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IUK: Fisk - A city of spiritual beauty broods in the rubble By Robert Fisk 16/11/2001 12:28 am Fri |
[Kehancuran di Afghanistan jauh lebih dahsyat dari tragedi WTC.
Mangsa WTC kebanyakkannya mati terus tetapi mangsa perang Afghan
(yang hidup) terpaksa mengharungi hidup mereka dalam keadaan cacat
dan penuh duka. America sebenarnya mengebom dan menjahanamkan keindahan spiritual
Afghanistan dan menggantikannya dengan satu pakatan syaitan yang
tidak dengar kata sesiapa - termasuk kata-kata Amerika juga. Hari
ini pakatan Utara dilapurkan tidak mahu menerima kehadiran pasukan
pengaman PBB..... Kalaulah kata-kata tuhan pun tidak diperduli,
inikan pula kata-kata manusia. Itulah 'keindahan' spiritual Pakatan
Utara sehingga barat pun menggeleng kepala.
- Editor] 15 November 2001 A city of spiritual beauty broods in the rubble
By Robert Fisk Kandahar looked much as it did when the Taliban turned
Alexander the Great's timeworn city into their political capital
seven years ago: ruined, mined and deserted, most of its
inhabitants already in the refugee middens of Pakistan.
The Taliban paid around £1.04m in 1996 to take Kandahar without
firing a shot (those were the days when you could buy cities as
well as warlords with hard cash), and most of the money came from
Saudi Arabia, along with taxes on roads and drugs.
The spiritual role in the Taliban life of the city declared the first
capital of Afghanistan in 1747, in the reign of Ahmed Shah Durani,
was consecrated on 4 April, 1996 when the Pushtu Kandaharis
entered the marble-walled da Kherqa Sherif Ziarat, the Shrine of
the Cloak of the Prophet, and brought forth the very robe worn by
Mohamed. They took it to the rooftop from which the Taliban leader
Mullah Mohamed Omar was speaking, and laid it across his
shoulders. Wrapping it around him in the high wind, Omar waited
as the crowd proclaimed him Amir al-Momineen, Leader of all
Pious Muslims. In just such a way had the Caliph Omar proclaimed
himself leader of all Muslims in Arabia after the Prophet's death.
Mullah Omar had used this moment to declare a holy war against
the regime of President Burhan-uddin Rabbani and his mujahedin
government, the very forces which were last night at the gates of
Kandahar. It was ever a place of righteousness and courage. I visited the city
in 1980, only days after the first Soviet troops had occupied
Kandahar province. Afghan communists patrolled the city by night,
Soviet soldiers by day. Yet they vanished each evening when the
people of Kandahar emerged onto their rooftops to scream Allahu
Akbar, God is great, to the skies. It was a cry of defiance. I spent
more than two hours listening to this long declaration-lament which
echoed across streets and parks and gardens in an unusual lyrical
pattern, one section of the city taking up the call from another.
In the months and years that followed the Taliban takeover,
Kandahar was beloved of the Taliban and loathed by the people of
Kabul whose pulverised and sepulchral streets no longer merited
the status of a decision- making city. To Kandahar came diplomats
and statesmen and bootleggers, arms-dealers and drug-runners.
Oil company chiefs from Argentina and, yes, from the United States
turned up to pay court to Mullah Omar's odd, bearded government.
Pakistani embassy staff from Kabul and senior generals in the
Pakistani Interservices Intelligence arrived in Kandahar. So did
executives of the American oil company Unocal. So did Russian
diplomats and senior Saudi intelligence officers.
Under the Taliban's rule, the outward manifestations of crime and
pillage finished, often at the end of a rope, while those most
ferocious of Islamic punishments for which the Taliban were to
become notorious were first practised in Kandahar. The city famous
for its gardens and mosques thus became synonymous with the
amputation of feet and hands, the urban wearing of the burqa and
the prohibition of television and women's education.
That Mullah Omar, untutored and of peasant offspring, should have
worn the cloak of the Prophet was an affront to many Afghans and
his declaration to be Leader of all Pious Muslims was
unprecedented. When King Dost Mohamed Khan adopted the title
in 1834, he was fighting foreigners in what is today Pakistan.
Mullah Omar declared war against his own Afghan people. Under
his rule, Kandahar prospered. His modest offices and home lay
alongside the palace of Osama bin Laden - all destroyed in US air
and special forces raids over the past month - but the beauty of
Kandahar had been torn out during the Soviet occupation when
the mujahedin attacked Russian troops in the city.
The Afghan fighters mined the gardens and irrigation ditches and
the Soviets used their Hind helicopters to blast away large
sections of the old city along with its civilian inhabitants. Nor was
Kandahar the haven of peace and legitimacy that the Taliban
would later claim. Within a year of their takeover, there were gun
battles in surrounding villages as Afghan Pashtuns objected to
conscription. The Taliban later executed 18 army deserters in
Kandahar jail. The city's Ulema, the religious leaders who
surrounded Mullah Omar, one of whom taught him Islamic
jurisprudence, became the effective theological power in a land
whose internationally recognised capital was only once visited by
the man who claimed to be the Prophet's successor.
Arms supplies were regularly flown from Saudi Arabia and Pakistan
into Kandahar's newly-equipped airport whose telephone and
wireless communications systems had been provided by
Islamabad. This same airport was last night reported to be in the
hands of Northern Alliance. But many Muslims will be more anxious to know if the Cloak of the Prophet remains safe inside its museum of marble and gilded archways. Even more of the city's Pashtun population will be living in fear of the revenge of the Northern Alliance. It would be pleasant to believe that the Alliance's gunmen were in the gardens around Kandahar last night, mulling over Tony Blair's calls for restraint. But, somehow, that does not seem likely. |