Afghanistan's Wild West
Herat, once the most stable of Afghan provinces, is now becoming increasingly dangerous, and analysts say not all the violence is sponsored by the Taleban.
Afghanistan's Wild West
Herat, once the most stable of Afghan provinces, is now becoming increasingly dangerous, and analysts say not all the violence is sponsored by the Taleban.
When Abdul Rauf, the head of the government revenue department in the western province of Herat, was shot dead at his home on the morning of March 18, family members disputed the police’s story that the murder was motivated by personal vengeance.
“Abdul Rauf had no enemies,” said Noor Ahmad Sultani, who believes relative was killed because of his job. “I think his death was connected with administrative issues. The gunmen were hired to kill him.”
He continued, “We have no faith in our security forces any more, because the situation has deteriorated to the point where people can be killed even in broad daylight.”
Herat, Afghanistan’s western jewel, has always been famed for its culture and architectural beauty. As the local poet Ali Sher Navoi remarked more than 500 years ago, “You can’t stretch your legs in Herat without kicking a poet.”
The city stands at the crossroads of history, bordering Iran and Turkmenistan. Because of its location, it has been buffeted by various ethnic and religious influences which, while giving the city a welcome air of sophistication, are now contributing to rising tensions.
In the past 12 months, more than 50 people have been killed and at least 100 wounded in suicide bombings and other attacks, and the normally complacent Heratis are starting to grumble.
“People have no guarantee even for their own lives,” said Shahjan Karimzada, a businessman who owns a soft-drink plant in the city. “How can we protect our factories and shops? There are armed robberies and murders almost every day, and the police aren’t able to capture the criminals.”
Karimzada said many companies had already shipped out of Herat because of the deteriorating security situation.
“If this continues, there will be no more investment in Herat,” he said. “People are really worried.”
The Afghan government has sought to blame much of the violence on the Taleban-led insurgency.
“Of course it’s the Taleban who are behind these crimes, because they oppose the government,” said Sayed Hussain Anwari, the governor of Herat.
But local analysts and residents are not convinced.
“Herat contains jihadi elements who hate the government because they have lost their jobs,” said Muhammad Rafik Shaheer, a political analyst and head of the Council of Professionals, a non-government body in Herat. “We have recently witnessed a series of problems, including explosions, robberies, kidnappings and assassinations.”
The term “jihadis” applies to the various armed factions which emerged from the anti-Soviet mujahedin to fight first against each other in the early Nineties, and later against the Taleban. Many of their leaders are still prominent political figures.
According to Shaheer, Taleban activity in Herat province is at a much lower level than elsewhere in the country.
“People who have designs against the government are able to cover their tracks, so everything gets blamed on the Taleban,” he said.
“The most worrying aspect of this is that the police and army also contain elements that are against the government. They have links with the opposition, and must be cleared out.”
Herat is no stranger to political ambition and ethnic tension. Ismail Khan, the strongman who controlled Herat on and off for decades, is a Tajik who clashed with a Pashtun commander, Amanullah Khan, before being removed from office and brought to Kabul as energy minister.
Iranian influence can be felt in the Shia community, and there has been some violence on religious grounds. Last year’s Ashura festival, the holiest day in the Shia religious calendar, was marred by violence that left at least six people dead.
But the kind of bloodshed that has become common in the south, including the increasingly frequent suicide attacks, was relatively rare in Herat until a year ago.
The worst incident to date came in September, when a suicide bomber struck outside Herat’s famous mosque, killing 11 and wounding 18.
These attacks have been attributed to the Taleban, but some, including the local chief of police, accept that the blame may lie elsewhere.
“There are political groups besides the Taleban who are attempting to destabilise the situation in Herat,” said police spokesman Colonel Norkhan Nikzad.
He pointed to recent arrests in Herat province, in which police and intelligence forces rounded up six individuals suspected of bomb attacks.
“One is a citizen of Pakistan, and the others are Afghans with no ties to the Taleban,” said Nikzad.
Perhaps most worrying, added the spokesman, is that some of the violence has been perpetrated by men wearing police uniforms.
“We are trying to determine which groups they belong to,” he said.
Qari Mohammad Yusuf, a spokesman for the Taleban, has denied that the insurgent group had been involved in attacks on civilians.
“Not every act of sabotage or terrorism is attributable to the Taleban,” he told reporters.
Sadeq Behnam and Sudabah Afzali are freelance reporters in Herat.
“Abdul Rauf had no enemies,” said Noor Ahmad Sultani, who believes relative was killed because of his job. “I think his death was connected with administrative issues. The gunmen were hired to kill him.”
He continued, “We have no faith in our security forces any more, because the situation has deteriorated to the point where people can be killed even in broad daylight.”
Herat, Afghanistan’s western jewel, has always been famed for its culture and architectural beauty. As the local poet Ali Sher Navoi remarked more than 500 years ago, “You can’t stretch your legs in Herat without kicking a poet.”
The city stands at the crossroads of history, bordering Iran and Turkmenistan. Because of its location, it has been buffeted by various ethnic and religious influences which, while giving the city a welcome air of sophistication, are now contributing to rising tensions.
In the past 12 months, more than 50 people have been killed and at least 100 wounded in suicide bombings and other attacks, and the normally complacent Heratis are starting to grumble.
“People have no guarantee even for their own lives,” said Shahjan Karimzada, a businessman who owns a soft-drink plant in the city. “How can we protect our factories and shops? There are armed robberies and murders almost every day, and the police aren’t able to capture the criminals.”
Karimzada said many companies had already shipped out of Herat because of the deteriorating security situation.
“If this continues, there will be no more investment in Herat,” he said. “People are really worried.”
The Afghan government has sought to blame much of the violence on the Taleban-led insurgency.
“Of course it’s the Taleban who are behind these crimes, because they oppose the government,” said Sayed Hussain Anwari, the governor of Herat.
But local analysts and residents are not convinced.
“Herat contains jihadi elements who hate the government because they have lost their jobs,” said Muhammad Rafik Shaheer, a political analyst and head of the Council of Professionals, a non-government body in Herat. “We have recently witnessed a series of problems, including explosions, robberies, kidnappings and assassinations.”
The term “jihadis” applies to the various armed factions which emerged from the anti-Soviet mujahedin to fight first against each other in the early Nineties, and later against the Taleban. Many of their leaders are still prominent political figures.
According to Shaheer, Taleban activity in Herat province is at a much lower level than elsewhere in the country.
“People who have designs against the government are able to cover their tracks, so everything gets blamed on the Taleban,” he said.
“The most worrying aspect of this is that the police and army also contain elements that are against the government. They have links with the opposition, and must be cleared out.”
Herat is no stranger to political ambition and ethnic tension. Ismail Khan, the strongman who controlled Herat on and off for decades, is a Tajik who clashed with a Pashtun commander, Amanullah Khan, before being removed from office and brought to Kabul as energy minister.
Iranian influence can be felt in the Shia community, and there has been some violence on religious grounds. Last year’s Ashura festival, the holiest day in the Shia religious calendar, was marred by violence that left at least six people dead.
But the kind of bloodshed that has become common in the south, including the increasingly frequent suicide attacks, was relatively rare in Herat until a year ago.
The worst incident to date came in September, when a suicide bomber struck outside Herat’s famous mosque, killing 11 and wounding 18.
These attacks have been attributed to the Taleban, but some, including the local chief of police, accept that the blame may lie elsewhere.
“There are political groups besides the Taleban who are attempting to destabilise the situation in Herat,” said police spokesman Colonel Norkhan Nikzad.
He pointed to recent arrests in Herat province, in which police and intelligence forces rounded up six individuals suspected of bomb attacks.
“One is a citizen of Pakistan, and the others are Afghans with no ties to the Taleban,” said Nikzad.
Perhaps most worrying, added the spokesman, is that some of the violence has been perpetrated by men wearing police uniforms.
“We are trying to determine which groups they belong to,” he said.
Qari Mohammad Yusuf, a spokesman for the Taleban, has denied that the insurgent group had been involved in attacks on civilians.
“Not every act of sabotage or terrorism is attributable to the Taleban,” he told reporters.
Sadeq Behnam and Sudabah Afzali are freelance reporters in Herat.
