Hazhir Teimourian - Middle East Analyst and Commentator
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The sad, sad story of Shangri-La

RTE World Report, Dublin, February 2000

Only about 30 years ago, you might have thought that the legend of Shangri-La had been based on Afghanistan. It was a country of a million deep gorges and a thousand high mountains. Its people were the most colourful mosaic of different races and languages you could imagine, and they lived mainly by agriculture under their local tribal chiefs who professed loyalty to a shy, paternalistic king in far-away Kabul, the capital.

Then, suddenly, everything was shattered to bits. The king's own cousin overthrew him with the help of pro-Soviet communist officers in the army and declared the country a republic. Shortly afterwards, the officers massacred their new president and his family, and declared the sleepy land a brave new People's Republic, before falling out among themselves. As they tottered, the Americans led such other states as Britain and Saudi Arabia to arm every little cut-throat as a freedom-fighter struggling to free his country from foreign oppression, that is, from the Russians, and the Russian army invaded to bolster its tottering client in Kabul.

Ten years of civil war followed, in which whatever little that the monarchy had achieved in the way of nation building was undone. From the Persian-speakers of the city of Herat in the west to the Pathans of the east, the Uzbeks, the Baluch, even the Hazara remnants of the Mongolian armies of the thirteenth century, they all set themselves up as virtually independent fiefdom, and all flew the flag of Islam, the only thing that they had in common.

Then came the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991 and that hastened the collapse of the communist Kabul regime. Hope seemed to dawn for the first time in many years. The various Mujahedin armies could now unite and form a government of their own. But, no. They fought among themselves instead. In the meantime, the land-locked new states of central Asia wanted to export their oil and natural gas to the ocean and the nearest route was through Iran. But the Americans didn't want that. Nor did the Pakistanis, who wanted the pipelines to pass through Afghanistan and Pakistan. So, they, the Pakistanis, armed and unleashed on the warring Mujahedin a new force, mainly students of Muslim theology, the Taliban, who had been brought up in Afghan refugee camps in Pakistan. These now control nearly 90 percent of Afghanistan and have imposed on the unfortunate land one of the most unforgiving regimes of terror in recent history.

One image from the recent hijacking will remain in my mind for some years. It is of a white-haired man with a military bearing who had set up an office in the foyer of Stanstead airport to try to affect the outcome in favour of the Taliban. I knew general Rahmatollah Safi rather well, once. During the Afghan civil war, he used to visit the offices of the Times newspaper in London to be interviewed by me on the latest twists of the conflict. At that time, he was a monarchist, a mild man who believed in equality for women. But earlier this week, there he was, proudly advertising his support for the Taliban. The Taliban lash women who venture out of their houses without the presence of a close mail relative. What hope for Shangri-La, now?

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