Author: Julius Strauss
Publication: The Daily Telegraph
Date: October 1, 2001
Dashti Qala, Afghanistan - The Taleban
herded the population of the war-ravaged northern town of Taleqan into
its main square. Then they began parading three dogs.
Each had a shaved head stencilled
with the names of the men the movement most despised: Burhunnadin Rabbani,
the ousted Afghan president, Zahir Shah, the exiled king, and George W.
Bush, President of the United States.
Then they poured gasoline on the
dogs and set fire to them.
Noor Muhammad, a proud 52-year-old
farmer from a nearby village, was among the witnesses. Muhammad Qul, 55,
and Abdul Karim, 48, were also there.
The three men sat in a refugee camp
yesterday surrounded by a sprawling dust plain in opposition-held territory
a few kilometres from the front line. They had arrived only hours before
after an overnight escape.
The three men and their families
are the victims of the latest Taleban terror campaign.
Facing the prospect of a pulverizing
Western bombing campaign that may oust them from power, the fundamentalist
rulers of Afghanistan are exacting a terrible revenge against those they
suspect of disloyalty.
The burning of the dogs 10 days
ago was only meant to serve as a warning.
Last Friday, at midday prayers,
the Taleban struck a second, more telling blow against the local population.
First they surrounded the mosque
with soldiers.
Then a Taleban agent was sent to
accompany the mullah to say prayers.
"The mullah told all the men to
fight for Islam," Noor Muhammad said. "Then he asked for volunteers. We
all put our hands up. We were very scared and thought we would be taken
to prison or shot otherwise."
On Saturday night, a truck came
into the village carrying a dozen Taleban soldiers who began knocking on
doors looking for young men.
Where they found no men, they started
looting. The victims were told they should already have sold their possessions
and given the money to Islam.
"They said we should fight the Americans
who want to take away Islam," Noor Muhammad said. "Then they began burning
the houses where they couldn't find young men. They must have burned down
10 or 20 of the 200 houses in the village."
For those who signed up, fate was
little better. Each was given a gun and assigned a commander. They were
then driven or marched off to collection points to prepare to fight the
Americans.
When the first strikes come, the
unwilling volunteers will be on the front line.
Noor Muhammad decided to flee with
his family. Late Saturday night, his and two other families set off into
the mountains.
"We knew some sympathizers of the
Northern Alliance," he said. "They guided us by moonlight between the Taleban
and the minefields."
As he surveyed his new home yesterday,
he looked harried. Some refugees have been in the camp for a year.
Muhammad Nazar, an 80-year-old neighbour
in the camp with a hoarse voice and receding gums, came as close as an
Afghan does to pleading.
"When are you going to bomb the
Taleban? We are waiting and waiting."
Five days ago, Taleban soldiers
burst into Muhammad's house in Taleqan. When he refused to say where his
sons were, they took his rugs and family valuables and then set fire to
the building.
"They wanted our sons to fight against
the Americans," he said. "But when are the Americans going to strike back?"
War against the Taleban is the last
hope for the thousands of refugees in Dashti Qala camp, surely one of the
world's most bleak. In summer, temperatures soar to nearly 50C. In winter,
they hover at around 10C.
Last winter, residents say 40 of
their number died of cold.
Most of the aid agencies that feed
them have now left.
"It's more than three weeks since
they last got food," said John Weaver, a U.S. aid worker who decided to
stay despite the risks.
In the baking dust yesterday, Qazi
Gul, 70, showed her home for the last year. It is a ragged khaki-coloured
tent about one metre by three. She shares it with five others.
The area is without road or rail
and travellers must make tortuous journeys on dangerous mountain roads.
Most northern Afghans drive battered Russian jeeps at breakneck speed.
There are no traffic lights, speed limits, drivers' licences or number
plates.
Taleban-held territory by contrast
has roads, infrastructure, electricity and even internal scheduled flights,
luxuries unimaginable in the territory of the Northern Alliance.
