It is the holy month of Ramzan and we are in Afghanistan. But look for the expected, the much depicted figures of men in beards and women in burkhas, coupled with a staunch religious-seriousness of purpose, and you will be re-educated. In the culmination of a long process, the Karzai government has announced willingness for talks with the Taliban, which the Taliban has reciprocated. Karzai has also expressed the possibility of them joining the government. At this point, one has to consider the Taliban (and the religious Ramzan fast) as flashpoints for understanding the aspirations of the common Afghan, while he tries to build his identity. The ordinary, ambitious Afghan in Kabul — a city which straddles the growth of new malls and shopping centres with a large migrant community — has broken the barrier of the dress code. The dress code, the ramification of what an idea should ‘look’ like, enforced most obviously by the Taliban. Currently, men without beards and women in headscarves — and not burkhas — are a call for the de-Talibanisation of the common man. “I will not be told to keep a beard. I am an Afghan and our culture gives us freedom of choice,” says our 30 year old car driver, one of those many ambitious Afghans who had to flee to Pakistan during the Taliban’s rule and returned after its ousting. What then, does the Ramzan fast, one of the most important events on the Islamic calendar, and one of the five basic duties of the Muslim, mean for the Afghan who is trying to break the manacles of violent fundamentalism? The first rule during Ramzan is not to eat, smoke or drink in public. Our Indian group repeatedly forgets this and breaks the rule. No one is at our throats. Not only does the Afghan have a liberal understanding of a foreigner, India’s soft power in the country comes with aspirational value for the process of construction of a re-asserted Afghan identity. Each time we step outside, we are asked if we are Indian or Pakistani: and Indians are friends, carved out from historical cultural ties and much followed films and television serials, a rage in both urban and rural areas. The opulence of the Indian, traditionalist entertainment industry is a sort of pressure valve that works against the rigidity the Taliban or the Mujahideen has stood for, say those who follow the shows in Afghanistan. “This is how we used to be before the Taliban came. We loved to dress up. The woman, wearing a burkha, was obvious way for the Taliban to oppress us. The burkha is not an Afghan dress, it was actually banned in the 1960’s” says Ramika Ahmad, a member of the erstwhile Royal family, exiled during Russian and Taliban rule, who now lives in Kabul, sports a boycut and runs a successful construction company. And the struggle for an identity continues. With the country being so familiar with Indian customs, politicians in Afghanistan — fundamentalists included — have been debating whether Indian customs are a ‘threat’ to Afghan culture in parliament, and whether Indian shows and films should be allowed to continue. But it’s not just a cultural, non-fundamentalist identity the country has to think about. As a political entity Afghanistan is cornered: internally, while Iran sponsors its own leaders in the Western province of Hirat, the Taliban continues to be active in Kandahar and other southern and eastern provinces. The Hekmatiyar, another powerful faction, has strong roots in Pakistan. Meanwhile, international peacekeeping forces, the ISAF and the UN, tread a thin line in heavily guarded cities like Kabul. Last year saw a riot in Kabul after a rash foreign vehicle ran over citizens, a reminder of the frisson which exists under the shadow of the peacekeeping gun. It’s an uneasy situation, one that urgently needs to be worked around if the ordinary citizen has to be spared. The Taliban has mounted its suicide attacks in the country, with a main demand being withdrawal of foreign troops. “There isn’t much doubt that the ISAF has to stay in the country or we will go back to lawlessness,” says Abdullah Abdullah, former foreign minister to Karzai’s government. But, the country cannot be lazy about the international aid. “The ordinary Afghan has done a lot, and given up a lot, for peace. But even with the ISAF being here for some time, Afghanistan itself has not been able to achieve much.” Which brings us to the core of the issue. “What we are really looking for is the ‘Afghanisation’ of the development process, which is marking our own identity in the construction process,” he says. That Afghanisation is something people are looking forward to. The markets are a good indication: while the shops in Kabul look like US supermarkets, piled high with goods from the US, the really expensive, valuable goods are those which are made in Afghanistan and are ‘old’: antiques which have survived thirty years of war. When I ask for a new Afghan product, I am handled a ‘new’ bottle of mineral water. Nothing else. But hope flourishes. “We are waiting for our own industries to come up again,” says the shopkeeper, who has switched from Russian to German to US goods in his 35 years as shopkeeper. “I have seen a lot, but I hate the Taliban the most, as they didn’t let us work,” he adds. That’s a common sentiment the country needs to keep in mind, as it struggles to make Afghanisation set in.
