By Markus Feldenkirchen, Matthias Gebauer and Susanne Koelbl
Mullah Salam, the leader of the Taliban in Kunduz, is the Germans' main adversary. Salam is about 40, has medium-length brown hair and usually wears a shiny embroidered cap on his head. He also has a large potbelly.
An intelligence photo depicts the Taliban member with an almost mild expression on his face, sitting cross-legged on a mat with a mobile telephone in his hand. However, to avoid being tracked he rarely makes calls and he travels in various disguises. Even in Kunduz, he never sleeps in the same house for two nights in a row.
For the Taliban, Kunduz is the strategic heart of the north. About 40 percent of the province's inhabitants are Pashtuns, the ethnic group from which the Taliban recruits most of its members. Fighters can go into hiding easily and are able to turn to old supporters in Kunduz. They are tightly organized into small units, which are activated for individual missions. The Germans are their preferred targets.
Salam's forces have fired rockets at the German camp in Kunduz many times. The Bundeswehr holds Salam responsible for the roadside bombs used against their convoys and for the murders of three German soldiers on the city's market square on May 19, 2007, and for all other subsequent attacks. Most recently, on June 23, three German soldiers drowned when their armored vehicle crashed into a water ditch after an attack. Further bloody attacks are planned to coincide with this week's election.
Salam's strong connections to the Taliban Shura council in the Pakistani city of Quetta, the insurgents' most senior decision-making body, make him a particularly insidious threat. Only this spring, Mullah Baradar, the second-in-command in the Taliban hierarchy next to Mullah Omar, who has gone almost completely underground, issued a decree code-named "Nusrat," or "The Victory." In the directive, Baradar ordered his commanders to ramp up their activities in northern Afghanistan, including Kunduz.
It is now up to Mullah Salam to implement Baradar's plan and make life a living hell for the Germans. "The Germans, together with the Afghan army, have not managed to gain the upper hand over our fighters," Qari Bashir, one of Salam's commanders, scoffs in a telephone conversation. "We have far fewer men, but we are more courageous. German mothers will have to send many more coffins to Afghanistan for their sons."
A Reputation for Being Cowards
Before May 19, 2007, the day on which a suicide bomber targeted and killed three Bundeswehr soldiers who were at the bazaar to buy refrigerators, the Germans felt exceedingly comfortable in Kunduz.
The soldiers had long joked about serving in what they called "Bad Kunduz," because nothing resembling war was happening there. German paratroopers drove out of their camp smiling and waving, met with the village elders, known as maliks, and drank large quantities of green tea. They also repaired bridges and dug wells.
This cozy prologue to the current situation is probably the reason that the Germans have a reputation among many Afghans for being cowards who shirk real combat. The governor of Kunduz, Mohammed Omar, shares that opinion.
Omar is sitting on a red floor cushion. He wears his dark-blonde beard shortly trimmed, and the shirt under his vest is freshly ironed. But his eyes are red from crying: His brother, a local police chief, was killed the night before.
The Taliban attacked his police station to free supporters being held there. The police chief and his bodyguard were killed, a police officer was seriously injured, and the Taliban supporters were freed. "We will find the culprits," the governor says quietly.
Mohammed Omar, known locally simply as Engineer Omar, has nothing good to say about the Bundeswehr soldiers today. In fact, he is deeply disappointed. He complains that the Germans are not willing to seriously challenge the Taliban. "The last operation against the Taliban in Chahar Dara was unsuccessful, because the soldiers were hardly prepared to stage air strikes. They are overly cautious, and they don't even get out of their vehicles. They should leave, and the Americans should replace them. The Americans would finally provide security."
Guests enter the governor's house to offer their condolences. They kiss Omar's hands, mumble a few words and sit down on the floor cushions without saying anything. "The anti-government resistance in Kunduz is controlled from Pakistan," says Omar. At first, he says, only a few local residents supported the movement, but in the run-up to the election, Pakistan's intelligence service has activated its sources in Kunduz. "What kind of a response do the Germans have to that?"
The governor is beginning to sound agitated. A man hands him an old photo of him and his brother. His eyes fill with tears. He excuses himself, saying that it is time for him to pray.
'If I Don't Shoot, They'll Kill My Soldiers'
"Sure, Kunduz has changed," says Colonel Georg Klein. He is sitting in his office at the reconstruction team headquarters in Kunduz, adjusting his glasses. Kunduz has also changed him, says Klein. "I really don't want to shoot at other people. They're people, too, after all. But if I don't shoot, they'll kill my soldiers." His words reflect the logic of the war.
Four soldiers have died since Klein became the commander of German forces in Kunduz. He is deeply troubled by the deaths, he says, but adds that it is now time to "look forward." The people of Kunduz deserve the Germans' help, he says, noting that they are proud and hardworking, and are making a genuine effort to get back on their feet.
Klein sips his tea. He knows that the coming years will be even more difficult than the past few years. He wants to see the peaceful conditions of the past return to the region, and yet he finds himself caught in the midst of the violence of the present.
He says that the Germans have already chalked up some successes in Afghanistan. Countless roads and bridges have been built in Kunduz, and 1,800 households now have access to clean water. In the troubled Chahar Dara district, says Klein, employees of the German Agency for Technical Cooperation (GTZ) have built a tomato paste factory, which now sells its entire production to Kabul's only five-star hotel, the Serena.
Germans, he says, have financed an auto repair academy and are helping beekeepers establish a livelihood. Why doesn't anyone mention these achievements, Klein asks?
Progress is the Germans' most powerful weapon, which is why the Taliban detest the reconstruction efforts. Afghans want electricity and roads but, most of all, they want to survive.
Bad for Business
The police patrol the streets by day, and the Taliban are in control at night, says Muallim Kabir, an elderly man with a long white beard and a mustard-colored turban. He is standing in a clothing shop in downtown Kunduz, examining a blue-green silk chapan coat.
Prices have dropped now that the security situation in Kunduz has deteriorated. Less security is bad for business. Instead of the 3,500 afghanis (about 50, or $71) the coat would normally cost, Kabir offers the shopkeeper 2,500 afghanis. In the end he buys the coat for 2,800 afghanis.
Kabir is a Pashtun and a member of several village councils. He says that he plans to bide his time to see who gains the upper hand -- the government and the foreign troops, or the Taliban. In the end, he says, he doesn't want to be on the side of the losers. In a country like Afghanistan, that's a dangerous place to be.
Translated from the German by Christopher Sultan
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