M WAQAR..... "A man's ethical behavior should be based effectually on sympathy, education, and social ties; no religious basis is necessary.Man would indeed be in a poor way if he had to be restrained by fear of punishment and hope of reward after death." --Albert Einstein !!! NEWS,ARTICLES,EDITORIALS,MUSIC... Ze chi pe mayeen yum da agha pukhtunistan de.....(Liberal,Progressive,Secular World.)''Secularism is not against religion; it is the message of humanity.'' تل ده وی پثتونستآن
Saturday, August 14, 2021
I recently worked in Kabul and weep for all my Afghan friends, who we’re abandoning to their deaths. Here’s why our mission failed
Kevin Hurley is a former senior police officer and reservist army officer. He has completed two tours in Iraq and two in Afghanistan working on security sector reform. He now specialises in advising on policing and security development in fractured nations.
Afghanistan’s falling apart again and the Taliban’s on the brink of victory, as I predicted. So, why did the 20-year US-led occupation fail? Because it refused to tackle the rampant corruption that pervades all echelons of power.
Knowing that in less than three hours, you will be in Kabul, the most dangerous capital city in the world, makes boarding the pristine Emirates flight from Dubai a surreal experience. This spring I did just that, as I went to join the United Nations Development Programme mission in Afghanistan as its expert advisor on policing and security.
I knew what to expect. I’d spent a year there, before Covid broke out, as a senior adviser for policing, working directly with the Afghan government and senior NATO commanders. I even advised the US’s four-star commanding general, the Afghan minister of the interior and the chief of police. During that time, I saw at first hand why America and the West’s mission in the country was doomed to fail, despite the spending of two trillion dollars and the best efforts of hundreds of thousands of brave, clever, passionate soldiers and civilians, many now dead or maimed. The attempts of the international community to resist the Taliban and Islamic State Khorasan (IS-K), IS’s even nastier offshoot in the country, fell foul of the landscape of insurgencies, terrorism and ever-shifting political and tribal allegiances. But its main killer was the Big C: corruption. My flight this May, like so many before, still had some Afghan ‘businessmen’ returning with empty attaché cases that once held US dollars sent to be laundered in the Emirates, as well as many tough-looking bearded Western men in khaki chinos and adventure jackets, their eyes veiled under baseball caps. These were the contractors who come from all over the world to try to make a difference or chase the big money or both, just like me. The US’s and NATO’s wars, occupations and counter-terrorism operations are a lucrative business. These men work in every field, doing virtually everything needed to keep the Western involvement going. Among them are IT consultants, aerospace engineers maintaining the Afghan air force, firefighters crewing the airport crash tenders and, of course, the countless armed bodyguards working for embassies, commercial organisations and NGOs. By March, it was already clear that the Taliban was breaking the peace agreement it had made with the Trump administration – a deal done without the US having consulted with the Afghan government or listened to NATO allies. I knew from past experience that, as we came into land at Kabul, I would get a sense of foreboding, like a finger pressing hard into the back of my neck, reminding me that we were about to enter an extremely hazardous place, and that this apprehension would pervade everything and would not lift until I was on the flight out of there. After all, from the moment you land at Hamid Karzai International Airport, you are ‘in play’. As your aircraft taxis past the Afghan air force and NATO fighters on the north side of the runway, rockets or mortars could come screaming down, spraying razor-sharp splinters of jagged steel. Or that uniformed policeman could turn his gun on you in one of the notorious and frequent ‘green-on-blue’ attacks. The size of the military investment in the country is easy to see, with rows of Afghan military helicopters and light ground-attack planes filling my window, only to be replaced by the chattering Chinooks, Blackhawk and Puma helicopters of the NATO forces as they go about their daily bus services ferrying diplomats, soldiers, NATO civilians and letters to protected bases in other parts of the city. It’s far too dangerous to travel by road. Just a few short months later and they are nearly all gone, along with all the US and NATO troops. To avoid being shot at, the choppers were taken away by stealth overnight, packed into huge C-17 military transports or hired Russian-built Antonov freighter aircraft, rotor blades folded, ready to be used in some other conflict. As for the Afghan helicopters and light-attack fighters parked by the runway, quite a few have simply stopped flying. That’s partly because some of the Afghan pilots have given up and partly because the number of US contractors who maintained them has been greatly reduced. The men with beards and baseball caps know when the party’s over and it’s time to move on. Passing through passport control, one’s apprehension grows. A suicide bomber could detonate him- or herself as you collect your baggage, rockets could hit the terminal building, you could be kidnapped as you walk into the car park looking for your transport, or a car bomb could blow up as you pass by. Finding my transport that day – two white UN-marked armoured Toyota Land Cruisers driven by two local employees – was unnerving. Would I be able to locate them? When I did, could I trust them not to kidnap me and sell me to terrorists, cashing in an insurance policy as the country was starting to fall apart? I was reassured to find both my new colleagues were like so many of the quietly humble, brave, clever Afghan people who have worked with the international community since we have been there. My driver, Abdul, a family man with four children, could not have been more welcoming. As we drove the five miles to our huge, protected compound, he told me about his family and offered to buy me fresh fruit and – since my suitcase had been mislaid in transit – clothes at the local market. Although I’d been in war zones in Iraq and Afghanistan before, his chatter eased some but not all my concerns. I scanned anyone I saw on a motorbike to see if they were going to attach a magnetic improvised explosive device to our roof to defeat the armour-plated sides of the car. My research had told me this was the latest weapon of choice in this city, which is one that bristles with every conceivable means of inflicting death. Derelict and abandoned, once-fortified NATO or Western commercial-company bases were scattered all along our route, and I wondered which might be home to a rocket-launcher looking for a target. Arriving at the UN compound at last, I cast an experienced eye over the fortifications and security guards. I was reassured that they were sound. I even smiled a wry smile when I saw there was a large protection team made up of former Gurkha soldiers – fearsome warriors with a smile for their friends, and a kukri (their standard-issue bladed weapon) for their enemies. I hoped that, working with the UN, I might be able to help to improve things and, of course, make some money into the bargain. The place and staff certainly seemed well set up, with plenty of dedicated professional people from all over the world supported by many locals such as my drivers – all well-educated and capable Afghans. Little did I know that, within weeks, the new US president would pull the rug from under the whole international edifice by unilaterally withdrawing his troops, as allied nations rushed to scuttle out with them. In truth, I don’t blame them. As most of us predicted, the Taliban have since seized on this retreat and are now maximising their opportunity to grab cities and towns – Kabul too, most likely – before the freezing winter makes fighting too difficult. Assassinations of public officials and attacks on power supplies reinforce the impending threat to the capital. Meanwhile, IS-K carries on killing or bombing pretty much anyone it pleases, organised crime in all its forms is flourishing, and kidnappings are rife. The Afghan government, while putting up a front of resistance rhetoric, is in disarray. The president is reacting like many despots before him: firing and replacing ministers, generals and police chiefs in a desperate bid to blame others for the debacle and retain some semblance of power. His army and police, who are really used as light infantry soldiers, are deserting in droves. You cannot blame them; thousands have not been paid for months.
I knew what to expect. I’d spent a year there, before Covid broke out, as a senior adviser for policing, working directly with the Afghan government and senior NATO commanders. I even advised the US’s four-star commanding general, the Afghan minister of the interior and the chief of police. During that time, I saw at first hand why America and the West’s mission in the country was doomed to fail, despite the spending of two trillion dollars and the best efforts of hundreds of thousands of brave, clever, passionate soldiers and civilians, many now dead or maimed. The attempts of the international community to resist the Taliban and Islamic State Khorasan (IS-K), IS’s even nastier offshoot in the country, fell foul of the landscape of insurgencies, terrorism and ever-shifting political and tribal allegiances. But its main killer was the Big C: corruption. My flight this May, like so many before, still had some Afghan ‘businessmen’ returning with empty attaché cases that once held US dollars sent to be laundered in the Emirates, as well as many tough-looking bearded Western men in khaki chinos and adventure jackets, their eyes veiled under baseball caps. These were the contractors who come from all over the world to try to make a difference or chase the big money or both, just like me. The US’s and NATO’s wars, occupations and counter-terrorism operations are a lucrative business. These men work in every field, doing virtually everything needed to keep the Western involvement going. Among them are IT consultants, aerospace engineers maintaining the Afghan air force, firefighters crewing the airport crash tenders and, of course, the countless armed bodyguards working for embassies, commercial organisations and NGOs. By March, it was already clear that the Taliban was breaking the peace agreement it had made with the Trump administration – a deal done without the US having consulted with the Afghan government or listened to NATO allies. I knew from past experience that, as we came into land at Kabul, I would get a sense of foreboding, like a finger pressing hard into the back of my neck, reminding me that we were about to enter an extremely hazardous place, and that this apprehension would pervade everything and would not lift until I was on the flight out of there. After all, from the moment you land at Hamid Karzai International Airport, you are ‘in play’. As your aircraft taxis past the Afghan air force and NATO fighters on the north side of the runway, rockets or mortars could come screaming down, spraying razor-sharp splinters of jagged steel. Or that uniformed policeman could turn his gun on you in one of the notorious and frequent ‘green-on-blue’ attacks. The size of the military investment in the country is easy to see, with rows of Afghan military helicopters and light ground-attack planes filling my window, only to be replaced by the chattering Chinooks, Blackhawk and Puma helicopters of the NATO forces as they go about their daily bus services ferrying diplomats, soldiers, NATO civilians and letters to protected bases in other parts of the city. It’s far too dangerous to travel by road. Just a few short months later and they are nearly all gone, along with all the US and NATO troops. To avoid being shot at, the choppers were taken away by stealth overnight, packed into huge C-17 military transports or hired Russian-built Antonov freighter aircraft, rotor blades folded, ready to be used in some other conflict. As for the Afghan helicopters and light-attack fighters parked by the runway, quite a few have simply stopped flying. That’s partly because some of the Afghan pilots have given up and partly because the number of US contractors who maintained them has been greatly reduced. The men with beards and baseball caps know when the party’s over and it’s time to move on. Passing through passport control, one’s apprehension grows. A suicide bomber could detonate him- or herself as you collect your baggage, rockets could hit the terminal building, you could be kidnapped as you walk into the car park looking for your transport, or a car bomb could blow up as you pass by. Finding my transport that day – two white UN-marked armoured Toyota Land Cruisers driven by two local employees – was unnerving. Would I be able to locate them? When I did, could I trust them not to kidnap me and sell me to terrorists, cashing in an insurance policy as the country was starting to fall apart? I was reassured to find both my new colleagues were like so many of the quietly humble, brave, clever Afghan people who have worked with the international community since we have been there. My driver, Abdul, a family man with four children, could not have been more welcoming. As we drove the five miles to our huge, protected compound, he told me about his family and offered to buy me fresh fruit and – since my suitcase had been mislaid in transit – clothes at the local market. Although I’d been in war zones in Iraq and Afghanistan before, his chatter eased some but not all my concerns. I scanned anyone I saw on a motorbike to see if they were going to attach a magnetic improvised explosive device to our roof to defeat the armour-plated sides of the car. My research had told me this was the latest weapon of choice in this city, which is one that bristles with every conceivable means of inflicting death. Derelict and abandoned, once-fortified NATO or Western commercial-company bases were scattered all along our route, and I wondered which might be home to a rocket-launcher looking for a target. Arriving at the UN compound at last, I cast an experienced eye over the fortifications and security guards. I was reassured that they were sound. I even smiled a wry smile when I saw there was a large protection team made up of former Gurkha soldiers – fearsome warriors with a smile for their friends, and a kukri (their standard-issue bladed weapon) for their enemies. I hoped that, working with the UN, I might be able to help to improve things and, of course, make some money into the bargain. The place and staff certainly seemed well set up, with plenty of dedicated professional people from all over the world supported by many locals such as my drivers – all well-educated and capable Afghans. Little did I know that, within weeks, the new US president would pull the rug from under the whole international edifice by unilaterally withdrawing his troops, as allied nations rushed to scuttle out with them. In truth, I don’t blame them. As most of us predicted, the Taliban have since seized on this retreat and are now maximising their opportunity to grab cities and towns – Kabul too, most likely – before the freezing winter makes fighting too difficult. Assassinations of public officials and attacks on power supplies reinforce the impending threat to the capital. Meanwhile, IS-K carries on killing or bombing pretty much anyone it pleases, organised crime in all its forms is flourishing, and kidnappings are rife. The Afghan government, while putting up a front of resistance rhetoric, is in disarray. The president is reacting like many despots before him: firing and replacing ministers, generals and police chiefs in a desperate bid to blame others for the debacle and retain some semblance of power. His army and police, who are really used as light infantry soldiers, are deserting in droves. You cannot blame them; thousands have not been paid for months.
The money donated by the international community for their salaries continues to be stolen by their corrupt political, army and police bosses. It’s been going on for years. We all knew about it, but did nothing effective to stop it. The political will was not there. Better to say nothing to avoid embarrassing donor governments. Perhaps that tells you why Afghanistan is going the way it is so fast.
Virtually everything the donors have tried to fund – from hospitals to schools to fire engines to police uniforms – gets stolen or misused by the people in power. The very people who now are fleeing the mess to live in apartments or houses bought in Ankara, Istanbul, Dubai, Virginia or Southern California with stolen international donations. I recall an FBI financial crime specialist colleague telling me how dishonest Afghan public officials were laundering the monies meant for the people of Afghanistan through banks in the United Arab Emirates and the British Channel Isles.
Meanwhile, the praetorian guards of this failing government, the Afghan special forces and commandos, continue to fight increasingly bitter battles against the Taliban with failing air support, and try desperately to hold or recover terrain lost by their regular army colleagues or the police as they desert. They do so in the certainty that, if captured, they will be murdered. These very capable troops, trained and now deserted by NATO, have nowhere to go. Just like the South Vietnamese marines and rangers in 1975, their fate is to fight to the death. They have no other choice.
Around the country, various warlords are resurrecting themselves, alongside organised narco-criminals, to protect their own enclaves and wealth. Tribal leaders are making security deals with others. In Afghanistan, it is ever thus.
The future for ordinary Afghan people – the women and children who have gained so much in terms of basic human rights, especially in the cities – looks grim.
What we are seeing now is almost straight out of the playbook we saw unfold back in Vietnam. Who can forget the pictures of the US Embassy in Saigon as people scrambled to get onto helicopters to escape to the aircraft carriers waiting offshore. This time, in Afghanistan, there are no ships waiting. The sea is too far away in this landlocked ‘graveyard of the empires’.
As for the next Western international military intervention, if there is one, I have one piece of advice. It is the same that doubtless many hundreds, if not thousands, of specialists like me have given as they tried to tell truth to power: read the manuals and theses on countering insurgency before you start on your adventure. There are thousands of them to be found in every military academy and university in the US, UK, Europe and beyond.
They all say one thing: the human terrain is the vital ground to capture and military methods are rarely decisive. They all ought to say, as well: Don’t back a corrupt government or you’ll lose.
May the Lord help the people, especially the women, of Afghanistan now.
https://www.rt.com/op-ed/532036-kabul-afghanistan-taliban-fail/
Taliban Sweep in Afghanistan Follows Years of U.S. Miscalculations
By David E. Sanger and Helene Cooper
An Afghan military that did not believe in itself and a U.S. effort that Mr. Biden, and most Americans, no longer believed in brought an ignoble end to America’s longest war.President Biden’s top advisers concede they were stunned by the rapid collapse of the Afghan army in the face of an aggressive, well-planned offensive by the Taliban that now threatens Kabul, Afghanistan’s capital. The past 20 years show they should not have been. If there is a consistent theme over two decades of war in Afghanistan, it is the overestimation of the results of the $83 billion the United States has spent since 2001 training and equipping the Afghan security forces and an underestimation of the brutal, wily strategy of the Taliban. The Pentagon had issued dire warnings to Mr. Biden even before he took office about the potential for the Taliban to overrun the Afghan army, but intelligence estimates, now shown to have badly missed the mark, assessed it might happen in 18 months, not weeks. Commanders did know that the afflictions of the Afghan forces had never been cured: the deep corruption, the failure by the government to pay many Afghan soldiers and police officers for months, the defections, the soldiers sent to the front without adequate food and water, let alone arms. In the past several days, the Afghan forces have steadily collapsed as they battled to defend ever shrinking territory, losing Mazar-i-Sharif, the country’s economic engine, to the Taliban on Saturday. Mr. Biden’s aides say that the persistence of those problems reinforced his belief that the United States could not prop up the Afghan government and military in perpetuity. In Oval Office meetings this spring, he told aides that staying another year, or even five, would not make a substantial difference and was not worth the risks. In the end, an Afghan force that did not believe in itself and a U.S. effort that Mr. Biden, and most Americans, no longer believed would alter the course of events combined to bring an ignoble close to America’s longest war. The United States kept forces in Afghanistan far longer than the British did in the 19th century, and twice as long as the Soviets — with roughly the same results. For Mr. Biden, the last of four American presidents to face painful choices in Afghanistan but the first to get out, the debate about a final withdrawal and the miscalculations over how to execute it began the moment he took office. “Under Trump, we were one tweet away from complete, precipitous withdrawal,” said Douglas E. Lute, a retired general who directed Afghan strategy at the National Security Council for Presidents George W. Bush and Barack Obama. “Under Biden, it was clear to everyone who knew him, who saw him pressing for a vastly reduced force more than a decade ago, that he was determined to end U.S. military involvement,” he added, “but the Pentagon believed its own narrative that we would stay forever.” “The puzzle for me is the absence of contingency planning: If everyone knew we were headed for the exits, why did we not have a plan over the past two years for making this work?” A Skeptical President
From the moment that news outlets called Pennsylvania for Mr. Biden on Nov. 7, making him the next commander in chief for 1.4 million active-duty troops, Pentagon officials knew they would face an uphill battle to stop a withdrawal of American forces from Afghanistan. Defense Department leaders had already been fending off Mr. Biden’s predecessor, Donald J. Trump, who wanted a rapid drawdown. In one Twitter post last year, he declared all American troops would be out by that Christmas.And while they had publicly voiced support for the agreement Mr. Trump reached with the Taliban in February 2020 for a complete withdrawal this May, Pentagon officials said they wanted to talk Mr. Biden out of it. After Mr. Biden took office, top Defense Department officials began a lobbying campaign to keep a small counterterrorism force in Afghanistan for a few more years. They told the president that the Taliban had grown stronger under Mr. Trump than at any point in the past two decades and pointed to intelligence estimates predicting that in two or three years, Al Qaeda could find a new foothold in Afghanistan. Shortly after Lloyd J. Austin III was sworn in as defense secretary on Jan. 22, he and Gen. Mark A. Milley, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, recommended to Mr. Biden that 3,000 to 4,500 troops stay in Afghanistan, nearly double the 2,500 troops there. On Feb. 3, a congressionally appointed panel led by a retired four-star Marine general, Joseph F. Dunford Jr., publicly recommended that Mr. Biden abandon the exit deadline of May 1 and further reduce American forces only as security conditions improved. A report by the panel assessed that withdrawing troops on a strict timeline rather than how well the Taliban adhered to the agreement heightened the risk of a potential civil war once international forces left. But Mr. Biden, who had become deeply skeptical of American efforts to remake foreign countries in his years on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee and as vice president, asked what a few thousand American troops could do if Kabul was attacked. Aides said he told them that the presence of the American troops would further the Afghan government’s reliance on the United States and delay the day it would take responsibility for its own defense. The president told his national security team, including Secretary of State Antony J. Blinken and his national security adviser, Jake Sullivan, that he was convinced that no matter what the United States did, Afghanistan was almost certainly headed into another civil war — one Washington could not prevent, but also, in his view, one it could not be drawn into. By March, Pentagon officials said they realized they were not getting anywhere with Mr. Biden. Although he listened to their arguments and asked extensive questions, they said they had a sense that his mind was made up. In late March, Mr. Austin and General Milley made a last-ditch effort with the president by forecasting dire outcomes in which the Afghan military folded in an aggressive advance by the Taliban. They drew comparisons to how the Iraqi military was overrun by the Islamic State in 2014 after American combat troops left Iraq, prompting Mr. Obama to send American forces back. “We’ve seen this movie before,” Mr. Austin told Mr. Biden, according to officials with knowledge of the meetings. But the president was unmoved. If the Afghan government could not hold off the Taliban now, aides said he asked, when would they be able to? None of the Pentagon officials could answer the question. On the morning of April 6, Mr. Biden told Mr. Austin and General Milley he wanted all American troops out by Sept. 11. The intelligence assessments in Mr. Biden’s briefing books gave him some assurance that if a bloody debacle resulted in Afghanistan, it would at least be delayed. As recently as late June, the intelligence agencies estimated that even if the Taliban continued to gain power, it would be at least a year and a half before Kabul would be threatened; the Afghan forces had the advantages of greater numbers and air power, if they could keep their helicopters and planes flying. Even so, the Pentagon moved swiftly to get its troops out, fearful of the risks of leaving a dwindling number of Americans in Afghanistan and of service members dying in a war the United States had given up for lost. Before the July 4 weekend, the United States had handed over Bagram Air Base, the military hub of the war, to the Afghans, effectively ending all major U.S. military operations in the country. “Afghans are going to have to be able to do it themselves with the air force they have, which we’re helping them maintain,” Mr. Biden said at the time. A week later, he argued that the Afghans “have the capacity” to defend themselves. “The question is,” he said, “will they do it?” The Will Is Gone To critics of the decision, the president underestimated the importance of even a modest presence, and the execution of the withdrawal made the problem far worse. “We set them up for failure,” said David H. Petraeus, the retired general who commanded the international forces in Afghanistan from 2010 until he was appointed C.I.A. director the next year. Mr. Biden’s team, he argued, “did not recognize the risk incurred by the swift withdrawal” of intelligence and reconnaissance drones and close air support, as well as the withdrawal of thousands of contractors who kept the Afghan air force flying — all in the middle of a particularly intense fighting season. The result was that Afghan forces on the ground would “fight for a few days, and then realize there are no reinforcements” on the way, he said. The “psychological impact was devastating.” But administration officials, responding to such critiques, counter that the Afghan military dwarfs the Taliban, some 300,000 troops to 75,000. “They have an air force, a capable air force,” something the Taliban does not have, John F. Kirby, the Pentagon press secretary, said on Friday. “They have modern equipment. They have the benefit of the training that we have provided for the last 20 years. It’s time now to use those advantages.” But by the time Mr. Kirby noted those advantages, none of them seemed to be making a difference. Feeling abandoned by the United States and commanded by rudderless leaders meant that Afghan troops on the ground “looked at what was in front of them, and what was behind them, and decided it’s easier to go off on their own,” said retired Gen. Joseph L. Votel, the former commander of United States Central Command who oversaw the war in Afghanistan from 2016 to 2019. Mr. Biden, one administration official said, expressed frustration that President Ashraf Ghani of Afghanistan had not managed to effectively plan and execute what was supposed to be the latest strategy: consolidating forces to protect key cities. On Wednesday, Mr. Ghani fired his army chief, Lt. General Wali Mohammad Ahmadzai, who had only been in place for two months, replacing him with Maj. Gen. Haibatullah Alizai, a special operations commander. The commandos under General Alizai are the only troops who have consistently fought the Taliban these past weeks. Richard Fontaine, the chief executive of the Center for a New American Security, an influential Washington think tank that specializes in national security, wrote that in the end, the 20-year symbiosis between the United States and the Afghan government it stood up, supported and ushered through elections had broken down. “Those highlighting the Afghan government’s military superiority — in numbers, training, equipment, air power — miss the larger point,” he wrote recently. “Everything depends on the will to fight for the government. And that, it turns out, depended on U.S. presence and support. We’re exhorting the Afghans to show political will when theirs depends on ours. And ours is gone.”
https://www.nytimes.com/2021/08/14/us/afghanistan-biden.html
Is There Space in Pakistan for Women on Their Own?
By Nushmiya Sukhera
In 2016 Nighat Dad arrived at her office with her 9-year-old son and her younger sister after leaving their family home. Dad, 40, who is a lawyer and a women’s and digital rights activist, was well aware of the limitations in the kind of housing two women, both divorced, would be able to secure in Lahore. For a year and half, the three of them lived in a room on the top floor of the office, keeping it a secret from outsiders.Slowly, it became difficult to maintain the status quo with her son getting older, unable to leave their room during office hours, and with no kitchen to be able to cook food. Dad and her sister decided to look for another place — only to find out that because of their gender and relationship status they could not rent a place in any of the city’s good localities. Someone mentioned a housing authority to them that gave places to single women easily at reasonable prices and Dad quickly grabbed at the opportunity. “Our neighbors could not believe that two women were running the household,” said Dad. “They could not imagine a family unit without a man.” There seems to be no space in Pakistani culture for women living alone. The common and expected arc of a woman’s life consists of first living in her parents’ home and moving out only when moving into the home of her husband and his family. Women who seek independence are often thought to be bringing shame upon the family by doing so and are severely criticized by relatives — close and distant alike. But in recent years, the country has seen a change in which more women are choosing to live independently, whether it’s by relocating to a different city for work, leaving abusive domestic situations, or even simply wanting to dip their toes in some form of liberation in a country determined to shackle them in one way or another. However, for most of these women, the decision to live independently brings with it its own set of challenges. They often have to put themselves in potentially dangerous situations in order to live a life devoid of control and confinement. According to Mazhar Lodhi, a real estate agent based in Islamabad, finding places for women is fairly easy. “They can find accommodations in hostels, apartments and even portions or rooms in houses,” he said. For some women it might be easy to get a place, but living there seems to be a different story. A few years ago, Momina Mindeel, 27, convinced her family to let her live by herself for a few months before she left for graduate school in New York. After looking at a bunch of places, some too pricey and some too dingy, she finally moved into a portion of a house in Lahore that she rented with another girl. The landlord lived in another city, but he had hired another man to look after the house. “We already told him that we will be having male and female friends over and to not bother us later,” Mindeel said. But the man became increasingly interfering in their lives, constantly calling and asking about the guests visiting, or complaining about trivial matters. Because of him, Mindeel’s apartment mate left abruptly and Mindeel decided to finish the month before leaving, too. “Sometimes I would find him using her keys and getting into the portion I was renting — often sitting on the bed smoking.” When Mindeel finally mustered up the courage to ask him to stop doing this, he replied that if her other friends could come over, why couldn’t he? “While it was a terrible experience and I know all of it was because I was a woman,” said Mindeel. “I would be open to trying it again because of the freedom it afforded — but maybe just be a little careful of who the landlord is.” While for Mindeel it was the person in charge of the house who tried to take advantage of the two single women residing there, for Yusra Jabeen, 31, it was men who lived in the same apartment building as her. Jabeen has been living independently for the last six years, for work and to avoid a toxic domestic situation. “Just moving in and out of my apartment became uncomfortable,” said Jabeen. “Men continuously stared like what I was doing was something unusual.” She eventually began wearing a burqa to cover her face, thinking maybe that would help with the anxiety her living situation was causing. “I sometimes thought that if I had married someone maybe it would be better,” she laughed. “But then I quickly remind myself that I’m the only one making decisions for my life with all the freedom in the world — both of which would be non-existent in the former situation.” According to Nayab Gohar Jan, an activist based in Lahore, it’s a cost-benefit analysis in which some women are willing to go through a lot as a price for independence or freedom. “Normally, the limitations in their mobility and ability to make their own decisions lead them to make this huge and difficult step,” said Jan. Dr. Nida Kirmani, a sociologist and a professor of gender and urban marginality in South Asia, believes it is extremely difficult for women in Pakistan to move out of traditional family structures and only possible for a subsection of the elite. Jan disagrees. “If you look at whatever little housing options women have, there are hostels accommodating single women of which a lot are coming from smaller cities as well,” said Jan. According to her, it is a prevalent belief that in most cases upper and middle class women are getting a better bargain when they choose to live in traditional family structures in terms of comfort and resources — making it worth it to give up some freedom — unlike women belonging to the lower and working class. “The limitations to women’s bodily autonomy and decision making is not limited to one class, it happens across the board.” Speaking with women across different ages and socioeconomic backgrounds, it is evident that the journey isn’t easy in a place like Pakistan, but because of the basic mobility and freedom it brings, for some women the impediments are less and less daunting. For women who do decide to live independently, apart from the security concerns, moral policing is also a recurring theme in their journeys. In January 2020, Sidra Amin, 26, moved from Peshawar to Islamabad for work. “I had heard horror stories of women dealing with landlords and landladies so I found someone who already had an apartment and moved in,” she said. The building she lived in had two complexes — one for bachelors and one for families. Her apartment was on the first floor, which she found to be noisy and also unsafe. “I asked the real estate agent if I could be moved to the family complex, to which I was told that for that my parents need to visit at least once a month and I can never have any male friends over, which they will be monitoring through a security camera,” she said. “I don’t understand the moral policing of women by everyone and the need to prove that there is a family backing me up to feel safe.” She added that it is exhausting having to plan her entire day around trivial tasks for security reasons like ensuring that she’s not alone in the apartment when calling over an electrician or plumber. The recent surge in violence against women in Pakistan has increased the security concerns faced by women in the country. Afshan Khan, 44, left an emotionally abusive marriage in 2015 and decided to not live with her parents; instead she rented part of a house in Islamabad. “I keep checking if the doors and windows are all locked and have kept unarmed guards,” she said. “But hearing the recent stories of femicide in the city has made me increasingly cautious.” Khan said she knows she is extremely privileged to be able to rent in a really safe area of the city and to be able to hire security guards. According to her, her financial independence during her marriage was the reason this decision was easier and while the security concerns have her worked up on most days, the independence she enjoys now is critical. “All my life I have been dependent on someone; first my family and then my husband,” she said. “But now that I know what freedom feels like, I will never give it up again.” The most common concern raised by those who are against women living on their own is a lack of safety. “There is a misconception that women who live independently are worse off in terms of safety and security than those who live with their families because if you look at statistics, 70 to 90 percent of gender-based violence happens with close partnerships or relations,” said Jan. “The problem isn’t security as much as it is this patriarchal anxiety attached to women deciding they can survive on their own.” Anecdotally speaking, Jan believes there is already a rise in the number of women living alone, which can be seen from the albeit limited resources that are now available, including real estate agents and landlords that do entertain the idea of women living independently — something that did not exist not so long ago. “If more women do live independently, it would be a great challenge to the traditional patriarchal family structure,” said Kirmani. “It would give women the option to leave unhappy and abusive situations and normalize it for others in the process.” While there are no official statistics available, there does seem to be a change taking place in which many women are doing what it takes to be on their own and are ready to endure the challenges such a move brings. “Sometimes our insecurities and fears are so overpowering for us that we continue to live in unwanted, toxic, and even abusive situations because it provides a sense of familiarity and security,” said Dad. “But if just once women realize what it means to have the freedom to control their own lives, they’ll do anything and everything to grab onto it.” https://thediplomat.com/2021/08/is-there-space-in-pakistan-for-women-on-their-own/
#Pakistan - Flawed Mindset - Incidents of attacks on women and little boys are rising
By Sajad Jatoi
https://www.pakistantoday.com.pk/2021/08/12/flawed-mindset/
Pakistan: Why liberal Pashtuns are supporting the Afghan government
The Afghan Taliban enjoy significant support in Pakistan's northwestern region, but progressive Pashtuns are wary of their potential return to power in Afghanistan. They are now rooting for Afghan President Ashraf Ghani.
It is generally believed that most people in Pakistan's northwestern areas support the Taliban because of their own inclination toward Islamism, but the reality is somewhat different. It is true that the Islamist group is liked by many in the region, but the number of people who oppose the Taliban and the Pakistani state's alleged support to the outfit has also increased manifold in the past two decades.
Most of these ethnic Pashtuns are wary of a never-ending war in their region and blame both the Taliban and Islamabad for the devastation in their areas.As the Taliban are gaining strength in Afghanistan, liberal Pashtuns fear it is just a matter of time before Islamists make a comeback in Pakistan's northwestern areas, too.
There are already reports of Pakistani citizens holding Taliban flags and chanting Islamist slogans at rallies in areas close to the Afghan border. Islamic clerics in various parts of the country are also soliciting support for the Afghan Taliban and calling for donations.
This comes amid rapid Taliban advances in Afghanistan ahead of the complete withdrawal of NATO troops by September.
Opposition to the Taliban
Progressive Pashtuns recently held a convention in Charsadda, a town in Pakistan's northwestern Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province, to discuss the deteriorating security situation in Afghanistan.
They denounced the Taliban's assaults on Afghan forces.
They also condemned the United States' Doha deal with the Taliban , saying it practically legitimized the militant group.
The convention, which was composed of leading Pashtun nationalist parties, intellectuals, academics and left-leaning political workers, called for an immediate cease-fire across Afghanistan to pave the way for peace talks.
The Pashtun Tahafuz Movement (PTM), an anti-war group, has also held massive rallies in several parts of the province in the past few weeks. The PTM has condemned the Taliban and expressed its support for the Afghan government.
Support for Ashraf Ghani
Said Alam Mehsud, a PTM leader, believes that the Pashtuns in Afghanistan and Pakistan would suffer immensely if the Taliban managed to take over Kabul. "We support President Ashraf Ghani's government because it is legitimate. The Taliban are Pakistani mercenaries who want to topple an internationally recognized government," he told DW.
"The Taliban destroy schools, stop women from working, hand down inhuman punishments and kill innocent civilians. How can we support them?" he said.
On the contrary, Ghani's government, according to Mehsud, carried out several development projects in Afghanistan. The human rights situation has also improved under his administration, he added.
Bushra Gohar, a Pashtun politician and former lawmaker, agrees with Mehsud. "The PTM and other Pashtun groups are supporting Ghani because our people don't want to see the return of the Taliban's barbaric rule," she told DW.
She said that, despite Taliban advances, Afghans are revolting against Islamists. "We see an uprising against the Taliban in Afghanistan. People are taking to the streets to show support to their government and the security forces."
Samina Afridi, a Peshawar-based political analyst, says Pashtuns on both sides of the Afghanistan-Pakistan border want education, human rights and democracy, but the Taliban are against that.
The 'Taliban project'
Pakistani authorities have long accused liberal Pashtun groups, including the PTM, of destabilizing the country at Afghanistan's behest.
The PTM has gained considerable strength in the past four years, drawing tens of thousands of people to its protest rallies. Its supporters are critical of the war on terror, which they say has ravaged Pashtun areas in both Afghanistan and Pakistan.
Sarfraz Khan, the former head of the Area Study Center at the University of Peshawar, believes that if Ghani's government is toppled in Afghanistan, the PTM leadership in Pakistan will be targeted by both Islamists and Pakistani authorities.
Experts say the consequences of targeting progressive Pashtuns could be catastrophic for the northwestern region. Khan says these groups, which have so far been nonviolent, could take up arms.
Former lawmaker and activist Gohar says Islamabad needs to change its policy toward the Afghan conflict by ending its "proxy war" and the "Taliban project."
"The UN must make sure that the Taliban's Doha office and their sanctuaries in Pakistan and elsewhere be immediately closed and that it imposes sanctions on the Taliban leaders. They should also be tried for war crimes. Sanctions should also be imposed on countries that are aiding and abetting the Taliban," she said, adding that the "Afghan genocide" must stop now.
https://www.dw.com/en/pakistan-why-liberal-pashtuns-are-supporting-the-afghan-government/a-58819365
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)