Fariba Nawa – AUTHOR AND JOURNALIST

Blog

  • Heading East Again

    12115675_10153062986341640_4150521813424441292_nIt’s safe, sunny and quiet. My girls go to a decent school. We own a home, a business and my extended family lives nearby. The largest Afghan community in the U.S. is here – Little Kabul in the San Francisco Bay Area. This multicultural, thriving hub buzzing with new technology is where I should belong.

    And I do belong. But it’s not the only place I belong. If we’re all part of a global village, then why are we so stuck in one place? As Americans, many of us have the means to move and become global citizens, to allow our children to see the world not just as tourists but as residents of different countries. We can immerse ourselves beyond the tourist traps and learn a new language, engage in a new culture, try a different education system.

    You may have to give up a few conveniences, rent out your house, hire someone else to run your business, take a sabbatical from your job. But for an American with a college degree and professional skills, work is not hard to find abroad. If nothing else materializes, you can teach English. What you lose in material comfort, you will gain in meaning.

    It’s not enough to facebook, text and tweet across the world. It’s not enough to visit for two weeks, clicking photos of old buildings and taking safaris. What creates meaning and empathy among people from different worlds is face-to-face interaction, the frustrations of daily life shared with those who are stuck there.

    But when I tell the suburbanites around me about my plan to explore the world with my family, they look at me blankly. “But this is the best you can get. Nowhere is a better place to raise kids,” one friend said. “You can get all the culture you want right here. Happiness is at your feet.”

    Other Americans say it’s exciting, but they’re too afraid to give up the life they’ve worked hard to build. Security comes first.

    The idea that happiness can be found in one place, and we must be rooted in one country defies the experience I’ve had as an exile. For me, home is a state of mind, as is happiness. I’ve lived in in some of the poorest countries and the people have been happier than they are in California. Maybe it’s easier for me to leave because I lost everything familiar as a 9-year-old when my parents fled the Soviet invasion in Afghanistan.

    The unfamiliar comforts me.

    But I understand why Americans stay put, especially those with children. The fear of the unknown can be paralyzing. We’re so used to our daily routines, so addicted on our Trader Joes, Montessori schools and yoga classes that we can’t imagine life elsewhere. It’s precisely this neurosis with routine that makes me want to leave the U.S. again.

    But this time, I’m nervous.

    As a single female journalist with no children, packing up and traveling was easy. Whether it was Egypt, Pakistan, Afghanistan or Australia, I didn’t think twice about what I was leaving behind. I just did it. I had nothing to lose. Now I do.

    As a mother of two girls, ages 4 and 7, I fear my daughters becoming sick, their education disrupted, their sense of home snatched from them. But I know if we treat children as fragile glass, we’ll never teach them resilience. If my husband Naeem and I give in to our fears, then we’ll be no different than the parents who run away from adventure. We want to instill a sense of adventure and the ability to embrace change in our girls.

    Also, as a foreign correspondent, there’s not much I can do in the Bay Area. After eight years here, it’s time for me to return to what I love doing – writing about the rest of the world for an English-speaking audience. I miss the chaos of a newsroom, investigating the unknown and exposing truths.

    We plan to live in Istanbul for now, where I can freelance, while I apply for full-time journalism work. If we like it, we’ll stick around, learn Turkish and try to give something back to Turkey. If not, we’ll return to the U.S. and resume our life. But we will have returned knowing that we are not trapped here, that we are not afraid to move and become global citizens.

    In order to love America, you have to leave it sometimes.

     

     

     

  • Justice for Afghanistan’s disappeared: Q and A with Dutch police

    On September 18, 2013, Dutch authorities released a death list of Afghanistan’s disappeared that threw Afghans into a frenzy. The list opened old wounds. Families held funerals and called for justice. There were nearly 5,000 of those on the list who disappeared under the communist regime from 1978-79. Brutal ruling regimes from the communists, the Mujahideen, the Taliban and the current Karzai government have been responsible for tens of thousands more war crimes in the last 35 years. A handful of Dutch detectives have taken charge of the issue and are calling for Afghans (and others) from all over the world to help them find and prosecute the Afghan criminals who live in Europe.

    I have written extensively about this issue because my own uncle was on the list, and this is a promised follow-up for families of victims. I hope this Q and A with Bertjan Tjeerde, the Dutch detective I have been in contact with, will answer some of the questions many Afghans have. 

    FN: Why did you release this list?

    Bertjan:  The list was published as it holds relevant information for Afghan people who have lost dear relatives or loved ones. The information was never properly communicated to the concerned people. As the suspect passed away prior to an arrest, no court proceedings were to take place and the list and documents were made public alternatively.

    FN: What is your jurisdiction?

    Bertjan:  In general, we can prosecute people who live in the Netherlands or who have the Dutch nationality. To prevent any misunderstanding, we cannot prosecute Afghan people who committed crimes in Afghanistan and still live there.  Of course, we sometimes come across information on possible perpetrators living outside of Holland, but somewhere else in Europe. Under certain circumstances, we actively share this information with that other country. Depending on the jurisdiction and legal framework of that country,  prosecution could take place.

    FN: Have you talked to Afghans inside Afghanistan and the government in charge to give you information about suspects and their crimes? If so, how have they helped?

    Bertjan:  Yes, we have talked to Afghans in Afghanistan. The Afghan authorities have been cooperative  in our investigations.

    FN: How can people provide evidence for you from afar, if they live in the U.S. or outside of Europe?

    Bertjan:  They can contact us by phone and/or email, of course. As mentioned before, we only have jurisdiction when the alleged perpetrators live in the Netherlands, and if this is not the case, we can only refer people to the possible relevant authorities. We take witness statements  on several locations, also outside of Holland.

     FN: What kind of evidence are you looking for?

    Bertjan:  In general, these kind of investigations hold two kinds of evidence people can provide: statements and documents. Of course in general, for a police investigation to begin, it requires the identification of a suspect or suspects.

    Depending on the kind of crime and its judicial qualification, authorities will have the possibility to prosecute or not. In general, cases of genocide, war crimes, torture and/or crimes against humanity can under certain circumstances be prosecuted. Please be aware that an investigation on war crimes requires great efforts and money for that matter. If crimes can simply not be proven, the start of an investigation is not likely.    

    FN: Can you offer protection for those who want to come forward? Will there be anonymity? If a case goes to trial, will witnesses be exposed to the media?

    Bertjan:  Anonymity and protection measures are not impossible but extremely rare in these kind of criminal investigations.

    FN: How many Afghan criminals have been convicted so far for war crimes?

    Bertjan: Three. One man in Britain and two in Holland. I can refer you to the website of Trial Watch. It concerns Mr. Zardad in the UK, Mr. Hesam and Mr. Jalalzoy in the Netherlands. 

    http://www.trial-ch.org/en/resources/trial-watch/trial-watch/profiles/profile/329/action/show/controller/Profile/tab/legal-procedure.html

    FN: You mentioned one man in Holland, Amanullah Osman, who admitted to being an interrogator and committing crimes, on the website you released the list. He died before you arrested him. Did he lead you to any other criminals? How many other suspects do you have in Europe?

    Bertjan:  We never spoke with Mr. Osman. As you can read in the statement of the prosecutor’s office, Mr. Osman did mention during his immigration procedure that he was in charge of  the interrogation department of AGSA. During the criminal investigation of the Dutch national police, other officials of the Afghan intelligence forces were identified. You will understand that I can and will not mention these names here for several reasons.

    FN: Are these suspects from the communist time, Mujahideen, Taliban or the latest government? You want to arrest and prosecute from any era as long as the evidence is there, correct?

    Bertjan: The investigation concerned the period of 1978-1979, so the  information and evidence we found are related to crimes that were committed  in that period. We are aware of the fact that crimes were committed during other regimes as well. If the suspect lives in the Netherlands and the case looks like it can be proven, yes. A crime is a crime.

    FN: There were a few names on the list of people who were not killed during that time but died later in exile, and a couple who are still alive today. And there are tens of thousands of others who were not on the list. Do you have access to any other lists?  

    Bertjan: We know that there are several sources mentioning lists. These sources often mention different numbers when it comes to the number of names on the lists. 

    FN: One list mentioned in New York Times which Najibullah gave to Lord Bethel, the British envoy, mentioned 11,000 names in 1989.

    Bertjan: The list we found existed of 154 pages, it lacked one page. We consider it to be the list given to Mr. Lord Bethell in 1989 in Afghanistan for a number of reasons. With the list, we found a note from the former Security Forces of the Republic of Afghanistan. This note is addressed to Mr. Lord Bethell, in those days he was the Vice-Chairman of the Human Rights Commission of the European Parliament. The note says that this list was introduced to the public during the time of Hafizullah Amin, mentioning the names of people killed in his reign. It also says that a lot of names were missing on the list. Unfortunately, the note holds no further specific information.

     We did do additional research concerning the list. The article in the NYT mentions the fact that the list given to Bethell should hold 11,000 names.

    Though Bethell unfortunately passed away in 2007, we found and talked to people who accompanied him on his journey to Afghanistan in 1989. They confirm that Lord Bethell received the list during this journey. One of the people present when the list was handed over told us that when they received the list, they never counted the number of names. “It was just said that there were 11.000 names on it.”

    I can refer you to the book of Mr. Nicholas Bethell titled “Spies and other Secrets.” You can also find information in the following link.

    http://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=1914&dat=19891110&id=jhAqAAAAIBAJ&sjid=FmUFAAAAIBAJ&pg=2596,2116283

    In this last article November 10, 1989, in the Sun Journal, you can read the names of Mr. Musa Shafiq and Mr. Noor Ahmad Etemadi. The names of Shafiq and Etemadi are not on the list we have. After the research we did, it remains unclear whether the list given to Mr. Lord Bethell actually held 11.000 names, or that it was just said to have 11,000 names.

    We can be convinced that the recently published list is the list as given to Lord Bethell. It nevertheless could be just a part of a larger list, however, we cannot be sure.

    We made considerable efforts to see whether the EU or people who were related to Mr. Bethell had additional lists/information, this was not the case unfortunately.

    If we receive any kind of additional information on the existence of further lists  and it would be of relevance in a criminal investigation, we will do additional research.

    FN: Were there any women on the list you released?

    Bertjan: There were women mentioned in the documents of AGSA and on the list as well.

    FN: How can Afghans form a tribunal to investigate war crimes in Europe? Is it possible to have a truth and reconciliation commission in Europe for Afghans? 

    Bertjan: I cannot answer this question. This is a political question, and it is not up to me to answer such a question.

    If  someone wants to file a complaint against someone,  it is his or her right to do so. This complaint should be addressed to the right authorized authorities, the one with jurisdiction.

    Please know that anyone who would like to know whether there is additional information on his/her family is welcome . We will try our best to help them, though possible answers are of course tough since so many years have passed by. We don’t want to raise false hope.  

    For more information or to file a complaint or evidence, please contact Bertjan Tjeerde at Bertjan.Tjeerde@klpd.politie.nl

     

     

     

     

  • Darya’s fate

    Today is International Women’s Day and I dedicate today to Darya, the heroine opium bride in Opium Nation. I found Darya after nine years of searching. She was 12 when I met her. She asked me to help save her from a forced marriage to a 46-year-old drug smuggler. She’s now 21. My book needs a new ending but until I write the magazine article, which will be the epilogue of Opium Nation when it goes into reprint, I say this to Darya:

    You are Afghanistan

    Broken, burdened and bartered

    You are Afghanistan

    Beautiful and bright

    You are Afghanistan

    Yearning for independence but ever so attached 

    You are Afghanistan

    Resilient and remarkable

    You are Afghanistan

    They say you will cease to exist, you will be fragmented and lost

    But I have found you and will never let them forget you.

  • Highlights from a year on book tour

    -Learning to speak to Italians via Google Translate. I got dozens of emails in Italian from readers who were touched by the book. In Italy, the book was published hardcover with a cover of a woman in niqab and titled The Afghan Wife. I had nothing to do with any of it except the words on the inside pages.

    -I discovered that when I speak on stage, people actually like to listen. All those years of being verbose with friends and family apparently paid off. So did public speaking class in high school. There’s not much to it. You face the audience, look them in the eye and open your soul.

    San Francisco Bay Area:

    -An Afghan-American activist threw a warm and welcoming book launch party at her house in the Haight. Good company with good food, and then a walk over to The Booksmith to talk about opium.  Junkies were enjoying their heroin right on Haight Street. Heroin use has skyrocketed in America, especially in the suburbs.

    -The biggest event was held in Fremont. I spoke in my mother tongue Farsi/Dari to 120 of my Afghan community members, including family and friends. Their presence was the icing on the cake. (We actually served Afghan cookie bread, cheese and crackers and tea.) Books sold out.

    -At Stanford University, a male student was most fascinated by my statement that Afghanistan has blonds. That’s what you get from one of California’s premier higher education institutions.

    -At Chabot Community College, veterans of Afghanistan attended and bought the book. They read it with interest and then emailed me their warm regards for the Afghan people.

    -I failed to show up to my talk for 75 students at San Francisco State University — a memory lapse. I realized two hours after the event that I missed it, but I went the following day the classes were held and students had done their homework. They googled me, asked smart questions and several came up to me to share their experiences with narcotics. One Mexican student said her immediate family had cut off contact with her extended relatives because they were involved in cartels. One student admitted he was a recovering heroin addict.

    -In the Santa Cruz Mountains on a speaking retreat, I focused on the personal story of an exile going home to find that home had vanished. Some empathized with tears and hugs.

     Washington DC:

    -Meeting the US Ambassador to Global Women’s Issues Melanne Verveer to discuss opium brides was a breakthrough for me because for the first time, policymakers would hear about the issue.

    -Sitting on a lone chair on the stage at Busboys and Poets bookstore to a full house while the light shined on me. I felt tall for once.

    -Doing an interview with FOX News was strange because I knew I would be on the opposing side of the political spectrum with most of their viewers. They have a good make-up team.

    -The Woodrow Wilson Center’s 60 turnout and media interest exceeded my expectations. I was star-struck sitting next to the director of the center Haleh Esfandiari, who had been imprisoned in Iran several years ago. I wanted to hear her talk more than me.  The book had not sold well until I made the trip to the East Coast where the press hooked on, from the Atlantic to Al Jazeera.

    -Four months later at a seminar on Afghan drugs, an Afghan man critiqued my book with much respect as he went over his underlined notes of Opium Nation. It was the first time an Afghan man had read the book in full and offered constructive criticism. I appreciated his efforts more than the praise I got.

    New York City:

    -Columbia University was awesome. During winter break on a Friday night, the room was packed. Sree Sreenivasan, a professor at the j-school and SAJA organizer, gathered a great team of journalists to welcome me and moderate the event. The publisher didn’t send a bookseller because they thought the attendance would be low. I had a dozen books with me and I donated the sale proceeds to Women for Afghan Women, an organization doing risky and honorable work in Afghanistan. I told the rest of the crowd to get it from their local bookstore.

    -Nine months later I returned to do two events on September 11 at NYU, my alma mater, and the Huge Center in Brooklyn. The turnout was low but the few who showed up took great interest in the subject. I went to NY the second time to lobby for awareness about opium brides and it’s a longterm project of mine still in the works.

    Portland:

    I took my nursing baby and she began screaming in the middle of my presentation at prestigious Powell’s Bookstore. I turned red but continued to talk as my cousin/babysitter eventually took her to another room. One woman who bought a book said, “I was most impressed with how you kept going during the baby’s screams.” Afterwards, I rushed to find her smiling and happy with my cousin.

    Seattle:

    I presented at the public library. A caring group of old and young attended with intelligent questions. The librarian gave me a tour of this library, which happens to be one of the largest in the world. I could hibernate there with my entire family. Loved the fall colors and the beauty of the city. The local press took no interest. Tozza Fikhom, as Egyptians would say.

    Los Angeles

    I made four trips to LA this year. One turned into a vacation with the family. Most memorable were the events with other authors like Eduardo Santiago, Lisa Napoli, Dana Johnson and Naomi Benaron. The majority of those who attended were older women, a demographic who still read hard copy and appreciate an author signature. The events benefitted charity and included auctions and a meal. I wish there were more of these in the Bay Area. In both events, women asked how I worked up the courage to travel to danger zones and report. Curiosity and a sense of adventure, but I wouldn’t take the same risks now because my life as a mother matters more. I began my talks in LA with: “I like LA because it’s the only city I don’t have to explain my hair color.” They laughed. Phew … my feeble attempt at comedy.

    Phoenix and Tucson

    I was afraid of Arizona because it’s notorious in the media as a conservative state anti everything I believe in. And visiting there confirmed the politics but I was surprised at the international presence of the student body. I met an Afghan Marxist who inhales books, a Mormon couple with a backyard reminiscent of my childhood. They had pomegranate and mulberry trees with a pool and Afghan gilims hanging on their walls. An 82-year-old Afghanistan expert, one of the first Americans to specialize in the country, attended one of the events with a cane and his wife by his side. I spoke at three universities in Phoenix and Tucson, the audience ranged from senior citizens in Mesa to business students in Thunderbird and Middle Eastern Studies students at the University of Arizona. Each event was well attended and in Tucson, one student inquired about American involvement in heroin trafficking from Afghanistan. I wish I had the evidence to comment on that. Some soldiers are returning addicted, but I don’t have the proof that Americans are trafficking it to the US. If you have any evidence, contact me. Most of the US’ heroin comes from Mexico and it’s becoming purer, deadlier, and cheaper, resulting in an increase in overdoses in recent years.

    Skyping around the world

    Skype video talks for University of Indiana, Bloomington, University of Pennsylvania and press interviews proved to be convenient but lacked human contact. A class on human trafficking sent me 19 pages of questions on how young girls were being trafficked and forced into prostitution in Afghanistan. I tried to answer some of them but not being able to look them in the eye and involve them in the presentation seemed ineffective. UPenn students who organized the International Development Conference asked me to participate in a discussion on post conflict governance. Technical difficulties made the discussion funny and frustrating with the other two panelists who were present in Philly. I talked but couldn’t hear. They listened but couldn’t comment.

    Comments and reviews:

    Keep them coming on Amazon or Goodreads. That’s the best way to give me feedback. 

  • Reflections of a year on book tour

    From New York to Los Angeles, Seattle to Phoenix, to the nation’s capital, I stood before Americans for the last year and told the story of Afghanistan’s drug trade, the story of its women, its drug lords, its heroes and criminals. I told my own story of an exile returning to my homeland, traveling in the region for seven years and finally, bidding farewell to Afghanistan. But my spirit’s still there.

    After dozens of talks at bookstores, libraries, universities, on TV shows and radio programs, I spoke to whoever listened, reminded them that even though American troops will be leaving Afghanistan, Americans still should care. Why? Because it’s too easy to forget, and too deadly. The two countries are intertwined now, should be a part of each others’ conscience. Eleven years so far, 2000 US troops dead, thousands of Afghans slaughtered and an Afghanistan still in chaos. How can you forget?

    In ritzy Carmel, people laughed at my quips and in hippie Portland, they cried at the tales of indignity and desperation facing Afghan girls and women today. Most Americans asked, “What can I do to help Afghans?” Become aware, do not stop reading about Afghanistan, become involved through a charity, and if you dare, go there and train Afghans in a professional field. Whatever you do, do not bury the story of Afghanistan just in the pages of history.

    If I’ve become preachy, it’s out of desperation. The US has a short memory span – the places and people it bombs disappear from public discourse as the next international crisis develops. It’s a nagging calling for me to stop the amnesia, and this book tour gave me that chance. I was bursting to share what I had witnessed in Afghan villages from the mountains to the deserts. Speaking up was cathartic.

    Some would say perhaps it’s better for the US to stop meddling and forget. I know better. The Afghan civil war of the 1990s was the result of that American abandonment.

    Did all those words repeated to thousands of ears do any good? You tell me.

    Critics praised Opium Nation and I beamed. I worked for seven years against all odds to make sure the stories reached the world. I lost money to write this book.  I risked my life to get the details, to hear the stories few were reporting. It became a bestseller in Australia, a PEN award finalist in the US, and something to talk about over dinner in Italy. Some readers called it “corny” while others loved it. The most supportive and most critical were Afghans in the US and abroad.

    They were hurt and shocked at the title. Tired of all the negative headlines in foreign news, how could one of their own title her book Opium Nation, as if Afghanistan had nothing else to offer. I understand the critiques. I explained over and over that the publisher chose the title. My choice: Where the Poppies Bloom – that became a chapter title. The fact that Afghanistan supplies 90 percent of the world’s opiates did not help my case. Some Afghan men who attended my talks stood up to deny that opium brides are a real problem, one man verbally attacked me in a library and another wrote a column defaming my name and work. Incidentally and not accidentally, they were all men.

    But the majority of Afghans encouraged me, gave me a voice in the Afghan media and shared the book and its stories with family and friends.

    This last year was filled with a flurry of moments and a mix of emotions: exhilaration, exhaustion and exasperation. It was my first book and I had no idea what to expect. But I wouldn’t take back any of it.

    The success of the book matters somewhat, but if I could save one opium bride from being sold into slavery, if I could convince one addict to stop using heroin, if I could help one farming family to wean from poppy cultivation, then my hard work will have been worth it. My job as a journalist is to simply tell the story, but my job as an Afghan, as a human being is to be an advocate of justice for those who opened up to me, let me into their homes and pleaded for help.


  • Why I voted for Obama

    Obama’s foreign policy decisions do not impress me. But Obama’s foreign policy record is another blog. I didn’t vote for him because he’s bringing peace or resolution to the world.

    I voted for Obama because inside the US, he’s doing what must be done to heal the country. He’s trying to regulate the economy while the Republicans continue to support big business and reduce the middle class. He supports human rights, recognizing that women are in charge of their own bodies, gays should have the right to marry and every person has a right to healthcare. He has made mistakes – the bank bailouts were not effective – but he has acted on most of his promises.

    Even in Afghanistan, Obama promised a troop surge and he delivered. The fact that the surge failed to weaken the insurgency is an 11-year-old story that began with Bush, as did so much of the mess Obama inherited.

    I’m hoping that in the next four years, he’ll tackle the demise of the middle class, implement his healthcare policy and cut military spending. Let’s see if he delivers.

  • Response to critiques of ‘How Iran controls Afghanistan’

    Afghans who read my article “How Iran controls Afghanistan” for Foxnews.com in January critiqued the piece, and the Hazaras took particular offense.  I promised a response — it took awhile due to health issues I’ve been struggling with, but here it is.

    My article is a short opinion piece focused on how Iran influences Afghanistan based on my own travels and experiences. I discuss how Afghans returning from Iran have culturally changed Afghanistan as well as touch on Iran’s political meddling in my homeland. It was not meant to be an academic analysis or documented study of the issue. I traveled for seven years through Afghanistan, Iran and Pakistan and spoke to people from all echelons of society. That is my evidence, my eyewitness accounts.  

    My words were taken out of context and misunderstood in the critiques, and this was partially my fault for not being clear in my writing. This is the paragraph that was in my head but not written, and it should’ve been included: “One of the positive outcomes of the last ten years has been the advancement of the Hazara people in Afghanistan. Despite the hardships they faced in Iran, they persevered to become a success once they returned home. They are now politicians, performers and businessmen. Their women are brave enough to stand up to conservative clerics as TV anchors and singers.”

    That graf might’ve made the big difference in how this article was perceived. I wrote this with that intention but it was perceived that I’m prejudiced against the Hazaras. I meant no prejudice or harm against any ethnic group or religion.

    Also, some readers mentioned that I called these returnees counterfeit Afghans. This is a complete misreading of the English language. An internal tension between those who stayed and those who have returned to Afghanistan exists and some of those who never migrated call the returnees derogatory names because they are resentful. I do not call the returnees anything negative. My critics ignored parts of the article that gave it context. I mentioned that I was not comfortable with the cultural changes, like my mother’s not comfortable with a digital camera or Facebook. Change is imminent, but we have to confront that change and I write about my own internal struggle to do so. Yet, I explicitly say that the returnees should NOT be punished for bringing this change to Afghanistan. I was clear that the cultural change was a natural and fluid process, and that Afghans need to accept it. I have also written about how Afghan-Americans are treated and how those who never left Afghanistan resent them. This article was about Iran/Afghanistan and that’s why I focused on the Hazaras and returnees in general. If you read the article, I mention that my husband, who’s a Tajik, was one of these returnees.

    I write about various issues as a journalist. I do not discriminate. Pakistan trains and harbors radical Sunnis. We Afghans are the pawns — we’re being used and influenced — and that’s why the article ends with Afghans need to stand united against the meddling of their neighbors. I’ve been critiquing Pakistani meddling in Afghanistan in all of my book interviews but I feel like Iran’s role has not been sufficiently discussed.  

    Iran plays a key role in supporting radical elements of Shiites in Afghanistan and I have witness accounts to back this up. The New York Times as well as the premier Afghan newspaper Hasht-e Sobh have written about the specifics of Iran’s clandestine and harmful interventions in Afghanistan. What I failed to mention is that Iran doesn’t only support Shiites but any group that may contribute to the instability of Afghanistan. 

    I do not call anyone a spy, as one irate critic who dedicated an entire blog to slandering my name, wrote. Indeed, I mention in the article that “few” of the returnees have political connections to Iran. It would be irresponsible to dismiss that these few Afghans are aiding the neighboring countries divide their homeland. I do not “hate” Iranian culture as this blogger suggested. Our two countries share a rich history and language that I treasure, but I like the cultural nuances in the region and it’s those variations that are disappearing or morphing into an unfamiliar culture for me.

    Ignoring the tensions that exist inside the country doesn’t solve any problems. For those critics who said I was dividing the country … the country’s already divided. I believe in raising awareness about divisions and unity, and I will continue to do that in my writing.

    Lastly, I was blasted for writing for FOX. I understand the distaste for FOX. I’m not fond of FOX, but it’s an outlet of information and the most popular source of news. It fit the network’s agenda to attack Iran — I realize that – but it also served my purpose, which was to condemn the Iranian government for causing havoc in Afghanistan.

     Thank you for your interest in my work and writings. I welcome constructive criticism and will respond to that. Any verbal attacks and false slanders I will duly ignore.

    Below are links to articles I mentioned above:

    How Iran Controls Afghanistan

    http://www.foxnews.com/opinion/2012/01/25/how-iran-controls-afghanistan/

    Farsi/Dari discussion of the New York Times article

    http://www.radiofarda.com/content/f3_iran_provokes_chaos_afghanistan/24539815.html

    Farsi/Dari Hasht-e Sobh articles on Iran-Afghanistan

    http://8am.af/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=24742%3A1391-01-11-15-03-00&catid=1%3Atitle&Itemid=553

    http://8am.af/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=24813%3A1391-01-13-15-30-01&catid=3%3A2008-10-31-09-37-07&Itemid=554

     

     

  • The dangers of traveling through Afghanistan’s drug trail

    For five years, I traveled on the bumpy roads of Afghanistan discovering the underworld of the illicit narcotics trade. I had many close calls with death, mostly having to do with bad drivers and bombed out highways, but I survived to write my book Opium Nation, just released by HarperPerennial. My biggest fear was not being killed, but being kidnapped on Afghanistan’s opium trail. When you’ve embarked on a dangerous project, you take calculated risks, block out the danger factor from your mind, and throw yourself to the wind.

    One of my first calls with peril occurred on a cross-country trip in 2002 from Kabul to Herat. It was me, a Spanish journalist, and a German photographer –all women–riding in a taxi with a driver from Kandahar who smoked hashish for half of the trip. As he blew smoke out the window, men in black turbans with Kalashnikovs stopped our taxi. They were not the police or foreign troops because they were not wearing a uniform so therefore, they were either Taliban or road bandits charging illegal road tolls, known for preying on foreign aid workers and journalists. My Spanish colleague took out her satellite phone ready to call an emergency number, while our stoned driver reassured us. My heart raced, but I also felt a rush of excitement. The driver and armed men exchanged some greetings in Pashto, then the driver handed one of them the equivalent of a dollar in Afghan currency and off we went.

    “That was it?” I asked the driver. “They don’t want to kidnap us?”

    “No. I told them you were poor writers,” he smirked. “They just wanted their toll.”

     Wow, that was cheaper than the Bay Bridge or Golden Gate.           

    But that was right after the U.S. had ousted the Taliban. The risks became real in 2005 when the insurgency gained ground and I headed back south again, this time to Helmand province—the frontline.  The British were fighting rebels, many who were opium traffickers, and I traveled in a burqa by taxi again to the district where mostly everyone was either Taliban or a Taliban sympathizer. This time, it was just me with a sober driver from Kandahar and a cagey guide from Helmand. I was in search of a young girl, an opium bride who was sold into marriage to a smuggler, who had brought her to Helmand. My guide showed residents a photo of her husband while I stayed in the taxi. We failed to find them during the day so we spent the night there at my guide’s relative’s house. The next day, the men in the house figured out that I was not just an Afghan woman visiting relatives, which is what I had told the townspeople. And that’s when the trouble started.

     

  • Why the Taliban Is Still My Enemy

    Whatever Joe Biden says, for the women who were beaten, forced to quit school, and bartered in marriage, and civilians who were deprived of freedom, the extremist group remains a threat to humanity and progress, says Afghan-American author Fariba Nawa.

     

    The Taliban may no longer be America’s enemy but they remain an enemy to me—an Afghan-American woman who was nearly kidnapped by them. They became my enemy when they beat my grandmother in 2000, bruising her back. They forced my cousin, a medical student, to quit school and sit at home for six years. They forced my aunt to stop teaching and open a secret school. When the doors of the school opened, my aunt shivered in fear. If the United States is negotiating an end to war with the Taliban, I plead those negotiations do not mean the end of freedom for Afghan women.

    Vice President Joe Biden’s words are not a surprise, because from the beginning the U.S. tried to negotiate with the Taliban to get Osama bin Laden. When the Taliban didn’t or couldn’t hand over bin Laden because al Qaeda and the Pakistani military had more control in Afghanistan than the Taliban, these so-called students also became a target for the war. Now that bin Laden’s dead and al Qaeda weakened, the U.S. no longer can justify its losing war.

    Civilian Afghans knew little about al Qaeda’s role in terrorism or its hatred toward the U.S. They thought the U.S. was coming to save them from the Taliban, whose ideas were foreign to urban Afghans. My cousins stood on their roofs watching American bombs fall on Taliban military posts in Herat province like it was Fourth of July. Many Americans think that the Taliban’s practice of Islam is a part of Afghanistan’s tradition, but the group actually is a modern political movement born out of the proxy war the United States and the Soviet Union fought inside Afghanistan.

    My memories are of a happy childhood ruptured by war. One day I played in my grandfather’s orchard picking pomegranates and grapes, on another day I witnessed my classmate die in a school bombing. I was 9 years old when my family fled the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. We settled in the U.S., but I returned 18 years later, in 2000, when the Taliban reigned, to visit my relatives. My cousins defied the ban on music and sang and played music, but in the morning, they whispered, frightened that the Taliban would raid their home. The psychological fear debilitated any progress or learning in the cities. I returned after the Taliban ouster in 2002, and stayed for the next five years to witness the changes propelled by the American intervention. Afghan men and women thought peace had come—along with jobs, education, and freedom.

    In some provinces, life is better, especially for women. Millions of girls are going to school for the first time, women are in the government, back to teaching, running businesses, and have access to basic health care. Reports that violence against women has risen can be seen as a positive sign, because it means women actually are reporting the violence. During the Taliban time, that violence was state-sponsored.

    But in the southern provinces—the frontline of the U.S.-Taliban war—women’s lives are in greater danger. The Taliban have systematically assassinated women who work to help other women in Kandahar. In 2005 I was working on my book, Opium Nation, and traveled to Helmand province in search of a young girl, who had been bartered in marriage to an opium smuggler. My guide took me to a house he thought was safe. The men of the house claimed to be Taliban and said if they had not known my guide, they would’ve punished me for traveling without a male relative. (Some interpretations of Islam mandate that a woman can travel only with a male relative.) These men also suspected I was coming from the West and wanted to kidnap me. My guide, who was related to them, talked them out of it. The women I met in Helmand left the house with a male relative only to go to the doctor’s. They spent their hours inside their compounds. I met two women married to the same man who said they wanted to go shopping, to see Kabul, and to learn how to read and write. But they were afraid of the Taliban, who controlled their district.

    I understand the need for the U.S. government to change the language of war when Americans and the world are tired of fighting in Afghanistan, and when the current Afghan government is corrupt and inept. After Sept. 11, people called the war inside Afghanistan an intervention; now that has changed to occupation. If the Taliban no longer are the enemy, they are still a threat to humanity, to any form of progress. If a political agreement is reached to include them in the Afghan government, that pact must preserve rights for women.

    The political complexities and changing alliances mean little to my relatives and friends inside Afghanistan—the women are now doctors, artists, and journalists. The men are Fulbright scholars, TV hosts, and musicians. If the Taliban return unchecked, those people will be out of work with no livelihood, and these 10 years of fighting will have been futile.

  • Poop, projectile and poppies

    I’m learning to manage a 3-year-old, an infant and a career — a juggling act that women in the workplace have been practicing in the U.S. for the last 60 years. With my first book on the Afghan poppy trade about to launch, marketing is a full-time job. But my motherly duties come first. Just when I think I have a system in place, it all falls apart.  So if you’re a mother and professional, let me know your successful system.

    I have help from a friend and sometimes from my husband. I also work from home so it shouldn’t be that hard to get things done, but I’m often in slow motion. Here’s a day in the life:

    Morning:    

    After I pick up my oldest from pre-school, I sit Andisha, my 6-month-old darling daughter, in her green Bumbo chair while Bonoo, my devlish 3-year-old, plays with her toys in her room. Great time to get some work done. Laptop is opened to my email. Three sentences, then there’s a big noise – in the family, we call it an explosion.  The baby is smiling wide and wagging her arms in sheer relief. The Bumbo chair somehow causes these big bowel movements that need immediate attention. I stop working to attend to diaper duty.

    Bonoo skips downstairs to where we are and I ask her to help me. She brings a diaper, the cream and wet wipes and I find some clean clothes for Andisha. Then I sit the baby in my lap, holding her with one hand while I type with the other. Bonoo puts on a Bollywood CD and Andisha grabs at my chest. Baby wants to nurse, toddler wants me to clap while she dances. I shut the laptop. Maybe during naptime I can write that email.

    Naptime

    Bonoo’s asleep on our bed after 30 minutes of intense conversation with her imaginary friends. It’s time for Andisha to nap too so I should be able to get those emails done.  I put her down, but she’s being fussy. Let her cry it out. I turn on the laptop and continue that email. Then I hear a coughing sound from Andisha, she’s turning red. I quickly pick her up and the next thing I feel is wetness on my shoulder — my NYU sweatshirt soaked in milky projectile. It came so speedily that there was no escape. No problem. I’ll write that email after they’re both asleep at night. Now I have to change my clothes and the baby’s.

    Night

    Dinner is done, both girls are down for the night and I’m sitting in front of my laptop with a cup of green tea. Yes, now I can finish that email. “Dear (bookstore events coordinator)” … my eyes are closing, my brain is shutting down, my back is aching. There’s always tomorrow. Now it’s time for this tired career woman to get some sleep. Good night all.