arch/ive/ief (2000 - 2005)

Mujahideen back to 'rob and beat us'
http://www.observer.co.uk/afghanistan/story/0,1501,596815,00.html
War in Afghanistan: Observer special

Jason Burke in Jalalabad
Sunday November 18, 2001
The Observer

Dawn in Jalalabad and in scores of dirty rooms and courtyards across the city the Mujahideen are getting ready for the weekend. A dull murmur of conversation, the crackle of the cooking fires and the clink and rattle of weaponry - Kalashnikovs, rocket-propelled grenades and heavy machine guns - fills the air. The guns are slung over the men's shoulders with a mixture of bravado and boredom.
Soon they will fan out across the city. Some will career through the narrow, dusty roads in souped-up pick-up trucks; others will throng the bazaars or squat in groups at street corners, each band eyeing the others like wary dogs over the grey muzzles of their weapons.

Others are watching Jalalabad closely too. The city was given up by the Taliban early last week. With the last of their troops - and their Arab extremist allies - leaving on Wednesday night, by Thursday groups of armed men, led by the commanders who had run the region before the coming of the hardline Islamic militia, had taken their place.

Analysts in London, Washington and Islamabad know that, if a post-Taliban set-up is to work anywhere, it must work here. But, despite the good intentions of the United Nations and the US-led coalition, there is little sign that the return of the Mujahideen will bring freedom and prosperity to the people of this city. Five years ago, these same men brought chaos and violence. Now the fear is they are bringing it again.

The locals are watching developments with fear and resignation. 'I am sick when I see what is happening. There is no discipline here. There is no police, no army, no government. Everyone has a Kalashnikov,' said Rehmat Ali Khan, a spice trader in Jalalabad's once busy bazaar.

One sign of the deteriorating situation is that the infamous partaks or checkpoints, that made travel so difficult in the years between the collapse of the Soviet-backed regime in 1992 and the coming of the Taliban to eastern Afghanistan in 1996, are returning.

Out on the roads - to Pakistan 50 miles away to the east, to Kabul 90 miles to the west - sharp-eyed and sharp-fingered gunmen man chains stretched across the potholed tarmac. A week ago such posts did not exist. There are already reports of looting and passing journalists' vehicles have been fired on.

The Mujahideen are determined to make the most of their opportunity. 'When there is a big victory it is right that everybody should share in it,' said Haziullah, a 28-year-old manning one of the roadblocks on the outskirts of the city. 'We have been waiting a long time for this.'

But distributing the spoils is a vexed business. Within 24 hours of the Taliban retreating, six different commanders had led their fighters into the city. On Friday, in the palatial high-ceilinged rooms of the governor's house, they sat down to talk, but with little result. Yesterday, after 36 hours of volatile discussions, a jirga or traditional council, including 100 different groups had reached a fragile agreement. This came after a night so tense that a curfew had been imposed and armed guards with rocket launchers had been posted outside hotels. As expected, the man heading the new administration is Haji Abdul Qadir. He is the brother of Abdul Haq - the opposition leader killed in a disastrous bid to spark a revolt within Taliban territory three weeks ago.

Qadir, who arrived in Jalalabad in a helicopter on Thursday, was governor of the rich Nangarhar province, which lies around the city, until he was ousted by the Taliban on 10 September 1996.

But there is no shortage of contenders hungry for power, including Qazi Amin Wiqad, a hardline Islamist with close ties to the Taliban. Another of the commanders vying for power was actually fighting for the Taliban until last week. Though none is strong enough to unseat Qadir alone, they could probably defeat him if they joined forces. For the moment, an uneasy calm has descended on the city, but few expect it to last.

Almost all these men are remembered for the chaotic anarchy of the 1992-96 period.

'Thank you Britain and America for allowing these men to come back and rob and beat us again,' one refugee shouted at The Observer as he drove slowly back into Jalalabad on Friday.

Others openly confess their Taliban sympathies.

'They followed Islamic law and that is the only way to resist America's tyranny,' said Waly Yad, 24, a doctor at Jalalabad's filthy and battered hospital where more than 300 civilian victims of the US-led bombing raids have been treated in the last two months. 'Osama is a very good Muslim. This is all wrong now.'

Even those who might rejoice at the ending of Taliban rule are worried. Fatima, a 36-year-old teacher, said she was 'too scared' to celebrate. 'How can we be happy when things are so uncertain. Does this look like peace? We have not seen so many soldiers in Jalalabad for five years.'

The only signs of change are the overt playing of music and the return of televisions to restaurants. There is no sign of women forsaking the burqa - the traditional all-encompassing veil that the Taliban imposed.

'I am not going to walk unveiled through a city full of soldiers where there is no police force,' Fatima said.

All the fighters in Jalalabad are from the Pashtun tribes who are the majority in this part of Afghanistan. While the Tajik, Uzbek and Shia Muslim Hazara fighters can easily hold on to the more ethnically mixed parts of the country, it would be impossible for them to capture Jalalabad and the surrounding provinces. So it is up to Abdul Qadir and the others - all ethnic Pashtuns - to create a stable administration.

Once they have done that, they will look for a national role. Yesterday, Mohamed Zarman, from the jirga, said they would not tolerate Northern Alliance rule in Kabul and called for a broad-based government that would include all ethnic groups. For almost all of Afghanistan's recent political history a Pashtun has ruled the nation from Kabul. Now the Pashtun tribes - who comprise almost half the population - have no representation in the capital at all.

At present however all anyone is thinking about is getting through the next 48 hours without a major outbreak of violence between the factions in the city.

'We have suffered so much in recent years we cannot suffer any more,' said Amin Gul, the father of a teenager being treated for blast wounds in Jalalabad hospital. 'Afghanistan has run out of everything except suffering.'