Maidan Shahr, Dec
18 : Every day except Friday, the little midwife school bustled with
activity. Students practiced listening for fetal heartbeats and cutting
umbilical cords. New mothers and babies sometimes spent the night. It was the
only center of its kind in Wardak province, a region of scattered villages
surrounded by mountains.
A truck piled with firewood approached the
clinic in this small provincial capital 30 miles south of Kabul. Challenged by a
policeman, the driver detonated a powerful bomb hidden under his cargo, sending
shock waves across the town and shattering almost every window in a five-block
radius.
The midwife program was closed for the weekly Muslim holy day, so
no one was harmed in the office. But much of it was destroyed, and officials
there said it would not reopen. A dozen mud-brick houses nearby were reduced to
rubble, and hundreds of people were knocked down or sliced by shards of glass.
Panic-stricken residents stumbled or were carried to the town hospital. Four
people died, including the bomber, and 160 were treated for
injuries.
“The ground shook and everyone started to run,” said Abdul
Wali, 25, a hardware shop owner whose gaping glass storefront was still covered
with a blanket. “I don’t know who would do such a terrible thing, but we have no
security at all. The police beat people, the Americans raid our villages and
still we are not safe. We would be happy if they all left tomorrow.”
Even
for people hardened by a decade of war, the massive truck bomb dealt a
devastating psychological blow. More than a week after the attack, many shops
were empty and not a single woman was to be seen outside the hospital. People in
stores and offices were visibly nervous and seething with anger but unsure
whether to direct it at the unknown culprits or the authorities, who had failed
to protect them.
Taliban spokesmen claimed that they had carried out the
bombing to avenge the execution of several Taliban prisoners in Kabul, but
police officials had a different theory. They said Afghan security forces had
been conducting intensive anti-insurgent raids in the area, and the Taliban
wanted to prove that they could assault a high-security district that included
police headquarters, the governor’s guesthouse and a joint U.S.-Afghan military
command post, as well as the midwife school.
“The enemy stabbed us from
behind,” said Gen. Abdul Razzak Qureshi, the deputy provincial police commander,
whose office door was blown off its hinges. “We cleared 150 villages this month.
We wanted to test our forces to see if they can defeat the Taliban once the
American troops leave. We were very successful, but they did this cowardly
attack to show they are still here.”
Wardak, a rural province where
nomads camp in summer, has increasingly come under Taliban control in the past
five years. The town of Maidan Shahr is strategically located on a major
highway, and both the national police and the U.S. military have large bases
less than a mile away. But most of the populace is from the same Pashtun ethnic
group as the Taliban, and many farmers have turned to opium poppy cultivation,
making them natural allies of the insurgents.
Taliban attacks have been
relatively rare in Wardak, but in early September, twin suicide attacks in the
town of Syedabad killed 13 people and wounded 80 when one bomber on foot and
another driving a fuel tanker detonated explosives near a U.S. military
base.
Although the trappings of security are visible in Maidan Shahr —
including U.S. military cameras on posts and a spy balloon that floats over the
town — residents complain that the Afghan government’s presence is woefully
inadequate. They said the governor and most provincial officials live in Kabul
for their own protection and visit Maidan Shahr a few hours a day at most,
leaving well before sunset. The governor, through a spokesman in Kabul, declined
to be interviewed.
“The problem is not that the Taliban are strong, it’s
that the government is weak,” said Ghulam Nabi, an administrator for the
Scandinavian charity that operated the midwife school. He said many civilian
officials and police officers were ethnic Tajiks from the north, who have a
history of conflict with Pashtuns. “If our governor and police chief lived here
and had families here, they would make sure we had the peace and security and
services we need.”
Residents expressed widespread indignation at the
abusive behavior of local police, and half a dozen people separately described
the recent beating and drowning of a truck driver at police hands. And although
no one openly said they supported the Taliban, many people expressed far
stronger concern and frustration about the village raids being carried out by
Afghan troops with U.S. backing.
Two nervous officials from a government
agency, who had driven from Kabul to assess bomb damage to shops, said they
could not find most of the owners.
One of the few open stores was a small
but stylishly arranged boutique for women’s fashions and shoes. The proprietor,
a young man named Taj Mohammed, said he had been sleeping there at night,
despite the freezing cold, because he feared being arrested if he returned to
his home village.
“We have nowhere to stand. We have trouble with the
government, the Americans and the Taliban too,” said Mohammed, who had just
spent $400 to replace his picture window. He was clearly terrified by the
bombing, which he described as a roaring wind that made the roof collapse on
him. But he shook with emotion when he described other powerful forces,
including NATO troops, as having replaced his town’s normal life with
uncertainty, abuse and fear.
“We don’t even feel human,” he said. “I know
we will suffer more when the American forces go, but we are fed up with them
too. We don’t expect much from the Taliban except beatings, but the Americans
are supposed to bring laws and principles. What we have here now is just
chaos.”
Ends
SA/EN
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» Rural Afghan town feels caught between US and Taliban
Rural Afghan town feels caught between US and Taliban
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