Article from: The Australian
IN 1994 a group of religious students from a madrassa in Kandahar banded together to take on the vicious warlords who then ran southern Afghanistan. About 30 young men with 16 rifles stormed a military camp where two girls were being held and raped, rescuing the girls and hanging the camp's commander from the gun barrel of a tank, or so the story goes. Thus began the movement known as the Taliban, from the word talib, meaning student. As Pakistani author Ahmed Rashid wrote in his seminal book, Taliban: "They saw themselves as the cleansers and purifiers of a guerilla war gone astray, a social system gone wrong, and an Islamic way of life thathad been compromised by corruption and excess."
Within months, 12,000 volunteers had joined the new organisation.
The Taliban would likely have been just another in the plethora of Afghan militias scrabbling for power except that it found itself a powerful sponsor in the government and military establishment of neighbouring Pakistan. Keen to have a biddable ally in Kabul, Islamabad provided the weapons, ammunition, funding and logistical support that enabled the Taliban -- "our boys", as Pakistan's interior minister famously called them -- to seize power and rule Afghanistan for five years.
But the forces of militancy unleashed more than a decade ago in Afghanistan are surging back across the border to swamp Pakistan itself. A full-blown insurgency is raging in the North-West Frontier Province and spreading to the main cities, and the country's powerful security forces seem impotent to stop terrorist atrocities such as Tuesday's attack on the Sri Lankan cricket team in Lahore that have seen the country branded as the new epicentre of global terrorism.
As the US moves to send another 17,000 troops to Afghanistan -- and Australia faces pressure to boost its contingent -- it is clear that the roots of the militant uprising and the new wave of terrorism lie next door in Pakistan, where a far graver crisis looms. Nuclear-armed Pakistan is spinning out ofcontrol.
As William Maley of the Asia-Pacific college of diplomacy at the Australian National University in Canberra observes: "There are huge problems in Afghanistan. Confidence has plummeted because of the insecurity, but people haven't turned against the democratic transition, they are still strongly committed to it, and that may well carry Afghanistan through.
"But in Pakistan there is a profound crisis of confidence in the political system. It's a failing state and a decidedly roguish state. And this is why a lot of Western leaders are becoming profoundly concerned."
The roots of this transnational crisis stretch back more than a century to when Pakistan was part of the British Indian empire, or Raj, that sprawled across the subcontinent. Repeated attempts by the British to extend their dominion into Afghanistan failed, as they were fought off by the fearsome Pashtun warriors whom no invader before or since has been able to subdue. The British finally conceded defeat and in 1893 drew a line on a map to divide their territory from Afghanistan's. The enduring problem with this arbitrary border was that it cut straight through the middle of the lands known as Pashtunistan, the harsh mountain terrain inhabited by tribal Pashtuns, who number about 40 million and are renowned for their fierce independence, elaborate hospitality and ferocious fighting skills.
The British knew they could never conquer the Pashtuns, so in 1901 they carved out a separate realm called the North-West Frontier Province and gave the Pashtuns almost total autonomy in seven tribal agencies strung along the border.
For more than a century the Pashtuns were left largely to themselves, forming the world's largest autonomous tribal society, run by local jirgas (councils) according to an honour code called pashtunwali, which prizes courage, chivalry, hospitality and patriotism, and deems that "women belong in the house or the grave", in the words of a Pashtun proverb. The agencies were closed to strangers and guidebooks warned tourists that in the tribal lands: "Pakistani laws don't apply and the Pakistani government has no authority whatever."
The status of Pashtunistan was never resolved and spurred repeated uprisings and border clashes. To this day the Afghan Government refuses to recognise the so-called Durand Line (named after the Raj's foreign secretary Mortimer Durand), claiming the Pashtun lands are rightfully part of Afghanistan, and Pashtun leaders on both sides simply ignore it.
The 1979 Soviet invasion of Afghanistan prompted Pakistan to seize the opportunity to install a compliant regime in Kabul in the hope of finally resolving the border issue in its favour. It threw its support behind the Islamic militants, becoming the conduit for billions of dollars funnelled from the US and Saudi Arabia to the mujaheddin. When the rival factions turned on each other after defeating the Soviets, Pakistan switched its support to the Taliban and celebrated when the black-turbaned warriors swept to power.
The warning signs of blowback were there for all to see.
French scholar Olivier Roy wrote in 1997: "The apparent victor, Pakistan, could pay dearly for its success. The triumph of the Taliban has virtually eliminated the border between Pakistan and Afghanistan. On both sides, Pashtun tribes are gaining autonomy; already small fundamentalist tribal emirates are appearing on Pakistani soil."
Up to 100,000 Pakistanis are estimated to have trained with the Taliban, then returned home to take up the fight.
As Rashid reported, as far back as 1995 the Movement for Enforcement of Islamic Law led an uprising to demand sharia law in Bajaur, the northernmost of the tribal agencies and lately the scene of all-out warfare between government troops and militants. In 1998 the Taliban Movement of Pakistan, Tehrik-e-Taliban, began burning cinemas, smashing satellite dishes and publicly executing murderers in areas it controlled.
The militants were fortified by the arrival in the tribal belt of the Afghan Taliban leadership and its al-Qa'ida allies, who escaped across the border after being driven out of Afghanistan in the wake of the attacks on the US in September 11, 2001. They were welcomed in Pakistan by tribal warlords such as Jalaluddin Haqqani, a veteran of the anti-Soviet jihad who is aligned with the Taliban and is also believed to be a prime mover behind the recent wave of terror.
Haqqani, too, owes his survival to the Pakistani military, at least in part. Pakistan's army chief Ashfaq Kayani was heard to describe Haqqani as a "strategic asset" in an intercepted conversation reported by The New York Times correspondent David Sanger in his new book, The Inheritance.
The twin arm of the aggressive and duplicitous foreign policy overseen by Pakistan's notorious Inter-Services Intelligence agency was to covertly wage war against its eastern neighbour India in disputed Kashmir. The ISI-sponsored, funded and instructed Islamist groups including Lashkar e-Taiba (Army of the Pure) as its proxies to fight Indian forces in Kashmir. Like the al-Qa'ida camps in Afghanistan, the training camps of LET in Pakistan, supplied and protected by the Pakistan army and ISI, became training sites for jihadists from across the world.
Islamabad's response to the burgeoning militancy was to declare a truce in 2005 with the leading Pakistani Taliban commander, Baitullah Mehsud, which bought him two years in which to expand his territory across the tribal areas and amass an armed following of up to 30,000 men.
Intelligence analysis group Stratfor describes Mehsud as part of a new generation of militant leaders, inspired and influenced not by the Pakistani security forces but by al-Qa'ida. Mehsud's group is blamed for a string of atrocities, including the 2007 assassination of former prime minister Benazir Bhutto.
The militants have been emboldened further by a level of public support or at least tolerance. A 2007 survey in Pakistan by the US-based Terror Free Tomorrow showed that 67 per cent opposed military action against jihadists in the tribal zone. Between 37 per cent and 49 per cent said they supported the militants. Those figures have probably been bolstered by rising anger over the belated offensive in the tribal zone and the US Predator drone strikes aimed at Taliban and al-Qa'ida leaders that reportedly have claimed a high civilian death toll.
The army's claim to have wiped out the rebels in their stronghold of Bajaur has been greeted with scepticism.
Maley says it's "a balloon-squeezing exercise": the militants will simply pop up somewhere else. The likeliest place seems to be the nearby Swat Valley, where the Pakistani Government last month agreed to allow sharia law in return for a ceasefire.
Like many experts, Maley predicts this will prove disastrous, merely creating a new sanctuary for the extremists bent on destroying the Pakistani state