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It was mid-morning
and the valley of Maidan Shah was
full of sound and fury. Kabul, 30 miles to the north, had been captured
10 days earlier and now it seemed the Northern Alliance was set for a
big push south along the road to Kandahar, the Taliban's stronghold 300
miles away. In north Afghanistan the hardline Islamic militia had crumbled
with surprising rapidity. Now the Northern Alliance was trying to fight
in its heartland. Since early morning, rocket launchers, tanks and mortars
had been pounding the ridge lines where the Taliban fighters were dug
in. The rattle of automatic fire and a steady counterpoint from heavy
machine guns filled the air. It looked like a full-scale set-piece battle,
but in fact, as so often in Afghanistan, reality was far more complicated.
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| FALL AND FREEDOM: Retribution is bloody for
this Taliban fighter; (right below) an Afghan woman having a haircut |
As casualties mounted and trenches were captured and recaptured, negotiations
continued between Ghulam Mohammed, the Taliban commander of Maidan Shah,
and his Northern Alliance counterpart Sher Alam. After 48 hours, an uneasy
peace descended, and a new political reality emerged; not just for this
scrappy roadside town but for the country as a whole. For what happened
at Maidan Shah was about to be repeated, with a few local variations,
across much of central, eastern and southern Afghanistan. Ghulam Mohammed
had done a deal with the Northern Alliance. After he surrendered a token
tank or two, his fighters came down from their positions and embraced
their counterparts. In a matter of minutes, Ghulam Mohammed's nominal
allegiance was suddenly to Kabul, not Kandahar. Another chunk of territory
had been stripped from the Holy Warriors of Kandahar.
For
observers, the battle of Maidan Shah was an object lesson in why the Taliban
crumbled so fast. The first stage had been the rout in the north. There-in
Mazar-e-Sharif, Shibergan, Taloqan, Kunduz, the Bamiyan Valley and the
Shomali Plain-the Taliban was never going to be able to put up concerted
resistance. The Pentagon may crow about the efficacy of the Daisycutter
bomb and their Special Forces spotter teams but all those who know Afghanistan
are aware that the Taliban presence in the north was a military, cultural,
ethnic and political anomaly that was always fragile.
When the Taliban (most of its militiamen are Pashtoons from the south-west)
conquered the north in 1998, it met with little resistance. Judicious
payments to the right commanders at the right time, combined with more
than the usual infighting among the opposition, allowed the Taliban to
take the key city of Mazar-e-Sharif without much of a fight. The Panjshir
itself, despite a short-lived incursion in 1998, remained securely with
the Northern Alliance.
But the Taliban's regime in the north was built on sand. When they arrived
in Mazar-e-Sharif three years ago, the new governor of the city made his
views clear: the Shia Muslims who predominate locally were unbelievers
and worse than animals, he said. It did not endear him to the locals.
"The Taliban in the north was an occupying power and seen as such,"
said one western diplomat in Islamabad last week. "Any hold it had
in the region was entirely dependent on the goodwill and financial greed
of some local commanders. It had no hinterland." It is now clear
that the decision to try to defend the Taliban's occupied territory beyond
the Hindu Kush was the gravest strategic error made by Mullah Mohammed
Omar, the reclusive one-eyed cleric who ran the movement from Kandahar.
For months it was predicted that the Pashtoon heartlands of Afghanistan
would rise up behind the Taliban. Ethnic, religious and nationalistic
motives would combine, and the US-led coalition's campaign would bog down
in a morass of guerrilla warfare and religious extremism. "Had the
Americans come up in force against Taliban ground troops, all things may
have been different..." said one senior British army officer in London
last week. "But that wasn't the war they wanted-with good reason-and
that wasn't the war they fought. So the Taliban collapsed through its
own internal weakness."
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| FORGOTTEN JOYS: At a bathhouse (above); swinging
free |
To understand why, you have to analyse the Taliban and what it is-or
was. Though its origins are shrouded in myth, there is no doubting that
the original impulse came from a semi-retired mujahideen fighter from
Oruzgan province who was earning a poor living as a mullah in a small
village near Kandahar in 1994. Mullah Omar and a small band of followers
gathered their forces and set about cleaning up their neighbourhood. From
those small ambitions and beginnings, the Taliban was born.
Over the next seven years, a body of ideologically aligned fellow travellers
coalesced around the core group in Kandahar. At first these were Afghans
attracted by Mullah Omar's message and his personal charisma. Soon they
were joined by a strong Pakistani contingent-the madarsa nexus, which
brought thousands to their fold. Lately, Al Qaida elements began to build
a stronger presence. Osama bin Laden himself and his chief ideologue Ayman
al-Zawahiri became more influential and their fighters more militarily
significant.
But most important of all were the hundreds of local Afghan warlords
who decided that the clever choice was to join the Taliban, or at least
not to resist it. And this is where the almost feudal nature of Afghan
politics played into the Islamic milita's hands. "A good leader (in
Afghanistan) looks after his fighters. That means not getting them killed
and keeping them sweet with handouts so they are loyal to him," explained
Sher Abdullah, a former Taliban commander in Jalalabad last month. "That
means being on the winning side."
As the Taliban began its drive across Afghanistan, scores of local commanders
made their calculations-and suddenly became Mullah Omar's men. By last
September, the Taliban had a fighting strength of around 50,000 (including
foreign fighters numbering 5,000), large stocks of ammunition, fuel, weapons,
and several hundred tanks and armoured personnel carriers. But it was
all for nothing. For what allowed the Taliban to spread so quickly, allowed
them to fall apart even faster.
| The decision to defend the territory beyond the
Hindu Kush was Omar's gravest error. |
The collapse was in spite of the hard core, not because of it. Mullah
Omar is now a fugitive and his close associates have not surrendered.
The Pakistanis and other foreigners fought on after the Taliban pulled
out from the north voluntarily. The men who held out for some time in
the eastern cave complex of Tora Bora, where bin Laden is believed to
be sheltering, were certainly in no mood to surrender, and of the 2,000
Pakistanis who entered Afghanistan from Malakand, 1,100 are unaccounted
for-either in prison or dead. What basically caused the collapse of the
Taliban was the failure of support in the Afghan countryside as a whole.
President George W. Bush's idea was to drain the swamp that aids terrorists.
This swamp spat them out voluntarily.
That happened even though the Taliban was welcome when it first took
over many cities because it brought order. Basically the Taliban was defeated-like
every other power that overreaches itself in Afghanistan-by the traditional
structure of Afghan rural society. The Taliban was never more than a superimposition
on the social structure in rural areas, on the local ruling councils,
shuras, on hierarchies established over centuries. The primacy of the
mullah-the foundation of Taliban rule-was always an anomaly and a reversion
to earlier hierarchies favouring the malik or the syed or the alim (religious
scholar) an inevitability. Couple that with the traditional mendacity
and venality of your average post-Soviet era Afghan warlord-the other
pole of local power-and, once its back was to the wall, the Taliban never
stood a chance.
Some things might have staved off collapse. Much depended on money and
the Taliban received a lot in its early days from Saudi Arabia, bin Laden
and Pakistan. It also received substantial military support from Pakistan.
But the changes in the regional geopolitical map in the past three months
left the Taliban high and dry. The conjunction of regional factors that
had facilitated its emergence had disappeared.
For the moment, the Taliban is effectively gone. It is, however, far
from forgotten. In Pakistan, former Taliban ministers and officials have
formed a new party, a Taliban Mk 2. What exactly their intentions are
is not clear yet.
(The author is the chief reporter of The Observer,
London, and was its South Asia correspondent from 1998
to 2000.)
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