Uneasy Afghanistan truce as foes come face to face

An American officer, his Taliban counterpart and an Afghan commando spoke with unsmiling deliberation.

Afghan refugees after landing at Dulles International Airport in Virginia on Monday. Picture: AFP

Deadly foes stood talking at the gateway between the fear-filled chaos of the airport perimeter wall and the fuel-reeking runway.

Separated by no more than a few feet of earth and a waist-high strip of concertina wire, an American officer, his Taliban counterpart and an Afghan commando spoke with unsmiling deliberation in the dark of the night as they worked out how to allow a group of Afghan civilians though for evacuation.

“You’re asking us to allow another group through to you, but every time we do so the others beyond the wall go wild and start rushing the gate,” the Taliban commander, a hawk-faced southerner flanked by his own armed and black-turbaned entourage, told the American officer in response to a request to let a handful of civilians, whose documentation had been approved, to enter Kabul airport. “We are trying to prevent chaos, so don’t make it worse.”

Bursts of red tracer fire erupted along the perimeter, amid the roar of transporter engines and the decoy flares ejected from departing planes.

On the grass, behind the American’s feet, sat a few huddled groups of Afghan families lucky to get this far. A scattered band of Afghan commandos, heavily armed, hatchet-faced and much the most ferocious presence, looked on. They were due evacuation too, but in the meantime held the war close, stepping across the wire to face off with the Taliban whenever they came too near.

It remains unclear if the ceasefire between these sides will last. At present there are daily direct talks between Taliban and American officers, co-ordinated by US Rear-Admiral Peter Vasely, the senior coalition commander in Kabul. If Joe Biden puts back his August 31 deadline to extract all US forces from Afghanistan, the Taliban might attack coalition forces and fighting would begin again. If Biden adheres to the deadline, the sense of panic and desperation among the thousands of terrified Afghans around the airport gates will pose a threat of its own.

a US paratrooper help evacuees at Hamid Karzai International Airport in Kabul. Picture: US Central Command via AFP

In an incident typifying the strained last days of America’s 20-year occupation, a firefight broke out on the northern side of the airport hours after this meeting on Monday, resulting in the death of an Afghan soldier and the wounding of three others when unidentified gunmen shot at units guarding the perimeter. US and German troops also engaged the attackers.

At least 20 people, including infants and children, have died in crushes, stampedes and shootings around Kabul airport since the Taliban’s seizure of the capital – combined with the US withdrawal deadline – precipitated panic.

Yet as the adversaries, men who just over a week ago would have instantly tried to kill their foe, spoke together close to midnight on Sunday they scrutinised each other carefully. The Taliban, who now control the airport’s southern gateway, almost as far as the civilian departure terminal, stared at the Americans with a mix of cold contempt and curiosity. The American troops, many too young to remember 9/11 and on their first mission in Afghanistan, were curious too – but oddly indifferent.

“The Taliban don’t want to get into a fight with us here, and we don’t want to get into a fight with them,” the American officer, who preferred not be named, explained. “Both sides know that.”

Taliban troops patrol the Afghan capital. Picture: AFP

The two commanders spoke for a while longer, agreeing on which side of the narrow access road to the terminal each man’s fighters could stand, before separating, leaving their men caught in a staring match at the edge of an airport that has become synonymous as much with betrayal and shame as defeat and loss.

On the far side of the perimeter fence lies something akin to bedlam, where the jostling crowds, thousands strong, press in the hope of securing a place on an evacuation flight before the August 31 deadline. They are driven in squalls of fateful panic either by the approach of Taliban fighters or the sudden momentary opening of a gate to allow some through. On the inside, amid the stench of jet fuel and roars of engines, files of Afghans, redacted as individuals, are led in frightened columns towards rows of military transporters, clutching little more than weekend bags in preparation for an uncertain future.

“I don’t even know who among those who fought this war to trust any more,” said Ismatullah, a 40-year-old Hazara pushing his elderly mother in a wheelchair at the head of his family of 10 as he waited to be put on board a plane for Doha. “We have always feared the Taliban, but in the Americans we believed that our homeland had a sweeter future. That belief has led us to this place of fear and bitterness, with nothing left but the wish to escape.”

The Times