fall of the Amanullah government. Ibrahim Bek, after his arrest, spoke of 300 men, led by a certain Ahmad Jan who was the son of the Afghan governor (hakem) of Khanabad, Nader Safar Khan. Fedor Raskolnikov, the Soviet ambassador to Kabul, based on reports from the Soviet consulate in Mazar-e Sharif, speaks of 300 to 2,000 men. These data have been compiled in a Russian-language academic discussion forum and come to the conclusion that there were two groups, first 200 and then 300, led by Anwar Jan. The Tajik historian Ghafur Shermatov elsewhere spoke of 800 men in two groups, first 500, then 300.

(16) Quoted in Ludwig W Adamec, Afghanistan’s Foreign Affairs to the Mid-Twentieth Century, Tucson 1941, p 69, FN 78.

(17) Alexander Marshall, “Turkfront” in: Tom Everett-Heath (ed), Central Asia: Aspects of transition, London and New York 2003, p 17.

(18) Eden Naby, “The Afghan diaspora: reflections on the imagined country”, in: Central Asia and the Caucasus: Transnationalism and Diaspora, ed by Touraj Atabaki and Sanjyot Mehendale, 2004, p182 (FN 4).

(19) See FN 17.

(20) Tajikistan was founded in 1924 as an autonomous part of the Socialist Soviet Republic (SSR) of Uzbekistan, and upgraded to a full SSR in 1929. This resulted in the former territory of Bukhara being divided between two republics. It remains divided between two independent states, Uzbekistan and Tajikistan (following the break up of the Soviet Union in 1991).

(21) This episode is only marginally dealt with in most of the English language literature on Afghanistan. In Russia, now, an entire book has been written about it: Тихонов Ю. Н. Афганская война Сталина. Битва за Центральную Азию. – М.: Яуза, Эксмо, 2008. – 704 с. [Yu. N. Tikhonov, Stalin’s Afghan War: The battle for Central Asia, Moscow: Yauza, Eksmo, 2008, 704 pp].

(22) Afghanistan was still the address for regional Islamic uprising forces. When a Turkic movement declared an independent “Turkish-Islamic Republic of Eastern Turkestan” (TIRET) during another round of Chinese civil wars in November 1933, it contacted Kabul for help. King Muhammad Zaher Shah sent his congratulations, but did not provide any practical help, even after a TIRET delegation visited Afghanistan in early 1934. There was apparently also Soviet pressure not to support them, as the TIRET was anti-communist. (Forbes, see FN 3, p116)

(23) The plan was conceived in the German foreign ministry by Werner Otto von Hentig, one of the two leaders of the German military-diplomatic mission to Kabul during World War I (see AAN article here), and originally thought to have been implemented in cooperation with Stalin’s Soviet Union, based on the August 1939 so-called Hitler-Stalin Pact. On the Afghan side, Amanullah’s former foreign minister Ghulam Sediq Charkhi who lived in Berlin was supposed to head the Afghan invasion force. However, the Hitler-Stalin Pact and the ‘Amanullah Plan’, in this form, became obsolete after Germany’s attack on the Soviet Union in 1941, but was still pushed forward by Berlin.) Finally, Hitler seems to have vetoed it. It also needs to be highlighted that Amanullah was to be told of the plan “in the very last moment” as it was all but sure he would participate. See: Kircheisen/Glasneck, Berlin 1968, Türkei und Afghanistan: Brennpunkte der Orientpolitik im Zweiten Weltkrieg, p212ff, a book based on documents from the Nazi German foreign service’s archives. The dismantling of the Axis powers’ presence in Afghanistan in 1943, result of an allied ultimatum after which all German, Italian and Japanese citizens were expelled, also stopped these plans.

 

 

 

Kabul is a city of secrets. An outsider needs both curiosity and patience to discover the hidden layers that lie behind mud walls or at the end of dusty lanes. This heritage is however at risk from indiscriminate demolitions and new construction, much of which is uncontrolled. The stories behind places also risk being lost, as some of their names indicate; a busy traffic intersection at Chahrrahi-ye Zambaq (Iris crossroads) may have been a tranquil garden; what is now a refuse-clogged drain once supplied fresh water to the neighbourhood of Ju-ye Shir (Sweet water channel) from a distant spring. AAN guest author Jolyon Leslie, who has campaigned for and contributed to safeguarding built heritage, highlights the threats currently facing historic sites in Kabul, both from physical ‘development’ and loss of memory in this AAN Christmas read. 

This dispatch is part 1 of a short series about the last Amir of Bukhara who ended up in Afghan exile in 1921. His country, once Afghanistan’s neighbour to the north, does no longer exist, having been divided between Uzbekistan an Tajikistan in Soviet times. The text is an extended version of ‘Notebook 058: Garden of Exile’ published in 2012 as part of dOCUMENTA 13 art exhibition at Kassel (Germany). Part 2 on 27 December 2018 will look at Amir Alem Khan’s resting place in Kabul and the two countries’ relationship.

Development or destruction?

The brutal changes wrought to the urban landscape over the last decade have obliterated important traces of Kabul’s history, as a tide of money feeds speculative construction, much of which is illegal. Worsening security seems to have little impact on the proliferation of brash multi-storey blocks that now crowd the skyline, often funded from dubious sources. From within their heavily-defended compounds in the central ‘green zone’, Afghan politicians and their diplomatic guests tend to portray this rash of new construction as a sign of development – rather than admitting that it is also a concrete manifestation of the corruption and greed that has dogged many aspects of international engagement in the country since 2002.

A similar disconnect prevails with efforts to safeguard sites or areas of historic significance. Most Afghan politicians are keen to affirm their commitment to preservation of their heritage, but it has proved difficult to enforce controls as long as municipal staff are willing to turn a blind eye to the approach of bulldozers – usually for a small consideration from developers, who might themselves be government officials. As on other issues, the failure to uphold the rule of law tends to be portrayed as a problem of ‘lack of capacity’, although such capacity seems to be in abundance in the lucrative realm of ‘redevelopment’. And with most young Afghans not taught about their culture or heritage in the classroom, awareness as to what they stand to lose is largely absent, presenting a challenge for public campaigns.

City of gardens

There are, however, corners that have thus far escaped the khakbad (dust-devil) of transformation, and hopefully might be safeguarded for future generations. Among these are some of the gardens that were once key to the character of Kabul, and seduced the likes of Babur, the first Mughal, whose memoirs offer a vivid picture of how central these were to court life in the early 16thcentury. A garden bearing his name was re-opened to the public in 2008 following restoration and is now popular for family picnics. (1)

Some distance to the south of Bagh-e Babur lies a less well-known site, approached along dusty tracks bordered by high mud walls over which festoons of white nastaran (dog-roses) hang. On the urban fringe, the landscape here is dotted with qala (family homesteads) with blank defensive outer walls and turrets set among irrigated fields and orchards. One such property, Qala-ye Fatuh seemed on my first visit in 2004 (2) to be abandoned, with its avenues of mature walnut and mulberry trees choked by invasive saplings and weeds. Nature appeared to be taking over the ruins of a scattering of buildings in one corner of the site. Despite this air of neglect, water flowed through open channels and villagers were working on small plots they had reclaimed for cultivation. One of them explained that this is known locally as Bagh-e Padshah-e Bukhara, or the Garden of the Emir of Bukhara.

One of the war-damaged pavilions in the garden. Photo: Jolyon Leslie/2006

Curious as to the history of the garden, I came to learn that Muhammad Alem Khan, emir of Bukhara, lived here in exile for more than twenty years. Unlike Babur, who dealt with being forced from his home in Ferghana (in present-day Uzbekistan) by embarking on a series of ambitious military campaigns that eventually enabled him to control much of India, Alem Khan’s exile was spent in this garden, plotting unsuccessfully to reclaim his throne in Bukhara. The forlorn landscape and ruined buildings there bear mute witness to a little-known aspect of modern Afghan history.

The emir in exile

Alem Khan’s family ruled over the Emirate of Bukhara for a century before its incorporation in 1868 as a protectorate of the Russian Empire. A photograph taken in Bukhara in 1911 shows him resplendent in a blue silk chapan (coat) embroidered with tulips and irises. Having initially viewed the 1917 Bolshevik Revolution as an opportunity to realise his dream of establishing an Islamic caliphate across the region, Alem Khan soon realised that the revolutionaries’ social and economic reforms were at odds with his conservative views. He began to organise resistance, but his forces were no match for the Red Army troops who occupied Bukhara in 1920, causing the emir to flee. After an unsuccessful attempt to mobilise opposition from the east of his country, he accepted an invitation from the Afghan ruler Amanullah Khan to visit Kabul, crossing the frontier in 1921 from Tajikistan.

Painted mural over the fireplace in the residential quarters. Photo: Jolyon Leslie/2006

Little did Alem Khan imagine that this visit would became permanent exile. With his entourage, he was initially quartered close to the royal palace, In Muradkhane, on the north bank of the Kabul river, from where his host monitored his attempts to rally resistance to the Bolsheviks, with whom Amanullah Khan – despite some ups and downs – maintained friendly relations. It may have been the exiled emir’s persistence in seeking foreign support – he made several requests to the British Indian government in the belief that the Soviets represented a common foe – that prompted his re-location to the secluded compound at Qala-ye Fatuh.

This move did not however prevent Alem Khan from maintaining contact with Bukharan rebels. On the defection to the rebel side by Enver Pasha, a former Young Turk and Minister of War of the Ottoman Empire but now in exile and sent by Lenin to contain the rebellion, he was promptly appointed commander-in-chief by the emir and went on to organise raids on occupied Bukhara. Amanullah would have monitored these developments closely, for he too dreamed of a confederation of Central Asian states, but with Afghanistan at its centre. Despite having signed a treaty of friendship with the Soviets, the Afghans quietly supplied arms to the Bukharan and other anti-Soviet rebels in the former Russian province of Turkestan. This support proved to be in vain, for the Red Army had largely suppressed them by 1922, killing Enver in that year. (The insurgency continued for many more years – more about this in part 2 of this series.) Despite this setback, Alem Khan seems not to have wavered from the conviction that he would return to Bukhara and regain his throne.

This belief might have made it easier to cope with the straitened circumstances in which the emir then lived, which were in stark contrast to the splendours of Bukhara. The quarters in Qala-ye Fatuh comprised a series of free-standing buildings ranged around neat flowerbeds and ornamental trees – now completely overgrown. Curiously, the residential spaces are tiny, even by Afghan standards, and one can but wonder how the corpulent emir and his entourage coped. This might be why Alem Khan appears rather disconsolate in a photograph taken in one of these miniature rooms in 1922. (3) The stenciled wall decoration visible in the photograph survives to this day, but the carpet at the emir’s feet is long gone, replaced by drying animal fodder. Over a fireplace in an adjoining room is a mural depicting a bucolic scene of castles beside a lake ringed by rugged mountains, perhaps intended to remind the household of happier times. Only the biplane that soars above this painted landscape seems to point to the future.

It was to the future, and the possibilities of modern technology, that the emir’s host Amanullah looked as he embarked on an ambitious program of reforms. Part of his vision for a modern capital was the creation of a new government enclave in Darulaman, where a foundation stone was laid in 1923. Work on the elevated Secretariat building (that was badly damaged during inter-factional fighting in 1993/4) must have been visible from Qala-ye Fatuh, and might even have reminded the emir of his grand palaces back in Bukhara. (4)

Alem Khan’s fortunes were hostage to Afghanistan’s turbulent politics. Soon after Amanullah’s abdication in 1929, the leader of the rebels who had overthrown him, Habibullah Kalakani, called for Bukhara’s liberation from Soviet occupation. (Find more background about him in this AAN dispatch.) The exiled emir appears in several photographs of public events at the time, and his presence may have lent a degree of legitimacy to Kalakani’s rule in Kabul. It was less than a year before he was in turn overthrown and then executed by Nader Shah, who turned a blind eye to Soviet incursions into northern Afghanistan in pursuit of Bukharan rebels.

Today, Qala-ye Fatuh’s forlorn garden and ruined buildings seem to resonate with the sadness that Alem Khan must have felt as he heard news of the Soviets’ consolidation of their grip on Bukhara. One can imagine how he must have struggled to keep up appearances in the tiny spaces in which he now lived, perhaps pacing up and down the avenues of trees to make sense of what was happening in the world outside of the walled compound. A section of an ornate plaster fireplace, now partly buried in rubble, is a reminder of the elegance of some of the buildings, even though its rusting corrugated-iron roof now hangs over ruined walls like a shroud. Nearby, shafts of bright sunlight penetrate through the shattered wood ceiling of a mosque, inside which painted decoration and inscriptions survive, albeit defaced.

Detail of moulded plaster fireplace in one of the damaged pavilions. Photo: Jolyon Leslie/2011

This destruction is a clue to the next chapter in the history of Qala-ye Fatuh. Its ruined buildings and overgrown landscape are not only the consequence of a natural process of decay, but of destruction caused by mujahedin fighters who, after the fall of the Soviet- backed government in Kabul in 1992, occupied this area. In another twist of history, these mujahedin belonged to the factions who claim to have forced occupying Soviet forces to withdraw from their country in 1989 – a goal that Alem Khan had pursued for his country from this very garden 70 years earlier. (5)

Along with other sites across the fast-changing urban landscape, Qala-ye Fatuh serves as a palimpsest of an important period in Kabul’s history. Since I first visited the garden in 2004, Afghanistan has experienced exceptional urban growth, as families are displaced from insecure rural areas or move to towns and cities in search of a livelihood. With almost a third of Afghans now thought to be urban residents, according to World Bank figures for 2017 there is huge pressure on land, housing and basic services. It is inevitable that investment to keep pace with this growing demand will come at some cost to urban heritage, but more can and should be done to document and, where possible, safeguard, sites like Qala-ye Fatuh that hold the history of the country – and without which future generation of Afghans will be the poorer.

Edited by Sari Kouvo and Thomas Ruttig

 

(1) Implemented by the Aga Khan Trust for Culture, whose programme the author managed at the time.

(2) In the course of planning the rehabilitation of Bagh-e Babur, efforts were made to identify other significant walled gardens that survived in and around Kabul.

(3) One of series of photographs taken by Wilhelm Rieck, a German engineer, who was engaged to oversee various construction works in Kabul in the 1920s.

(4) In a curious echo of history, in 2017 President Ashraf Ghani pledged funds for the restoration of the Darulaman palace as part of an ambitious plan for an administrative quarter to be built in much the same area that Amanullah Khan chose for his ‘new Kabul’ – designed in 1921 by French architect Godard but not realised.

(5) A new contingent of ‘guests’ arrived in 1996 in nearby Rishkhor, where an al-Qaeda base was established, only to be obliterated by US missiles two years later. The craters remain to this day.

Many have praised the parliamentary elections in Herat province in the far west of Afghanistan as second only to the capital Kabul in terms of turnout. There was indeed considerable enthusiasm and determination to vote from those who could get to the polls, but they were a restricted number, mainly those living in the provincial and district centres. In areas controlled or threatened by the Taleban, the vote either did not happen or was troubled. Elsewhere, numerous administrative and technical shortcomings and serious complaints of rigging hindered Heratis from exercising their franchise. AAN researcher Said Reza Kazemi, who observed the poll, reports that the description by provincial authorities that Herat’s election was ‘good’ suggests they must have very low standards.

Reinforced security measures

As election day, 20 October 2018, approached, the Afghan government boosted the strength and presence of its military forces in Herat province. These extraordinary security measures, which lasted for about a day before to a day after the poll, were mostly limited to the provincial capital, Herat city, and district centres because large swathes of territory in the province, particularly areas far from the provincial and district centres, are either contested or partially or completely controlled by the Taleban.

In Herat city, the bolstered security forces were clearly visible. Security forces were stationed at strategic entry points to and key intersections in the provincial capital and checked any suspicious movements. Many other members of the security forces could be seen constantly patrolling in Ranger-type vehicles.Additionally, the Office of the Provincial Police Chief banned the use of motorbikes and rickshaws in the city and the districts leading to it on 18 October. All traffic was banned on election day. As a result, as AAN observed, there were few vehicles in the city and the road leading to it from Guzara and Injil districts on polling day. More vehicles started coming out as the day went on when security measures were somewhat relaxed. The transport ban was a response to a number of small-scale vehicle-borne improvised electronic device (IED) attacks in Herat city in the lead-up to election day. The attacks did not cause many casualties and it is not clear whether or not they were directly linked to the approaching elections (for details, see the author’s pre-election dispatch here).

The Taleban push to disrupt elections in several districts

Although the city of Herat was generally safe around polling day thanks largely to the strengthened security arrangements, conditions were markedly different in several districts. The Taleban, as in previous years, set out to stop as much voting as they could (for a countrywide assessment, see pages 1-6 of this UNAMA report). According to residents and district Independent Election Commission (IEC) officials, the Taleban used a range of measures in several districts of Herat province. They warned local populations not to take part in the elections and threatened to cut off their fingers if they did so. This threat was not carried out, however. Also, as will be detailed below, they abducted figures of influence in various villages in a bid to scare local inhabitants away from the elections (but released them soon afterwards following local mediation), carried out small-scale IED and rocket attacks and used small arms fire, predominantly against polling centres or other nearby compounds and land, rather than people.

However, the Taleban insurgents were unable and unwilling to create a bloodbath. Shedding blood, especially of civilians, destroys whatever local relations they may have gradually established in areas under their influence or control (for a case study of Taleban relations with district residents, read the author’s recent case study on Herat’s Obeh district here and an introduction to the subject here). Examples of how the Taleban operated around elections in five districts of the province give a flavour of their tactics.

In the north-western district of Gulran that borders Turkmenistan in the north and Iran in the west, only one out of seven polling centres opened on election day and, even then, only the centre in the very centre of the district. The IEC official in charge of Gulran told AAN that the Taleban began shelling the district centre from the moment the polling centre opened “early in the morning to around 11 am.” The rockets did not hit the polling centre but amplified a previous Taleban warning to Gulran residents not to participate in the elections. “Nevertheless, polling went on throughout the day in the district centre,” said the official. Although no one was hurt, the Taleban did appear to have affected turnout. Out of around 5,500 registered voters, only about 1,200 cast their votes in Gulran.

The western, mainly desert district of Kohsan through which Herat is connected to Iran via the Islam Qala border crossing is considered a comparatively safe district by Herat standards. There, Taleban insurgents carried out small-scale IED attacks against four polling centres including three schools and one mosque, according to an IEC official based in the district. The attacks injured two people (see this media report), inflicted some physical damage on polling centre buildings and significantly lowered turnout. In one of the polling centres, only 29 people turned out to vote. However, there was much greater voting in the remaining 11 polling centres in Kohsan (15 polling centres in total). All in all, nevertheless, Taleban threats and IED attacks reduced turnout in the district: of around 26,000 registered voters, only about 14,000 people voted.

Security in the central district of Adraskan along the Herat-Kandahar highway was worse, given its adjacency to restive Shindand district and Farah province in the south and Farsi district in the east. According to a UNAMA report (see pages 5 and 6 here), on 19 October 2018, the Taleban “gathered” 45 elders and figures of influence from several villages “with the aim of intimidating the population into not participating in the elections” and released them only after the elections were over in the evening of 20 October. A district IEC official based in Adraskan told AAN that some 25 election employees informed him on 19 October that they would not turn up to work the following day due to Taleban threats. On election day itself, the Taleban fired rockets near to five polling centres. In total, of the six polling centres, only the one in the district centre escaped attack. The attacks injured a soldier and a woman and caused some physical damage. At the end of the elections, of some 6,600 registered voters in Adraskan, only about 1,900 had cast their ballots.

Further south, the insecure district of Shindand, which borders Farah province and has been divided into five smaller districts, also witnessed a patchy, insecure and, in some places, non-existent election, according to a district IEC official who spoke to AAN. In two of the newly-created districts, Pushtkoh and Zerkoh, which are largely under Taleban rule, no election took place. In central Shindand district, all 11 polling centres opened. However, polling in two centres was hampered by skirmishes between the Taleban and Afghan government security forces nearby, which left casualties on both sides. Additionally, at about 08:00 when polling started, the Taleban fired a rocket on Shindand district centre to frighten local residents off the elections. There were no casualties, however. At the end of the day, out of about 8,400 registered voters, only some 5,000 voted in central Shindand district. In the district of Kuhzur, the single designated polling centre managed to open and out of some 1,100 registered voters, only a small group of people consisting of election staff, Afghan government security forces and a few others cast their ballots. In Zavul district, the two designated polling centres opened and out of around 2,600 people who had registered to vote, some 1,000 cast their votes.

That elections were held in troubled Shindand at all came as a surprise, but this has something to do with competing Taleban factions in southern Herat province (read AAN background on the conflict in Shindand here). Local sources in Herat city and Shindand told AAN that followers of the splinter Mullah Rasul group led by Mullah Nangialay allowed elections to be organised in areas under their influence or control (for more on this breakaway Taleban faction, read AAN analysis here). Clashes have continued for several years between Mullah Nangialay’s forces and sympathisers of mainstream Taleban leader Mullah Hibatullah led by Mullah Samad in Shindand. The most recent battle left several members on both factions dead and injured in late November 2018 (see this media report).

The Taleban also threatened the elections in Pashtun Zarghun, a relatively green and fertile, but sparsely populated district in the east of Herat province. A district IEC official told AAN that all 19 designated polling centres opened and of about 18,000 registered voters, about 9,800 people cast their votes. He said that the Taleban, angry at this relatively high turnout, despite their warnings and threats, abducted elders from several villages and only released them following mediation by other local influential figures. Additionally, UNAMA says in its report (see page 6 here) that in Chiworshy village of Pashtun Zargun district, “on 20 October Taliban entered a private company where election materials were stored and burned the materials and the civilian building.”

There were similar security incidents (mostly small-scale rocket and IED attacks) in several other districts: eastern Obeh and northern Kushk-e Kuhna districts (see page 5 here) and northern Kushk-e Rubat Sangi, eastern Karukh and Chesht-e Sharif, western Ghoryan, southern Guzara and central Injil (see here).

Organisational failure across the province

Insecurity was not the only obstacle facing Heratis keen to vote. There was also widespread administrative shambles (for a countrywide assessment, read AAN reporting here , here and here).

The first problem on election day, experienced at least in and around Herat city, was related to access. AAN observed that the transport ban had knock-on effects on both electoral staff and voters. Many IEC employees, who had been mainly recruited from among local school staff, did not manage to arrive at many polling centres on time.

Voters waiting in a long queue to get in Masjid ul-Reza Mosque polling centre to vote. Located in Police District (PD) 3 of Herat city, the entrance to the mosque is surrounded by a concrete blast wall. A young man, echoing the words of several other men who had come to vote in this polling centre, told AAN, “Look at the long queue! It’s frustrating and it’s better that I go because I’ve got other things to do.” Photo: Author/2018

Voters faced a similar challenge. AAN saw large numbers of people walking to and from polling centres in Herat city and the neighbouring district of Injil. Some we spoke to did not know they had to vote in the polling centre at which they had registered; then, if they went to the wrong centre, it was difficult to rectify this mistake because of the transport ban.

Those affected by one of the major administrative failings of this election – the names of some voters who had registered not appearing on the list of the relevant polling centre – also found their attempts to vote exacerbated by the transport ban. Many of those who could not find their names at the centre where they had registered then trailed round several other centres in a sometimes vain attempt to find their names so that they could vote. In the most notorious case of this kind, the IEC sent some voter lists from Bamiyan province to Ghoryan district of Herat (see this media report).

The late arrival of staff and generally slow administration of voting led to large queues of voters forming outside many polling centres. People waited between one and six hours to vote, with some people deciding not to wait or waiting in vain as their polling centre did not open at all. “Look at the long queue! It’s frustrating and it’s better that I go because I’ve got other things to do,” a young man who had approached Masjid ul-Reza polling centre in Police District (PD) 3 told AAN, echoing the words of several other men who came to vote, but then left after seeing the long queue. Some people living nearby, however, paid two or more visits to the polling centre and finally managed to get in and vote when it was less crowded.

Similarly, in Khaja Muhammad Taki High School polling centre in PD 3 and Hatefi High School polling centre in PD 4, many people waited for a long time (an hour or more) to get inside to cast their votes, with some deciding to return home without voting at all. As the day went on, however, queues got shorter, especially from late afternoon onwards.

Such late starts were observed by or reported to AAN all over the province. However, in some places, the delays gave rise to speculation that the administrative chaos was deliberate, a move by the government to disenfranchise voters in particular areas of Herat city and the larger province.

Besides this, there was also chaos inside most polling centres across Herat province, according to various sources. AAN observed:

Voters struggled to find their names on voter lists in the Masjid ul-Reza polling centre because voter lists were either missing or wrong or had been misplaced. A middle-aged man said, “I’ve waited for an hour or so to get inside the polling centre but can’t find my name now that I’m in. They keep sending me to one polling station or another.”

A bustling but problematic polling process in Gawharshad High School polling centre in PD 1 of Herat city. There, a candidate agent told AAN: “Polling began late, voters have to wait for a long time to get in, they find their names with difficulty or don’t at all, biometric devices don’t work and so on. Candidate agents have filled out so many complaint forms that no more is left.” Photo: Author/2018

Confused voters in Gawharshad High School polling centre in PD 1 also struggled to find their names on voter lists amid a large crowd of candidate agents, who were looking for complaint registration forms that had already run out, and a large number of observers; altogether, the orderly administration of the election was hindered as a candidate agent told AAN:

“Polling began late, voters have to wait for a long time to get in, they find their names with difficulty or don’t at all, biometric devices don’t work and so on. Candidate agents have filled out so many complaint forms that no more is left.”

In some polling centres, especially in and around Herat city, polling continued well into the night to let all those standing in queues cast their votes. A candidate agent in Nasaji polling centre in Guzara district told AAN:

“The polling centre finally opened around 1 pm. There was a long queue outside the centre but many people got tired and went back to their houses. When polling began, my colleagues and I coordinated and encouraged people to return to vote. Polling continued well into the night. The candidate we were working for paid for vehicle owners to keep bringing people to vote and then returning them to their houses. We were in the polling centre till about midnight.”

In the districts, a range of similar administrative flaws were reported by the media (see Killid and page 5 of this issue of Hasht-e Sobh daily newspaper). They included delays in opening polling centres; missing, wrong or misplaced voter lists; inadequate numbers of complaint registration forms; biometric voter verification (BVV) devices unavailable, not working, not being charged or IEC staff struggling to operate them and; election materials not provided on time or not provided at all, especially in polling centres located in outlying areas.

The provincial IEC tried to address the inadequacies. According to provincial IEC head Ahmad Shah Qanuni, who spoke to AAN, a 10 to 12-member operational team at the provincial IEC headquarters was busy particularly throughout election day, attempting to resolve the myriad of problems. However, the organisational and technical shortfalls were numerous and simply unmanageable for the provincial IEC. “Technical problems played a greater role in disenfranchising voters in Herat than did insecurity,” was the frank admission of provincial IEC head Qanuni in an interview with AAN. This would appear certainly to be true on election day, itself, although many voters never even got the chance to register because of the Taleban controlling large areas of the province and beyond.

More disenfranchisement due to technical flaws than security incidents

In assessing October’s parliamentary poll, it should be stressed that, months before election day, many Heratis had already been disenfranchised. Out of an estimated one million voters in the province, only around half registered to vote; the shortfall appeared due mostly to security threats and widespread disillusionment with the last fraudulent and controversial presidential elections in 2014 (see the author’s pre-election dispatch here).

The IEC had planned to open 462 polling centres across Herat (see their list here). Prior to election day, it said it would only be able to open 300 of these following an assessment by the Afghan government security institutions (read this AAN dispatch). Then, on election day itself, it opened only 285. On the extra, second day of the elections, the IEC did plan to open the remaining 15 polling centres, but in practice only opened two, one in Kushk-e Rubat Sangi district and the other in Adraskan district (see also this media report). This means that, on the two election days, only 287 polling centres opened in Herat province, 175 polling centres (or almost 40 per cent) fewer than was planned. Only in Herat city and the immediate district of Injil did all designated polling centres open.

About a fifth fewer centres opened in 2018 than in the last parliamentary elections in 2010 when 351 polling centres opened (see their list here) and only 4 per cent of those planned to open failed to do so (see appendix 4 of this report; see also AAN reporting on the 2010 elections in Herat here and here). This is a consequence of the Taleban controlling or influencing more territory than they did eight years ago.

As for the number of people who cast their votes on the two election days, there are no exact figures yet, but available data does indicate that more than 215,000 registered voters did not exercise their franchise. Prior to the elections, the provincial IEC provided AAN with the following voter registration figures (see the author’s pre-election dispatch here):

• Total: 557,720 registered voters
• 308,613 men
• 247,434 women
• 1,673 kuchis (nomads)

After the election, on 28 November 2018, Qanuni, the provincial IEC head, provided the following figures of those who had voted:

• Total: 342,225 voters
• 184,180 men
• 157,190 women
• 855 kuchis

215,495 registered voters, almost 40 per cent (38.64 %), did not vote in Herat province. Individual reasons are not known, but potential voters faced technical shambles, closed polling centres and Taleban threats or were disinclined to vote. Compared to the 2010 parliamentary elections, there was actually little difference: overall 348,145 people (198,483 men, 145,050 women, 4,612 kuchis) voted in 2010; this includes both validated (291,625) and invalidated (56,520) ballots. This is just 5,920 more ballots than those who cast their votes in the recent elections.

Alleged rigging

Allegations of fraud have further undermined the parliamentary elections in Herat. As time has passed since the elections, the number of election complaints has steadily gone up: from 649 on 22 October 2018 (see page 5 here), to 792 on 24 October (see here) and to 999 on 28 November, according to the head of the provincial Election Complaints Commission (ECC), Fareshtah Hesham.

Hesham told AAN the provincial ECC had put the 999 complaints into three categories. The first category involves 649 complaints that have been found by the provincial ECC as “undocumented and therefore rejected.” The fact that there has not been much local reaction to the rejection of these complaints could show that the complaints were not solid. The second category comprises 150 complaints about organisational shortcomings such as late starts, missing or wrong or misplaced voter lists and dysfunctional BVV devices on polling day. These complaints have been referred by the provincial ECC to its headquarters in Kabul, for “these problems emanated from the centre [Kabul],” said Hesham.

The remaining 200 complaints are, in Hesham’s words, “evidence-based and serious.” These complaints relate to alleged cases of election manipulation such as ballot box stuffing, the use of fake tazkeras(national ID cards), campaigning for candidates near and even inside polling centres and general illegal interference by different actors in the electoral process. The provincial ECC investigation of these complaints is still under way.

As a result of the third category of complaints, Hesham said the provincial ECC has quarantined ballot boxes from 61 polling centres across the province for re-counting. These include 18 polling centres in Herat city; all polling centres in Chesht-e Sharif, Kushk-e Kuhna, Gulran, Shindand, Adraskan, Zavul and Farsi districts; and some polling centres in Zendajan, Guzara, Injil, Karukh and Obeh districts. The quarantined polling centres indicate that alleged fraud was perpetrated both in relatively safe and central districts such as Injil and insecure and faraway ones such as Farsi and, in other words, across the entire province.

Local observers told AAN that the recruitment of election staff from among the local population contributed to the fraud. For instance, an observer from Kohsan district told AAN that at least two polling centres in the district were staffed by individuals belonging to one kinship group who supported one of the candidates and purportedly engineered the election in favour of him. In other areas, according to local journalists, candidate agents and provincial IEC and ECC heads that AAN spoke to, various actors including locally-hired IEC staff, elders, commanders and candidate agents interfered in the elections in favour of their chosen candidates. Furthermore, the lack of candidate agents and observers in some polling centres situated in far-flung, insecure areas provided an environment conducive for rigging.

In addition, there are concerns among some local activists that electoral fraud at the central Kabul level could have undermined Herat province’s parliamentary elections even further. Some candidates immediately left Herat for Kabul following the elections, which contributed to speculation among journalists and local activists including observers and civil society representatives that they are allegedly “trying to increase their votes through the electoral bodies or are concerned about election manipulation by the electoral bodies” (see page 5 here). These local activists (see page 5 here) have further alleged that some candidates intentionally declared their victory prematurely by throwing parties in order to make Kabul-level vote manipulation possible later on. The provincial IEC and ECC have tried to assure the populace that due process of law was being followed, but the credibility of this assurance is under question. For example, on 7 December 2018, 25 parliamentary election candidates in Herat called for the complete invalidation of votes in the province, citing what they called “widespread electoral fraud and violations” including by the provincial IEC (see here).

In her interview with AAN, the provincial ECC head Hesham said she fully expected the announcement of preliminary results – which came out on 17 December (1) – would bring to them an even greater number of complaints.

Conclusion: what kind of an election did Herat have?

Enthusiasm by Heratis to take part in the elections was evident from the long queues of voters that formed outside polling centres in various parts of Herat province. Yet, many Heratis could not exercise their franchise, meaning the elections were far from representative of the population across the province. Insecurity primarily caused by the Taleban meant that polling was mostly limited to provincial and district centres; this was largely a vote of Herat’s urban population. That widening urban-rural divide, part of a countrywide pattern (read this AAN dispatch), raises questions as to how representative returning MPs to Afghanistan’s next parliament will be of the population as a whole. A vote constrained by insurgency was then further chipped away at by technical deficiencies. Even in safe areas, not every Herati managed to exercise their franchise.

Those twin problems – insecurity and organisational failure – were reflected in the voting statistics, the 175 polling centres that did not open and the 215,495 registered voters who did not vote. Given that half of Herat’s estimated eligible voters had already not or could not register, the figures look even worse. Actual voter turnout on the day was 342,225, or about a third of the estimated electorate.

These shortcomings were compounded by the 200 serious complaints of election rigging that cast serious doubts on how free and fair Herat’s parliamentary elections were. Although these complaints are still being investigated by the provincial ECC, convincing electoral stakeholders, particularly ‘losing’ candidates, to accept the final results could be a very hard task, given the messiness of these elections. It could have consequences for public order, given the commonplace practice of the ‘ill-used’, but influential, to bring supporters out onto the streets and block roads in and around the city of Herat and elsewhere. More importantly, these problematic parliamentary elections could further undermine public trust not just in the capacity of the electoral institutions but also in Afghanistan’s ‘democratic’ processes more broadly. This is particularly worrying given the approaching 20 April 2019 presidential elections.

Despite all these issues, however, according to the provincial authorities, Herat had a ‘good’ election. Muhammad Asif Rahimi, the outgoing provincial governor, said the elections were “relatively safe.” The Taleban failed to prevent the poll, he said, and the people of Herat, particularly the women, “created an epic by their high turnout” (see page 5 here). In her interview with AAN, the provincial ECC head, Hesham, put it more bluntly, “Compare Herat with Ghazni [province] that had no elections: the elections [in Herat] were good and things went safe and sound (bakhair ter shod).”

The enthusiasm on the part of those voters who could vote has to be acknowledged. Where voters could vote they largely did. However, many could not participate. They were let down by violent insurgents and incompetent authorities and, quite likely, cheats. This poses a serious question: how representative, free and fair can even a ‘good election’ in Afghanistan in current times be?

 

Edited by Danielle Moylan and Kate Clark

 

(1) The IEC announced the preliminary election results for Herat province on 17 December 2018 (see here). 161 candidates (their full list here) campaigned for Herat’s 17 seats in the parliament (five reserved for women). According to the preliminary results, of the 17 leading candidates (the first 12 are men and the last five women), eight are sitting MPs and the remaining nine new faces – who are referred to in bold:

1. Habib ul-Rahman Pedram, 16,796 votes
2. Muhammad Reza Khushak Watandost, 16,140 votes
3. Omar Nasir Mujaddedi, 10,929 votes
4. Haji Muhammad Sadeq Qaderi, 10,171 votes
5. Munavar Shah Bahaduri, 8,324 votes
6. Nesar Ahmad Faizi Ghoryani, 7,612 votes
7. Naqibullah Arwin, 7,306 votes
8. Ghulam Faruq Majruh, 7,004 votes
9. Ustad Hamidullah Hanif, 6,946 votes
10. Haji Shahpur Popal, 6,920 votes
11. Sayyed Azim Kabarzani, 6,582 votes
12. Al-Haj Ghulam Faruq Nazari, 6,263 votes
13. Rahima Jami, 3,686 votes
14. Masuda Karukhi, 2,822 votes
15. Simin Barekzai, 2,323 votes
16. Nahid Ahmadi Farid, 1,959 votes
17. Ustad Shirin Shahabi, 1,737 votes

Four months after the Taleban captured large parts of the strategic and historic city of Ghazni during a five-day siege in August 2018, local people live in fear of a new onslaught. While the Taleban were ultimately pushed out – or withdrew – from the city, they remain in the suburbs and have extended their grip over nearby districts. In this, the first of a two-part series, AAN’s Fazal Muzhary, who visited Ghazni city and neighbouring Andar district just before the attack and several times after, looks at the events in August, how they unfolded and the damage done. He details the failure of the government to heed the warning signs of an impending assault and the absence of planning or coordination in the face of a Taleban threat obvious to locals. In a second dispatch, he will look at what has happened since and hear from residents who say the government is still not protecting them from future assault.

Taleban fighters attacked Ghazni city, an important provincial hub 135 kilometres south of Kabul, on 10 August 2018. They closed in on the city from positions in nearby districts, villages and even the city’s suburbs, areas that they had systematically occupied in the preceding months (see AAN’s earlier analysis here). During the fighting, they cut off all telecommunication links to the rest of the country and managed to cut Ghazni off from three sides, blocking the main highway in Maidan Wardak and Zabul provinces, as well as the main easterly road in Andar district, leading east to Paktika province. They also temporarily occupied large parts of the city and made it to the very centre of the city, destroying key military, government and civilian buildings.

The result of the destruction to telecommunications equipment was that neither the government nor the general public were able to follow what was happening in the city. Meanwhile, closure of the highways prevented the Afghan government from sending in reinforcements. The provincial governor, Wahidullah Kalimzai, was on a visit to India at the time of the attack. Local sources told AAN that, prior to the attack, people had felt uncertain as to who was even governing the city.

It is still unclear whether the Taleban were pushed back by the United States-backed Afghan government security forces’ final counterattack, which involved airstrikes, or whether the Taleban themselves decided to withdraw. Two accounts are given. According to Time magazine the Taleban “began falling back …(t)hanks to the airstrikes” and the arrival of additional US Special Forces. The Taleban’s shadow governor for Ghazni, Haji Muhammad Yusuf, insisted they withdrew in order to reduce civilian suffering. In an interview published on the Taleban’s Shahamat website on 24 September, he said (see here): “After the invading foreign forces intensified their blind airstrikes against civilians and their properties, the mujahedin started setting back after spending six nights [in Ghazni] in order to reduce civilian casualties.” It is still unclear, therefore, whether the Taleban attempted to take over the city for good and were beaten back, or whether they were more interested in the propaganda value of a short-lived takeover of such a high-profile urban centre.

A closer look at the August events

The onslaught on Ghazni began at 1am on Friday 10 August 2018. Taleban insurgents attacked the city from four different directions: Andar district (also known as Shelgar) to the south, Khugyani district to the west, Deh Yak district to the east and Khwaja Omari and Jaghatu district of Wardak province to the northwest. At that time, the Taleban had long controlled the whole of Khugyani district and all but the district centres of the other four.

One resident, Esmat, who lives close to the Afghan National Army (ANA)’s Quick Reaction Force (QRF) unit in Ghazni city’s southwest told AAN that the Taleban attacking from the south were the first group to get close to the city. They did this by attacking the QRF unit near the Khalil Hotak Township, an area of newly-constructed houses named after its owner, Khalilullah Hotak, a former mujahedin fighter from Ghazni who still lives in the city. Meanwhile, another group attacked the old Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRT) compound to the south of the city where American and Polish troops were based until April 2014 (see here). It is currently used by the ANA. “After the Taleban attacked the QRF unit,” said Esmat, “they took several Humvees, other vehicles and weapons with them.” Another resident, Najibullah from the Khwaja Ali area, told AAN that at around 5am that day, the attackers had taken position at Haidarabad Bridge, about two to three kilometres to the southwest of Ghazni’s police headquarters and the governor’s house. These two significant buildings, along with most other government institutions, are located on the west bank of the narrow River Jalga which flows north to south, dividing Ghazni city. It tends to run dry throughout the summer months – as it was the case at the time of the August attack. Also located on the west bank is the city’s main commercial centre, which was hit particularly hard during the Taleban assault.

Meanwhile, just north of the police department, a group of Taleban, that had come from Jaghatu and Khwaja Omari districts, approached the Bazazi bazaar (the fabrics market), according to local businessman Muhammad Nabi, who spoke to AAN on the morning of the attack. He said that as militants were firing rockets at the headquarters, the Bazazi area was caught in the crossfire and was hit hard. According to a mechanic named Ishaq from the Ali Lala area situated four to five kilometres to the east of the governor’s house, the attackers coming from the east got to both Rauza hill (where most of the transmitters for mobile phone traffic, television and radio are located) and the Qala-ye Jawz area; their job was to prevent government reinforcements arriving from Deh Yak district.

There was not a lot of fighting to the east of the Jalga river, where a number of businesses are located, as well as some government institutions, the historic Bala Hesarfort and bus stations, including the one that serves the route to Kabul. As a result, there was little damage to civilian properties in this part of the city. The author only saw one destroyed Afghan National Police (ANP) post there. Beside it were two burnt-out cars, one belonging to Taleban fighters, destroyed in an airstrike, the other a police vehicle, which, according to local residents, was burnt during the attack.

Outside the city, however, the author saw several destroyed ANP security check-posts located along the city’s outskirts towards Andar district to the south. People from the area told AAN that the Afghan security forces manning the posts had failed to show “even a little resistance” to the Taleban. A number of destroyed posts were also visible along the Kabul-Kandahar Highway, in Shahbaz, Spandi, Khalil Hotak Township and Augra, among others areas. On the Paktika-Ghazni highway, the author witnessed destroyed posts in the villages of Aurzu, Small Aurzu, Shahkhuzhi, Zana Khan Stream, Deh Khudaidad and elsewhere. According to local sources, the Taleban took everything the ANSF had left behind at these posts.

Taleban spokesman Zabihullah Mujahed told AAN via WhatsApp that “a large number of fighters” had taken part in the attack. He gave no figures. According to local Taleban sources, however, the fighters included mainly local Taleban from Ghazni, as well as some Kandaharis and Helmandis, who were working as special guards for the Taleban shadow governor. He is a Kandahari named Haji Muhammad Yusuf who had previously worked as the Taleban’s shadow governor for Uruzgan and, according to pro-Taleban sources, was appointed as Ghazni governor before the start of the 2018 spring operations. Spokesman Mujahed said that fighters from neighbouring provinces had offered to send reinforcements but were told by the local Taleban leadership to remain on standby and had not fought. He did confirm, however, the participation of members of the Taleban’s Red Unit, the Taleban’s élite force, which was reportedly established around 2015 and is better trained and equipped than ordinary Taleban (read more background about it in this AAN dispatch). Mujahed said Red Unit fighters had been active in three particular parts of the city and had been assigned special targets to focus on during the onslaught only at night. He shared no further details in this regard.

Differing accounts of casualty figures

The five-day attack on Ghazni city resulted in a large number of casualties, to the Afghan National Security Forces (ANSF), the Taleban and the civilian population. Accounts as to the magnitude of the losses, however, differ between government, Taleban and media sources.

Figures released by a fact-finding team sent by the presidential palace on 15 August 2018 (to identify civilian casualties and financial losses), which stayed in the city for three weeks (see the government’s statement here), said that 97 civilians had been killed and 160 wounded over the five days of the attack. In his report, advisor to the president and team member, Asadullah Falah, wrote that 95 ANP and 12 ANA members were also killed, while another 136 were still missing. The report does not elaborate on the number of wounded ANSF. An official of an international NGO who was part of a different investigation into the casualties and who did not want to be named, confirmed to AAN that as many as 200 ANSF members might have been killed.

Government accounts of the Taleban’s death toll tend to be incoherent and often wildly exaggerated. For example, the Kabul delegation stated that 850 Taleban fighters had been killed (see the report here). A statement issued by Ghazni’s governor on the day the attack ended gave a death toll of 400 Taleban and foreign fighters, as well as 100 ANSF members and 35 civilians, and noted that hundreds of insurgents had been wounded. It then added, because all telecommunications were cut off, that the exact number of casualties was unknown (see the statement here). The governor’s office has not released an updated list of casualties since the attack. (1)

The Taleban provided an opposing, presumably also exaggerated, account of casualties. On the fourth day of the attack they claimed in a statement to have only lost 16 fighters, whereas they say they killed around 300 ANSF members and wounded “a few hundred” others (see here). By contrast, shadow governor Haji Muhammad Yusuf said they had lost about 25 to 30 fighters in a video interview with a Taleban website published on 18 August. Taleban spokesman, Zabihullah Mujahed, stated in a WhatsApp group that only 21 of their fighters had been wounded. AAN understands from another Taleban source, who did not want to be named, that their death toll actually stood at over a hundred.

Mujahed also claimed that over 200 ANSF members had surrendered to them and handed over their weapons and vehicles. Other equipment was seized, said the unnamed Taleban source, more than a hundred military vehicles, including Humvees and Ranger pickup trucks, hundreds of weapons and lots of ammunition. The un-named Taleban source also said the number of captured vehicles and weapons was “extensive.” He told AAN, “With these weapons, we could overrun two other provinces.” Residents of Andar and Jaghatu districts told AAN that the weapons the Taleban had captured in Ghazni were so numerous that they could not stash them all in one place, so have hidden them away in different locations within villages they control. The Taleban shadow governor said the ‘booty’ had been divided among the various Taleban fighting groups involved in the attack. The fact-finding team from Kabul did not give figures on weapons or ammunition taken by the insurgents – or acknowledge that this had even happened.

Airstrikes by United States (US) and Afghan forces were arguably the main cause of many of the casualties. They targeted several locations, mainly during the last days of the onslaught, and killed and wounded both Taleban fighters and civilians and destroyed civilian homes. Time magazine reported that “The U.S. military said it dropped 73 bombs and missiles in the Ghazni operation [and that] 226 Taliban were killed during the operation.” AAN was unable to identify all the locations hit by airstrikes, whether Afghan or American, but in some of them, the author was told by local sources that both civilians and Taleban fighters had been killed.

According to one local resident, Redi Gul, in the Pashtunabad area, on the western bank of the river on the southern edge of the city, about four to five kilometres from the governor’s office, around 15 houses were destroyed in airstrikes. He said that in one such airstrike on the fourth day of the attack, 18 civilians had been killed. The international NGO staff member quoted above also confirmed this strike, which, he said, killed only civilians. In another house targeted by another airstrike, 20 Taleban fighters were killed, he added.

He also told AAN that seven areas had born the brunt of the fighting and airstrikes: Pashtunabad, Khushhal Mena, Towhidabad, Deh Khodaidad, Mu-ye Mubarak (around the shrine, one of the most important in the country, which contains a hair from the head of the Prophet Muhammad after which the area is named), Khashak and Rassulabad. Of these, he said Pashtunabad, Khushhal Mena and Mu-ye Mubarak suffered the most, including the greatest number of airstrikes and reported civilian casualties. “The Taleban fighters were mainly present in these areas,” the NGO staff member said. “Also, they entered the city through these areas and from there attacked the city itself.” This indicates that the Taleban staged their attacks from civilian areas, and the US and Afghan air forces bombed them there. Neither side apparently took enough care to protect civilians. Based on a report by the United Nations Assistance Mission in Afghanistan (UNAMA), as many as 210 civilian casualties had been counted as of 7 October, including 69 dead and 141 wounded (see the report here).

Economic damage and financial losses

The five-day onslaught also had a devastating impact on local businesses. Traders lost thousands of dollars because their businesses were completely or partly burnt, or otherwise destroyed.

A month after the Taleban’s five day siege of Ghazni city (10-15 August 2018), work was still underway to rebuild one of the five markets completely burned down. This on ein the Bazazi area was used mainly by the shoe business. (Fazl Muzhary/AAN 2018)

As most of the fighting took place on the western side of the river, it was here that local businesses saw the greatest damage. The author, who visited all the large markets of the city during his visit, saw five markets near the police headquarters completely burnt and a sixth partially burnt. Two, both typical U-shaped buildings with an inner courtyard and access to the street, one selling carpets and the other mostly kitchen items, were located along the police headquarters’ eastern wall. The other markets affected were also only a stone’s throw away from the headquarters. Three are to the north of the police headquarters in the Bazazi area where markets line both sides of the road that leads to the Mu-ye Mubarak shrine (it was not damaged during the fighting). Two were completely destroyed and a third was half destroyed; these had mainly been used by the shoe business. The other destroyed market, Lab-e Darya (Riverside) was a major second-hand clothes market adjacent to the eastern wall of the police headquarters. This was an open place for roadside vendors, where no proper shops existed. All the author could see here were the burnt remains of handcarts. Other markets attached to the northern wall of the police headquarters remained untouched during the fighting.

Eid Muhammad, a cobbler in his late sixties from the Bazazi area who works in front of one of the two burnt shoe markets, told the author, “Luckily, the Ghafuri market did not catch fire, otherwise the whole city could have been burnt down.” This market, highly flammable given that it mainly sells textiles, is one of the largest markets in the neighbourhood.

The damage to mobile network providers was severe, according to an expert on mobile networks consulted by AAN. Ghazni is geographically important, a gateway province which enables network coverage to multiple provinces in the southwest and southeastern parts of the country. The network providers were operating very powerful mobile transmission towers in the city. The expert said he had the impression that the Taleban knew exactly what they should destroy to cause the most damage and targeted the very expensive network antennas, each worth around 250,000 USD. He said that after the Ghazni attack, most of the operators were looking for alternative sites in order to avoid further destruction.

The government’s fact-finding team’s report concluded that local businesses had suffered a loss of 500 million Afghanis in total (roughly 6.6 million US dollars). In contrast to the author’s findings, it said ten markets, 130 warehouses, 16 underground shops and 73 handcarts had either been completely or partially burnt. It also found that telecommunication companies had suffered a loss of 2.73 million US dollars, the state-run TV station alone one million Afghanis, while Ghaznavian private radio, owned by local businessman Engineer Abdul Qayum Omari suffered 18,250 US dollars-worth of damages. In one media (see here) report, Ghazni residents told a reporter that local businessmen’s losses totalled up to 75 million USD. Local officials told the same reporter that losses were likely closer to 100 million USD, while the deputy of the Afghanistan Chamber of Commerce and Industries in Kabul, Khan Jan Alokozai, estimated losses at around 50 million USD (see here). The same figure was given in a Tolonews report (see here). It is not clear exactly what each of these very different damage assessments were based on.

In a visit to the city on 26 August, one and a half weeks after the attack, President Ashraf Ghani said the government would allocate 20 million US dollars for the reconstruction of those parts of the city that had been destroyed in the fighting. “All the destroyed areas will be fundamentally reconstructed,” the president said. According to the international NGO official who spoke to AAN, a thorough assessment of financial losses is still underway.

More on the human cost

The fact-finding team sent from Kabul found that a large number of families living either in the city or on its outskirts had fled their homes to escape the fighting. Most had either moved to the capital, Kabul, or to other provinces or districts where no major fighting was taking place at that time. According to this same report, residents from the following 16 villages had evacuated their houses: Pashtunabad, Amir Muhammad Khan village, Tawhidabad, Shahr-e Kuhna (the Old Town), Haiderabad, Qala-ye Ahangaran, Sanjitak, Khwaja Hakim, Nawabad, Qala-ye Shada, Mu-ye Mubarak, Plan-e Seh, Bahlul, parts of Khak-e Ghariba, as well as and others (see the report here). The provincial department for refugees found that as many as 5,500 families had been displaced by the fighting, but that most of them had returned after it stopped (see here).

It is also worth mentioning the emotional cost of the onslaught. Theauthor visited the city just six days after the Taleban withdrew, on 21 August, the first day of Eid ul-Adha. Most of the streets were still empty. The only crowds were near mosques, where people, mostly men, had come together to perform the Eid ul-Adha prayers, on 21 August. Sadness was very visible on the faces of most of the worshippers. On 15 June, the first day of Eid-ul Fitr, the author had seen the same people excited, beaming with smiles, laughing, dancing and chanting slogans in favour of peace and an end to enmity among Afghans. That had been when the warring parties had declared their historic ceasefire. What a difference was felt between the two Eids.

Lack of ANSF coordination and sugar-coated government reports

The Taleban have claimed their fighters enjoyed cooperation from local residents as well as some government officials, particularly the security forces, before and during the attack. One unnamed Taleban source, whose information has generally been reliable, also claimed there had been cooperation from within the government, although he did not want give any specifics. The shadow governor for Ghazni, Haji Yusuf, while talking to a Taleban interviewer in a video on 18 August just as American fighter jets were roaring overhead, said: “The locals told us, when you come to the city we all will cooperate with you. They fed us and transported wounded Taleban fighters.” In some parts of the city, he said, Ghazni residents “publicly requested other residents to cooperate with the Taleban via mosque loudspeakers.” It was not possible to verify that such calls for cooperation had taken place (our local sources had not seen or heard anything). Neither did the Taleban governor give any details on how exactly government officials had cooperated (full interview here).

While outright cooperation has not been confirmed, what was clear was the lack of cooperation between Afghan officials and that this hampered the government in countering the Taleban attack. Civil society activists and elected provincial representatives have both highlighted this. Civil society activist, Nawruz Sharafat, for example, told Sarkhat Daily, “The Ghazni police chief and his police were fighting from midnight to midnight on 10 August, but no other security forces showed up to support them” (article not online). This lack of support might have been a result of overly optimistic official statements on the first day of the attack. Ghazni’s ANA brigade press office, for example, assured Ghazni residents that the situation was under control. It read: “Ghazni city is under the control of ANSF. We will make Ghazni a graveyard for the Taleban as we made Farah province the graveyard for them.” (see the statement here).

A provincial council member, Abdul Bari Shelgarai echoed Sharafat’s criticism. Referring to earlier Taleban attacks, such as the 2015 Ghazni jail break, he told AAN, “The ANA didn’t react to most of these incidents because, they say, they were not ordered to do so.” As a result, he said, most of the people fighting the Taleban during the latest attack on Ghazni were policemen. He said “Hundreds of ANP members were killed and wounded, but only a dozen ANA soldiers were.” In mid-September, Reuters quoted a Ministry of Interior (MoI) report that policemen had fought alone for over 28 hours before the army launched any counter-insurgency operation. “The Afghan National Police acted swiftly but they were defeated because they are not trained to fight the Taliban,” the report said.

Ghazni governor’s spokesman, Muhammad Aref Nuri, rebutted these claims when speaking to AAN. Based on what he called “the local security structure,” he said the “policemen are deployed to the so-called ‘security belt’ around the city.” The ANA’s responsibility is to provide protection to the highway, which, he said, is not part of the security belt. As the police were positioned on the frontline, they suffered more casualties than the ANA. Nuri also claimed the ANA commander had been leading the fighting that night and ANA officers were on duty at the coordination centre. He dismissed accusations of a lack of coordination. If it was the case that the government deliberately kept ANA soldiers aside in the face of an almost successful Taleban attack on a provincial capital, leaving its defence to the much more lightly-armed and vulnerable ANP, questions would have to be raised about priorities and orders.

Provincial Council member Shelgarai also alleged, when talking to AAN, that local security forces withdrew “without even putting up a fight” from Khwaja Omari district, from where one of the main attacks was carried out on 10 August. Such withdrawals also happened, he said, from “17 or 18 security posts” in areas to the northwest, west and southwest of Ghazni city. They were part of a total of 70 security personnel posted to the security belt around the city, consisting of the regular Afghan National Police but also Afghan Local Police and so-called ‘uprising units’, which are irregular local forces usually funded by NDS and with murky chains of command. The result of these withdrawals, he said, was that “The Taleban fighters got to the police headquarters in Ghazni city without much fighting.”

Some Afghan online media reported that the government forces’ withdrawal was the result of a pre-attack deal between the Taleban and local Hazara community elders in Ghazni city (see one report here). (2) Local Hazara people provided a different version of events in a series of conversations with AAN. These sources claimed that Taleban fighters had already reached central parts of the city and taken the police headquarters before the attacks on the outskirts. Hazara fighters had therefore engaged with enemy forces early on, but felt so outnumbered and outgunned that they doubted whether the provincial government would or could support them – notwithstanding the promised imminent arrival of government reinforcements from other parts of the city. AAN’s Hazara sources added that the Taleban had attacked the seriously below-strength – and mainly Hazara – security forces in the district centres before they attack Ghazni city. Security forces in places such as Jaghatu and Khwaja Omari had not received reinforcements despite their pleas from the spring of 2018 onwards for support (AAN reported here). AAN has learned that, after the Taleban killed more than half of the government forces’ tashkil during attack on Khwaja Omari district in April, 2018, many policemen left their jobs and only eight to ten ANP and ALP remained in Khwaja Omari.

In this situation, Hazara community elders said, they requested ‘their men’ in the security forces not to resist the Taleban because they feared their forces would be overwhelmed anyway and the fight might trigger a massacre of civilians. The Taleban have repeatedly said that they do not consider members of the Hazara community as targets on the grounds of their ethnicity or Shia faith. However, Hazara and Shia communities are nervous, especially given the brutal attacks by local Islamic State affiliate, ISKP (see UNAMA’s latest report on protection of civilians here). Many worry that there is a wider conspiracy including the Haqqani network within the Taleban and possibly elements in the security apparatus against them. The MoI report quoted above just said “that some policemen were scared and ran away to neighboring villages,” without pointing to particular groups.

The ‘Hazara narrative’ was also contradicted by governor spokesperson Nuri. He admitted certain ANP officers had ‘neglected’ their duty, but said this did not amount to “cooperation with the Taleban.” The security forces in Rawza, in Ghazni city and Khwaja Omari district had, he said, failed to resist the Taleban. “They left their posts without fighting… before the attackers arrived.” He said the officers were currently in Ghazni’s central jail and would be prosecuted. He gave no exact number of the number of ANP who had been arrested, but said they included Khwaja Omari’s acting district police chief, Alizada.

The final complaint against the government was that local officials appeared to have provided incorrect, ‘sugar-coated’ reports about the situation to the central government in Kabul. For example, Afghan media and The New York Times reported that President Ghani had been told in the early days of the attack that the situation in Ghazni was normal. Afghan daily Sarkhat put it like this (see here): “On the third day of the attack [only], did Ghani learn that the situation in Ghazni was abnormal,” and only then while in a meeting with youth representatives. Later, Muhammad Khan, CEO Abdullah Abdullah’s first deputy (who is from Qarabagh district in Ghazni), informed the president about what was happening. The president then took measures, but this was three days into the onslaught.

The US military in Afghanistan also followed the same line, as reported by The New York Times and The Long War Journal, of playing down the seriousness of the situation despite knowing what was happening.

Meanwhile, the insurgents’ communication channels were more active than those of the government. The Taleban shared timely updates of the fighting throughout the five-day onslaught, mostly on social media, while the government was silent or trying to pretend everything was normal.

Similarities to the 2015 Ghazni jail break

In their August 2018 attack, the Taleban used a tactic similar to the one used in their assault on Ghazni’s central jail three years earlier, in 2015 (see AAN’s previous piece here). Before moving to the jail then, the insurgents, in a diversionary operation, first attacked security posts in the Shahbaz area on the Kabul-Kandahar highway, as well as the QRF unit in the southwest of the city. When government forces responded, the Taleban launched their main attack and broke into the central jail, located in the southeast.

As to the 10 August 2018 attack, Taleban sources told AAN, “We signalled to the government that the plan was to attack Andar district centre. It sent Humvees and some reinforcements to Andar from Qarabagh district on 9 August. Then, on 10 August we targeted Ghazni city.” This narrative was backed up by two residents from Andar, where the Taleban have a permanent presence. Nemat and Rahimullah told AAN that in the early evening of 9 August they had seen “several Taleban fighters, in police Rangers that they had taken from government forces, moving towards Andar district centre. We thought they would carry out a major attack on the district centre. However, the next morning we got the surprising news from the radio that the Taleban had almost captured Ghazni city.”

Was it really a surprise attack?

Given the build-up of Taleban forces both in Ghazni’s surrounding districts as well as in parts of the city itself over the spring and summer (see earlier AAN analysis here), government officials as well as security forces should have expected an imminent attack.

There were many warning signs. Some weeks before the attack, Taleban fighters had carried out a campaign of assassinations throughout the city. Afghan media dubbed this the “terror machine in Ghazni” (for example, here). Over several months, locals in areas close to Ghazni city, including several villages in Andar district, reportedly saw non-local Taleban fighters moving in as part of this year’s Taleban ‘spring offensive’, codenamed ‘al-Khandaq’. The Red Unit’s presence was especially puzzling for them, as they had very little experience of seeing Taleban fighters from other provinces, particularly from Kandahar or Helmand. Such fighters had been seen in Ghazni province previously, but never in such large numbers as this year. The author also saw these ‘new’ Taleban and members of the Red Unit on several occasions going from house to house asking for food. The Taleban have also been active in Ghazni city itself, establishing a parallel government structure. This was not necessarily a sign of an imminent attack but should have worried officials, too, and prompted some countermeasures. (3)

Prior to this, when the Taleban announced their annual spring offensive (see here) – which began with an invasion of Farah city (see AAN’s analysis here) that turned out to be very similar to their later assault on Ghazni – the Taleban announced they planned to attack as many strategic provinces in the country as possible this year. This year’s strategy mirrors 2015, when they briefly captured Kunduz and the less successful, but still heavy follow-up attacks during 2016 and 2017. During an earlier visit to Ghazni and Andar district during Ramadan in early June 2018, the author spoke with several people who said the Taleban had announced publicly they planned “to perform Eid-ul Fitr prayers in Ghazni city.” Local residents that AAN consulted said at the time they understood by this that a major attack on Ghazni city was imminent.

The Taleban had a message for the people, that fighting would intensify over the summer, which it did – and was generally fiercer than last year. This included Red Unit fighters taking part in intensive fighting with Afghan security forces in Muqur, Deh Yak and Qarabagh districts. In October 2017 the Taleban laid siege to Andar district for three days. This year, they closed the highway on 3 May, and, as of writing this dispatch, it is still blocked (see also AAN’s previous dispatch here).

Conversations during the Eid-ul Fitr ceasefire in June with Taleban who have been part of the re-emerging Taleban movement in Andar district since 2004 indicated that local fighters had been aware of the plan to attack the city. When the author asked one commander to elaborate on plans during the ceasefire, he said: “We will fight as much as we can, to bring the government and the Americans under pressure.”

Given the lack of any major clearing operation around the city since the government’s Nabard-e Ahanin(Iron War) operation in February 2018 which targeted insurgents in Mangur and Qarabaghi villages near the city, the Taleban have been able to remain in areas such as Spandi, Qala-ye Qazi and Urzu, to where fighters moved before the August attack. Even during the February operation, no area was left entirely cleared of insurgents, according to provincial council member Amanullah Kamrani. Instead, he said, the operation drove civilians out of their houses. When a mortar shell hit civilian houses in Qarabaghi village near Ghazni city, seven civilians including a woman were killed. Both sides blamed each other for the incident (see this VOA report).

Parliamentarians from the province have repeatedly warned Kabul that an attack on Ghazni was imminent. Lawmaker Shah Gul Rezayi told the Wall Street Journal during the onslaught on Ghazni city that she and other lawmakers had met officials in Kabul before the attack. “They refused to heed our warnings,” she said. “Now you see the consequences.” Lawmakers also complained about inadequate resources linked to the fact that Ghazni is only listed according to the Central Statistics Office as a ‘second-tier’ province (out of three). Even AAN warned of an imminent major attack on Ghazni in May (see AAN’s dispatch here).

Many Afghans and observers had also wondered whether the Eid ceasefire, which enabled Taleban fighters to visit cities like Ghazni, had served as an opportunity for fighters to infiltrate the city. This cannot be completely ruled out, but it is a fact (and was reported in May by The New York Times) that there was already a significant Taleban presence there beforehand.

From the point of view of this analyst, who spends a considerable amount of time in Ghazni and Kabul, the main issue is that security in the province has been worsening for a number of years and the government has failed to remedy this. It is difficult to understand why neither Afghan nor US intelligence had heard or picked up the chatter about the Taleban’s readiness to intensify fighting, or, if they did, why they did not prepare themselves adequately. This contributed to conspiracy theories that there is support for the Taleban among the authorities. The lack of preparedness could also have resulted from the overestimation of the ANSF’s own capacity or underestimation of the Taleban’s abilities and intentions, in addition to the lack of readiness (and possibly fear) of reporting on the reality of the situation to the central government.

As to the slow reaction and poor reporting when the attack happened, one explanation is that senior officials were not in the city. The provincial governor was not even in the country at the time and only returned to Kabul some days after the siege began, while Deputy Governor Muhammad Amin Balegh was also out of the city (the attack was just before the Eid ul-Adha holiday). The provincial police chief was engaged in an operation in Deh Yak district. It was unclear who was in charge in their absence. All three officials were quickly cut off from the scene by the Taleban blacking out all communications to the city. All were also relatively new to their positions, having been appointed only two months prior to the attack (read about their appointments here, here: and here).

Conclusion: repeated mistakes

After the attacks in Kunduz in 2015 and Farah earlier in 2018, the Taleban attack on Ghazni city is a third example of the insurgents almost or entirely taking over a provincial centre (with Farah and Ghazni representing two major centres overrun in one year, see AAN’s previous dispatch). Even if only for a limited time, these incidents always come as another shock for the Afghan government and its supporters. They also serve as a reminder of the potential of the insurgent movement’s unbroken momentum.

The attack was a significant part of the Taleban’s military strategy this year, which has aimed, in part, to threaten a larger number of provincial centres. Attacks on provincial centres are an effective way of maintaining pressure on the government and its foreign backers. As mentioned earlier, is not clear whether they had planned a temporary or a permanent occupation. The government not only seemed to have been insufficiently prepared for the attack, despite the warning signs, underestimating Taleban capabilities and misreading the insurgents’ intentions. Coordination between the army and the police was clearly insufficient to counter an attack of this scale and the absence of any significant provincial leader exacerbated the problem.

The issue of coordination belies a deeper problem: using the ANP as a first line of defense might work in theory, but the army then needs to step in quickly, as it is clear that the police – particularly in the districts – are often outnumbered and outgunned by the Taleban. The lack of adequate cooperation and coordination among security officials has long been an issue throughout many parts of the country. In Ghazni, this was already obvious and with particularly dire consequences during the 2015 jail break. Back then, an investigation team sent from Kabul (see AAN’s reporting on it here) found a similar lack of coordination among security forces in the lead-up to that attack. It seems that, again, as in Kunduz (see AAN analysis here), there was insufficient practical follow-up on this finding.

It also remains unclear whether or how much support the Taleban had from residents within the city and from within the local government. If so, that would be most worrying for President Ghani.

The fact that the government retook the city after five days is less important than that they allowed its capture in the first place.

As AAN and others have described, an increasing number of Afghan cities are under permanent threat. In May 2018, we reported the Afghan Ministry of Defence indirectly confirmed that the Taleban was pursuing a strategy of surrounding provincial centres, citing Maimana (Faryab), Pul-e Khumri (Baghlan), Tirinkot (Uruzgan), Kunduz and also Faizabad (Badakhshan) as examples. Tellingly, Ghazni was not mentioned. AAN then commented that “Lashkargah (Helmand) and Sar-e Pul (where incidents are under-reported) could also be put into this category” and reported on the Taleban spring build-up all over Ghazni province. From what we compiled above, it was clear that the Afghan government should have had sufficient warning signs that the Taleban were planning an attack in Ghazni.

Under these circumstances it is almost a blessing that the Independent Election Commission postponed the parliamentary election in Ghazni planned for 20 October 2018, ordering that they be held with presidential elections planned for 20 April 2019. It is doubtful, though, whether the government will have been able to significantly improve province’s security by then. This will be largely impossible over the winter. A massive government spring offensive will be too close to election day and could disrupt preparations for the polls.

Meanwhile, the Taleban have continued to expand their control in the province. Since August they have increased their full control from three districts – Nawa, Khogyani and Rashidan – to eight; the Taleban have captured all areas, including the district centres, of Andar, Deh Yak, Khwaja Omari, Jaghatu, and Ajristan. This allows them also to control sections of the key highways that connect Ghazni with the southern and eastern provinces of Afghanistan. These developments, the continuing lack of government action and an increase in airstrikes on the province will be further explored in the second part of this series on insecurity in Ghazni province.

Edited by and input from Thomas Ruttig, Sari Kouvo and Kate Clark

 

 

(1) Other casualty figures reported by the media included:

BBC Pashto quoting a ‘local official’: “In the five-day fighting in Ghazni, 60 civilians, 145 ANSF members and 533 Taleban fighters were killed or wounded.”

In the same report, Defense Minister Tareq Shah Bahrami was quoted as saying, “Nearly 100 security forces, 30 civilians and 200 Taleban fighters were killed and more than 100 were wounded.”

An Azadi radio report quoted officials from the Afghan Red Crescent Society (ARCS) on 18 August, stating they had collected the bodies “of nearly 200 people” and handed them over to their relatives. The ARCS officials did not specify whether these were bodies of civilians, ANSF or Taleban fighters.

The New York Times, quoting a ‘senior official’, reported that “the death toll was 155 police and soldiers, 60 to 70 civilians, and 430 insurgents.”

(2) AAN has previously reported about local deals between the Taleban and Hazara communities, for example in Baghlan in 2015/16 and, as AAN heard from local sources, in Jaghori district (see also this media report).

(3) One feature of this parallel structure is the Taleban’s system of tax collection from local residents. This spring, a local doctor told the author that an official from the government’s revenue department had surveyed most of the health clinics and diagnostic centres. The next day, doctors received calls from the Taleban telling them to go to Mangur village, a small town about seven kilometres to the south of the city in order to pay taxes to the Taleban. The doctor told AAN “We were wondering whether the survey was leaked to the Taleban, but no one knows what happened to it.” On the third day of the survey, most of the doctors, including the one who talked to AAN, were “negotiating the amount of tax with the Taleban finance representative.” Moreover, he said “Some doctors paid 10,000 Afghanis, some less than that, per one year.” Tolonews also conducted an investigation into the tax collection, in which a Taleban spokesman told the reporter that “The group successfully collected over three million Afghanis from Ghazni alone this year” (the report can be accessed here). One local journalist who did not want to be named explained to AAN that Taleban fighters had also been able to establish a court system where they resolve disputes between residents of the city, summoning people to the courts. In one significant case, a former Ghazni governor, Karim Matin, reportedly took a legal dispute to the Taleban court, according to Ali Akbar Qasimi, a parliamentarian from Ghazni citing a media report (see here). Kabul-based Sarkhat Daily also reported this issue on 17 April 2018.

 

 

 

With the renewed focus on possible peace talks in Afghanistan, it is useful to look at what can be learned from processes in other countries. Although they cannot be treated as models, they can serve as examples of what is possible and provide inspiration, ideas and a shared language. In the first dispatch of a new series, Martine van Bijlert looks at the 2016 peace agreement between the Colombian government and the country’s largest guerrilla group, the FARC. She discusses the main choices – talks without ceasefire, meetings only outside the country, a limited but ambitious agenda and taking the time it needs – and notes how the case of Colombia shows both what is possible and what is difficult in trying to bring a complex conflict to an end.  

1. The Colombian conflict; how is it similar and different to Afghanistan?

Afghanistan in search of a peace process

Afghanistan is in search of a peace process. The Afghan government has just unilaterally ‘launched’ a peace plan in the hope of regaining the initiative. The US is signalling it hopes to reach some kind of breakthrough – either in direct talks with the Taleban or with the Afghan government on board – before its president runs out of patience. The Taleban, in the meantime, have softened their public positions enough to make exploratory talks possible, but have not yet articulated a clear commitment or wish for a negotiated peace. The three-way-relationship is complicated (even without taking the wider international and regional context into account) and does not yet add up to a process with direction or buy-in. It does provide opportunities.

However, in much of the talk about a possible process and in the wish to rush the process along, there is often little acknowledgement of how long negotiations tend to take, how difficult and winding they usually are, and how much determination, patience and skill is required to reach – and keep – agreements. The study of other peace processes can then bring necessary depth to the discussions and infuse them with both hope (that it is possible for parties who feel harmed, betrayed and distrustful to agree on a plan for peace) and realism (that these are long processes that often fail and that in the short term their outcomes rarely lead to the hoped-for stability).

This first dispatch looks at the case of Colombia. It does so with the necessary hesitation, as decades of studying Afghanistan have made it clear that conflicts tend to be more complicated and textured when analysed from within, than when viewed from the outside with a bird’s eye perspective. Nevertheless, in order to be able to ‘compare’ the two countries and to draw inspiration and lessons, this dispatch starts with some summary remarks on the Colombian conflict and its relevance for Afghanistan, after which it presents a more detailed discussion of the peace process and an overview of how this might be relevant for Afghanistan. (1)

The conflict in Colombia

Colombia’s conflict has its origins in the civil war between the country’s two main parties, the Conservatives and the Liberals, which started in 1948. After a decade of violence that left an estimated 200,000 people dead, the two sides agreed in 1958 to share power in a bipartisan system that excluded all other groups. When small farmers and land workers protested the dispossession of their lands in favour of industrial farming, the new government embarked on a US-backed, anti-communist campaign of repression that inspired to the emergence new insurgent groups with communist affiliations, including the FARC. The establishment of FARC – or Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (2) – was in particular inspired by a large army assault in 1964 on a “self-defence community” in the south of the country.

Although over time FARC also established an urban presence, it remained an overwhelmingly rural movement. It was tightly organised: small tactical groups that made up larger fighting units, which were in turn organised into regional blocs (for more background see here and here).

The Colombian conflict, like Afghanistan’s, is complicated by the range of armed groups – state security forces, paramilitary groups, guerrillas – and their strong links to criminal gangs and drug trafficking cartels.There is also an international dimension. Over the decades, the Colombian government and security forces received extensive US support for their counterinsurgency and counter-narcotics policies; during the Cold War as part of the fight against communism and later as part of the regional war on drugs. The paramilitary groups that were set up to fight the guerrillas have now become problems in their own right. As a result, violence – including killings and forced disappearances – and drug trafficking has persisted, even after the concluding of the peace agreement (more on this below; see also here).

During the five decades of conflict an estimated 267,000 people were killed; an average of over 5,000 deaths per year. The overwhelming majority of them – 82 per cent – were civilians. Most of them were killed through assassination, followed by combat and massacres (terrorist attacks and landmines featured at the bottom of causes of civilian death). Almost 100,000 of the civilians were killed by right-wing paramilitary groups; over 35,000 were killed by FARC, ELN and other guerrilla groups. (For comparison, UNAMA  verified almost 3,500 civilian deaths in Afghanistan in 2017, mainly due to IEDs, suicide attacks and combat.)

Colombia’s conflict led to massive internal displacement – more than seven million people on a total population of around 49 million – and filled whole areas with a constant threat of violence and gross human rights abuses. At least 46,000 people (and possibly up to 80,000) are estimated to have been forcibly ‘disappeared’ – the majority of them are believed to be dead – over 32,000 people were kidnapped by a wide variety of organised armed groups. (Quoted figures can be found here and here).

At its peak in 2002, the FARC was present in half of the country’s municipalities and was estimated to have had more than 20,000 active combatants. At the time of the peace agreement, Colombian security forces estimated FARC had around 6-7,000 active fighters left, with an estimated 8,500 civilians who actively supported the movement (for more details, see here and here).

Almost every Colombian government since the 1980s tried its hand at peace negotiations; including three earlier rounds of talks with FARC that each ushered in new escalations of the conflict after they broke down (for more details on earlier talks, see here). The ceasefire accord of the 1980s simply faded away as the two sides continued to hit each other hard (including the decimation of FARC’s new – unarmed – political wing, the Patriotic Union, by right-wing paramilitaries). Talks in the early 1990s broke down in the midst of killings, kidnappings and disagreements over the details of a ceasefire. A third round of talks, from 1999 to 2002, started in response to widespread popular mobilisation in support of peace. The talks involved a wide-ranging agenda that included state reforms. A demilitarised zone within the country provided neutral territory for dialogue, but also served as a strategic area where the FARC could regroup. After the talks broke down, Alvaro Uribe, who had campaigned on a promise to defeat the guerrillas, took over as president and embarked on a “Democratic Security” policy that weakened the FARC and was accompanied by serious human rights abuses, including the widespread extrajudicial killings of civilians.

In terms of regional relations, the FARC, together with Colombia’s second largest guerrilla group the National Liberation Army (ELN), benefited greatly from cross-border sanctuary in neighbouring Ecuador and Venezuela. But this also meant that these countries had influence which could potentially be leveraged for peace. In 2007, for instance, Uribe briefly asked Venezuela’s president Hugo Chávez to mediate between the Colombian army and the FARC in the so-called Humanitarian Exchange of hostages against prisoners – although relations soon deteriorated again. In 2010, after a secret back channel to FARC had been opened, Uribe was quoted in a US diplomatic cable published by Wikileaks saying that FARC “would never negotiate as long as it enjoyed a safe haven in Venezuela coupled with a steady income from drug trafficking.” Later, after relations between the two countries improved, Venezuela did use its influence in support of the 2012-16 peace negotiations with FARC. (It was asked to play a similar role in the 2017 negotiations with ELN, but Colombia’s new president ended up first blocking Venezuela’s role and then suspending the talks altogether).

There are obvious similarities between Colombia and Afghanistan: an array of violent armed groups operating with little accountability under the banner of national security or revolt against the state; a pervasiveness of drug interests and other opportunities offered by a conflict economy; US support on one side and neighbouring sanctuaries on the other. There are also important differences. International and regional players were not as deeply enmeshed in the conflict in Colombia as they are in Afghanistan. Although the US supported Colombia’s counter-narcotic and counterinsurgency operations, it was not directly involved in combat. And the fault lines between the warring parties in Colombia seemed a lot clearer than in Afghanistan, the government more cohesive and less fragile, the insurgency more structured, and the positions with regard to possible peace negotiations more developed.

There have been a few public references to Colombia in the discussions around Afghanistan’s search for a peace process. At the end of May 2018, General John Nicholson, while still commander of the Resolute Support military mission in Afghanistan, alluded to Colombia when discussing levels of violence in the midst of increased talk of dialogue. Two weeks later, then Afghan Ambassador to the US, Hamdullah Mohib (now the National Security Adviser to the President), let it be known on Twitter that he was visiting Colombia “to meet with authorities on their experiences with peace and reconciliation.” While General Nicholson emphasised the fact that violence and progress can coexist, Mohib stressed the transitional justice component of the Colombian peace deal. (3)

The lessons that can be learned from Colombia relate most directly to the possibility of bilateral negotiations between the Taleban and the Afghan government. At the same time they can also inform other aspects of a possible process, including the direct exploratory talks between the US and the Taleban, the various track two engagements by non-governmental institutions or other countries, the possibility of a broader national process – with or without interim government – that is regularly suggested by political hopefuls, or a more incremental process, as discussed in this recent publication (for a brief AAN discussion of the ACCORD report, see here).

1. How was Colombia’s peace agreement with the FARC reached?

Run-up to the official talks: a letter, a delay, and 69 meetings (2009-12)

The peace talks with FARC that led to the 2016 agreement started in 2009 with a series of letters from the government’s peace commissioner, Frank Pearl, delivered to the FARC leadership by a local businessman. Progress from there was slow. A secret meeting in Brazil in the summer of 2010 was cancelled because of a fall-out between Colombia’s President Alvaro Uribe and Venezuela’s President Hugo Chavez (more background here). The backchannel was only revived after president Juan Manuel Santos took over in 2010.

By that time, both sides were more ready for talks than they had been in a long time. The FARC had been hit hard by the Colombian government’s military operations, which had resulted in the loss of key commanders and a significant level of defections. The movement had been weakened, but was slowly regaining military effectiveness. Still, neither side were in a position to win. There was also increasing pressure, both from international actors and the business community at home, to put an end to the violence and ensure stability. Venezuela, in particular, encouraged the group to enter into negotiations. President Chavez, according to a US analyst at the time, no longer considered FARC crucial to the regional role he had in mind for himself: “You have a president who wants to be seen as a peacemaker and wants to unite the region and cares about that,” Isacson said of Chavez. “Whatever advantage he saw in having a relationship with the FARC is probably now gone.”

A clandestine meeting on the border with Venezuela in spring 2011 was followed by an intense string of secret exploratory meetings in Havana, in the presence of Norway and Cuba who functioned as guarantors and informal facilitators. After 69 meetings in less than six months, the two sides agreed to embark on formal peace talks and signed a framework agreement that spelled out the goal, agenda and ground rules of the talks.

Former president Uribe, now a leading critic of the Santos administration, leaked the existence of talks to the press. The government initially denied the claim, but on 4 September 2012 President Santos announced that an agreement had been signed and formal talks would indeed take place. He stressed that “past mistakes would not be repeated,” saying there would be no demilitarised zones, no suspension of military operations and that talks would be held outside Colombia with international support.

Shielding the peace talks from war and politics (2012-16)

Early on, while he was still advising President Uribe, Colombia’s peace commissioner Frank Pearl had formulated four ‘tenets’ which he considered crucial for the success of any possible negotiations that would take place (see here). They were based on an analysis of why the previous Colombian peace talks had failed, and later formed the foundation of Colombia’s peace process with the FARC. These four tenants consisted of: (a) starting with a secret phase of talks to agree on an agenda; (b) having the actual conversations outside Colombia, away from the glare of the media and the public eye; (c) ensuring that the military were also at the negotiating table; and (d) ensuring buy-in from the region, particularly from the neighbouring countries Venezuela and Ecuador.

Formal negotiations started in October 2012, in Cuba, swiftly after they had been announced. The delegations lived in Havana on a secluded compound near a lake, in three separate houses: one for the government’s delegation, one for the FARC and one for the Norwegian delegation, whose members acted as witnesses and informal facilitators. Both the isolation and the proximity meant that the delegations’ members could easily meet and mingle. The infrastructure of the talks was kept simple; delegations were relatively small: up to thirty people, with no more than ten at the table and no more than five actually speaking. There were no additional advisory units or support groups, although the teams did consult and fly in experts when needed (for more technical details on the process, see here).

The agenda consisted of a relatively limited list of six points: rural development and reform, political participation, an end to the conflict, a solution to the problem of illicit drugs, victims’ rights, and the implementation, verification and endorsement of the agreement. Talks followed a high-intensity schedule, but according to DagNylander, Norway’s main envoy, it soon became clear that the process would take much longer than anticipated. Both sides needed time to start understanding how the other side viewed the conflict, its roots and its possible solutions.

Discussions explicitly included the ‘difficult issues’ of transitional justice (4) and the fact that both sides were involved in drug networks and drug financing. It was also agreed that the six issues would be discussed sequentially, with the understanding that “nothing was agreed until everything was agreed.” The principle, borrowed from the Northern Irish negotiations of the 1998 Good Friday Agreement, stipulated that partial agreements could not be considered agreements on their own. This meant that, as the talks progressed and both sides increasingly had a stake in the outcome, it increasingly became in their interest to de-escalate, build trust, ensure buy-in from their impatient and suspicious constituencies and increase the irreversibility of the process (including through support for confidence-building measures, such as informal ceasefires, demining programs, the release of child combatants, the search for the dead and disappeared and the release of prisoners). For more detail on the substance of the negotiations, see here.

The parties further agreed to three important ground rules: there would be no demands for a ceasefire as precondition to the process; the overarching goal of the talks was an end to the conflict and the handing over of weapons by the FARC; and nothing that happened ‘on the outside’ would be allowed to influence or derail the discussions in the room. Particularly the last point proved both difficult to uphold and crucial to the success of the process. Over the years, there were a few instances where major attacks and losses, on both sides, angered the negotiating teams and threatened to upend the trust they had built. But the prior agreement to keep talking, no matter what happened – with the help and mediation of Norwegian and Cuban facilitators – kept the talks from being fatally derailed.

Civil society demands a seat at the table

The way the designers had envisaged the peace process was that there would first be a secret phase of preparations, then a secluded phase of talks and, only after the peace agreement had been concluded, a third phase of “conflict transformation” in which the wider society would be involved. Recognising the risks of a process that was only minimally connected to other parts of society, the Colombian government did try to keep the population informed and to provide opportunities for consultation, mainly through gatherings and online platforms. But civil society, in particular the women’s networks, soon demanded greater and more direct representation – and with good reason.

For decades, Colombia’s women’s networks and civil society groups had worked for peace. They had lobbied for legislation, defended human rights, promoted public discourse in favour of peace, and had mediated and mitigated conflict in their own communities. They had helped prepare the ground for talks and helped keep support for peace alive. Many of them had suffered a great deal and were concerned about what a possible deal could look like.

In particular the women’s groups were dismayed by how little input they had. Both men and women were victims of Colombia’s violence; both men and women had non-violently fought for peace; and both men and women, in particular in the case of the FARC, had made up the fighting forces (although the FARC leadership still consisted mainly of men). Whereas in previous peace talks, some strides had been made in terms of having women at the table, when the talks started in Havana only one of the 20 delegates was a woman (on the side of FARC).

In October 2013, a National Summit of Women for Peace was called. Several hundred women activists from all over the country gathered and called for an inclusive peace process, asking the parties to stay at the table until an agreement was reached; to include women at the peace table and at every stage of the process; and to explicitly consider women’s needs, interests, and experiences of conflict during the talks.

As a result of a sustained this civil society lobby, several delegations of victims, women’s activists and indigenous minority groups travelled to Havana to meet with the negotiating teams and ensure that their views were heard. This was not a mere formality. The visits and discussions, for instance, led the FARC to start a process of acknowledgement, apology, and amends towards its victims. (For more on the role of women in Colombia’s peace process, see here and here).

Reaching an agreement – and almost losing it again (2016)

After a little over three and a half years of intensive talks, the text of the peace agreement was agreed in June 2016. It was formally signed on 26 September 2016, in the presence of UN Secretary General Ban Ki-Moon, US State Secretary John Kerry, Cuban President Raul Castro and many other dignitaries. Key points of the peace deal included: the disarmament and demobilisation of FARC in return for security guarantees for the demobilised fighters; the establishment of a Special Jurisdiction for Peace to try crimes committed during the conflict; the agreement to help stamp out drug production (by FARC) and help develop alternative sources of income (by the government); the provision of land, credit lines and basic services to impoverished rural communities; and the transformation of FARC into a political party with five guaranteed seats in each chamber of Congress (the agreement also included a “comprehensive security system” that was supposed to protect, among others, the members of the new party).

The peace deal was put up for referendum on 2 October 2016, as had been agreed beforehand. Polls indicated it would be passed with an easy majority, but it was, instead, rejected by a slim margin: 50.2 against 49.8 per cent – a difference of fewer than 54,000 votes (turnout had been low, less than 38 per cent of the total number of voters). This was a considerable setback.

Most people in the No-camp did not appear to be against a peace deal per se (see here), but they felt that the FARC fighters, and particularly their commanders, were being treated far too leniently under the proposed transitional justice mechanism. (Guerrillas who were convicted under this mechanism, would receive reduced sentences if they confessed and expressed remorse: they would be given “restriction of liberty” but not jail time, and would not be barred from political or electoral office.) There was also a political dimension. The No-vote was strongest in areas where the party of former president Uribe had most support, while the vote in favour of the agreement was highest in areas that had suffered most during the conflict. (Author Jacobo Grajales argued that the Yes-vote in these areas was not just a mobilisation of direct victims, but that it most of all represented a wish to see a redeployment of the state and of public services. For more background on the vote, see also here).

In response to the referendum, the government met with the leaders of the No-campaign to register their demands and then reopened negotiations in Havana with the FARC. After six weeks of talks they arrived at a revised agreement. Conditions and definitions of the transitional mechanism were significantly tightened, but the main sticking points – no jail time and no barring from political office – were maintained. FARC also kept the ten guaranteed parliamentary seats, at least for the first two terms. (A summary of key changes in the agreement can be found here.)

The revised agreement was not put up for referendum again, but instead presented to Congress where supporters of the deal held a majority. After opponents of the agreement boycotted the vote, the new text was ‘unanimously’ approved and was officially signed (again) on 24 November 2016.

III. What happened since the signing of Colombia’s revised peace agreement?

The elation that was felt after the conclusion of the agreement, at least internationally, did not carry over into its implementation. Most FARC units left their areas and disarmed – in June 2017 the UN announced it had completed weapons collection from 7,000 fighters – but their reintegration stalled and the release of jailed rebels was slowed by delays in passing the necessary laws for the special peace tribunals (more details here.) The first hearings took place on 13 July 2018 when FARC leader Rodrigo “Timochenko” Londoño, along with two other FARC bosses, gave testimony of his involvement in kidnappings.

FARC reformed itself into a communist-leaning political party and participated in the March 2018 parliamentary election, but it did not do very well. (5) All FARC candidates combined received less than 0.5 per cent of the vote, which means that without the seats guaranteed in the peace agreement they would have had no parliamentary representation at all. Days earlier, the FARC had already withdrawn its presidential candidate for reasons of ill health. Polls suggested he would have probably received less than one per cent of the vote.

The struggling peace process took another hit when the presidential election was won by Iván Duque, an Uribe protégé who had campaigned on a platform that criticised the deal (he defeated Bogotá’s former mayor Gustavo Petro, once a leftist rebel himself, in the second round of voting). In his inauguration speech on 7 August 2018, Duque said he intended to review the agreement with FARC, as well as the ongoing talks with ELN. (In September 2018 Duque did indeed suspend talks, in an attempt to force the ELN to abandon its armed struggle. The talks – which had been designed similarly to those with FARC: in Havana with Venezuela, Cuba, Chile, Brazil and Norway acting as guarantors – had already been complicated by deteriorating relations between Venezuela and Colombia).

Violence, which had initially decreased after the peace agreement with FARC, is increasingly on the rise again, in particular in areas vacated by rebels where the government failed to fill the vacuum. Competition over the control of coca cultivation has intensified and turned violent. Competing groups include the so-called paramilitary successor groups that have their roots in right-wing paramilitary units that were never properly demobilised (see for instance here), and the ‘ex-FARC mafia’ – which has become a gathering place for dissident FARC units, upcoming mafia bosses and disgruntled former fighters, and is estimated to comprise of around 2500 former FARC members. Dissident FARC units claimed they did not demobilise for ideological reasons, but at the same time made sure to safeguard their revenue streams from drugs, illegal mining and extortion. Other fighters said they remobilised once they realised how unprotected they were against targeting by paramilitary groups. But there are also those who simply walked away from the peace process without justification and are now seeking to take over as much of the cocaine supply chain as they can.

The increased violence has particularly targeted social activists, community leaders and human rights defenders. According to the office of the Colombian human rights ombudsman at least 311 leaders and human rights defenders were killed between January 2016 and June 2018; this NYT article quoted a figure of at least 190 community leaders killed in 2018 alone. A considerable number of those killed were directly involved in projects linked to the peace agreement (see this report). Observers consider the killings part of an attempt to close down political participation, keep out government development projects and undermine efforts to control the coca cultivation. Civil society activists fear that a government response could lead to a ‘militarisation of the peace,’ which would only further shrink the space for social organisations that had newly opened up after the peace agreement.

1. Key features that could be relevant for Afghanistan

A shared goal and shared commitment to the process

When General Nicholson alluded to the Colombian peace process, he suggested that its success had been based on the decision to talk and fight at the same time, and to keep the talks secret. And it was indeed crucial to their success that Colombia’s talks were not made public before both sides were ready and that they were not made conditional on a ceasefire agreement. The main lesson, however, may arguably be a different one: the importance of a publicly acknowledged, shared goal – to end the conflict and to keep talking, whatever happens. This helped decrease the risk (although it is never absent) of spoilers seeking to undermine talks by violating ceasefires, provoking escalations of violence, and manufacturing or exaggerating political crises.

But such a joint commitment is difficult, in every conflict situation. Parties do not trust each other and the population tends to be wary of the process. In Afghanistan the situation is further complicated by the lack of agreement on who should be making the peace. The Afghan government views itself as the convener of talks and the keeper of the moral high ground, while the Taleban do not even recognise them as the main party in the conflict and insist on negotiating with the Americans (who they view as an occupying force that unseated their legitimate government and is the main hurdle to them regaining power). Divisions within the government’s camp have further complicated the situation, (6) as has the fact that the Americans are also directly talking to the Taleban.

For talks to be useful, the different sides will need to acknowledge each other as valid partners in the search for peace. Where the Afghan government prefers to treat talks as a way to welcome insurgents back into the fold, the Taleban will need at least a public acknowledgement that the desired end goal is to live in a country without both conflict and foreign occupation.

The clear commitment to end the conflict, that helped the negotiating teams in Colombia to continue when things were difficult, stemmed from the realisation that neither side had much to win from a prolonged conflict. Afghanistan does not seem to have reached that point yet, even though it is obvious that neither side will win. (The Taleban may hope to ‘outwait’ the current government, in the hope that it implodes in the face of decreasing international support, but that scenario is unlikely to be much of a victory for anyone. With so many autonomous armed actors, and so many crosscutting fault lines, the risk of renewed factional war or general chaos in the wake of a government collapse is considerable).

The different parties to the conflict – most prominently the Afghan government, the Taleban and the US – are indicating that they will probably engage in some form of talks, but there is no sign yet of a shared determination or commitment to bring the war to an end. With all sides still holding out hope to militarily beat or weaken the other, peace – or at least an attempt to reach it together – has not yet convincingly become the best option. This does not mean that there are no reasons to talk, or that talks cannot help engender trust. It does mean that there is still a fairly long way to go.

In the case of Colombia, it took the parties almost four years to reach an agreement, and this was after they had determined that they would keep talking until they could end the conflict. It took them this long, even though they had experience to build on from earlier peace negotiations, had the help of experienced facilitation, and followed a high-intensity schedule. The parties in Afghanistan have had much less practice and have, up till now, had no consistent facilitation and only sporadic meetings. And as discussed above, there is no consensus as yet on which parties should be at the table. The process can therefore be expected to take a while and to be preceded by a fairly long and tentative process of preparatory talks.

Whatever formula is finally chosen for the talks, it will need to acknowledge and accommodate the fact that this is not a purely Afghan conflict, given the participation of international troops in the war, the involvement donor countries in the running of the government, the longstanding safe havens in Pakistan, the large refugee populations in Iran and Pakistan, and the context of a global war on violent extremism and terror. (7)

Limited – but consistent, flexible and crucial – outside help

In Colombia, like in many other conflicts, even when all sides were convinced they needed to talk, the distrust of each other’s intentions remained immense. It was clear from the outset that it would be difficult to even agree on basic parameters without outside help to facilitate and legitimate the process in some way. At the same time, both parties also wanted to keep control and maintain responsibility over the peace process, which is why they chose a method of direct negotiation with only limited outside help.

Norway and Cuba, who had already witnessed and facilitated the exploratory talks, were asked to be part of the formal talks as “guarantors,” while Venezuela and Chile were sought out as “accompanying countries” (while it was clear early on that Venezuela needed to be involved in some way, Chile was asked to join by the Colombian government to somewhat balance President Chavez’ role). The specific roles of the supporting countries were not specified, other than that the guarantors would attend all plenary sessions but would not speak and the accompanying countries would be briefed at the end of each round of talks.

This lack of precision provided a lot of flexibility. In practice, Cuba and Norway monitored the parties’ compliance, acted as the repository of negotiated texts, announced agreements to the public when requested, and facilitated the participation of independent technical experts (for instance on transitional justice and international law). In times of crisis or fundamental differences, they proposed alternatives or enlisted additional substantive support.

It is difficult to envisage a thoughtful and sustained process in Afghanistan without some form of consistent, knowledgeable and neutral outside help. An outside party will not only help keep the parties at the table once talks have started, but can also in the run-up to the talks help determine who should be part of them, what should be discussed and at which stages. Such an involvement could have a very paired-down form, as was the case in Colombia, with the supporters functioning as observers, facilitators and ‘guardians of documents’, providing input and witnessing. This will obviously need to be done by countries and/or individuals without a direct stake and who are not in a hurry to declare success.

The delicate trade-off: a slow and controversial process, removed from both the war and the wider society

Colombia’s decision to hold both preliminary and formal talks outside the country, away from media, politics and the battlefield, allowed the negotiators to reach an agreement under difficult circumstances. It also provided the teams with an important opportunity to build trust. Frank Pearl, one of the government’s negotiators, recalled how tense those first meetings had been:“There were very mixed emotions, because we were sitting in front of people who had committed enormous atrocities. And they were facing representatives of a government they considered illegitimate and unjust.”

Nylander recalled that: “These negotiations took much longer than what we anticipated. But we understood this relatively soon when we entered into the talks. (…) The two first agenda items, land reform and political participation really go to the roots of the conflict. This is really why the FARC, back in the sixties, took to weapons. And these two issues of course being at the root of the conflict, it took some time for the parties to talk their way through the history to understand the perspective of the other.” In another interview, he remarked philosophically that “Any dialogue between human beings changes them.”

To maintain the opportunity to build trust, it was crucial that all parties had agreed and, most importantly, adhered to rules of confidentiality and protocols for public engagement. Particularly during the early covert discussions, secrecy had protected the talks from being derailed. Although the track record in Afghanistan seems to be improving somewhat, past attempts to start talks with the Taleban have been often accompanied by leaks, premature public statements or the wish to portray the other side’s willingness to talk as evidence of weakness. Maintaining discretion has also been complicated by the many international diplomats and generals, as well as Afghan government officials, who often feel pressure or a desire to claim progress where there is none yet, or where it is better left to quietly mature.

The downside of a shielded process in a low-trust environment is, of course, that those who are not at the table do not know what is being discussed. They are afraid their interests will not be taken into account and they worry they may be harmed by whatever is agreed. This can be remedied, but only partially, by being clear and transparent about the goals and principles of possible talks, by a careful choice of negotiators and facilitators, and by regular, spin-free updates on where the talks stand. But the example of Colombia also illustrates that even a thoughtful, carefully negotiated peace agreement can be highly contentious, particularly in a polarised setting.

In the case of Afghanistan, concerns that need particular attention include fears that the current government is harbouring a Pashtun nationalist bias or agenda (which could be furthered by a peace deal with the Taleban); fears that the political culture of factionalism, power sharing and impunity would be further entrenched (by offering the Taleban leadership yet another piece of the pie without addressing the causes and consequences of the conflict); fears that the government and the international community may be willing to sacrifice the rights of women, minorities and Afghans in general, as well as the country’s modest gains in terms of rule of law and freedoms and protections, in exchange for a nominal peace.

A process based on lessons from the past

The design of the Colombian peace process was based on lessons from other conflicts, as well as lessons learned by studying earlier rounds of talks. This was incorporated in the four ‘tenets’ that later undergirded the process: a secret phase to agree on an agenda; talks taking place outside Colombia; the military at the negotiating table; and buy-in from the region. In his recent peace plan, President Ghani also presented four “tenets.” Although the use of the word seems to be a reference to the Colombian process, his tenets seem to refer to a desired common ground (respect for the Constitution and rule of law, no political participation for groups with links to terrorism) rather than to principles for how to best structure the process.

Other decisions in Colombia’s peace process based on lessons from the past included the choice not to insist on a ceasefire. The fact that the FARC had been able to regroup during talks in the late 1990s made it politically difficult to defend an early ceasefire to those who were sceptical of the FARC’s commitment to the process. A ceasefire would have also increased chances of the talks breaking down, as had been the case in earlier rounds. On the other hand, the absence of a bilateral ceasefire did mean that the public received contradictory messages about the true intentions of both sides and that after instances of brutal violence people questioned why negotiations continued.

Afghanistan may well face a similar situation – talks without a ceasefire – as it seems unlikely that the various sides will be able to agree on the details and conditions, or that the agreement would hold. But even without a full ceasefire, there will need to be a marked decrease in violence, particularly against civilian crowds, and a clear condemnation of such attacks.

Another decision based on lessons learned from the past was to agree on a limited agenda for the actual talks. The last round of Colombian talks, before this one, had involved an agenda with 12 issues and 48 sub-issues, many of which were beyond the scope of what the negotiators could decide or, many people felt, the FARC was in a position to demand (including for instance a full revision of the country’s economic and social development model, reform of the justice system and reform of the state).

Afghanistan has not had several rounds of previous talks with the Taleban, but it can still learn from its past. It can first of all look at previous negotiation and peace processes, including the 1988 Geneva Accord, the 1993 Islamabad Accord (after which signatories went to Mecca to swear their allegiance to the agreement), the 2000/1 UNSMA mediations between the Taleban and the Northern Alliance, the 2001 Bonn process, the 2014 National Unity Government (NUG) agreement and the 2017 deal with Hezb-e Islami.

What is noticeable about Afghanistan’s most recent agreements – the Bonn Agreement, NUG Agreement and the Hezb deal – is that they have all been fairly rushed, fairly limited in scope, and birthed with the help of international partners that had timelines of their own. There are some indications that this may be about to happen again. US envoy for Afghanistan Reconciliation Zalmay Khalilzad recently indicated that he was “in a hurry to end the Afghan tragedy” and that he – implausibly – hoped the Taleban and Afghans would use the upcoming election, currently scheduled for April 2019, as a deadline to achieve a peace agreement (when further pressed he dodged the questions and indicated he was both in a hurry and realistic). Members of the Afghan High Peace Council, said Khalilzad had been given six months to show his administration results in the talks between the US and the Taleban. This does not bode very well for a thoughtful process, particularly as the commitment to actual talks, by all sides, is still under question.

What should be on the agenda?

Because the Afghan government and the Taleban – as well as the Afghan government and the US – have had relatively little practice in terms of formal talks with each other, there is limited clarity on what the agenda and the various positions might be. On the surface, the positions are clear. The Afghan government has positioned itself as the defender of the constitution, while the Taleban present themselves as a national movement, fighting for an Islamic government and against a foreign occupier and the government it is backing. But within the movement there are diverging views that have not yet crystallised. (8) As a result it is not clear what the Taleban would articulate as their main concerns and demands.

It would be useful if a possible process would provide time, both within the government and Taleban ranks – as well as among the people who consider themselves ‘caught in the middle’ – to let new positions and insights emerge. For the Taleban this would involve articulating what they stand for (probably some form of a justice, anti-corruption and Islamic government agenda – which sounds very much like the more conservative campaign platforms of Afghan ‘regular’ politicians) and what that would look like in terms of possible demands for reform or changes in the current political system. They will need to explore what it might mean for their reputation to become part of the system. If their demands are too radical, they risk losing support, even within their own ranks. If their demands are too general, they risk losing their edge.

In practice, the reasons for fighters to join the movement, particularly at the local level, are rarely related to what is presumed to be high on the Taleban’s ideological agenda (limits to women’s education and employment, changes to the constitution) or what is – implausibly – considered attractive to the leadership (a handful of ministries, control over some provinces, participation in the elections). It is actually not that clear what the Taleban would need to receive, not just at the leadership level, to satisfy their ranks and supporters, in exchange for a commitment to lay down their arms.

A useful concept, once preliminary talks have started, could be that of the “principles for peace,” which was first used in the Northern Irelands talks. “Principles for peace” are principles that the majority of each side can agree to, providing a common framework transcending factional lines. (9) In essence, the shared commitment in the Colombian process to keep talking until the two sides agreed how to end the conflict and demobilise FARC, can be seen as such a principle.

The role of women in the peace process

In Colombia, civil society and particularly women’s networks played an important role in support of peace (more background here). When the peace process, by design, kept the wider society at arms length, women (and almost everybody else) lost political access, both due to the seclusion of the talks and the decision to keep the negotiation teams intentionally – and for good reasons – small. But even small teams need diversity, through the inclusion of vocal and competent women and through input from women’s caucuses. In the case of Colombia, the number of women in the negotiating teams and in the supporting committees did indeed increase over time. Mechanisms were also created to ensure that the negotiating teams received crucial outside input, particularly when discussing victims’ rights and reparations.

Inclusion of women’s rights and concerns in peace processes (as well as those of victims, minorities and vulnerable groups) is, however, a broader issue that goes beyond who gets a seat at the negotiating table. It also includes ensuring that those who have not suffered as much or do not risk to be vulnerable, do not overlook the needs and protections of those who do. In the case of Colombia, for instance, women combatants lost out in the peace process, as they were often not provided the disarmament and reintegration opportunities relevant to their roles as fighters, but were rather expected to return to domestic or other more traditional women’s roles. While women have played a less important role in the actual conflict in Afghanistan, they are affected by the demobilisation of fighters, particularly if many of them come home to a life of un- or underemployment, which raises the risk of domestic violence and greater limitations to their freedom of movement.

Where women in Colombia managed to mobilise and demand a greater role and a clearer voice, women in Afghanistan often fear they will not be able to do the same. Sippi Azerbaijani-Moghaddam warns Afghan women (pp 63-7) that they risk losing important opportunities to help set the agenda, by simply assuming their voices will not be heard: that the Taleban will be unwilling to budge, that their rights will be squandered and that men will be unwilling to support their cause or defend their gains. Instead, she notes, they could work on strategic alliance building and creating a “valid, coherent and representative message on peace.”

Afghan women activists, and their supporters, could thus focus their efforts on multiple fronts: ensuring that there are competent and articulate women at the negotiating table and that they are sufficiently supported in their jobs; ensuring that the negotiating teams and their supporting staff are regularly briefed and lobbied by knowledgeable experts and activists; mobilising communities in support of peace and advocating for their needs; and establishing women not just as a group in need of protections but as vocal advocates and activists for peace in their own right.

The role of the wider civil society

Civil society in Afghanistan is comprised of a wide range of organisations, initiatives and people. Some of it is fairly formalised and organised, for instance in umbrella organisations or networks that make it easier for donors and the Afghan government to consult or partner with them. Suchnetworks include the independent electoral watchdogs FEFA and TEFA and various human rights, anti-corruption and women’s activists’ networks. As a result of these relations, civil society activists are often in competition over the few designated civil society seats in, for instance, key international conferences, government selection panels or the president’s various consultation rounds. On one hand this illustrates that the need for inclusion of a civil society voice, at least at a symbolic level, is often recognised. On the other hand, the actual impact in terms of raising issues or actually shaping the agenda tends to be limited.

The consolidation of civil society organisations as social and political partners has resulted in the creation of a new elite. But there are also other, possibly more grass-roots forms of civil society voice. These include the recent outspoken and issue-based movements, some of which can mobilise enormous crowds, such as the Enlightenment Movement, the Tabassum Movement and more recently the Peace March originating from Helmand (see here and here).

Apart from the formalised civil society groups and the very visible mobilisation of protests, marches and sit-ins, Afghanistan has also always teemed with local initiatives: teachers, doctors and local leaders who lobby both the government and the Taleban to keep schools and clinics in their area open and supplied; elders who mediate local ceasefires or defuse violent conflicts before they escalate. The role of women in such initiatives has often been overlooked, since any examples are usually treated as exceptions to the rule, but there are women doctors, teachers, heads of NGOs, MPs and provincial council members of great initiative and bravery. It is crucial that such people, who are at the forefront of every-day peace negotiations, feel that a possible peace process will also incorporate their concerns and realities.

Although it is not clear what possible talks would focus on and to what extent they would go beyond a simple exploration of what the Taleban would need to agree to stop fighting, between the lines discussions will always touch on the differing views that exist within Afghan society on modernisation, internationally agreed principles, economic models and the shape of the state. These are issues that clearly transcend a conversation between only the government and the Taleban.

The more transparent the process is, in terms of its modality, agenda and progress, the more the different constituencies will be able to articulate and develop their positions, including possibly a clear peace agenda. The various groups – political parties, women’s rights and human rights activists, tribal councils, groups representing minorities such as the Baloch or the Sikhs, media institutions, ulema councils, think tanks, business associations – can speak for themselves. But they can also engage in coalition-building and consultation. They can seek to ensure that the various angles to the war – including the different experiences of conflict-affected rural areas, cities hit by terrorist attacks, refugee and IDP populations and those who fear their rights and interests will be forgotten – are heard and listened to. This is not just a matter of fairness, but also to avoid new patterns of exclusion, marginalisation and disaffection.

The ‘difficult subjects’: transitional justice and crime

In the Colombian process, the discussions around how to deal with victims’ rights and the legacies of the conflict wereamong the most complex and contentious, and often held up the negotiations for months. Ana María Ibáñez, an academic and expert in the economic effects of internal conflict summarised the problem by saying, “The FARC were not willing to be prosecuted and a large percentage of Colombian society was not willing to forgive the crimes that the FARC had committed [during] more than 50 years.”

The mechanism that was finally negotiated was based on the particulars of the Colombian conflict and what the two parties could agree on. It was described as the first Latin American peace agreement that did not involve a blanket amnesty and that, according to the peace agreement, “placed special emphasis on restorative and reparative measures.” (10) The negotiating teams argued that the mechanism focused on victims’ rights, but opponents of the deal did not see it that way. Many of those who voted “No” in the national referendum opposed the idea that FARC fighters who had committed crimes would avoid jail time. Human Rights Watch criticised the fact that war criminals could escape meaningful punishment through a vague definition of “command responsibility.” Even President Santos told the BBC that he would have liked to see longer jail terms for the guerrilla commanders, but his instructions to the negotiators, he said, had been to “seek the maximum justice that will allow us peace.” In that respect he considered this a good deal.

The Colombian case illustrates how fragile a “good deal” can be and how important it is to ensure that those who are wary of a peace agreement are not only heard and represented, but also feel that their interests have been taken into account, their rights are secured and justice has been done. This includes the vocal political and civil society elites, but also the large number of victims’ who desire both peace and justice. In Afghanistan there are similar concerns: that a peace agreement with the Taleban, particularly a hasty one, would result in a crude power sharing deal that would further undermine the principles of rule of law, accountability and justice, and possibly not even bring peace.

With that in mind, one of Colombia’s important lessons is that whatever agreement is reached in Afghanistan, it needs to be negotiated with as much patience, determination and good faith as can be mustered. It is difficult to envisage such a process without some form of third-party involvement (or fourth-party involvement, given the three-way nature of the current exploratory talks).

 

 

(1) For further reading on the Colombian conflict and peace agreement: Institute for Integrated Transitions (IFIT), The Colombian Peace Talks. Practical Lessons for Negotiators Worldwide, September 2018; Renata Segura & Delphine Mechoulan, Made in Havana: How Colombia and the FARC Decided to End the War, International Peace Institute, February 2017; Virginia M. Bouvier,Gender and the Role of Women in Colombia’s Peace Process, UN Women Background Paper, 4 March 2016; Silke Pfeiffer, Peace Infrastructure in Colombia, Berghof Foundation, 2014;

Jim Wyss, The winding, secret negotiations that led to Colombia’s peace talks, Miami Herald, 23 Sept 2016; interview with Dag Nylander, CBC Radio, 21 Sept 2016.

(2) FARC stands for the party’s Spanish initials. It is officially called the FARC-EP: Fuerzas Armadas Revolucionarias de Colombia–Ejército del Pueblo, or Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia – the People’s Army.

(3) General John Nicholson said, during this press conference: “I call this talking and fighting. As the SECDEF [Secretary of Defence] has said, violence and progress can coexist, and that’s what we’re seeing. We’ve seen this in other conflicts, such as Colombia, where the two sides were talking about peace at the same time that they were fighting each other on the battlefield (…) [this is] common to many–the stages of many conflicts. Colombia is the most recent example where, as the negotiating teams from each side were meeting–I should point out they met in secret, this is how they were able to advance the talks.”

(4) Transitional justice processes focus on how to deal with the legacies of past human rights violations and war crimes after conflict and tend to include – at least some of – the following mechanisms: documentation and truth-seeking; recognition of victims’ suffering; symbolic acts such as memorialisation; reparations; and accountability.

(5) In a process that sounds very familiar to those following Afghan politics, the Colombian peace agreement included the establishment of an Electoral Reform Commission to tackle electoral fraud and regulate the inclusion of former fighters in the electoral process. The agreement had, however, not clarified what electoral reform should look like. In the end, President Santos hired an independent Special Electoral Mission made up of international experts to ensure that a new electoral law was drafted in time for the elections (more details here).

(6) President Ghani has recently appointed a peace negotiation team and overhauled the leadership of the High Peace Council, in preparation for bilateral talks with the Taleban, but several political parties are questioning their mandate and ability to conduct the talks. Three parties that are formally part of the government but often act in opposition – Jamiat-e Islami, Junbesh-e Melli and Hezb-e Islami – have appointed their own seven-member negotiating team in response, they say, to the Taleban’s unwillingness to engage with the government. Jamiat has, moreover, proposed an alternative peace plan that involves five delegations – the government, the [old anti-communist] resistance, political parties, civil society organisations and the Taleban) – instead of bilateral talks.

(7) In a recent document called Achieving Peace: The Next Chapter in the Afghan-Led Peace Plan, President Ghani presented five announcements, alongside four tenets. One of the five “announcements” included a – presumably unilaterally designed – five phase plan that involved, sequentially: an intra-Afghan dialogue, discussions with the US and Pakistan, regional actors, the Arab-Islamic world and finally NATO and non-NATO countries – with presumably the Afghan government as the convener of all discussions. It was unclear from the released summary what the subject of the various concentric discussions would be and whether they would be before, after or during possible intra-Afghan peace talks (the term “dialogue” in this respect is unclear). For AAN’s earlier discussion of Ghani’s latest peace proposal, see here.

(8) The existence of diverging views within the Taleban movement is illustrated in the interviews with representatives of five different Taleban ‘caucuses’ described in this recent ACCORD report. The report notes:

[T]here are different voices within the Taleban. Those featured in the report may be critical of their own leadership, but, it should be noted, they are even more scathing about the Kabul government, complaining about corruption, the “criminals in power” and government forces who they allege sell their weapons to the insurgents and do not come to the aid of their comrades. These Taleban are not interested in surrender or coming over to Kabul, but they are interested in ending the conflict. It is also interesting that they talk about jobs, representation, power in Kabul and the districts, and the influence of Pakistan – all very normal concerns for Afghans generally.

(9) Principles for peace are usually formulated around a commitment to (aspire to) non-violent, democratic and peaceful means to resolve political issues. They were first used in Northern Irelandand are sometimes referred to as the Mitchell principles. For more details, see Colin Knox and Padraic Quirk, Peacebuilding in Northern Ireland, Israel and South Africa, London: Palgrave Macmillan,2000, p 39. For a brief discussion on what this could look like in Afghanistan see this 2017 ACCORD report by Anna Larson (Processing Peace in Afghanistan, p 19).Particularly relevant is the fact that such principles can help “shift discussions away from the idea of a trade-off and towards the achievement of human dignity and conflict transformation.”

(10) Under Colombia’s transitional justice mechanism, perpetrators who cooperated could expect alternative sentences, such as confinement to a community area to work as volunteers as a form of reparation to their victims. There were a few qualifying conditions for leniency: the fighters had to acknowledge their deeds and be willing to offer reparations; crimes perpetrated for “enrichment” were not eligible (this included those involved in the so-called “false positives” scandal where the army had executed up to 3,000 innocent citizens, claiming they were rebel fighters, as part of the government’s “cash-for-kills” policy; see for instance here). Drug crimes were to be viewed on case-by-case basis, to see whether they had been done for personal enrichment or to fund the cause.

The mechanism is overseen by a Special Jurisdiction for Peace (SJP), which consists of a main Peace Tribunal, three smaller chambers and an investigative unit. Cases of cooperating defendants proceed through the three chambers: first the Truth and Reconciliation Chamber where they can confess to their victims, then the Amnesty and Pardon Chamber where the judges decide which of the crimes qualify for pardon and which are to be sentenced, and finally the Sentencing Chamber. If the defendant does not acknowledge his or her crimes, the case will be taken up by the court’s Investigative Unit (more details here).

Defendants who admit their crimes will serve between five to eight years of an alternative sentence if the crime is serious, and between two to five years if the crime is not. Alternative sentences, possibly with reparations, are to be decided in agreement with the victims and can include house arrest and/or community service (such as the removal of mines and explosives; finding, identifying, and returning the remains of people who went missing during the conflict; judicial mechanisms to break apart criminal organizations; or the restitution of land titles). Defendants who are found guilty but who did not take responsibility for the crime face sentences of 15-20 years in a regular prison. Those guilty of political crimes (eg rebellion against the state) or illegal weapons possession, are eligible for a pardon.

The biggest group of defendants are former FARC guerrillas. The rebels turned in a list of 7000 names in December 2016 and in the summer of 2018 close to 5000 ex-fighters had submitted confessions to the court for review. Members of right-wing paramilitary groups can also be tried for crimes committed during the armed conflict, as can members of the armed forces. The Defence Ministry has turned in a list of almost 2000 names, 90 per cent of which were involved in “deaths presented illegitimately as combat deaths.” Civilians and public officials who benefitted from the conflict or cooperated with the guerrillas in some way can voluntarily submit themselves to the court, but cannot be indicted by the state.

The peace agreement provides for the court to be in operation for 15 years, with a possible five-year extension. The tribunal’s original executive estimated that the court would only be able to investigate 1,000 crimes. “Transitional justice, by definition, is modest,” he said in March 2018, “because we already know we can’t do everything.”

 

Yahyakhel district in Paktika province was once as pro-Taleban as it is now pro-government. The turning point came in 2011/2012, with the formation of a tribal militia, which was soon formalised into an Afghan Local Police (ALP) unit. Unlike many other ALP units, it has enjoyed local popular support and control. It has not abused the population and managed, largely, to protect them from Taleban attack. AAN’s Fazal Muzhary and Kate Clark have been looking at why and how Yahyakhel has bucked the trend and what that says about the community defence force model, even in what many consider the Taleban ‘heartland’.

Fazal Muzhary made five trips to Paktika in June 2016 and 2017 to carry out research for this publication and made follow-up phone calls from Kabul. He interviewed three local journalists, three tribal elders (none directly involved in setting up the ALP), a civil society activist who was involved in setting up the tribal militia, an ALP commander and three businessmen. He also spoke to two of Paktika’s MPs and cross-checked details and information with a UNAMA analyst. Most of the interviews were face-to-face. Not everyone wanted to be named.

This dispatch is published as part of a joint three-year project (funded by the Netherlands Research Organisation) by AAN, the Global Public Policy institute (GPPi) and the American University of Iraq, Sulaimani exploring the role and impact of militias, local or regional defence forces and other quasi-state forces in Afghanistan, Iraq and Syria.

The surprising turn-about in Yahyakhel

In 2010, “Yahya Khel largely belonged to the insurgents,” wrote an American anthropologist embedded with United States forces. (1) Taleban operated openly and Yahyakhel was a prominent transit point for Taleban weapons and fighters. Locals said security incidents were so routine that shops and businesses remained shut half the day and schools were closed. RAND scholar Linda Robinson noted that fighting in Yahyakhel was “so fierce” that the conventional US military unit stationed there was pulled out in 2011. (2) Then the situation flipped. From being in the top third of the most violent districts in 2012, it is now in the bottom third of the least violent, according to security statistics. (3) Schools and businesses are no longer shuttered. While the Taliban are dominant in much of the rest of Paktika, in Yahyakhel, pro-government forces have managed to protect both population and territory.

Locals point to their ALP unit as the reason for this change of circumstances. This is surprising given the reputation of the ALP as a whole and particularly in Paktika. The Afghan Local Police were borne out of a 2009 US Special Forces initiative to mobilise local community and tribal forces to substitute for what the US military considered were failing government forces and to try and marshal communities against the Taleban. However, as the programme expanded nationwide, ALP units were frequently captured by local powerbrokers and/or local ethnic, tribal or factional interests. Many have had a record of predatory and abusive behaviour against local population. Even internal US Special Forces assessments suggested that, at best, only a third of the ALP units were successful in countering the Taleban, a third were useless or indifferent and a third counter-productive – for instance, where their criminal, factional, or abusive behaviour pushed communities toward rather than against the Taleban (see this backgrounder for a review of research on ALP and similar local defence forces since 2001.

The ALP in Paktika exemplified complaints that the programme empowered unruly militias rather than protective community forces. The man in charge of the ALP at provincial level when the Yahyakhel ALP was set up, Azizullah, had previously commanded one of the most notorious CIA auxiliary forces in Afghanistan, the Afghan Security Guards. He was a committed fighter against the Taleban, but also accused by the United Nations and others of extrajudicial killings, detention abuses, sexual assault and extortion. Robertson reported Azizullah visiting and advising the Yahyakhel ALP in its early days. (4)

The success of the ALP, which was essentially a US-driven local mobilisation programme, is all the more surprising given that the Taleban insurgency in Yahyakhel initially grew out of a community backlash against those very same international forces. A spate of US night raids and detention operations from 2004 to 2006 targeting key religious figures in the community generated the first Taleban recruits and created fallow ground for the movement to galvanise popular support. The fact that the community would then place any trust and community support in an initiative promoted by the same international forces is, at the least, unexpected.

Yahyakhel is one of the few examples of an outstanding ALP unit and, moreover, one that emerged out of less-than-promising circumstances. AAN’s investigation into what happened in Yahyakhel to turn the situation around says much about the nature of Taleban support and control. Even in a region that could be framed as the movement’s natural ‘heartland’, community support proved neither inevitable nor unassailable. However, the Yahyakhel experience also points to particular factors which made ALP success possible there. Those factors do not exist in every district. Nor are they possible to reproduce.

Background to Yahyakhel – a persistently peaceful district, until recently

Yahyakhel is a small district, one of 19 in Paktika, unremarkable except for two factors. First, it sits along what became a major supply route into and out of South Waziristan in Pakistan’s Federally Administrated Tribal Areas (FATA) of Pakistan for the mujahedin in the 1980s and then the Taleban in the 2000s. Both have used it to ferry men and materiel in from Pakistan and on to Ghazni and central Afghanistan. Second, unlike much or even most of Afghanistan, it largely escaped conflict for decades – from 1978 until about 2004. During the fight against the Soviet army, mujahedin control of the road to the provincial capital, Sharana, prevented government troops from reaching Yahyakhel. (5) After the Soviets left and intra-mujahedin fighting broke out in many parts of the country, including in other districts of Paktika, Yahyakhel was again spared. Although people in the district are divided into three tribes, the Sultankhel, Yahyakhel and Ghaibikhel, as UNHCR wrote in 1989 it was the “strength of local tribal relations” that prevented internecine bloodshed. According to Paktika MP Nader Khan Katawazi, the two main factions in the district, Mahaz-e Melli led by Pir Gailani and Harakat-e Enqelab-e Islami led by Muhammad Nabi Muhammadi, “lacked active fighters” and co-existed relatively peacefully. This was in contrast with, for example, Hezb-e Islami and Jamiat-e Islami which fought each other in Gomal district to the south. In 1994, the transition to Taleban control was almost bloodless, (6) as was the Taleban’s fall from power in 2001. (7)

This long period of peace left a lasting legacy. Unlike most other areas of Afghanistan where traditional social structures have been changed and damaged by war, displacement, mobilisation and assassination, the tribal structure in Yahyakhel has remained intact and resilient. It still has the capacity to assert itself to protect community interests, and to govern effectively. This would prove an important asset in the later development of the ALP, although it first proved a boon to the Taleban.

The Taleban mobilise in Yahyakhel

Interviewees told AAN it was not until early 2003 that the Afghan government got round to appointing officials to the district. By this time, the Taleban had already started organising, taking advantage of the vacuum in authority. However, local residents said that, while Taleban fighters had free movement in the district, they did not threaten security. US forces arriving in summer 2004, according to a member of that force, Lieutenant Robert Anders, (8) who reported that local people were “excited” about the forthcoming presidential elections and said that security was “very good.” Anders said that American soldiers were deployed to Yahyakhel only “to support the security of the voter registration process” ahead of the elections that autumn. However, they appear to have embraced the much wider mandate of trying to wipe out what they perceived to be the local Taleban network. In what Anders described as “bloody October,” US forces launched night raids and arrests in the district, arresting a prominent mullah and a number of other locals.

The spate of night raids and attacks would continue for two years and dramatically reshape security dynamics in the district (see a list of the major raids between 2004 and 2006 in footnote 9). While Anders argued that the raids left the Taleban in Yahyakhel in “disarray” and “scrambling to reorganise,” locals say this was the point when the Taleban emerged as an active military force in the district. It is possible that the stepped-up US presence and raids simply provided Taleban already present in the district with meaningful targets, motivating more Taleban attacks and activities. However, locals say the night raids and attacks galvanised opposition not only among local people generally, but among religious figures in particular. The attacks, which frequently targeted madrassas and mullahs, spread fear among the religious community that they were under attack. Taleban recruitment was boosted. Locals also said that after the night raids, people in general considered the Americans to be invaders and that this hostility extended to their allies, the Afghan National Security Forces (ANSF), both police and army.

These comments suggest that a collective sense of being under attack led the population to more fully embrace the Taleban. One civil society activist said people welcomed Taleban fighters into their homes during this period, even slaughtering sheep in their honour – a sign of great respect. “People strongly supported the Taleban,” the civil society activist said. “No one from this district was working in government employment. They had no problem getting locals to host them.”

One of those taking up the Taleban cause, according to multiple sources, was a young man by the name of Qudrat. His story says something about the importance of individuals in Afghanistan’s war. Qudrat was from Yahyakhel, but had been studying in a madrassa in Sharana when the campaign of night raids began in Yahyakhel. Fearing the violence might be extended to all religious figures, he fled to Pakistan. While there, Qudrat came into contact with Taleban fighters and when he returned to his home district, it was as an insurgent. He was briefly arrested and detained at Bagram. When released in approximately 2009, he was given command of his own group because of his reputation as a fierce fighter.

The key to Qudrat’s power lay not only in his fearlessness in the face of foreign soldiers, but also in his respect for the community and the pragmatism with which he dealt with his Afghan enemies. Interviewees mentioned that in his first year as a commander Qudrat was harsh towards Afghan soldiers and policemen, but then changed his mind; he told his fighters not to kill them because their main target should be American soldiers. Interviewees also said he did not kill anyone on suspicion of spying and granted amnesties to those who left the ANSF. When local residents asked him not to stage attacks from civilian houses – which put them at risk of being targeted – he stopped doing so. Community trust in Qudrat was so high that he felt no need to mask his face when moving around the district: he trusted that locals would not report him.

It was this local support that made the Taleban so strong in Yahyakhel. Community backing enabled Taleban fighters to carry out numerous attacks on the convoys of Afghan and American soldiers moving to Yahyakhel or on to neighbouring Khairkot district. The degree of support and cooperation was so high that one local journalist described how Taleban taking part in attacks would park their motorbikes and give the keys to local people asking them to take the bikes home. Taleban could then escape on foot, returning to collect the bikes, sometimes weeks later.

However, the mutual respect between Taleban and the community was not to last. Qudrat was targeted and killed in an airstrike in 2011. Two lower-level commanders named Omar and Qader, who were also both former madrassa students, succeeded him. They showed far less enlightened leadership. They started using civilian houses to attack government and international forces, harassing or showing indifference to locals’ requests to stop this practice, and killed two former policemen whom Qudrat had given amnesties. Locals said that Taleban at this time even engaged in what they described as “immoral activities.” The tipping point came when the insurgent leaders threatened 170 local people, among them 70 tribal elders. They accused them of spying for the government and ordered them out of the district. By expelling these elders, Omar and Qader created the nucleus of a counter-insurgent force.

Counter-insurgency and the rise of the ALP

Locals interviewed said the Taleban were expelled from the entire district on a single day in September 2011 after a small tribal militia was raised and, together with Afghan government and US Special Forces, attacked Taleban positions. The prompt to action had come, MP Nader Khan said, when President Hamid Karzai visited Paktika in summer 2011 and taunted the expelled elders as to why they had taken no action to get their district back. One of them, Nur Muhammad, was spurred to action. He consulted the local Afghan National Army commander and other officials, and US special forces on organising a counter-force against the Taleban and helped organise the recruitment and US training of fifty militiamen. According to local accounts, for an entire night and day, this tribal militia, backed by Afghan and American soldiers and air support, fought the Taleban. By evening, they had cleared the district of insurgents. The militiamen then started setting up posts. The following week, Nur Muhammad and his men went from house to house, asking residents to join and/or support their militia. The community did so. The number of what was officially re-hatted as ALP in late 2011 had swollen to 300 by the spring of 2012. This ALP force was intentionally drawn from all three main tribes in the area equally.

According to residents, security in Yahyakhel improved rapidly thereafter. The bazaar opened fully and government forces were able to drive through Yahyakhel to Khairkot district where American forces had a military base. Local people also started to seek government jobs, including with the Afghan National Police (ANP). Yahyakhel’s high school opened in spring 2012, along with a couple of other schools which had been closed when the Taleban were in control. (All the schools in the district are for boys, then and now.)

Accounts by two US observers (10) put a longer timeline on the establishment of the community defence force and do not mention any tribal militia; indeed, one of them, Linda Robinson, says “…the Afghans were at odds over who should lead [the ALP], with their choices reflecting rivalries among the three subtribes in the area.” (p188) Rather, the US observers suggest a slow build of ALP and popular resistance from November 2011 to May 2012with Robinson suggesting the ultimate catalysis for ‘flipping’ Yahyakhel was a Taleban attack on the bazaar on 10 May 2012, during which, she says, the newly-formed ALP saved local children from harm (p189). Robinson also describes security improving much more slowly. (11) Despite the discrepancies, both local and international accounts offer a similar overarching narrative: that the mobilisation of the ALP secured what would become a decisive and enduring turn against the Taleban. That transformation has held to the present.

Locals argue that, because the Taleban had been beaten so badly and driven from the district, it was difficult for them to re-group and win back territory. The Taleban made some attempts to woo the ALP back over, AAN was told, encouraging them to re-join the jihad against the ‘real enemies’ — the Americans — and then sending letters containing death threats. However, with no territorial control, they could do little more. In a district which no longer had safe houses and where the enemy knew the terrain as intimately as the insurgents, it was immensely difficult for them to ambush convoys or launch operations, let alone to then escape.

Without such community support, Taleban warfare became largely restricted to laying IEDs, launching ‘green-on-green’ insider attacks (as with a March 2012 attack which killed nine ALP), and suicide attacks (including the May 2012 attack on the bazaar and a September 2013 on district headquarters). The most notorious of these attacks came on 23 November 2014 when a suicide bomber blew himself up at a volleyball match in Paraw village in the Ghaibikhel area. Paraw was known as an ALP hub and it could have been assumed that, along with ALP, family members, guests and friends would also have been present. Indeed, the attack not only killed two ALP commanders and ten ALP policemen, but also 53 civilians, including 21 children. A further 85 civilians were wounded, among them 26 children. “Ball bearings,” said UNAMA, “had been attached to the explosives load for the purpose of maximizing harm.” The Taleban officially condemned the attack, but a pro-Taleban website provided an apologist account with a detailed justification.

The prevalence of such indiscriminate targeting in a local, previously Taleban-leaning community illustrates the significance of the changed dynamics in Yahyakhel. First, the use of suicide attacks indicates how seriously the Taliban took the ALP threat. Suicide attacks are relatively costly to carry out because they need specially selected and trained individuals, reconnaissance and other specialist resources. In addition, even if they have military targets, suicide attacks typically kill large numbers of civilians. The Taleban usually deploy them only in large city centres where such ‘spectaculars’ generate terror in the (rarely Taleban-supporting) urban population, putting pressure on the government and gain media coverage. They have been far more unusual in rural communities like Yahyakhel, with the exception of attacks on the ALP, particularly in the first years after they were set up (for detail see AAN’s “Enemy Number One: How the Taleban deal with the ALP and uprising groups”. The fact that the Taleban deployed suicide attacks against the ALP in Yahyakhel and elsewhere is a sign of the bitter enmity they bore this ‘community defence force’ that had mobilised from among people the Taleban considered their own. Second, these attacks were also significant because they tended to reinforce the reversal in community support against the Taleban. For locals, it seemed that the Taleban now considered the whole populationtheir enemy. This may help explain why the transformation of Yahyakhel from pro-Taleban to pro-government has lasted.

An enduring pocket of stability

As a result of the change in dynamics in 2011, Yahyakhel is now an island of relative stability and pro-government control in a province where most of the districts are either in firm Taleban control or are sharply contested. Local businessmen and school-teachers speaking to AAN described life in Yahyakhel as “normal” for daily business. Several residents of Yahyakhel said the situation was very good and residents were happy. The Yahyakhel ALP has reinforced its gains over time. By improving people’s security and respecting local civilians, communal backing has been strengthened further.

One recent measure of security in Yahyakhel is that it was one of the districts in Paktika where parliamentary elections were held and went smoothly. Turn-out was estimated at 17.5 per cent by civil society observers, with women as well as men participating, “in considerable numbers,” one local journalist reported to AAN. Candidates’ observers were also able to monitor the poll in the district. (See AAN analysis.)

The main security force in Yahyakhel is still the ALP – interviewees said it is active all over the district and is the main provider of security. However, the general pro-government tilt of the district has led to a willingness to engage with other parts of the Afghan government and security institutions, at least to a limited degree. The ANP are present in the district headquarters and are involved in civilian policing and some limited resolution of disputes, for example, over business or land. “If people have any problems,” said one businessman Haji Qader, “they go to the district centre and the ANP will resolve their disputes.” Apart from the ALP, the government is not particularly present, but its distance may also suit the people of this independently-minded district, with a preference for local people policing their own territory. The limited government presence also means that opportunities for graft and friction from government officials are minimised.

According to ALP commander Salaam, the insurgents control only a very small piece of territory in the district – two villages, Wrabani and Asghar, in a remote area bordering Omna district. He said the Taleban have no freedom of movement in the district apart from there and in the Atta Khuna desert, which borders the Mutakhel area of the district. From their strongholds, they can still, very occasionally, stage attacks. For example, a rare, recent attack, took place on 25 February 2018 when interviewees reported explosives mounted in a motorbike detonated in the crowded bazaar, killing a policeman and three children and wounding 16 others (no-one claimed responsibility for this attack, although, again, the Taleban seem the most likely perpetrators). Generally, however, the Taleban have had trouble launching operations in Yahyakhel because they have remained almost completely pushed out of the district.

Analysis of the ingredients for success: mobilisation

Framed in the logic of the ALP, Yahyakhel appears a resounding success story for the counter-insurgency – not only an important instance of shutting down Taleban access to a key part of their supply route, but an example of the logic of local force mobilisation working. Looking at the reasons for its success, however, it is clear their absence may also be behind the failure of the ALP elsewhere.

The ALP experience in Yahyakhel (as also in Shajoy in Zabul) and Andar district of Ghazni province) shows, yet again, that community support cannot be assumed by any party, neither the Taleban nor the government. In this case, although the Taleban did not know it (and nor did anyone else), community support was up for grabs, given the right circumstances.

As to what those circumstances were, both international and local accounts recognise that the US Special Forces and the tribes each had a role to play in the creation of the local defence force, but differ in how much weight they give each party and who was the catalyst. The US accounts treat the US Special Forces’ role as decisive and make no mention of the tribal uprising or of any indigenous desire for change. Certainly American and Afghan government support was significant for training and supporting the counter-insurgents. However, the idea that the initiative and drive for this enduring turn to government support could have come from forces whom locals saw as hostile invaders is hard to swallow. It is already difficult to understand how the US association alone did not turn local people against the emerging ALP force.

Instead, the local narrative holds more traction: locals supported the ALP because they had come to fear and dislike the Taleban and despite, not because of American support or government instigation.As one of the local journalists recounted: “People had become fed up with the Taleban. This unhappiness changed their thinking. They started hating the Taleban instead of the Americans.” He said the same cause was behind people’s reassessment of the government, even though its record was also dire: “The Afghan government hadn’t done anything in terms of reconstruction or positively contributing to the lives of local people. Misbehaviour by the Taleban towards local people just resulted in them seeing the government as a better alternative.”The Taleban’s expulsion of 70 tribal leaders does seem significant. This created a coherent, socially powerful group which opposed the Taleban and which was able to organise against the movement.

The key element appears to be that local tribal structures were still relatively intact. Even if, as according to the US Special Forces’ account, the self-defence force was not a local initiative but the result of outside persuasion, the US forces would have found unusually favourable ground; in Yahyakhel, the community, when provoked, was strong enough to mobilise a response. Yahyakhel’s unusual circumstances, its long history of escaping conflict from 1978 to 2004, meant that unlike most other places, the old elites and social structures there had not pushed out of the way by the new commander class. In Yahyakhel, neither the tanzims (political-military, mainly former mujahedin, factions) nor commanders are very important. Another group often significant to current security dynamics because they are more likely to support the Taleban than other Afghans is also comparatively weak in Yahyakhel and for the same reason. Because of the dominant tribal structures, mullahs are comparably weak in this district.

Thus, the strong, relatively healthy (and population-motivated) tribal structure in Yahyakhel as well as the absence of other potentially negative forces created the right ingredients for a community defence force to emerge. In 2011, as the Taleban became abusive and deaf to locals’ complaints, the tribal system in Yahyakhel was still resilient enough to provide a strong framework for organising a community militia. This was particularly so given the arbaki tradition native to this part of Afghanistan (12). When the Taleban expelled the group of 70 plus elders, they created a nucleus of angry opponents who were able to leverage those community structures into meaningful rebellion.

While these structural factors appear most significant, the experience in Yahyakhel also points to the role played by particular leaders or personalities. Even with all the preconditions there, it is unlikely that Yahyakhel would have shifted to the government during the period of Qudrat’s control – he was popular, in tune with local dynamics, and able to win and maintain popular support for the Taleban. Certain individuals also played a role in eventually reversing that support, with tribal leaders like Nur Muhammad demonstrating an ability not only mobilise tribal forces, but to do so in a way that was cohesive and inclusive. This illustrates the key role charismatic individuals often play, on both sides (see for example, Haji Gul Agha in Shajoy district, Zabul province, who turned the ALP round from abusive militia to a force which defended the community).

One other thing to stress is that the Yahyakhel ALP is a genuine community defence force. This differs from the much more common pattern, of ALP units presented as representing ‘the community’ when a little digging revealed this to be false, often egregiously so. Instead, their capture by factional, criminal, ethnic or tribal interests or by strongmen inevitably undermines the prospect for genuine community support and may provoke local conflict and facilitate abuses of the population. Such co-option of the ALP has also undermined the idea of community defence forces and tarnished the reputation of the ALP nationally. (For examples of ALP units presented as representing their communities which were not, see AAN case studies of Shajoy in Zabul, Andar in Ghazni, and Gizab and Khas Uruzgan districts in Uruzgan province (see here and here, especially footnote 3).)

Analysis of the ingredients for success: sustaining a ‘good ALP’

We asked a selection of our interviewees (two of the businessmen, the civil society activist, the three tribal elders, the ALP commander, the three local journalists, MP Katawazi, a Taleban supporter from neighbouring Omna district and a UNAMA analyst) why the ALP had worked in Yahyakhel, in terms of maintaining security for local people and, in contrast to many other ALP units and uprising forces, not abusing or predating upon them (see, for example, Andar district in neighbouring Ghazni province where uprising forces and ALP rapidly drove the Taleban out of much of the district, but then quickly lost what community support they had due to their abusive behaviour). The responses of our interviewees suggest sustained success in Yahyakhel came down to the nature of the community and the way the force emerged out of it in an inclusive, accountable way.

First, they pointed to the local nature of the Yahyakhel ALP. Men are recruited locally and operate in the villages in which they live. There is therefore a strong constraint against them behaving badly towards their own people and a strong urge to protect them. Second, all interviewees pointed to the fact that the ALP has stayed under the control of the tribes. This helped maintain control of the ALP force once it was established and curb unruly behaviour. “All the ALP men,” one of the interviewees told AAN, “are accountable to the elders of the three major tribes. “MP Nader Khan also said that the elders “have considerable control over the ALP men and therefore they cannot do anything wrong.” To give US Special Forces credit, this was how the ALP model was supposed to work – with local ties and loyalties holding forces to account. However, in practice, because of the difficulty of mobilising genuine community forces, together with the pressure to get boots on the ground and the pressure of powerful Afghan politicians keen to subvert the process, this has been the exception rather than the rule with the ALP.

Thirdly, the force was formed in a way that brought all three tribes together equally, working in partnership. A recurrent issue in other districts where ALP have been established is that the force has been monopolised by one ethnic or tribal group, at the expense of others, tending to ignite rather than attenuate local conflicts. In Yahyakhel, however, steps were taken early on – by local actors – to include recruits from each of the three dominant tribes residing in Yahyakhel district, Sultankhel, Ghaibikhel and Yahyakhel. Several tribal elders and those involved in the initial mobilisation described it as a roughly equal split, with each tribe contributing approximately 100 persons to the ALP. One tribal elder said this helped involve all the tribes in the ALP so that no tribe could complain that they were “sidelined.” This approach transformed the situation, he said, because it reduced the risk that inter-tribal rivalries would spur one side to support or join the Taleban.

Conclusion

The ALP in Yahyakhel offers a seductive picture of local force mobilisation. It has been able to hold the district by reducing the Taleban’s ability to move and strike. It also did so quickly – an overnight turnaround by locals’ account – and this transformation has been sustained. From the local perspective it has achieved what has been incredibly rare in a country benighted by violence – dampening the conflict locally, reducing the bloodshed and allowing the population to live in relative peace. The ALP appears to have been able to do this by living up to the model of local self-defence with local buy-in and accountability, marrying security and governance gains.

However, while the Yahyakhel ALP offers a tantalising success story, the explanation of why it has worked also suggests a limited ability to replicate it. Because of its conflict-free history, there was both a strong and coherent community which could organise a local defense force, and an absence of powerful individuals or factions who would seek to co-opt it. While such a social make-up is not unique in Afghanistan, it is in limited supply. The repeated cycles of conflict, factional mobilisation, displacement and the ‘war economy’ have created far more communities dominated by strongmen and tanzimpolitics than by representative community structures.

The ALP also worked in Yahyakhel because the tribal leaders who mobilised the force took a fairly egalitarian and inclusive approach. This may also be more difficult to achieve in the many other communities where a zero sum mentality dominates relations between different tribes, ethnicities, and groups. Lastly, even with all these favourable underlying factors in Yahyakhel, a spark was needed to spur counter-Taleban mobilisation, and that spark came from the Taleban’s misconduct, rather than because of international or Afghan government initiatives. Locals supported the force not because of American or government actions, but because they had come to fear and dislike the Taleban.

The Yahyakhel example stands for the proposition that where community forces work, they can work very, very well. But the reasons why they work and the factors that can lead to their mobilisation lie almost entirely in local structures, politics, and personalities. These local factors are difficult to control or manipulate from the outside. That means that, while a good local force may bring huge counter-insurgency dividends, especially a reduction in violence, international or Afghan actors will be hard-pressed to bring about or spur those gains.

 

 

Edited by Erica Gaston and Sari Kouvo

 

(1) In 2010, Kathleen Reedy, an anthropologist working for the US military’s Human Terrain System (which sought to understand the local population – the ‘human terrain’ – in areas of Afghanistan where the US military was deployed) visited the district and reported that “Yahya Khel largely belonged to the insurgents.” Kathleen Reedy blamed failures in the Afghan government for pushing people into the arms of the Taleban (she did not mention any actions of the US military):

…there were schools and public clinics in the main village, but these were poorly stocked, poorly staffed and closed whenever the insurgents said to close them. Development projects were few and far between. There were regular attacks on the District Centre and most of the population were scared to be seen talking to any American or Afghan officials.

She reported that when locals ‘opened up’ to her, it was not to complain about insurgent intimidation, but the problematic “local politicians.” Talking to the district governor, they said, was as effective as “‘writing their concerns on ice on a hot day.’” Most of the time, she said, he stayed in his compound, rather than going out and interacting with the people he governed. “While he would go out into the bazaar surrounding the District Centre, he only did so when his Coalition Forces counterparts strongly urged him to do so and provided him an escort, nor would he go farther than that.” “[He] did nothing to improve their lot in life, so they had no reason to support him or the government he presented.” Indeed, [the] people of Yahya Khel tacitly offered their support to a political-judicial alternative, namely, the insurgency.”

(2) Linda Robinson, “One Hundred Victories: Special Ops and the Future of American Warfare”, Public Affairs New York, 2013.

(3) We wanted to see if local people’s sense that Yahyakhel had become more peaceful could be backed up statistically and consulted a data base of security incidents (the compilers asked for it not to be named). The ‘security incidents’ here could be could be ground fighting, IEDs detonating or being discovered, targeted killings and ANSF or international military operations, but not criminal activity unless conflict-related. The ‘author’ of the incident, whether insurgent, international military or ANSF is not differentiated. The data base only goes back to 2012, the first year of the ALP, but even so, the trends are interesting. They say something both about improving absolute security in Yahyakhel and its relative security compared to the other 18 districts in Paktika.

Between 2012 and 2017, the number of security incidents in Yahyakhel fell by more than four-fifths, while the number of security incidents for the province as a whole fell by only three-tenths. The trend towards security improving over these years can also be seen by ranking Yahyakhel and looking at the proportion of provincial-wide security incidents it suffered:

2012 Yahyakhel was sixth most violent district (out of 19), with 5.9% of the security incidents recorded in Paktika province as a whole

2013 Eighth most violent district; 4.4% of security incidents

2014 15th most violent district; 3.3% of security incidents

2015 13th most violent district; 2.7% of security incidents

2016 12th most violent district; 3% of security incidents

2017 17th most violent district; 1.6% of security incidents

2018 13th most violent district (along with two others); 1.4% of security incidents

Another way to look at the situation would be to imagine if security incidents were distributed equitably across the province; each district would then receive 3.7% of the attacks. Looked at this way, Yahyakhel went from having more attacks than the mean in the years up to 2013, to fewer since 2014

(4) Since the earliest days of the US intervention, Azizullah had been in charge of one of the so-called ‘campaign forces’ in Paktika – covert CIA or US Special Forces-run auxiliary forces that generally enjoyed a reputation for unaccountable behaviour. He was accused of carrying out or having command responsibility for extrajudicial killings and detentions, sexually assaulting young boys, looting and extortion. (For detail, see Julius Cavendish, “Afghanistan’s Dirty War: Why the Most Feared Man in Bermal District Is a US Ally,” TIME, 4 October 2010, and Human Rights Watch, “‘Today We Shall All Die’: Afghanistan’s Strongmen and the Legacy of Impunity,” 3 March 2015, at pp31-39.)

Robinson (see footnote 2) who visited Yahyakhel in March 2012, the month the ALP was hit by an insider attack, reported Azizullah coming to the district: “At the provincial police chief’s request, Aziz stayed on for several days [after the insider attack] to provide additional security and participate in meetings with the elders. Aziz left behind a squad of his own men to work with the team as they sought to find a new commander and shore up the shaky morale.” (p189) Robertson refers to Azizullah as a commander with “the campaign forces.” According to AAN reporting, at the time, however, he had “recently” been appointed head of the provincial ALP (See Kate Clark, “CIA-proxy militias, CIA-drones in Afghanistan: “Hunt and kill” déjà vu”, 26 October 2017. It is possible he may have been wearing two ‘hats’.

Azizullah was killed by the Taleban on 28 June 2018.

(5) Government forces were not able to reach the district, said UNHCR, as the road to Sharana, the provincial capital, was blocked by the forces of Qasim Akhundzada, an Ettehad-e Islami (Sayyaf) commander. Mostly, the district was used by the mujahedin as a supply route, leading it to develop into a thriving commercial centre and staging post

(6) A local journalist described how the Taleban, then a relatively-unknown, new armed group, came to the district in 1994, saying they had come in the name of Islam. They first introduced themselves to the elders and influential religious leaders who welcomed them, and that stopped others resisting. The fact that two of the most influential factions in Paktika, Harakat-e Enqelab (the Nasrullah Mansur wing) and Hezb-e Islami Khales (and its regionally influential commander, Jalaluddin Haqqani) had both received the Taleban movement favourably – and joined their forces to it – also helped win over the residents of the province to the new group. Only one Hezb-e Islami commander in the province, Khaled Faruqi, a brother-in-law of Gulbuddin Hekmatyar, in the Charbaran area of neighbouring Omna district, opposed the Taleban takeover, but he was defeated in a day’s fighting.

(7) In 2001, the transition was without bloodshed. Tribal elders told AAN that when the Taleban left the area after their government was toppled, they themselves took control of the district centre. This was the pattern for all of Loya Paktia. (See author’s previous analysis.)

(8) Robert S Anders “Winning Paktika Counterinsurgency in Afghanistan”, Author House, 2013.

(9) Locals named the major raids during this time, as follows. (Their accounts agree on what happened, but are often hazy as to the exact dates of incidents. The authors have added exact dates where the media reported them):

• Around 2004: The first major, well-known raid was on the home of a mullah in Khadala village, Muhammad Yaqub. One local journalist said Yaqub had worked in the Taleban government, although at the time of the raid, he was not an active member of the resurgent Taleban and only joined the insurgency after the raid.
• Around 2005, US soldiers also raided Yaqub’s madrasa, also in Khadala village, with no major casualties reported. A little later, they arrested him and detained him in Bagram for three years. According to a second local journalist, by this stage, Yaqub was still not involved in actual fighting, but was recruiting others to Taleban ranks using his madrassa. Some of Yaqub’s students would go on to become important commanders. They included Omari from Mutakhel village of Yahyakhel, Qader from Ghaibikhel and Asadullah Khanjari from the Segana area of Khairkot district. Yaqub is currently living in Quetta and is one of the key Taleban members from Yahyakhel.
• Around 2005, US soldiers raided the home of another mullah, Asadullah Khadalai, also in Khadala village. He was a respected intellectual and religious figure with many followers in the community. Asadullah had also worked in the Taleban regime, although not in a major position. Many people saw the raid on the house of a respected local figure as a major insult and this considerably magnified the fear among religious people, such as mullahs and madrasa students, that they were being targeted. After the night raid on his house, he joined the Taleban insurgency, becoming shadow provincial governor and later deputy shadow governor for Paktika province.
• Late 2006, US soldiers attacked Asadullah’s madrassa and, AAN was told, killed some pupils, mostly small boys in the lower grades (casualty figures could not be confirmed). The US military told media outlets that al Qaeda members had been visiting the madrasa that day.

(10) The first mention of the creation of an ALP from an American ‘author’ comes from C Lowell Lofdahl, who described himself as working for BAE Systems on information technology, COIN and ‘irregular warfare’ and said he went to a ‘shura’ in November 2011 made up of government officials, ISAF officers from Kabul and local leaders, “who were being asked to support VSO/ALP.” VSO or Village Stability Operations was the name given by the US military to community defence forces which it had stood up; this project turned out to be the pilot for the ALP. The shura involved, he said, “having [sic] the local leaders… stand up and say they were ready to support VSO/ALP by identifying and vouching for local military age males who would be trained to be ALP, with the idea being that even though they wouldn’t be able to fight as well, they could tell who belonged from who didn’t belong, something with which international forces had a tougher time.”

A few months later, in March 2012, RAND scholar Linda Robinson, visited Yahyakhel with a US Special Forces team which, she said, had been the first such team to arrive there in about mid-February 2012. She also describes attending a shura of elders, ANP and the district governor (who did not live in the district but came to work when he thought it was safe enough) which was led by Nur Muhammad. That shura, she said, voted to set up an ALP unit. Three weeks later, in early March, she writes that 174 recruits were chosen, vetted, trained by the US special forces team and graduated in a ceremony in front of senior US commanders and Afghan officials. In mid-March, she said, in a “regular meeting” between US special forces team and Yahyakhel shura, they nominated representatives to deal with government departments and discussed who should command the ALP. By the end of 2012, ‘Western Paktika’, as Robinson described it (it would include Khairkut and Yusufkhel as well) had a total of 511 ALP “which provided an indigenous line of defence separating the bad lands of the border with Pakistan from Highway One [the Kabul to Kandahar highway].” (See “One Hundred Victories”, cited in footnote 2, pp 188-190).

(11) Robinson dates the opening of the bazaar to the coming of the US Special Forces team and their work on setting up the ALP. A sergeant, she wrote “marvelled at how much had changed since the team first visited in Yahya Khel a month before [ie February 2011]. The bazaar had been closed, but now that local police had been nominated and trained, the shops lining the main street were open and bustling…” She also describes Yahyakhel district centre as still coming under fierce insurgent assault in early 2012 – with attacks from four routes – and said the US Special Forces headquarters building in the district centre was attacked repeatedly by Taleban with mortars, rocket-propelled grenades and small-arms. Her account of the continuing menace of IEDs does tally with local memories, however. When she arrived in Yahyakhel in March 2011, she describes the Special Forces driving over fields and irrigation channels – destroying them in the process – rather than use the main road. “[T]he main east-west road,” she wrote, “was a notorious road, seeded with mines that had killed and maimed coalition troops and civilians.”

(12) Historically, arbaki are a Loya Paktian institution, a force that is local, tribal, unpaid, voluntary, non-state and temporary. It is established to help implement the decisions of a jirga, secure the territory of the tribe or community and maintain law and order (see Osman Tariq’s paper “Tribal Security System”. Since locally recruited defence forces were raised outside Loya Paktia, the term has generally become an insult, now generally used by Afghans to refer to undisciplined, abusive, pro-government militias.

 

 

 

 

 

The matter of who governs the district of Obeh in the east of Herat province is complicated: control of the district is divided between the Afghan government and the Taleban, and shifts in unpredictable ways. The inhabitants of the district, usually via the mediation of elders, have had to learn how to deal with both sides. The dual nature of authority in Obeh is exemplified by public service delivery; it is always financed through and administered by the Afghan state but, in areas under Taleban control, it is the insurgents who supervise and monitor delivery. In this, the first of a series of case studies looking at the delivery of services in districts over which the Taleban have control or influence, AAN researcher Said Reza Kazemi investigates the provision of governance and security, education, health, electricity, telecommunications and development projects, and unpacks a dual form of governance.

Service Delivery in Insurgent-Affected Areas is a joint research project by the Afghanistan Analysts Network (AAN) and the United States Institute of Peace (USIP).

For the methodology and literature review, see here.

Obeh district: the context

• Approximately 100 km to the east of Herat city, linked by mainly non-asphalted roads; mountainous, cut through by fertile Harirud River valley
• Population 90,000-180,000 people based on available data; mixed Pashtun and Tajik
• Control of district split and influence of government and Taleban not well demarcated; not actively contested; surrounded by insurgency-plagued districts

Obeh: Service delivery

• Education: boys and girls schools, including high schools, open; no taxation by Taleban, but strict supervision, including of staff hiring, curriculum and girls’ education
• Health: no interference, but medical workers forced to prioritise Taleban sick and wounded, no female doctor working in district
• Electricity, media and telecommunications: no public electricity; no mobile phone coverage at night; mobile phone companies taxed; social networking and Turkish soap operas popular (for those with smartphones, dish antennas and electricity)
• Other services: Taleban courts open and busy; development projects need to be authorised by the Taleban who also ‘tax’ them

Introducing Obeh district 

Obeh’s name says much about its geography and the impact this has had on life there. Obeh means ‘water’ in Pashto and through this mountainous district, with an area of about 2,600 km2, flows and meanders the Harirud – one of the main rivers in Afghanistan, which feeds the gigantic Salma hydropower dam to the east in neighbouring Chesht-e Sharif district. The river is obviously agriculturally significant for cultivated lands and orchards that, in turn, produce gorgeous scenery on both banks and neighbouring areas across Obeh district. (For a map of the district, see page 15 of this atlas). Most of the habitable areas of Obeh are thus in the Harirud valley.

In terms of human geography, the available information on the population of Obeh district is starkly contradictory. According to the Independent Directorate of Local Governance (IDLG) profile of Obeh, the district has an estimated population of 180,000 people (110,000 men and 70,000 women). A recent report by the US Special Inspector General for Afghanistan Reconstruction (SIGAR) puts the population at almost half of that: 94,805 people (see page 223 here). As elsewhere in the country, young people comprise a major segment of the district population – about 70 per cent are under 18. The population live in about 230 villages, mostly near the river, but also in scattered settlements in the more mountainous parts of the district.

The major ethnic groups in Obeh are Pashtuns and Tajiks. The IDLG profile says Pashtuns constitute about 60 per cent of the district population and Tajiks the remaining 40 per cent. However, this is disputed by some Tajiks, at least the ones who spoke to AAN, who claim they make up a larger proportion of the district population. The figures obviously have implications for the ethnic balance of power in the district.

On a provincial level, the population living in Obeh comprise 4.5 per cent of the total population of Herat (this excludes the three districts of Gulran, Shindand and Farsi where Afghanistan’s Central Statistics Organisation (CSO) was not able to conduct its Socio-Demographic and Economic Survey (SDES) due to what it called “security problems”) (see pages 1 and 7 of this report).) Using Afghanistan’s national average household size of 7.7 persons (see page 22 of this survey), Obeh would have 23,377 households (according to IDLG data) and 12,338 households (based on SIGAR information).

Obeh is a centre of Sufism in Afghanistan. The three Sufi tariqas(orders) in the district are Naqshbandiya, Qadiriya and Cheshtiya – the latter because of its adjacency to the epicentre of the Cheshtiya Sufi order in Chesht-e Sharif district. There are families and individuals who are the followers (murids) of Sufi leaders (pirsor murshids). The Sufi leaders are usually large landowners and thus well-off. A famous example is Agha Saheb Mohiuddin who,  following his death, was replaced by his sons, the best-known being Agha Saheb Nuruddin. Sufi get-togethers are held in mosques, including the Grand Mosque in the district centre. In addition, Sufi spiritual retreats have continued taking place in khanqahs (places for Sufi gathering and worship) in the district. They are on good terms both with the government and Taleban.

Obeh is nearly 100 kilometres east of the provincial capital, Herat city. It is bordered by restive districts on all sides but one (for a map of Obeh district neighbourhood, see page 2 of this atlas): Qades district of Badghis province to the north, Chesht-e Sharif district of Herat to the east (currently a safer neighbouring side due to a heavy presence of Afghan government security forces), Farsi district to the south and Pashtun Zarghun and Karukh districts to the west. Given the difficult travelling conditions – not just insurgency but a lack of asphalted roads – Obeh can be described as an ‘outlying district’ of Herat province. A local merchant who runs a business transporting passengers and goods between Obeh and Herat city through Injil and Karukh districts told AAN that vehicles are only able to travel between 14 and 30 kilometres an hour:

The road is in a very poor condition and very uncomfortable. It takes three hours to get to Obeh from Herat city by saracha [a Toyota Corolla-type vehicle], three and a half hours by falankoch[a Toyota HiAce Van-type vehicle] and six to seven hours by freight lorry.

The road leading to Obeh through Karukh continues eastwards on to Ghor province, Hazarajat (the central highlands region) and then on to the capital Kabul. A second road links Obeh to Herat city through Pashtun Zarghun, Guzara and Injil districts. About 130 kilometres long, this road is not asphalted from Obeh to the centre of Pashtun Zarghun district, but its remainder is asphalted. It takes almost the same amount of time travelling on this road between Obeh and Herat city, but it is currently safer than the route through Karukh district, so an increasing number of people are travelling this road, even though parts of it are bumpy.

These factors – rugged terrain, mixed population, far-flung location with low connectivity to the provincial centre and troubled neighbourhood – have contributed, in varying degrees, to growing insecurity in Obeh over the years. Afghan government forces and Taleban insurgents tussle for control, inflicting costs on each other and civilians and hampering the delivery of public services.

Conflict and security

Taleban in Obeh are not a new phenomenon. Their presence dates back to 1995 when the movement took Herat. As elsewhere across the province that year, officials from the mujahedin government fled the approaching Taleban – some to the mountainous parts of the district – and Obeh fell with little to no resistance. A then low-ranking government employee, now in his seventies, told AAN what happened when the Taleban came to power in his district:

The Taleban announced they would be coming to Obeh a day before [they arrived]. Local figures of influence and, of course, government employees like me were afraid of what they would do to us upon their arrival. We took refuge in the khanqahof Agha Saheb Mohiuddin, the pirof Obeh. The Taleban did not ill-treat us. They just came and took control of the government by introducing their district governor and police chief and dismissing the previous government’s employees like me.

Some of the Taleban who ruled Obeh for the next five years or so were locals. However, many, especially the influential ones, hailed from other districts of Herat such as Pashtun Zarghun and Shindand, neighbouring provinces such as Farah, and from further afield, for example, Helmand province. According to a long-time Obeh resident, who is in his sixties and has lived through the past several decades in the district, the key Taleban figures were Mullah Khodadad (their first district governor), Mullah Nik Muhammad (their first police chief), Mullah Esmat and Mullah Qaffar.

The 2001 US military intervention brought the mujahedin back to power in Obeh. The major local Taleban figures in Obeh did not surrender in 2001 and, as a result, several were killed by the mujahedin on the road from Obeh to Pashtun Zarghun district. Their corpses lay on the ground for a couple of days until some local elders stepped in to mediate and arranged for the handover of the bodies for burial to members of the Taleban who came from Shindand. Other local Taleban did surrender and returned to normal civilian life and integrated back into local life in Obeh where they remain till this very day. Others retreated to the mountainous sections of the district.

So, those mujahedin who had sought refuge from the Taleban in the mountains in 1995 suddenly re-gained power in Obeh with the help of the US military. According to the same long-term Obeh resident quoted above, the key local mujahedin figures were: Haji Muhammad Askar (killed in conflict), Mullah Sarwar (worked as a security official for the Afghan government in Badghis province in the post-2001 period, now retired) and Haji Gulbuddin Khan (now retired). They played an important role in picking the first district governor and police chief in post-2001 Obeh, Haji Muhammad Khan (father to the current Obeh police chief, Sher Agha Alokozay) and Haji Muhammad Ghaus (brother to Haji Gulbuddin Khan). These local mujahedin leaders were initially linked to the self-declared ‘amirof the south-western region,’ Ismail Khan, (1) and later to Mawlawi Khodadad Saleh, the local strongman in Obeh. Mawlawi Saleh is currently the influential head of the council of ulama(religious scholars/leaders) in the western region of Afghanistan and leader of the Ghiasiya Seminary – the most important centre of Sunni Islam in Herat and the broader western region. Mawlawi Saleh has been affiliated to and enjoyed the support of both Hamid Karzai and Ashraf Ghani in post-2001 Afghanistan.

The number and activities of the Taleban in Obeh went down significantly for a few years after 2001 only to rise again, particularly during the later years of the second Karzai government and the current National Unity Government. In some isolated, mountainous areas in Obeh, the post-2001 government never had a presence, which left a vacuum for the Taleban to exploit. Those Taleban who took refuge in the mountains began regrouping, initially from their family, kinship and affinity ties and later reconnecting to old and new Taleban allies in other districts of Herat, neighbouring provinces, further away in southern Afghanistan and even beyond, in Pakistan (see the literature review for this research series here). Led especially by Mullah Esmat, they began winning some support among the disgruntled, retaking some areas and challenging the Afghan government. The sentiment of some Obeh residents’ dissatisfaction and disillusionment with the Afghan government is echoed by this respondent:

People are not happy with the government because the government failed to deliver the promises it made to the people. The government promised to disarm irresponsible armed groups, build Herat-Obeh-Chesht-e Sharif road, supply electricity and end corruption. None of these things happened. People are really angry about the unfulfilled promises made by both the Karzai and Ghani governments. So people were and are attracted to the messages sent by the Taleban. The Taleban tell the people that our country has been occupied and colonised by foreign invaders… They tell the people about divisions inside the government and rampant corruption within it.

As the Taleban expanded their presence and influence beyond the mountains into villages and to roads within the district by establishing temporary and even more permanent checkpoints particularly since 2014, they clashed with Afghan government forces  (for example, in May 2018; see also here). The overall result has been mounting insecurity for civilians living in the district and using the roads, especially the two linking Obeh and Herat city, although the district is not actively contested in terms of there being active fronts or ground fighting, as least for the time being. Nevertheless, control is divided and influence not well demarcated. (2)

The Taleban strategy is aimed at expanding their control as close as they can to the district centre. They try to do this by incapacitating the Afghan government through targeting senior district officials such as a former police chief (see here) and shutting down roads with the ultimate aim of capturing the district centre. They have launched an increasing number of attacks on government checkpoints. The last major attack they carried out was on a government checkpoint in Karashk village near Obeh’s border with Pashtun Zarghun district during the night of 9 October 2018. In this attack, the Taleban killed seven police officers, injured three others and captured another four; they also burned down the checkpoint. Attacks that have ended up killing ‘ordinary people’ have provoked some Obeh residents to protest against the Taleban perpetrators. In August 2011, for instance, some Obeh elders demanded the Taleban to hand over their members alleged of conducting two deadly mine attacks that led to the killing and injuring of dozens of civilians (see here and here).

The growing insecurity in Obeh finally made Herat provincial governor, Muhammad Asif Rahimi, visit the district in September 2018; it was his first visit since getting appointed as governor in late 2014. Accompanied by provincial and regional civilian and military authorities including General Nurullah Qaderi, the top government military official for the western region, he flew to Obeh by helicopter, voiced his concern about the district security and listened to demands for boosting Afghan security forces to prevent further Taleban attacks and the fall of the district. Earlier, Obeh district governor, Rahmuddin Sarwarzai, had even called for aerial operations against the Taleban in ‘their’ areas in the district (watch his interview with Ariana TV here).

Governance and security provision

At present, the exercise of control over Obeh district is not static. It changes daily. According to all respondents except one, who is a current Afghan government employee based in Herat city, the Taleban insurgents govern more territory and wield more influence in the district than the Afghan government does. This evaluation somewhat differs from Resolute Support’s most recent assessment, as published by SIGAR. It described Obeh as being under ‘government influence’ (see page 223 here) (one of five categories: under insurgent control, under insurgent influence, neutral/at risk, under government influence and under government control. (3) Although the Afghan state has an administration including a district governor in the centre of Obeh, its adjacent villages and villages in which the state has checkpoints, the rest of the district is either contested by or under the influence or even the control of the insurgents, putting the district somewhere in-between ‘under government influence’ and ‘neutral/at risk’ categories. This indicates some deterioration in governance and security conditions in the district. One interviewee described the fluid, precarious state of who governs Obeh in words that represent the overwhelming majority of respondents:

I cannot definitively say how much of the district is controlled by the government and how much by the Taleban. At night, I can say that 80-90 per cent of the district is in the hands of the Taleban, not the district bazaar or government checkpoints. During the day, it is 50-50, half controlled by the government and half by the Taleban as they move away from the valley to the mountains.

In a very practical sense, there are thus two governments in Obeh district, one representing the de jure Afghan government and the other a de facto administration made up of the Taleban insurgents. For a list of Afghan government and Taleban officials, see footnote 2.

On the side of the Afghan government, all current major district officials such as the governor, police chief, mayor, education director and public health director are ethnic Pashtuns and linked by patron-client ties to Mawlawi Saleh, who himself has enjoyed good relations with both Karzai and Ghani, as referred to above.

According to the IDLG profile of Obeh district and AAN’s interview with the district governor, the Afghan government security forces are about 310-strong and most are Afghan Local Police (ALP):

• Afghan National Army (ANA): 40
• Afghan National Police (ANP): 50
• ALP: 220
• Number of security checkpoints in which they are deployed: 40

Several respondents said there is currently the same number of Taleban operatives in the district (about 300 members). About one-sixth (50 Taleban or so) are from Obeh, with the famous ones being Mullah Esmat (with roots in Gulran district), Mullah Hassan (with roots in Pashtun Zarghun district) and Mullah Zar Alam. The latter two are Eshaqzai Pashtuns who have lived in Obeh for about two and a half decades and are linked by kinship ties to Mullah Nik Muhammad, another Eshaqzai Pashtun, who was the first Taleban district police chief in Obeh in the mid-1990s and has also served as a member of Herat Provincial Council in the post-2001 period.

Most Taleban insurgents operating in Obeh, however, are from outside the district: from Farsi, Pashtun Zarghun and Shindand districts of Herat, neighbouring Badghis province (eg Qades district), Ghor (Chaghcharan) and Farah and even further afield such as Helmand and Kandahar provinces. There is also an estimated 100-strong Taleban ‘Red Unit’ in the district – distinguished, said a respondent, by their red caps (kolah surkha). As for ethnicity, there are more Pashtuns than Tajiks among the Taleban presently operating in the district. In terms of their structure, several respondents said they appear highly disciplined and under hierarchical control. This is how one interviewee described them:

The Taleban members have their own organisational structure. They report to their superiors in the Taleban provincial administration in Shindand district where their provincial governor is based, further up to Helmand and even further up to the Quetta Shura in Pakistan. They report their activities to them and receive instructions, salaries and weapons from there.

The Taleban in Obeh also draw on local financial sources to sustain their operations. They levy ushr (a ten per cent) tax on productive land, commercial activities such as telecommunications, trade in marble and other types of stone in Obeh and Chesht-e Sharif and development projects such as the construction of roads, bridges and so on. They also collect zakat tax – an obligatory tax required of Muslims on a yearly basis (for details, read here). Another important revenue-generating activity is taxing poppy farmers and traders in areas ruled by the Taleban such as Haftkala and Tagabyari villages, according to a long-time and informed resident of Obeh who spoke to AAN. (4) The Taleban also prevent locals from paying tax to the Afghan government and sending their adult sons to join its security forces. Some respondents – among them provincial and district government officials – also alleged that the Iranian government is supporting the Taleban in Obeh and other districts to undermine the Salma hydroelectric dam in Chesht-e Sharif district, which captures some of the water from the River Harirud which would flow downstream into Iran. Although some hostile Iranian interference cannot be ruled out, some scepticism is merited given the overall tendency, especially among Afghan government officials, to put the blame for worsening governance and security on neighbouring countries rather than to shoulder responsibility for failures themselves.

In areas under their control, the Taleban are in daily contact with the local population, especially the arbabs (local representatives that deal with the authorities whoever they are) and other elders. Their key meeting place is the mosque where the Taleban lead daily prayers and deliver speeches about what one interviewee described as “their jihad against a puppet government.” They also hold meetings to discuss local issues such as water-sharing from the Harirud and local conflicts with a view to finding solutions for them. Several interviewees spoke about the speed at which the Taleban address legal cases such as land disputes, as well as about the good security in areas under their control.

Few, however, went into detail about how fair the Taleban verdicts were or how free individuals felt, deep-down, in Taleban-secured areas. One said, “People refer to the Taleban because they are disillusioned with the government,” suggesting that the Afghan government could improve its legitimacy by reforming the way it administers the district, the broader province and the country. Another stated, “People are afraid that, if and when the Taleban come to power again, they will again meddle in [people’s] private affairs such as growing beards and moustaches and using smartphones and the internet.” The Taleban are already dictating how people, especially women, dress in public such as on the roads between Obeh and Herat city and what they should follow on the TV and internet.

Providing security for the two key roads interconnecting the district and provincial centre is also contested by the Afghan government and Taleban insurgents. On the road from Obeh to Herat city through Karukh and Injil districts, the Taleban regularly set up checkpoints where they control the movement of people and goods. Government officials such as the district governor and police chief have to be escorted by heavily armed military convoys while going on this way. The second route – from Obeh to Pashtun Zarghun district and then on to Guzara and Injil districts and ultimately Herat city – is also insecure to a lesser extent, although it is partly asphalted and thus easier to travel. One interviewee reported that, on the road between Obeh and Herat city through Karukh and Injil, “The Taleban stopped a saracha car, opened the door and machine-gunned a man who was an army soldier.” Another interviewee also described Taleban activity at their checkpoints:

“They search [male] passengers and check passengers’ IDs and luggage including those of women passengers…. [T]hey stop women passengers who are not clad in a burqaand beat their men for failing to veil their women properly. So they are punished for not respecting hijab. They also check the mobile phones of passengers to see if there are any photos showing they work for the government, particularly the security forces. They do whatever they decide to do with these people. They even kill. If a man is not dressed in traditional piran tomban[shalwar kameez] and is shaved, they will make it plain that he should get dressed in proper clothes and let his moustache and beard grow. A recent group of Taleban who have come to Obeh from Helmand province even interfere with people’s moustaches and beards and hair. They are stricter than the previous ones.”

The elders and other figures of influence in the district often mediate between the Afghan government and Taleban in various areas of life. In several cases, for example, their mediation has led to the release of people such as ordinary government employees taken by the Taleban.

The conflict between the Afghan government and Taleban over control of the district also hinders the delivery of public services such as education, health, electricity supply, telecommunications and development projects. These are discussed, one by one, below.

Education

According to the IDLG profile of Obeh district, there are 42 schools in the district: 17 primary (grades 1-6), 14 intermediate (grades 7-9) and 11 high schools (grades 10-12). 501 male and 139 female teachers teach some 26,000 pupils, including both boys and girls in these schools. There are also two teacher training institutes, one public and one private.

Additionally, there are many religious schools or madrasas. The major one is Imam Muhammad Ghazali Madrasa located in the district centre and opened about five years ago. This madrasa is affiliated to and acts as the district branch of the Ghiasiya Seminary.

The provision of education is focused on the district centre and adjacent villages. Services diminish the further one goes from these areas, with many schools lacking textbooks, chairs and tables, teaching materials and even compounds. Many also lack good teachers. In remote areas of the district, pupils study in dilapidated tents even in the heat of summer. The richer a family is, the greater the likelihood they send their children, both boys and girls, for education to the district centre, Herat city or even abroad, especially to neighbouring Iran. In particular, those that can afford it send their children to study in Herat city to prepare for the nationwide university entrance test known as Kankur (from the French word concours, meaning contest).

Officials at the Directorate of Education based in Herat city have been frank about their inability to supervise and monitor schools in areas controlled or contested by the Taleban including in Obeh district (see here). They said that of all 969 schools in the province, 750 are supervised by the government and the remaining 219 by the Taliban, meaning that around 23 per cent of all schools are monitored by the Taleban.

Local observers told AAN that the work of the provincial-level Directorate of Education, based in Herat city, has been undermined by heated tensions between its Tajik director, Abdul Razaq Ahmadi, and the Pashtun head of Herat Provincial Council, Haji Kamran Alizai. A previous manager of the Ahmad Shah Massud Foundation in Herat, Ahmadi is a Jamiat party member with ties to Chief Executive Abdullah Abdullah while Alizai is seen as affiliated to the Pashtun circle around President Ashraf Ghani. Problems between the two government leaders have been reproduced at the provincial level. Tensions have apparently now been reduced after Ahmadi was replaced by Rohullah Azhad in September 2018. Although also Jamiati and linked to Abdullah, Azhad is regarded by local observers as more pliable and workable than his predecessor.

According to several respondents, the Afghan government’s delivery of education to the district’s children is highly corrupt and therefore weak, low-quality or even non-existent in parts of Obeh district. School materials are often sold while they should be free for the pupils, they said. Even worse, the proliferation of ghost schools and ghost teachers in Obeh has allowed, as one interviewee bluntly put it, resources and salaries to be “plundered by corrupt government officials, local arbabs and elders, and the Taleban.” A provincial IDLG official who goes on monitoring visits to the districts of Herat described his experience of coming across one ghost school in Obeh:

In an official visit to Obeh, we noticed there was no school and no teachers in an area, but on paper there was a school and a number of teachers there. We sat down for a while and the local arbabtold us that the teacher would come after some time. A person came who was introduced as a teacher by the arbaband they showed us a place without any building or even a tent as the school. They also gathered some children without any textbooks as the pupils. They also brought a blackboard to show us that this was a school.

To overcome the key corruption challenge of ghost teachers and through it ghost schools, the Afghan government began paying teacher salaries through the banking system about a year ago, changing over from the previous system which transferred salaries via mutameds or trusted persons. Although the new procedure has prevented the embezzlement of millions of Afghanis every month by provincial and district kleptocrats and other figures of influence, including the Taleban insurgents, local teachers and non-teaching school staff are still facing a huge headache because there is no bank in Obeh capable of issuing their salaries:

For a year or so, teacher salaries have been paid via the bank. This is a major problem for teachers. The road is not good or safe. It takes time. The monthly salary is about Afs 6,300-7,000 [US$ 84-93.33, if Afs 75 is exchanged for US$ 1] and a teacher spends about Afs 500 [US$ 6.66] to get their salary from the bank in Herat city on transport alone… [And] the teacher has to leave their job for some days [to do this].

As for the Taleban, most respondents said they do not levy a tax on teachers’ salaries. However, they have been engaged in supervising the delivery of education services in parts of Obeh district as far back as the second Karzai administration (2009 to 2014) and particularly during the current National Unity Government. Given the vast areas physically under Taleban rule or contested between state and insurgents, contacts have grown up between the Taleban and government officials, often mediated by local elders, over education service delivery, including staffing and planning.

In specific terms, several respondents including a high school teacher told AAN, that the Afghan government has often agreed to the appointment of those district education officials and teachers who are from Obeh and who, more importantly, can work with the Taleban insurgents in one way or another, according to several respondents including a high school teacher in Obeh. Before appointing teachers, the Afghan government ascertains whether they would be able to work with the Taleban, especially in areas governed by them. There are also Taleban members such as their mawlawis who work as Afghan government-paid teachers in parts of Obeh district, especially in areas fully governed by them. They are usually tasked with teaching religious subjects in schools.

The key Afghan government education official in the district, Abdul Malek Heidari, is widely seen as the man able to work and deal with the Taleban in order to keep schools open and education continued in the district. According to several interviewees, he was sacked by the provincial Directorate of Education for alleged involvement in massive corruption in the district education sector. Not only was he not prosecuted but he was, in fact, reappointed as the district education director because of his ability to work with the Taleban and keep schools running.

The Taleban also monitor education service delivery in other ways. A key concern for them has been the education of girls, which they do allow, but about which they have set strict requirements. A major condition is that only women teachers are allowed to work and teach in girls’ schools. In various parts of Obeh, “many girls schools,” AAN was told (without an exact figure given) lacked women teachers and the Taleban closed these down a couple of years ago. However, they were reopened after local elders intervened and solved the problem by recruiting recent female high school graduates to teach.

In spite of this, as a local teacher from Obeh said, “There are still areas that do not have women teachers, and girls are deprived of education for this reason.” Even in areas in which there are women teachers, they might not be able to work because, as another interviewee stated, “Their men do not often allow them to work [fearing they might] socialise with other men outside the home.” In some places, it is insecurity that makes it impossible for both boys and girls to attend school. Additionally, there are some families, regarded by some as traditional and conservative, which do not want their girls to study beyond primary school. There are also areas in the district in which the Taleban have allowed old men, often religious scholars, to teach at girls’ schools. However, as a long-time resident of Obeh said light-heartedly, but with all seriousness, “Old men can be as lustful as younger ones!”

A second requirement set by the Taleban is that girls and women as students, teachers and non-teaching staff should strictly follow the Islamic hijab (veil) at school. Schoolgirls are therefore dressed in manto (long-sleeved, long-bodied coats) and maqnaa (headscarves). For women, hijab generally means wearing the burqa (a long, loose garment covering the whole body from head to feet) or the chador (a large piece of cloth that is wrapped around the head and upper body leaving only the face exposed). For schoolboys, it is piran tomban, the usual Afghan dress for boys and men. This requirement on clothing has been easy to fulfil because it is a generally-accepted local practice for girls and women to observe hijab in the public domain (including at school) and for boys and men to wear the traditional piran tomban.

Another key Taleban interest in the education sphere is the teaching of religious subjects and their scheduling at school. Although they are generally fine in Obeh district with the school curriculum as prepared by the Ministry of Education, which includes studying the Quran, there are some areas in the district particularly those falling under their full control where they have introduced new subjects such as talim ul-islam (Islamic education), hadith (the sayings of the Prophet Muhammad), tafsir (exegesis) and fiqh (jurisprudence). They also emphasise the teaching of religious subjects at the beginning of the school day before subjects like mathematics, physics, chemistry and English that they view as “the current sciences of the day.” In some places, they have banned the teaching of English at school and instead insisted on the study of Arabic and more Pashto.

To exercise their supervision of the district education sector, the Taleban have formed a specific education department or office led by a specific person (mirroring the government structure). It seems the Taleban are more active than the Afghan government in monitoring the delivery of education services such as the operation of schools, attendance by pupils as well as teaching and non-teaching school staff, types of subjects in the school curriculum, as well as learning. They do have a greater access to more parts of the district. They are also stricter and harder-line in implementing their educational instructions.

Health

The Afghan government is operating several health facilities in Obeh district through a non-governmental organisation (Bakhtar Development Network) contracted by the Ministry of Public Health. There is a Comprehensive Health Centre (CHC) in the district centre that receives clients not only from Obeh but also from Chesht-e Sharif further to the east. The Directorate of Public Health, based in Herat, plans to develop the CHC in Obeh into a District Hospital. In addition, there are also Basic Health Centres (BHCs) in some villages such as Sirwan and Tagabyari. The Directorate of Public Health also plans to increase the number of BHCs in Obeh district. There are also several health posts across the district. (For details on the health system up to the district level including health posts, basic health centres, comprehensive health centres and district hospitals, see Afghanistan’s Basic Package of Health Services (BPHS) here; see also here). Furthermore, there are a number of private health facilities mostly in the district centre.

The delivery of health services in general in the district suffers from serious shortcomings. Most current health personnel in the district are not well-trained or professional. Besides, the health facilities, at least the government-run ones, are not adequately or timely equipped and supplied. As for the privately-administered health facilities, the services they provide are better, but too costly for many inhabitants in Obeh. The good thing about the public health facilities is, as one interviewee said, “They work 24/7 while private clinics work like shops, from 8 am to 4 pm.”

A major part of the inadequacies in health service delivery arise from the growing insecurity in most parts of Obeh district. Insecurity has particularly affected female health workers. The CHC in Obeh used to have a female doctor (an obstetrician-gynaecologist), about two years ago, but currently lacks such a physician. In fact, presently there is no female doctor throughout the whole district. This does not mean that Obeh has produced no women doctors but, as a respondent whose father has worked in the medical field in Obeh for the past several decades said, “They prefer to work outside Obeh such as in Herat city or abroad such as in neighbouring Iran.” This is because, as one respondent bluntly put it, “The area is insecure and the salary is not attractive.”

There are, however, some other female health personnel. There are midwives and nurses in the CHC, BHCs and health posts in many parts of the district. However, they have faced greater problems carrying out their work as the security situation deteriorated in the district. Many dare not go and work in areas under Taleban rule or influence. There is also less communication between them and the better-trained male and female health personnel who are based in the provincial centre. One doctor from Obeh said:

In the past, health personnel, especially female ones, used to go from the city of Herat to provide nursing and midwifery training in far-flung villages in Obeh, but this has decreased significantly during the past several years because of the worsening security situation. They no longer dare go and do this work in those areas.

The Taleban insurgents have not directly stymied the delivery of health services in Obeh. One reason is that they too need these services and for this, they have in fact made life for many of the district health personnel hectic. They use the Afghan government-run health services for their own ends as illustrated by the doctor from Obeh who was interviewed for this research:

The Taleban do not interfere in health services. My friends who work as health personnel in Obeh tell me they are very busy and have lots of things to do at night. The Taleban come to them on their motorbikes at night. They make them go with them to treat their injured and sick members. They have to go and fulfil their requests. The Taleban can come anytime at night. So they go, do their work and come back. They cannot say no to the Taleban. They cannot continue their work if they say no to these requests.

During the day, as needs arise, the Taleban members call health centre directors, asking them to send physicians and other health staff to treat their injured and sick. The health personnel have to take all available, necessary medical equipment with them. They also approach the health centres in person and are usually given priority treatment. The Taleban generally behave well with the medical staff and pay the fees of private health providers. In serious cases, the Taleban in Obeh reportedly transfer their injured members to Pakistan.

The Taleban’s privileged use of health personnel does have knock-on effects, not only on health personnel, but also on ‘ordinary’ patients. Many health personnel struggle to work efficiently and effectively during the day as they have been up all night. In many cases, the civilian sick and injured have to wait for long periods of time for health personnel to come back from Taleban areas, or they return home having had no access to health services on particular days.

As for the use of health services by women residents in areas under Taleban control in Obeh, the Taleban seem to be fine with women being treated by male physicians, given that there is currently no female doctor in the district. However, female clients of health services need to be accompanied by a relative, either a male or an old female.

Similarly, the Taleban have not undermined the implementation of vaccination campaigns in Obeh. However, any vaccination campaign needs to be coordinated with the Taleban leaders in advance through the mediation of local elders. The last polio and measles vaccination campaigns were carried out around half a year ago in Obeh district. The vaccinators were able to move around freely and conduct their business.

However, in some remote parts of the district, some people hold negative views about vaccination, seeing it, in the words of a Herat Directorate of Public Health staff member who is from Obeh, as “part of a foreign agenda to do certain bad things to the Muslims,” for example, make them infertile. These views often arise from local beliefs, but could also be politically motivated. One respondent was also worried that the Taleban who have recently come to Obeh from Helmand province could make problems for the implementation of vaccination campaigns in the time to come.

Electricity, media and telecommunication

In August 2017, Da Afghanistan Breshna Sherkat (DABS), the country’s power utility, signed contracts with three companies (two Iranian and one Afghan-Indian firm) for extending the Herat electricity grid to the four eastern districts of the province – Karukh, Pashtun Zarghun, Obeh, and Chesht-e Sharif (see here). DABS said it was a 16 million USD power supply project that would take 18 months to complete and would benefit some 16,000 families in the four districts. 15 months later (as of November 2018), there has been no implementation at all.

Many cite insecurity as the reason why the DABS project has failed to take off. This is largely true. However, a provincial IDLG official also said those involved in the project wanted “to get more lucrative contracts by presenting security, especially threats from the Taleban as a pretext.” This is because, at least in Obeh district, from where the quoted IDLG official comes, the Taleban have thus far allowed the implementation of publicly-useful projects such as road-building and bridge construction, after their agreement has been secured and, of course, their ‘tax’ paid. Some sample projects will be discussed in the next section, Other Services Available.

Consequently, there is no public power supply in Obeh district. As an alternative, many people have installed equipment to use solar power to at least light their homes at night, charge batteries and mobile phones, watch TV and listen to the radio. Another alternative for some is to generate hydropower. Overall, more residents have access to solar than hydropower. There are also some people, especially the well-off, who have diesel generators to ensure their access to electricity when needed. Others, especially the socioeconomically poor and those residing in faraway mountainous parts of the district, cannot afford to access electricity on a regular, stable basis.

Many Obeh residents who do have access to electricity have TVs at home that are connected to dish antennas on their rooftops. Normal antennas do not work in the district, given its mountainous nature. This means there are no local TV stations in Obeh, and TV stations based in Herat city but not broadcasting through satellites cannot be received in this district. People usually watch countrywide TV stations such as Tolo and Ariana, following the news, roundtable discussions on current affairs in Afghanistan and beyond, as well as soap operas, especially the Turkish ones.

As for the radio, there are no local radio stations in Obeh either. In fact, fewer people listen to the radio nowadays, compared to TV watchers. Those who do generally listen to foreign radio stations such as the American Radio Azadi (the Afghan branch of the US government’s Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, RFE/RL), the British BBC and the Iranian Radio Dari.

Since there are no local TV or radio stations, there is a jarchi (town crier) in the district centre who moves from neighbourhood to neighbourhood, informing people about developments in the district, such as visits of provincial officials from Herat city or the initiation of public projects. Mosque loudspeakers are also used to inform people of public events throughout Obeh.

Many people continue to have access to TV and radio in at least some areas under Taleban rule. In fact, many Taleban members, themselves, watch TV and listen to the radio. However, they tell people not to watch TV programmes particularly soap operas which they regard as immoral and promiscuous and therefore contrary to what they see as ‘authentic’ Afghan religion and culture. They also tell people not to listen to music on the radio. However, as a journalist from Obeh said, “It is difficult to enforce these orders in practice because it is mostly a private affair taking place at people’s homes.” Some respondents said that in some areas of the district the Taleban have banned watching TV and listening to the music on radio and in other ways such as on the phone. They have instead exhorted the local population to read the Quran and listen to its recitation.

This brings us to a discussion of the state of telecommunications in Obeh district. There are presently three active mobile network operators in the district – the Afghan Roshan, the Emirati Etisalat and the South African MTN. The Afghan public Salaam Network and the private Afghan Wireless Communication Company (AWCC) do not operate in the district, despite requests by some Obeh activists for Salaam to begin offering services, given the cheapness and (perceived) speed of its services. One reason why Salaam has not entered Obeh might be a greater fear of the Taleban, for it is a public mobile phone company with links to the Afghan government.

Many residents in Obeh have smartphones, through which they are connected to the internet. Although the internet is slow and weak across the district, especially the farther you go from the district centre, a large number of people particularly the youth are busy communicating and sharing news, information, opinions and pictures on social networking sites, primarily Facebook. Being connected to the internet is also a necessity for those residents of Obeh that have family members and friends in neighbouring Iran and further afield in Turkey and Europe. They keep in touch with their relatives abroad through a variety of applications including Viber, WhatsApp, Imo, Line, Telegram and, of course, Facebook.

Obeh inhabitants also have to live with no mobile phone coverage during the night from about 5 pm to around 5 am the following day. For the last five years, these have been cut throughout the district at the behest of the Taleban insurgents. Only on two most important Islamic festivals of the year, Eid al-Fitr and Eid al-Adha, do the Taleban let mobile network operators deliver their services during the night as well. The Taleban also sometimes order the mobile phone companies to turn on their services for a specific duration on a specific night.

The mobile network operators rigorously comply with the Taleban orders because otherwise, as one respondent said, “The Taleban will destroy their antennas, hit them or set them on fire.” It seems telecommunication services are severed centrally, for an interviewee knew from a relative of his who worked for a mobile phone company in Obeh that the companies do not turn off their equipment at night; it is only that reception in the district is stopped.

For the Taleban, it is safer not to have night-time mobile coverage. Most Taleban attacks on Afghan government checkpoints in Obeh are carried out at night. It is at night also that the insurgents often coordinate their forces, take care of logistics and move freely not just in the mountainous areas under their rule but also in the main inhabited valley in the district.  With the mobile coverage off, they can do this without the risk of residents reporting them to the government especially the security authorities. On the side of the Afghan government, it usually retreats to the district centre and its checkpoints at night, keeping hold of these positions. Both the Afghan government and Taleban insurgents have provided walkie-talkies for some of their forces to communicate at night.

Additionally, the Taleban insurgents have been taxing mobile network operators for the past several years. None of the respondents knew how much the mobile phone companies are paying the Taleban to have their telecommunication services running at least during the daylight. However, all agreed that the companies and Taleban were in touch bilaterally for the security and continuation of their telecommunication services in Obeh. The Taleban have not yet taxed the local population for using telecommunication services.

The Taleban insurgents and mobile network operators are collaborating in other ways, too. According to one respondent, at least one mobile phone company has paid money to the Taleban to guard its staff, antennas and stations against extortion and threats by (other) malicious elements such as armed criminal groups. Also, some companies have been hit by a ‘protection racket’ by some Taleban; the companies provide them with electricity from thermal or solar power from their local stations at night in return for the Taleban ‘ensuring’ the security of their staff, antennas and stations in areas under their control.

Other services available

Two types of other services available in the district stand out. First are the justice services offered by the Taleban in areas under their domination. Several people said the Taleban out-govern the Afghan administration in addressing disputes among the local people. As elsewhere across the country, many Obeh inhabitants have become disillusioned with the rampant corruption in the official district justice system. So they take many of their cases to the Taleban courts where they are adjudicated much faster. This has made some residents happy with the justice services provided by the Taleban.

At the same time, there are many residents who are forced to approach the Taleban courts to get their cases dealt with because the Taleban are, in practice, the only authority in their area. They have no other option.

In either case, verdicts issued by the Taleban courts are enforced much more effectively than those issued by the government courts. The key reason is the fear of Taleban retribution not just for non-enforcement of their court rulings but for all their orders and instructions. The severity of Taleban punishment depends on the ‘offence’ committed. For instance, AAN was told, adultery allegations, at least in some cases, have resulted in the stoning of the alleged perpetrators to death. Teachers and doctors who say ‘no’ to Taleban requests are beaten or dismissed. Mobile network operators have to comply with Taleban restrictions for the very safety of their employees, antennas and stations. So Taleban orders are respected, for everyone knows the harsh consequences of non-compliance.

The second type of other services available in Obeh district are the development projects that have been implemented or are being implemented under the government’s National Solidarity Programme (NSP) and its successor the Citizens’ Charter as well as by other development agencies. According to all respondents, for any of these public projects to take off, it is imperative to meet two key criteria: (1) the project should be publicly useful and (2) the Taleban need to agree to it and their tax (in most cases, ushr or ten per cent) paid in advance. This is normally taken care of by local elders who mediate between the Taleban and the government, and the NGOs.

The most famous post-2001 development project: a 150 metres long, seven metres wide, 200,000 USD costing bridge connects Murqcha and Musaferan villages to the north and south of the River Harirud. It was only built after the Taleban authorised it, following mediation by elders, and the payment of a ten per cent ‘tax’. One user said he thanks God every time he crosses the bridge, “It is such a comfort for the local people.” Photo: Pajhwok, 2017

 

In Obeh district, there are a number of noteworthy projects. First is the flagship development project in the post 2001-era, a bridge, about 150 metres long and seven metres wide, which has been built at a cost of about 200,000 USD and connects Murqcha and Musaferan villages in the north and south of the district over the River Harirud. The construction of this bridge was only made possible after local elders pleaded with the Taleban and managed to win their go-ahead. The Taleban’s tax was also paid. This has been the most publicly-beneficial project carried out in Obeh in the post-2001 period, as a trader from the district described:

It has ended the cut-off of any link between people on the two sides of the river especially in the wet season when the river is flooded. For instance, people can take sick relatives to the clinic in the district centre. And people can take fruit from their orchards to sell in the district centre and from there to Herat city. I myself own an orchard, and this bridge has helped me a lot. Each time I cross the bridge in my car I say, ‘In the Name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful’ and feel very happy. It is such a comfort for the local people.

A second notable project is a road, about 17 kilometres long, that is being built linking Bidak and Sirwan villages on the southern bank of the River Harirud, not far from Obeh district centre. The contract for constructing the road has been awarded to the family of Rahima Jami, a sitting parliamentarian from Herat province who ran for another term in the recent elections. This project could also only take off after the local elders mediated and bargained with the Taleban to let it go ahead. The Taleban gave their approval, again after their tax was paid.

Another important project that is under way is the construction of a canal, around 10 kilometres long, from Bagal to Deh Daraz villages also on the southern bank of the river in the west of the district. The canal will be made of concrete with paved roads on either side. For this project too, the Taleban consent was won after the elders mediated and their tax was paid.

Currently, there are also various Citizens’ Charter projects that are due to be implemented in different parts of Obeh district. These projects will make specific sums of money available to the local population and mainly focus on the provision of amenities such as water and power supply. In some villages, for instance, the village elders have decided to spend the Citizens’ Charter money on digging deep wells, piping water to their villages and providing safe potable water for the residents. Others want to pave roads in their villages. There are also projects focused on the development of local agriculture such as grapes and pistachios, livestock and small-scale fisheries. For most of these projects too, it has been imperative to get Taleban approval and pay their tax.

Conclusion

The Taleban interfere directly in most of services. In education, they are directly engaged in a supervisory role, keeping an eye on teacher appointments, having some of their members employed as teachers especially for teaching religious subjects, dictating the conditions of girls’ education (although this is allowed) and organising the curriculum so that there is a greater emphasis on some subjects, especially religious ones, and less or no emphasis on other subjects they see as ‘foreign’ or ‘secular.’ They have imposed strict restrictions on telecommunication services, enforcing a cut-off of coverage during the night and taxing the mobile phone companies. The Taleban have also indirectly obstructed the electrification of four eastern districts of Herat including Obeh. As for other projects of a public utility nature, Taleban approval has to be sought and their ten per cent tax paid for these projects to take off. Their orders and criteria are generally met, either just to get things done or to avoid harsh retribution.

It is only with respect to health services that the Taleban do not interfere directly. Both men and women are free to work and seek health care. This is partly because the Taleban need these services, too. However, they do insist on getting priority care for themselves, keeping district health personnel busy both during the day and at night by bringing in sick and injured Taleban or forcibly taking the medical personnel off to treat Taleban patients. This privileged use by the Taleban of health facilities has had knock-on effects on ordinary people who have to wait to see medical personnel and many medical workers themselves who struggle to work effectively during the day as they have been up all night.

The district of Obeh faces uncertain, unpredictable times. Security-wise, the Afghan government and Taleban forces are in a mutually-hurting stalemate, though the district is not actively contested, at least for now. In terms of public service delivery, what has emerged in Obeh in recent years is an unstable, hybrid form of governance. The two parties are rivals, but also, out of necessity, in contact: the government administers and finances services, while the Taleban control and monitor some of them, in areas under their domination.

Both parties extract ‘rent’ from public services. Respondents spoke about some government officials skimming off money intended for education, for example, or from project contracts, something that results in inefficiency and low-quality or no services. The insurgents also take ‘rent’ out of some services such as telecommunications and development projects, insisting on being given a ten per cent tax of project costs. Despite this corruption by both sides and the fact that the Taleban do not fund anything, they still pose a formidable challenge to the authority of the Afghan government in Obeh. The Taleban, largely disciplined and obeying orders, for the moment at least, seem to be ‘out-governing’ the Afghan government in several areas in many parts of the district. Their control is more effective and their monitoring more active.

For the local population, options are limited. They have had no alternative but to learn how to work and deal with both parties, usually via the mediation of elders and other figures of influence. It is risky and difficult navigating the complex, fluid governance and security environment of Obeh.

 

 

Edited by Sari Kouvo, Thomas Ruttig, Kate Clark and Jelena Bjelica

 

 

(1) Ismael Khan rose from a captain in the government army (from which he defected in 1979 to join an anti-communist uprising) to mujahedin commander to governor of Herat and self-declared ‘amir’ of what historically was called the south-western region (1992 to 1994 and again, 2002 to 2004) to the Minister of Energy and Water to a vice-presidential candidate in the hugely disputed 2014 presidential elections. He continues to be an influential member of the Jamiat party.

(2) The following are the key governance figures in Obeh district:

Afghan government

• District governor: Rahmuddin Sarwarzai (aka Rahmuddin Khan), from Obeh
• District police chief: Sher Agha Alokozay (aka Sher Agha Khan), from Obeh, said to be severely anti-Taleban and widely regarded locally as the pillar of state security in the district
• District mayor: Najibullah Ahmadi, from Obeh
• District education director: Abdul Malek Heidari, from Obeh, was replaced for a while by Juma Gul Khan Ayoubi, has been re-appointed in the district education director position
• District public health director: Nazir Ahmad Tukhi, from Obeh, son to Abdul Malek Heidari

Taleban

• District governor: reportedly Mullah Hamidullah Mubarez (aka Mubarez Helmandi)
• District commander: Mullah Esmatullah (aka Mullah Esmat), from Obeh and with roots in Gulran district of Herat province
• District education director: Mullah Wazir, replaced Agha Abdul Wali (aka Agha Wali)
• No district public health director on the Taleban side
• Influential members in Obeh: Mullah Hassan Marabadi (aka Mullah Hassan) who is from Obeh with roots in Pashtun Zarghun district and served as a former Taleban district governor, Mullah Zar Alam and Mullah Amir Jan. The latter (Mullah Amir Jan) was reportedly killed by the Afghan government security forces around mid-October 2018.
• Deputy provincial governor operating in/from Obeh: reportedly Mullah Abdul Manan Liwanai (‘liwanai’ is a Pashto word, meaning ‘crazy’) whom the Afghan government reported as dead after he was injured in a clash with its security forces in Obeh around mid-October 2018

(3) Resolute Support’s method considers such issues as who governs, who gets taxes, who controls infrastructure and who controls ‘messaging’ in a district (see page 5 of this report for further explanation).

(4) Our information contradicts the assessment of the UN Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC). Its 2017 Opium Survey (see page 66 here) said there has been no poppy cultivation in Obeh since 2005.

 

The Taleban today control or influence whole swathes of Afghanistan. Estimates of exactly how much vary, but in the vast majority of Afghanistan’s provinces, control is split between government and insurgency. What that means for local people in terms of services usually provided by a state is the subject of a new research project by AAN. It looks at the delivery of education, health, electricity and telecommunications in six insurgency-affected districts. In this first dispatch, Jelena Bjelica and Kate Clark introduce the series, reviewing previous research, explaining our research methodology and discussing what AAN expects the six case studies will reveal about life under the Taleban.

Service delivery in insurgent-affected areas is a joint research project by the Afghanistan Analysts Network (AAN) and the United States Institute of Peace (USIP).

The first part of this dispatch focuses on the re-emergence and growth of the Taleban from 2001 onwards. This is followed by an overview of existing research on the Taleban’s delivery of services. Finally, we explain our methodology of research and look ahead to the six case studies.

1. Gradual emergence of parallel systems of governance

The Taleban transition to an ‘insurgent parallel government’

After being ousted from power in 2001, it was only very slowly and locally that the Taleban re-emerged. Their main mission was and still is military – expanding (or re-expanding) territorial control, harrying and trying to push back foreign troops and government forces and using assassinations, bomb attacks and other means to pressure civilians into compliance. At the same time, the Taleban movement has sought to present itself as a government – unfairly ousted from power, but a government nonetheless, one “in absentia,” as Alex Strick van Linschoten and Felix Kuehn in An Enemy We Created(p308) put it. This stance is reflected in the Taleban’s own way of referring to their administration; ever since 1996 when the movement captured Kabul, and up to the present, it calls itself the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan (IEA).

The Taleban do not consider themselves a political party and have never provided a ‘policy agenda’, beyond that painted with the roughest of brush strokes, promising a ‘broad-based Islamic government’ (prakh-benseta Islami hukumat) (see AAN analysis here). Indeed, one of the ironies of the movement presenting itself as a government is that its political project is so thinly thought-out, in terms for example, of how the Taleban envisage the relationship between citizen and state, or their policies on education, the economy, the status of women etc. Nevertheless, the fact that the Taleban have come to control territory in recent years has meant that, as in the pre-2001 era, they have had to address some of these ‘policy issues’, in practice. That includes the delivery of services normally associated with a state and the development ‘civilian’ structures dealing with governance.

In the early years of the international military intervention in Afghanistan, the ousted Taleban government “had no real structures or hierarchies, with which to regroup and revive,” commented Strick van Linschoten and Kuehn (An Enemy We Created, p244). According to these authors, in the period between December 2001 and June 2003, the Taleban leadership had not “even a firm position on whether to start an insurgency or to try to have a voice in the new political realities within Afghanistan.” They describe how the structure of and recruitment for the Taleban movement’s military force based on andiwali, a Dari and Pashto word for friendship or comradeship, the ties of mutual loyalty and solidarity forged “through long-standing relations built on family, clan, tribal affiliations, friendship” during the war (andiwali is not restricted to Taleban, of course) (pp246-54 for). AAN’s Thomas Ruttig in his 2010 paper on the Taleban also offers the following insight into the structure of the movement, not limited to their (dominating) military structure:

Today’s Taleban movement is dualistic in nature, both structurally and ideologically. The aspects are interdependent: A vertical organisational structure, in the form of a centralised ‘shadow state’, reflects its supra-tribal and supra-ethnic Islamist ideology, which appears to be ‘nationalistic’ – i.e., it refers to Afghanistan as a nation – at times. At the same time, the movement is characterised by horizontal, network- like structures that reflect its strong roots in the segmented Pashtun tribal society. The movement is a ‘network of networks’.

The first post-2001 Taleban shura, formed in June 2003, that oversaw the launch of the Taleban insurgency under Mullah Omar’s leadership (see AAN reporting here), was “made up of ten members and was responsible for the Taleban political and military’s strategy” (An Enemy We Created, p253). In the period that followed (2003 to 2005), available research shows that the Taleban consolidated and set up structures “to mobilise support in order to expand and popularise an insurgency throughout the Afghanistan” (An Enemy We Created, pp261-3). The one quasi-state service provided by the Taleban from the beginning of the insurgency – and indeed from the earliest days of ‘taleban fronts’ during the anti-Soviet resistance of the 1980s were courts. Post-2001, whenever Taleban insurgents sought to move into an area, they “prioritize[d] setting up alternatives to the state’s judicial system” wrote Carter and Clark in “No Shortcut to Stability: Justice, Politics and Insurgency in Afghanistan”, 2010, pp21-22). Because of the corruption and inefficiency in the government’s judicial system, these became one of the insurgency’s main strengths: “Through their control of the justice systems,” wrote Frazer Hirst (2009), who worked with the British PRT in Helmand and wrote an internal report for DFID, “Support to the Informal Justice Sector in Helmand”, “the Taleban gain a level of control, influence and support which tends to undermine the links between communities and government.” (See also Tariq Osman, “The Resurgence of the Taliban in Kabul, Logar and Wardak”, in Giustozzi (ed), Decoding the New Taliban, pp43–56 and also this 2012 Integrity Watch Afghanistan paper).

In 2006, the Taleban issued their first layha or code of conduct. It laid out “a vision of guerrilla warfare that is not just a fight between armed forces, but a struggle to separate the population from the state and create ‘social’  frontlines” as AAN’s Kate Clark wrote in her 2011 paper, “The Layha: Holding the Taleban to Account”. She described the particularly harsh policies on schools and NGOs:

In the 2006 Code, teaching in government schools was deemed illegal and punishments were harsh. Teachers were to be warned and if necessary beaten: ‘. . . if a teacher or mullah continues to instruct contrary to the principles of Islam, the district commander or group leader must kill him’ (2006:25). Education was allowed, but only in a mosque or similar institution, using jihad or Emirate-era textbooks and by someone with religious training. Schools were to be closed and if necessary burned (2006:25). Any contract with an NGO, in exchange for money or materials, had to be authorised at the highest level, by the leadership shura (2006:8).

In terms of structures, the layha of 2006 mentions only a military commission, and unspecified provincial, district and regional officials. Strick van Linschoten and Kuehn pointed out that, even though the Taleban had been engaged in a campaign to “win over rural Afghans since 2005-2006,” it was not until 2008-2009 “that the provision of services and accountability became more widespread” (p285). They also noted that the system of courts, which had been operational since 2001, “albeit in highly reduced form,” spread from 2007 onwards “to different locations and met more regularly.” This, the authors said, happened parallel to the rolling out of a more responsive complaints system, “whereby inhabitants of rural areas could request investigations into corrupt Taliban commanders or members.” Two new committees, one to handle complaints from commanders and fighters, and another to deal with villagers’ grievances, were set up in 2008 (see here; see also AAN reporting here and here).

However, the real change in governance structure was indicated in the 2009 layha. It laid out a more complex governance structure which, next to military commissions, now included provincial and district commissions, as well as education and trade commissions. The 2009 code (see Clark’s paper for translation of all three layhas) said:

Provincial officials are obliged to establish a commission at the provincial level with no fewer than five members, all of whom should be competent. This commission, with the agreement of the provincial official, should establish similar commissions, also at the district level. Some of the members of both commissions should [usually] be present in their area of work.

In several places in the 2009 layha, provincial and district governors are mentioned in relation to various tasks. The 2009 code does not specify how these governors were to be appointed, or by whom, although it does lay out detailed reporting lines.

The third – and still most recent – layha was published in 2010. It further expanded the quasi-state bodies, adding Commissions for Health, (art 61), Education (art  59) and Companies and NGOs (art 60). Clark writes: “[T]he minimal nature of this will be no surprise to anyone familiar with the Islamic Emirate pre-2001 when, for example, ministers would frequently be away from their desks fighting at the various frontlines.” (See here).

During the same period, the Taleban also changed their already evolving attitude towards education. After they removed an order to attack schools and teachers from their code of conduct in 2009, they also engaged with the Ministry of Education, which decided to re-start negotiations with the Taleban (For more detail on this, see AAN papers here and here).

Jamila Nuri still teaching as the Taleban are losing power in  November 2001. Girls’ education had been banned by the Taleban in power, but in many places teaching carried on ‘illegally’. Here a basement in Herat city was the classroom. Photo BEHROUZ MEHRI/AFP.

After 2014, ie in the post-ISAF period, the Taleban have not only expanded their territorial control and dominance (more on which below), they also seem to have consolidated their ‘service delivery’ provisions and system of ‘taxation’.

Most of the various Taleban commissions – on education, health, agriculture, trade and commerce, financial affairs and NGOs – do not themselves provide services. Instead they seek to co-opt the services of government, NGOs and private companies at the local level, by controlling and influencing them. In some cases, they use government money transferred to local Taleban officials and themselves ‘pay’ workers providing services, eg school teachers. (1)

Reports of Taleban parallel governmental structures have come up in the Afghan and international media occasionally, but consistently in recent years. Afghan media, for example, reported in 2017 that Taleban all over Ghazni province were systematically taxing “media outlets, businessmen and common people” and even “Provincial Council members [and] governor house officials,” that the Taleban send electricity bills to customers in Kunduz and extort road tolls from truckers in Zabul. The Taleban were also reported to be building up networks of privately-financed madrassas and mosques in Helmand and Badakhshan. Their courts continue to operate, mediating in land and other conflicts (for example, in Jawzjan). They are also reported as maintaining prisons, for example, in Helmand, imposing changes on the school curriculum (for example, in Logar) and having a say in the hiring and firing of teachers. In Taleban-held areas, the Taleban have been reported using government funding sent to schools operated by the Ministry of Education (see this BBC reportage from Helmand). They also ‘regulate’ mobile network providers and determine at what time of the day they can operate (see this report from Helmand here and from Ghazni here). While the Taleban used the mobile networks in early 2010s to spread propaganda (see this BBC report), there are reports suggesting there a formal policy of taxing mobile service providers has been in place since late 2015 (see this Tolo news). In January 2016, the AFP wrote: “At a secret meeting last month [December 2015] near Quetta, the Taliban’s central leadership formally demanded the tax from representatives of four cellular companies in exchange for not damaging their sites or harming their employees”. The news agency’s sources reported that this “edict was motivated by an Afghan government announcement… that it had amassed a windfall of 78 million Afghani (1.14 USD) within days of imposing an additional ten per cent tax on operators.” The Taleban have started posting videos and statements in which they claim to have organised road building and other infrastructure projects. Another indication of the insurgent group’s reach was a BBC report from January 2018 reporting that Taleban rule in parts of some provinces like Uruzgan was so unchallenged, they could “focus on health, safety and trading standards.” (2)

How many people get Taleban controlled or influenced services?

Defining how much of Afghanistan’s population, territory and districts are under the control or influence of the Afghan government and Taleban is subject to debate (see this AAN analysis of how to measure insecurity and control). Assessments vary, although it is clear that, at the very least, the Taleban influence many people’s lives. Both recent Resolute Support data (published by the Special Inspector General for Afghanistan Reconstruction’s, SIGAR in October 2018) and the BBC in January 2018, using different assessment methods, (3) found that, although many more districts were under full government control (18 per cent and 30 per cent respectively) than full Taleban control (2.5 per cent and 4 per cent), the Taleban had a presence in a large number of districts, albeit to varying degrees. Resolute Support found that, in addition to those districts under full insurgent control, 78 per cent more were ‘influenced’ by the government, or were ‘neutral’ or ‘influenced’ by the Taleban. As for the BBC, it found that, again, aside from those where the Taleban were in full control, 66 per cent of other districts had an ‘open Taleban presence’. Note that some analysts feel the US gives too rosy a picture of government control (see this New York Times article quoting data from the FDD’s The Long War Journal. According to SIGAR reports, most Taleban expansion came between November 2015 and November 2016 when the government lost about 15 per cent of the districts it had controlled or influenced.

The Resolute Support metrics quoted by SIGAR which assess governance and taxation give a little more sense of the number of districts where, in at least some areas, the Taleban are likely involved in service delivery. For example, Resolute Support’s categorisation of districts uses the following metric on governance:

1. 1. Under insurgent control: No district governor or meaningful presence. Insurgents responsible for governance
2. 2. Under insurgent influence: No district governor and limited governance. insurgents active and well supported
3. 3. Neutral: No district governor present and limited presence
4. 4. Under government influence: District governor present and governance active. Insurgents active but have limited influence
5. 5. Under government control: District governor and government control all aspects of governance. Limited insurgent presence.

The Resolute Support data on control of Afghanistan’s districts, published by the Special Inspector General for Afghanistan Reconstruction’s, SIGAR in October 2018.

The Resolute Support, in October 2018, put about 45 per cent of all districts into categories one to three and in those places, one could expect the Taleban to have control or influence over service delivery in at least some areas of the district. Even in category four districts this might be the case. The Resolute Support metric on taxation also suggests that at least some people living in districts categorised one to four will be paying a Taleban ‘tax’. It says “a shadow system” of Taleban taxation is “present in some areas” of category 4 districts; is “effective” and “commonplace” in category 3 districts and; is “dominant” in category 2 districts. In category 1 districts, the local economy is “controlled” by the insurgents. The mirror image of this, of course, and it is worth stressing, is that the government has some influence and control over governance and taxation in districts categorised 2-5.

Many Afghans then, will be having to deal with the Taleban when it comes to services normally provided or regulated by a state and the Taleban will have to be dealing with people’s expectations and demands when it comes to these services. How this works out in practice is the subject of this research. We have chosen six districts as case studies (more on which later) and each will be the subject of a separate dispatch. In this piece, we want to look at what has already been written on this subject and present our methodology for research.

2. Previous research

Insurgent-run service-delivery: a literature review

There are a limited number of publicly available studies that deal with Taleban service delivery provisions and administration. There is a much bigger literature on public service delivery in Afghanistan, generally, and this context is important for understanding what the Taleban do. The Afghan public service sector – especially education and health care – has greatly expanded and improved since 2001, in terms of schools and health services becoming more widespread and available. However, both sectors remain heavily dependent on development aid and aid agencies. For example, health services in Afghanistan are outsourced to 40 national and international NGOs that are mandated with delivering basic health provisions in 31 provinces (in the remaining three provinces, the Ministry of Public Health directly delivers). For an overview of health service delivery in Afghanistan see here. Apart from security, the area that has received most financial support is what could be called ‘social infrastructure’ (ie building schools, roads and hospitals) and accompanying services, primarily education and health care.

As to paying for these services, in 2016, the World Bank described Afghanistan (page, 3) as “unique worldwide in its extraordinary dependence on foreign aid.” Aid, said the Bank “is critical to financing growth, service delivery, and security.” Aid to Afghanistan amounted to around 75 per cent of GDP between 2005 and 2011 and, even though government revenues have increased since then and aid fallen, in 2017, aid still stood at around 45 per cent of GDP. The Washington-based Institute for State Effectiveness suggests a rule of thumb for a functioning, sovereign state that aid should amount to a maximum of 20 per cent of GDP. More than that – and Afghanistan has received far more than the optimum over many years – risks corruption and government mismanagement, says the Institute. (For more analysis of aid, see this AAN reporting from earlier this year)

Public services in Afghanistan have, indeed, been riven with corruption. For example, the 2017 Independent Joint Anti-Corruption Monitoring and Evaluation Committee’s (MEC) report showed that in the education sector corruption has become endemic in the last 10 to 15 years and that malpractice is systemic within the ministry (see AAN reporting here). Another MEC report about corruption in the Ministry of Public Health from June 2016 showed that the Afghanistan’s public health sector also suffers from “deep and endemic corruption problems.” (See also this SIGAR report on corruption in the health sector). This is one aspect of the context within which the Taleban have co-opted government-funded services.

Another contextual issue worth stressing is that, as the two AAN publications on education cited in the last section pointed out, (non-madrassa) education, particularly but not exclusively of girls and women, has been a political football for decades in Afghanistan, used and occasionally enforced by various governments and their backers as a marker of ‘progress’ (eg the People’s Democratic Party of Afghanistan’s regime between 1978 and 1992, and post-2001 administrations) or attacked by opposition groups and governments and their backers for being a conduit of foreign influence (eg the mujahedin in the 1980s and the Taleban in and outside government). Parallel dynamics have also applied in attitudes towards madrassas and the religious education sector. Attitudes among the general population have also varied, but, particularly after the refugee experience for millions of Afghans in Pakistan and Iran, more people have welcomed or indeed demanded the education of their children than in previous decades. That has included the education of girls, although to a lesser extent. Taleban attitudes towards government schools and the curriculum since they lost power need to be seen in this context.

As to healthcare, this has never been a political issue in the way education has been, (4) as the Afghanistan Research and Evaluation Unit (AREU) wrote in its study, “The Political Economy of Education and Health Service Delivery In Afghanistan”:

The Taliban opposition never objected to the delivery of health services in principle, mainly because they saw health delivery as less “political” than education and clinics as useful to the Taliban themselves, unlike state schools.

In terms of general reporting on Taleban service delivery, Giustozzi’s 2017 report for Landinfo (an independent body within Norway’s immigration authorities), “Afghanistan: Taliban’s organization and structure”, says that it is limited due to financial constraints, with the exception of the courts and, Giustozzi says, some clinics, which are not co-opted government ones, but the Taleban’s own:

Some of the Taliban leaders seem to think that service delivery is a source of political legitimacy. Due to financial limitations, however, the Taliban delivers only very few services, with the exception of justice. The decision by Haibatullah Akhund in 2016 to open up Taliban clinics to the general population was only implemented in a haphazard way for lack of funding. There have been cases of Taliban taxing the local population for specific projects, such as road building. Taliban-provided education is limited to some hundred madrasas.

Giustozzi further asserts that “the Taliban simply highjack government services, as in the case of education”:

The Taliban impose their own curriculum, textbooks and teachers, while the government continues to pay salaries and all other expenses. The Taliban also stamp NGO and humanitarian agency projects with their seal of approval, often even sending their representatives to the inauguration of projects alongside government officials.

Michael Semple in a 2018 article, “Afghanistan’s Islamic Emirate Returns: Life Under a Resurgent Taliban” scrutinises one district under Taleban dominion, Chapa Dara in Kunar, and shows a mixing of military and civilian aspects of Taleban control. The shadow governor Rahm Dil, says Semple, “adjudicates disputes among civilians while commanding a fighting force of about 50 men.” Moreover, “If a Talib in Chapa Dara arrests someone on suspicion of committing some kind of infraction, for instance, he will always quickly refer back to Rahm Dil for guidance on whether to hold, release or kill the person.” There is also a unit of the Amr bin Maroof, or religious police, in the district who ‘police’ moral crimes and behaviour. The Taliban’s main economic function in Chapa Dara, says Semple, is “maintaining security, thereby allowing businesses to operate safely,” businesses which the Taleban then tax (the ten per cent ushr). Semple also found that:

The Taliban actively involve themselves in the provision of public services, but the actual resources for those services come from elsewhere. In the education sector, the government in Kabul funds schools… the Kabul-based government has more of a presence in the health sector.

Some studies offer an in-depth look at certain aspects or sectors of service delivery. A 2016 study, “Enhancing Access to Education: Challenges and Opportunities in Afghanistan” by Barnett Rubin and Clancy Rudeforth from the Center on International Cooperation (CIC) at New York University found (5) that “Taleban policies and practices with respect to education remain inconsistent,” but it pointed out that:

The Taliban have released several statements in support of education in recent years[6], and several teachers working in Taliban-influenced areas have described a relative improvement in education delivery since 2011. This comes partly as a result of Taliban monitoring of teacher attendance. […] And yet, in districts under Taliban control, availability and quality of education remain poor. Restrictions on girls’ education are still widespread. Direct attacks against educators and schools are no longer systematic, but they still happen. The Taliban sometimes use school closures as a bargaining tactic to exert control over the education sector, or as leverage over unrelated issues.

The CIC research also suggested that:

[L]ocal Taliban are more likely to support education if they perceive control of the curriculum, distribution of MoE funds, teacher hiring and placement, monitoring of attendance and performance and health and security arrangements at and around maktabs[non-religious schools] or designated learning spaces. This perceived control is often the result of local political settlements between Taliban and education providers, agreed with dialogue and mediation assistance from elders and ulama.

AREUs’ 2016 study on education and health (quoted earlier) which focused on three provinces, Wardak, Badghis and Balkh, found:

[T]he primary objective of the insurgents is not, however, to close schools, but rather to co-opt them. The Taliban try to assert control over schools through deals with local MoE officials: the schools stay open, but changes are made to the curriculum, with the Taliban being allowed to inspect the schools regularly. The Taliban claim that in Wardak, such deals extend to 17 percent of all schools, while in Badghis, the rate is 13 percent. As of 2013, no such deals had been implemented in Balkh.

As to health services, although the Taleban do not see this sector as politically controversial, AREU says they have

…gradually evolved a policy of asserting control over the sector through their own registration system. NGOs and government clinics have been asked to treat the Taliban and allow facility inspections to ensure that they were not being used for “spying” purposes; in the event of a refusal, violence and bans have sometimes occurred.

The most recent studies, like the 2018 Oversees Development Institute’s study, “Life Under the Taliban Shadow Government” by Ashley Jackson, offer a broad-stroke assessment of service delivery in the Taleban controlled area. The ODI research, which was carried out across a number of districts in Wardak, Kunduz, Laghman, Logar, Helmand, Kandahar, Uruzgan and Zabul provinces, concludes that “Taliban governance does not supplant the Afghan government but co-opts and augments it, resulting in a hybrid service delivery arrangement.” On education, the study said that the Taliban “have capitalised on the fact that so many schools suffer from such high levels of corruption and dysfunction (teachers do not show up, textbooks are sold rather than distributed),” and that the majority of interviewees said that they “felt that the Taliban had improved the running of the government education system.” The Taleban are often in direct contact with the NGOs that provide health services, the ODI research found, adding that this contact is “usually initiated by the Taliban when there is a specific issue to discuss.”

The ODI research also offers some insight on mobile service and electricity supply. The research said that “the Taliban claim to exert control over at least a quarter of the mobile grid,” and also that “in at least seven provinces the Taliban are collecting on the vast majority of electricity bills.” This needs to be put into context. Of the 89 per cent of households in Afghanistan who reported to the 2013-2014 Living Conditions Survey that they had some kind of access to electricity, only 29.7 per cent received their power from the grid. It is not clear from the ODI research in which districts the Taleban are collecting these electricity bills. The study also said:

Private cell phone companies appear to routinely pay taxes, which they often negotiate locally and in Dubai. They are also subject to Taliban regulation of their services. This entails dictating when cell phone services should be provided, with the most common stipulation being that they be shut down after dark… The government mobile provider, Salam, is banned in Taliban areas, and the Taliban check mobile phones for Salam sim cards. Being caught with one will likely result in the card being destroyed and the owner being beaten.

All of these studies point out that, although inconsistent and arbitrarily provided, service-delivery is a vital part of Taleban governance in areas under their control. (7) In order to understand how these services are delivered in different parts of country, AAN decided to conduct a series of six case study, informed by the literature reviewed in the previous sections and using a methodology outlined below.

How we did the research: methodology

For this series of case studies, AAN combined two research methods: desk research and semi-structured interviews with key informants.

As samples, AAN chose districts from six provinces that represent five key regions of the country – the northeast, southeast, east, south and west and which and under varying levels of influence by the insurgency. The selection criteria have been further guided by AAN’s in-house resources and access in terms of the contacts and familiarity of AAN researchers with specific districts. That is, AAN sought to identify districts from different parts of Afghanistan in which the insurgency has between some and considerable influence, but that remain accessible enough so that a high standard of qualitative research can be conducted. Based on this, AAN selected the following provinces and districts for this study:

1. In the north: Kunduz province; Dasht-e Archi district
2. In the southeast: Ghazni province; Andar district
3.  In the south: Helmand province; Nad-e Ali district
4. In the west: Herat province; Obeh district
5. In the east: Nangrahar province; Achin district
6. In the central highlands: Maidan Wardak; Jalrez district

From the desk research, AAN developed a profile for each district after consulting various government and non-government sources, including interviewing people working in government line ministries and NGOs providing services. The aim here was to get basic information about the district (size, type of land and agriculture, demographics, transport links senior government and Taleban officials) and service deliveries (such as the number and type of schools and medical facilities, mobile phone providers and sources of electricity, number and level of access of teachers and medical staff, and for public service goods, such as school books and medical supplies).

After drawing up the profiles, AAN conducted 10 in-depth interviewswith key informants in each district, based on a semi-structured questionnaire, itself developed following a review of the relevant literature. To get information that reflects the complexities of governance in Taleban-controlled areas, key informants from communities under study were carefully selected; they included tribal elders, respected individuals in the districts, civil society activists and journalists. They were interviewed either in person or over the phone, using the semi-structured questionnaire, which was divided into five thematic areas:

1.  Basic information about the district
2.  Education services
3.  Health services
4.  Telecommunication and electricity services
5.  Other services available

The aim then was to triangulate the desk-study data (to the best extent possible, given limitations of access and of information) about government services with the qualitative descriptions of perceptions and experiences collected through the semi-structured interviews to produce each case study in this series.

Looking ahead to the case studies

As this dispatch was published, the results of our research were still coming in. Nonetheless, from the first two finalised case studies (Obeh district of Herat province and Dasht-e Archi of Kunduz province), which will be published this month, we are already getting interesting empirical evidence about what AAN’s Said Reza Kazemi describes as an “unstable, hybrid form of governance.” This not only concerns the methods and extent of the Taleban’s co-option of services, but also how local populations negotiate or try to find ways around Taleban requirements. For example, after the Taleban banned men from teaching girls in Obeh, in those areas where there were no women teachers, local people found female high school graduates to teach and so kept girls schools open. AAN research is also pointing to a sort of pragmatism on the part of some government officials in dealing with the Taleban to keep services running. Again, in Obeh, local education officials have sought to place teachers ‘acceptable’ to the Taleban in areas under their control. From the two finalised case studies, a pattern appears to be emerging, as well, of both government officials and Taleban extracting ‘rent’ from some but not all services (in the form of taking bribes, pocketing the bogus salaries of non-existent workers and ‘taxation’).

With so many Afghans now living in areas under Taleban influence or control, the affect of this on the education of children, the health of people and their access to electricity and to social media and national broadcasters or just the phone are all important topics of research. Our six district case studies are aimed at helping understand these dynamics. We hope the granular nature of these studies will clarify how coherent Taleban policy on the various services is. We also hope they will help unpick local particularities, pointing to what drives the differences in how the Taleban control services to those living under their dominion.

Edited by Thomas Ruttig and Sari Kouvo

 

(1) The Taleban’s website has a list of working commissions and their contact details. AAN contacted the Taleban commissions for agriculture, the disabled, power distribution and education using the numbers listed on their website to ask about the policy they are implementing and in how many districts in the country they are implementing this policy. However, most of the phone numbers were not working or were answered by common people. For example, of the two numbers listed for the education commission, one was not working, and the other number was answered by a woman, not related to the Taleban. The agriculture commission’s contact was answered by a person speaking Dari and sitting in a very busy place, judging by the background noise. The person who answered the phone for the department for power distribution told AAN that they help NGOs and the Ministry of Energy and Water to collect taxes.

(2) In Uruzgan, the Taleban were able to temporarily close down 46 of the province’s 49 clinics in summer 2017, reportedly after their demand for special treatment for their wounded fighters was turned down.

(3) SIGAR currently deploys Resolute Support criteria to categorise the ‘stability’ of districts, with five categories: under insurgent control, under insurgent influence, neutral, under government influence and under government control. This method considers such issues as who governs, who gets taxes, who controls infrastructure and who controls ‘messaging’ – see page 5 of this report for further explanation).

The BBC split districts into those where the government at least controlled the district centre (under government control) and those which it did not (under Taleban control). Of those controlled by the government, it split them into three categories: those with a ‘high active and open Taleban presence’ (defined as suffering at least two attacks a week during the research period; a ‘medium open Taleban presence’ (attacked at least three times a month) and; a ‘low open Taleban presence’ (attacked once in three months). (This excluded attacks on urban centres which the BBC dealt with separately.)

(4) This was why, when the Islamic State in Khorasan Province (ISKP) ordered the closure of government clinics (and schools) in Nangrahar and threatened health workers there in 2015, it was so shocking. As David Mansfield put it in the AREU February 2016 publication, “The Devil is in the Details: Nangarhar’s Continued Decline into Insurgency, Violence and Widespread Drug Production” ISKP breached the normal Afghan ‘rules of war’:

… Daesh are understood [by Nangarharis] to have broken local mores with their brutality and their failure to recognise the needs of the local population, including with the closure of schools and clinics, and their prohibition of the production and trade of opium and marijuana.

See also AAN reporting here.

(5) For the Taleban’s past education policies, see also “Schools on the Frontline: The struggle over education in the Afghan wars” by Thomas Ruttig, a chapter in a forthcoming book: Fereschta Sahrai, Uwe H Bittlingmayer et al (eds) Education and Development in Afghanistan: Challenges & Prospects,Global Studies, Transcript Verlag, Bielefeld:

When the Taleban swept to power in an area, their commanders often used to replicate Bacha-ye Saqao’s approach from 1929: they almost automatically closed down schools, particularly girls’ schools. After they captured Kabul in 1996, they shut down 63 schools within three months there alone, “affecting 103,000 girls, 148,000 boys and 11,200 teachers, of whom 7,800 were women”; they also temporarily shut down Kabul University. In some areas, girl schools were altered into boy schools (Najimi 1997: 6). Even if they did not close the schools, the ban for women teachers to work also affected them, as they had also taught at boy schools. “By December 1998, UNICEF reported that the country’s educational system was in a state of total collapse with nine in ten girls and two in three boys not enrolled in school” (Rashid 2000: 108). It further estimated that at that point “only 4 to 5 per cent of primary aged children g[o]t a broad based schooling, and for secondary and higher education the picture is even bleaker” (Clark 2000).

It is worth pointing out, however, that the Taleban policy on banning girls’ education was never as complete as usually reported. In 2000, AAN’s Kate Clark visited a functioning school in Kabul city, with classrooms and blackboards, run by Afghan women, and one in a village in Kabul province, run by Care International. The Taleban were turning a blind eye to such endeavours, although everyone was aware that they could close down such schools in an instant. Schooling for young girls was – then as now – much more possible than for teenage girls.

(6) The CIC report quotes a statement released by the Taleban’s Commission for Training, Learning and Higher Education on 13 January 2016, saying it “reiterated support for ‘modern education’ [as the Taleban term non-madrassa schooling] based on the following principles”:

• Education, teaching, learning and studying the religion [are] basic human needs.
• The Taliban in accordance with its comprehensive policy has established a Commission [to] … pursue, implement and advance its education policy.
• The Commission seeks growth to all educational sectors inside and outside the country, be they Islamic such as religious Madaris, Dar-ul-Hifaz, village level Madaris, up to legal Islamic expertise; or be they modern primary, intermediate and high schools, universities or specialist and higher education institutions.
• For the development of these institutions, if any countryman seeks to build a private institution, the Commission will welcome their effort and lend all necessary help available.
• To raise the education level and standardize these institutions the Commission will welcome and gladly accept the views, advice and constructive proposals of religious scholars, teachers and specialists in religious and modern sciences.
• The Commission seeks … to encourage and motivate the sons of this nation towards educational institutions and to give special attention to creating opportunities for educational facilities at village level.
• The Commission has provincial level and district level officials who will execute all educational plans and programs in their respected areas. All the respected countrymen will be able to gain access to them regarding affairs of education.

(7) For further reading on the Taleban movement and how it has evolved over time, see:

Willam Maley (ed) Fundamentalism Reborn? Afghanistan and the Taliban, London, C Hurst & Co Publishers 1998

Peter Marsden, The Taliban: War, Religion and the New Order in Afghanistan, London, Zed Books 2002

Antonio Giustozzi (ed) Decoding the New Taliban: Insights from the Afghan Field, London, C Hurst Co Publishers 2009

Ahmed Rashid Taliban: The Power of Militant Islam in Afghanistan and Beyond, London, IB Tauris 2010

Alex Strick Van Linschoten and Felix Kuehn (eds) My Life with the Taliban, Abdul Salam Zaeef, London, C Hurst & Co Publishers 2010

Alex Strick Van Linschoten and Felix Kuehn An Enemy We Created. The Myth About the Taliban-Al Qaeda Merger in Afghanistan, Oxford, Oxford University Press 2012

Peter Bergen (ed) Talibanistan: Negotiating the Borders between Terror, Politics, and Religion, Oxford and New York, Oxford University Press 2013

Anand Gopal No Good Men Among the Living: America, the Taliban, and the War through Afghan Eyes, New York, Metropolitan Books 2014

Anand Gopal and Alex Strick van Linschoten “Ideology in the Afghan Taliban” Kabul, AAN 2017,

Alex Strick Van Linschoten and Felix Kuehn (eds) The Taliban Reader. War, Islam and PoliticsOxford, Oxford University Press 2018

 

 

President Ashraf Ghani updated peace plan, presented at the Geneva Conference on Afghanistan on 28 November, the 13th international Afghanistan conference since 2001, built on the February 2018 Kabul Process proposals. Ghani foresees a five-phase approach to consultations and five years of implementation. At the same time, these proposals represent an attempt to reassert the Afghan government’s role in a peace process that has barely commenced, not least due to the Taleban’s refusal to negotiate with Kabul, and when the process remains dominated by the US agenda. AAN’s co-director, Thomas Ruttig, analyses the document, while also considering the Taleban’s most recent statement at the Afghanistan conference in Moscow (with input by Jelena Bjelica from Geneva).

Afghanistan’s government is seeking a “peace agreement” with the Afghan Taleban, who, if they agreed “would be included in a democratic and inclusive society.” This is the key statement of an evolved plan, a “road map for peace negotiations” as President Ghani called it when he presented it to the Geneva conference’s main session, a minister-level meeting with representatives of 90 donor governments and multilateral organisations on 28 November 2018 (see an AAN primer on the conference here and the Afghan government’s official concept paper for the conference here). A three-page document, titled “Achieving Peace: The Next Chapter in the Afghan-led Peace Process,” was published summarising the proposals.(1)

Ghani’s Geneva peace proposals are not called a new plan, but rather a “new chapter” to an existing one. These build on and modify elements of earlier proposals and plans – including Ghani’s “unconditional” peace proposals as laid out in a speech at the second meeting of the “Kabul Process for Peace and Security Cooperation in Afghanistan” held in the Afghan capital on 28 February 2018 and in its final declaration (full text here and AAN analysis here). The Kabul Process 2 meeting is was a senior officials meeting attended by donor and regional governments.

The plan’s main content

Ghani’s proposals for a “new chapter in the Afghan-led peace process” consists of three main elements: four ‘tenets’, in which main principles for peace are reiterated; five “phases” of consultations with various domestic and international actors involved in the current war, both or either militarily and politically; and a five-year implementation period. It also prominently speaks about the relationship between a peace process and the April 2019 Afghan presidential elections.

The president started the introduction of his updated plan with the reiteration of four “tenets” under which the Taleban would be included in a “democratic and inclusive society.” This, in itself, is already a ‘tenet’, as it is far from clear that the Taleban would agree to the term ‘democratic’ and how they would define ‘inclusive.’ Ghani emphasised that these tenets came out of “extensive consultations over the past eight months with diverse groups of Afghans.” He particularly referred to his own meetings: “For the past eight months, I have listened to men women from all strata and all over the country, in Kabul, but also the provinces in my trips. ”Actually, the tenets represent the much-debated ‘red lines’ or ‘conditions’ – although these terms are not used – behind which the government vows not to fall back in any future negotiations.

Ghani had already laid out these tenets in his speech at the February Kabul Process meeting (in its Pashto part, see here) – here in the Geneva version:

1. The Constitutional rights and obligations, of all citizens, especially women, are ensured.
2. The Constitution is accepted, or amendments proposed through the constitutional provision[s].
3. The Afghan National Defense and Security Forces and civil service function according to law.
4. No armed groups with ties to transnational terrorist networks or transnational criminal organizations, or with ties to state/non-state actors, seeking influence in Afghanistan will be allowed to join the political process.

Tenet no 3 is probably the only one which the Taleban would agree to without much discussion. They have made it clear in earlier track II meetings that they are interested in keeping Afghanistan’s security forces functioning and to avoid their breakdown (see in this AAN analysis). Tenet 4 is mainly a US demand (although surely widely shared among the Afghan population), namely that the Taleban guarantee to break all relations with al-Qaeda and associated terrorist groups. This does not seem to be unrealistic, although the Taleban have so far avoided in distancing themselves from those groups in public.

The focus on the constitution could prove more problematic, as the Taleban reject it. In their statement at the mid-November Moscow Conference on Afghanistan organised by the Russian foreign ministry (also known as Moscow format consultations; transcript here) they stated that the constitution had been

[…] copied from the West and has been imposed on Afghanistan’s Muslim society under the shadow of occupation. It can neither respond to the desires of the Afghans nor can be implemented, as its provisions are vague and contradictory with each other. […] So, the current constitution in its present version is a major obstacle to peace.

In the Taleban’s view, it needs to be substantially ‘reformed’ based on Sharia principles (read AAN analysis here) or even re-drafted (see Moscow statement).

Not really new is the idea off a “five-phase approach” of consultations of relevant domestic and international actors, ie with the Taleban and other relevant Afghan political (and social?) groups (“intra-Afghan dialogue”) ,“with Pakistan and the United States” as key players in the conflict, with “regional actors, the Arab-Islamic world,” and NATO and non-NATO countries, ie current and, hopefully, future donors. The latter two groups are required to work out an “implementation plan for a post-peace Afghanistan” and fund it, and to “secure the international and regional guarantees required to sustain peace.”

Ghani also said that there should be confidence-building measures in the first year, without giving more detail or saying who should start. The Taleban had their ideas about this laid out in Moscow, too, there called “preliminary steps for peace” that included: the removal of the UN (and possibly other) sanctions list against them; the release of Taleban detainees; a formal (re-)opening of their political office in Qatar (AAN analysis here), and a stop to what they call “poisonous propaganda against the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan”. This refers to incidents they see themselves being blamed for without proof, such as “blowing [up] bridges, spraying acid on school students, [plant]ing road side [bombs against] civilian vehicles, abducting people and committing other crimes.”

What was entirely new in Ghani’s Geneva speech was that he envisages that the “implementation of the peace process” will require “minimally […] five years.” This corresponds with the next president’s tenure (he will hope his own one).

However, the links between the three main elements in Ghani’s updated peace plan – the ‘tenets’, the five phases of consultations and the implementation period – remain unclear. For example, it is left open as to whether the implementation phase refers to Ghani’s peace plan, or a future peace agreement – and, if the latter, whether the president has an idea as to how quickly this can be achieved. Zalmay Khalilzad, the US special representative for Afghanistan reconciliation(about his role more below), for example, was more outspoken on this point in a recent radio interview where he said he would

[…] hope that the Taliban and Afghans would use the election date as a deadline to achieve a peace agreement before then.[…] Ideally, of course, it would be good to have an agreement with the Taliban first, and then have the presidential election, because then the Talibs will also participate in a possible election, or whatever road map the Afghans agree to.

The Afghan government’s message on its peace proposals had been carefully threaded in the readouts and bilateral statements at the Geneva conference. The readouts from side meetings and side events all included references to the peace process, mainly as a consideration on how a development agenda would accommodate it (see here the video recording of the readouts from side meetings, side events; as well as bilateral statements; statements by representatives of partner governments; as well as the Afghan civil society joint statement, see here and here). On 29 November 2018, the day following the conference, a meeting was held between representatives from Afghan non-governmental organisations (NGO), UN agencies, donors and international NGOs based in Afghanistan and/or Geneva on the so-called triple nexus approach, ie interlinkages between humanitarian, development and peace actors (for more background see here). This meeting aimed at kicking off a national dialogue on the triple nexus – tailored for Afghanistan and to include all relevant stakeholders.

Downgrading the High Peace Council

Furthermore, Ghani announced that “the required bodies and mechanisms to pursue a peace agreement” have been formed now. First, there is a new 12-member negotiating team led by presidential chief of staff, Salam Rahimi. It also comprises three women and a former deputy Taleban minister, Abdul Hakim Munib, He is also the highest-ranking ex-Taleb ever in a post-2001 government position, first as provincial governor of Uruzgan and, currently, as deputy minister for religious and Haj affairs. (2)

Secondly, a new “peace advisory board” comprising of nine committees will be established. It will “provide direction” to the negotiating team and “ensure consensus.”Nine committees will represent key political and social groups: political leaders, political parties; youth; women; religious scholars; provincial leaders (which might give a role to the elected provincial councils); civil society: the private sector; refugees and the diaspora. There seems to be a possible overlap between some of these groups, as most political leaders who are often consulted by the president are also party leaders; the same goes for some leading ulema.

At the same time, the role of the High Peace Council (HPC) has been significantly cut down. “On their own request […], it will be restructured to focus on public awareness and provide advice regarding post-peace scenarios.” Ie, there will be no HPC role in the negotiations itself. This controversial body, formally in charge of negotiations (see its role in the 2016 peace deal with Hezb-e Islami had been established by ex-President Hamed Karzai in 2010 and already had been significantly reorganised in 2016 (read AAN analysis here and here).

Two members of the HPC’s Executive Board of Advisors have made it into the negotiating team: Attaullah Ludin, a long-time commander of Hezb-e Islami (but currently not in Hekmatyar’s faction) and Hasina Safi, who went from director of the Afghan Women’s Network, to culture and information minister. The two other women are Shahgul Rezayi, a young Hazara MP from Ghazni, who did not run again this year, and deputy refugee minister, Dr Alema (one name only), who has a western education, both from the old East and now reunited Germany. Conspicuously missing from the negotiations team is the HPC’s vice chair, Habiba Sarobi, the most high-profile and senior woman there, so far (Rezayi and Safi are much younger). It remains to be seen whether she will stay on the reformed peace council instead and use her experience gathered on the body over the last years and contribute to working out post-agreement scenarios.

All members have leading posts in government, parliament, the Supreme Court or the Ulema Council. This ensures the government’s prerogative over any negotiations, although a continuing role of the Afghan intelligence service and the National Security Council can be assumed.

The context

Recent United States initiatives toward a negotiated end to the Afghan war and a withdrawal of its troops from the country had lent new urgency to the Afghan government’s peace efforts. These efforts had been given new impetus during the February 2018 Kabul Process meeting, after initial initiatives – immediately after his election in 2014 Ghani had sought China’s and Pakistan’s support. This resulted in the Quadrilateral Coordination Group (Afghanistan, Pakistan, China and U.S. – AAN analysis here) and the 2015 Murree talks – had faltered (AAN analysis here).

In 2018, Ghani achieved a ceasefire over the Eid festival in mid-June, which the Taleban also joined in with. It was widely applauded, not least among Afghans of all sides. AAN wrote that it allowed them “to imagine their country at peace “for the first time after almost two decades of a new phase in its 40 years’ wars. However, nothing more followed. The Taleban rebuked an ambitious three-months’ follow-up ceasefire offer by the government, as they did not want to give the government carte blanche for the parliamentary elections in October. More generally, they continue to refuse to sit and talk, or even officially negotiate with the Afghan government that they label as “American puppets” and “impotent” in their reaction to Ghani’s proposals.

Khalilzad, the (not so) new US government’s special envoy (3), and other high-ranking US officials, including principal deputy assistant secretary of state in charge of South and Central Asian affairs, Alice Wells, held various rounds of direct talks with Taleban representatives at their political office in Doha, Qatar earlier this year (media reports here and here). Washington called these talks preliminary and vowed that they were designed to facilitate the entry into them of the Afghan government as a third party. (The Taleban used the word “ exploratory; see here.) US Secretary of State Mike Pompeo said in Kabul in July 2018 “we can’t run the peace talks.“Wells added after a meeting with Taliban representatives later that month in Qatar that “Any negotiations over the political future of Afghanistan will be between the Taliban and Afghan government,” and that the US was “exploring all avenues to advance a peace process in close consultation with the Afghan government” (quoted here). After her March 2018 trip to Kabul she already said: “We certainly cannot substitute for the Afghan government and the Afghan people.”

Envoy Khalalzad’s modus operandi, however, created concerns in the Afghan government that it might be sidelined and/or even left out of a bilateral US-Taleban deal. In October 2018, the New York Times quoted Afghan officials as saying that President Ghani had “repeatedly expressed concern and resistance to American officials about the prospect of talks that did not include his government” and reacted “furiously” when he learned about Khalilzad’s first meeting with the Taleban, not from him, but through a Taleban statement, although he just had visited Kabul before.

Indeed, there already seemed to have been talk about substance at Doha (and Khalilzad’s meetings elsewhere); namely, about the issue of the withdrawal of the US troops from Afghanistan – the Taleban’s main demand – and a schedule for it (read the Taleban statement about their meeting with Khalilzad on 12 October 2018 here). Notably, the Taleban representatives at the mid-November Moscow Conference on Afghanistan in Moscow – the same group who met Wells and Khalilzad, from their Qatar office – had told Russian media in an interview there that before the so-called intra-Afghan talks (ie between them and the government)

[…] the American side should guarantee and they should fix a timetable for the withdrawal of their forces […], than it is possible [to hold talks] with the Afghan side also.

The Taleban also confirmed that the discussions also touched upon what they called an “end to the occupation” as well as removing their leaders from sanctions lists.

The Afghan government had misgivings about this meeting and reportedly insisted it must be in the lead while, in its view, the meeting would boost the international standing of the Taleban. It decided to not officially participate. The US initially concurred. This led to the postponement of the meeting originally scheduled for 4 September 2018 (media report here). Finally, however, the US sent Moscow-based diplomats, as “observers”, not participants. On the Afghan side, Afghanistan’s High Peace Council (HPC), which is formally independent, but acts based on guidance from the Afghan government sent a delegation. (It had, with its deputy chair, Habiba Sarobi, the only woman at the conference table.) Also, Kabul’s ambassador to Russia, Abdul Qayum Kochi, an uncle of the president, was seen in their midst during the conference (photo here).

Further misgivings in Afghanistan’s government were created by the intensive, weeks’ long discussion about a possible delay of the Afghan presidential election scheduled for 20 April 2018 in Kabul this autumn. This involved diplomats, the UN, as well as young generation leaders of Afghan civil society and political organisations that both overlap. The issue was reportedly also pondered by the country’s Independent Electoral Commission (IEC) (media report here).

The Wall Street Journal had reported on 13 November that “[t]he Trump administration is discussing whether to press the Afghan government to suspend coming presidential elections, according to people briefed on the discussions” and that the idea had been “raised by U.S. special envoy Zalmay Khalilzad in talks with various stakeholders and intermediaries.” According to this report, he “has suggested that a postponement of the elections could be a component of the peace process.” Ghani, meanwhile, had repeatedly insisted that the election in which he has said he we will run again was held on time, according with the constitution (this would be the first such election in post-2001 Afghanistan). He highlighted this in his Geneva speech again, when he said the next presidential election was “key to successful peace negotiations“, as it would provide “the elected government with a mandate to obtain ratification, implement the peace agreement, and lead the societal reconciliation process.”

Khalilzad and others, however, had suggested that elections could create a fait accompli that would complicate a possible agreement with the Taleban and further harden their stance  – as they have consistently rejected to join the current political system, at least unless it is ‘reformed’ (see this AAN analysis). In order to circumvent a situation in which elections are postponed in breech of the constitution without an alternative, the option of an interim government or council was introduced into the discussion. In the best case, this argument went, Taleban representatives could join it, making it the premise of negotiations. (An interim government is also the choice of a large array of Ghani’s domestic political opponents, who do not trust the electoral institutions, but also eyeing a larger political role. This includes ex-President Karzai, who is blocked from becoming head of state again under the current constitution (more AAN analysis here).

Part of this equation is that the US – as Khalilzad confirmed in his 28 November 2018 radio interview already quoted above – is “in a hurry” for peace in Afghanistan. This is not least driven by a fear of US President Donald Trump’s short fuse, not only when it comes to Afghanistan. In 2013, he had tweeted that “Our troops are being killed by the Afghanis [sic] we train and we waste billions there,” and “We are building roads and schools for people that hate us. It is not in our national interests.” Once in charge, however, he has been forced to change his mind: “[T]he consequences of a rapid exit are both predictable and unacceptable… A hasty withdrawal would create a vacuum that terrorists, including ISIS and al Qaeda, would instantly fill, just as happened before September 11th” (AAN analysis here). However, after his election, in an announcement on 21 August 2017, he reiterated that his“original instinct […] was to pull out” (see the transcript of this speech here). AAN heard from a number of both current and former diplomats in Kabul that they fear that these ‘original instincts’ prevail in Trump’s thinking and might erupt into a pullout decision, if things did not go well in Afghanistan.

However, one day before Ghani spoke in Geneva, the country’s IEC drew a line under such discussions and declared 20 April 2019 as the final election date. This did not happen by accident, but can read as a clear statement by the Palace in Kabul, as the commission is independent only in name (it has been appointed by the president, although after input and consultation with various political groups, mainly the ‘Abdullah camp’ in the National Unity Government, the NUG – AAN analysis here). President Ghani was obviously concerned that the ‘Afghan-lead’ in the ‘peace process’ – often declared, but often overruled by other agendas – might even be further undermined, if elections are not held in time.

Domestic dissent…

One problem for Ghani is that there is no consensus about peace talks and a power sharing with the Taleban, at least in the political class. He indirectly admits this by giving the new peace advisory board the task to “ensure consensus” in the wider society. The range of issues starts from whether there should be ‘red lines’ for negotiations – for example, on democratic, minorities’ and women’s rights – or not, and, if so, which ones to the debate about, whether the Taleban represent parts of the Afghan society or are nothing but “terrorists” and a tool of Pakistan, meaning that talks should be held with Pakistan and not them.

Based on the latter reasons, there is a very articulate constituency that opposestalks with the Taleban in the first place. The most vocal among them is former NDS chief, Amrullah Saleh, who, on a podium at Kabul’s Afghanistan Institute of Strategic Studies (AISS) on 8 November, made clear he did not think there was a difference between the Taleban and the local chapter of the Islamic State and that negotiating with them was “connecting with terrorists.”Former Afghan deputy defence minister and Director General at the Afghan National Security Council Tamim Asey wrote in an op-ed for the Small Wars Journal that “the Afghan Taliban have not changed and […] still serves as an umbrella organization to many terrorist organizations including Al Qaeda and provide them an enabling environment to plan, train and equip for their next deadly missions in the subcontinent and beyond.”

Saleh also doubted that there was any unified “peace process”, nor that it was “Afghan led.” Instead, he said, there were “twelve different countries” running their own ‘processes’. He quoted another strong opponent of Taleban talks, former foreign minister and Karzai advisor, Rangin Dadfar Spanta, who helped set up AISS (and was in the audience) as saying there was only agreement “about one word, peace – everything else is disputed” (a video of his speech here). Former Afghan deputy defence minister and Director General at the Afghan National Security Asey also made his mistrust of the US and NATO’s role visible in his op-ed, writing that both were “in a rush to a graceful exit for its forces with political cover claiming a successful conclusion to the Afghan war.”

It is not clear how large this group’s support is amongst the population. (4) However, it has significant potential to mobilise and link up with other groups and sections of the population who reject the Taleban for their many years’ use of terrorist means and the still large number of civilian casualties inflicted by them as exemplified by the recent Taleban offensive in the south-eastern Hazarajat which involved alleged killings and mass displacement (AAN analysis here and here).

There is also no consensus about the often-heard posit that ‘there is no military solution,’ including in the government. Hamdullah Moheb, the new chairman of the Afghan National Security Council said as much at a reception for foreign media on 21 October 2018 (which was attended by AAN). This is also shared by a number of civil society activists. The Taleban offensive in Hazarajat has deepened both positions – ‘no talks’ and ‘military solution.’

The consultations mentioned by Ghani in Geneva have clearly not overcome the problem of the lacking consensus. This has not only been highlighted by Saleh, but also, for example, Helena Malekyar, an Afghan analyst, who had also been involved in the post-Bonn political process. In a co-authored op-ed for Turkish media she wrote that “to achieve a comprehensive and sustainable peace, first and foremost, all Afghans must feel ownership of the process“ – clearly doubting this was the case – and warned against an deal approved only by the “stamp“ of the “mostly irrelevant old guard.” In Geneva itself, the joint statement of Afghan civil society, presented by two delegates of a group of ten officially invited to the conference and elected in Kabul, sent a strong message by calling the “peace deal” envisaged by the US “a quick fix” and “not sustainable.” One of the ten official Afghan civil society delegates, Suraya Pakzad of Women’s Voice organisation, was quoted as saying “We are concerned that women [rights] will be sacrifices for peace.“

It is also not clear how inclusive those consultations have been. In his Geneva speech, Ghani only referred to his own meetings that are usually attended by handpicked participants. There are also widespread general doubts about how inclusive Ghani’s approach is. AAN heard from those involved in an earlier phase of consultations, immediately after his takeover as president, that it was mainly Ghani who spoke in such meetings. This left little time for those consulted who were then asked to provide their input in writing, which then remained without reply.

… and the issue of elections

Ghani’s hope for his new legitimacy through the April 2019 presidential election might be problematic. If those elections are as poorly organised and conducted as the October 2018 parliamentary polls were (read AAN analysis here) and end with a disputed result similar to that of 2014 (which led to the creation of the unbeloved NUG), the government’s legitimacy might suffer even further and weaken its position vis-à-vis the Taleban.

It would require a miracle if even only the most important shortcomings in the country’s electoral institutions could be sorted out in the extremely short time of under five months remains (for the many shortcomings, see AAN’s Election Conundrum series here). This includes an eventual reshuffle of the IEC that, as rumours in Kabul go, is under discussion, which would require consensus about new personnel in a highly disunited and mutually suspicious government led by two (possible) contenders of the elections this commission is to conduct. Experience shows that this could take many more months. Apart from this, the post-parliamentary elections process of counting and adjudication is still in full swing, its length exacerbated by a series of delays. It might well go on early into the new year 2019 and interfere with the necessary preparation of the April presidential poll.

Conclusion: It needs three to talk

There is one big gap in President Ghani’s ‘new chapter’ in the peace process: the Afghan government is nowhere in the lead, as yet, as the envisaged partner is lacking – the Taleban. So far, only the Taleban and the US are talking to each other. It does not lie in the hands of the Afghan government to overcome this hurdle.

The current constellation means only the US can make the Afghan government the third party to peace talks, but many Afghans – including President Ghani – do not trust the US and, particularly the hast, and way in which the new envoy Khalilzad operates. (To be sure, there are also many Afghans who believe he is just the right man for it.) These Afghans fear that the US might ‘sell’ them to the Taleban, or simply conclude a ‘deal’ that formally ends the war and allows the US to pull out its troops, preferably rather sooner than later, without thinking too much about the implementation, monitoring and financing of post-peace arrangements.

For example, it can be expected that, after a peace agreement, many of the current 350,000 government police and army soldiers, as well as tens of thousands of Taleban fighters need to be demobilised and reintegrated into civilian life. This need to happen in a sustainable way so that the ex-fighters do not see themselves compelled to take up arms again to ensure their livelihoods once the initial reintegration packages are petering out – and this in an economy that already lacks many permanent jobs for its large work force. Also, the experience of the post-Bonn DDR and DIAG programmes left behind a multitude of former fighters who have been readily recruited into new auxiliary forces or militia-like armed groups over the past 17 years (AAN analysis here).

Therefore, what Ghani has laid out in Geneva was more a declaration of intent, of principles, and of red lines (the latter, without calling them that), rather than a ‘road map’ or a ‘peace plan.’ With his proposals and the IEC decision a day earlier about the 20 April 2019 presidential election date, he tried to get a grip on the steering wheel of the peace process that has barely commenced and has not been Afghan-led, so far.

It could also be argued that none of the parties to the conflict actually should be in the lead of a peace process and that it would be better to have ‘third-party’ mediation or facilitation (here: fourth-party, as the US is the third party in the conflict and also cannot play that role). This does not mean that the government cannot take the initiative and push the process forward.The successful June 2018 ceasefire has proven this.

For some time now, a futile blockage has existed. It has been created, on the one hand, by the Taleban’s refusal to negotiate with the Afghan government and, on the other hand, the government’s repeated attempts to deny the Taleban the status of a recognised party to the process by preventing them from participating in peace-talks-related meetings and conferences. This blockage pervaded three meetings in late 2017 (AAN reporting here) and again for Tashkent in March 2018 (media report here), but not in Moscow in November 2018.  Other peace processes (as experienced in Colombia or the Philippines) show there is no way around accepting an entrenched insurgent group as a negotiating partner with a degree of support and/or hold over territory, if peace is to be negotiated. Negotiating does not mean their recognition as a second government. The Taleban, of course, can overcome this problem, if they agree to talk with the government.

It is unquestionable that there are three parties to the Afghan war, to end it and to organise the post-war Afghan society, namely: the internationally recognised and supported Afghan government; its largest donor and supporter, the US; and the Taleban. The Taleban, who also would be much less strong without their external support, both logistically and financially, need to understand and accept that the Afghan government will not go away soon – even though it remains almost totally dependent on foreign financial support (despite some increases in domestic revenue highlighted in Geneva) and, to a large extent, military support. It would soon run into trouble, particularly without US troops and money. (At the moment, it is unable to pay the salaries of its 350,000 policemen and army soldiers, before even talking about the various auxiliary forces.) Also, socio-economically the country is on a backwards path, so that a solution for the financial gap is still elusive. The poverty rate has relapsed back to levels at the immediate post-Taleban rate of almost 55 per cent (AAN analysis here). (5)

Although President Trump’s personal temptation to pull out of Afghanistan might be strong, it is difficult to see how he would do so before a peace agreement, as anything else would jeopardise the US’s last 17 years’ investment ‘in blood and money’. (Some US analysts also argue, by the way, that the Afghan war merely represents one per cent of the US military budget and pulling out would hardly lead to massive savings.)

There are also visible entry points around which the current mutual Kabul-Taleban blockade could be overcome, without forcing both parties to give up what they define as their individual main goals. First, there is the US offer, given at the Kabul Process meeting in February 2018, to put troop withdrawal and a timeframe for it onto the agenda of eventual peace talks. This would provide the Taleban with their main goal. The Taleban, in Moscow, said that, after a timeframe and guarantees, are given, ie before a peace deal is finally concluded, they could talk to the government. (Previously, they often said this would only be possible after all foreign troops had gone.) This would fulfil the government’s current main goal – namely direct talks with its involvement. On this, the Taleban can and should be taken by their word in all future talks. Finally, if the two Afghan sides start talking to each other on this basis, the way could be opened for the US to get their desired troop pullout.

Such a scenario still leaves for the government in Kabul plenty to do in a leading role. This would involve: creating consensus about peace talks with the Taleban that do not result in a sell-out on the key rights issues; developing ideas how a post-agreement Afghanistan and “societal reconciliation” (Ghani in Geneva) would look like; and, ensuring that there are resources – both domestic and external – for the implementation of such a peace process. Geneva was barely a beginning.

Edited by Sari Kouvo

 

(1) As this text was finalised, the full speech has become available, here.

(2) Added on 4 Dec 2018: Afghan news agency Ariana quoted Munib on 30 November that he had not been aware of his selection.

(3) Khalilzad, who was born as an Afghan, already played a key role during the first years of what was then called the Bonn process (full text of the Bonn agreement here), as President George W. Bush’s Special Envoy for Afghanistan (December 2001-November 2003) and US ambassador to Afghanistan (November 2003-June 2005).

(4) During the same event, AISS presented a study called “The Fallacy of [the] Peace Process in Afghanistan: The People’s Perspectives” based on 2,000 interviews with Afghans; the majority of them called the peace process so far (which included the current approach to talks with the Taleban) a failure. However, the study found that 80 per cent of respondents wanted peace with the Taleban, 83 per cent believed it was possible and 55 per cent were in favour of making concessions to them. At the same time, only 50 per cent believed the Taleban had the intention to make peace, 73 per cent doubted the Taleban’s ability to effectively govern the country and only 10 per cent found their policies acceptable.

The author of the study, Omar Sadr, also argued in his summary that one of the “fallacies” of the peace process so far was that it amount to “appeasement.” Respondents were not asked such a question though.

(5)  Ghani said 40 per cent in his Geneva speech; but his government had published the higher figure together with the World Bank earlier this year.

 

 

 

The Taleban attacks on Hazara areas in Uruzgan and Ghazni were unprecedented in their reach and led to massive displacement. The attacks indicated a clear shift in the Taleban’s behaviour towards the Hazara areas, stimulating various hypotheses about their motives. In this second part of a series of two dispatches, AAN’s Ali Yawar Adili and Martine van Bijlert (with input from Thomas Ruttig, Fazal Muzhari and Ehsan Qaane) provide in-depth background and analysis of the attacks and their consequences. They conclude that the Taleban had long been planning to advance into the Hazara areas to expand territorial control and increase their revenues.

The Taleban attacks on the Hazara areas in districts within Uruzgan and Ghazni provinces were unprecedented – at least in recent times – in terms of the number of incursions, the number of casualties and the level of coordination (three areas at more or less the same time). The initial attack on the largely self-governing Hazara enclave in the northeast of Khas Uruzgan was in response to a visit by notorious commander Abdul Hakim Shujai (more about him below) – and possibly his behaviour towards Pashtuns while he was there. At the same time, it came in the context of increased pressure by the Taleban on the Hazara population in areas that had so far largely been left alone. Coming at a time when the government and the Taleban are talking about a possible peace process, the Taleban suddenly seemed keen to show their reach and to increase their local revenue streams. The attacks appeared to fly in the face of local agreements between Hazara populations and the Taleban to largely leave each other alone. The level of violence and the slowness of the government’s response have, moreover, fed into fears of ethnic targeting by the Taleban and ethnic bias from the government. In this second dispatch in a series of two, AAN unpacks the triggers of the attacks and analyses its consequences.

Shujai’s presence in Kondolan

Abdul Hakim Shujai is a notorious former Afghan Local Police (ALP) commander from Malestan (who headed the ALP forces in Khas Uruzgan until he was forced to resign). His visit to Khas Uruzgan on 27 October was the trigger for the first attack. As Rahmatullah Amiri from The Liaison Office (TLO) told AAN, “There are strong anti-Shujai feelings among [local] Pashtuns, who will try to attack him wherever he appears, even if they know that a hundred people will be killed.” This animosity towards him is a result of Shujai’s role as a member of the Afghan Security Guards, a militia recruited by US Special Forces outside the Afghan chain of command (from 2008 to early 2010; see AAN’s earlier reporting here) and, later, as one of the district’s ALP commanders (for more background see this April 2013 report by AAN about his case and the precarious Pashtun-Hazara relations in Khas Uruzgan). As described in AAN’s earlier reporting (see here and here) Shujai has been accused of numerous extrajudicial killings and abuses towards the local Pashtun population, both when he worked with the US special forces and as an ALP commander. According to TLO’s Amiri, “There were two types of operations: first, when Shujai joined the operations led by the US special forces, and second, when the special forces sent Shujai to carry out raids.” (1)

Although Shujai was not the only abusive ALP commander, and possibly not even the worst, he appears to have been particularly targeted by powerful Pashtun leaders and local MPs, who demanded that he be prosecuted for his abuses – most probably because he was a powerful Hazara commander. After sustained criticism he was relieved of his duties and an arrest warrant was issued against him, but for a long time he continued to move freely and was even rumoured to still be commanding his ALP forces. TLO’s Amiri told AAN that Shujai continued to visit his men who were mainly from Khas Uruzgan, seeking to still act as their “protector.”

There are conflicting reports as to why exactly Shujai was in the area this time and what he did while he was there. Former Daikundi governor Qurban Ali Uruzgani, who hails from Khas Uruzgan, as well as other sources, told AAN that there was a dispute between Pashtuns and Hazaras over the routing of an irrigation canal and water pipe. In the spring of this year, Pashtuns had apparently closed a water pipe that ran from the farmland of a man called Qurban Ali Akhlasi in Karez, a sub-village in the southwest of Kondolan, through their farmland. The Hazaras retaliated and closed the irrigation canal (this was also reported by Etilaat Roz). The Taleban had ruled that both sides should allow the water to flow, but the issue resurfaced recently, whereupon the Pashtuns turned to the Taleban and Akhlasi turned to Shujai. A local source told AAN that when visiting Kondolan, Shujai was accompanied by four elders from Payk and four elders from Sia Baghal, two Hazara-dominated villages in Khas Uruzgan – in addition to an unknown number of armed men – to help him solve the dispute. They indicated that the Taleban attack was unprovoked.

Other sources maintain that it was Shujai’s behaviour in the area that had provoked the attack, first towards the local population, who then called in the help of the Taleban. A Pashtun elder from Khas Uruzgan told AAN that Shujai had come to the area to solve the issues of a Hazara woman from Hussaini who had taken refuge in the nearby Pashtun village of Abparan (she was apparently fleeing abuse and she had hoped to be returned to her family). When the Pashtuns refused to return the woman, he said, Shujai went to Abparan where he searched and possibly burned several houses and took some sheep. This was also alluded to in a report by Pajhwok on 6 November which said that clashes had erupted over the case of a woman, after a number of local elders had gathered and that the Taleban had engaged in the fight later. A former Hazara official of Khas Uruzgan, however, told AAN on 17 November that the issue with the woman had been solved and had nothing to do with the Taleban’s attacks.

Villagers from Kondolan had a different story, saying Shujai’s men had run into a group of Pashtuns travelling from Hussaini to Kondolan bazar on 27 October and had killed three of them. Those who survived reported it to the Taleban. Others said the men had not been killed, but had been searched by Shujai when he encountered them on the road, after which they had reported the matter to the Taleban. According to a local source, the local Taleban first refused to take action, but after it came to the attention of the Taleban’s man in charge of military affairs for Khas Uruzgan, Mawlawi Rashed, he ordered the lower-level Taleban commanders to go after Shujai, and they attacked within the hour. (2)

The government mainly seems to have picked up reports of local Pashtuns responding to Shujai’s alleged misbehaviour – which could explain why the violence was initially treated as a local conflict. For instance on 29 October, the Dari service of the Voice of America (VoA) quoted Uruzgan’s NDS head, Abdul Qawi Omari, as saying that Shujai first attacked a Pashtun area and that “the Taleban with the help of local people started the fight against Shujai and his fighters.”

Others said Shujai had travelled to Kondolan for a security meeting (and possibly had meant to tend to the other – more minor – matters alongside the meeting). Khaleq Ibrahimi, who along with two other journalists had travelled to Malestan, told AAN on 18 November that the meeting had been called in response to the increasing influence of the Taleban’s commando-type ‘red unit (also known as ‘special sniper groups’; read AAN’s previous reporting on the shift in the Taleban’s strategy from a ‘front system’ to a ‘red unit system’ here) in Khas Uruzgan since the spring. Others mentioned that Mawlawi Rashed had been given a green light from the Quetta Shura to conduct more aggressive campaigns to collect zakat from the local Hazara population. According to an elder from Payk, the Taleban had recently sent two letters to Kondolan and Hussaini telling the population to decide whether they would cooperate with the Taleban – including the paying of ushr and the giving of young men to the jihad– or face the consequences. The elder said the people of Kondolan and Hussaini had invited Shujai to ask him whether he would defend them or whether they should surrender and agree to the Taleban’s demands. (3)

Shujai claimed something similar in an interview with VoA on 30 October, saying that he was engaged in a fight with the Taleban, not with the Pashtuns, and that he had wanted to set up a commission to resolve the increasing Taleban pressure on “our people in the area.” This, he said, was why he went there, but “the Taleban had plotted” and carried out an attack against him.

Deputy chief executive Muhammad Mohaqeq on 8 November criticised the Taleban for playing a double game: on the one hand “in coordination with local elements portrayed to the government that the fight with the Hazaras is an ethnic fight and conflict and that [the government] should not intervene” and on the other hand pretended to the world that their fight in Uruzgan and Jaghori or other Hazara-dominated areas was “not a systematic ethno-sectarian killing, but an attack against the bases and militias of Ashraf Ghani’s government.”

The Taleban expanding its reach into Hazara areas

Sources close to the Taleban told AAN that about three months ago, Mawlawi Rashed, the Taleban official in charge of military affairs for Khas Uruzgan, complained to the Taleban’s leadership council that the local Hazara population was refusing to pay ushr and zakat and received the green light for a more aggressive campaign to collect these taxes (including, reportedly, an additional land tax, calculated on the basis of acreage; ushr and zakat are calculated based on yield or income).

According to a former official from Khas Uruzgan, around 15 to 20 days before the fighting started, Rashed had already asked the people in Kondolan to pay 100,000 kaldars or Pakistani rupees (around 745 USD). The people could not afford it and had tried to reduce it to 60,000 kaldars. The Taleban including Rashed had also called to a meeting people from the other predominantly Hazara villages of Khas Uruzgan, such as Hussaini, Sewak, Ola wa Khawja Roshnayi, Sia Baghal, Haji Muhammad and Payk, in which they asked the people to pay ushr. The people told the Taleban that they would decide after three months during which the Taleban should not cause any trouble for them.

The population of Jaghori and Malestan had received a similar message from the Taleban. On 16 May 2018, the Taleban’s shadow governor of Ghazni, Haji Yusuf Wafa, sent a letter (AAN has seen a copy) to “all residents, respected ulema (religious scholars) and mujahedin of the districts of Malestan and Jaghori,” saying he had appointed three shadow officials for the areas. The letter introduced Abed as the military head (massoul-e nezami), Hafez Bashir as head of the military commission and Hamidi as civilian head of the two districts. The letter also said, “All mujahedin are duty-bound to obey [them] within the framework of sharia and the regulations of the Islamic Emirate and to continue the holy jihad.” (See also this report by Khabarnama).

On 25 June 2018, the Taleban in the Rasana area of neighbouring Gilan district sent a letter (AAN has seen a copy) to the elders of the Dah Murda area in Jaghori, saying they had been keeping their appointed officials waiting and asking the elders to come to Rasana bazar so “we can all come to an understanding.” On 27 June 2018, Muhammad Yunus Samim, head of the Association of Social Coherence of Jaghori, told AAN that some elders from Nawa, Anguri and Hutqul areas of Jaghori had indeed gone to Rasana to learn the details and had been told by the Taleban that if they did not surrender – that is, submit to the Taleban’s demands – they would be attacked. The Taleban warned them that they had 150–200 fighters ready and that other groups could come as reinforcements.

After several gatherings to decide on a response, the people of Jaghori, according to Samim, finally sent a message that they would be under the central government as long as it was there and that the Taleban should not wage war on a specific ethnic group.

Some sources claimed that agreements had already been in place between the Taleban and community elders in Khas Uruzgan, Malestan and Jaghori, including for paying ushr and zakat to the Taleban, in exchange for the Taleban not attacking the Hazaras. Such agreements also regulated access to local bazaars. On this basis, for instance, the Taleban were only allowed to visit or pass through Gandab bazaar unarmed when travelling between Malestan and Khas Uruzgan (Gandab is a ‘major’ local bazaar in Khas Uruzgan where goods from Ghazni city are on offer). (4) Based on agreements with elders in Jaghori, the Taleban had similarly been given free passage to the areas further west and north, sources said, if they promised not to attack the local population (although other sources dispute that this was ever the case). (5) (The International Crisis Group’s senior analyst Borhan Osman told AAN that the Taleban’s attacks on Jaghori had been triggered by the population’s refusal to continue to allow the Taleban’s movement through Jaghori.)

Such deals would not always hold, as illustrated by the kidnapping of Hazaras on the roads between Jaghori and Ghazni city and also other places in Ghazni and Zabul; sometimes the hostages were released, sometimes they were killed. Whenever kidnappings occurred, Hazara elders would try to contact local Pashtun elders for their release, which might have led to indirect contacts with the local Taleban leaders, which in turn may have resulted in more unwritten deals. Khadim Hussain Kartimi described such deals to AAN as “good neighbourhood agreements” which meant that the people on both sides would not allow a third force (the Taleban or the government) to carry out operations that would harm the local people.

Strong reactions from Hazara communities

Reactions from the Hazara community – within Afghanistan, online and internationally – to the Taleban attacks on the three districts were swift and fierce. There were spontaneous demonstrations, social media campaigns (some rather extreme) and sustained pressure on the government to take action.

Uprising forces from other areas in Hazarajat travelled to Jaghori and Malestan to bolster the local resistance and morale. For instance, on 10 November, Etilaat Roz reported that Abdul Ghani Alipur (also known as Qomandan Shamshir), the commander of the Jabha-ye Moqawamat (Resistance Front), an autonomous Hazara self-defence armed group in Behsud district of Maidan Wardak, arrived in Jaghori district of Ghazni to support the local “public uprising forces” and asked residents not to leave their areas and homes. The paper quoted Alipur as saying, “The enemy is not that strong and widespread, but unfortunately the enemy’s infiltrators have spread rumours among the people which have created fear and terror.” He called on the people to resist the Taleban and withstand the rumours (about their strength). (6)

AAN also observed efforts by Hazaras in Kabul to raise funds to buy weapons – especially sniper rifles and night goggles – to ensure that the resistance forces in Jaghori and Malestan were armed with the same kinds of weapons the Taleban were using against them. This seemed a clear signal that the Hazara community did not trust the government to come to the aid of the besieged communities.

When, in the evening of 11 November the district centre of Malestan was reportedly on the verge of collapse, hundreds of people marched to the Arg, the former royal palace and now home to the president, in a spontaneous protest (see media reports on the protests here). The protest that started around 10 at night was triggered by the Facebook post of a young social media activist, Ahmad Jawid Tasha, who wrote at 9:29 pm: “Guys, if possible, let’s march toward Arg just now.” A few minutes later, at 9:40 pm, he wrote: “I’m just 10 minutes away from Haji Nowruz’s square. Anyone who has the courage and guts please get out and we will get together along the Shahid Mazari road. Let’s march toward the Arg” (for more details see the Kabul-based news website Reporterly here). Tasha, from Qarabagh district of Ghazni, told AAN later that he had tried to call his friends in the area after he saw rumours about the fall of Malestan on social media, but had been unable to get through. Losing contact with his friends, who were inside the district centre’s compound, and remembering them saying goodbye (in earlier calls), led him to take to the street.

Haji Nowruz Square is in Barchi, a neighbourhood in the mainly Shia/Hazara area in the west of Kabul, which has been the starting point for several mass protests over the past years: from the Tabassum protest (AAN reporting here) in 2015 to the Enlightenment protests in 2016 (AAN background here). The call to march towards the palace coincidentally came on the third anniversary of the Tabassum protest against the killing of seven Hazara travellers, including two women and a child. (7) As during the earlier protests, the police tried to block the protestors from reaching the Arg, but they finally managed to get there. The security measures, however, created massive traffic chaos in the morning for Kabulis who wanted to go to work.

In front of the Arg, many protesters braved the night’s rain and stayed until the next day and on into the early afternoon hours, with more joining. Many had been irked by President Ghani’s quasi-election campaign visit to Daikundi and Bamyan provinces on 9 and 10 November, respectively. There he presented his current second vice-president, Sarwar Danesh, a Hazara from Daikundi, as his running-mate for the 2019 presidential election and had indicated that Jaghori district might be elevated to provincial status, but he had not commented on the on-going fighting in the Hazara districts in Ghazni. When given a chance to send a delegation to meet the president, the protesters instead insisted that the president go live – either on the palace Facebook page or national radio and television – to convey his message to the people in the three districts.

Latif Fayyaz, one of the protestors, told AAN on 12 November that the protesters had five demands: (a) dispatch military support for the uprising forces in the three districts, (b) carry out clearance operations in the border areas where the Taleban had mobilised and were threatening those districts, (c) secure the roads that connect the districts to the provincial centres and other provinces, (d) provide relief aid to the IDPs from those districts and (e) establish an army corps in the Hazarajat.

These demands were sent to the president and communicated verbally after the protesters finally agreed to talk to him by telephone (Asef Ashna, a former deputy spokesman for Chief Executive Abdullah spoke on their behalf). President Ghani in response said that the dispatch of commandos to Jaghori (they had been killed the day before) had been a demonstration of the government’s will and commitment. He also said he had: (a) ordered the use of the air force the night before (and that airstrikes from 11:30 pm to 03:00 am had led to a reduction in the intensity of the fighting in both Jaghori and Malestan), (b) instructed the army chief to travel to Ghazni and personally lead the fight, (c) commando forces from 201 army corps were on the way to Jaghori and Malestan, (d) the plan for large-scale operations would be presented to him in the commander-in-chief meeting and would be carried out from four sides and (e) basic food stuff had been prepared and there was a commitment to address the needs of the IDPs. The president said that what could not be done immediately was to establish a permanent battalion and that he would not promise something which was not immediately feasible. (8)

The demand to establish an army corps had emerged after the Taleban killed more than 20 local Hazara police personnel in Jalrez district of Maidan Wardak in July 2015 (see media report here). (9) Currently, the Tandar Corps, the Afghan National Army Corps 203 based in Gardez in Paktia, is responsible for Jaghori and Malestan (it is the ANA command centre for southeastern Afghanistan, Loya Paktia, Logar and Ghazni). It is deployed far from Jaghori and Malestan and had even not been able to come to the rescue of the much closer Ghazni city when it temporarily fell to the Taleban in August this year (see this media report here and also AAN’s report about the insecure spring in Ghazni here; a detailed analysis by AAN of the brief fall of Ghazni is forthcoming).

Hazara analysis of what might be behind the attacks

Observers appeared to have been taken by surprise by the Taleban attacks on the Hazara areas. For instance, Muhammad Nateqi, deputy leader of Hezb-e Wahdat-e Mardom, described on his Facebook page on 12 November how a year ago he had a conversation with Taleban representatives in Qatar. The first point he raised with them was that “our people [still] hold you responsible for the martyrdom of Ustad Mazari” (founder of Hezb-e Wahdat-e Islami who was killed by the Taleban in March 1995). The Taleban’s response had been that they were sorry, that the murder of Mazari had not been their work, and that something should be done so there would no longer be problems between the Taleban and the Hazaras. But the bloody events of Malestan and Jaghori, Nateqi said, showed “that the Taleban do not have memory. Just as they were responsible for the martyrdom of Ustad Mazari, they are exactly responsible for the killing of our defenceless people in Malestan and Jaghori.”

Others like Muhammad Amin Ahmadi, the president of private Ibn-e Sina University, tried to analyse the fact that the Taleban’s attacks continued even after Shujai had fled Khas Uruzgan. In a piece for Hasht-e Sobh on 3 November, he argued that “The Taleban want to expand their territory towards Malestan and Jaghori … and bring all these areas under their influence and control to pressure the central government more than before and strip the government of the support of the Hazaras and make the Hazaras disappointed with the support from the central government and force them to surrender to them [the Taleban].” Ahmadi warned that if the Taleban achieved this goal, “the legitimacy of the central government [at a time when] it is announced that the government controls only 50 per cent of the country’s soil will be undermined more than before, because even from a religious perspective, it will be argued that the government has lost its necessary shoukat [power] and authority and is unable to maintain order and security even for its supporters, so in old terms, it is no longer a zi-showkat [powerful] sultan against which fighting is haram [forbidden] religiously. Its position in peace negotiations will also be strongly undermined.”

In a separate post on 11 November, Ahmadi argued that the Taleban aimed to capture Hazara districts by “al-nasr bel ru’b (victory by scaring)”. He wrote, “The Taleban by the killings that they carried out in Uruzgan scared the ordinary people and made them understand that their slightest move would be responded to by widespread and heinous killing. They have announced and are announcing this policy of terror that the people should not intervene in their fight with the government or even [should not] come out of their homes, otherwise, they would be killed, so that they can easily capture the local administrations and rule the people.” Ahmadi also said, “The Hazara community and in a sense all proponents of the constitutional system and opponents of the Taleban’s rule have stood at a turning point of destiny. We should all answer this question whether to allow the Taleban [to] overthrow this system and as a result accept extremist and hard-line, exclusivist and non-participatory Taleban rule? Whether to not seek justice and equality [and] pay taxes and ushr just to survive? It is time for a right, unified and inclusive decision, tomorrow is [too] late.”

Threats and possibly violence towards Pashtuns in the affected areas

Violence and threats against Pashtuns in the affected Hazara areas have been reported since the Taleban left. Sources from Andar district in Ghazni, for instance, told AAN that some of the 80 to 100 Pashtuns from Nawa and Gilan districts who had active businesses in Anguri (fuel stations, pharmacies, car dealerships, well drills, etc.) had been unaware of the attack beforehand and were thus unable to leave the area. One source said that he was stuck in Anguri bazaar for one week during which, he said, the uprising people were giving him death threats every day. They told these businessmen that they would be killed very soon because the uprising people had lost 70 of their friends in the fighting with the Taleban. He also said some of the businessmen were beaten and that the businesses of some Pashtuns had been burnt during an attack by local uprising people – but the reports are somewhat inconclusive. (For example, the fuel station of Haji Ibrahimi, a rich man from Rasana area, was reported to have been burnt and Haji Ibrahim was said to have been missing since the day the attack started. Others however claim that Haji Ibrahim has since then reappeared and that people who travelled to the area have since found the fuel station intact.)

Journalist Karimi, quoted above, however, claimed that many Pashtun businessmen had in fact disappeared from Anguri with their vehicles and other important possessions the night before the attack, in response to the earlier Taleban threats and letters warning of a possible attack. He said that local people who had been taken by surprise by the Taleban attacks, later criticised themselves for failing to notice the departure of the businesspeople as a sign of an imminent threat.

AAN was told that on 18 November 2018, two airstrikes hit two civilian houses in Rasana in Gilan (the Taleban had attacked Hutqul from Rasana in Gilan). The first house was empty and only the building was destroyed. The second strike hit the house of Abdul Malik (see photos of the victims and Abdul Malik in this Facebook post) and killed his wife and his daughter and wounded another four family members. According the sources, the airstrikes continued on 19 November and as a result more than 1,000 families fled. They started returning on 20 November after the fighting reduced. BBC Pashto reported that 1,200 families had left the area.

Local residents told the BBC that they were leaving the Rasana area, chiefly due to indiscriminate shelling by the uprising people from Anguri area. They told BBC that two children had died due to cold weather while they were on the way to Aghujan, Shinki and Guha areas. One local resident told the BBC, “They fire rockets at our area because they say Taleban are living here.” The spokesman for Ghazni governor, Arif Nuri, confirmed the killing of one civilian in the bombing, but did not comment on the wounded civilians or the destruction of civilian houses. Ghazni police chief Daud Tarakhel told the BBC that the bombing had not killed civilians.

Conclusion: What to make of this new phase of Taleban assault?

Since the attacks started on 27 October, the Taleban have been pushing into Hazara areas in Uruzgan and Ghazni provinces. The Hazaras have been putting pressure on the government to deploy forces to protect them from the Taleban’s assault. They have also been mobilising public uprising forces to defend their areas. While the Taleban have now been pushed back from Jaghori and Malestan districts, they continue to pose a threat of renewed attacks on certain parts of Jaghori and Malestan.

The Taleban’s attacks on the Hazara areas in Uruzgan and Ghazni have an ethnic dimension; that is to say, the Taleban, a predominately Pashtun movement, has attacked areas inhabited by Hazaras – from areas dominated by Pashtuns. This has further strained the already precarious inter-community relations in those areas.

The Taleban’s attacks on the Hazara areas have been catching headlines, raising speculation and theories as to why the Taleban have attacked at the very time that they are also holding meetings with the US towards a possible political settlement.

First, the Taleban may have wanted to gain more territory before the start of any peace talks. This was one of the hypotheses that Zalmai Khalilzad, the US Special Representative for Afghanistan Reconciliation, pointed to in a question and answer session with journalists. He said some alleged the Taleban wanted “to improve their relative position” as the country moved from “war to talk” and that in the areas where the defence was relatively weak, it was easier for them to strengthen their position. (10) This was echoed by Muhammad Ali Alizada, an MP from Jaghori, who told AAN on 15 November that the Taleban had already claimed in Moscow that they controlled “55 per cent of the territory and by spring might claim to be controlling up to 70 per cent.” Alizada said that the Taleban, in fact, wanted to “expand both their territorial control and power” before any peace talks.

Second, the Taleban seem to have wanted to expand their influence within all ethnic groups. This was highlighted by Amiri of the TLO who said that “the Taleban have influence among Tajiks and Uzbeks. The Hazaras are the only community that is not influenced by the Taleban yet. The Taleban want to try it with the Hazaras.” Observation from the north, however, shows that the Taleban mainly co-opted people from Tajik and Uzbek communities there, unlike their recent attacks on the Hazara areas, which led to widespread fear and displacement.

Third, the Taleban seem to long have been planning to attack Hazara areas in an attempt to establish their administration, a major part of which is the collection of taxes and ushr. This was confirmed by the government’s fact-finding delegation which found, as reported by Hasht-e Sobh, that the Taleban had asked residents of Kondolan, Hussain and Sia Baghal to pay taxes and hand over their weapons. The daily quoted Asadullah Falah, the head of the delegation, as saying that the Taleban had asked those villagers to “resort to jehad” against the government and that the Taleban intended to “collect taxes from the people and use them against the government.” AAN’s own research also shows that the Taleban long wanted to move their administration into these areas to expand their territory and increase their revenues. The timing for the attack may have been influenced by the fact that the Taleban had already captured large parts of the Pashtun areas in the two provinces of Ghazni and Uruzgan and, given the possible new momentum for peace talks, now wanted to expand their territory so they could negotiate from a position of greater strength.

It was against this backdrop that the Taleban seem to have used Shujai’s appearance in Khas Uruzgan as an opportunity to launch their attacks. It is not clear why they engaged in indiscriminate killing in the way they did, particularly in Kondolan and Hussaini. Some Pashtun sources claim these killings were done by individuals intent on revenge and that the Taleban has dealt with the perpetrators, internally. A former official of Khas Uruzgan told AAN he thought the Taleban had simply launched their attack on the two Hazara-dominated districts of Jaghori and Malestan, after their foray into Khas Uruzgan, when they realised how vulnerable and defenceless the two districts were.

 

 

(1) Accusations of killings by Shujai are documented in this Human Rights Watch report, published in March 2015. The report said:

Abdul Hakim Shujoyi, a militia leader in central Afghanistan’s Uruzgan province, became an ALP commander in 2011 at the insistence of U.S. forces. He personally murdered civilians, including a rampage in July 2011 when he shot dead 7 villagers and set fire to their crops. After a further attack in which he killed at least 9 civilians in 2012, the Ministry of Interior issued a warrant for his arrest. Nevertheless, he remains at large, apparently protected by senior government officials.

For more details, see also this AAN report.

(2) Sources told AAN that the Taleban had appointed Mawlawi Rashed as masul nezami (military in charge) for Khas Uruzgan about a year ago. He is said to be around 35 years old, an Achekzai Pashtun (Ardozai by sub-tribe) from Sheikha in Khas Uruzgan and a former lower-level Taleban front commander. The Taleban have been appointing three main officials for each district: in addition to the military in charge, they also appoint a masul mulki (civilian in charge) and masul kemisyun nezami (person in charge of the military commission). As reported above, they introduced the same structure for Jaghori and Malestan, jointly, in May this year.

(3) Over the years the Taleban have put pressure on the Hazara pockets of Khas Uruzgan. The first area to come under heavy pressure was Bagh o Char in the southeast of the district. The Hazara population was unable to withstand the Taleban’s demands and decided to vacate the area. More recently, the Hazara areas of Palan, Shashpar and Siro came under de facto Taleban control. The Hazara areas in the southeast of the district – Kondolan, Hussaini, Haji Mohammad, Gandab and Payk – due to their proximity to Malestan had until now been relatively protected against such pressure and incursions.

(4) Gandab bazaar is the main bazaar for five villages in the neighbourhood: Payk, Sia Baghal, Haji Muhammad, Abesto and Ola wa Khawaja Roshnayi. They are all Hazara villages. The two villages closest to Malestan are Haji Muhammad and Payk on the east.

(5) According to local sources, Bashi Habib – who was killed in the latest fighting – had first made a deal with the Taleban after they attacked his house in Jaghori in 2007. (According to this blog, his wife, two sons and two nephews were killed in the attack). A source from Autli, a village near Rasana in Gilan district, told AAN that according to this deal the Taleban would not cause problems to Hazaras and vice versa, nor for the security forces that passed through the Hazara areas. In exchange the security forces would not harm them and the Taleban would be allowed to seek refuge in Hazara areas, provided they came to the areas without weapons. As a result of this agreement, Taleban fighters would commute quite often to Anguri bazaar in Jaghuri, but without weapons. They would come to see doctors, fix their motorbikes and tend to other needs. Bashi is said to have also given weapons and money to the Taleban at the time (as Shujai is said to have done in the past).

(6) Alipur was arrested by security forces in Kabul on 25 November for having established “an illegal armed group … involved in illegal activities” such as ransom seeking, illegal extortions, arming and supporting criminal groups, harassing people, and carrying out an armed attack on security forces (see here for the NDS media report). His arrest sparked protests by his Hazara supporters in Kabul, Bamyan, Balkh, Daikundi and other places for two consecutive days. The protests in Kabul and Bamyan turned violent (see media reports here and here). He was released in the evening of the following day after committing, among others, to either registering all his weapons, ammunition and military equipment or handing them to the government; staying in Kabul until all legal phases of the investigations were completed; and to answer to the judicial authorities if there were any claims against him by the people (see media report here). Alipur himself said, in his defence, that he had left his transportation job and had “founded the resistance” after he witnessed “the disasters and misery of the people” in Maidan valley (see this document).

(7) There were further protests in the same night, including in front of the girls’ dormitory of Kabul University, in Mazar-e Sharif and in the morning on the campuses of the university and the Polytechnic Institute in Kabul. There, students blocked the entry gates, but allowed them to reopen when lectures started. Further demonstrations were reported from the provincial centres of Bamian and Daykundi.

(8) When the Kabul protestors dispersed after Ghani’s phone call, a suicide bomber blew himself up in the middle of a group of young people close to Zarnegar Park and Isteqlal Lycee, killing six people, among them three young women and a traffic policeman who was hit by shrapnel. Some 20 more people were injured. The Islamic State claimed responsibility for this attack.

Among the dead were three youth activists – Gulchehra Sadaf, Fereshta Akbari and Ismail Bashardost – who reportedly had been among the first who helped victims of earlier terrorist attacks and donating blood. One of them, Gulchehra, had been photographed carrying the casket of a student victim of the 15 August 2018 attack on the Mawud educational centre in West Kabul.

(9) In December 2016, Vice-President Danesh and deputy chief executive Mohammad Mohaqeq submitted a “Comprehensive Security and Administrative Plan for the Central Hazarajat Regions” to the National Security Council. They wanted to draw the government’s attention to the “existing dangers and threats in Hazarajat” so it would take measures to make people feel confident that the government would ensure their security. As part of this plan, they proposed that a lewa (an army brigade) comprised of six kandak (battalions) be established with its centre in Bamyan. They suggested the following distribution of battalions: (a) one in the centre of Bamyan, (b) one in Sheikh Ali district of Parwan, (c) one in Behsud district of Maidan Wardak, (d) two in Kejran and Nili of Daikundi, (e) one in Lal wa Sarjangal in Ghor. They also proposed that Jaghori and Balkhab, which are far from Bamyan, would be given battalions from, respectively, the Ghazni army brigade and the northern 202 Shahin corps. The proposal also said the people in Hazarajat demanded the establishment of three new provinces with their capitals in Jaghori (currently Ghazni), Behsud (Maidan Wardak) and Lal wa Sarjangal (Ghor). Until those provinces were created, the proposal said, the big districts in the central highlands should be split as follow: (1) Lal wa Sarjangal with an estimated population of 180,000 should be into two; (2) Waras of Bamyan with an estimated population of 160,000 should be split into into three; (3) Behsud district of Maidan Wardak with estimated population of 160,000 into three; (4) Nahur district of Ghazni with estimated population of 140,000 into two; (5) Jaghori with estimated population of 300,000 into three; (6) Malestan with estimated population of 140,000 into three; and (7) Miramur district of Daikundi with estimated population of 160,000 into two.

(10) Khalilzad also said he had heard another hypothesis:that “some Talebs who have developed some relations with Iran” were responsible for the attacks in order to justify the possible use of fatemyun– a brigade of Afghan fighters who fought in Syria – “to say those areas needed defence and therefore let’s deploy defence forces.” But he added that, based on his discussions with Mohaqeq, he had the strong impression that the central region, the Hazarajat area, does not want any fatemyun deployed and that they had confidence in the government and its partners to deal effectively with the security of the area.

On 15 November, the Afghan Institute for Strategic Studies organised an event about a recent report by the Middle East Institute where speakers raised concerns about the use of fatemyun in Afghanistan.

 

In late October 2018, the Taleban pushed deeper into Hazara areas than they had ever done before. They first pursued Hakim Shujai, a notorious former Afghan Local Police (ALP) commander, into Malestan, then launched an assault on the district of Jaghori and thereafter attacked Malestan’s district centre, almost resulting in its collapse. The attacks were unprecedented in their reach and scope and led to massive displacement of local people. In this series of two dispatches, AAN’s Ali Yawar Adili and Martine van Bijlert (with input from Thomas Ruttig, Fazal Muzhari and Ehsan Qaane), first, look into the details of the attacks and, second, provide in-depth background and an analysis of the attacks.

The Taleban attacks on Hazara areas in districts in Uruzgan and Ghazni provinces were unprecedented – at least in recent times – in terms of the number of incursions, the number of casualties and the level of coordination (three areas at more or less the same time). The initial attack on the largely self-governing Hazara enclave in the northeast of Khas Uruzgan was in response to Shujai’s visit – and possibly his behaviour towards Pashtuns while he was there. At the same time, it came in the context of increased pressure by the Taleban on the Hazara population in areas they had so far largely left alone. Coming at a time when the government and the Taleban are talking about a possible peace process, the Taleban suddenly seemed keen to show their reach and to increase their local revenue streams. The attacks appeared to fly in the face of local agreements between Hazara populations and the Taleban to largely leave each other alone. The level of violence and the slowness of the government to respond have, moreover, fed into fears of ethnic targeting by the Taleban and ethnic bias from the government. In this first dispatch in a series of two, AAN provides a detailed account of the attacks.

The attack in Khas Uruzgan and incursions into Malestan

The attack on Khas Uruzgan started on 27 October 2018. On that day, by all accounts, Hakim Shujai, a notorious former Afghan Local Police (ALP) commander, arrived in the Kondolan area in the northeast of Khas Uruzgan in a convoy of several cars (Shujai is from Malestan, but headed the ALP forces in Khas Uruzgan until he was forced to resign). After refuelling his vehicles and moving around in Kondolan bazaar for a while, he went to an area called Dakhni in the centre of the area where he decided to spend the night. The Taleban, alerted to his presence, approached Dakhni around 7:30 pm and started shooting to find out whether he was really there. When they drew return fire, they attacked.

Shujai was injured in the attack, but managed to escape with his remaining men to Hamza, a hamlet at the edge of Kondolan. From there, he continued to Ochi (also known as Gerdai Chaman), which is in the Shirdagh area of Malestan district in Ghazni, just across the border. The Taleban pursued him into Shirdagh where they engaged in fighting over the days that followed. Taleban reinforcements arrived, first from other areas in Khas Uruzgan, later also from Ajiristan district in Ghazni, according to local sources. They were stationed in houses and mosques in the Hazara areas of Kondolan, Husseini, Haji Muhammad and Gandab – the northeastern corner of the district where the Hazara population had so far largely managed to keep their independence from the Taleban. In the days that followed, several civilians were violently killed, leading ever more families to flee the area out of fear of violence. (1)

On 28 October 2018, the Taleban claimed responsibility for the attack, saying that “the brutal commander Shujai had resorted to an aggressive attack for the purpose of looting in the Kondolan and Jaga Righ areas of Khas Uruzgan and had faced tough resistance.” The Taleban’s report claimed that eight of Shujai’s forces had been killed and injured and six more, including “a policewoman,” had been captured. (Local sources told AAN the woman was not a policewoman and had been captured because she had picked up a weapon to fight off the Taleban, being the only person in the house; the sources also said the Taleban later released the prisoners). According to sources AAN spoke to, the Taleban killed 11 people in the attack, including two of Shujai’s deputies, Fakuri and Khan Ali Ghulami (known as Shujai’s ‘minister of war’).

On 1 November 2018, President Ashraf Ghani issued a decree in response to the public outcry over the attack – although the wording of the text only made matters worse. The decree tasked a 12-member delegation “to investigate and resolve the recent conflict among the ethnicities of Uruzgan province.” (3) The fact that the president had referred to the violence as ‘ethnic conflict,’ was met with sharp criticism by many Hazaras who argued that this was clearly a matter of the Taleban attacking a pro-government area and it was the government’s responsibility not just to investigate, but to act. For instance, the head of private Ibn-e Sina University, Muhammad Amin Ahmadi, wrote on 4 November (under the title “A government that establishes peace between the Taleban and the local population”):

[It is such a] confused government whose ethnocentrism has rendered it unable to understand even the simplest issues. According to a report by [Kabul daily] Etilaat Roz, the president has appointed a delegation to find the root of the Taleban’s conflict with the local people in Uruzgan, as if the conflict is an ethnic-based one, or between the Taleban and a local commander. … The government should answer this simple question: does it agree with the Taleban’s advance into its sovereign territory? Does it want the people to surrender to the Taleban? Is it not concerned about the weakening of the government and the fall of the system?

The president’s own vice-president and chief executive also weighed in. Vice-President Sarwar Danesh said in a speech on 1 November 2018, “These people were under government rule and are supporters of the system and, for that very reason, have come under the Taleban’s brutal attack.” He criticised his own government saying, “for whatever reason, no practical action has been taken by the local administration or our security institutions in [Kabul] to defend the people.” Danesh also called on the local population “not to surrender … and to defend their dignity and freedom manly.” A few days later, on 5 November, Chief Executive Abdullah told the weekly meeting of the Council of Ministers that he had met with representatives from the (Hazara) central region who complained that the issue was presented as an “ethnic fight.” He admitted that the delay in the government’s response had led to civilian casualties and displacement of the people.

Former Daikundi governor Qurban Ali Uruzgani told AAN that he had met Vice-President Danesh, along with a number of other Hazara representatives, to discuss the decree’s three main problems: (a) it called the conflict “ethnic”, (b) the delegation included only two Hazaras and (c) the decree had tasked the governor’s office in Uruzgan – that is, the officials who had initially reported the conflict to the president as an ethnic one – with facilitating the delegation’s stay. Uruzgani said that it was as a result of these efforts that the decree was amended. (4)

On 5 November, Ghazni provincial council member Muhammad Naim Tawhidi, who according to media reports had been at the scene of the clashes, was quoted as saying that the Taleban’s so-called commando-type ‘red units’ had attacked the police forces in Shirdagh, Malestan, during the night of 4 November. (Read AAN’s previous reporting on the shift in Taleban strategy from a ‘front system’ to a ‘red unit’, also known as the Taleban’s ‘special sniper group’ system here). Tawhidi said that 13 policemen had been killed in the clashes and the security forces had withdrawn towards Meradina, Malestan’s district centre. Pajhwok quoted Malestan district governor Zamen Ali Hedayat, who added that scores of civilians had also been killed. (The possible presence of the Taleban’s red units was also mentioned by other local sources and repeated by Deputy Chief Executive Muhammad Mohaqeq here).

Provincial council member Tawhidi complained that more than 30 army soldiers had arrived in Malestan centre a few days earlier, but they had not yet been allowed to carry out operations.

Several sources told AAN that following the Taleban’s assault on Shirdagh, local people struck a deal with the Taleban and gave up the fight. Khaleq Ibrahimi, who had travelled to Malestan along with two other journalists to investigate the Taleban attacks, in a conversation with AAN, quoted a resident of Shirdagh saying that it had not been “a peace deal, but rather it allowed us to lengthen our survival (“dam-e khod ra daraz kunim)” and that it had come at the cost of schools and paying ushr (an obligatory charge on agricultural produce). (AAN’s conversations with different sources show that the fighting indeed stopped, but only until 10 November when the Taleban attacked Malestan’s district centre – more on this below.)

On 5 November, the Afghanistan Independent Human Rights Commission (AIHRC) issued a press release on “the armed conflict in Uruzgan province,” saying that around 63 local people had been killed or injured in the Taleban attacks on the villages of Kondolan, Hussaini, Karez and Gerdai Chaman in Khas Uruzgan district, and that hundreds of families had been displaced.

On 6 November, Pajhwok reported that Asadullah Falah, the head of a government delegation, while visiting neighbouring Malestan and Jaghori (more on this below) had confirmed the killing of 40 civilians in recent clashes between the Taleban and an “illegal commander” in Khas Uruzgan and Malestan districts. The report also quoted Falah as saying that the Taleban had attacked residential buildings and villages and caused casualties to civilians and that around 500 families had been displaced. Later he told Hasht-e Sobh that 54 people had been killed: “After the people of these areas disobeyed the Taleban’s order, 25 people in Kondolan, nine people in Hussaini village and 20 in other villages of the district were killed by the Taleban. Eleven security forces were also killed in the fight in Khas Uruzgan. Six security forces were injured.” (5)

On 7 November, the president’s office reported that the commander-in-chief of the armed forces had reviewed the general security situation of Khas Uruzgan, Malestan and Jaghori (as well as other districts under threat, such as Qala-ye Kah in Farah and Chaharsada in Ghor). The statement said that the security forces had been instructed to present “a clear security picture and plan” and to take urgent action and that the US/NATO-led Resolute Support mission had promised air support.

The attack on Jaghori

On the same day, on 7 November, the Taleban went on the offensive in neighbouring Jaghori district. They attacked a number of posts in the Hutqul area, a village that borders Rasana in Gilan district, around 1:00 in the morning. The Taleban first attacked posts that were manned by Salam Akrami – a commander of around 30 local police (ALP) – in Awri Gardu. Then they moved to a post run by Habibullah Haidari, known as Bashi Habib, in Bazar-e Kohna Lashkarai, as well as posts in Ferozkoh manned by ALP and local uprising forces. (6) Khadim Hussain Karimi, a journalist from Hutqul, told AAN that the Taleban overran Salam’s posts – killing him and most of his men – as well as Bashi’s posts. They then moved to Bashi’s house where they killed him and two of his sons, in his home. (7) On the same night, the Taleban entered Daud village from Larga in Muqur district of Ghazni where they met no resistance.

Taleban spokesman Zabihullah Mujahed issued a statement on 7 November saying that their attack on Jaghori district was “against military centres of the enemy and against the Kabul administration and servants of America.” The statement emphasised that the attacks were not against any specific qawm (ethnicity), qeshr (group) or mazhab (religious sect) and called on “our countrymen in Jaghori district, especially Hazara and Shia … to be mindful of the conspiracy by the corrupt few and America’s lackeys sitting in Kabul” who might try to portray the Taleban attacks “as against the people.” The statement reiterated that, as they would do everywhere else in the country, the Taleban would “carry out attacks against the servants and lackeys of America and punish them for their acts of treason to their religion and country” and would “continue such attacks in Jaghori and other areas that remain under the control of the Kabul administration.”

Following these attacks, Ghazni MPs and provincial council members met Chief Executive Abdullah and NDS chief Muhammad Masum Stanekzai to call for the urgent dispatch of reinforcements. Both promised to send air support before the end of the day, if the fighting continued (see here). A day later, on 8 November, Ghazni spokesman Nuri said that the Taleban had been pushed back after security forces enforcements arrived, that 39 of the Taleban had been killed, and that clearance operations were on-going.

The Hutqul area, from where the Taleban first attacked, remained quiet on 9 and 10 November. On 11 November, the Taleban carried out another deadly assault that started at 3 am and continued until 7 am. Media reports differed as to the number of casualties. Etilaat Roz reported (see here) that 25 commando soldiers and 15 civilians had been killed.  A New York Times team that later travelled to Sang-e Masha reported that it had seen the bodies of 20 commandos which had been airlifted in four days earlier (on 8 November: see media report here) “laid … on sheets on the ground, side by side on their backs.” It is not clear how the Taleban managed to kill so many commandos in a single attack.

Journalist Karimi, quoted above, told AAN that the local uprising forces had been left demoralised after the high rate of commando casualties. As a result, on 13 November around 10 am, the Taleban captured the public uprising posts in Balna Koh in Hutqul without a fight (see here). The Taleban then, Karimi said, proceeded to capture several villages, including Hutqul, Anguri, Daud, Zirak, and Kotal Lokhak. They advanced towards the district centre, reaching as far as Kotal Dala and Kotal Loman.

On 17 November, the Ministry of Defence finally announced that military operations led by Muhammad Sharif Yaftali, the chief of army staff, had been launched to clear Jaghori and Malestan districts. (See media report here)

On 19 November the Taleban attacked Baba village in western Jaghori, killing three people (one guard of a telecommunication antenna tower and two public uprising forces) and wounding three more (see also this breaking news on Etilaat Roz Facebook page). Local sources told AAN that, on 9 November, the Taleban had already given an ultimatum to the people of Pato, Baba and Hicha, villages in the western part of Jaghori, saying they would come to no harm if they allowed the Taleban fighters to pass through on their way to Jaghori’s district centre, Sang-e Masha. After meetings and consultations, the local people in Baba and parts of Hicha decided to resist the Taleban’s demands to allow them to advance.

The attack on Baba on 19 November came after the Taleban had already entered parts of Hicha and Pato on 16 November. The Taleban entered Pato village based on a deal with Ibrahim Abbasi, a local commander of Hezb-e Islami-e Gulbuddin Hekmatyar. According to this post by Etilaat Roz journalist Esmat Sorush, as well as AAN’s local sources, Abbasi had several rounds of meetings with the Taleban and finally called on the people of Pato not to stand against the Taleban, arguing that they did not have the capability to fight. Abbasi, according to the sources, agreed to allow the Taleban’s advance towards the district centre, in return for the Taleban not harming the people of the village.

The Taleban attacked the Baba front on 22 November for the second time, killing a member of the uprising forces who had arrived from a neighbouring village, Chehel Baghtu, and injuring a few more (see here).

Attack on Malestan district centre

In the meantime, on 10 November, the Taleban attacked the district centre of Malestan, Meradina.‌‌ BBC quoted local people as saying that Taleban forces had crossed the Siah Baghal and Zawli areas in Khas Uruzgan the night before, driving Humvees and ranger pickups they had captured from the government. Muhammad Ali Akhlaqi, an MP from Malestan, told AAN that a convoy of 100 to 150 Taleban fighters had departed from Gandab in Khas Uruzgan, five to six kilometres from the Malestan border, in the morning of 8 November. The Taleban stopped at Kotal Kharzar, only five kilometres from Meradina, for a reconnaissance likely out of fear they might be ambushed if they proceeded.

Etilaat Roz reported that fighting between the Taleban and the security forces started at around 10 am of 10 November, after the Taleban had taken positions a few kilometres from Meradina under the shelter of darkness, including in people’s homes in Dahan-e Bum and Qushang, as well as in Moklai village, close to the district headquarter of Malestan.

After people heard the Taleban were attacking the district centre, the bazaar of Meradina closed and hundreds of families fled, including from Dahan-e Bum and Moklai, Etilaat Roz and the BBC reported. The BBC added that only men stayed behind, to protect their property and belongings. The police forces stationed at the district centre went out to fight the Taleban, but the special forces said they were not allowed to do so. That night, the Taleban advanced to within 200 metres of the district centre and there was fighting in the surrounding villages.

District governor Hedayat wrote on his Facebook page on 12 November that the Taleban had been pushed back by the security forces and on 18 November the Ministry of Interior announced that Malestan district had been totally cleared of “terrorists.” This was confirmed by the Ministry of Defence on 19 November, which said that in the fighting, 31 Taleban had been killed and 15 others wounded.

The Ministry of Interior also said that it had established two tolai (companies) of an “urdu-ye mantaqawi” or territorial army (a new initiative to set up community defence forces – supposedly – under the Ministry of Defence with ‘community’ involvement in their establishment, recruitment and, possibly, oversight – AAN background here). The Ministry of Interior also said it had mobilised 600 locals within the framework of public uprising forces (see footnote 6 for a description) in the two districts, saying they would be equipped and assigned to maintain security in their areas after receiving training.

Although the Taleban have been pushed back from both Jaghori and Malestan, many of those displaced are wary about returning, as they fear that with the departure of additional security forces, the Taleban fighters will return to the area (see for instance this BBC report here). Several sources have told AAN that Taleban reinforcements, including the notorious red units had come from other areas to help with the fight in Jaghori and Malestan (including from  Ajirestan in Uruzgan and Gilan and Andar districts in Ghazni). Although they have now returned to their own areas, they could be called on again in the future. 

Conclusion: The local population pays the price for the conflict

The fighting in the three districts led to massive displacement, at a time when winter has already come. Presidential adviser Muhammad Aziz Bakhtyari, a member of the government’s fact-finding delegation told the BBC on 14 November that 60 to 70 per cent of civilians from Jaghori and Malestan had been displaced (the figure might be only from areas that experienced actual fighting, though). Most of those fleeing the violence, or threat of violence, travelled to Bamyan, Ghazni and Kabul, while smaller groups of IDPs from Khas Uruzgan, Malestan and Jaghori arrived in Tirinkot, the capital of Uruzgan province, and Daikundi.

Bamyan: During the fighting, the number of IDPs arriving in Bamyan rose rapidly. On 13 November, the head of Bamyan’s department of refugees and repatriation told AAN that his staff had counted 2,000 arrivals, mainly from Jaghori. The next day, Ismail Zaki, a human rights activist in Bamyan, told AAN that a total of 450 families (around 4,000 people, most of them women and children) had arrived. The night before, snowfall had closed the road and many cars had become stuck in Nawur district of Ghazni. According to a UNOCHA flash update of 21 November, “the unverified figures of IDP families in Bamyan Center rose from 930 families (6,510 individuals) to 1,208 families (8,456 individuals).”

Zaki said that around 50 families had been given shelter in the state-run Garzandoy Hotel; the rest had been hosted by local residents. He himself also hosted two families – 22 people, all women and children – who had arrived in Bamyan by car. The drivers, he said, had been 13 and 14 years old. Apparently, many of the drivers had been under-age and often not skilled enough for the long road, but they had had to drive because their fathers had either stayed back in the villages, to protect their properties, or were abroad. Zaki said that he himself had seen two young girls drive their families to Bamyan.

Ghazni: On 20 November, the BBC quoted the head of Ghazni’s provincial department of refugees, Abdul Khaleq Ahmadi, as saying that 2,511 families had been displaced to Ghazni, 70 per cent of whom were women and children (the figure was also reported by OCHA in its flash update, cited above). The IDPs had faced many problems on the way. The Taleban closed the Nawur-Ghazni city road on 13 November and many who had fled Jaghori and Malestan were forced to turn back. The road between Sang-e Masha and Ghazni city, through Qarabagh district, had also been closed since the day the Taleban attacked Jaghori, although it was not clear whether the Taleban had really blocked it or whether people had simply not dared to travel on it.

On 9 November, the Taleban cut off two major telecommunication networks (Roshan and Etisalat) in Jaghori and Malestan, which rendered many people unable to contact their family members there.

A person who travelled the Nawur-Ghazni road on 15 November told AAN that it was reopened but that the Taleban had stopped vehicles and checked passengers’ tazkeras (national ID cards). One traveller who had been stopped told AAN that he had been asked what his occupation was and whether he had gone to school, whether there was any fighting in Jaghori, whether he had a Facebook account, how many people in Jaghori had become Christian and how many churches there were. He said the Taleban also checked his hands (perhaps to see whether he was a white- or blue-collar worker) and had taken his Facebook address.

Kabul: OCHA’s flash update of 21 November said that in Kabul “the number of reported and unverified IDP families stood at 1,066 families (7,462 individuals). 123 families (861 individuals), out of the 642 families (4,494 individuals) that were verified, were identified as vulnerable and in need of humanitarian assistance.” OCHA suggested there was “a new trend” of IDPs moving from Malestan and Jaghori to Kabul and then to Bamyan.

People were also displaced within Jaghori and Malestan. Their numbers, according to OCHA, were estimated to be 500 and 600 families respectively. Moreover, a female teacher who had escaped the fighting in her village told AAN that all schools had been closed since 8 November, the second day of the attack on Jaghori (which according to this Etilaat Roz report has 105 schools – 62 high, 22 middle and 21 primary – where 50,686 pupils – 26,694 male and 23,988 female – are enrolled).

This high number of IDPs seems to indicate both a high level of fear of the Taleban and the atrocities they may commit when taking over the areas (especially after the reports of indiscriminate killing in Khas Uruzgan), and a lack of confidence in the government’s ability to effectively protect the population. Both points are reflected in this Washington Post article that says:

One militiaman who fled to Bamian, Habibullah Ahmadi, 48, said he had lost faith that the government would protect them. Several others said that Taliban representatives had told villagers they wouldn’t be harmed if they stayed indoors, but that nobody trusted them.

 

(1) A source from Khas Uruzgan provided the following details:

In Hussaini, five people were killed on the first day of the attack (including three people aged above 70): three people were made to disembark a vehicle and were then killed; two people were dragged out of their homes and killed outside. There was no fighting on the second night. On the third night, villagers returned to their houses to feed their livestock (cows, sheep and goats). Four people were killed: one of them was Ibrahim who was aged 84; two others were killed while trying to flee the village; one person who had visited his family in Kondolan was killed when he returned to Hussaini.

In Kondolan the following killings were reported: On the fourth day, Haji Abdullah, aged 69, who had just returned from hajj was killed when some Taleban fighters went to his house for tea (and possibly bread or food). He was providing the tea when another Taleban fighter arrived; as he stood to greet and hug him, the Taleban fighter shot him to death.

On the sixth day, one person called Ishaq Jaghori Gu (he was called Jaghori Gu because he had lived in Jaghori for a while) was taken out of his home and killed in front of his house. A young person, aged 18 or 19, was killed in a valley after he had been taken from his home. Two people who had been guests in Karez were killed with gun bayonets.

(2) One source who originally comes from Khas Uruzgan told AAN that the woman fought back the Taleban fighters, allowing Shujai to escape. The woman was later captured by the Taleban and taken away. He also said that three of Shujai’s men had been killed.

(3) The delegation that was tasked with “finding the root cause of how the conflict occurred, take action to solve it, and submit its findings to the president” consisted of the following people: Ustad Muhammad Akbari, a Ghazni MP; Mawlawi Muhammad Jora Taheri and Mawlawi Mohiuddin Baluch, both presidential advisers for religions affairs; Eid Muhammad Ahmadi, presidential adviser for social affairs; Muhammad Alam Rasekh, presidential adviser for scientific and social affairs; Mawlawi Sayyed Rahman Haqani Pashai, adviser to the Commission for Conflict Resolution and People’s Relation with the Government; authorised representatives of the Ministry of Defence, Ministry of Interior Affair and National Directorate of Security (NDS); Attorney General’s Office; Independent Directorate of Local Governance (IDLG) and the Department of Defence and Security in the administrative office of the president.

(4) On 4 November 2018, the deputy presidential spokesman, Shah Hussain Murtazawi, posted a new version of the decree on his Facebook page (but still with the original date of 1 November). The new decree called for an investigation into “the civilian casualties of the recent incident in Uruzgan province” and added two new – Hazara – members to the delegation (Dr Muhammad Rasul Taleban, presidential adviser on social affairs, and Muhammad Aziz Bakhtyari, presidential adviser on social and cultural affairs). The head of the delegation, Asadullah Falah, when visiting the area later on 7 November, told the residents of Malestan that the fighting in Uruzgan had been “misreported” to the president as ethnically based.

(5) Most sources agree that well over 50 people were killed in Khas Uruzgan alone. A former official in Khas Uruzgan said 58 people had been killed. Former governor of Daikundi Qurban Ali Uruzgani told AAN he had received reports that 57 people had been martyred, 25 people wounded (some still under treatment) and six people captured who had subsequently been released.

A source provided the following list of 41 people killed in the fighting in Khas Uruzgan:

• Four from Hamza: Khan Muhammad, son of Ali Hamza; Mullah Daud, son of Mullah Baz Muhammad; Ahmad Shah, son of Haji Nabi; Muhammad Esa, son of Baz Muhammad
• Eight from Hussaini: Shir Mahdawi, son of Madad; Muhammad Ali, son of Qanbar; Salman, son of Aziz; Usta Salman; Ibrahim, son of Mami; Sultan, son of Sami; Rezwani, son of Tata; Amir Khan, son of Shah Hussain
• Eleven from Kondolan: Abdul Khaleq, son of Mullah Bustan; Eshaq, son of Juma; Jan Ali, son of Askar; Sakhidad, son of Khan; Abdul Samad, son of Arbab Haidar; Eshaq, son of Ghulam Hussain; Reza, son of Ghulam Hussain; Reza, son of Ghulam Sakhi; Amir Khan, son of Shah Hussain; Jan Ali, son of Ghulam; Khudad, son of Nawruz
• Five from Kariz: Abdul Khaleq, son of Eshaq; Qambar, son of Eshaq; Akhar Muhammad, son of Abdul Zawar; Shir Muhammad, son of Ghulam Ali; Malek Abdullah, son of Ghulam Reza
• One from Pashi: Fakuri
• One from Paik
• Three from Zardak: Haji Abdul Hussain Rahimi, son of Ali Rahm; Hamid Muradi, son of Muhammad; Karbalayi Amin Saadat, son of Haji Ghulam Hussain
• One from Jaghori: Ustad Muhammad Taqi Fazilat

He added that this was not a complete list, since many victims had not been identified yet. Several sources also said the Taleban had not allowed people to film or photograph the dead and those who buried them did not recognise some of them as they had been defaced with bullets.

(6) As AAN has written (in this background paper on militias), the ALP in its current form was created out of local militias in 2010. “Since 2012, it has become increasingly institutionalised within the Ministry of Interior. Another type of local force also emerged from 2012 onwards. So-called ‘uprising forces’ (patsunian in Pashto and khezesh in Persian) were supposedly spontaneous rebellions organised by locals against the insurgency, although they usually turned out to have been prompted by or were soon supported/co-opted by the National Directorate of Security (NDS) and/or Independent Directorate of Local Government (IDLG).”

The forces that fought back the Taleban in the Hazara areas in Khas Uruzgan, Malestan and Jaghori, and that have been referred to in as uprising forces in some media reports,  might have been part of these forces, but they may have also taken up arms spontaneously to repel the Taleban’s attacks.

(7) The Taleban released a video on 23 November that showed a cameraman talking with local residents and local Taleban fighters in the Anguri and Deh Murda areas of Jaghori. A Taleban fighter in Anguri told him: “We have been here for the last several days. When we first came here, there were eight security posts. We defeated the policemen and uprising people and several of them were killed. When we got close to the Anguri area, someone was wounded in front of his house. He was receiving several calls. After he was wounded, we took his weapons. Later when he died, we learned that he was Habibullah Bashi [Bashi Habib].”

 

The Afghan Government and United Nations will co-host the Geneva ministerial conference on 28 November 2018. This is the 13th high-level international conference on Afghanistan since 2001. The focus of the conference will be peace efforts and development, but it will also be an opportunity to assess the Afghan government’s reform efforts and reconfirm commitments made by donors to Afghanistan at the Brussels conference in 2016. Ahead of the conference, the AAN team answers some key questions regarding what will and will not be discussed at the event.

1. What is the Geneva conference about?

The Geneva conference is a non-pledging ministerial-level conference between the Afghan government and its international supporters. The conference will be co-hosted by the Afghan government and the UN, and will take place at the Palais des Nations, the UN headquarters in Geneva, Switzerland (for more details, see the Afghan Government’s official website on the Geneva conference and for an overview of the conference, see UNAMA’s website, here).

The main focus of the conference will be the peace effort and development.It will also be an opportunity for the government to present its track record on reforms and for the international community to reconfirm its commitments for development priorities until 2020. More specifically, the Afghan government will aim to show that it is on track with the implementation of the Afghanistan National Peace and Development Framework (ANPDF), the five-year strategic framework for self-reliance adopted in 2017. It will also need to show the progress made on the 24 commitments agreed upon at the 2016 Brussels conference, called the new Self-Reliance through Mutual Accountability Framework (SMAF) indicators or SMART deliverables (for the July 2018 progress reports see here and here), and, in particular, that it has delivered on most of the six commitments mutually agreed upon to be a minimum threshold for the Geneva conference. These were decided at a meeting of the Joint Coordination and Monitoring Board (JCMB) in July 2018 and included benchmarks such as holding parliamentary elections, which were held on 20 October but were marred by significant organisational shortcomings (the announcement of the final election results has been delayed once again and is now scheduled for the end of the year (see AAN dossier on elections preparations here and reporting on the elections here, here and here). The government will also need to show commitments made towards anti-corruption efforts (for the Afghan government’s progress, see the latest UNAMA report here, as well as the latest Special Inspector General for Afghanistan Reconstruction – SIGAR –  report here), as well as advances in security sector reform (see AAN reporting here and here). It will also need to show that it has met the International Monetary Fund’s (IMF) benchmarks in macroeconomic stability, fiscal and financial reforms; that it has fostered private sector development; and worked towards the development of the ten National Priority Programs (NPPs).

According to the ANDF draft progress report prepared by the Afghan Ministry of Finance for the Geneva Conference, which AAN has seen, the Afghan government has, as of late October 2018, met “38 per cent of deliverables it set out had been fully achieved, with 45 per cent partially achieved.” The report said that the highest performing sectors were “justice sector reform, fiscal and economic reforms, growth through regional integration, public sector and civil service reforms and security sector reforms.”

The draft final report on the implementation of the 24 indictors agreed on at the Brussels conference (and seen by AAN) shows that, of these indicators agreed on in 2016, only 10 have been fully achieved, two are still in their initial phase and the remaining 12 have only either partially been achieved or only minor parts of a commitment have been achieved.

The two-day conference in Geneva will comprise a main event and a series of side meetings. It will start with a day of high-level side events (on women’s empowerment; private sector; people on the move; food security and livelihoods in times of drought) and four side meetings (regional connectivity and infrastructure; human rights; growth and development and counter-narcotics) on 27 November. This will be followed by four additional side meetings (anti-corruption; population dynamics; sustainable development goals (SDGs); Women Peace Process and NAP 1325, and the ministerial conference itself on 28 November. (For the agenda of the main event and an overview of side events and meetings, see here.)

On 28 November the Swiss and Afghan foreign ministers, Ignazio Cassis and Salahuddin Rabbani, will deliver the conference’s welcoming statement. Almost the entire morning part of the ministerial conference on 28 November will be dedicated to the topic of peace. The two key-note presenters here will be President Ashraf Ghani and UN Secretary-General António Guterres.

The rest of the day will be dedicated to presentations of the results from the side events and statements by regional and bilateral partners. There will also be feedback on the four side events held on 27 November focusing on the inclusion of women, economic development, migration, and climate change, the latter included in a session entitled ‘food insecurity in times of drought’. (The term ‘climate change’ itself will not be used, at least not in the programme, on the insistence of the US government, various diplomatic sources in Kabul have confirmed to AAN.) Key-note speakers for the first two events will be Rula Ghani, the Afghan president’s wife, who often takes on humanitarian issues, and Ashraf Ghani, respectively, while Chief Executive Abdullah will be the key note speaker for the last two events. The background documents of the side events provide a sobering reality check for the Ministry of Finance’s progress report. The background document on migration, for example, underlines that:

Afghans remain one of the largest displaced populations in the world with approximately 6 million Afghans residing in Iran and Pakistan; over 850,000 residing in the EU; and an estimated 2 million internally displaced. Afghan refugees constitute almost 15 per cent of the global refugee population and more than half of the 4.1 million refugees in protracted forced displacement of 20 years or longer.

The background document on food security and drought outlines the impact of conflict and climate change within Afghanistan:

Afghanistan is experiencing high – and rapidly rising – rates of food insecurity. The 2017 Afghan Living Conditions Survey (ALCS) found that 44.6 percent of the population is food insecure, an almost 12 percent increase from 2014. While conflict is a significant driver of this deteriorating situation, it is increasingly recognized that climate change is also having profound impacts on the food security of the Afghan population. […] In 2018, a major drought has left over 1.4 million people in need of urgent assistance. Given the country’s highly fragile ecosystems, the negative impacts will only increase over time, undermining agriculture, the leading economic sector, and contributing to displacement and continued instability, reinforcing the conflict.

It is relevant to note that the conference will be carried out mainly in English with translation into all six official UN languages at both the side events and the main conference on 27 and 28 November. According to the UN logistics document for the conference, “No interpretation will be available in any other language”. There will thus be no translation into either of Afghanistan’s two official languages. The same applies to the civil society event (more about this in part 4). The Afghan civil society organisations selecting their delegates for Geneva have therefore been requested to only send English speakers. This is problematic, as it excludes activists from the Afghan provinces where the operational languages are Dari and Pashto.

2. What are the expected outcomes of the conference?

While the Brussels conference in 2016 was a pledging conference, the Geneva conference will be focused on reviewing progress on commitments, as well as discussing policy and strategy. The formal outcomes of the conference are expected to be a Joint Communiqué and the renewal of Afghanistan’s commitments to international partners renamed as the Geneva Mutual Accountability Framework (GMAF).

A version of the draft communiqué seen by AAN takes note of the previous year’s “efforts to achieve peace” by the government, and includes an appeal from the signatories of the Joint Communiqué “to the Taliban and other parties to the conflict to embrace these opportunities for peace, especially the government’s offer to hold talks without preconditions.” Nasir Ahmad Andisha, Deputy Foreign Minister for Management and Resources, told Tolo news that the Geneva conference was about creating a ‘united definition of peace’ agreed on by international and regional actors.

In the development section of the draft communiqué, the deliberations on Afghanistan’s economic development are put into a regional context. It emphasises “continued efforts by regional partner countries, organizations and mechanisms such as the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO), the Heart of Asia – Istanbul Process, CAREC (Central Asia Regional Economic Cooperation Program) and the Regional Economic Cooperation Conference on Afghanistan (RECCA).” It mentions “the establishment and expansion of air and ground corridors that facilitate products from Afghanistan accessing international markets, and other regional initiatives.” (1)

The Geneva Mutual Accountability Framework  (GMAF) should be aligned with the ANPDF and the National Priority Programs (NPPs) and sets out measurable reform objectives for 2019-2020 (see here for the NPPs).

3. What were the previous international conferences on Afghanistan about?

The Geneva conference is the thirteenth high-level, international conference. Since the 2001 US-led intervention in Afghanistan, these conferences have usually been co-hosted by the Afghan government and changing international actors. This is the first time that no bilateral donor country has been ready to host the conference, according to multiple diplomatic sources in Kabul. The UN is therefore filling this gap. The EU, a major donor to Afghanistan, hosted the last conference.

The first international conference on Afghanistan was organised in Bonn in December 2001. There, Afghan and international representatives agreed on a road map for the re-establishment of permanent, democratically elected Afghan government institutions, the so-called Bonn Process. This process was to culminate in simultaneous presidential and parliamentary elections, to be held at the latest by June 2004. However, the presidential election was only held in October 2004, and the parliamentary elections had to be postponed for a year for organisational reasons.

In January 2002, the Tokyo conference on Afghanistan saw international donors pledge over 1.8 billion US dollars to rebuild Afghanistan, and over three billion US dollars for the years after (see AAN’s Kate Clark reporting here).

The Berlin conference on Afghanistan in April 2004 was supposed to mark the end of the Bonn Process, but participants were only able to note the “substantial progress” achieved since the Bonn Agreement of 2001, mainly the new Afghan constitution adopted at the 2003 Constitutional Loya Jirga (see an AAN account of this event here). Multi-year commitments were made for the “reconstruction and development” of Afghanistan, totalling 8.2 billion US dollars for the Afghan fiscal years 1383 – 1385 (March 2004 – March 2007), including a pledge of 4.4 billion US dollars for 1383 alone (March 2004 – March 2005).

In January 2006 at the London conference, the Bonn Process was formally declared successfully finalised. There, a first set of benchmarks were adopted based on what was called the Afghanistan Compact. This overarching conference document identified three areas of activities: security; governance, the rule of law and human rights; and economic and social development. Under each of these thematic areas, a number of benchmarks and target timelines were defined. Additionally, key principles of aid effectiveness were agreed on between donors and government, including to “increase the proportion of donor assistance channelled directly through the core budget, as agreed bilaterally between the Government and each donor” (see annex two of the Afghanistan Compact on pp 13 and 14, here). In April 2006, the Joint Coordination and Monitoring Board (JCMB), made up of the government of Afghanistan and its international supporters, was established and tasked with the strategic coordination and monitoring of the implementation of the Afghanistan Compact and the Interim Afghanistan National Development Strategy (IANDS).

In June 2008, at the Paris conference, co-hosted by the French and Afghan governments and the UN, international donors pledged an additional 21 billion US dollars to Afghanistan. The conference reaffirmed the Afghanistan Compact as the agreed basis for cooperation, as well as a new commitment to support the Afghanistan National Development Strategy (ANDS) for 2008-13.

In 2009, after the Den Haag international conference, co-hosted (as in Paris) by tripartite chairs, the communiqué emphasised that “effective, well-funded civilian programmes are as necessary as additional military forces and training programmes.” The participants agreed to significantly expand the resources and personnel devoted to civilian ‘capacity-building’ programmes, and pledged to improve aid effectiveness, in line with the June 2008 Paris Declaration.

In 2010, there were two major international conferences, in addition to the Lisbon NATO summit, where the plan for a phased handover of security responsibility from NATO and ISAF to the Afghan security forces (Inteqal)was announced.

At the 2010 London conference on Afghanistan, it was agreed that Kabul would gradually take over responsibilities for running the war and running the country over the following five years (see also previous AAN reporting). In July 2010, as had been agreed in London, the Kabul conference was held. There, ‘mutual progress’ on commitments was reviewed. Under the motto ‘Afghan-owned and Afghan-led’, President Karzai launched 22 National Priority Programmes grouped in six ‘clusters’ and asked for 15 billion US dollars in pledges (see also AAN previous reporting here; here; and here).

While new programmes and agreements have been negotiated ahead of every new conference, ‘progress’ has remained elusive, as noted by AAN’s Thomas Ruttig in 2010:

A glance at the recent international conferences exhibits vague and unknown progress, even by the rough statistics. For example, in 2006 the government of Afghanistan introduced the Afghanistan Compact at an international conference in London. The Afghanistan Compact was a comprehensive plan to address some of the basic and fundamental social development and governance priorities of the Afghan government and its people. However, right after two years of the Afghanistan Compact, another plan was introduced at the Paris Conference and that was the Afghanistan National Development Strategy. Again two years down the line, Afghanistan sees almost no significant signs of the implementation of the ANDS on the ground. It is worth mentioning, that the Comprehensive Strategy concluded at the Hague Conference last year too has remained unachieved so far.

In Lisbon, on 20 November 2010, the nations that contributed troops to ISAF issued a declaration (Lisbon Declaration on Afghanistan) announcing what they called ‘Afghanistan’s Transition’ – the gradual withdrawal of foreign forces and their replacement by Afghan ones. This transition to full Afghan security responsibility and leadership was to begin in early 2011 “following a joint Afghan and NATO/ISAF assessment and decision” and aimed to have the Afghan National Security Forces (ANSF) “lead and conduct security operations in all provinces by the end of 2014” (See also comments by AAN’s Thomas Ruttig ahead of the Lisbon summit here, a discussion of the phased handover here for an overview on NATO summits on Afghanistan see AAN reporting here.)

Nevertheless, 2010 marked the beginning of the so-called “process of transition,” which was to be completed by the end of 2014 and followed by a “transformation decade” (2015-2024). This was also a main message from an international conference held in Bonn in 2011, to mark the tenth anniversary since the first international conference on Afghanistan in 2001.  Even the title of the conclusions from this conference “Afghanistan and the International Community: From Transition to the Transformation Decade” shows the spirit of a long commitment and two clearly defined processes that are in sequel to each other – from a military transition to a social and political transformation.

In July 2012, Afghanistan’s donors pledged 16 billion US dollars for the country’s economic and development needs at another international conference in Tokyo (see a UNAMA report here and rather more critical reporting by AAN here). The Tokyo pledges were made in response to the Afghan government’s strategy document, “Towards Self-Reliance”.This ambitious new strategy sought “sustainable growth and development” through the National Priority Programs (NPPs), focusing on economic growth, revenue generation, job creation and human development. The conference further agreed to a new set of benchmarks, known as the Tokyo Mutual Accountability Framework (TMAF).

Although, according to Afghan Ministry of Finance figures, 57 billion US dollars had already been disbursed in development aid between 2002 and 2010, with largely varying results, pledges and money continued to be given to a country with a very weak rule of law, virtually no mechanisms to control corruption and growing insecurity in large parts of the country. (For more details, see also AAN’s e-book Snapshot of an Intervention. The Unlearned Lessons of Afghanistan’s Decade of Assistance 2001–2011 and a recent SIGAR report Corruption in Conflict: Lessons from the U.S. Experience in Afghanistan.)

In December 2014, the tenth international conference on Afghanistan was held, again in London. This time the then-new Afghan president, Ashraf Ghani, presented a new reform programme entitled “Realizing Self-Reliance: Commitments to Reforms and Renewed Partnership”. The conference was not an explicit pledging event. Moreover, the National Unity Government had not been able to do much by that point, as it had been unable to agree on its cabinet. The conference communiqué thus simply stated that “the International Community reiterated its commitment, as set out in the Tokyo Declaration, to direct significant and continuing but declining financial support towards Afghanistan’s social and economic development priorities through the Transformation Decade.” (See AAN reporting on the London conference here). Ghani’s government at the Senior Officials Meeting held in September 2015 introduced a new document, the “Self-Reliance through Mutual Accountability Framework” (SMAF), which consolidated both its new reform agenda and the previous TMAF benchmarks, laying out a set of 39 benchmarks.

In October 2016, the European Union (EU) and the Afghan government co-hosted the Brussels conference (see AAN’s dispatch here). The conference resulted in the endorsement of and continued commitment to the three pillars of the Afghan government’s programme for the transformation decade (2015-2024). These included a commitment to an Afghan-led state and institution-building as outlined by the Afghanistan National Peace and Development Framework (ANPDF) and as measured by 24 indictors agreed upon in the new Self-Reliance through Mutual Accountability Framework (SMAF), called SMART SMAF (see here and here). The donors also committed to sustain international support and funding at or near current levels through 2020 with increased aid effectiveness. The third commitment included regional and international support for a political process towards lasting peace and reconciliation.

International donors pledged a total of 15.2 billion US dollars to support this agenda. The Geneva conference is an opportunity to review progress and commitments made at the Brussels conference.

4. What is the role of civil society at the conference?

Ten civil society delegates (half of them women – see the list and bios here) will participate in the high-level side events, the side meetings and the main Geneva Conference. This resembles the practice of previous conference. (2)

The Civil Society Working Committee (CSWC), a composition of the main umbrella civil society organisations, in cooperation with the co-hosts of the Geneva Conference identified, interviewed and selected the delegates. For developing their position paper, the Afghan civil society organisations held focus group meetings at the provincial level to collect civil society activists’ opinions. The result was discussed in a two-day national conference in Kabul on 11 and 12 October. This process was technically supported by the advocacy and networking organisation, the British and Irish Agencies Afghanistan Group (BAAG). Two of the delegates, one woman and one man, will present this position paper at the main conference on 28 November.

In addition to this, a one-day civil society event will be held on 26 November in Geneva, organised by BAAG. The event is envisaged as a series of working group discussions, which should determine key  civil society requests from the donor community and government related to governance (elections, anti-corruption); security and peacebuilding; civic space; humanitarian issues (drought, people on the move); service provision (livelihoods, education, health) and gender equality and rights. Representatives of the donor community and the Afghan government are expected to join the civil society event in the afternoon of 26 November, when BAAG will present to them the key requests defined in the six working groups’ discussions.

Two of the civil society activists at the Geneva conference – one who will be the spokesperson for the ten official civil society delegates, the other will participate on behalf of his organisation outside the delegation – told AAN that, apart from one meeting with the Ministry of Finance, the conference organiser on behalf of the Afghan government, there was no prior consultation with the government. Naim Ayubzada, the spokesperson said that the meeting that took place on 16 November consisted of a briefing about the conference and was merely “symbolic.” He said that prior to earlier conferences, the government had consulted a broader array of civil society organisations based in Kabul, including those that did not have delegates. Ayubzada did not believe that their inputs would be included in the official conference documents. Abdullah Ahmadi, the chairperson of the Civil Society Joint Working Group who will travel to Geneva as one of several other organisations’ representatives participating on behalf of this group, confirmed that the government did not seek consultations with those groups

5. What difference do such conferences make?

Seventeen years since the international military intervention in Afghanistan and 12 conferences later – almost one conference every year and a half – progress in Afghanistan remains elusive. The Taleban control growing swaths of the country (see the latest SIGAR report); the government-run basic services, such as education and health, have been rife with corruption, and the population’s access to them has become more difficult due to the security situation (see AAN reporting here; see this MEC report about corruption in the Ministry of Public Health from June 2016 here; see also this SIGAR report on corruption in the health sector).

The Geneva conference, nevertheless – like the previous 12 high-level, international conferences on Afghanistan – will provide an opportunity to show donor governments’ and international organisations’ continuing commitment to Afghanistan and Afghans. Although this is largely symbolic, it is a chance to obtain public and media attention for a conflict that has increasingly dropped from the centre stage of world politics, although it continues to escalate (see this AAN analysis). With the Syrian war partially subsiding, Afghanistan is possibly becoming, once again, the most violent conflict worldwide (see this ICG quote) and a country whose population’s majority still lives beneath the poverty line.

The conference will also provide an opportunity to scrutinise the ever-changing indictors by which progress is measured, whose changes are often a question of semantics, but which always describe the same desired outcomes – less corruption, more peace, better security and governance. (See also this 2012 AAN report about “NATO’s effective abandonment of a conditions-based approach in implementing the [security] transition” – a phenomenon also witnessed in the tacit dropping or revising of agreed benchmarks in other fields).

For a few weeks, once again, Afghanistan will not only be the focus of diplomatic missions in the country and Afghanistan desks in capitals, but background briefs and speaking points will be read and edited at the highest levels of government and international organisations. This is also why the most important part of the Geneva conference will be the preparatory phase: the many meetings between the co-chairs about the what is on the agenda and what is not, preparing preliminary drafts of outcome documents and smoothing out possible diplomatic hiccups or crises in advance.

The outcome of an international conference like this will depend on how well it is negotiated before it begins. Realistic outcomes that all key actors can agree on are more likely to be implemented and easier to monitor. This is also why it is important that civil society – in all its varied forms – have an input throughout the process. Their delegates can also cut through diplomatic formulas and clearly point out the miseries the Afghan people continue to face. They did this, for example, at the December 2011 ‘Bonn 2’ conference, where, as AAN reported, the two civil society representatives that were allowed to address the main governmental plenum (of a delegation of 34) delivered “the strongest message of the day“ (our report here; unfortunately the link to their full speech, on the Afghan president’s website, is broken now). (3)

The failure to have a broader and topical consultations process with civil society organisations across the spectrum, not simply limited to Kabul, indicates that civil society involvement in such conferences remains largely formalistic. Consigning them to side events, and only allowing them a short statement and inclusion in the photo opportunity at the end is far from sufficient.

 

(1) This includes “the [two regional electricity transmission systems, the planned first phase of an integrated regional energy market in East, Central and South Asia]CASA [Central Asia-South Asia]-1000, TUTAP (Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, Afghanistan, Pakistan power project), the groundbreaking [sic] of the Afghanistan segment of the TAPI gas line, and the signing of the [Afghanistan-Black Sea] Lapis Lazuli Corridor Agreement, and the Trilateral Trade and Transit Agreement on Chabahar were conceded top priorities of the government of Afghanistan for achieving self-reliance.” (For news on the Lapis Lazuli Corridor Agreement, see here).

(2) Here are references to civil society in the documents from previous conferences:

• Brussels 2016 communiqué:

We recognize the role of civil society and media in Afghanistan’s development and the need to include civil society in the political processes. We welcome the Afghan civil society’s contributions to the Conference and recognize also the contributions of international NGOs, both for Afghanistan’s development and in partnership with Afghan civil society, including in the provision of humanitarian assistance. 

• London 2014 communiqué:

The Participants recognised the important role Afghan civil society has played in Afghanistan’s development. The Participants welcomed the Afghan Government’s commitment to the constructive, on-going dialogue with civil society, including Afghan women’s organisations, to ensure Afghan civil society’s full and meaningful involvement in key political processes, strengthening governance and the rule of law, as well as the development, oversight and monitoring of the refreshed TMAF. The Participants also noted the importance of protecting and strengthening free media. The Participants acknowledged the Afghan civil society statement at the Conference and welcomed the outcomes and conclusions of the Afghan civil society-led “Ayenda” associated event on 3 and 4 December. The Participants also noted the role that international NGOs play in development in Afghanistan as well supporting Afghan Civil Society and recognised as important their traditional role in humanitarian assistance in the future. 

• Tokyo 2012 conference communiqué:

The Participants took note of the statement by Afghan civil society organizations at the Tokyo Conference. The Participants also welcomed the results of the civil society event jointly organized by Japanese and Afghan NGOs on July 7 in Tokyo.

• Kabul 2010 conference communiqué:

The Kabul Process is to include annual meetings between the Afghan Government, the international community, and civil society, including those providing services, to promote norms and standards for mutual accountability.  

(3) It is worth re-reading AAN’s reporting from this conference, as it will become apparent how similar problems discussed there are to those still on the agenda in 2018, speaking for a lack of progress made over those years. On the civil society forum, here and here, on the main conference here and here.

The Afghanistan Opium Survey 2018 released today by the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC) shows decrease of a fifth in the countrywide cultivation of opium compared to the previous years. The 263,000 hectares under the cultivation in Afghanistan this year was still the second largest score for Afghanistan since the UNODC began systematic monitoring in 1994. Also, poppy weeding and harvesting still provided the equivalent of 345,000 full- time jobs into the country’s widely impoverished rural areas. AAN’s Jelena Bjelica looks at where the decrease has taken the place and the main reasons behind it.

In 2018, Afghanistan cultivated 65,000 fewer hectares of opium poppy than in the previous year (see here). The total area under opium poppy cultivation decreased to 263,000 hectares in 2018, from 328,000 hectares in 2017, when more opium was grown and more opium paste produced in Afghanistan than in any year since the UNODC began monitoring in 1994 (see AAN previous analysis here). This year’s decrease, however, was not particularly significant. Moreover, poppy cultivation was as widespread as ever. As in 2017, 24 out of Afghanistan’s 34 provinces grew opium poppy, (1) three up from 2016. The area under poppy cultivation in Afghanistan in 2018 was still the second largest since 1994.

The decline in cultivation was mainly caused by the drought which is severely affecting the west and the north of the country – in the words of locals from the northwest, it is the worst drought they can remember (see previous AAN analysis here). Consequently, opium poppy cultivation decreased by 24,000 hectares in the northern region (or 56 per cent compared to last year’s levels) and by 23,000 hectares (or 43 per cent compared by last year’s levels) in the western region. In Badghis province, which belongs (in UNODC’s categorisation) to the western region and had seen a gradual increase in poppy cultivation in the last several years, cultivation decreased by 30 per cent this year (see this AAN analysis). A small decrease was also recorded in the south of the country where opium poppy was grown on some 15,000 fewer hectares than last year. However, the decrease in the south, the UNODC said, was mainly to do with a decrease in the price of dry opium at last year’s harvest time. David Mansfield, the veteran British expert on Afghanistan’s opium economy, speaking before the release of the UNODC figures:

Helmand was touch and go on levels of cultivation… There were signs of increases in the desert area (and much better yields) but it was not completely clear what would happen in the Canal [the irrigated part of central Helmand]. Ultimately, fighting certainly seemed to lead to some rather large areas of abandoned land.

Opium production, opium yields – also down

The UNODC estimated that the potential opium production would be 6,400 tons in 2018. This is a decrease of 29 per cent from 2017 when Afghanistan produced more opium paste than ever before, an estimated 9,000 metric tons, compared to 4,800 metric tons in 2016 (see here).

According to the UNDOC, the decrease in production was mainly due to decreases in the area under opium poppy cultivation. However, more modest yields also contributed to the general reduction. This year’s average yield was 24.4 kilogrammes per hectare, as compared to 27.3 kg/ha kilogrammes per hectare in 2017. Additionally, the UNODC said, yields in some regions decreased much more substantially than others – by 47 per cent in the central region, 29 per cent in the eastern region and 19 per cent in the northern region. Yields remained relatively stable in the west and the north-east and in the south, which accounts for over two-thirds of the entire national production of opium, yields decreased by just eight per cent and had a relatively minor impact on the harvest there.

Helmand has also seen a continuing trend of farmers investing in advanced agricultural methods, including solar panels for powering irrigation pumps and specific fertilisers and pesticides. These have allowed Helmandi farmers to grow opium profitably, even under unfavourable conditions. This was also shown in two recent Mansfield studies published by AREU (in 2017 and 2018).

Decrease in prices

According to the UNODC, the farm-gate price of dry opium at harvest time fell to 94 US dollars per kilogramme. This, UNODC said, was the lowest price (after adjusting for inflation) of opium at harvest time since 2004. The average price of opium in 2017 at the time of harvest was 131 USD/kg, down by 14 per cent from 152 USD/kg in 2016. This means that, within two years, the price of dry opium has dropped by more than one-third.

The decrease in farm-gate prices resulted in a 56 per cent reduction in the farm-gate value of the total opium harvest in 2018; estimated at 604 million US dollars this year, it equates to only three per cent of the country’s GDP (based on a 2.4 percent growth rate in 2018, the World Bank is projecting an end or 2018 GDP of 1,450 billion Afghanis or 19.93 billion US dollars). The estimated farm-gate value in 2017 was equivalent to roughly seven per cent of Afghanistan’s estimated GDP, or around 1.4 billion USD, (see also this AAN analysis about the opium economy here). That year, the farm-gate value of the crop increased by 55 per cent compared to 2016 values because of the sheer volume of production, ie the unprecedented amount of opium poppy cultivated and subsequently opium paste produced.

What about eradication?

Government-led eradication remains negligible; in 2018 only 406 hectares of opium poppy were eradicated, out of a total of 263,000 hectares in four provinces, compared to 750 hectares in 14 provinces in 2017. (355 hectares of opium poppy were eradicated in seven provinces in 2016.)

Nevertheless, the US air campaign against drug-related targets which began on 19 November 2017 (see AAN analysis here; see also this paper by Mansfield), has continued in 2018. The Wall Street Journal reported in August this year that US airstrikes had hit about 200 drug-related targets, with nearly half of them in southern Afghanistan’s Helmand province. “The air campaign,” said the Journal, “has wiped out about 46 million USD in Taleban revenue.” Mansfield, however, challenged this, arguing that “heroin profits and taxes are not as large as U.S. forces estimate and bombing drug labs will have a negligible effect on Taliban revenues.” (See Mansfield’s quote in the Special Inspector General for Afghanistan Reconstruction – SIGAR latest report, p 86 here). Mansfield in his AREU October 2018 paper, “Stirring Up the Hornet’s Nest” wrote:

Farmers in Helmand view this campaign quite differently and see it as further evidence of a campaign of violence waged against them. They do not recognise the claims of “a narco-insurgency,” or the suggestion that the drugs business is somehow the insurgency’s primary objective, as suggested by a US special operations commander in Afghanistan.

According to SIGAR’s latest report, the United States has committed an average of more than 1.5 million USD a day to help the Afghan government combat narcotics between 2002 and September 2018.

As of 30 September 2018, U.S. counternarcotics-related appropriations for that purpose had reached 8.88 billion US Dollars. Despite massive expenditures for programs including poppy-crop eradication, drug seizures and interdictions, alternative-livelihood support, aviation support, and incentives for provincial governments the drug trade remains entrenched in Afghanistan, and is growing.

Conclusion

Although the area under cultivation decreased and Afghanistan produced less opium this year, the 2018 levels it is only a decrease on scores for 2017 which were the highest since 1994. The drought severely affected production and yields in the north and west and in the country’s opium production powerhouse, Helmand, lower prices last year appears to have reduced the incentive for some farmers to sow poppy this year. As to counter-narcotics strategies, those by the government were symbolic only and the US-led counter-narcotics air campaign, according to Mansfield, has not dented production, but has ‘stirred up a hornet’s nest. “Farmers were quick to blame the lab strikes” for the decrease in prices, he said. In reality, there were other factors at work dampening demand and prices, he said, “Continued high levels of production and the devaluation of the [Iranian] tomanis leading to a lot of market uncertainty and a hesitancy amongst cross-border traders.”

The most worrying outcome of this year’s decrease in opium prices for the rest of the world is that it may trigger a decrease in heroin prices on the world’s illegal markets. An abundance of high-quality, low-cost heroin could result in cheap heroin on the streets and, globally, more people using the drug.

 

(1) A province is given a poppy-free status if fewer than 100 hectares of opium are grown there. This year, Nuristan regained its poppy-free status, which it had between 2006 and 2016 and lost in 2017. Takhar lost its previous poppy-free status, which it had held since 2008.

Organising elections in Nuristan, one of the most remote, under-served and unknown provinces, presents a severe challenge. Most villages are far from their nearest district centre and all of the districts are under some degree of Taleban control or influence. In two districts – Mandol and Du-Ab – people were fully deprived of their right to vote. Elections were held in the six others, but even then only in parts of the districts. Contradictions on the number of polling centres reported as having been opened on election day have also raised suspicions that some vote rigging may have taken place. AAN’s Obaid Ali, Jelena Bjelica and Thomas Ruttig scrutinise the context in Nuristan which makes holding free, fair and inclusive elections so very difficult and report on what was a troubling election day where few Nuristanis were able to exercise their franchise.

 Holding elections in Nuristan in 2018 was difficult. Mountainous terrain plus insurgency made logistics, eg getting voting material in and out, tricky. It was then difficult or impossible for many people to get to polling centres, if they had managed to register and if the centres opened. Monitoring the poll was even more difficult. It seems that, in many places, the IEC ‘subcontracted’ security and administration of the elections to local elders. Meanwhile, discrepancies in some of the basic reporting about election day, for example how many polling centres actually opened, flag up concerns about vote-rigging. Before delving into how the 2018 parliamentary elections went in Nuristan, we wanted to give some background and context about a province which is under-reported and seldom visited by outsiders.

The ethno-linguistic and administrative framework

Nuristan is one of the remotest provinces in Afghanistan. Its people, numbering an estimated 158,000 for 2018/19 by the Central Statistics Office (CSO) were, until their forceful conversion to Islam in the mid-1890s, non-Muslim. At that point, the province was renamed from Kafiristan (land of the infidels) to Nuristan (land of light) and the people re-named Nuristanis (read a good overview of this period here). However, locals have preserved elements of their pre-Islamic culture.

Livelihoods are based on subsistence farming, animal husbandryand forestry and people typically live in wooden houses on Nuristan’s mountainous slopes in order not to use up scarce agricultural land. Individual settlements are often isolated both from each other and from those in other valleys, as well as from the often token government presence in the district centres. Mohebullah Hamdard, a local journalist, told AAN it still takes days to travel from one valley to another. Various local sources told AAN that most Nuristanis have no interaction even with their district centres. Most decisions are taken by community elders and police are only present in the district centres. (This pattern was the same during Taleban rule when the ‘Islamic Emirate’ also had only a token presence in the province.)

This mountainous province, which borders Laghman and Kunar to the south and the southeast, Panjshir to the west and Badakhshan to the north, consists of three thinly-populated valleys largely isolated from one another. (See a population distribution map here, p 48).

In western Nuristan, in the upper reaches of the Alingar River valley (a tributary of the Kabul River), there are three districts, Mandol, Du-Ab, and Nurgram (also known as Nangarage).

In Central Nuristan, in the Pech River valley (a tributary of the Kunar River) there are two districts: Parun (also known as Prasun), with the eponymous provincial centre, bordering Badahshan to the north, and Wama, bordering Kunar to the east.

Eastern Nuristan, which lies along the Durand line and has Pakistan’s Chitral district to the east, has the Landay Sin River valley (also known Bashgal River), another tributary of the Kunar River and of the Kunar River itself. There are three districts here: Waigal, Kamdesh, and Barg-e Matal (Bargromatal).

Both eastern and central Nuristan share a border with Badakhshan to the north and Kunar to the south. The province’s eastern and central valleys are accessible through Kunar and the western valley through Laghman. The provincial capital, Parun, is hardly accessible from anywhere in the winter months due to heavy snowfall and poor roads. (1)

Districts of Nuristan, by Rarelibra, MTWT2012, CC BY-SA 3.0, Commons. Wikimedia.

Nuristanis are widely considered to be a single ethnic group and are mentioned as such in the Afghan national anthem. However, they, in fact, are comprised of various ethnic and sub-ethnic groups, many of them speaking distinct, Indo-European languages, sometimes summarily called Dardic (see a detailed description here). Even specialists disagree on how many there are, counting up to fifteen ethnicities and between five to ten languages. The main ethnic groups are the Kata (speaking Kati) in the mountainous north of both eastern and western Nuristan; the Vasi (also known as Paruni) and the Kalasha in central Nuristan; the Ashkun in the southern, lower part of western Nuristan; and the Kom (speaking Kamviri) in the southern, lower part of eastern Nuristan. There are also non-Nuristani minority populations, Pashai (around 15 per cent of the population), Pashtuns of the Safi tribe and Gujar (see here).

Languages of Nuristan, from https://nuristan.info

Salafis and insurgents

The mass, forced conversion of Nuristanis in the nineteenth century went along with an influx of particularly conservative religious groups, with ‘Wahhabi’ groups reported at that time and later, Salafis (Ahl-e Hadith) proselytising in the 1960s. This led to the emergence of indigenous Salafi groups in parts of the province and they participated in the province’s uprising against the pro-Soviet PDPA regime after it tried to assert its authority there in 1978. In 1982, a Salafist statelet, mainly covering Barg-e Matal and parts of Kamdesh in upper eastern Nuristan, emerged, called Daulat-e Inqilabi-ye Islami-ye Nuristan (the Islamic Revolutionary State of Nuristan) and led by a religious scholar, Mawlawi Muhammad Afzal. (2) His state had rudimentary government structures and received money from Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and Pakistan. In the late 1980s, reported Daan Van Der Schriek, “Saudi Arabia recognised [Afzal’s] government, helping it to establish independent consulates in Saudi Arabia and Pakistan.” The statelet,, he said “subsisted by raising revenue from mujahedin supply convoys,” whose entry was regulated through an office in neighbouring Chitral.

According to various sources, Afzal’s group was closely linked to the extremist group Lashkar-e Taiba (LeT). According to one source (see here), LeT might have even been formed as an Afghan anti-government group in neighbouring Kunar in 1990 (another Salafi statelet had emerged there in the late 1980s). Only after the fall of the Afghan communist regime in 1992 did the LeT turn its attention to Kashmir and became known as a Pakistani group. (The Kunar Salafis had a leadership distinct from Afzal’s and there are no reports about any possible collaboration.) (3)

When Afzal supported the expanding Taleban movement in the 1990s, it gave him a free hand to rule the province (see here). This incurred the hostility of Hezb-e Islami and Jamiat-e Islami and Jamiat attacked Afzal’s forces in 1997. He was wounded and fled and the daulat folded (see this AAN analysis and more background here).

Although Nuristan is extremely remote with roads mainly serviceable only by pack animals, it did became a key supply route from Pakistan both for the mujahedin who fought the Soviets in the 1980s, and remains so for the various insurgent groups currently active in the area. Onwards through Laghman and Kapisa, Nuristan also provides access to and from the central region around Kabul and to the Panjshir valley.

Hezb-e Islami had a strong presence in the lower areas of the province during the anti-Soviet war, and its insurgent ‘wing’ after 2001. This year, Zia al-Rahman Kashmir Khan, son of the most influential insurgent Hezb commander in Kunar and Nuristan, the late Kashmir Khan, was running in the election in Kunar province (see here). Hezb concluded a peace deal with the Afghan government in 2016, see AAN’s analysis here.

After 2001, insurgency

Given its strategic position as an infiltration route from Pakistan, Nuristan quickly came into the sights of the United States military in the years after it ousted the Taleban from power. In late 2003, 1,000 US troops were sent there in a limited operation, apparently trying to find Hezb leader Gulbuddin Hekmatyar, who was believed to be shuttling between Chitral and eastern Afghanistan, and Osama bin Laden.

Between 2003 and 2006, coalition forces based at the Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRT) bases in neighbouring Nangrahar, Kunar and Laghman were active in the province. They pushed forward road building and improvements, mainly to create access for a US PRT planned for Nuristan. According to a 2006 provincial survey by the Swedish Committee for Afghanistan (SCA), roads in Nuristan had already been improved by the mujahedin, although they were still not good enough for motorised vehicles. By 2005, the PRTs completed some 40 kilometres of road and some 30 kilometres more were under construction, all financed by USAID. They included those in Parun, Wama, Waigal and Du Ab districts. The construction of these roads remains incomplete.

The next attempt to stem the rising insurgency in the province came in February 2006, when the US’s 10th Mountain Division pushed into Nuristan. Over three months, units spread out through the narrow valleys and high altitudes of Kunar and Nuristan in ‘Operation Mountain Lion’. In August 2006, US forces established the first Forward Operating Base (FOB) in Kamdesh district and several other outposts, although they did not last very long. The New York Times reported that, in 2007 and 2008, two posts and a smaller satellite base were closed in the Waigal Valley and in 2009 two more were closed in Kamdesh (see here and here). American soldiers withdrew from Nuristan after around 300 insurgents overran an isolated combat outpost near Kamdesh village in October 2009, killing eight soldiers and wounding 22.  This military defeat was preceded by another battle in Waigal district in July 2008 in which nine US troops were killed when insurgents breached the security perimeter of a US Combat Outpost in this remote mountainous area.

By 2011, media were reporting that the Taleban again controlled large swathes of Nuristan, with Waigal the first district to fall (temporarily) to the Taleban in the spring of 2011. Pajhwok quoted then-newly appointed governor Tamim Nuristani as saying the Taleban held sway in five districts, Barg-e Matal, Kamdesh, Waigal, Mandol, Du-Ab and some parts of Nurgram. In 2011, US forces tried to recapture Du-Ab district, where, in the words of the US reservists from the Iowa National Guard, the “most significant” firefight their unit had been in since World War II took place.

An AAN dispatch in 2012 described how a Hezb-e Islami commander, Mawlawi Sadeq, himself a former insurgent, exercised control on behalf of the Afghan government in and around Kamdesh’s district centre. AAN also reported that in Mandol district:

On paper everything is correct: 85 teachers work in the district under the vigilant eye of 240 security personnel. But the reality, the delegation describes, is that the district – which has a population of 60,000 (official estimates allow for 20,000) – do not receive the money for a single functioning school. Meanwhile, the security commander, who was appointed three months ago, has been the first to set foot in the district in years, even though he receives salaries for only 70 men.

This neglect of the province by the government and its handover of authority to a local, self-imposed ruler resulted, as the BBC reported in 2013, in the province being “at mercy of the Taliban”. In 2014, The New York Times reported that “the provincial capital, Parun, has a government presence, but is disconnected from six of its seven districts,” while the district of Barg-e Matal “has remained under Taliban siege for years now.” Furthermore, the newspaper reported, Lashkar-e-Taiba’s flag “flew over buildings in districts here and dozens of men from Parun fought on its behalf in Kashmir.”

The Taleban continued to launch frequent attacks and seize district centres, such as Waigal in June 2015 and June 2016 and Du-Ab in March 2016, killing the local police chief. In December 2015, the Taleban claimed that nearly 200 security personnel and 140 government officials – practically the entire government presence there – had defected to their side in Waigal district. In October 2015, they attacked Barg-e Matal.

According to SIGAR’s latest quarterly report, not a single district in Nuristan is fully under the government’s control. Barg-e Matal, Kamdesh, Mandol, Nurgram and Parun are labelled as being ‘under government influence’, while Du-Ab, Wama and Waigal are ‘contested’. This is a surprisingly rosy picture of the situation, however. Mandol’s district authorities, for example, have been working from the administration centre of neighbouring Du-Ab district for at least the last two years.

A new element on Nuristan’s insurgency map is the Islamic State in Khorasan Province (ISKP). In April 2016, after ISKP lost large parts of its territories in the eastern province of Nangrahar, there were reports that many of its fighters fled to Nuristan. In June 2017, provincial governor Hafiz Abdul Qayum and Nuristani MP, Maulawi Ahmadullah Muhid claimed there was an ISKP presence in five out of eight Nuristan districts, namely Mandol, Du-Ab, Nurgram, Waigal and Wama. They also reported fighting in Waigal between the Taleban and one of the movement’s former commanders who had joined the ISKP. On 10 November 2018, Afghan media reported an airstrike against ISKP positions in Kamdesh district.

Socio-economic situation

The population of the province is extremely poor. Apart from subsistence agriculture and forestry it relies on wage labour outside the province, while, according to a 2006 provincial survey by the Swedish Committee for Afghanistan, government figures, local strongmen and insurgents exploit the province’s cedar, oak and pine forests, as well as marble (in Waigal) and precious stone mines (in Kantiwa and Wama districts). Much of the latter is smuggled directly out to Pakistan.

There has also been some opium poppy cultivation. Between 2006 and 2016 Nuristan was considered opium free, but in 2017 UNODC recorded a minor opium cultivation, some 120 hectares in total in Mandol and Nurgram districts (see here).

Services and social infrastructure are patchy and low-level. According to a 2014 government health profile, Nuristan had three district hospitals, which should more properly be called clinics, three ‘comprehensive’ and eight ‘basic’ health stations. Its adult literacy rate then stood at 21.1 per cent. Almost half of Nuristan’s population was categorised as “people in need” in a January 2015 humanitarian profile of the province.  It said 13,700 children required treatment for malnutrition and catogorised 11 per cent of under-fives as having “severe acute malnutrition” and 19 per cent with “global acute malnutrition.”

Any improvement of basic health and education services has mainly been carried out by a few international NGOs and Nuristanis residing outside the country, for example in the US and Sweden. However, as the insurgency picked up again, this province, which had never appeared on any government’s agenda, lost most of the NGOs working there. Already in early 2005, UN news agency IRIN reported:

When you finally reach the tiny provincial capital [then Barg-e Matal], close to the Pakistani frontier, the vista is bleak. Local authority offices are closed and there is no sign of any aid agencies. There are gutted houses and bombed bridges everywhere. An empty health clinic is serving as winter quarters for someone’s private militia. The people look exhausted with thin, colourless faces.

In Barg-e-Matal and Kamdish, the two most troubled eastern districts of Nurestan, there is no sign of any government activity anywhere. In central Barg-e-Matal, Karim, a 40-year-old aid worker, stood behind the closed door of the Afghan Aid NGO’s office that was recently burned down by insurgents.

There is currently some new activity by Afghan and international NGOs, including under the Citizen’s Charter, the government development framework (more info here). The UN has no permanent presence in the province, but several of its agencies carry out ad hoc projects.

Nuristan is mainly covered by media outlets in Nangrahar and Kunar. There is no television station in the province. The state broadcaster Radio & Television Afghanistan (RTA) installed a special transmitter, which is switched on only for two hours every evening and broadcasts only to Parun, the provincial capital. In many districts, where they can afford it, people rely on satellite antennas. There are three radio stations: state-run RTA in Parun and two private radio stations run by local journalists, Radio Kalagush and Radio Alina in Nurgram. There are no local newspapers and one of the province’s two magazines, “The Nur,” has been discontinued due to lack of funding, while “Nuristan Hendara” is irregularly published from Jalalabad.

Election day in Nuristan, past and present

As can be expected from these circumstances, elections in remote and isolated Nuristan is a big challenge. Due to the strained security situation and the lack of infrastructure, the Afghan government faced enormous challenges in even supplying election material to Nuristan. The journalist, Hamdard, said election material was sent either by helicopter or transported via road from neighbouring Nangrahar, Laghman and Kunar provinces.

During previous elections, Nuristan’s remoteness and limited access to the province provided opportunities for electoral fraud. In the first presidential election of October 2004, the Swedish Committee for Afghanistan survey quoted above reported suspicious data. The total population – men, women and children – was estimated then at 125,700. Yet, there were 124,500 registered voters. Almost 40 per cent of the registered voters (46,857), half of them reportedly women, were deemed to have case ‘valid votes’. One year later at the Wolesi Jirga elections, with the same number of registered voters, a female turnout of 52.8 per cent and a male turnout of 47.2 per cent was reported, even though election authorities had “found it troublesome to recruit adequate numbers of female election workers in Nuristan to staff women’s polling sites.”

In the 2010 Wolesi Jirga elections, of 130 polling stations scheduled to open, only 99 did so and, of these, the votes from 44 were later disqualified by the IEC and 17 more by the ECC. This finally left 14,449 votes rendered valid, 63 per cent of the 23,981 votes originally counted in the preliminary result. One polling station in Barg-e Matal had returned a total of 751 votes – a clear sign of ballot stuffing, as only 600 ballot papers had been delivered to each polling station (see this AAN analysis).

In 2018, according to Hamdard, the IEC was unable to hold the election itself in a number of districts but outsourced it to local elders who also took care of election security. The police only secured polling sites in certain district centres. In two districts, Wama and Waigal, Hamdard said local elders provided security for IEC workers against possible Taleban attack and to ensure the delivery of election material. The elders took the materials to their villages, looked after them on election day and facilitated their return back to the district centre.Local journalists told AAN that in Waigal, some ballot boxes were taken away by a parliamentary candidate’s agents. They added it is still unclear where the boxes are, but if true, it must be assumed that there was ballot stuffing.

In three other districts, Nurgram, Barg-e Matal and Kamdesh, IEC workers handed over ballot papers and boxes to elders who held the elections and returned the ballot boxes within 24 hours, according to Hamdard. He said that only in Parun, the provincial capital, where almost all polling centres were located in villages close to the provincial centre, did IEC personnel carry out the election.

Sadullah Payendazai, speaker for the provincial council, told AAN he had not heard of such proceedings. He did though indirectly confirm that turnout had been limited to the district centres.

As for women voters, there was, as in previous elections, according to Muhammad Shah Rahimi, a school teacher in Nurgram district, a shortage of female agents for parliamentary candidates. “There were very limited numbers of female agents in a few polling centres.” Payendazai also said it was difficult for women actually to get to polling stations to cast their votes. “It was almost impossible for families to walk for an hour and half along with their female to get to a poling centre,” he said. “Therefore, most women who live far away from the poling centres remained without casting votes.”

Taleban violence

Like many other parts of the country, the Taleban attempted to disrupt the elections by attacking polling centres. According to local sources, including local journalists and the acting provincial police chief, the Taleban fired mortars at polling centres in order to scare people away from taking part in the elections. Ghulam Rabbani, the acting police chief for Nuristan, confirmed that there had been Taleban mortar attacks against the polling centres in Wama, Barg-e Matal, Kamdesh and Nurgram districts. He said four civilians including two IEC workers were wounded in an attack on a polling centre in Barg-e Matal. According to journalist Hamdard, the head of the IEC for Barg-e Matal district, Elyas Khan, was among those wounded. Payendazai, the speaker for Nuristan’s provincial council, said that, because of the insecurity in these four districts, local observers had not been able to get to polling centres.

Rabbani also said that five Afghan National Army (ANA) soldiers were killed a day after the election. Their convoy, which had been carrying ballot boxes from Nurgram district to the provincial centre, was hit by a roadside mine. The ballot boxes were also reportedly destroyed in this incident. He said air support was called in and 13 Taleban killed.

In Kamdesh, local journalists told AAN that two out of the four planned polling centres remained closed as a result of Taleban attacks against the district centre. They also said that in Parun and Nurgram the polling “largely took place in the district centres only.” Saadullah, the speaker of the provincial council, confirmed that polling centres were only open in the district centres. He said, “Most of the PCs outside of Kamdesh, Barg-e Matal, Waigal, and Nurgram’s district centres either remained close or operated for a couple of hours in the morning of polling day.”

Who voted and where? Contradictory figures

The first unexplained contradictions in election data in Nuristan was between IEC records and Central Statistics Organisation’s (CSO) figures. In some districts, the number of registered voters was close to or even higher than that of the total population estimated by the CSO. Wama district, for example has an estimated total population of 12,061, while the IEC data showed that 12,578 people had registered to vote. Similarly, Parun and Du-Ab registered voters in numbers close to the total population figures: 10,838 voters among a population of 14,755 and 6,612 voters among 8,598 people, respectively. No voter registration took place in Mandol district. All the other seven saw some registration.

As to polling centres, during the voter registration period, the IEC had foreseen 73 polling centres opening on election day. (See IEC details on voter registration in Nuristan here). 32 centres (44 per cent) had already been dropped from the list before 20 October for security reasons (see AAN reporting here). That left a potential 41 to open.

However, the exact number of polling centres that did open on 20 October remains unclear due to contradictory information from various sources. That voting only happened in six districts is agreed upon. Along with the potential, but unregistered voters in Mandol, those living in the other district almost entirely controlled by the Taleban, Du-Ab, were also unable to vote (although 6,612 people had registered) because no polling centre opened there on election day.

In the remaining six districts, some form of election did happen. According to IEC figures published on its website, 41 polling centres opened: nine in Nurgram; seven in Parun, the provincial centre; four in each Barg-e Matal and Wama; four each in Kamdesh and Du-Ab and; three in Waigal (see IEC details here). (That of course only adds up to 35 and also includes the four in Du-Ab which definitely did not open.)

According to Bashir Omar, the provincial head of the IEC for Nuristan, 37 centres opened.

However, journalist Hamdard told AAN that on the morning of election day, the local IEC had said that 20 polling centres were open and 21 closed. Later that day, he said, the commission claimed 26 centres were open, while 15 remained close due to high security threats. This proportion corresponds roughly with information from the spring 2018 voter registration campaign when 20 voter registration centres in Nuristan were reported as facing “high security threats” (see AAN reporting here).

Provincial IEC director Omar also said that in total, around 22,000 people voted in Nuristan. This would still be much lower than the IEC’s number of registered voters of 67,068 people (see here). It would show that only 32.8 per cent of all registered voters had taken part in the election.

However, the discrepancy between the number of polling centres open according to the IEC leadership and that provided by local IEC officials raises suspicions, that votes may have been ‘counted’ in centres that never actually opened. This will be something to watch as more information comes in.

There were other problems with the ballot aside from the contradictory election data. Local journalists, observers and voters told AAN that IEC staff lacked training. Muhammad Shah Rahimi, a school teacher from Nurgram, for example, told AAN that in most of the centres in his district the IEC workers had not been familiar with the biometric voter verification system. The local sources also said that some polling centres in Kamdesh, Wama and Parun districts did not get voter lists at all and others appeared to have received incomplete lists, further reducing the number of people who could vote. Saadullah, the provincial council speaker, told AAN that people were searching at different centres but could not find their names on the voter registration list. “Therefore, many people returned home without casting their votes.”

Provincial council speaker Payendazai told AAN that female participation in the provincial capital Parun had been “good.” He said he had seen queues of female voters at some local polling centres. However, he added that a lack of voter lists in some polling centres in Parun made many female voters leave without being able to cast their vote.

Hamdard and Rahimi said that in Nurgram, female participation had been good at the start of the day. Hamdard told AAN that there were queues of 20 to 30 women at three centres he visited. Later in the morning, he said, after reports emerged about Taleban shelling, only a few more women turned out to vote. He also reported that people in Barg-e Matal district stopped voting after the Taleban began shelling.

Rahimi confirmed Payendazai’s report, that female participation was limited to those living near polling centres. The other issue of concern for women, he said, was the use of biometric devices and the need to have photos taken for voter verification. This further dampened female participation, he thought.

Conclusion: how much of an election was there in Nuristan?

It is hard to judge the credibility of the parliamentary election in Nuristan. However, what can be said is that, because of widespread insecurity and Taleban territorial control, elections outside the immediate district centres were difficult, if not impossible to hold. Electoral observers also found access difficult because of the Taleban presence in most of the districts. It is clear that, in some areas, the election in Nuristan was out of the IEC’s control and it is likely that even the modest IEC figures on open polling centres and turnout have been exaggerated and possibly mask an unknown degree of ballot stuffing outside the district centres. In at least some of the district centres, local sources concur that there was a fair voter turnout, including some female voters. However, it remains unclear how many of the total 22,000 votes supposedly cast were real. That number is already far lower than ballots cast, even before disqualifications, in previous elections. Whatever else can be said, whoever is sent to Kabul to represent Nuristan will not have been sent there by the bulk of the population; most people were simple unable to get out to vote, even if they had wished to do so.

Edited by Kate Clark

 

(1) Nuristan province was created in 1986/7 and then consisted only what is now its northwestern part, ie Mandol and possibly Du-Ab district. The provincial centre was the village of Gadmuk, the birthplace of Muhammad Sarwar, an army officer before the 1978 coup d’étatwho was defence minister of the Salafist daulatbut changed sides and reconciled with the government of President Babrak Karmal. In 1993, when the mujahedin were in power, Sarwar had joined them, and a larger Nuristan province was created. A new capital was gradually built in Pashki (Parun valley), but the Taleban’s arrival in 1996 stopped this work. The province has continued to exist in this form, first under the Taleban and then in the post-2001 order.

(2) According to Daan Van Der Schriek writing for the Jamestown Foundation in 2006:

Afzal was an accomplished Islamic guerrilla as early as the 1970s, fighting the regimes of King Zahir Shah (1933-1973) and President Daoud Khan (1973-78). Afzal’s grandfather was a key figure in the Islamization of Nuristan following the Afghan conquest of the area at the end of the 19th century (for which he was killed by anti-Afghan Nuristanis). (…)

During the regime of President Burhanuddin Rabbani [1992-96] Maulvi Afzal went to Kabul as assistant to the minister for Haj and charity. With the advent of the Taliban he returned to Nuristan (…). A civil war erupted between Maulvi Afzal’s men on one side and (…) supporters of Gulbuddin Hekmatyar on the other. Initially the odds were against Afzal, leading him to enlist the support of the Taliban who sent him soldiers. Taliban assistance proved crucial in Afzal’s victory over (…) Hekmatyar loyalists. However the introduction of Taliban influence in the area inadvertently curtailed Afzal’s influence (…). In fact a combination of Taliban pressure and the worsening of the national civil war forced Afzal to abandon Nuristan and settle in Pakistan where he lived under the protection of the Lashkar-e-Toiba organization.

The 2006 SCA provincial survey mentioned in the text reported Afzal living in Nuristan again, under house arrest in his home village of Nekmok (AAN holds a digitalised version of the survey in its archives).

(3) This group was distinct, including in its leadership, from the Nuristani Salafis, and reportedly joined the Taleban in 2010 (AAN reporting here).

 

Where Paktika has been famous for ballot stuffing and mass proxy voting in previous elections, locals claim that this election was very different. A softer Taleban stance and a new slate of candidates, they say, allowed for more extensive campaigning. And the new electoral measures prevented rigging which, as a result, the electorate – including women – came out to vote. Reports of irregularities were indeed limited, with the exception of a large pre-election scam that involved thousands of duplicated tazkeras and led to several arrests. Turnout, as in most provinces, was varied and, in total, was given as around 20 per cent of registered voters. AAN’s Fazal Muzhary observed the election in this southeastern province and explains how it went before, during and after election day.

Interesting and new candidates

Paktika, with a population of close to 1.5 million people, has four seats in the Afghan parliament: three for men and one for women representatives. (1) A total of 30 candidates ran for these seats, eight women and 22 men (see the candidate list here). Three were incumbent candidates, Mahmud Khan Sulaimankhel, Nader Khan Katawazai and Najia Babakarkhel Urgunwal; the rest were new contenders, although a few had also run in the 2010 election. The new candidates included Muhammad Mirza Katawazai, a rich businessman living in Kabul who is originally from one of Paktika’s more peaceful districts, Yahyakhel. He claims to be the fifth-richest man in the country. According to his campaigners, Mirza registered 500 million US dollars as his net assets at the Independent Election Commission (IEC). Though his claim of being the fifth-richest man in the country can be questioned, he may well be the richest in his province.

The population mainly consists of Pashtuns whose tribal structures are largely still functional. Apart from this, there are Tajik enclaves in the provincial capital Sharana and the second-largest town, Urgun, in the southeast of the province. Paktika came into being as a separate province relatively late, under President Daud (1973–78). Therefore, the sense of belonging in the three sub-regions is still relatively strong: (a) the northern-central zone with the districts of Matakhan, Sarhauza, Sharana, and Yusofkhel, which are mainly dominated by the Andar, Kharoti, Alikhel and Sulaimankhel tribes; (b) the southeast along the border with Pakistan with the districts of Urgun, Gomal, Barmal, Gian, Zeruk and Sarobi, dominated by Dzadran and Wazir – both had belonged to the old ‘Greater Paktia’ – and (c) the southwest which had formerly belonged to Ghazni province, known as Katawaz and mainly inhabited by the large Sulaimankhel tribe (districts: Zarghunshahr/Khairkot, Khushamand, Tarwa, Wazakhwa, Wormamey, Omna). The government has a strong presence around the provincial capital, Sharana, and in Matakhan, Yusofkhel, Khairkot, Yahyakhel and Urgun districts. Apart from those five districts, the Taleban fully control Nika and Omna and have varying degrees of control and presence in the rest of the districts, particularly in southern Katawaz.

The thirty candidates in Paktika were mainly from six tribes. Sulaimankhel was the leading tribe, with seven candidates; Kharoti was second, with five candidates. The Pashtun tribes of Alikhel and Dzadran as well as the Tajiks had three candidates each and the Andar tribe had two candidates. The other ten candidates included the eight female candidates who were mostly not originally from Paktika. They were either married to husbands from Paktika, or for some reason had tazkeras from the province (only one female candidate is originally from Paktika: Suraya Akbari, who is Andar by tribe and from Matakhan district). The other women candidates included Maryam Zurmati, who according to local people is originally from Zurmat district in Paktia, and a female candidate who claims in her biography, (see the biography here) to be Alikhel. Local people say she is not from Paktika and can hardly speak Pashto; some claim she is Tajik from one of the northern provinces.

The Taleban’s softer policy gave space for campaigning

Local people, including civil society activists, journalists, and businessmen, told AAN that this year’s parliamentary election was interesting and different from the previous ones. In previous elections, residents of the central zone did not see much campaigning by candidates. One of the major reasons was insecurity, based on a widespread Taleban presence and the fear of attacks. A local journalist, Abdul Bari, told AAN that in previous elections, candidates had difficulty finding campaign offices: “If a person would rent his house to a candidate, the next day he would receive a call from the Taleban who would threaten to kill the house owner.” Therefore, no one wanted to rent out their houses as candidate campaign offices.

Previously, Taleban fighters not only warned ordinary voters in the rural areas against casting their votes, they also prevented local radios from publishing advertisements of candidates. One local journalist, who has worked at Pashtun Ghazh (Pashtun Voice) Radio for more than ten years, told AAN, “In the past we could not broadcast a single candidate advertisement. If we did, the next day Taleban fighters would inquire why we did that.” In this year’s election, he said, local radio stations broadcasted campaign adverts and conducted several roundtables without much of a reaction. Once local people and candidates grew confident that there seemed to be no serious threats, they tried to benefit from the opportunity.

Candidates visited many of the district centres and large villages in all three zones of Paktika, sometimes even in large convoys (see for example this video). Local people told AAN that the candidates paid visits to 11 out of the 19 districts during their campaigns and sent their representatives to remote districts where the candidates could not go. The candidates even gathered people in remote desert areas and paid visits to different districts in the evenings – a riskier time to travel, but better for campaigning as people can gather in village mosques and local bazaars. For many of Paktika’s residents it was their first experience of an actual electoral campaign in their own area.

The richest candidates organised cricket tournaments and educational competitions between schools with big prizes. For example, Muhammad Mirza, the richest candidate from Yahyakhel district, sponsored a cricket tournament in Sharana city before the election where the winning team received a car. Muhammad Daud Katawazai gave a motorbike to the winning team of another cricket tournament. In the educational competitions, participants who wrote good poems or correctly answered questions about the books they had read received money as a gift. Both candidates invited musicians from Kabul and held music nights, which according to local journalists were popular, particularly with the youth. Muhammad Daud Katawazai even paid a musician from Jalalabad to compose a campaign song for him, which plays in the background here. This kind of campaign, people said, had not be seen in Paktika in any of the previous elections.

Before the election, residents of all three zones – central, eastern and western – recounted how the Taleban had left prospective voters largely alone, whereas in previous elections Taleban fighters would tell people not to cast their votes. One resident who lives about six kilometres to the north of Sharana city told AAN, “In our mosque the Taleban told people that if anyone would cast his or her vote, they would cut their fingers.” This year, he said, no such threats had been reported prior to the election.

After the election, a journalist who did not want to be named said: “If the Taleban had wanted to disrupt the election, they could have easily done it. If they had made a single call to any of these voters, I am sure we would not have seen such long lines of voters in Sharana.” In the end the Taleban did try to disrupt the election in certain areas, mainly through shelling (see below); the impact was limited.

Reactions to the Taleban’s softer policy

Local journalists and civil society activists said they did not know the exact motives behind the softer policy of the Taleban or whether some of the candidates or local officials had made deals with the Taleban. Some thought the general talk about a possible peace might have prompted them not to want to disturb the vote. Walid Alikhel, an observer of one candidate, thought the Afghan security forces had become stronger. He said security forces had been deployed to all places where the election was planned and had pushed the Taleban to areas from where they could not easily reach the cities or attack the polling centres. A civil society activist said he thought the Taleban had simply not seriously wanted to disrupt the election. His argument was that if Taleban fighters had wanted to target polling centres, they could have fired rockets in almost all districts of the province, or sent suicide attackers, and the Afghan government would not have been able to prevent it.

He thought they had two possible reasons for not wanting to attack. First, since the media did a lot of campaigning in favour of the election process, saying it was a civilian process, the Taleban fighters might have realised that their attacks would mostly harm civilians and may have decided to refrain. The second reason, he said, could have been a more general policy of the Taleban to not seriously target the elections (although looking at some other provinces that does not seem to have been the case; see for instance this AAN report about Kunduz and this report about Zurmat district in neighbouring Paktika).

According to local journalist Dad Muhammad, the Taleban fighters in Paktika have simply not been very active recently and have rarely been conducting attacks against government forces. He said the most recent attack had been on Khushamand (also known as Dela) district, a week before the election. Beside that, there had not been any major attack by Taleban fighters in the province since August 2017, when they carried one out on Gomal district. The major reason, he said, was that Taleban fighters had been busy in neighbouring Ghazni province.

Election day in Paktika

Election day in Paktika appeared to go relatively smoothly. Although some polling centres opened late or suffered technical or logistical problems, this seemed to have been less prevalent than in other provinces. Paktika was one of the few provinces where the IEC did not call for a second day of voting. Harun Bawar, the provincial director of the IEC, said that most centres in the province had started operating on time, at 7:00 am. Some centres, he said, opened one or two hours late and only one polling centre, in Ali Baz in Urgun district, had started operating after 12:00 pm (because, he said, the voter list did not arrive on time).

Local reporter Rahim Khushhal, however, told AAN that additional centres had started operating late. He gave the example of Al Jehad High School, in Sharana, where voting started around 11:00 am. AAN also learned that some polling centres opened late in Yusofkhel, Yahyakhel and Khairkot districts. Other journalists spoke about centres that had not opened at all, but could not give exact names. After election day, the IEC official said that all 166 centres across the province had been open, but local journalists found that difficult to believe.

Later, it turned out that, according to voters and observers, local IEC officials had given false reports to the IEC officials in Sharana, telling them that the centres had started working on time when this had not been the case. For this reason, their seniors hadn’t seen a need to either extend the time of voting or allow certain centres to be open for voters on the second day. “We were either intentionally ignored or local IEC workers were negligent,” one voter, Zamir Khan in Yahyakhel told AAN over the telephone.

Observing the vote in Sharana, the provincial capital

AAN observed the opening of the election process at the Ali Baba High School, one of the 16 polling centres in Sharana. Voting started on time at 7:00 am. Voters’ turnout was low in the beginning, but later increased as people started casting their votes at nine stations (seven for men, one for women and one for Kuchi voters). Based on the voter lists AAN has seen, 3,800 voters (of whom 226 were Kuchi and 25 women) had registered at this centre. The long line of menwaiting to cast their votes, numbering in the hundreds, continued until midday. After that, the lines became smaller. In two stations in this polling centre, the process started with a small technical problem when the biometric machine did not start properly, but this was resolved in about 30 minutes. At this centre people could cast their votes in three to five minutes; only rarely did voters spend ten minutes or more. But because so many voters turned up, some had to wait for more than two hours. Based on AAN’s observation of the logbook at the end of the day, roughly 1,800 voters – including 16 Kuchis and 12 women – had cast their votes at this centre (a little less than half of the voters who had registered here). The main problem observed was that some voters could not find their names on the voter list.

At a second polling centre, in the provincial hospital in Sharana, AAN also observed a considerable turnout. Here, 2,247 voters had been registered, among them 534 women and 75 Kuchis. They could cast their votes at five stations. Voting started without problem and AAN did not see any irregularities, except again of people not finding their names on the list. At the end of the day, 887 voters (654 men, 230 women and three Kuchis) had cast their votes – around 40 per cent of those registered.

At Yusofkhel High School (where 1,900 voters were registered, among them 150 women), around 820 voters, including 30 women, had already cast their votes by the time AAN visited in the early afternoon. Similarly, at Khushhal Baba High School in Mushkhel district, AAN observed a polling centre where 830 out of the 1,900 registered voters had cast their votes by the afternoon. Local observers at both centres said they did not see any problems on election day.

At one of the polling centres in Sharana city, AAN saw a large number of women waiting in front of a tent for their turn. Once inside, the women generally spent two to five minutes casting their votes. The female candidate observers said they did not see any problems at this station. A female IEC worker who had also worked in previous elections told AAN that women’s participation was much higher than in the past. In previous elections, very few women showed up, but in this year’s polling, she said that, as soon as the voting started at her centre, within an hour, dozens of women had shown up. At this female station, AAN observed that, by the afternoon, 230 out of 534 registered female voters had cast their votes.

At all four centres visited by the AAN observer, voters said they were happy to take part in the election and to vote for their representatives. The voters included men and women, youth, elders, teachers, students, journalists, members of the security forces and Kuchis. One voter who did not want to be named said that in the past there had been many security problems, but this year, security was good and that allowed people to take part in the election. As many women had difficulty coming to vote from areas far from the polling centres, some villagers voluntarily used their cars to drive women to the city so they could cast their votes. Walid Ahmad, one of the volunteers, who drove several voters to the provincial hospital, told AAN: “We drove these women here only to help them cast their votes for their favourite candidate. No one has paid us to do this.”

A high level of participation in and around the capital and in the central zone

Talking to AAN during the election as well as on the day after the election, local journalist Yasin said he thought the introduction of the biometric system had been an important factor in increasing voter participation, as it had built people’s confidence that there would be less rigging. Because most candidates realised there would be no (or less) chance for fraud, they tried harder to campaign. As a result, ordinary people understood the significance of the election. This, he said, in particular affected women’s participation, because candidates had encouraged their tribes to let the women vote too. Where previously men would often cast votes on behalf of their female family members and relatives, this year women came out and cast their own votes.

People told AAN that the number of women who voted at many centres in Sharana, Yusofkhel, Urgun and some other districts could not be compared to previous elections. Local journalist Obaid told AAN that in Mest area of Yusofkhel district, women were casting their votes until late evening. According to a member of civil society who visited polling centres in five different districts, many men had voted in the morning, but the number of women was less. But in the afternoon, he said, the number of women increased and they came to cast their votes until late in the evening. Talking to AAN, he said that he had also witnessed considerable numbers of women voters in Khairkot and Yahyakhel districts. He said that because security was good, most candidates had observers in most of the polling centres. Therefore, he thought, most districts saw no ballot stuffing, even though many  had been previously known for it. For example, he said, in the previous election, ballot stuffing had been reported in Yahyakhel, Khairkot and Janikhel districts. “This year, we did not have a single report of ballot stuffing,” he said.

He also believed that changing the system from voting cards to stickers on people’s tazkeras – the new registration system that linked voters to polling centres (see previous AAN reporting here for details) – played a key role in people’s increased participation in the election. After this decision, the office for population registration started distributing new tazkeras in local villages. In several places in the central zone, as well as in districts close to the provincial capital, their workers went from house to house. Whereas in the past many families did not allow their women to go to the city to get a tazkera, this time they did not mind because it was distributed in front of their own houses. As a result, many women who had never had an identity document now got a tazkera and were able to vote.

Obaid also thought that the level of participation had been particularly high in the central zone – Sharana, Matakhan, Sarhauza and Yusofkhel – because people from this area had had no representative in the past two parliaments and had felt side-lined by the MPs from Katawaz and Urgun zones. According to civil society activist Elham, when people from the central zone needed help, they were mostly ignored, as the MPs from other zones did not care about the problems of people from the central zone. This, he said, was the main reason that ignored residents of the central zone decided to not only have candidates but also to actively participate in the election.

The election in the Katawaz (southwest) zone

The election in the southwest and southeast zones of Paktika generally went smoothly, although in several districts no or very little polling took place. In the Katawaz zone, elections took place in Khairkot, Yahyakhel, Janikhel, Tarwa, Wormamey and Wazakhwa districts, although in the Tarwa, Wormamey and Wazakhwa this was largely limited to the district centre due to limited government presence. In these districts, around five to 20 per cent of registered voters appeared to have cast their votes. Independent observers from civil society – who did not want to be named because they said attributing the figures to them could cause problems – said that in Khairkot, 3,125 out of 30,000 voters cast their votes (10 per cent); in Yahyakhel, 3,500 out of 20,000 (17.5 per cent); and in Janikhel, about 1,500 out of 30,000 (five per cent). In Janikhel, most of the votes were cast in Jalalzi village, where observers counted 900 votes. In Wazakhwa, around 750 votes were cast; in Tarwa, about 800 and in Wormamey, about 3,000. (Most of these figures are based on observers’ record of the tallies in the ballot books at the end of the day.) AAN was told that in all these districts, the presence of candidates’ observers was thought to have reduced the possibility of rigging, whereas in the past, they said, ballot stuffing had been widespread.

In Omna district, very few votes were cast. Polling took place at only one centre, where observers told AAN that only 60 votes were cast. This polling centre was in Ginawa area; the district compound was moved here in June 2016, after the district fell to the Taleban. In Khushamand district, there was no election at all. Around 800 voters had registered near the district compound, and local observers told AAN that the IEC had sent materials and staff, but the voters simply did not show up. The IEC head, Harun Bawar told AAN on the day after the election that in this district one vote only was cast (possibly one of the staff). Local observers told AAN that the lack of turnout was mostly because of a Taleban attack in Khushamand a week before the election. As many as 21 Taleban fighters and 14 security forces were killed in the attack.

Problems were reported in a polling centre Khairkot district, where observers had initially counted 3,125 votes but claimed that after IEC workers had interfered, the count went up to 4,600. In Janikhel, AAN was told that one candidate, Mahmud Khan Sulaimankhel, had taken people’s tazkeras in the nomination process and had not returned them after his nomination, which meant that these eligible voters could not cast their votes. In Yahyakhel, voters told AAN that the election started around 10:00 am due to problems with the biometric systems. One observer told AAN: “The IEC workers could not turn on the biometric machines. By the time the machine started, there were already hundreds of voters waiting in the queues, which resulted in many voters’ frustration.” Voters were unhappy that the IEC officials did not listen to their demand to extend the time for voting. Security officials apparently told IEC workers to stop working exactly at 4:00 pm, as they said they could not protect the centres beyond that time. Observers said this deprived a number of people from voting.

In Khairkot district, three polling stations allocated for Kuchi voters were closed on election day. Two of these stations were in Segana area and a third was at the district hospital. According to observers, Kuchi voters had registered at these centres but could not vote here. One observer told AAN, “The IEC workers told the Kuchi voters, that since so few Kuchis had registered, they could not open a separate polling stations for Kuchis.” Voters were told that wherever fewer than 100 voters were registered, no separate polling station would be open for Kuchis.

The election in the Urgun (southeast) zone

In the eastern zone of Urgun, local observers said there had been no election in Neka district. IEC officials told AAN that they sent all required materials to the district without any problem and that the polling centres had been open, while local observers said that no polling centres were open. In Gomal district there was only one polling centre, in the Shkin area, which borders the South Waziristan Agency of Pakistan. The main populated area, Chahrbaran, had no polling centre as it is currently under Taleban control. In Sarobi district, the election was disrupted by Taleban rocket shelling, but local observers said that 1,200 votes were cast in this district, despite the shelling. No problem was reported in Barmal district. Local observers thought that the fact that two candidates, Taj Ali Wazir and Admir Entezar, were active in the district was why no rigging had been reported.

In Gomal district, ballot stuffing was reported. Civil society activists told AAN that the ballots had already been stuffed before election day. When National Directorate of Security (NDS) operatives found out what had happened, they confiscated the stuffed boxes and arrested the IEC staff. In Zerok district, ballot stuffing was reported at the end of the election day. Observers found that the stuffing was in favour of Daulat Khan Dzadran. In Sarobi, observers told AAN that according to their observations 1,200 votes were cast during the day, but later the results showed more than 3,000 votes.

Security problems

The election took place in a relatively peaceful atmosphere. Four areas in the entire province had security-related incidents; there were casualties, but relatively few. These incidents included shelling by Taleban fighters in southeastern Sarobi, eastern Sarhauza, and northern Matakhan districts, and rockets fired at Omarkhel area in the southern part of Sharana. The rocket, fired in the afternoon of 20 October, killed one child and wounded a man. Two persons were wounded in the shelling in Sarobi district; one was an observer and the second a policeman. In Sarhauza, one policeman and a civilian were wounded. There were no casualties reported in the shelling that targeted some northern villages of Matakhan district. According to a local source who works with an NGO, people continued to go to the polling centres to cast their votes despite the shelling. There were no reports of Taleban fighters preventing voters from casting their votes, even in the remote districts where they could easily have done so.

The IEC figures and pre-election fraud

Based on IEC’s database, 186,611 eligible voters had registered during the voter registration process (see here). Out of those possible voters, IEC officials told AAN on 28 October 2018 that an estimated 38,000 people had cast their votes on election day. This represents around 20 per cent of the registered voters. The officials, however, stressed that these were rough estimations and could not be considered final, as they were based on reports from IEC workers from the sites. Some ballot boxes had yet to arrive at the provincial capital and the official count was still underway.

An IEC official said he thought it was possible that “a lot of ghost voters registered in the registration process and that only actual voters had shown up on election day.” ‘Ghost voters’, here, refers to registrations made that were not linked to actual people. Journalist Yasin had a different explanation, saying, “In the beginning, when several names were mismatching [people could not find their names on the voter list], this frustrated the people and affected voters’ participation.”

Another important explanation may be found in pre-election fraud that took place and that has remained largely unreported in the media (except some social media posts by local Facebook users). The fraud, which took place in May 2018, centred on the use of duplicate tazkeras, initially to bolster candidate registration, but later to try to increase the size of the vote banks.

When the Population Registration Department issues a tazkera, there are two original copies: one is given to the holder and the second is kept at the department. Local journalist Obaid and civil society activists told AAN that several candidates were able to buy large numbers of the originals kept at the registration department. Initially the tazkeras were used to meet the requirement for candidate application (1,000 tazkeras from supporters). Later, larger numbers were bought to ‘register’ additional voters. Initially, very few people knew about the ‘scheme’ and it was not considered a large problem, so no steps were taken to prevent it happening. When the numbers rose, NDS officials learned about it and arrested the Population Registration Department general director, Anwar Khan Katawazai, three PRD officials from the districts and three local IEC workers. They also confiscated an unknown number of tazkeras and an unknown amount of money. AAN was told that the candidates had paid several thousands of dollars, but the exact amount was not identified. (Some of the Facebook posts can be found here, here and here)

The candidates who bought original copies of the tazkeras from the PRD officials bribed local IEC officers in their districts to include the tazkeras in the voter lists and to provide them with the necessary registration stickers. In many cases, this resulted in a problem of duplication. The real holders of the tazkeras were registered in their own districts at their own polling centres, while the candidates often re-registered the same tazkeras in other districts. Most of these duplicates were taken from voters who registered in the central zone, possibly because candidates thought it would be easier to do the rigging in the absence of strong incumbent candidates. The duplicates were also most easily available here from the main PRD office in Sharana. According to local journalists, several of the candidates bought tazkeras in the process of candidate registration; but, in the process of voter registration only some influential and rich candidates were able to buy them.

After the PRD officials and IEC workers were arrested and sent to prison, the IEC officials decided to clear out the duplicated tazkeras. They removed 30,000 tazkeras from the voter database after filtering several thousand of them. This  resulted in the removal of large numbers of actual voters. As the IEC officials cancelled duplicated tazkeras, they were unable to decide which belonged to an actual voter and which was the ‘ghost’. As a result, many voters could not find their names on the voter list on election day, despite having actually registered, and were not able to vote.

Post-election problems

Some reports of problems came out after the election was completed in Paktika. On the day after the elections, Taleban fighters confronted voters in some districts and asked them why they had voted on election day. A local journalist told AAN he received a call from a local Taleban fighter in Kharbin area. “The Taleban fighter told me he would kill me if he found me outside Sharana city,” he said. When asked why the Taleban would threaten him after the election was over, he said, “They might have just intended to frighten people; otherwise, these threats after the election are meaningless.” In Matakhan district, Taleban fighters threatened teachers who had worked for the IEC on election day and told them they would beat them if they collected the money the IEC was supposed to pay.

IEC head Harun Bawar, confirming the Taleban threats, told AAN that teachers from Khairkot had indeed called him and told him they did not want to receive their pay, for fear of being beaten. In other places, sources told AAN, local Taleban told IEC workers to share the money they would receive from the IEC. There were also rumours that the Taleban wanted to punish IEC workers for their work. Some of the staff who went to Kharbin area to meet the Taleban, had reportedly been beaten.

Another problem was that one female candidate, Hila Mujtaba, accused the Paktika governor, Elyas Wahdat, of mistreating one of her observers at the governor’s house. Her observer, Zahir Khan, in a video report told Ariana News that the “governor personally beat me and put me in his private custody for five hours” (see the video here). In the same report, the governor’s spokesman, Muhammad Ayaz, rejected the accusations as baseless. He told an Ariana TV reporter: “There has been nothing done like this. We have rules and everything should go according to the rules.”

The third problem was that on 30 October 2018, the prosecutor’s office in Sharana detained five local reporters for publishing Mujtaba’s allegations. These journalists were detained for five hours at the prosecutor’s office. One local reporter, who did not want to be named, told AAN, “The prosecutor’s office people asked the journalists why they published the reports and said that they had crossed the privacy limits, but they did not explain whose privacy.” The reporters’ response was that they had published both the allegations and the reaction of the governor’s house and that this should have not been problematic. One of the detained journalists, elaborating on the threats they received at the prosecutor’s office, said: “They told us they would put their feet in our mouths and silence us forever.” Paktika’s governor, in a separate meeting with a group of journalists, told them he would ask the prosecutor’s office why the journalists had been detained for five hours.

Conclusion

The IEC’s move to address pre-election fraud resulted in the disenfranchisement of an unknown number of voters whose takers had been misused. It may also have scared away other voters. Similarly, the claims that all polling centres were open and opened on time meant that polling was not extended – into the evening or to a second day – as happened in most of the country. This may also have deprived voters of the opportunity to vote. Otherwise, the election, from local reports, appears to have gone relatively smoothly. There were some reports of ballot stuffing, rigging and interference, particularly in the remote areas. There were a few security incidents. Overall, however, the election appeared to have presented new opportunities: a new slate of candidates, campaigning where this had not happened before, tazkeras for people who had never had one before, and some actual turnout. Many voters and observers expressed cautious optimism over the quality of the election in their province. The preliminary results, once released and to the extent that they match what was observed on election day, will bring more clarity.

Edited by Martine van Bijlert and Thomas Ruttig

(1) Paktika’s provincial centre, Sharana (which is the north of the province), is located about 160 kilometres southeast of Afghanistan’s capital Kabul. It borders Zabul to the southwest, Ghazni to the west, Paktia to the north, Khost to the east and the Federally Administrated Tribal Areas (FATA) of Pakistan to the south and southeast. The population figure of almost 1.5 million is based on the 2018 statistics of the Central Statistics Office (CSO).

Kunduz province faced serious security issues during and after Election Day. The turnout was far lower than expected. This was mainly due to an almost unprecedented level of Taleban violence compared to most other provinces on that day. Three districts were deprived of their rights to vote in their entirety, while six others had a patchy election as, due to the insecurity, some polling centres (PC) frequently kept opening and closing. AAN’s Obaid Ali, who observed the election in neighbouring Takhar, looks at the electoral challenges in this key province of Afghanistan’s northeast (with input from Thomas Ruttig).

Threats and Election Day violence

The parliamentary election on 20 October 2018 in Kunduz province suffered from serious security threats and acute violence. In the last two weeks prior to the elections, the Taleban leadership issued a series of four statements warning people not to take part in the election. In the first, issued on 8 October, they reiterated their April call for an election boycott. The next statement targeted specific groups of people warning them to avoid being involved in the election. On 17 October, they called on university professors, schoolteachers and others in the education sector not to support the elections process. The two following statements were even tougher; one by the preaching, guidance and recruitment commission, and one by the military commission. The first of these, issued on 18 October, called on tribal elders, religious scholars and mosque preachers to stand against the election and to prevent people from taking part. Ten, on 19 October on the eve of the elections, the military commission warned people to “do not allow your homes, guest rooms, schools, religious seminaries, clinics and workers be utilized by the organizers of this vile process.” It said the “intelligence teams of the Islamic Emirate” would be “closely monitoring all development” as a “participation in this process” would amount to “aiding the invaders.”

In Kunduz province itself, people have limited access to the internet and little awareness of the Taleban’s official statements. So, local Taleban officials delivered these statements and warnings directly to the people. In Dasht-e Archi and Qala-ye Zal districts, for example, which are areas under their control, the Taleban’s shadow district governors appeared in mosques during Friday prayers and announced the Taleban leadership’s position on the elections. In other Taleban controlled areas in Kunduz, their fighters individually talked with local elders and mosque preachers, asking them to prevent people from taking part in the elections.

During Election Day and the day after, the Taleban invested much energy in order to disrupt the polls. According to Rasul Omar, head of the Independent Election Commission (IEC) for Kunduz, the Taleban fired mortars at polling centres (PC) in most parts of the province. In several PCs, he said, IEC workers fled to safe places because of the shelling. He told AAN “70 per cent of the total of [89] polling centres were under serious attacks by the Taleban.” He added, “Even inside the city we had serious security issues.” He said Taleban fired mortars against 20 of the 35 PCs that operated inside the city. Abdulbaqi Nuristani, the police chief for Kunduz province, told AAN that frequent mortar fire lasted from the early morning of the Election Day until late into the night.

Zabihullah Majedi, a parliamentary candidate in the province, is also the head of the Journalists Association there. He said more than 100 mortar rounds hit PCs in Kunduz city alone. He said the Taleban inflicted serious casualties on IEC workers and voters. According to him, 15 people were killed and 110 others were wounded in the city because of the shelling. Local journalists in Kunduz confirmed this range of election-related casualties. Rahmatullah Hamnawa, a journalist in Kunduz, told AAN he had recorded more than 120 casualties in Kunduz city. He added that this included police, IEC workers and civilians.

Kunduz was possibly the province most affected by Election Day violence issued by the Taleban. (1) In neighbouring Baghlan, 62 casualties were reported by local government officials, while in Kabul there were 79 election-related casualties reported.

Mursal Setayesh, a civil society activist in Kunduz, told AAN that, due to the Taleban’s mortar shelling, most women feared going out to cast their votes. She said that, apart from the insecurity, the IEC works also had technical difficulties that reduced the number of people who could vote and added “In many PCs voter registration lists were missing and people had to search different PCs to find their names in order to cast votes.” Therefore, she said many female voters left the PCs without casting votes. Speaking to AAN, Karima Sediqi, a female member of the provincial council in Kunduz, said female voters’ participation in this parliamentary election in Kunduz was lower than that in 2010. She added that insecurity was the major factor that reduced the female turnout in Kunduz city. Both Sediqi and Setayesh said the same was the case in the districts where men did not allow their female family members to go out to vote for security reasons.

The Taleban also mined roads. On 23 October 2018, when the author returned from Takhar and travelled through Kunduz, he noticed that parts of the main Takhar-Kunduz highway had been destroyed by explosive devices planted at the roadside during the election days. There were also burned out military vehicles and destroyed police checkpoints visible on that highway.

The Taleban’s ability to inflict a high level of Election Day violence has resulted from a badly deteriorating security situation in the province over recent years. Currently, the Taleban control three districts of Kunduz. In three more districts, the government presence is limited to the district centres and a few villages around the district governor’s compounds. In the remaining three, the government and the Taleban each hold almost half of the districts (read AAN’s previous analysis about security in Kunduz here and here).

Elections in Kunduz city

The parliamentary election in Kunduz city was held in a chaotic environment. There were fears immediately before Election Day that the Taleban might overrun the provincial centre for another time (read media report here). Most of the 35 PCs in the city were targeted by Taleban mortar and rocket fire.

According to journalist Hamnawa, many parliamentary candidates provided transportation for voters to get to PCs. He told AAN that the parliamentary candidates, together with their agents, frequently visited PCs to mobilise people to take part in the election. Speaking to AAN’s Farhad Nuri, a shopkeeper in Kunduz city, said most of the shops in the city ran out of mobile credit cards. “Candidates and their agents bought up all mobile credit cards to call people and to encourage them to vote.” Nevertheless, Hamnawa said, most people preferred to stay away from voting due to the threats and the violence on Election Day.

Impact on turnout

Provincial security officials confirmed that insecurity had caused serious challenges for people wishing to cast their votes. However, Police chief Nuristani told AAN that the Taleban had failed to disrupt the election. He said the security forces “managed to protect the PCs” and – counter-factually, given successful Taleban attacks on two PCs in Imam Saheb – that they “repelled the Taleban’s attacks.” Candidate Majedi added, “Despite of serious risks men and women came out to cast their votes.” Many locals, nevertheless, told AAN that most of the PCs across the province faced serious security challenges to their operation.

Also, the turnout figures from the districts, as suggested above, speak another language compared with the officially given figures and the security officials’ optimistic statements. The Taleban threats before and their attacks on Election Day meant voter turnout figures were much lower than expected – only between 32,000 to 35,000 people voted across the province, according to the Provincial Independent Election Commission (PIEC). (In the 2010 parliamentary election, some 115,000 votes in Kunduz were considered valid by the IEC.) (2) The official 2018 turnout figures represent between 18.8 and 20.6 per cent of the 169,802 registered voters, of whom men were 108,832, women 60,843 and Kuchis 127 (see IEC data for registered voters in Kunduz here), and only seven per cent of the estimated population in voting age. (The number of registered voters was only about 34 per cent of the voting age population; the total population of the province is 1,091,116, according to Afghanistan’s Central Statistic Office, see p25 here).

Of the official 32-35,000 voters, only 8,750 participated in the districts (plus possibly some few in Khanabad and Aqtash districts, but where the district governors refused to give figures). This is around one quarter of the provincial total, meaning that three quarters of the turnout came from Kunduz city.

Technical and organisational problems leading to more disenfranchisement

Apart from the insecurity and violence, technical issues and shortcomings of the provincial IEC workers were the other factors that negatively affected the turnout. Several local journalists in Kunduz told AAN that, in most of the PCs, voter registration lists were not available. This forced people to visit other polling centres in order for them to find their names and be able to vote. The use of the biometric voter verification devices and the lack of experience of the staff in handling them was another factor that meant casting a vote took a long time and resulted in long queues. Waiting for a long time in an insecure situation, and with frequent shelling, made many voters return home without casting their votes.

However, it has remained unclear how many ballot boxes and votes would be invalidated. Muhammad Sediq Samim, the head of the Kunduz Election Complaints Commission (ECC), told AAN that they had already suggested a recount of votes in some PCs in insecure areas. According to him, 239 complaints have been registered for reasons including: “manipulations, fraud, and IEC workers’ were campaigning for some specific candidates.” Samim also said that, in some PCs, there was some ballot box stuffing inside the city and in some districts, but he refused to give the exact locations. Observer organisations also have not been ready to share their findings with AAN thus far.

The ECC call for recounting might result in votes being invalidated in some Kunduz PCs. This would reduce the turnout figures that PIEC announced even further.

Election in Kunduz’s districts

Rasul Omar of the provincial IEC told AAN that voters in three districts, Qala-ye Zal, Gulbad and Gultepa, were not able to cast their votes. In Gulbad and Gultepa, there had been no voter registration at all due to insecurity (see here).

Further, Omar said 18 out of the total 54 PCs in the remaining six districts were closed and six other PCs, in Khanabad and Imam Saheb districts, only operated for half a day because of the Taleban’s intense attacks. This meant that 36 PCs – only two thirds of the total – opened in the districts, and some for only a part of the time. (In 2010, 8.4 per cent of all planned polling stations in Kunduz were reported closed on election day by the IEC, see AAN report here; no figures about polling centres available.)

The election did not take place in three out of a total of nine districts of Kunduz due to insecurity: Qala-ye Zal, Gulbad and Gultepa. AAN interviewed the governors of the six districts where elections were held to obtain an overview of the turnout (district population figures from the Central Statistics Office, p25 here and IEC voter registration figures here). The figures below, according to district governors, are the officially numbers taken from the PCs where the result sheets were published after counting. The final breakdown of the turnout will be released by IEC. AAN tried to corroborate these figures, but the independent election observer organisations declined to share their figures. None has officially published their reports as yet; and only the Transparent Election Foundation of Afghanistan (TEFA) held a press conference on 28 October.

Dasht-e Archi district

In Dasht-e Archi, a heavily contested district, the government presence is limited to the district governor’s compound and a few nearby villages. Therefore, the voters were either local government officials or those who live in the government-controlled areas.

Afghanistan’s Central Statistic Office (CSO) estimated the total population of Dasht-e Archi at 92,576 people. During the voter registration between May and June 2018, the IEC registered 9,277 people as voters; ten per cent of the population. The turnout, however, was far lower. According to Nasruddin Sahdi, the district governor, Taleban threats and a lack of sufficient training of the IEC workers to use biometric devices negatively affected the turnout. Speaking to AAN he said, Taleban targeted four PCs that operated in the district by shooting rockets and machine guns at them. Therefore, he said the turnout in the district was as low as 400 voters – this is only 4.3 per cent of the registered voters and less than one per cent of the voting age population. (3)

Chahrdara district

In Chahrdara, another contested district, to the west of Kunduz city, the government only controls a small part of the district centre. Therefore, the IEC had opened only one PC in the government-control area and this had remained closed until 11:00 am.

Turnout remained very low. According to district governor Zalmai Faruqi, the Taleban blocked most of the roads leading to district centre to prevent people from reaching the PC. He told AAN that the Taleban also fired mortars and rockets targeting the district centre. According to Faruqi, the number of voters was 450 people, ie 12.5 per cent of the registered voters and around one percent of the population in voting age. The total population of the district, according to CSO, is 80,196 people. The IEC had registered 3,598 voters, 4.4 per cent of the total population.

Aliabad district

In Aliabad, the government presence is larger compared to Dasht-e Archi and Chahrdara and they control almost half of the district. The CSO estimates its total population at 51,455 people. According to IEC data, 7,815 people were registered as voters. This is less than two thirds of the voting age population.

District governor Emamuddin Quraishi told AAN that the turnout was between 2,700 and 2,800 voters, ie 34.5 to 35.8 per cent of the registered voters and slightly over 20 per cent of the total voting age population. Quraishi said “Taleban fired mortar rounds and rockets against the PCs during the Election Day; most voters did not take a risk to get out and to cast their votes.” There were eight PCs in Aliabad, and six of them were open.

Imam Saheb district

Imam Saheb, another contested district in northern Kunduz, also faced serious security threats. The Afghan government controls almost half of it. The remaining half is either control by the Taleban or else is heavily contested by them. The CSO estimates its total population at 220,256 people. The IEC recorded a high number of registered voters, 41,147 people.

According to district governor Mu’in Saedi, the Taleban carried out attacks against PCs in several parts of the district. He told AAN that the Taleban overran two PCs, Ab Forushan primary school and Abdulrahman Turk primary school, and took away election materials, including biometric devices. A further three PCs, out of a total of 19, remained close because of insecurity. Saedi said the turnout was low, with between 4,000 and 5,000 voters. That would be between 9.9 and 12.1 per cent of the total registered voters (between 3.6 and 4.4 per cent of the total voting age population).

Khanabad district

Khan Abad is another example where the government’s presence is larger than the Taleban’s, but where there was a low turnout. The CSO estimated the population at 150,544 people, of which the IEC registered 22,840 people as voters (less than one third of the voting age population). During and after the Election Day the Taleban launched rockets and shot with machine guns at the district centre to disrupt the security. As a result, one PC remained close and two others, out of a total 14 PCs, operated for some hours only in the morning of the Election Day.

District governor Hayatullah Ameri told AAN that insecurity was the major factor that prevented many voters from casting their votes. He refused to share information on the number of voters. However, he said the turnout was “very low.”

Aqtash district

Aqtash is a newly established district largely controlled by the Taleban. The CSO gives a total population estimate of 26,629 people. The IEC registered 4,781 people as voters. According to district governor Zabihullah Aimaq, there were two PCs in the district and both operated on Election Day. Aimaq said there were “good elections” in his district. He refused to give further details about the turnout and security during the Election Day. Haji Fazel, a local from Aqtash, told AAN that, because of Taleban large presence in the district, most people did not take part in the election. He added that the two PCs were both located in government-control area.

Qala-ye Zal district

Qala-ye Zal had 2,583 voters registered by the IEC, but no election took place because of general insecurity and Taleban attacks against the district centre. As a result, all three PCs that were supposed to operate in the district (all in its centre) reportedly remained closed.

Gulbad and Gultepa districts

Both Gulbad and Gultepaare newly established districts that are entirely under Taleban control. Therefore, neither voter registration, nor parliamentary election, took place.

Large voter disenfranchisement in rural and urban areas

Kunduz’ low turnout and its high degree of resulting voter disenfranchisement was caused mainly by the Taleban’s aggressive stance towards the election and high-level of actual violence on Election Day. These problems were exacerbated by the same technical and organisational problems reported from elsewhere in the country. However, the Taleban threats and violence failed to entirely stop Kunduzis from taking part in the election.

The combination of security and organisational problems strongly impacted not only Kunduz’s rural, but also its urban, population. The urban-rural divide observed by AAN in other provinces also manifested itself in Kunduz, as a large majority of voters came from the provincial and some district centres.

The question remains as to whether a larger number of people will take part in the presidential election scheduled for April 2019, if the security situation does not significantly improve.

 

(1) In the 6 November 2018 UNAMA civilian protection special report “2018 Election Violence” that was released while this text was under work, Kunduz province is not mentioned. According to this National Democratic Institute report, already the 2010 parliamentary elections were “plagued by election day violence.” It quotes candidates saying voter turnout was “extremely low”, particularly in Chahrdara and Dasht-e Archi.

(2) Read AAN impressions from the presidential elections in 2014 here and here.

(3) According to the World Bank, nearly two thirds of Afghanistan’s population is below 25 years of age. This gives a countrywide voting age population of around 50 per cent. We use this percentage here roughly, in order to show orders of magnitude, rather than the exact figures.

 

The people of Kandahar cast their vote on 27 October 2018, a week later than the rest of the country. Although no figures have been released, turnout appears to have been good in Kandahar city and Spin Boldak, as was expected, and patchy to nonexistent in most other districts. The IEC had stressed that the bad experience of the first two days of the election would not be repeated in Kandahar. Still, the vote was marred by late starts and technical problems, which the IEC is trying to underplay. AAN’s Ali Mohammad Sabawoon takes a closer look (with input from Martine van Bijlert).

Security, voting and turnout

The people of Kandahar went to cast their vote on 27 October 2018, a week later than the rest of the country. (1) The day before the election, Abdul Badi Sayad, the Head of the IEC announced they intended to open 172 polling centres across the province with a total of 1112 polling stations. Sayad said possibly “some 12 polling centres may remain closed because of security reasons.” He also said there would be no vote in Maruf and Nesh due to insecurity, since there had been no registration in those districts. (2)

On election day security was tight. Security officials had announced a transport ban, starting the day before the election at 2:00 pm. Movement by vehicle in Kandahar city was forbidden, unless permission had been granted. (Every candidate was given permission for the use of two vehicles; observers and reporters were also allowed to move in the city to visit polling centres and cover the election). Abdul Hanan Munib, the acting governor of Kandahar, told the media in the morning that the government would provide voters the facilities of mili buses (government local buses) in the city. He also said that the health department of Kandahar had prepared ambulances in case something happened or civilians faced health problems. AAN asked three voters if they had seen any buses in action. Two of them said they had indeed seen some buses moving in the city but that they had not been enough to tackle the problems of voters in term of transportation.

The turnout in Kandahar city and Spin Boldak district – the home area of assassinated General Razeq –, according to observers, appeared to be good, with women coming out to vote as well. Kandahar city and Spin Boldak were also where, by far, the most voters had registered (see this AAN dispatch for details). Turnout was less in the nearby districts and negligible in the more remote and insecure districts.

According to Ataullah Wisa, a civil society activist, there had been no voting at all in Reg and Shurabak districts; “Not a single person voted,” he said (which should not come as a surprise, given that these districts registered respectively only 161 and 203 voters). He thought there had been some voting in Khakrez, but not in all centres (Khakrez actually had only two polling centres with a voter registration of 409, 32 of which were women). He thought the overall turnout had been good and corruption less than in previous elections, because of the use of biometric checks – based on contacts with observers and what he had seen on social media. He hoped this would lead to a change in the province’s representation. “Thank God,” he said, “it seems that the old members of the Wolesi Jirga did not receive enough votes to return to the parliament.”

Residents in Ghorak district said the security forces were the only ones to cast their votes in that district. Juma Khan, a resident of the Ghorak, told AAN that two IEC teams had gone to Kikak village where the security forces were based (Kikak is also where Ghorak’s district centre was shifted to, in summer 2018). He said “There were no observers in this centre. The security forces voted, but no civilians cast their vote.” According to him, 570 security forces had registered there during registration process, but he did not know how many cast their votes. He said the civilians even hadn’t registered.

Ghausuddin Frotan, a local journalist and observer, told AAN that turnout appeared to be low even close to Kandahar city. By 10:30 on election day he had seen only two voters cast their votes in the polling centre of Mirwais Mena. Mirwais Mena is around five kilometres from Kandahar city.

A repeat of the first two election days: late starts and technical problems

Like in the rest of the country (see earlier AAN reports here and here), Kandahar’s vote was marred by technical and logistical problem, despite assurances by the head of the IEC that the bad experience from 20 October would not be repeated here. According to the IEC, they had provided additional training and had created reserve voters lists as well as backup biometric systems, so that whenever a problem occurred they would be able to quickly address it.

Still there were many complaints: many polling centres did not open on time; voter lists were missing, wrong or incomplete; and there were still problems with the biometric system.

An observer from Kandahar told AAN that polling centres in Kandahar city, Panjwai, Zharai and Arghandab, and Kuchis centres in Spin Boldak districts did not start their work on time – either because of the late arrival of the staff or their unfamiliarity with the biometric system. As a result, the polling centres opened at 9:00 am, 10:00 am, sometimes not until noon. This occurred for instance in Aino Mena’s Sayed Jamaluddin Afghan polling centre, Malalai high school and in Shah Bazar Jama polling centre. Once the centres were open, there were still problems with the voter lists and many people were unable to find their names. In some cases, the lists of one centre had gone to the other and the other to the next, which meant that in those centres nobody could find their names in the list.

Large crowds of people gathered in front of Sayed Jamaluddin Afghan polling centre in Aino Mena, where voting started two hours late. Muhammad Salim, a voter, later told AAN that in this centre the problem had been the biometric system. He said that many of the employees were not familiar with it and many people had been unable to find their names in the voter lists. A journalist who did not want his name to be mentioned gave AAN a different explanation: “The biometric system of Sayed Jamaluddin Afghan polling centre was forcefully taken away by a candidate and then at 11:00 am it was brought back to the polling centre.”

The polling centre in Safiya Ama Jan girls’ high school, nearby, only opened at 11:00 am. Observers said that the ballot papers reached the centre late. Shafia, a voter, told AAN at noon, that she had come at 7:00 am and was still waiting to vote, five hours later. Safiya, a woman in Nahiya three, said that in a polling centre here the biometric system had worked only until noon and after that it no longer worked. “After that,” she said, “the voters were allowed to vote without biometrics.”

In other places it had been possible to vote without biometrics or voter lists, even earlier. A man who was speaking to Radio Liberty’s Pashto service from Kandahar Aino Mena, nearly two hours after the election began said that although he had registered himself in Nahiya two, he now lives in Aino Mena. He said he tried to go to the place where he registered, but because of the ban on transportation he couldn’t. Because he knew someone among the employees of the commission in Aino Mena, they had helped him cast his vote without checking his name in the list. He said he was the first among all those waiting to vote.

In the centre of Mahmud Tarzi high school in Kandahar city, ballot papers ran out and the biometric system was out of order. In Zaher Shahi high school many people could not find their names on the list; many went home without casting their votes. In Shahid Azimullah school, the women polling stations opened very late and the women faced many problems waiting in line. Once it was their turn, many could not find their names on the list. In Malalai high school, in Nahiya one of the city, only one of the three women polling centres was active and had a functioning biometric system. The employees of the remaining two centres were sitting doing nothing, as well as the observers.

In some places, particularly in the districts, staff did not turn up at all. In Moshan village, Panjwai district, for instance, only 12 out of the 20 IEC employees turned up. After a long wait, many people went home without casting their votes.

Missing materials in Kuchi centres

Frotan, the journalist and observer wrote in his face book page at 11:30 on election day, that tens of people were waiting to cast their votes in Ghazi Amanullah Khan polling centre of Kokran area, in an outskirt of Kandahar city. He said the centre was still closed because voting materials had not arrived. This was a separate Kuchi centre. Many people had come to the centre early in the morning and had waited for hours. He later said the centre opened very late in the afternoon.

There were also reports from Spin Boldak in the morning that Kuchis were waiting in front of their polling stations, but that there were no materials. AAN talked to Kandahar’s provincial IEC head, doctor Nematullah Wardak, on election day just before noon. He confirmed that the materials for Kuchis in Spin Boldak had not been sent, but said they were working on it. Wardak later told AAN that they had sent materials in the afternoon. Spin Boldak is nearly one and half hour drive from Kandahar city.

There were also reports of Kuchis being deprived from casting their votes in the Haji Aziz area of Nahiya five of Kandahar city. Muhammad Abdullah, a Kuchi elder, told AAN on 30 October that the Kuchis had a very good in turnout here, but that “the ballot papers finished in the afternoon and many Kuchis could not cast their votes.” He said that in their area there was only one polling station. (There seem to be two possible explanations here. Either the IEC mistakenly sent fewer ballots than had registered as voters, or more people tried to vote than had originally been registered.)

A journalist in Kandahar city who did not want to be named told AAN that he  thought the late opening of polling stations for Kuchis in Spin Boldak, Zhari and Kokaran had been a planned issue, so that a particular candidate could receive – presumably fraudulent – votes and that this candidate was supported by the police in those stations.

Voter influencing

There were also reports of (attempted) voter influencing. For instance Abdul Sabor, a resident of Kandahar city, told AAN that on election day he saw a large candidate photo stuck on a vehicle, close to the polling station, which is contrary to the election law. According to reports from a women polling centre in Sufi Baba in Chawnai area of Kandahar, a woman candidate was telling voters to cast their votes in her favour and was telling election employees to let her voters vote without a thorough check of the registration stickers and lists. According to a complaint from Zhari district, a journalist in Kandahar told AAN, in a Kuchi polling centre the voters were not allowed to cast their votes, unless they voted for a particular candidate. The observer said this took place with the help of the police and the observers who were present.

Muhammad Yar Yar, a famous poet and politician in Kandahar, wrote on his Facebook page “In Abdul Hadi Dawi polling centre of Dand district, the head of police district and the police on duty were forcing people to vote for [three specific candidates]. They did not let the observers of other candidates observe the process. They broke the mobiles of observers and tore their documents.”

Reports of fraud

There were indications of fraud in the election as well. Nematullah Wardak from the IEC said they had received reports of ballot stuffing in Panjwai district, which they were investigating. Abdul Wodud Tarah, a commissioner in Kandahar’s Election Complaint Commission office told AAN on 30 October, that more than 100 employees of the Complaints Commission, in different places, had been forced to leave the polling centres where they were stationed by powerful candidates and had not been allowed to observe the process.” He further said there were reports that some candidates had ballot stuffing done in their favour during the night before the election. He also said that in Spin Boldak a son of a candidate had told the voters they would not be allowed to vote, unless they cast their vote in favour of his father. “Nearly 300 voters went back home without casting their votes,” Tarah said.

Responses by the IEC and ECC

Nematullah Wardak, head of Kandahar election commission, admitted in a press conference just after the election that there had been some “technical problems in the beginning.” He said this had caused “ten per cent of the polling centres” to open late. He also admitted that dozens of election commission employees had not shown up because of security threats and that this had caused polling centres to open late. Wardak also accepted that in some places there had been a shortage of ballots papers and the commission had not transferred all ballots to the centers, but he said they had been able to cover it during the day.

On 30 October Wardak told AAN that “according to the information we have received by phone from all over the province, a total of around 230,000 people voted in Kandahar province.” This represents a little over 40 per cent of the number of registered voters. He said that according to his information all polling centres had been open, although in some cases, he said, “one or two polling stations [in a centre] may have remained closed, either because of technical problem or the low number of voters.”

Some observers, however, estimated that as many as 200 employees of the election commission may have been absent on the day of election. They thought that probably in particular some women staff had not been allowed to go to work by their husbands or family members, because they thought that after the assassination of General Razeq the security situation may get worse.

Karimullah Stanakzai, the head of the Electoral Complaint Commission (ECC) said in the same press conference that they had received around 350 complaints from Kandahar province on its election day. Twelve had been officially submitted and the rest came in by phone. He said the complaints included the late opening of polling centres, nonexistence of voter’s names in the lists, technical problem with the usage of the biometric system or the absence of the biometric system and the influencing of voters. He said that, those complaints would be investigated in 15 days. Abdul Wodood Tarah, a commissioner in Kandahar’s Election Complaint Commission office told AAN on 30 October, that by that time “around 200 complaints” had been officially registered with the commission (so not counting the complaints that had only come in by phone.

The Kandahar IEC’s Wardak told AAN on 30 October that the ballots had reached Kandahar city from all districts, but had not yet been officially handed over to the commission. The ballots were transferred from five districts – Ghorak, Mianeshin, Reg, Khakrez and Shorabak – by air.” Wardak said that turnout had been highest in Kandahar city and Spin Boldak district (which was to be expected, given the registration figures), but that he did not know what other districts had seen significant turnout.

Looking ahead

In the coming weeks, the IEC will be counting Kandahar’s vote and entering the numbers into the database. It will also be deciding what to do with the votes that were cast without voter lists or biometric verification. If the rules are applied strictly, this may become tumultuous. People who have stood in line for hours might see their votes invalidated because of logistical problems, hardware failure or because IEC staff didn’t properly follow the procedures. Candidates are likely to clamour in an effort to get boxes that hold their votes accepted. If the rules are not applied strictly, the IEC might let through clear cases of ballot stuffing.

Edited by Martine van Bijlert

 

(1) The week-long delay of Kandahar’s election was in response to the assassination of General Abdul Razeq, the chief of Kandahar police and General Abdul Momin Hussainkhel, the head of national security department, two days before the country’s parliamentary election (see here).

(2) According to this list of Afghanistan’s Independent Election Commission, the IEC, 567,608 people had registered to cast their votes, 73,595 of which were women and 10,262 of which had registered for the nationwide Kuchi constituency (gender not specified). They could choose between 111 candidates (112 minus one: Nasir Mobariz who was assassinated nearly a month ago in Kandahar), 12 of which were women. The candidates were competing for 11 seats (3 of which were allocated to the women).

 

 

When the Independent Election Commission (IEC), at the last minute, introduced the use of biometric machines in the Wolesi Jirga election, it approved a procedure stipulating that the votes cast without the new system would be invalid. But it never decidedly clarified what it would do with the polling stations that failed to use them. Then, on election day, the IEC allowed voting in those stations. It has since found itself struggling to decide what to do with the votes that were cast without biometrics. In response, the Electoral Complaints Commission (ECC) stepped in to try to force the IEC to implement its pre-election day procedures. The controversy has, for now, resulted in a compromise that clarifies the criteria for the validation and invalidation of votes, but is unlikely to pre-empt the problems that will continue to flow from the chaotic implementation of the new system. AAN’s Ali Yawar Adili reports the details.

The problem: Unclear IEC procedures on how to deal with the malfunctioning of the biometrics

The decision by the Independent Election Commission (IEC) to introduce biometric machines in the October Wolesi Jirga elections was made at the last minute and under heavy political pressure (see here for details). As a result, the IEC did not have sufficient time to receive and ship the devices to the provinces, train personnel in how to operate them, or think through the possible problems they might face. While the IEC said the biometric machines would be an important anti-fraud measure, it never definitively clarified what it would do if they were not delivered to the polling centres (a polling centre has at least one male and one female polling station) or if the separate polling stations (within the polling centres that did receive the devices) failed to use them. The scenarios were manifold: The machines were not delivered to polling centres at all, they were delivered but did not work, the employees could not operate them, they were used at the beginning of the day but stopped functioning during the day, their printers ran out of paper, etc.

The IEC’s pre-election day procedure regarding the use of the biometric system had prescribed that ballots without biometric stickers would be considered invalid (the biometric sticker – with the polling centre code, date of voting, time of voting, a unique code and an encrypted QR image – was to be printed and attached to the ballot paper after the voter’s biometric data was captured ). The IEC’s procedure, however, fell short of specifying how votes from polling stations where no biometric machines were used at all would be treated. (1)

As anticipated, it emerged in the early hours of voting on 20 October that biometric machines had not been delivered to some polling stations or failed to work or employees were unable to operate them. This prompted the IEC to take an impromptu decision (No 89-1397), which was read at a noon press conference on the first day of the election (see also AAN’s previous reporting here). It said:

In polling stations where the biometric machines failed to work or have not been delivered, technical options [unclear what this means] should be used to solve the problem. If the problem remains [unresolved], contingency machines or the machines belonging to closed polling centres should be used. If the problem still remains [unresolved], the voting should continue based on the voter list and people should be allowed to vote. At the end, the polling station chairperson and monitors should write the issue in the journal in detail and get the approval of the agents and observers.

While this decision authorised the polling station officials to conduct the voting without biometric machines (if no machine was available), it did not rule expressly on the validity of those votes. But it did appear to indirectly revoke the IEC’s earlier decision that votes without biometric QR stickers would be counted as invalid (as it makes no sense to allow voting if the votes will not be considered valid). The IEC’s failure to clarify this point later put it at loggerheads with the ECC.

Scope of the problem: How many polling stations did not use biometric machines?

There is no real clarity on how many ballot boxes may be affected by the controversy. The IEC has been giving conflicting figures. IEC chairman Gula Jan Abdul Badi Sayyad, on 24 October while inaugurating the IEC’s national tally centre, said that biometric devices had not been used in more than 20 per cent of the polling centres across the country and that IEC employees were trying to tally the votes of those centres more carefully (media report here). Other media (see here and here quoted the IEC as saying that the machines had not been used in around 20 per cent of the polling centres, either because the machines had not been delivered or faced technical problems. IEC spokesman Hafizullah Hashemi, on the other hand, told the BBC on 28 October that they had provinces on their list where biometric devices were used in only 50 per cent of the polling centres.

On 31 October, a deputy spokesperson for the IEC, Zabihullah Sadat, told AAN that the biometric devices had been used in more than 90 per cent of the polling centres. He said that in provinces such as Kunar, Laghman and Panjshir, the biometric devices had been used in 98 per cent of the polling centres, while in some other provinces the biometric machines had been used in 95 or 92 per cent of the polling centres. (The seemingly conflicting figures could both be true at the same time: It is possible that in 20 per cent of the polling centres at least one of the stations had a problem with biometrics and that in 90 per cent of all polling centres at least one station’s biometrics was used correctly. The reality is that ‘polling centre’ is not the relevant unit – the polling station is).

Muhammad Nateqi, the deputy head of Hezb-e Wahdat-e Islami-e Mardom-e Afghanistan and a spokesperson for the political parties,told AAN that the IEC had told the political parties that only 8 per cent of the polling centres had not used biometric machines. He also said that the IEC should validate results coming from the polling centres that had used biometric machines, even if this was done in only 70–80 per cent of all centres, and that in the remaining 20–30 per cent, the IEC could hold a fresh election.

The independent observer organisation TEFA (Transparent Election Foundation of Afghanistan), in its preliminary findings (which it presented in a press conference on 28 October; AAN has a copy of the report), reported the absence of biometric devices in 18 per cent of the polling stations it observed (in 16 provinces) and a malfunction of the devices in 42 per cent of polling stations, “causing hours of delays and eventually forcing workers to continue without using the biometric system.” (TEFA’s preliminary report also said there had been no voter lists in 21 per cent of the polling stations it observed and that the voter lists in the remaining 79 per cent of the centres had problems such as missing names, individuals aged 40 or 50 registered as under-age, and voter lists being sent to the wrong provinces.) (2)

As seen above, there is no clarity and precision on (a) how many (and which) polling centres did not receive biometric devices at all, (b) how many polling stations (and which) in the polling centres that did received the machines could not use them, and (c) how many polling stations (and which) that did use the machines could not use them throughout the election day, for instance because the machine stopped functioning or the printers ran out of paper.

The response: The ECC steps in

In response to the ambiguity, the Electoral Complaints Commission (ECC) issued a decision on 27 October, undersigned by all five commissioners, regarding the “implementation of the criteria to separate valid votes from invalid votes” in the 20 October Wolesi Jirga elections. The ECC said it had taken the decision after analysing “the prevailing situation related to the election, the volume and intensity of the complaints, and legal and technical consultation with a broad range of political parties, election related civil society organisations and the Independent Election Commission, in order to manage the current situation based on its legal mandates.”

In its decision the ECC set the following criteria for the validation or invalidation of the votes:

1. Votes that were cast based on biometric registration and in accordance with the relevant and available voter lists are valid (unless there are other reasons to deem them invalid).
2. Votes that were cast based on biometric registration, in the absence of voter lists but based on a manual list, are valid, if the data matches the original list of the relevant centre (unless there are other reasons to deem them invalid).
3. Votes that were cast based on the official voter list but without biometrics are recognised as invalid as they are in contradiction with the polling and vote counting procedure on the use of biometric machines.
4. Votes that were cast without a biometric barcode and without the use of the official lists are completely invalid. (3)

The ECC’s 27 October decision led to heated discussions as to which commission was actually mandated by the electoral law to rule on the validation or invalidation of the votes. (4)The IEC strongly reacted. On 28 October, IEC spokesperson Hashemi told the BBC that the ECC did not have the authority to declare votes that were cast without biometric data capturing as invalid. He called the ECC’s decision “illegal and immoral” saying: “This was a khod namayi wa nomayish (a swagger and a show) to promote themselves and has no legal basis.”

Political parties and figures, on the other hand, welcomed and supported the ECC’s decision. For instance, Muhammad Omer Daudzai, head of the political committee of the Council for Protection and Stability of Afghanistan (AAN’s background here), wrote on his Facebook page that the ECC’s decision “is praiseworthy and supported by us.” He claimed that “incompetence, various types of obvious and widespread violations, and fraud have caused concern for all the people and political currents of Afghanistan.” The ECC, he said, “has the duty and responsibility to address all complaints and objections carefully and comprehensively. That the [ECC] took such a realistic and correct decision at this sensitive and crucial time is appreciable.”

The Wolesi Jirga also backed the invalidation of votes without biometric verification. Its speaker, Abdul Rauf Ibrahimi, said in the house’s 29 October plenary session: “It was a matter of principle to use biometric machines for transparency in the elections. All the political currents of Afghanistan had reached an agreement on it and now this agreement should be acted upon.” Bamyan MP Fakuri Beheshti said that the IEC staff had not allowed anyone in Bamyan “to vote without biometric verification, but now if the votes without biometric [QR sticker] are also validated, it would be an obvious discrimination because the likelihood of fraud in polling centres where biometric system has not been used is higher.” (see here)

Others questioned the ECC’s decision. For instance, Etilaat Roz wrote on 29 October, “With this ECC decision, the votes of a significant number of the citizens which were cast into ballot boxes without biometric [verification] following the IEC’s decision during the first day of the election would be invalidated and this means disenfranchising a large part of the citizens of Afghanistan.” It further said that the ECC “should not burn the wet and dry together.”

A joint IEC-ECC decision

After the ECC’s 27 October decision, the two electoral commissions (the IEC and the ECC) met to discuss their differences, which they now seem to have reconciled. On 30 October, the IEC and ECC issued a joint statement, laying out the following three criteria for votes to be deemed valid:

Votes can be considered valid if coming from polling stations and centres:

• where voting was conducted based on biometric verification and in accordance with the printed voters list;
• where biometric machines were used based on manual lists (because no printed voter lists were available), provided that the names of the voters on the manual list are recorded in the IEC’s central database [i.e. the voters were registered during the voter registration exercise];
• where the biometric devices were not used but a printed voter list was available (the votes from these polling stations are valid provided that (a) the chairperson of the polling station, and the agents and observers that were present approved [signed] them and (b) there are no complaints and objections against those ballot boxes and the votes inside them). (5)

The joint statement implies that the ECC has overturned its previous ruling where it called for the invalidation of all votes that were cast based on the official voter list but without biometrics but has negotiated the addition of two conditions for them to be considered valid (the observers and agent present had signed their consent and there were no complaints against the ballot box in question). The statement also shows that the IEC has now more clearly derogated from its original procedure on the use of biometric machines, which ruled that ballots without biometric barcode stickers would be invalid.

Yusuf Rashid, the executive director of the independent observer organisation FEFA (Free and Fair Election Forum of Afghanistan) told AAN on 31 October that the two new conditions to validate the votes of polling stations that had the printed voter list, but did not use biometric machines, were not sufficient. He said that it was easy to fake the agent and observer signatures and that even as head of FEFA he could not rely on the signatures of his observers in the remote areas (where they can be easily pressured or bought). He said that FEFA’s advice to the ECC was to treat that category of votes more carefully. Rashid said that, on the other hand, it would also be unfair to invalidate all those votes, because they included genuine votes as well. For instance, in Rabia Balkhi High School in Kabul he observed a couple of polling stations that did not use biometric machines, but where at least 200 voters queued to vote. (The author also observed a large number of voters queuing at one of the four male polling stations in his polling centre in PD six of Kabul that was not using biometric machines (see here).

Political parties’ position and reactions to the joint decision

On 31 October, Muhammad Nateqi, the deputy head of Wahdat-e Islami, told AAN that the political parties would stick to their position that votes from polling stations that did not use biometric machines should be invalidated. He said that political parties had been working on another official statement to reiterate their position on non-biometric votes. The statement (see here and here) was issued the following day, on 1 November. They reiterated “that the votes of the [polling] centres where biometric [for capturing the data] of voters was not implemented are not acceptable to the parties and that the [IEC] can hold fresh elections in those areas.” (6)

The political parties had been the main force pushing for the biometric system (see earlier AAN reporting on how their protests forced the government and IEC’s hand here). Two weeks before election day, on 6 October, political parties had already demanded that biometric verification should be used countrywide and that the votes from polling stations where the biometric fingerprint was not carried out should be invalidated. On 22 October, after the second day of the voting, the political parties issued an accusatory statement, saying that “on 20 and 21 October, the biometric system for [capturing the data of] voters was, intentionally, not used in the majority of the polling centres, in order to pave the way for fraud. Therefore, the political parties of Afghanistan consider the election results from polling centres where voting was not conducted with the biometric method as invalid.” (See AAN’s previous reporting here).

Conclusion: IEC and ECC versus political parties

The IEC’s impromptu decision to authorise voting without biometric machines addressed the immediate confusion on election day, but ran contradictory to its pre-election day procedure that called for invalidation of ballots without biometric QR stickers. This pitted the ECC and IEC against each other. It also left genuine voters wondering why their votes, which they had cast without biometric data due to a fault that was not theirs, should be invalidated.

The IEC and ECC have now reconciled their differences and have clarified the procedure. However, the issue is far from solved. The invalidation process is still likely to affect both genuine and otherwise suspicious votes. And the ambiguities in the IEC’s procedure, the changing of the ECC’s position, and the lack of statistics on how many boxes and ballots may be affected have obscured the process of tabulating and tallying the results. This provides a chance for attacks by those parties and candidates who are unsatisfied with the procedure or their specific results.

The political parties’ continued insistence on the invalidation of all votes cast without biometric machines may again lead to an escalation between the IEC and the parties and could delay the announcement of the election results. This, in turn, would likely affect the preparations for the upcoming 20 April 2019 presidential poll.

Edited by Martine van Bijlert

 

(1) The annex on the voting and counting procedures regarding the use of biometric machines said that

The use of biometric machine is mandatory at each polling station. If the biometric machine in a polling station stops functioning for any reason or has not been delivered to a polling station due to problems, the contingency biometric machines or biometric machines of another polling station shall be used.

It also stipulated that “The ballot papers lacking biometric confirmation stickers will be considered as invalid and counted as invalid votes.” The IEC failed to clarify its procedures on what to do if the biometric machines were not working and deferred the decision for the election day.

(2) Other key findings of TEFA include:

• Approximately 91 per cent of the polling centres and stations opened in their pre-determined location.
• Almost 520 centres in 21 provinces (Kabul, Balkh, Samangan, Herat, Paktia, Maidan Wardak, Badghis, Bamyan, Zabul, Nuristan, Parwan, Logar, Ghor, Sar-e Pol, Jawzjan, Faryab, Nangarhar, Laghman, Urozgan, Baghlan, and Kunduz) did not open, mainly due to the absence of IEC workers, insecurity, explosions near the polling centres in provinces like Laghman, Baghlan, and unavailability of sensitive and insensitive electoral materials.
• Twelve per cent of the polling centres opened on time, at 7:00 am.
• Sixty-eight per cent of the polling centres in 33 provinces opened late.
• The security forces were present (as guards) in 98 per cent of the polling centres in 33 provinces.
• The number of IEC workers was insufficient in over 1,600 polling centres in 33 provinces.
• The voter lists were not displayed outside any of the polling stations.
• There were no voter lists in 21 per cent of the polling stations.
• People participated widely, but mismanagement discouraged them.
• Thirty-eight percent of polling stations lacked both sensitive and insensitive polling materials.
• Candidates’ posters were still present within 100 meters of 75 per cent of the polling centres in 33 provinces.
• Over 150 security incidents occurred, including rockets, explosions, conflict between Taleban and security forces, attacks at district centres, and shooting.
• There was a aack of proper coordination between IEC’s headquarters, provincial offices and workers on resolving the ongoing major issues in 17 provinces.
• Coordination between the IEC and the ECC in the polling centres and in handing over complaints forms to ECC delegates was weak.
• Voters’ fingers were not inked in 29 per cent of polling stations in 19 provinces.
• The overwhelming presence of candidates’ agents caused problems in some centres and stations.
• Illegal interventions made by IEC workers were observed in 35 per cent of the centres and station in 28 provinces.
• Problems were created for female voters, observers, and IEC workers due to the extension of the polling phase for another two hours on 20 October.
• A lack of electricity in 79 per cent of the polling centres created challenges in the ballot-counting phase.
• In ninety-three per cent of the polling stations votes were counted in the same station as where they were cast.
• TEFA’s observers were not allowed to observe the ballot-counting phase in 29 per cent of the polling stations.
• The extension of the polling phase for another day facilitated fraud and ballot stuffing in 16 provinces.

(3) The full text of the criteria reads:

1. The votes of ballot boxes from polling stations and centres where the voting had been conducted based on biometric registration in accordance with the relevant and available voter lists are valid, unless they are recognised as invalid due to other credible reasons and evidence in accordance with relevant legal documents.
2. The votes of ballot boxes in which the ballot papers have been cast based on biometric registration in absence of voter list in the polling station but based on manual list, if it matches the original list of the relevant centre, are valid, unless they are recognised as invalid based on credible reasons and documents in accordance with relevant legal documents.
3. The votes cast in the ballot boxes based on voter list and without biometric are recognised as invalid due to contradiction with paragraph four of vote counting section (polling and vote counting procedure of the 2018 Wolesi Jirga elections on use of biometric machines).
4. Votes of ballot boxes in which ballot papers have been cast without biometric barcode and without official list (with manual list) are totally invalidated.

The ECC also ruled that:

• Based on paragraph five of article 94 of the electoral law, if the principles of fair, secret and direct elections in one electoral constituency are compromised, the central complaints commission can declare the elections in that constituency as null. In this case, the IEC shall hold elections in the mentioned constituency within seven days. If based on points three and four of this decision and other legal instances which lead to invalidation of votes inside ballot boxes at the level of a constituency, the fairness, secrecy and other instances of enshrined in the above mentioned article of the electoral law are called into question, fresh elections shall be held in that constituency.
• According to provision of paragraph one of article 87 of the electoral law, in instances where the preliminary vote count or other legal instances are objected, the complaints commission orders full or partial recount of the ballots in the electoral constituency.
• If as a result of reviews it is substantiated based on authentic documents and evidence that employees and managers at any level, candidate or any other individual have committed negligence in their duties or committed electoral crime and damaged or harmed the national process of elections, they shall be introduced to the judicial agencies for prosecution in accordance with the law.

(4) Paragraph one of article 30 of the electoral law sets out the following authorities for the ECC and provincial ECC:

• Addressing objections against the list of candidates and voters, and requirements and qualifications of the candidates brought forward during the election.
• Addressing complaints arising from the electoral violations provided that the complaint is filed in accordance with the provisions of this law within the due period.
• Issuing advice, warning and order of corrective action to the person or organization that has committed the violation.
• Imposing cash fines, depending on the case, in accordance with the provisions of this law.
• Issuing order of recount of votes in specific polling centres prior to announcement of the election results.
• Invalidating the ballot papers not fulfilling the necessary requirements.

Paragraph two of the article says that both the central and provincial ECCs“can remove a candidate from the final list of candidates if proved based on credible documents that he/she was not eligible to nominate according to the provisions of this law.” 

(5) The joint statement also reiterated commitment of both commissions to smooth cooperation and the application of the relevant laws and procedures, saying:

• The electoral commissions are committed to holding joint meetings and taking necessary decisions to enact regulations and procedures related to the work of both commissions.
• The provincial offices of the electoral commissions will do the necessary cooperation to improve affairs in accordance with the law and the relevant procedures and in the presence of agents and observers.
• The electoral commissions will establish a joint committee to speed up the performance [presumably of the count and the complaint adjudication].
• If as a result of reviews it is substantiated, based on authentic documents and evidence, that [electoral] employees and managers at any level, candidates or any other participants in the elections have committed negligence in their duties, electoral crimes or have damaged or harmed the national process of elections, they shall be introduced to the judicial agencies for prosecution in accordance with the law.

(6) The political parties raised the following points:

• The political parties emphasise on separating the clean votes from the fraudulent votes in the central server by considering the biometric [QR sticker] as the criterion and implementing other criteria enshrined in the [IEC’s] annex to polling and vote counting procedures in order to safeguard the clean votes of the people and prevent systematic fraud. If the procedure for using biometric machines is not acted upon, political parties will use [all] necessary tools [after] consulting the people [to reject the results]. We call on the electoral commissions to carry out their legal responsibility in this regard.
• Providing the ground for political parties’ effective monitoring of the consolidation and counting of the results from the beginning to the end can contribute to the legitimacy of the elections. Therefore, no operation in the absence of the effective monitoring by political parties agents [of] the process of consolidation and tallying, review of complaints, quarantining of ballot boxes, recounting of votes and invalidating of the counted votes by the electoral commissions will be acceptable to the political parties. We reiterate that the votes of the [polling] centres where biometric [for capturing the data] of voters was not implemented are not acceptable to the parties and the Election Commission can hold fresh elections in those areas.
• The political parties once again insist on changing the current electoral system and call on the government and the Independent Election Commission to pave the way for the implementation of the MDR [Multidimensional Representation] system in the provincial and district council elections.
• The existing voter list is in no way credible. Therefore, political parties insist on fresh voter registration based on the biometric fingerprint of ten fingers [for] the presidential elections.
• Given that the presidential election date has neared, the Independent Election Commission should publish the electoral calendar for the presidential election as soon as possible and pave the way for transparent and fair elections as it had announced earlier.

 

The assassination of Kandahar’s police chief and strongman of southern Afghanistan Abdul Razeq in Kandahar on 18 October, along with the province’s NDS chief, and more members of the provincial leadership wounded soon overshadowed the killing of parliamentary candidate Abdul Jabbar Qahraman in neighbouring Helmand by a bomb one day earlier. Qahraman means “hero”, a title he had earned as a militia leader under former president Najibullah. His siding with the Watan Party government did not make him everybody’s hero in Afghanistan and former mujahedin declined to honour Qahraman alongside Razeq. President Ashraf Ghani paid a visit to Qahraman’s family on 28 October 2018. An obituary by guest author Michael Semple*.

Abdul Jabbar Qahraman was a larger than life figure who was directly involved in many of the momentous developments of the past forty turbulent years in Afghanistan.  He died in action, in the sense that he was campaigning for the election in Helmand, when an unseen assassin detonated a bomb under his sofa. Jabbar became the tenth candidate to make the ultimate sacrifice for daring to stand for parliament.

Jabbar knew the risks. Indeed, one of the first things that he noted about the Taleban, when the movement emerged in 1994, was their decapitation strategy. He reckoned that the Taleban wanted to impose their authority by eliminating all prominent figures who did not submit to them – an echo of earlier strategies employed by the regime of the People’s Democratic Party of Afghanistan (PDPA), later Fatherland (Watan) Party (1978-92) and the mujahedin who fought it, who both eliminated or exiled the old elites. Jabbar was killed not because he was a candidate, but because he was a famous candidate and, as they highlighted in their statement, a “prominent communist commander.”

Jabbar was the son of a shopkeeper, a member of the Nurzai tribe from Spin Boldak. The family owned some land in the district but Jabbar considered them poor and reckoned that none of relatives had ever held a prominent position. The start of Jabbar’s career is an example of the Afghan military’s old meritocracy. He studied to ninth class in the Ghazi Abdullah Khan Lycee in Kandahar. Then in 1976, during the rule of republican president Muhammad Daud, the national military commission talent-spotted him and had him shifted to Kabul to join the military high school.

Jabbar was still a boy, in the military high school, when revolution came to Afghanistan. Some of his friends concluded that this was a struggle between Islam and the infidels and so Jabbar ended up dropping out and heading to Quetta, to join Hezb-e Islami. Some of his batch mates, such as Zabet Jalal, went on to become famous Hezb commanders. Jabbar spent a year and a half doing organisational work for Hezb-e Islami, before having a change of heart. “My brain began to work” is how be put it. Jabbar later claimed that he concluded that Hezb-e Islami, backed by Pakistan, could not be trusted to stand up for the Afghan national interest. He also ran into tribal problems. The main Hezb commander in Quetta, Mullah Samad, was an Achakzai. There was a long rivalry between the Nurzais and Achakzais of Spin Boldak. “I decided that I must do what was best for my country which meant going back”, is how he put it.

When Jabbar crossed back to Kandahar, he relied on friends in the Ministry of Interior and the intelligence, KhAD, to ensure a good reception. Eventually, he was given a command in Khad, sent to Tashkent for a three month training course, and then deployed to Spin Boldak. From there, Jabbar’s career took off. He recruited a group of twenty-five men and then got transferred to Maiwand, where he built up another group and was so successful that he soon found himself commanding a militia battalion of five hundred men, that was uniformed, within the MoD command structures and deployable outside its home province but still known as militia. Eventually, around 1984, the Ministry of Defence spotted him and had him transferred out of KhAD. They realised that Jabbar had the potential to mobilise men and build up militias of the sort they required to hold the line against the mujahedin. Although he retained his base in Maiwand, Jabbar ended up in command of an independent brigade group in 1988, reporting directly to the Chief of Army Staff and with forces deployed in Kandahar, Helmand, Paktia, and protecting the Kandahar-Kabul highway. He was on first name terms with President Najibullah, Defence Minister Muhammad Rafi and the key figures of both the Parcham and Khalq factions of the government.

Jabbar proudly claimed to have made it from lieutenant to major-general in six years. But he stressed that he relied on his wits and networking skills to maintain security, rather than brute force. He reckoned that, during the battle for control of Kandahar and the highway during the 1990’s, the key to his success was the hospitality he offered in his guest room. At night, Jabbar sat with people, cultivating allies in the tribes and commander networks. The achievement he was most proud of was the relief of a beleaguered garrison in Panjwai. Hundreds of government soldiers died trying to break the siege. Jabbar eventually extricated the garrison with the help of mujahedin collaborators, without a shot fired. Jabbar became famous as a militia commander, on a par with General Dostum and was given the epithet Qahraman, or hero. But he always claimed that he barely fired a shot in anger.

Jabbar was in the thick of things in April 1992, that pivotal time when the failure of Benon Sevan’s UN transition plan led inexorably to Najibullah’s lynching and the squandering of one of Afghanistan’s best chances for peace. In the run up to Najibullah’s anticipated departure, Jabbar deployed troops on the outskirts of Kabul in Deh Sabz. He claimed that he was part of the plan by the government security chiefs to secure the way for Benon Sevan to bring the transitional government from Peshawar. But Dostum and Massud pre-empted the plan, taking over Mazar-e Sharif and then deploying troops to Kabul airport. This was a time when everyone had to pick a new side. Jabbar talked directly with Hekmatyar and threw in his lot with Hezb-e Islami again. Jabbar helped bring Hezb forces into the capital, to counter the northern militias. The stage was set for an Afghan civil war.

Jabbar’s 1992 alliance with Hekmatyar did not last long and he withdrew his men to Helmand. In one of the forgotten episodes of the conflict, Jabbar teamed up with fellow militia commanders Khano and Allah Nur – nominally linked to Jamiat-e Islami – to maintain security in central Helmand. For over a year after the collapse of the Najibullah government, the militias maintained the status quo in Lashkargah, Gereshk, Nad Ali and Nawa. They nominally affiliated with new president Rabbani, but focused on protecting Helmand from the chaos of feuding mujahedin commanders, as witnessed in neighbouring Kandahar and the capital. Eventually Jabbar concluded that their secular enclave was unsustainable. He persuaded General Dostum to organise a nocturnal aerial evacuation to northern Afghanistan, for the Helmand militia leaders. This marked what Jabbar considered the beginning of his “life of wandering”. He divided his time between stints in Quetta under the protection of veteran nationalist politician Mahmood Khan Achakzai, Mazar under protection of Dostum and Moscow, where he started an export-import business. Jabbar offered advice but was never again a major conflict actor.

After the collapse of the Taleban government, Jabbar returned to Afghanistan. His first initiative was a tuition centre in Lashkargah. As if trying to recreate the spirit of the Helmand republic of 1992-1993, the centre boasted a tranquil flower garden, and classes in advanced mathematics, computing, language and science.

But in spirit, Jabbar was still an inveterate political networker, who believed that the links he had cultivated during his time as a militia commander could help end the war. He was elected to the 2010 parliament, which sometimes looked like a reintegration programme for the commanders who faced each other across the frontlines in the 80’s and 90’s. Jabbar’s confidence, intelligence and occasional bombast guaranteed that he would get noticed in parliament. President Ghani was persuaded by Jabbar to appoint him as special representative for security in Helmand. The experience was both frustrating and educative, regarding the difference between Afghanistan of the 1990’s and Afghanistan after 2001. Jabbar found the administration in Helmand more factionalised and resistant to efforts at coordination than when, in the late 1980s, he and General Nur-ul-Haq Ulumi – then in similar role for southern Afghanistan for the PDPA/Watan regime as General Razeq until recently – had contended with Khalq-Parcham rivalries, while trying to co-opt the mujahedin and stabilise Kandahar. Even with the President’s backing, Jabbar could not stamp his authority on the different bits of the security apparatus in contemporary Helmand, and he stepped down from his position in Helmand. However, undaunted, he re-launched the defunct and officially banned Hezb-e Watan in July 2017 (AAN background here) and, when the 2018 parliamentary poll was called, was determined to stand for re-election.

Killing off famous Afghans like Jabbar Qahraman is one of the most sinister aspects of the current Taleban campaign. The assassinations hint at a broader authoritarian project of social control, which involves stripping society of its cultural and historical focal points. The Taleban keep their top leaders cloistered and often obscure the identity of their field commanders and officials. Scholars have documented the ambiguity of the relationship between the Taleban, the tribes and Afghan culture. The Taleban have their roots in the tribes and have repeatedly instrumentalised tribal networks. But the movement has also suppressed traditional tribal authority. The Taleban movement cultivates an image of anonymity and potency.

Jabbar the Hero in 2018 was not a military threat. Rather, Jabbar was someone everyone knew and who could mobilise Afghans through appeals to tribal bonds, or an heroic past or an envisioned future. He was an obstacle to the Taleban’s imposition of the hegemony of their anonymous cadres. He will not be the last Afghan to be killed for being famous. But there are many more Afghans who share his core optimism that the country will survive and emerge from this painful conflict

 

* Michael Semple is a Professor at the Senator George J Mitchell Institute for Global Peace, security and Justice, Queen’s University Belfast. He previously served as a Political Officer with the United Nations and Deputy to the European Union Special Representative in Afghanistan. Michael sought advice from Jabbar Qahraman during his work on reconciliation and interviewed him for an oral history project.

Zurmat district in Paktia province is almost completely under Taleban control. The parliamentary elections were held there only on a tiny island of government control. Turnout was very low on the first election day and limited to the district centre – another example of Afghanistan’s emerging rural-urban voting divide. On day two, attempts of ballot stuffing were observed, when the election commission had allowed to open polling centres that were closed or opened very late on the first election day. Guest author Pakteen Khan*, who spent both election days (20 and 21 October 2018) in Zurmat, tells us what he saw (with input from Thomas Ruttig).

The security situation in Zurmat

Zurmat district is the southwestern most district of Paktia, bordering Paktika in the south, Ghazni in the west and located direct to the southwest of the provincial capital Gardez. The district is the Taleban’s main regional stronghold and the most war-affected district of the province. Tamir, the district centre, is the only area in the district where there is still some government presence. There is a local Afghan National Army (ANA) base, some Afghan National Police (ANP) and some fighters left from a dissolved local Afghan Local Police unit. (The ALP unit was dissolved earlier this year at the request of the local community after some of its members attacked a school girl and robbed the house of a teacher, killing him in the event.) The local government officials live closely together in one particular area of town, called Khwajagan village, near the ANA base, in order to be able to defend themselves.

Zurmat’s security was reinforced in late August 2018 by a “strike unit” (quwa-ye zarbati) that, local sources say, works closely “with the Americans” (possibly the CIA-led Khost Protection Force). The new unit’s main focus is to secure the road between Gardez and Zurmat, where it has taken over the existing ANP check posts. The unit seems to operate out of Khost, and has no base in Tamir.

The areas outside Tamir are under firm Taleban control. A second ANA base in Sahak is encircled and does not carry out any operations. The road leading there from Tamir is heavily mined and unusable for civilian traffic.

For historical reasons, Zurmat is sometimes called Little Kandahar, as a number of prominent Taleban leaders came from the area. For Greater Paktia – the three provinces of Paktia, Paktika and Khost – Zurmat was as important for the insurgents, as Kandahar was for southern Afghanistan (see this background paper).

Two different networks of the Taleban are active in the area: the Haqqani network, led by Qari Shams, and the Mansur network, locally called the ‘Mansurian’ – led by Abdul Latif Mansur, a member of the Taleban leadership and relative of the network’s founder, the late Nasrullah Mansur (for more background, see this AAN paper). They are rivals and keep separate structures, sometimes clashing among themselves, at other times carrying out joint operations. Both were unanimous in their rejection of the elections. They forced local teachers, who were being mobilised all over the country as the principal elections workers, to hand over their tazkeras – both to prevent them from voting and to scare them away from working with the government. The teachers were told they would get their documents back after the elections. (Outside Tamir, the Taleban also keep track of teachers’ school attendance and fine them for absences, in an effort to take control of the local education system.) The teachers, apart from some areas closer to the Gardez-Zurmat road, could do little about it and complied. As a result, very few teachers worked in the few polling centres that did open in Zurmat.

The run-up to the election in Zurmat: Registration, campaigning and threats

Zurmat’s population is estimated at 95,000 by Afghanistan’s Central Statistics Office (see here, p18), not counting the 22,000 people in Rohani Baba district that was recently separated from Zurmat. According to the Independent Election Commission (IEC), over one third – 33,320 people – registered as voters between May and July 2018; 28,408 of them men, 4,031 women and another 881 Kuchis (who were not specified with regard to gender). The IEC claims that all 22 voter registration centres in Zurmat district – that were supposed to double as polling sites on 20 October – were open during the voter registration period. Local observers told AAN, however, this was not the case; the commission’s claims also sound implausible given the almost total Taleban control outside the district centre.

In the run-up to the elections, there were constant warnings by the insurgents not to participate in the polls. Leaflets – so called shabnama(night letters) – were posted in the schools and mosques of Tamir and other villages. Outside Tamir, the Taleban directly addressed mosque congregations and spread their message over mosque loudspeakers. Ahead of election day, no election staff or electoral material was transferred to any of the 19 polling centres outside Tamir, for security reasons. As a result, many people in Zurmat did not expect that the elections would be held in their area.

This was cause for concern, as many people were already unhappy that Zurmat did not have a representative in the previous parliament. This meant that they had no one to raise their problems with in Kabul. These problems ranged from the long-pending, still-unpaved Gardez-Zurmat road, to the provincial and district administration officials who were keeping them waiting with false promises, and, further, the prisoner issues that plague many inhabitants in the district (as a result of Zurmat’s strong insurgency, many local people have relatives who have been – rightly or wrongfully – detained; it is often very difficult to find out where they are without someone speaking for them in the county’s capital).

The election-related awareness campaign was relatively weak and late. People in Zurmat were reached mainly through the airwaves. With mobile phones and radios widely available, the Taleban was unable to control radio broadcasting and people were able to hear some election-related information. There was also some limited campaigning by candidates, including campaign posters, in the district’s centre of Tamir. Some candidates had used the June ceasefire which overlapped the voter registration campaign – long before the official start of the campaign – to gather people in the district governor’s compound and the new hospital that was inaugurated in during Ramazan in May-June. Young voters, in particular, seemed eager to register to vote at that time.

Several candidates were said to have distributed cash money, including US dollars, during the campaign, according to AAN sources with families in the area. Others “bought up” tazkeras, to be used for potential ballot stuffing or proxy voting, and/or to prevent people from promising and casting their vote for rival candidates. (In some cases, copies of tazkeras were taken or names and ID numbers were noted; in other cases, candidates kept the original tazkeras.) Village elders would often organise the “selling” of the tazkeras and send these people to certain candidates. The price was reportedly 2,000 Pakistani rupees (around 15 US dollars) per document.

Zurmat has a number of local candidates on the ballot, vying to represent the district in Kabul. The most prominent ones are Dr Usman, a medical doctor from Zurmat who lives in Kabul, and Sharifa Zurmati, a female candidate. She was a member of the first post-Taleban parliament in 2005, became an advisor to both presidents Hamed Karzai and Ashraf Ghani, and was also an IEC commissioner in the 2014 presidential election.

Election poster of local candidate Dr Usman Zurmati. Photo: AAN.

Polling in the first day of the election (20 October 2018)

Election Day in Paktia province started with some small arms fire in areas near Gardez, the provincial capital, presumably to scare off possible voters. Still, people in the city turned out in large numbers, as well as in parts of some districts. On the road to Zurmat’s district centre, Tamir, this scenery already changed just a few kilometres outside the city. The town is only some 40 minutes from Gardez by car. The road leading there is asphalted but in disrepair, due to years of insecurity. In Ibrahimkhel, for instance, a village with one polling centre that administratively still belongs to the provincial capital, there was sporadic firing all day. The polling centre in the village’s school was kept open during the day, but very few people came, mainly from nearby houses.

In Zurmat, 19 of the 22 scheduled polling centres remained closed. The only three polling centres that were open were in Tamir: two high schools directly in the bazaar, Habibullah Lycee and Bator Lycee, and a centre in Muqarabkhel, a short distance outside town on the road to Ibrahimkhel and Gardez. The Taleban had mined several other access roads to Tamir, and did not even allow the bazaar’s shopkeepers who live outside of town to enter. Taliban fighters were sitting in the poplar trees along the roads leading to Tamir, occasionally firing at the city. The Afghan army occasionally fired back. There seem to have been no casualties.

Voting in Tamir’s three open polling centres started around 9:30am, with only a few people coming out at first. People were wary of the security situation and wanted to see if others would be able to come out and vote without trouble. Meanwhile, the Taleban fired missiles at the district centre throughout the day (according to ocal election observers possibly as many as 50 or 60). They hit three shops, wounding one person, as well as several civilian houses, killing two children. There were also some gunshots fired in the air – but some local people thought this was the district police chief’s work, saying he was trying to scare away voters, so that only the supporters of the candidate he was rumoured to support would be able to cast their votes.

The rocket fire died down at around 2pm, so in the afternoon, more people dared to come out and vote, even from nearby villages. The three polling stations were kept open one hour longer than planned, till 5pm, and then counting started.

There were no observers from independent organisations present at the Zurmat polls, but a few dozen candidates’ agents, mainly representing candidates who expected a significant number of votes from that polling centre. During the day, there were scuffles between them. The district police chief also had some candidate agents thrown out of a polling station, reportedly because he opposed their candidates. Some candidate agents alleged that the Paktia IEC team was not neutral and that IEC members had told certain candidates that they did not have enough votes. Presumably, the candidate agents thought this indicated the IEC member’s readiness to accept money to manipulate the vote in their favour.

Although, there had been some problems with the biometric verification in Gardez – the IEC staff had not been well trained and only two devices had been used all day in the city’s main polling centre, the Gardezi high school – the devices were apparently used all day in Zurmat without major problems. As in other places, some voters in Zurmat could not find their names on the voter lists. Polling staff then opened provisional lists.

Overall turnout in Zurmat was low because of fighting and security threats. Based on observations, the author estimates that a total of around 500 votes were cast in the three polling centres in Zurmat. (1). The voters who came appeared to mainly be locally deployed soldiers, police and arbaki, the district’s administrative staff, and shopkeepers from the nearby bazaar as well as staff from the district hospital. No women were seen to vote in Zurmat. How could they – it was difficult even for men to vote.

At the end of the day, the ballot boxes and other electoral material were transported to Gardez. Although the Taleban fired at the returning convoy, they did not attack it directly and the boxes reached the IEC’s provincial office unharmed. However, before that happened, candidate agents told AAN they believed ballot stuffing took place in Tamir’s Habibullah high school, after the official closure at 5pm (till about 9pm). At the end of the day, around 2,000 votes were sent to the provincial capital from this centre. If this did occur, it should be easy to track, as, reportedly, biometric voter verification had been used there during the day.

Rohani Baba, a district on paper

Rohani Baba was formerly a part of Zurmat and is one of several new “temporary” (ie not yet fully functional) districts that have been established countrywide. It has a district governor – Abdul Rahman Solamal, who previously had the same position in Janikhel – but no official district administrative centre (DAC) yet. He is from Zurmat centre and resides there. The establishment of the district centre has been complicated by tribal disputes, mainly between the local Sahak and Mamozai tribes, regarding where the DAC should be located. (The contest over who might ‘win’ the DAC indicates that local tribes might welcome some more government presence in their area, which so far has been Taleban-controlled.) Property prices in the area have already gone up in anticipation of the changes, but so far little has happened. The district, for now, only exists on paper.

During the voter registration campaign, inhabitants from Rohani Baba came to Tamir in Zurmat to register – but under the name of the new temporary district, as the voter list published by the IEC shows. A total of 11,237 voters from Rohani Baba registered, 1844 of them were women. Local sources told AAN that there had been irregularities. Village elders reportedly came with hundreds of tazkeras that were registered and given stickers, even though their owners were not present.

The IEC had listed nine polling centres for Rohani Baba, but none of them opened. It was even unclear whether they ever really existed.

Election posters in Zurmat. Photo: AAN.

 Polling in the second day of the election (21 October 2018)

On 20 October 2018, the (IEC) announced that the polling centres in Zurmat and neighbouring Rohani Baba districts which had remained closed that day, would be opened the next day – as part of a countrywide extra day of voting for polling centres that had opened late or did not open at all (see AAN reporting). An IEC list, seen by AAN, of the 410 polling stations countrywide that were supposed to open on the second day of voting, contained all 19 polling centres from Zurmat that had remained closed on 20 October but only six (out of nine) in Rohani Baba. Three sites in Rohani Baba – two in a mosque and one in a madrassa – were missing. (AAN has reported earlier that the IEC figures and lists have often been inconsistent.)

Fears of ballot-stuffing on day two

People in Zurmat wondered how the security forces had suddenly became capable of securing these polling centres outside Tamir in one day, even though they had been unable to secure the vote in Ibrahimkhel, which was much closer to the provincial capital.

They were concerned that claims of polling sites opening in such remote unsecured areas might be used for electoral fraud, mainly for ballot stuffing, as during previous elections (AAN reports from Paktia’s 2010 elections here and here). Local election observerstold AAN that some local candidates had indeed persuaded the local IEC administration to – on paper – open between three and five centres in Zurmat, outside Tamir, (reports on numbers differed) and at least one in Rohani Baba, in Neknam village. According to the various observers AAN spoke to, there had been no actual voting at all at these sites but there was ballot stuffing on-going in private houses. It was not clear how the electoral material had reached there.  Observers told AAN that the IEC has quarantined the boxes from Neknam village with circa 400 votes, but it was not clear whether boxes including the additional votes from Zurmat have also been quarantined.

Conclusion: Only islands of voting

The general trend of an emerging rural-urban divide in voting turnout, which AAN reported after election day one on 20 October, has been confirmed in both Zurmat district and the neighbouring, Rohani Baba district. Zurmat – a district where the centre is under government control and was accessible for election workers and materiel as well as for observers – while the countryside is controlled by the Taleban with no access for voters is further proof that this divide exists not only on the provincial, but also on the district level.

The insular government presence in Zurmat centre allowed some voting, but the Taleban’s intimidation potential led to a very low level of turnout even there. It represents less than two per cent of the number of voters the IEC said had registered. Registration figures might have been doctored, but also many voters who might have genuinely registered in spring may not have gone out once the Taleban renewed their call for an election boycott on 8 October, after attempts to arrange a ceasefire covering the elections failed.

Difficult or impossible access to Zurmat and Rohani Baba also made attempts of ballot stuffing possible in rural polling centres that were on the IEC list but never opened in reality (very likely also not during voter registration), as observers’ reports showed. These reports also showed that some of those fake votes were detected and quarantined, but it is doubtful that all those ballots will be identified and cancelled – particularly as it seems that genuine ballots cast in polling centres in Zurmat’s district capital might have been topped up with night-time ballot stuffing. In this, the lack of independent observers in contested areas is a major downside.

* Pakteen Khan is a pseudonym, chosen for security reasons. The author frequently travels to Zurmat district.

 

(1) Official turnout figures or results for the districts have not been announced yet. AAN has only been able to obtain the tallies from two polling stations in Tamir’s largest polling centre, Habibullah Lycee, where 81 and 125 votes (all male) were cast, indicating that the author’ estimate is in a realistic range.