The Taliban's power in Pakistan continues to grow and it now has entire towns under its control. Under U.S. pressure, the Pakistani army is fighting the Islamists - with limited success. Pakistani intelligence says the Americans are doing more harm than good.
Back when Qari Zainuddin still believed that he could win this war, he stood in front of his office in the Pakistani town of Dera Ismail Khan, surrounded by masked men, each of them with an AK-47 at the ready. A few white doves cooed as the sun blazed down on the flat brick buildings.
Zainuddin, 26, a powerfully built Taliban commander, was wearing a shimmering, gold-colored cap over his dark hair and a Palestinian scarf wrapped loosely around his shoulders. He was speaking into the microphones of the journalists he had invited.
He wrinkled his brow and said quietly that Baitullah Mehsud was no holy warrior, but just an "ordinary terrorist." A few days earlier Mehsud, who was chosen as the leader of the Pakistani Taliban by an alliance of militant Islamist groups and who has committed the largest number of attacks on civilians, soldiers and security forces in his home country, had ordered his men to kill more than 40 people in a mosque. He wants to bring down the government in Islamabad and transform Pakistan into an emirate, just as the Taliban across the border intend to do in Afghanistan. Now Zainuddin was saying that he and his followers, of which he claimed there were 3,000, were going to "destroy" Mehsud.
Qari Zainuddin was dead two days later. A bodyguard, one of Mehsud's mercenaries who had infiltrated Zainuddin's ranks, shot him in his sleep.
The news of Zainuddin's death spread like wildfire through Pakistan's North West Frontier Province. The implicit message was that the same fate would await anyone who defies Mehsud or even goes as far as to align himself with the Pakistani army.
Aggressive Leadership
The Taliban has become so powerful in Pakistan that it can afford internecine battles for dominance. At the same time, the Pakistani army, fired up by the U.S. government, is waging a war against the religious militants in the rugged, inhospitable and hard-to-control border region in the northwest. Islamabad's military offensive has prompted the Taliban to withdraw, and yet it is also expanding its radius deep into the country's interior, reaching as far as major cities like Lahore, Karachi and Islamabad.
Day after day, they attack and kill police officers and soldiers, and day after day suicide bombers blow themselves up in markets and mosques. They have committed 218 attacks in the North West Frontier Province this year alone. The death toll from terrorist attacks in Pakistan is now higher than the number of civilian deaths in the war across the border in Afghanistan.
Pakistan has become synonymous with the threat of terrorism to the world. Americans like Admiral Michael Mullen, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, are urging the government in Islamabad to practice "aggressive leadership," and they want the Pakistani army to crush and kill the extremists on Pakistani soil. The United States sees the prolonged offensive by Pakistani armed forces in the Swat Valley as the prelude to a long and bloody conflict.
The new strategy stems from General David Petraeus, the head of United States Central Command. As he did in Iraq, Petraeus, a cool-headed intellectual, intends to stop the "spiral downward" in the war zone which American strategists are now referring to as AfPak. If Petraeus has his way, the Taliban and al-Qaeda will also be defeated in Pakistan, which they repeatedly use as a safe haven after fighting in Afghanistan. For more than two months, the Pakistani army has been battling a leader of the radical Islamic Taliban in the Swat Valley.
In return, the Taliban is expanding the combat zone, leaving a trail of blood with attacks across the entire country, from Kashmir in the north to Karachi in the south. Pakistan is not collapsing, but it is being consumed by violence and undermined by the fear that anyone, at any time, can fall victim to the next attack.
Maulana Hassan Jan, a religious scholar from Peshawar near the Afghan border, resisted the orgy of violence that is destroying his country. He issued a fatwa against suicide attacks, calling them "un-Islamic". The Taliban killed him. Maulana Sarfraz Naeemi, the prominent director of a Koran school who had also spoken out against the militant extremists, was killed in a suicide bombing.
Keeping the Demons in Check
No other politician has more influence in the religious arena than Maulana Fazal-ur Rehman, the head of the powerful Islamist party Jamiat Ulema-e-Islam (JUI). He knows Taliban leader Mullah Omar and al-Qaeda leader Osama bin Laden personally, and it is said that there are no extremists Rehman could not get in contact with if he wanted to.
With his bright orange turban and rotund stomach under his loose-fitting shirt, Rehman looks like a grand vizier in an old painting. He receives visitors in his parliamentary office in Islamabad, with its expansive leather armchairs and red teak furniture.
It's been a long time since there was a government in Pakistan where the JUI was not disproportionately represented. Even though the JUI secured only 2.2 percent of the vote in the last parliamentary election, it has three cabinet ministers in the current administration.
Rehman's power is derived from a network of hundreds of Koran schools run by members of the JUI, where poor children not only learn to read and write, but also learn about the obligation to wage jihad.
Every government has bought itself Rehman's favor with attractive posts and costly gifts, hoping that the popular cleric would keep his demons in check.
If he raised his voice against Baitullah Mehsud, it would have an impact, but he would also be placing himself in danger. Instead, he downplays Mehsud and his forces by portraying them as a couple of hooligans up to mischief in the country's northwest.
Rehman is from Dera Ismail Khan, a city in the mountainous northwest of the country. There, in the tribal areas, the al-Qaeda leadership around the Egyptian Ayman al-Zawahiri are believed to be hiding.
Dera Ismail Khan is the gateway to South Waziristan, the last major crossroads for insurgents and smugglers, traders and nomads before Pakistan's tribal areas, which, though officially under federal administration, have in truth never been under the government's control. Six hours by car from Islamabad, the city of 70,000 lies on the banks of the Indus River, at the intersection of three provinces: Punjab, Baluchistan and the North West Frontier Province.
Destruction of the Old Order
The Taliban routinely flee to Dera Ismail Khan to escape attacks by deadly U.S. drones in South Waziristan. They stroll through the abandoned streets above the Topawala Bazaar, and they sit on woven benches in the few teahouses, eating sohan halwa, a confection made of cornmeal, saffron and pistachios. Injured Taliban fighters from Afghanistan come to the city for medical treatment or to spend a few days recovering from the war.
The Taliban wear long beards and short collars, the ends of their turbans fall to the backs of their knees, and the seams of their trousers end above their ankles. Their dress is believed to reflect what the Prophet Mohammed wore.
The town's residents furtively observe these uninvited guests from the corners of their windows, and they remain in their homes unless going out is absolutely necessary. The women only go out in public wearing a white full-body veil and in the company of a male family member. The Taliban has set fire to CD and DVD businesses whose owners refused to voluntarily close their stores. Very few shops are still open.
Two years ago, the city was a vibrant commercial and cultural center. Canals connected to the Indus River irrigate rice fields and help ensure that local farmers can produce succulent mangoes and sweet dates. The colorful floral wreaths typical of the region are famous well beyond its borders. Mystics once converged on Dera Ismail Khan twice a year for Sufi conferences, and there were music concerts for the flute and dhol, a traditional drum. Weekly wrestling matches were held in Haq Nawaz Park, and on Fridays families would pack baskets of sweets and fruit and have picnics on the banks of the Indus, where the boys would hold swimming races and the girls would cheer them on.
If you want to die, the Pakistanis say today, then go to Dera Ismail Khan. The old order has been destroyed there, and tribal elders are no longer able to keep the peace. In fact, many tribal leaders themselves have become the targets of violent Islamists and criminal gangs.
Dera Ismail Khan has changed since the Americans began, more than a year ago, to regularly fire Hellfire missiles at extremist hideouts in the tribal areas. The attacks ended the tacit ceasefire agreement between the Pakistani government and the militants.
Today, everyone is fighting against everyone else. Baitullah Mehsud's followers toss hand grenades into the cars of rivals as they drive by, and they in turn attack Mehsud's men with roadside bombs. Open exchanges of fire on the street and kidnappings are commonplace. With the exception of a few agents of the Pakistani intelligence agency, hardly anyone is likely to understand which sub-clans of the Mehsuds are currently clashing in Dera Ismail Khan, why the Bhittanis, say, happen to be supporting the army at the moment and why the Gandapurs are trying to remain above the fray.
Local residents hardly even venture out to the mosque anymore, and they avoid funerals for fear of attacks on the families of the dead.
'They Forget Their Fear of Death'
Foreign intelligence agencies consider the region surrounding Dera Ismail Khan to be one of the world's most important -- and most difficult - operations areas. The US forces use spies to discover the whereabouts of the terrorist leaders they are targeting in South and North Waziristan. Ideally, the local agents can even pinpoint the precise locations to provide target information for deadly missiles. It is difficult to infiltrate the ranks of the extremists, while placing a spy in proximity to one of their senior commanders is virtually impossible.
"We have found and killed dozens of tribal members and Afghans," says Khan Jan Mehsud, who introduces himself as a cousin of Pakistani Taliban leader Baitullah Mehsud. After prolonged negotiations, he agrees to meet in a small village about a 20-minute drive from the city. The air is somewhat cooler by now, as a muezzin calls the faithful to evening prayers. Khan Jan Mehsud is wearing a simple shalwar kameez, an outfit that consists of a loose shirt worn over trousers, and a sand-colored cap. Like Baitullah, Khan Jan Mehsud is from Landidog, a village in South Waziristan. Both men are in their mid-30s.
"The spies are offered so much money that they forget their fear of death," says Khan Jan Mehsud. "But, you know, our brothers, the Arabs, are more experienced than we are. They have figured out how the Americans' technique works, and we have improved our counterespionage." The Taliban, he says, have a number of unmasked agents in their custody who are currently being "questioned." Mehsud leaves no doubt that few will survive this procedure.
Mehsud has a degree in Islamic Studies from Al-Khair University in Dera Ismail Khan and worked in the local administration for several years. When the Americans invaded Afghanistan in late 2001, the Taliban fled across the Pakistani border. At the time, his cousin Baitullah was one of many minor Taliban commanders fighting in Kandahar.
The group has now begun to organize the "legitimate liberation struggle" from South Waziristan, says Khan Jan Mehsud. Since then, he has applied the same care and attention to detail that he once employed when analyzing balance sheets to organizing the resistance movement. He finds accommodations for fighters and couriers, distributes money and organizes supplies of weapons and food.
Teenage Martyrs
Khan Jan Mehsud is only a small cog in a big machine. For the past year-and-a-half, his cousin Baitullah has been the commander of the Taliban in Pakistan, or Tehrik-i-Taliban. According to internal military reports, al-Qaeda is using Mehsud as a bridgehead into the region and, for this reason, provides him with funding. However, the terror is financed from a number of different sources, including the export of drugs, private donors from the Arab world and kidnapping.
For young men in the North West Frontier Province, the Taliban fighters are heroes. They give them weapons and responsibility, good pay, security and status. The Pakistani intelligence agency claims to have proof that India, Pakistan's archenemy, is supporting Mehsud in an effort to weaken the country.
Baitullah Mehsud's deadly strength lies in the many training camps for suicide bombers in South Waziristan. Most of his suicide candidates are teenagers. "Some parents have even dropped off their children at the entrance," claims Khan Jan Mehsud. "The government has allowed itself to be bought with the Americans' dollars, and the martyrs are sacrificing themselves in the fight against the enemies of Islam," he says dispassionately as a servant rolls up the oilcloth on which dinner is served.
"You see, the Americans and their allies are carpet-bombing Afghanistan, occupying the country of our brothers and torturing Muslims in Guantanamo, Abu Ghraib and Palestine, and in France they forbid our women from wearing the veil. Here they are hunting down Baitullah, who is prepared to die at any second, and yet they, with their high-tech drones, are in the end only murdering civilians. How can a true Muslim remain passive?"
A Beautiful Death
Mohammed Ullah is maybe 14, 15 at the most, when he records his farewell video. He has pale skin and a thin nose, and he and two friends sit, arm-in-arm, on a bench. All three have volunteered as suicide bombers. When the video is complete, they place Mohammed on a pedestal surrounded by bouquets of flowers. One after another, they embrace Mohammed, kiss him and speak a few words. Several masked men, apparently higher-ranking Taliban, are also in attendance. They sing a farewell song - a beautiful song for a beautiful death. Mohammed tries to smile.
Then he poses in front of the camera once again, this time holding a Kalashnikov that is almost as big as he is. A large radio device is inserted in the packed explosive vest. Mohammed reads the last words of his speech, and he says that he, as a "fedai," a martyr, wishes to fulfill the mission of Baitullah Mehsud. The house in the Swat Valley where the farewell ceremony is being held is decorated with chandeliers and furnished with heavy English upholstered furniture.
At dawn, they drive Mohammed Ullah to Charsadda, a city in the west of the North West Frontier Province. His mission is to kill a well-known young politician, Sikandar Sherpao, the 33-year-old son of former Interior Minister Aftab Sherpao, a large landowner who holds liberal views and embodies the old, feudal Pakistan.
The Taliban is intent on destroying the country's traditional order and marginalizing tribal leaders and politicians, landlords and mullahs. It is motivated, not by religion or faith, but by the desire to dominate the region
On April 3, 2009, vigilant policemen noticed Mohammed Ullah in Charsadda and shot him before he could approach the young Sherpao. A few days later, the police found Ullah's farewell video in a car being driven by a team of two other suicide bombers, come to take revenge for Mohammed Ullah.
Everything Is Wrong
How much longer can Pakistan endure? Will there ever be Sufi conferences and floral wreaths in Dera Ismail Khan again?
When asked these questions, the Pakistani intelligence agency officer merely shakes his head. His office in Islamabad is furnished with a glass table and a modern, expensive leather couch. The general, who prefers to remain anonymous, says that everything was wrong - the Americans coming to Afghanistan and Pakistan, the military offensives, "all wrong."
No one knows the Taliban better than the Pakistani intelligence agency. It was the Taliban's mentor for years, and perhaps it still is today. Pakistan has consistently viewed the Taliban as an auxiliary army that gives it influence in Kabul. A weak, dependent Afghanistan is more important to Pakistan than democracy there, or the Americans' goal of decimating the Islamic fundamentalists.
The relationship between the Pakistani intelligence agency, a division of the army, and the U.S. armed forces is quite poor at the moment. They disagree on the strategy and objectives of the war in northwestern Pakistan. The Americans are increasing their combat forces and attacking the Taliban in a major ground offensive in Afghanistan. Meanwhile, they use drones to attack al-Qaeda leaders and the Taliban on Pakistani soil. Their goal is to win the war.
If the Pakistani government and army had its way, it would rather come to terms with the Taliban in the northwest, and work out another deal and a cease-fire. But why?
The intelligence agency general narrows his eyes and leans forward. He says that he wants to tell us a story to make his position clear. It happened in South Waziristan, five years ago, in a village called Kalusha, the epicenter of al-Qaeda operations, as the army was launching a massive offensive in the Pashtun tribal areas. The general fought against, and defeated, Baitullah Mehsud. Then the two men sat down together, the victor and the vanquished. "We treated each other with respect," he says. "But the Americans don't understand that." The general is a Pashtun, like Mehsud.
At that time, says the general, the intelligence agency saw Mehsud as a known quantity, someone whose behavior they could predict. "We would have dealt with him our way, just as we deal with everyone, one way or another," says the officer.
All that, the general says, has changed since the U.S. military turned Mehsud into a "larger-than-life" figure by declaring him their public enemy No. 1 among the Taliban. According to the general, the "America" factor can now be seen everywhere and in all issues. But it is a factor, he says, that only aggravates Pakistan's problems and makes them impossible to solve.
Intellpuke: It would seem that the U.S. could not sow more discord in Pakistan if it were trying to do so, which I don't believe it is. Over the past half century, and perhaps longer, it seems that whenever the U.S. sends in the troops the officers appear to come with an attitude of "we'll show how to do this right"; as if their modern technological weapons and other modern warfare devices also magically made them master strategists.
Sun-tzu, the 6th Century B.C. Chinese general and military strategist who wrote the "Art of War", wrote that, if you think you may have to go to war with someone, the first thing you must do is get to know your enemy. Learn their language and culture, learn everything you can about their society, military and government structures and learn how they think and react to different situations. Once this is done, it is then time to devise your plan for war. I may be wrong, but it appears the U.S. has sidestepped this tenet in its recent military excursions into other nations.
I can't help but wonder how many of the younger Taliban recruits are the result of what the U.S. refers to as "collateral damage"?
