afghanistan: fear, disillusion, and despair:
In the seventh year after the fall of the first incarnation of the Taliban, two Afghanistans exist. The first is defined by international effort in the country - civil and military - whose story is told in battles won and reconstruction projects brought successfully to fruition. It is largely told through the prism of foreigners, diplomats and soldiers, British, Canadian and American. It emphasises good news, most recently a claim - that would surprise Afghans - that foreign forces were ‘routing’ the Taliban. The other Afghanistan is largely ignored. This has 30 million people in whose name the war is being fought. Its themes are disappointment, bitterness and pessimism: a conviction that the vast intervention to rebuild the world’s fourth poorest country has benefited only a small handful, and Afghanistan is heading for a new crisis. As even some Western diplomats are beginning to acknowledge, the prevailing fear is that the war is in danger not of being lost or won in Helmand province, but in the perceptions of Afghans.
(...) What optimism that there was after the fall of the Taliban has largely dissipated. With 40 per cent unemployment, and faced with drought, rocketing food prices and vast amounts of aid money squandered, the international community’s promises to transform Afghanistan - six years on - ring increasingly hollow.
(...) The accumulating crisis is building around both the failure of governance and the Taliban’s renewed insurgency. Despite national elections in 2004 and 2005, democracy has failed to gain any real traction. Karzai’s Western-backed government, in trying to buy off rival warlords and factions who were once powerful, has created a charmed inner circle. The warlords have found themselves new jobs in the Interior Ministry or police, where they continue to protect drug traffickers. Some of those accused are among Karzai’s closest associates - including his brother Wali. When asked, the unemployed who gather at the roundabouts, the tribal leaders, and the women activists, the journalists and the housewives list the same complaints. Karzai, they say, is ‘weak’. Security is disintegrating. His cabinet is corrupt, the country is in danger again of descending into warlordism.
(...) A UN ‘accessibility’ map shows a very different picture from the official one: a nation sliced in two, much of it hostile for aid workers. Where it is red - classified ‘extreme’ - is where the opium poppies are. Much of the south is red. In the centre of this zone is Kandahar, the Taliban’s first capital in the south. At first glance it seems much like Kabul, a bustling and busy place. Small groups of men pray on the rooftop mosques, silhouetted against the sky. But Kandahar’s differences exist in a hidden geography, in such places as Loyah Wallah, the ‘Big Canal’ district, towards the city university where the Taliban discreetly hold sway. Officially the government says it controls the city. But local people tell a different story. And what people only fear in Kabul, in Kandahar exists as reality.
(...) It is left to a lorry driver from Lashkar Gah to say: ‘There are no jobs.’ And he complains that there is too little security despite the British base. ‘We are all thinking about who will be the next ruler of Afghanistan. If foreign troops go, the Taliban will come. Then there will be resistance and chaos, like there was before. For now there is no peace, no security, no central government. During the time of the Taliban I was left in peace. ‘There is an old Pashto proverb,’ he adds ruefully. ‘The old thieves were better than the new.’