KABUL - Dead monuments mean more in
Afganistan's Bamiyan province than living people.
The Taliban's destruction of the two giant
Buddhas in 2001 put Bamiyan squarely on the map of
international public consciousness. With
widespread outrage at the annihilation of the
colossal, centuries-old structures, money has
since poured in for the preservation of the site,
and the fragments of the Buddhas are being
collected and preserved. While that effort is
creditable, what
is unfortunate is the
continuing neglect of the people of the area. The
inhabitants, whose ancestors built and preserved
the
structures, are today
one of the most neglected communities in all
Afghanistan.
In 2003 "the cultural
landscape and archeological remains of the Bamiyan
Valley" were officially inscribed on the World
Heritage list on an emergency basis. The
stabilization of the crumbling "great cliff" where
the Buddhas were situated, the preservation of the
niches with their imprints of the Buddhas,
collection of the fragments, preventing theft and
preserving the cave paintings were identified as
priorities to prevent further destruction through
man and natural causes.
The United Nations
Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization
(UNESCO) defines "cultural landscapes" as those
that "represent the combined works of nature and
man". The historic system of irrigation, which has
created an intricate pattern of green and yellow
terraces, fields on the floor of the Bamiyan
Valley, and the "vernacular" architecture using
traditional designs and materials were also
considered to be part of the unique heritage. The
holistic appreciation of the entire area with all
its components will certainly make the World
Heritage Site much more complete, and a master
plan has been prepared to look into all the
issues.
However, five years after the
ouster of the Taliban and three and a half years
after the declaration of the World Heritage Site,
the people of Bamiyan still feel neglected and
ignored.
The reasons for this are several.
The Bamiyan area in the central highlands of the
country is home to the Hazaras, the ethnic group
that is the lowest in the social order of
Afghanistan. The Hazaras are Shi'ites, a religious
minority in Afghanistan. The descendents of Mongol
or Turkic groups who settled there; they are also
racially distinct and have been severely
segregated by the other communities.
The
Bamiyan area saw horrific massacres of the Hazara
population after it fell to the Taliban. Angered
by the resistance, including an attack by the
Hizb-e-Wahadat that represents the Hazara
community, the Taliban massacred 200 ordinary
people in Yakawlang in early 2001. Estimates also
suggest that a scorch-and-burn policy in several
villages left at least 1,000 Hazaras dead, with
four mass graves discovered in Bamiyan town alone.
Traditionally Hazaras were forced to do menial
jobs, while the dominant positions were held by
the Pashtun and Tajik communities.
It is a
dominance that the people of Bamiyan feel
continues to dominate decision-making, denying
them the benefits of aid and development. "People
at the decision-making level are not so keen to
support Bamiyan," said Amir Fuladi, an adviser to
the governor of Bamiyan, Habiba Sarobi.
Afghanistan's first and only female
governor, Sarobi is more reticent. She does not
agree that there is discrimination against the
Hazara community, but agrees that if the neglect
continues, such accusations may indeed appear to
be true.
Bamiyan pays a high price for the
neglect. The central highlands are geographically
isolated. Being in the middle of the country, the
province has no revenue from border trade. There
are no industries in the area, which is almost
completely dependent on agriculture and animal
herding.
"The province is isolated and
there is no road accessibility," said Fuladi. "The
entire province does not have one meter of asphalt
road."
The roads connecting Bamiyan to the
capital Kabul are little more than broad dirt
tracks, potholed and bumpy. What could be a
distance of two to three hours takes anything from
eight to 12 hours, provided the vehicle is a
four-wheel-drive well equipped with spare tires.
Flights to Bamiyan, even if they were affordable,
are only provided by the UN or by Paktec, which
serves non-governmental organizations. There are
no flights for ordinary travelers.
With no
local industry and bad roads, getting materials to
Bamiyan is extremely difficult, said Fuladi,
pointing out that in this area, at an altitude of
2,500 meters, even the construction season is
extremely short - five months. The lack of road
connectivity also prevents any significant revenue
generation from the agricultural produce and
animal husbandry as nothing can be exported out of
the province.
Asked to list her priorities
for the province, Sarobi said: "Roads, roads and
roads." She compared the province's situation with
the millions being spent on road building in the
south and wonders why nothing reaches her area.
After three years of promises to the people of the
province, President Hamid Karzai inaugurated a
road-building project three weeks ago, but how
soon that connectivity is achieved remains to be
seen.
The main reason for the neglect,
many in the province feel, lies in security.
Bamiyan today is one of the most secure areas of
the country, and Sarobi and others feel the
province is paying a price for this. All attention
in the country is focused on the areas now facing
insurgency. Even while the international community
and the government chant the mantra of how
difficult it is to provide development in insecure
areas, one sees no signs that areas that are
relatively secure are benefiting. Rather than set
an example by developing Bamiyan, which could be
seen as a model of the stakes of peace, the
province is not considered worthy of attention.
"Because we have security here, there is a
lack of attention," said Fuladi. "Stability or
security has no advantage for us."
But
security may deteriorate, he said, if the
relations between the government and the community
continue to deteriorate as people get more and
more angry. "There should be a change of strategy.
They should support a stable and safe area so that
people feel that peace leads to development."
The amount of corruption and misuse of
resources in a stable area is also very little, he
says. Pointing out that millions of dollars are
being spent on provinces in the south, Fuladi also
compares the lack of aid in his area to the aid
pouring into the much smaller province of
Panjshir, an area that many believe was made into
a separate province for political rather than
administrative reasons.
"We are thinking
of burning down some paper schools as a symbolic
protest," said Abdullah Barat, a founding member
of the Bamiyan Preservation Association for
Cultural Heritage, in a cynical reference to the
burning down of schools in the southern provinces.
Though there is no indigenous base for the
Taliban in Bamiyan, what is dangerously missing
from the area is a stake in peace. Though the area
may not create new Taliban forces, there is also
likely to be less resistance to anti-government
forces than before. The area has actually seen
demobilization and disarmament as opposed to other
areas such as Panjshir that merely claim to have
demobilized, and people in Bamiyan would not be
able to put up stiff resistance. Moreover, what is
currently merely the anger of the disgruntled may
in future turn into support for any instability.
Anti-government elements who choose to operate in
the area may not find the people unwilling hosts.
Bamiyan has also seen a sharp drop in
cultivation of opium poppies. According to the
United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC),
Bamiyan has seen a reduction in the area under
poppy cultivation from 803 hectares in 2004 to 17
hectares this year.
Advocating solutions
for decreasing poppy cultivation, which has risen
by 60% in the country this year, UNODC chief
Antonio Maria Costa says in a recent report that
"drug and integrity" conditions have to be
inserted into aid programs. "The more vigorously
district and provincial leaders commit themselves
to activity free of opium, the more they deserve
generous development assistance," he said.
But sentiments such as these are mere
rhetoric to the people of Bamiyan, who see no such
linkages in their area. "The message here is: no
poppy, no money," said an international worker in
the province.
Referring to the province's
lack of leverage at the political level, Fuladi
said bitterly: "It doesn't really matter [to
others] whether Bamiyan is a hell or a heaven. It
is so isolated."
The neglect is especially
unfortunate since the area is also the most
liberal area in the country in terms of its
attitude toward woman. Women move relatively
freely, wearing colorful clothes rather than the
burqa, engaging in work openly. Yet the
area gets no credit for this even though the issue
of gender justice is one of the main issues that
occupy the international community's agenda - at
least on paper.
"We have peace. No
narcotics. Bamiyan can also be an example of the
success of women's rights if I can succeed. Why
don't they support me?" wonders Governor Sarobi,
saying much of the talk about women's rights is
just lip service.
It is not just neglect
that makes the tale of Bamiyan a poignant one. The
designation of the area as a world heritage site
has meant that even normal development,
construction of buildings and markets, is at a
standstill since there is no room for "unplanned"
development. The designation of the entire area as
a cultural and historical landscape has meant that
all growth must now devolve on the adoption of the
master plan. However, as yet there is no
coordination, planning or funding for the master
plan and even the perimeter boundary of the
heritage site is yet to be finalized.
Protection of the vernacular architecture,
the beautiful terraced fields and of course the
area around the Buddhas has meant that people will
have to wait for permissions before building or
altering anything. Is Bamiyan being held hostage
to its heritage? Sarobi admits that this is a
widespread feeling among people in her province
and an issue she plans to raise at the next
meeting of the international coordination
committee on Bamiyan.
There is no tangible
benefit to the people yet, admits UNESCO expert
Junko Okahashi, assistant program specialist for
the Asia and Pacific World Heritage Center, who
flew into Bamiyan for a week, though she said it
is not too late and that things have to start now.
It is not that there are no
non-governmental or UN organizations working in
Bamiyan. There were at least 40 by the last count.
However, their efforts are piecemeal,
uncoordinated and, indeed, in some cases,
counterproductive. In the absence of basic
infrastructure, the outcome of these projects,
however beneficial, has a limited impact.
The issue is not whether the people come
first or the monuments. It would be tragic to see
further deterioration of great historical
heritage, which once lost cannot be retrieved. A
successful implementation of the "master plan" is
expected to change the fortunes of the locals -
eventually. The concern is whether the current
efforts at preservation can be combined with
community-oriented programs that engage the
community in this heritage, building stakes in the
local community simultaneously.
"People
have no sense of ownership right now," said
Fuladi. While the living wait, the international
community and organizations pore over the pieces
of monuments.
Aunohita Mojumdar
is an Indian journalist who is currently based in
Kabul. She has reported on the South Asian region
for 16 years and has covered the Kashmir conflict
and post-conflict situation in Punjab
extensively.
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