There is need for a change in the mindsets on both sides of the Durand Line
No two countries have seen their destinies so inextricably intertwined as have Pakistan and Afghanistan for the last quarter of a century.
Pakistan still faces the fallout of events in Afghanistan — the communist coup in 1978, the Soviet invasion and occupation, the American-funded Afghan jihad which led to a five-billion-dollar covert programmes spread over 10 years and the resultant civil war for another 12 years ravaged Afghanistan. The ‘Culture of Kalashnikovs’ and the menace of extremism are twins born from the womb of the ‘joint jihad’ in Afghanistan. Funded by the Americans and implemented by the Pakistanis, the Afghan jihad was the last battle of the Cold War in the 20th century which, with history going full circle, has been converted into the first big battle of the 21st century. The players are the same but their roles and goals different — the jihadis are now terrorists, friends are now foes, and Pakistan and the United States are engaged in a new military campaign to destroy, brick by brick, what they had built together two decades earlier.
During this long period, Pakistan has had the unique distinction of hosting over three million Afghan refugees, using its own meagre resources in a relationship that remained friction-free.
It is, therefore, no accident that the bipartisan 9/11 commission in the United States, which gave its recommendations last year, stated that three countries would remain vital to American national security interests for the foreseeable future, namely, Pakistan, Afghanistan and Saudi Arabia.
Given this contest, the invitation given by Afghanistan’s dapper Foreign Minister, Dr Abdullah Abdullah, to “talk things over during a weekend at my village in Panjsher” was too good to pass. And with his sincere charm, he added “feel free to bring along family and friends”. The invitation was extended during a July meeting in Kabul when Prime Ministers Shaukat Aziz was visiting Afghanistan.
Dr Abdullah symbolizes the resilient Afghanistan, whose people have shown the stamina and strength to bounce back. His heritage reflects the country’s ethnic diversity: his father was a Pashtoon and his mother a Tajik from the Panjsher valley. His family was part of the old establishment (in the days of royalty, his father was a senator) and today, he is the new establishment’s most prominent Tajik face in an otherwise Pashtoon-dominated power structure. He has been an active participant in his country’s political life since 1948 when he came to Peshawar to spend a year in an Afghan refugee hospital run by the Swedish Red Cross in Peshawar. After 9/11, he traded jihadi battle fatigues (the traditional khaki jacket and the Chitrali cap that was the trademark of the Panjsheris led by the legendary Commander Ahmad Shah Masud) for western-style sartorial elegance.
A handsome man with striking Semitic features, at 45, Dr Abdullah remains quite youthful with an ability to go on long treks and climbing mountains with ease, a trait evident during our visit to his village, Dashtak, in Panjsher.
Dr Abdullah had ensured a warm reception on our arrival at the Kabul airport, where Afghan’s suave ambassador to Pakistan, Dr Nanguyalai Tarzi, was waiting to receive us on a bright, sunny and warm afternoon. His grand uncle, Dr Mahmud Tarzi, was Afghanistan’s first foreign minister and the Tarzis have always been confidantes of the royal family (his aunt was the wife of Amir Amanullah Khan, the Muslim world’s trio of early 20th century modernist reformers alongside Turkey’s Ataturk and Iran’s Reza Shah). Dr Tarzi told us to be ready in an hour’s time to accompany Dr Abdullah to his village in the Panjsher, a drive of a little over two and a half hours.
We drove through areas like Charikar, capital of Parwan province, Jabel-i-Siraj and Gulbanhar before entering the beautiful Panjsher valley, after taking a detour towards the right form the road from Kabul that goes towards the Salang Pass. On the way, we stopped over at a couple of places to have a look at the view, especially the fertile agricultural land which produces a two-crop economy (none of these opium).
The Panjsher valley is about 120 kilometres in length and has hills and mountains ranging from 1,800 to 2,000-plus metres (somewhere between the range of the Murree and the Nathiagali heights). Dr Abdullah’s village is some 30 kilometres inside the valley after a drive on a dirt road that winds its way from the barren mountains alongside the Panjsher river which then joins up the Kabul river that in turn flows down into the Indus in a symbolic linkage of the geography and destiny of Afghanistan and Pakistan. On the way to his village, we could see rusted remnants of Russian tanks and armoured personnel carriers, a bitter reminder of the resistance that reflected the failure of the Soviet army to subdue the Panjsheris. Dr Abdullah is a familiar and popular figure around those areas, his home base, where villages are plastered with the smiling image of Commander Ahmed Shah Masud and candidates contesting the country’s parliamentary elections on September 18. Among the candidates are another ‘first’ with photos of Afghan chador-clad women keen to seek their place in Afghanistan’s democratic political system.
Dr Abdullah’s spacious house is perched on a hill-top on the banks of the Panjsher river. Like his private residence in Kabul, Dr Abdullah’s house in his village reflects the “joint family system” prevalent in our part of the world where extended families live together on common family property. One good legacy of the jihad years is cricket, which Afghan children learnt to play as refugees in Pakistan. Abdullah’s nephews were busy that Friday morning playing cricket while he himself enjoyed listening to maestro Mehdi Hasan’s rendering of Urdu ghazals of Faiz Ahmed Faiz, with Hameed Haroon, who was in our party, explaining to him the fine points of miniatures in his living room with the skill and ease of an art connoisseur.
Reminiscing about the Afghan jihad, Dr Abdullah, dressed in his embroidered Kandahari kurta, recalled my interview with Commander Ahmad Shah Masud in 1990, the only time that he visited Pakistan during the jihad years. Responding to a question about his reputation of being “anti-Pakistani”, Masud had retorted: “I am a friend of Pakistan but don’t expect me to be a flunkey.”
Dr Abdullah said that “we had pleaded with our friends in Pakistan that please don’t push us to the wall and don’t play favourites among the Mujahideen, otherwise we will have to look for sources of support elsewhere for our survival”. And he said that “Yes, after 1996, when the Taliban were installed with Pakistan’s help, we (Northern Alliance) were forced to seek help from India as well as others like Iran, Turkey, Russia and Tajikistan”. But he made it a point to emphasize that the phase of civil war was over and today, Afghanistan needed Pakistan since “facts of geography, history and heritage just cannot be wished away”.
He recalled some interesting periods in recent Afghan history. Dr Abdullah said that after “we were routed by the Taliban and they were about to capture Kabul, we offered a safe passage to Dr Najibullah, the last communist ruler of Afghanistan, but surprisingly, he declined because of two miscalculations: first, he had great faith in the United Nations and felt that since he was in the UN compound, its sanctity would be respected and, secondly, he had a feeling that since he was Pashtoon, the Taliban would perhaps be soft with him because of ethnic camaraderie.”
Dr Abdullah’s diplomatic skills were also honed up at home because he was given the difficult and unpleasant task of informing his party leader, the head of the Jamiat-i-Islami, who was then president of Afghanistan, Prof Burhanduddin Rabbani, that in Bonn, the decision had been taken to remove him and replace him by Hamid Karzai. The Afghan president now reflects the confidence of an elected leader, who has the solid backing of the West, particularly the United States. He too is keen for a closer rapport with Pakistan but feels that “we should avoid playing games and try to remove any suspicions through a candid, heart-to-heart dialogue”. He says that Pakistan and Afghanistan “need each other” and it is important that “we move on instead of being stuck in the mindset of the past”.
Despite the periodic “war of words” on both sides, Pakistan-Afghan relations are thriving. There are 60,000 Pakistani skilled and semi-skilled workers working in Afghanistan and official trade between the two countries has jumped to a whopping 1.2 billion dollars.
There is a need for a change in the mindsets on both sides of the Durand Line. The Afghan leadership should stop attributing every bullet fired inside Afghanistan to an “ISI operation” since Pakistan would have no intention to destabilize a country whose president’s election last year was ensured by Pakistan via a large turnout of voters in the Afghan refugee camps. For its part, Pakistan should stop looking at Afghanistan through either the “India factor or Pashtoon specific policies” since both would blur our vision towards its western neighbour. There is too much at stake for both countries and too many problems at home for them to try to meddle in each other’s affairs.
Peace in Afghanistan is critical to stability in a region in which Pakistan is trying to build a better tomorrow through an opening to Central Asia that remains dependent on Afghanistan. Pakistan’s path to peace and progress in the region passes through Afghanistan and Afghanistan’s prosperity and stability is also dependent on Pakistan. This geopolitical ‘doctrine of necessity’ should be the basic building block for a durable friendship between Pakistan and Afghanistan whose destiny is intertwined since today they have no fundamental conflict of interest.
No two countries have seen their destinies so inextricably intertwined as have Pakistan and Afghanistan for the last quarter of a century.
