Shadows of Shamali: A Living Memorial of Terror and Tragedy
Uncovering the Forgotten Scorched-Earth Tactic of the Taliban in Shamali Plain, 1999. A Reflection on Loss, Resilience, and the Need for Justice.
A map of Shamali Plain, stretching north from Kabul toward Bagram
August 04, 2023 - In the undulating expanses of the Shamali Plain, the air hangs heavy with an ominous silence. A silence not born of tranquility but one tinged with terror, despair, and a violence so profound it has seeped into the soil, absorbed into the very essence of the land. This is a silence that speaks, whispering the tales of August 1999 when the Taliban's terror descended upon the ethnic Tajiks of Shamali Plain, a plateau just north of Kabul.
A magnificent beauty, marred by the haunting shadows of the past. Dr. Ramin's thread below leads us down this path of memory, like the dark corridors of a forgotten catacomb, illuminating the methodical destruction, brutal carnage, and heinous crimes perpetrated by the Taliban terrorists.
NY Times (1999): Onslaught by the Taliban Leaves Afghans Dead or Homeless
Imagine for a moment the Vietnam Memorial, a tribute etched in stone. Now envision the names and faces, the stories behind them. The Shamali tragedy, too, is etched into the hearts of those who endured it, a living memorial, haunting and indelible.
Children walk through ruins in the Qarabagh district in the Shomali Plain of Afghanistan on April 13. Two decades later, the Taliban’s destruction is still visible. STEFANIE GLINSKI FOR FOREIGN POLICY
It was a scorched-earth tactic, one designed to not merely defeat but eradicate, to obliterate a people's identity, their dignity, their history. Houses were torched, livestock gunned down, fruit trees severed, and irrigation canals ruptured. Men, women, and children abandoned all they knew, fleeing to refuge while leaving behind the charred remains of their lives.
Approximately 65,000 made their way to safety, their faces etched with loss, their minds laden with the atrocities they had witnessed. The Taliban's 6,000 soldiers, supported by tanks and air bombardments, marched through Shamali, a false celebration of victory echoing through the desolation.
But they were met with resistance. The legendary Commander Ahmad Shah Massoud's forces thwarted the Taliban's offensive, resulting in the death of over 1,000 of their fighters. Most came from the South and East of Afghanistan, some even speaking languages more common to Pakistan.
The Taliban terrorists’ intent was clear: to eliminate ethnic Tajiks, whose resistance had been and is unwavering today. Their fascist policies were palpable in their actions and their crimes corroborated by reputable sources. The aftermath, captured in images, leaves our souls scarred.
The Guardian (1999): Afghan rulers drive 130,000 from homes
Children orphaned, women subjected to unspeakable acts, many taken as sex slaves. The world seemed to turn away for twenty years, uninterested in this chapter of human cruelty.
The atrocities of August 1999 in Shamali may have been silenced by the disgraceful nature of the incidents. Reports of sexual assault and other heinous crimes were suppressed due to many factors, including societal norms such as valuing a false sense of chivalry, family honor, and dignity.
The reluctance to confront painful memories and the attempts to conceal defeat against the Taliban terrorists further perpetuates the silence. Collective mindset and projection theory have created a culture that refuses to admit mistakes, leading to the denial of responsibility and a failure to learn.
8AM News (2023): The Taliban’s Scorched Land Policy in Shamali and Our Collective Amnesia
This silence, the disregard for the tragedy, can be likened to a wall, much like the Vietnam Memorial, but one that obscures rather than honors. Why this neglect? As hinted above, the complexity of Afghanistan's situation, its status as a developing country, the focus on survival over historical memory, but mostly, due to the manipulation of history to suit various agendas.
Furthermore, the preservation of our collective memories is often overshadowed by the pressing demands of survival. In a country relying heavily on oral tradition and where writing or documenting events hasn’t been prioritized, memories become subjective, shaped and erased by hidden forces for their own agenda. The world learns from history, yet Afghanistan's selective and sometimes biased approach to its recent history hampers unbiased research and lacks scientific rigor.
The world's apathy too, is a stain on our collective conscience, a missing plaque on the memorial wall of humanity. But the whispers continue, the echoes of the past calling for remembrance, reflection, and justice.
Like the Vietnam Memorial, which stands as a timeless symbol of loss and recognition, the memory of the Shamali tragedy calls for its own monument, a monument to truth, a tribute to resilience, and a neverending call for justice.
Failures, though painful, serve as a catalyst for learning and progress, contributing more to the accumulation of experience than victories do. Germany, recognizing their weaknesses following World War II, made comprehensive efforts to address and learn from their loss. The same must be done for Afghanistan. Embracing the weaknesses and failures, documenting and reassessing past actions, and fostering a culture of responsibility is an essential duty for strengthening historical memory and avoiding the repetition of tragic events.
The Shamali Plain waits, and we must answer.
