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Zulu
(sombre music)
- I'm heartbroken about the way things went
in Afghanistan.
Powerful armies invaded this country
with slogans about peace, democracy, women's rights.
(infant crying)
It was a disaster.
Now the foreign troops are withdrawing.
Whatever they leave behind, so far, it's nothing like what we promised.
My name is Graeme Smith.
Canadian war correspondent
more than 15 years ago.
(gunshots)
I followed troops into battle.
Spent years smelling the death.
The charred flesh of suicide bombers
got stuck in the treads of my shoes.
I returned one more time
before the Taliban swept back into power.
I needed to find out how it all went wrong.
I was also looking for a way to reconcile myself
with the terrible things that we, the foreigners,
inflicted on this beautiful country.
(escalating oriental music)
I've just come back to Kabul
and one of my first evenings out,
I looked at my phone and I heard that
an analyst that I knew a little bit,
he'd been gunned down in the streets.
Probably because of the things he was saying on television.
That was a good reminder about the dangers these days
that, I guess, face everyone who dips their toe
into politics in Afghanistan.
(faint honking)
(casual string music)
I first came to Afghanistan in 2005
as a reporter for The Globe and Mail.
And I stayed for many years after that
as an analyst for NGOs and the United Nations.
(indistinct chatter)
It was exciting for a kid in his twenties
What felt like the edges of civilization.
I had no idea
what I was getting myself into.
When I first arrived,
it felt like a cowboy frontier town.
It wasn't unusual to hear people saying,
"Oh, this is like the opening scene in Star Wars.
You know? With all of the crazy characters walking around."
everyone you can possibly
imagine was crowding into Kabul
in the early years of the war.
(distant sirens)
Today, so much has changed.
I've never seen the city so on edge.
The Taliban, once defeated, can now strike at any time.
(sirens wailing)
(crying)
People try to go about their daily lives
but there's always the danger
of a truck bomb or a suicide attack.
(repeated honking)
And when we venture outside
to talk to local people and do some filming,
we time ourselves to make sure that we don't linger.
There's a lot of kidnappings
by criminals, the Taliban, and other armed groups.
(eerie music)
Kabul used to be crowded with foreigners.
Now the diplomats and aid workers
mostly stay behind the blast walls
and the barbed wire that you see everywhere.
In the sky, surveillance blimps
float powerful cameras
to watch for trouble.
In the streets, posters urge citizens
to dial a hotline to stop terror attacks.
You know, it's the first time coming to Kabul
that I've hired a B6 armoured vehicle.
We've got the bulletproof glass,
the armour-plated doors,
We've got the bulletproof glass,
the armour-plated doors,
you can spray the tires with bullets
and it'll keep driving.
In some ways it feels like overkill
but that's the reality now.
I happen to know the man
in charge of all this security.
I met Hamdullah Mohib years ago
when he was an aid to a presidential candidate.
Now only 37 years old,
he is the National Security Advisor to the President.
(Hamdullah Mohib): Attacks here have caused massive casualties,
people feel fearful.
It has a psychological impact when you live like this.
Every day, my heart is pumping
worried about my children
until they come back from school.
(Graeme): Like many young Afghans
in positions of power today,
Mohib fled his homeland as a child.
He lived in a refugee camp in Pakistan
but was one of the lucky ones who got an education
in the west.
Then he returned home to try to rebuild his country.
(Hamdullah Mohib): The Afghan people have been
desiring stability ever since I was born.
My generation grew up in this war
and all we want to see
is to be able to do the normal things
that everyone else takes for granted.
(indistinct chatter)
(Graeme): Mohib gets daily briefings from his generals
who tell him that they are winning the war.
(Hamdullah Mohib): This is a different kind of warfare.
We have the conventional warfare
that most militaries are prepared to fight.
- Yeah.
- And they're trying to do that.
And then there's this gorilla type of warfare
mixed with terrorism
and tactics used by the Taliban.
(Graeme): These tactics are bringing the war
right into Mohib's backyard.
20 years of fighting has settled nothing.
When I first started coming to Afghanistan
the Taliban were just ghosts.
You would never see them.
I mean, even on the battlefield
just the occasional muzzle flash
or a bit of movement in the foliage.
They were very good at removing their dead
from the battlefield
so you didn't see the corpses.
They were a myth more than anything else.
(dark chiming music)
The Taliban started as
conservative religious students
based in the southern province of Kandahar.
Many had taken up arms against the Soviet troops
that occupied Afghanistan in the 1980s.
(violent whooshing)
But once the Soviets were driven out,
a vicious civil war erupted among rival political factions
in the 1990s.
The Taliban emerged as the dominant force
in this chaos.
Sweeping the country and capturing Kabul in 1996.
Once in power, they closed girls' schools,
banned music and television.
They forced women to wear the burqa
and executed people for minor transgressions.
But they offered an alternative
to the rampant unrest of earlier years.
That made the Taliban popular in some places
especially in the southern villages.
But a lot of educated people fled the country.
(eerie flute music)
(rapid whirring)
(rumbling)
Then, in October 2001, the Americans invaded.
The Taliban had been harbouring
Al-Qaeda leaders
who plotted the 9/11 attacks in New York City.
- On my orders,
the United States military has begun strikes
against the Al-Qaeda terrorist training camps
and military installations of the Taliban regime
in Afghanistan.
The name of today's military operation
is Enduring Freedom.
(oriental music)
(Graeme): I don't know now if there is such a thing
as a good war.
But definitely, at the time,
there was a feeling that the war in Afghanistan
was noble somehow.
Not just the foreign troops
but everybody who came with the foreign troops.
The aid workers, the journalists.
Almost all of them felt
as though they were pushing back
the forces of darkness in Afghanistan.
They were pushing back the forces of evil
and barbarism.
(oriental music continues)
I was swept up in this fantasy
that gripped everyone in Afghanistan.
All the foreigners,
and frankly the entire western world
at that time.
It was a kind of romantic notion,
a flawed romantic notion.
That belief inspired Canada and dozens of countries
to more than 100,000 foreign troops.
One of the soldiers I came to know
was Ayesha Wolasmal.
Born in Norway, she often visited family in Afghanistan.
She joined the Norweigan Army in 2006.
We arranged to meet one morning
in the garden of a heavily protected compound in Kabul.
What was that like putting on the uniform?
- Fantastic. It was very emotional.
Even though I was very young,
I immediately had this feeling that I can,
you know, be a bridge maker somehow
because I grew up in a very conservative
traditional Pashtun family.
And I picked up on a lot of cultural nuances,
that whole kind of tribal thinking.
I have to admit, I wasn't that intellectually invested
in the whole peace and democracy
aspect of it.
It was more the immediate, you know,
relief for the population, as I saw it.
- You're sort of saving the people from the Taliban.
- Yeah, exactly.
So that was a very strong sentiment.
(shouting)
(Graeme): At first it all seemed easy.
In a little more than two months,
the western armies drove the Taliban from power.
(indistinct chatter)
(Ayesha Wolasmal): And I remember music playing,
Afghans love music.
As soon as the regime was toppled, I felt that,
"Okay, now the world has access to Afghanistan.
And Afghanistan has access to the world,
to all the impulses that help a country
move in the right direction."
Practically, that meant development projects coming in.
Girls going to school, something as basic as that.
(lively music)
(Graeme): Much has changed especially for the lucky few
that live in cities.
Foreign troops and foreign aid
brought new freedoms and new opportunities.
(sombre music)
But when you leave Kabul, things get more complicated.
Especially here in the south in Kandahar
where I spent most of my time as a reporter.
(cars rumbling)
(indistinct chatter)
For me it was really important
to cover all sides of the conflict.
So spending time with Afghan Security Forces,
trying to hear what the Taliban had to say.
They'd go... well they stayed outside the wire
beyond the razor-wire fence
that surrounds the military camps
and just listen to ordinary people.
(car honking)
Kandahar is where the Taliban first emerged
and it remains very conservative.
Women in public
pretty much always wear the traditional burqa.
And yet, here is where, with Canadian Aid money,
a friend of mine tried something bold.
In a quiet corner of the city,
these girls escape behind the high walls
of this private school.
They take off their burqas
to attend classes in English and learn computer skills.
(speaking in foreign language)
- Life is good.
Life is good and we see you again.
You're welcome. - It's so nice to see you.
Ehsanullah Ehsan for years.
Thank you so much. You look even younger than before.
(laughing): Oh yeah! - How is it possible?
We wanted to give you a little surprise.
- So good, it's so good. It is a surprise.
- But you're still here.
- I'm still here, I'm still surviving.
It's definitely hard.
It's very risky here
to help all these women get education
and especially modern education.
To go out and work,
to be self-sustained, to be independent,
this is something unacceptable for extremists.
For example, you are developing a magazine, right?
Writing a magazine.
So in the magazine, you need to put some photos
or you are doing a report.
(Graeme): But foreign money has dried up
for his school as Canada and other western donors
lost interest in Afghanistan.
His school has gone from
more than 2000 female students a year,
to 200.
And he struggles to give the young girls hope.
- There is violence against women in some countries
and Afghanistan is one of them.
(Graeme): These girls are here
to get a broad education.
(applause)
(Graeme): In today's English class,
Soraya and her classmates
have an assignment on violence against women,
a radical topic here in the traditional south.
Now it's the turn of 12-year-old Shabnam.
- Islam has given women the right
to work, study, and get education.
I request every family
to let women study, work, and get education.
To shine one day and achieve their dreams.
Let them fly like a bird and be honoured one day.
Thanks a lot.
(applause)
(Graeme): It's not safe outside
for women or anyone else, really.
Canadian troops fought and died
to protect this city
and yet now it's under siege once again by the Taliban.
(vehicles bustling)
(melancholic music)
Police are constantly on the lookout
for insurgents and suicide bombers.
They guard the city
but they can barely protect themselves.
Three police officers are assassinated here in Kandahar
every week.
And across the country, in some weeks,
hundreds of security personnel are killed.
(tires screeching)
So just now, 20 minutes ago, another target killing.
Yet again, some gunmen on a motorcycle
shot and killed an off-duty police officer.
It's amazing the pace of these things.
(speaking in foreign language)
Even if the police are targets,
we have no choice.
We still need to rely on them for our safety.
With two truckloads of armed men,
we drive less than 30 minutes to the frontlines
in the Panjwai Valley.
This is where I first started to understand
that there would be no military solution to this war.
Canada took command of NATO operations
here in the south back in 2006.
It was the country's biggest deployment since World War II
and, eventually, one of its bloodiest.
I think I slept in that shelter over there.
This used to be a Canadian base.
It's called Masum Ghar.
And now, there's hardly anything left.
It's like a ghost town.
This landscape haunts me.
I almost died in this valley.
I remember the bone-jarring intensity of the explosions.
Just over there in the hazy distance,
you can see Taliban territory.
The Canadians, the British, the Germans, the Americans,
they all fought to defeat the Taliban
and they failed, essentially.
(explosions blasting)
(men yelling, gunshots)
(man): Everybody okay?!
- I was just over there listening on the radio
as Canadians on this hillside
were trying to move north at Taliban positions.
(tense music)
(gunshots)
Year after year, battle after battle,
I witnessed the same pattern.
Foreign troops hammering away with modern fire power,
the Taliban coming back again, and again, and again,
with nothing more sophisticated
than stubbornness.
(reporter 1): NATO's top commander
had great words of praise today
for Canadian forces...
(reporter 2): Canadian troops here
have been very successful. The Taliban...
(reporter 3): ...defeating
a significant Taliban presence.
(reporter 1): ...declaring the recent operation there
a clear military victory.
(Graeme): Canadian politicians and generals
kept hailing the Afghan mission as a spectacular success.
But looking back,
it was really a string of failures.
They just retreated
and then launched a renewed insurgency that grew
and engulfed the whole country.
(desolate music)
In my reports back then,
I tried to sound a note of caution.
But I often felt like a lonely voice
in a crowd of media cheerleaders.
I really questioned my own sanity sometimes
in Afghanistan.
I could see things were happening in front of me
and I was trying to write them down
and put them in the newspaper,
and then military officers and government PR people
would sort of tell me,
"No, no that's not what you saw."
It was a head-spinning experience.
And I think that's what happens in a war
where countries get swept up in this fervour.
And they don't care what's true.
They want to know, "How great are our boys?
How true is our cause?"
And I think that's the madness of war.
(sombre music)
For Canada, the madness would go on
for five more years.
We started to withdraw from Afghanistan in 2011
with 158 soldiers dead and at least 2000 injured.
I began to question
whether those sacrifices were worth it.
I also began to realize
that while fighting what we saw as evil
that we ourselves had sometimes crossed the line into darkness.
I had to go back
to where I first saw that darkness.
Maybe more than any other single place,
where I really started to lose faith
in the war in Afghanistan
was inside the crumbling jail cells of Sarpoza prison
on the west side of Kandahar City.
Some of the stories I heard inside these walls...
I can't forget. They're still with me.
The prison has always housed common criminals
but also plenty of political prisoners.
You can hear the murmuring of men here
inside the political section of the prison,
that's where they keep the Taliban.
We're not allowed to film inside there right now
but the last time I was here,
I spent a number of visits
inside the political section here,
and they told me terrible stories
about torture and abuse
at the hands of the security forces.
And it really started to change the way
that I thought about the war.
This was kind of a turning point for me
in my whole thinking about the conflict.
When I first came here in 2007, I interviewed 30 detainees,
the majority of them suspected Taliban.
Many of them captured by Canadian soldiers
and transferred
over to the Afghan authorities.
(indistinct chatter)
I spoke to men who showed me the scars on their bodies.
They told me they were beaten, choked, frozen, whipped.
There was one guy who'd been beaten so badly
that he'd forgotten who he was.
There was one young man
who had a very vivid memory of being electrocuted
and he showed me how he was flopping around
on the ground like a fish.
Terrible things happened to these prisoners
when they were being interrogated.
(eerie music)
This shook me because it wasn't an accident of war.
It was deliberate.
It was a part of the design of the war.
On a daily basis,
prisoners transferred from Canadian custody
into cruel hands.
(reporter 1): ...have no evidence
of the specific allegations in the global...
(reporter 2): Why was this information
not brought up in this house before?
(Graeme): My stories caused uproar, debate,
and investigations.
The Afghan and Canadian governments
tried to deny that torture was happening.
(reporter 3): ...evidence there is any access
blocked to the prisons.
(reporter 4): Pourquoi n'avez-vous pas eu
les mรชmes exigences?
to confirm the truth.
Ansari Baluch, an investigator
for the Afghanistan Independent
Human Rights Commission.
He wasn't afraid to call out abuses
by both the government and the Taliban,
angering the Taliban all the more
because he worked with people like me,
western journalists.
Working with foreigners can taint you.
Everyone in your community
thinks that you are a spy for the Americans.
So I was worried about the fallout
and how that was going to affect Ansari.
Several months after my stories appeared,
Ansari disappeared.
I found out later
that the Taliban
had kidnapped and beheaded him.
(dark music)
I always felt bad
about dragging Ansari into the spotlight
because he was trying to do his human rights work quietly,
behind the scenes,
and I was trying to make a headline.
(sombre oriental music)
in Afghanistan.
But I think how you feel about that
depends on whether you feel responsible.
And that's why today's meeting is going to be tough.
I've tracked down Ansari's family.
(speaking in foreign language)
Mokhtar is his nephew. Anargul is his daughter.
They say that the human rights advocate
wouldn't listen to the family's
concerns about his safety.
(speaking in foreign language)
(Graeme): When the Taliban snatched Ansari
and asked for a ransom,
to meet the kidnappers.
(Graeme): You started digging in the earth.
- Yeah.
(Graeme): Ah, the clothes.
- Yes.
(Graeme): I'm sorry, my friend.
That must have been incredibly hard.
(sighing, sniffling)
- And his hands.
I'm sorry, my friend.
(speaking in foreign language)
And Shahid in red is a martyr.
- Yeah.
(melancholic string music)
(Graeme): I think what happened
to my friend Ansari Baluch
is symbolic of the ways that we as foreign journalists
put our friends into danger.
It's something that we really have to grapple with
about whether or not the things that we ask people to do
are worth it.
Ansari was just one of the many people I've known
killed in this endless war.
A journalist who worked with Canadian reporters,
a tribal leader who helped me to understand local politics,
A Canadian soldier who protected me in battle.
Like so many others who died,
they wanted a better Afghanistan.
One of the things
is how much of that striving was wasted.
In part because of the abuses and the corruption
of our supposed allies.
A lot of the western aid money for schools and hospitals
In recent years, poverty's gotten worse.
More than half the population
now lives
These days, what separates squalor from splendour
are guards and gates.
(vehicles bustling)
Inside wealthy enclaves,
the elites enjoy their parks and fountains.
(hooves clopping)
None of this existed when I first came here
to Kandahar.
Certainly not this fountain.
I mean, this is a dry country.
It's one of the poorest countries in the world.
And so to see this, it's pretty stunning.
And it really gives you a sense
that some people are doing pretty well for themselves
in this war.
And it's actually, you know,
this is part of the reason why the war goes on
because it's good business.
Not all of the wealthier is from corruption,
but this is not the kind of neighbourhood
where it's safe to ask people how they made their fortunes.
The drug trade, stolen aid money,
all kinds of schemes
have made Afghanistan
one of the world's most corrupt countries.
A problem so big, so obvious
that government leaders don't really try to deny it,
as National Security Advisor Hamdullah Mohib told me.
- To get quick fixes,
we empowered some of the very warlords
that people were fed up with.
We put them in positions of ministries and governors.
As businesses, they were given lucrative contracts.
(Graeme): Police chiefs.
(tense music)
Vice presidents.
Governors.
Men who have been accused
by international human rights organizations
of gross violations.
Many of them warlords of the past
still have a grip on Afghanistan.
- I think there has been a lot of injustices
in the last 18 years
conducted by our government or people,
and I think whether willingly or unwillingly,
however it has happened,
but I think it has led to people
joining the Taliban.
There has been a lot of corruption in the government
and I think we should not free ourselves from that.
Own it and fix it.
(rumbling)
(indistinct chatter)
(Graeme): Widespread corruption
has not been the only thing driving people to the Taliban.
There have also been mounting civilian casualties
in the US-led war.
This is where they count the numbers
and track the abuses,
the Afghanistan Independent Human Rights Commission.
It says a lot about the situation
that any sort of official building
looks like a fortress with intense security checks.
It's so tight that they took my chocolate away from me.
(laughing)
They think I'm going to kill someone
with a chocolate bar.
- They took the pills too.
- Oh yeah, the cough drops.
My good friend Shaharzad Akbar heads the commission.
(Graeme): Akbar's family spent the Taliban years
in a refugee camp.
Her parents firmly believed in education for women
and she went on to become the first Afghan woman
to study at Oxford University.
- The future of human rights...
(Graeme): At 33 years old,
she's probably the leading human rights advocate
in Afghanistan.
- ...for our international partners.
(Graeme): What bothers Akbar
is the sheer level of carnage inflicted by both sides.
(eerie flute music)
(Graeme): You can really see that footprint of war
on the most vulnerable, the children.
Over the years, I've seen far too many
of the war's youngest victims.
This generation has grown up in a world shaped by violence.
Recent years have been
because of increased fighting on all sides.
(indistinct chatter)
One of my friends is trying to do something
here at an orphanage just outside of Kabul,
home to 150 children from toddlers to teens.
Mariam Wardak takes in as many orphans as she can.
- We have people coming to our door every day
saying that we have another orphan.
We can't accept it
because we have exceeded our capacity.
Everybody has become numb to the children of war.
How can you become numb to something like that?
(Graeme): Wardak comes from a prominent family.
Her father was a famous rebel against the Soviet invaders,
she recently worked as a senior security official
for the Afghan government.
And now, she's dealing with the human consequences
of rising insecurity.
The children at Wardak's orphanage
have suffered at the hands of all sides of the war.
The Taliban as well as the Americans
and the Afghan government.
in the fighting.
(speaking in foreign language)
(Graeme): Hamidah saw her mother gunned down
by the Taliban.
his family was killed in crossfire.
- Do you know who fired against your family?
(children screaming)
- War is blind.
They don't know who to be angry with,
they don't know who to look forward to,
they just understand that there is violence
and that they're afraid that they can get in the crossfire
between the Taliban
or the Afghan National Defence and Security Forces
that could cost them their life
like it has cost their parents' lives.
They know that they need to fear both.
But they don't understand
who's the good guy and who's the bad guy.
(eerie flute music)
(Graeme): It can be hard
at times to tell the difference
between the supposed good guys and the bad guys.
That's what Ayesha Wolasmal discovered
once she took off her soldier's uniform.
- When I was in a uniform,
my entire understanding of the situation
was a very kind of security-based understanding.
But it was only when I actually came back
to Afghanistan as a civilian, you know,
as Ayesha, Masuma's daughter,
that I got a reality check
and I think the strongest symbol of that
was when we took a taxi like a Corolla
between Kabul and Kandahar.
And I'd say it's like 45 degrees
and it's really, really hot
and we're both in our burqas.
And there was an American convoy
passing.
And I'm sitting there
for the first time not in a convoy
but just like a normal civilian.
And I sat there and I felt...
Suddenly I felt that I witnessed
the occupation in action.
Even though I had been part of these convoys myself
but we ended up waiting three and a half hours
for this convoy to do whatever they were supposed to do.
And me and my mom were fine
but there were tons and tons,
long lines of cars with women, small children.
For them it was a full-blown occupation,
for them it was seeing
people that don't look like them
control their cities, control their check post,
control their movement.
(gunshot)
(Graeme): In the villages,
people told her about being terrified
of foreign troops or Afghan government forces
as they hunted for the Taliban.
- I remember so many stories
about my relatives telling me about how their sons
were just like taken out in the middle of the nights,
you know?
In front of their mothers.
Black paper bags were placed on their heads
and they disappeared.
Even two weeks ago,
I met with people not faring night raids by the Americans
but the Americans have trained the Afghans that well
that now the Afghans are doing it.
Sadly that's everyday life.
The bloodshed, uh...
I mean, the sons, the husbands, the fathers,
but also the young children.
I mean, it's absolutely devastating.
(Graeme): The numbers are staggering.
Since the war began in 2001,
hundreds of thousands have been killed.
No one knows the exact count.
A cemetery for bodies that are unclaimed,
unidentified, unknown.
It was a sad enough place
when I visited a dozen years ago
and today it is unbelievably bigger.
More people are killed in this war every year
than in any other conflict in the world.
(melancholic music)
Sometimes memories drift back to you
in unexpected ways.
I remember one night I was attending a play
and I started crying,
and I wept, and I wept.
I hadn't cried like that in years.
I really, really want this war to end.
(sirens wailing)
NATO is the most powerful alliance in human history
by some measures.
But military efforts to bring peace and stability
have failed.
The Taliban have only grown stronger.
(upbeat music)
In propaganda videos posted on their website,
the Taliban claim they are well armed, well trained,
they can strike anywhere
and they do.
(singing in foreign language)
To find out how the Taliban are pulling it off,
I went to see my good friend Rahmatullah Amiri,
one of the country's most respected
political analysts.
- Taliban are not just only getting stronger,
they're getting organized,
they're becoming some sort of a conventional
kind of army.
If you compare the Taliban of today
versus the Taliban of 2014,
you see a much different group.
(sirens wailing)
(Graeme): Amiri barely survived
a Taliban attack on the American University
in Kabul in 2016.
13 people were killed and more than 40 injured
including Amiri.
- Four bullets hit me,
two in the abdomen
and one in the leg, one in the arm.
(indistinct chatter)
I was pushing myself against the ground
to get to the police
because the police was probably 10 metres away from me.
They could hear my voice but they could not come
because the attackers were pretty close by.
Then I thought, "Okay, let's try a bit more."
Because my mom lost four sons.
I knew that if she lost me,
I don't think she would survive
because I am the solo breadwinner of the family.
And...
And she's very close to me.
So I didn't give up.
(Graeme): Amiri slowly recovered,
rebuilt his strength,
and he believes the Taliban were doing the same.
By 2019,
from safe havens in Pakistan,
expanding their control across Afghanistan.
(Rahmatullah Amiri): From experience travelling
across the country,
I would say in terms of terrain,
Taliban control between 50 to 60 percent of the country
under their full control.
That's what I would say their full control is.
If you add the contested area, I would say 60 to 70 percent.
(indistinct shouting)
(Graeme): That is not what National Security Advisor
Hamdullah Mohib told me.
He seems confident of victory.
(Hamdullah Mohib): We have broken the back
of the Taliban.
They will lose their capacity
to take and hold territory.
We have a military part to victory in this conflict.
(speaking in foreign language)
(Rahmatullah Amiri): That's not true.
If the back of the Taliban could be broken,
that would be from 2009 to 2014.
Where hundreds of thousands international trips were there
and billions of dollars
were poured into reconstructions
and nation building and everything.
That was the only times
where the Taliban were on the back foot.
When the government talks about that, you know,
breaking their back,
I'm telling them they haven't reached their peak yet.
(Graeme): Wow.
(indistinct chatter)
(Rahmatullah Amiri): The government needs to accept
Taliban as a very strong, powerful force.
They cannot treat them as a bunch of, you know,
insurgents who are outside there.
No, they have a very strong system,
both a civilian and military system
that is right now running almost half of the country.
(melancholic music)
(Graeme): It's hard to get a sense
of the Taliban's real power
because it's dangerous for an outsider like me
to travel into the vast territory
they control.
One night in Kandahar,
we arranged to meet Abdullah,
a former Taliban commander who grew weary of fighting
but who still stays in touch with his former comrades.
For his own safety,
we are concealing his identity.
We hire him to take a cellphone camera
into a Taliban region not far from Kandahar City.
- You have to keep everything on this little chip here.
It'll be good.
(Graeme): Local fighters allowed him
to film these images.
They want to show the outside world
how secure they feel in their strongholds.
(speaking in foreign language)
(laughing)
(Graeme): These days, the Taliban allow girls
to join the boys in study at the local religious school.
But many families
pull their girls out of classes
when they reach puberty.
And these students are just memorizing
verses from the Quran,
not really getting a broad education.
(Graeme): Farmers don't seem to mind being filmed
as they finish harvesting the hashish crop.
Drug cultivation is the biggest source
of cash income for these people.
Other farmers plant poppy seeds for the next season's opium.
Both sides of the war
earn tens of millions of dollars a year
from illegal drugs.
The profits allow them to buy more weapons,
seize more territory.
The drugs fuel the war.
(speaking in foreign language)
wants to hide his face
but he has a message to broadcast on television.
(speaking in foreign language)
(Graeme): This is not an empty boast.
Intelligence estimates say that by early 2021, the Taliban
already dominated much of the countryside.
With only major cities under government control
and under constant threat.
(tense music)
The Taliban have shown their strength
with spectacular attacks like this car bomb in 2018
in the southwestern province of Helmand.
(faint sirens)
But this attack was different.
Instead of suffering quietly,
ordinary citizens decided to speak up.
(speaking in foreign language)
In all my years in Afghanistan,
people usually debated how to win the war
and now they started to argue about how to make peace.
I came to this neighbourhood in Kandahar
to find one of the organizers
of a new grassroots peace movement.
(speaking in foreign language)
A young father of five children Bismillah Watandost
makes his living as a freelance journalist
and full-time activist.
(speaking in foreign language)
(rhythmic music)
(Graeme): The Helmand blast inspired Bismillah and others
to launch a people's peace march.
They started with just a handful of people
but grew to a few hundred,
trekking more than 700 kilometres
across deserts, through villages,
for almost two months.
(Graeme): Bismillah even took the risk
of arranging to meet with local Taliban leaders
face to face.
(Graeme): As the peace marchers
were making their way to Kabul in June 2018,
the government and the Taliban
declared an unexpected ceasefire.
For three days,
Afghans got a glimpse of what peace could look like.
(lively music)
Mujib Mashal covered this story for the New York Times.
Born in Kabul,
he is one of the best journalists in Afghanistan.
- The miraculous thing about those three days was
it was completely peaceful.
To me, that was a sign that everybody's really tired.
I remember we reported an episode from Kunduz
where some of these Taliban fighters would come in,
so we kind of chronicled their day,
you know, where they had kebabs, where they had their ice cream,
at the kebab shop they listened to music,
and as they were riding back on their motorcycles...
it was dusk time and the ceasefire was ending
and they were crossing a bridge,
and they were actually hugging goodbye with the people
including the soldiers on this side of the line.
- They were hugging the same guys
they were going to be shooting the next day.
- They shot at three days before
they were going to go back to shooting them,
and probably a bunch of those guys
are dead by now.
There was something about that moment,
I think we have lost even the power to imagine
that there could be a moment
where everybody feels like they can breathe
and they don't have to shoot.
And as short as that period was
and as insignificant in the larger loss of the war,
it kicked a sense of possibility
into people, you know?
it kicked a sense of possibility
into people, you know?
And no matter how it came about,
it was for the first time in a long time,
not just in this conflict,
in the spectrum of 40-year conflict
at least for my generation,
to think that the two sides can say,
"Okay, we'll stop" and that it actually stops.
(lively music)
(Graeme): But even as
that dream of peace took shape,
Afghans started asking questions.
And at what cost?
Resistance to any compromise with the Taliban
has always been especially strong
within the urban middle class.
Many women are fearful
of losing their hard-fought freedoms.
And I was curious about the young generation of people
who grew up surrounded by foreign troops
and foreign aid.
So I came here, to Kabul University.
Mariam and her friend Adiba study photography
in a country where the Taliban had once banned cameras
and they have no intention
of letting anyone turn back the clock.
(speaking in foreign language)
(Graeme): Despite these struggles,
this generation dreams big.
And also small
with personal goals
that are breathtakingly modest.
(speaking in foreign language)
(Graeme): What clothes would you want to wear?
(speaking in foreign language)
- I, myself?
Like men's clothes.
(Graeme): Mini skirts?
- Men's clothes, suits.
(Graeme): Men's clothes. Oh, okay, okay.
(speaking in foreign language)
(laughing)
Something like this.
(Graeme): You want to wear colourful clothes?
(speaking in foreign language)
Why can't you wear colourful clothes now?
(Graeme): I want to go
for many of these young women.
She's the most famous feminist in the country.
Your phone just pinged? Something just happened?
Another explosion?
- Yeah, in PD 12, there was a blast.
And we still don't know if it has harmed anyone or not.
(Graeme): This kind of security
it used to be only embassies that did this.
We're in what's known as an airlock,
heavy steel doors
that are closed on both sides of the driveway
and they're never open at the same time.
And so, you're in a little metal box, basically,
just in case the car explodes while it's being checked.
(soft music)
Farahnaz Forotan is only 28
but she is one of Afghanistan's
best-known television journalists.
I noticed you have Frida Kahlo everywhere. Here...
Forotan revels in provocation.
She decorates her office
with the work of Mexican artist Frida Kahlo ,
selecting images that would shock most people
in this conservative society.
(speaking in foreign language)
- That's like you.
(laughs)
(Graeme): She used her fame
to launch a social media campaign
called My Red Line.
(speaking in foreign language)
Asking people to talk about the lines
that they are not willing to cross
for the sake of peace.
(Graeme): She has travelled across the country
collecting videos with messages of defiance.
(speaking in foreign language)
(Graeme): My Red Line has generated dozens of videos
with tens of thousands of followers on social media.
But it is mostly an urban phenomenon
in a country that is mainly rural.
(Ayesha Wolasmal): Obviously there's a lot more at stake
for women here, you know?
They've come a really long way
and they're right to be really scared
of what a Taliban government would look like.
I would struggle to sleep at night
if I was one of them.
(Graeme): Raised in the western world,
Ayesha Wolasmal understands the fears of urban women.
She's no longer a soldier.
She now works with rural women in the villages
and that gives her a different perspective.
(casual string music)
(Ayesha Wolasmal): That fear is very different
from the fear that women in the rural areas have.
Because they haven't
had the same level of progress there,
they haven't gone from their mud house
to become parliamentarians. (Graeme): Yeah.
- They're still in that same mud house.
Illiteracy rates are extremely high,
there are still girls being married off at age 14.
So life hasn't changed.
And I always noticed this throughout my travels.
The more remote places you visit,
the more it becomes evident
that the discussion at central level
is very removed from the realities
of rural Afghanistan.
(eerie flute music)
(Graeme): I wanted to meet women like that
but local traditions make it very hard for a foreigner,
let alone a man.
So I asked Wolasmal to introduce me to her friend
Dr. Aziza Watanwall Azizi
and I went to see her in Kandahar.
(indistinct chatter)
Azizi was part of an older generation of women
who came of age in the 1970s
before Afghanistan plunged into war.
She studied and practised medicine in Europe
and then she came back
at a clinic in Kandahar.
walk through her doors.
(speaking in foreign language)
(crying)
(Graeme): Dr. Azizi invited a group of women she knows
to a tea party at her home,
a rare occasion for these women
to talk to a foreign man
and an even rarer opportunity
for me to hear their point of view.
In Kabul, we interviewed some women
who don't wear burqa and they don't wear hijab even.
They say this war is about freedom against peace.
If peace comes
and the Taliban come back to Kabul,
they will lose their freedom.
And I want to know if the women here
feel the same way.
(speaking in foreign language)
(Graeme): I think in foreign countries,
people think if Taliban come back
to take a share of power
that it will be bad for women,
that women are afraid of the Taliban coming back.
But these women are not afraid, I think.
Can we ask why?
(laughing)
(laughing)
(slow string music)
(Graeme): Even here under anonymous burqas
behind high walls,
everyone has their own ideas about the key to peace.
(child crying)
Over the mountains,
more than 1000 kilometres away,
those divergent ideas about peace in Afghanistan
were being debated
in a city that feels like a different world.
Doha, the capital of Qatar.
(tense music)
I've been shot at by the Taliban,
nearly kidnapped a couple of times,
so it feels strange
to come here and arrange interviews with them.
you can find something remarkable.
A kind of unofficial embassy and headquarters
for the Taliban
with the support of the Qatari government.
They've been here since 2013,
a sign of how far they've come diplomatically.
The Taliban meet openly with visiting delegations,
plan their political strategy,
(speaking in foreign language)
I was curious to meet the younger Taliban thinkers.
Amar Zmarak is 35 years old.
Like a lot of new leaders
who work in the Taliban's political office,
he's well-educated and worldly.
He works diligently to spread the movement's message.
The Taliban once banned television
but now they have a sophisticated web presence,
active on social media
in Pashto, Dari, English, and Arabic.
- We are the age of technology.
In our elder time even all over the world,
there was not as much technology as we have now.
So due to technology, there is more knowledge,
there is more education,
there is more progress in any field.
So we are more progressive than the past generation.
When the world gives an opportunity to us
to prove ourselves to the world,
what we are and what we want,
they will be surprised
and they will find us
very different.
(Graeme): Zmarak dreams of returning to a homeland
that he has never seen.
(Amar Zmarak): I was born in exile.
My children are now living in exile.
So exile is now kind of life for us.
Every day and every night even in sleep we have dreams.
Every night we live in Afghanistan in our dream.
(Graeme): He and his fellow Taliban comrades in Doha
now sense that they have a chance
of getting back home.
(soft sombre music)
The United States waged war
against the Taliban for almost two decades.
some not even born when the war started in 2001.
And now the Americans also wanted to go home.
A desperate America needed to change strategy.
After decades of refusing
the US began to do just that.
In 2018, the Americans came to Doha
to start official negotiations with the Taliban...
without the Afghan government.
Mujib Mashal of the New York Times
says the stunning reversal came about
because the Americans felt trapped.
(Mujib Mashal): The noose had tightened too much.
- The military noose. - The military noose.
The Taliban's gain of territory,
the Taliban's confidence.
The Taliban's gain of territory,
the Taliban's confidence.
There's an acknowledgment of the fact internationally
that they are a power to reckon with.
(Graeme): So the Americans were forced to reckon
with Taliban's stalwarts
like this leader, Khairullah Khairkhwa,
who was the Taliban's interior minister
and a provincial governor.
(speaking in foreign language)
(Graeme): Captured shortly after the fall
of the Taliban regime in 2001,
Khairkhwa spent 12 years
in the American military prison
at Guantanamo.
His detention file describes him
as a trusted and respected Taliban official,
a high risk to US interests.
But he was set free by the Americans
in a prisoner exchange.
Khairkhwa went from wearing a prison jumpsuit
to more dignified clothing at five-star hotels.
(speaking in foreign language)
(Graeme): Khairkhwa became a key player
in the Taliban's talks with the Americans,
surrounded by lush gardens and palm trees.
The Taliban negotiators,
and tortured,
found themselves face to face with US military commanders.
(Mujib Mashal): It's a really, really odd, bizarre image
around the table.
You have people in uniform at the table,
people who have been involved in special operations,
people who are very well-known
for the kill/capture missions and things like that.
On the other side
you have pretty much half of the Taliban delegation,
some of the most key negotiators
who've spent a decade in orange jumpsuits
in Guantanamo.
Now the two of them sitting across as equals.
but by negotiating directly with the Taliban,
the Americans outraged many of their allies
in the Afghan government.
(eerie flute music)
National Security Advisor Hamdullah Mohib,
who spent his life fighting the Taliban,
felt betrayed.
(Hamdullah Mohib): I think what the Taliban
would achieve out of this was legitimacy.
And that's goal number one.
Establish yourself
as the legitimate saviour of Afghanistan
who has defeated a superpower
and freed the country from their invasion.
Once you've legitimized yourself
and delegitimized everybody else
then you want to negotiate.
That is not a negotiation, that is a surrender.
The Afghan government, the Afghan people
stand no chance, no fighting chance
once that deal is struck.
Because like I said, moral is gone.
I mean...
Perception is reality.
The perception there would be
is the Taliban defeated the United States
and all its allies, NATO allies.
Who in their right mind in Afghanistan
would stand in their way?
(Graeme): Activist Farahnaz Forotan
is doing her best to stand in their way.
Her My Red Line campaign has mustered a lot of opinion
against compromise with the Taliban.
(speaking in foreign language)
(tense music)
(Graeme): This poses a dilemma for Shaharzad Akbar.
As the head of Afghanistan's human rights commission,
she has always advocated for women's rights.
But she is also in favour of peace talks.
(Graeme): Interesting.
(Graeme): And what did you say?
(tense upbeat music)
Akbar went to Doha
along with other prominent Afghans
to meet the Taliban.
She pushed Khairkhwa and his comrades
on where they stood on women's rights.
But his answers were too opaque
to reassure her.
(speaking foreign language)
(Graeme): So when the Taliban say
they're committed to protecting the rights of women
that have been given to them
by the sacred religion of Islam,
what does that mean?
(indistinct chatter)
(Graeme): Despite the tensions and mistrust,
by February 2020,
the Americans and the Taliban managed to pull off a deal.
The Taliban paraded to the signing ceremony,
triumphant.
Maybe they didn't win the war,
but the Americans had failed to defeat them.
And the United States was finally admitting it.
(shouting in foreign language)
- It doesn't show our victory,
but definitely shows the loss and the weakness
of the Americans
and all other foreign troops and foreign countries
who have troops in Afghanistan.
(indistinct chatter)
(Graeme): Inside a Doha hotel ballroom
packed with dignitaries from around the world,
a historic handshake
between the US Special Envoy for Afghanistan
and a Taliban leader.
Something hard to imagine in previous years.
(applause)
(sombre music)
But this was not a peace deal.
There was no ceasefire on the horizon,
no vision for the future Afghan state.
The Taliban promised to prevent Al-Qaeda or other groups
from using Afghan soil for terrorism.
The Americans promised to pull out of the country
if the Taliban started talking with the Afghan government.
The US hoped that somehow the two sides could reach
a compromise across the battle lines.
(music escalates)
(sirens wailing)
But that hope vanished
once the Americans withdrew the last of their troops.
A corrupt government and its demoralized forces
collapsed in a matter of weeks.
By August 2021, the victorious Taliban
had swept back into power.
Hamdullah Mohib remained
to the President until the very end.
(Hamdullah Mohib): I think the word peace
gives warmth to everyone's heart.
People immediately assume that we will have stability.
Unfortunately, that's not always the case.
(speaking in foreign language)
If you strong-arm us
into accepting whatever deal you strike,
you're going to banish us from our own country.
We would be seen as traitors.
There would be no space, there would be no room for us.
The Taliban are extremists
so you may see a bloodbath on the streets of Kabul.
So this was not a simple matter of negotiation
in a difference of opinion over policy,
this is about the future of my country, my people,
quite literally, our lives.
(slow string music)
(Graeme): Those left behind will live
under Taliban rule, something they could not ever have imagined.
(speaking foreign language)
(Graeme): Already, threats to her life
had forced Farahnaz Forotan to flee the country.
Shaharzad Akbar chose to stay until the last minute,
even as she saw her dreams for the future vanish.
(Rahmatullah Amiri): People want peace,
that's one thing.
How they want it
is subject to different interpretations,
different groups, different ethnicities,
different areas.
Most of the people in Afghanistan
want international troops to withdraw from this country.
Having said that,
they also want the Taliban to compromise
with the other Afghans.
That's the two things.
Nobody wants to go to the Taliban Rule
of 1994 to 2001.
And nobody wants the current
corrupt government options either.
So there must be some story in between.
(Graeme): That dream of an "in-between",
of a compromise at the peace table that would include all Afghans,
crumbled with the Taliban victory.
At the time, this journey inspired me,
because I felt, however briefly,
that there was a chance for some kind of negotiated end to the war.
Now very little remains of the foreigners' plans for Afghanistan
and the dreams we inspired,
except for painted slogans on fortified walls.
Soon, even those will disappear.
(daunting music)
(indistinct chatter)
Now girls are putting their burqas back on,
and venturing out, like so many others,
into an uncertain future,
once again under Taliban rule.
(daunting music continues)
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