 |
|
Afghan government has long been operating at minimal levels
11/06/2001
KABUL, Afghanistan – It was almost noon, but a clock on the wall at the
Telecommunications Ministry read 8:35 a.m. A guard said it has been that
way for years.
U.S. Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld told reporters in Pakistan on
Sunday that the Taliban is "not really functioning as a government" and
that its power is limited to enclaves after four weeks of bombing.
Determining whether the U.S. bombing campaign has had much effect on the
Taliban's ability to govern is difficult. Even in the best of times, the
Afghan government – regardless of who is running it – stumbles along at
a minimal level of efficiency.
Major government ministries in Kabul are still open for business,
although some employees have packed up their families and fled to
Pakistan or the relative safety of rural villages.
The Health Ministry has no doors at the entrance of its four-story
headquarters. But the minister, Mullah Abbas Akhund, is there at his
desk, meeting with hospital administrators, doctors, and bureaucrats. He
said there isn't much to do because the ministry is low on money and
medicine.
In the cities of Jalalabad and Kandahar, Western reporters taken on
escorted tours have said that the Taliban appeared to be in control.
Access to officials and residents, though, was limited.
Even before the bombing, the real center of the Taliban's power was not
in the capital, Kabul, but in Kandahar, the southern birthplace of the
Taliban and home of its spiritual leader, Mullah Mohammed Omar.
The Taliban maintains control over the rest of the country by
dispatching mullahs from Kandahar to serve as local governors.
Government policy is determined by consensus among a few key Islamic
clerics who have been with Mr. Omar since the Taliban took shape in
1994. If no consensus emerges, he makes the final call – even though he
holds no real constitutional or Cabinet post.
After decades of civil war and grinding poverty, Afghans have come to
expect little – including from their government.
The 12-story building that houses the Telecommunications Ministry, which
also functions as the phone company, has an elevator shaft. There is no
elevator.
On the third floor, stacks of yellowed files bound with string fill the
shelves. Ministry worker Mohammed Arif believes that they are old bills.
No one has ever bothered to check them, said Mr. Arif, who has worked
there for 36 years.
Billings are a big problem, Mr. Arif said, because of electricity
shortages – more a legacy of civil war than U.S. aerial strikes. One
computer in the basement tallies up the number of hours each customer
spends on the phone.
"Most of the time it works," Mr. Arif said.
Mr. Arif, who wears the Taliban-mandated turban and beard, sees himself
more as a bureaucrat than a fighter.
"We are professionals," he said. "Governments come and go. What is it to
us?"
Mohammed Iqas, a Taliban official who wears a green turban and a brown
shawl to protect his shoulders against the cold, sits in a spacious
office on the eighth floor.
Mr. Iqas' job is to check the papers of customers applying for digital
phones. When everything is in order, he calls another department and
orders the phone.
"Of course, it is war time and things are bad," Mr. Iqas said. "But I
have hope for the future."