Long Journey Back to Heaven

November 02, 2009

By Mustafa Qadri

But returning the Swat Valley to its former pristine self is a massive task that will take years of planning and funding. While the Pakistan Government has already paid Rs25,000 ($US300) each to 125,000 displaced families, the United States a further $US415 million in humanitarian aid for the displaced, and Britain $US36 million, the United Nations estimates that the cost of completely rehabilitating these former war zones will cost billions.

On paper, total aid pledged to Pakistan thus far appears impressive. Pakistan has secured over $US5 billion in pledges from the Friends of Democratic Pakistan group that includes the United States, United Kingdom, Australia and the United Nations, as well as $US7.5 billion over the next five years from the United States and a further $US11.7 billion from the International Monetary Fund. But Pakistan government bureaucrats familiar with the aid packages privately express doubts that all of the pledges will be met, and there is scepticism about Pakistan’s capacity to administer the necessary funding and services.

Ordinary village and townsfolk also remain wary of Pakistan’s formal democratic process. Wealthy and influential locals, including politicians, quickly fled once the fighting erupted, leaving them exposed to the Taliban’s excesses. They remain fearful of returning to their communities even now that the Army appears to have vanquished the Taliban.

And the threat of a return to violence is ever present. Although the army has physically reclaimed most of the Swat valley and either killed or captured senior insurgent leaders, many remain at large while huge pockets of remote mountainous terrain make a possible future return a real threat. There is also sporadic terrorism, like the suicide bombing of an army convoy in a busy market place in early October that claimed 27 lives.

According to residents throughout Malakand, including the Buner district, which remains the closest the Taliban has ever come to Pakistan’s capital Islamabad, and Dir on the cusp of the Afghan border, the Taliban have recommenced their clandestine radio broadcasts after a two-month hiatus, and started to distribute propaganda audio and video tapes recording their claimed victories against the Pakistan Army and international forces in Afghanistan. Adding to the drama is the mystery surrounding the whereabouts of Swat Taliban leader Maulana Fazlullah. Although reportedly cornered by security forces in a remote mountain range in September there has been no word about his capture.

Yet despite this grim picture there are glimmers of hope. One positive development is the formation of Aman Tehreek, or Peace Movement, a grassroots network established by teachers, trading bodies and ordinary citizens with the express objective of seeking a peaceful and sustainable resolution to the current conflict. Peace groups have proliferated in several towns recently liberated in the tribal areas, often with the aim of brokering ceasefire agreements between security forces and local pro-Taliban fighters or to assist communities in the rehabilitation process. Like these other groups, Aman Tehreek’s immediate concern is trying to facilitate humanitarian assistance and rehabilitation for the war-torn communities of the North West Frontier Province. But what makes it unique is its longer-term objective of seeking to prevent future radicalisation. It hopes to achieve this by promoting education, development, and traditional Pashtun culture—like music, dance and poetry—long suppressed by militant Islamism.

‘There’s a social, moral and political breakdown of Pakistani society,’ said Raza Rabbani, a Pakistan Peoples Party senator in the federal parliament, at a recent Aman Tehreek gathering in Islamabad. Ziauddin Yousufzai, the local school teacher, is also a member and coordinator of Aman Tehreek. Education, he notes, is the key to preventing future extremism. He should know. Working at one of the last schools to defy Taliban edicts and teach girls in Swat, he has witnessed how low levels of literacy, poor employment prospects and the marginalisation of women have been wellsprings of opportunity for extremists.

Still, Aman Tehreek and other grassroots initiatives to rebuild local communities perhaps explain why people like Mohammad Yahya, something of an elder statesman and former mayor of a town in the Swat valley, can remain optimistic. ‘This is our homeland. It is like heaven to us.’