government, and I justified all their brutality and violence. In the west, they were praised as “freedom
fighters”. In Kabul, we believed that our suffering would be rewarded by support from the west to restore
that famous “independence” and “freedom”. We used to wait for United Nations resolutions with the hope
of seeing an end to the bloodshed that was all around us.
The trajectory was different. After the mujahideen rockets came the Taliban. Then US bombs – which
would mistake a wedding for a terrorist gathering. And now Isis.
Everyone speaks of their anger, including the current rulers. Shedding tears in public is now part of the
theatre and the on-going political drama which is Afghan life. What has changed since the 1979 Soviet
invasion? The promised “freedom” has come in the facade of fake elections and failed governments. The
much-loved independence has arrived in the form of a different kind of freedom: few tariffs on trade, little
accountability by those who control the country, and further bondage to the World Bank and the IMF.
Back in the early days of war, there was a sense of resilience and pride, however naively, amongst the
Afghans that one day their country would be on the path to stability and – again that favourite word –
progress. Now, a sense of utter fatigue and cynicism dominates the Afghan mind.
Instead there is what I can only call a regression in thinking – after the absence of the basic freedoms my
generation fought and died for. There is even a Taliban mentality inside the government – a peace treaty
has emerged with the Taliban which includes a deal that will reassert men’s right to connect their
patriarchal “honour” with the size of a woman’s scarf.
In this context, a suicide bomber targeting a “gathering of Mushrikeens [non-believers]” – in other words,
Shia Muslims – in the words of the Sunni Muslim Isis is nothing but a murderer’s curse.
Nelofer Pazira is an award-winning Afghan-Canadian director, actor, journalist and author