Talmiz Ahmad
The Wire
Aug 15, 2024
An intrepid reporter’s first-hand account of the debacle next door.
August 15, 2024 marks the third anniversary of the Taliban’s entry into Kabul
After having dominated global headlines for over four decades, Afghanistan now evokes very little interest among international commentators. It is as if the international community is now hanging its head in guilt and shame for having allowed the battles between major powers to devastate this ancient land and enable some of the world’s most violent and vicious groups to control these territories. Now, three years after the Taliban marched unopposed into Kabul, Human Rights Watch (HRW) has said that the country remains mired in a human rights crisis and, mutedly and futilely, gives a call for action.
Nayanima Basu,
The Fall of Kabul: Despatches from Chaos,
Bloomsbury (2024)
Three years ago, a courageous Indian lady journalist with a passion for foreign affairs and first-hand reporting, Nayanima Basu, landed in Kabul to cover the turbulent events in the country then witnessing the crushing defeat of American armed forces and awaiting, with trepidation, the triumphant entry of the Taliban into the capital.
This book gives an eye-witness account of Basu’s first impressions of the city as it awaited arrival of the Taliban forces, her visit to Mazar-i-Sharif a day before it fell, her short but important interview with former Prime Minster Gulbuddin Hekmatyar, the day – August 15, 2021 – when the Taliban took over Kabul without the Afghan army putting up any resistance, and her final departure from Kabul airport in very traumatic circumstances. The book has a 60-page “Epilogue” that discusses Afghan politics, its social and economic situation and the role of foreign powers in that ruined state under Taliban rule.
Though describing events three years ago, Basu’s account has a remarkable freshness and immediacy. As she prepares to leave for Kabul, she recalls the killing of the creative and courageous Indian photographer, Danish Siddiqui, at the hands of the Taliban, and wonders if the same fate could befall her. But the fervour of the journalist makes her shrug off this apprehension, take her flight, and reach Kabul armed with her reporting enthusiasm.
The atmosphere is tense and expectant – but no-one seems to know what will actually happen. The India embassy tells her that the Ashraf Ghani government will remain in place on the basis of a power-sharing deal finalised in Doha, an assessment that surprises her. She fears that the Indian government “was clearly unaware of the ground realities and failed to see the inevitable”.
Some believe that the Taliban will come to Kabul, but there will be no repeat of what happened during its rule in 1996-2001; this is a changed entity, they confidently assert. Twenty years of US occupation, they think, has created a “new Afghanistan”, one “where women and men were bold, beautiful and hard-working, knew what they wanted and whom they wanted to rule over them”. They would ensure that the Taliban would provide the country with a democratic government. How wrong they were!
Basu has a poignant encounter with an Afghan artist who paints the natural beauty of his country, images of soldiers and war, and, most often, pictures of the actor Shahrukh Khan, particularly his “dimpled smile”. The artist wistfully points out that “nothing would be new in Afghanistan” and it will remain the world’s favourite battleground. He tells Basu he expects to be killed by the Taliban, but his paintings will remain to celebrate the beauty and peace of his country.
At Mazar-i-Sharif, she marvels at the beauty of the Blue Mosque, a historic shrine dedicated to Hazrat Ali, the cousin and son-in-law of Prophet Mohammed. The imams at the mosque play down the threat from the Taliban and recall the depredations to which Afghanistan has been subjected over two centuries at the hands of the British, the Russians and the Americans. “Let the Taliban have their chance,” one of them says.
But the journalist in Basu remained alive: when she received a call from a “heavy masculine voice”, she dreaded the Taliban had taken over her hotel; but her next thought was to do a quick interview with the person!
Amidst the portends of conflict, Basu had many joyful encounters – one young soldier who eagerly wanted to see the Taj Mahal in India, while another wanted his mother to see him in his American-style uniform and fancy goggles. She notes soberly that the Taliban entered Mazar-i-Sharif a day later and many of the cheerful soldiers had most likely died in the ensuing battles.
On August 15, three years ago, Basu had an extraordinary encounter with Hekmatyar, the legendary “Butcher of Kabul”, who, after the Soviet withdrawal in 1989, had bombarded Kabul to crush all opposition to his personal rule over the country. Perhaps the only Indian journalist to interview this hate-figure, Basu instead noted his “gentle and polite demeanour”. In the conversation, he criticised the Americans for failing to back the anti-Taliban forces in the country (like himself) and investing in unpopular figures, like the incumbent president, Ashraf Ghani. To compound these follies, they had decided to leave abruptly, handing over the country to the Taliban.
However, this interview was dramatically interrupted by the news that the Taliban had entered Kabul; Hekmatyar was swiftly spirited away, while Basu found herself on the streets and surrounded by total chaos, as the capital braced itself for anarchy and violence. She describes her slow trudge to her hotel in tense and gripping prose, saving herself by asserting her Indian identity and personal familiarity with Shahrukh Khan.
The best piece of writing in the book is Basu’s description of Kabul in the grip of the Taliban and her efforts to reach the Indian embassy and then the airport for the journey back to India. Afghanistan was abandoned by the president, his ministers and the armed forces. None of them wanted a repeat of what had befallen former president Najibullah when he was tortured and killed by the Taliban after his capture from the UN compound in 1996 and his body was hung from a lamp post for several days.
She describes scenes of thousands of Afghan men, women and children thronging the airport to escape the wrath of the new occupiers of their capital, of numerous instances of them being beating by the Taliban and even shot by their tormentors. Amidst this chaos and fear, Basu got help from unknown figures who came out of the shadows to protect her and then disappeared into the crowds. She also often distractedly wondered why “everything looked blurry”, when “nothing seemed right or wrong, true or false”. She saw through the mayhem and concluded: “Afghanistan was slipping from the hands of time,” as its people were being callously abused and abandoned.
The “Epilogue” provides an excellent summary of Taliban rule over the last three years. No, there has been no “new Afghanistan”, and, yes, the Taliban have lived up to the worst expectations. Their rule has been particularly harsh for women: they are denied education beyond the sixth grade; employment is restricted, and they are subjected to frequent gender-based violence, as HRW has noted in its latest report.
But many other expectations have gone awry – Pakistan had believed it would be an influential player in Afghanistan, as exemplified by the public swagger in Kabul of the then ISI chief, Lt. General Faiz Hamid, a few weeks after the takeover. Since then, it is clear that Pakistan has gained nothing from its investment in the Afghan insurgency since 2002; indeed, some Taliban factions, such as the Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan, are actively hostile.
No country formally recognises the Taliban administration, but several maintain diplomatic presence, many at ambassador-level. These include: China, Russia, Qatar, Turkmenistan, Tajikistan and Uzbekistan, with most looking for economic benefits from the country’s natural resources and logistical connectivity projects due to its pivotal geographical location. But the economic situation remains dire: foreign assistance has almost dried up, causing job losses and trade collapse. The HRW has said that more than half the population – about 23 million – faces food insecurity.
Though it seems that the world has abandoned Afghanistan, Basu’s book, a combination of travel diary and astute observation and comment, is a timely account of the travails of our neighbour. It has had multiple calamities visited upon it as distant world powers have asserted their interests on its geographical space – unwanted and unsolicited. It reminds us that we still have crucial and abiding interests in that country and, amidst the ongoing imbroglio in Bangladesh, there is an urgent need for us to take a fresh look at our policy approach to our neighbourhood.
But Basu has done more. In an environment in which India’s mainstream media largely fails to reflect national concerns and aspirations, she reminds us that we still have journalists, passionate about their profession, who can meet the highest standards of reporting and commentary in these trying times.
Talmiz Ahmad is a former diplomat.