
"Who Takes Responsibility"?
Afghan Women’s
Human Rights and the Role of the United States
By Karima Bennoune
On November
17, 2001, Laura Bush delivered the first weekly presidential radio address
ever given entirely by a U.S. first lady. "The plight of women
and children in Afghanistan," she said, "is a matter of deliberate
human cruelty carried out by those who seek to intimidate and control."
Although it was positive to hear the first lady being so outspoken about
women’s issues, I remember thinking how much more powerful her argument
would be internationally if the United States had demonstrated its universal
commitment to women’s human rights by joining the 169 (now 170)
nations that had ratified the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms
of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW).
Furthermore, though the fall of the Taliban
was clearly a positive development, U.S. bombs were not gender-sensitive
and were giving rise to civilian casualties—female as well as male,
as the first lady addressed the nation. For example, Koko Gol, a thirty-year-old
Afghan woman, was reportedly killed by U.S. bombs along with her two
children on October 28, 2001, while at home sewing clothes for her brother-in-law’s
wedding, according to the Guardian newspaper.
As I listened to the first lady, I also
knew that with the overthrow of the despicable Taliban, Afghan women
had but gone from the fire into the frying pan. For, as my 1996 visit
to the country had shown me, the newly victorious Northern Alliance
also included misogynist war criminals.
In July 1996, as an Amnesty International
delegate, I traveled to Pakistan and Afghanistan’s capital city of Kabul,
prior to its fall to the Taliban. During my visit, I interviewed many
women who had been victims of a whole range of Mujahideen groups (groups
that had previously fought the Soviet Union but turned on each other
after its withdrawal, devastating what remained of the country). Many
of these groups, though not sharing the Taliban’s agenda of complete
gender apartheid, were also fundamentalists and had been brutalizing
Afghan women long before the Taliban emerged. The stories I heard firsthand
from women victims were haunting.
A woman named Habiba—who was thirty-eight
but looked sixty—was the mother of five children. In 1992, during terrible
fighting amongst Mujahideen groups for control of Kabul on the biggest
Muslim holiday of the year, her husband was killed by rocket fire while
walking home from the mosque after prayers. Hers was the ultimate Afghan
tragedy; she did not even know which armed group was responsible for
his death. But she stressed to me that her husband had been killed in
an area where there were no government buildings, only private homes.
Whichever group was responsible was attacking civilian areas, an all
too common phenomenon in the ravaged country. Habiba and her daughters
fled into exile.
Another young woman, Shokara, thirty-five,
escaped from Kabul to Peshawar in 1993 after an unspeakable tragedy.
According to her, on September 28, 1993, fighters under Gulbuddin Hekmatyar
(a former U.S.-supported warlord who recently was alleged to have tried
to overthrow the Interim Administration) and Abdul Rashid Dostum
(the Interim Administration’s Deputy Defense Minister) were fighting
each other for control of the city. Shokara’s husband was praying in
the early evening when rockets began to fall near their house. She and
her baby daughter were slightly injured and taken to the hospital. When
Shokara returned home the next day, she discovered that her husband
had been killed by rocket fire and that her other daughters, ages seven,
six, and five, had spent the night alone in the rubble with their father’s
body.
One woman, whom I will call Mena, told
me a story, the implications of which I did not fully understand at
first. A teacher, she was twenty-six and had also been forced to leave
Kabul. "With the kidnappings and rapes, a woman’s life is not safe,"
she explained. She stopped and looked up at me, "I saw a lot of
things," she said. She had watched her neighbor’s young daughters
taken from the street by men in a jeep. They had never been seen again.
When a different armed group captured her area, they found a big office
building in which more than 100 women and girls were held, some as young
as fourteen. Hesitatingly, she told me that, "Many men . . . came
and raped girls and some were then killed and their bodies were thrown
into a well." The group that later "liberated" this office
building, and has now become part of the Northern Alliance, had initially
wanted to kill the women and girls whose honor was seen as stained,
according to Mena. It occurred to me that she knew a great deal of detail
about what had happened. My Afghan interpreter turned to me and quietly
indicated that Mena was telling her own story—in the third person. As
this sank in, Mena asked me rhetorically, "Who takes responsibility?
This commander, that commander? I do not know. No one takes responsibility."
I was only able to hear these stories because
of the work of the Afghan Women’s Council, which brought the women together
in their clinic and helped gather their testimony. In Peshawar, Pakistan,
the Council publishes a newsletter and runs both a clinic and a school
for Afghan refugees, despite the abduction of one of its nurses and
frequent threats. There are a number of other Afghan women’s groups
and initiatives, including the Revolutionary Association of the Women
of Afghanistan (RAWA; www.rawa.org),
which has several thousand members and advocates for Afghan women’s
rights, and the Afghan Women’s Network, which publicizes the plight
of Afghan women internationally. When I visited Afghanistan, I already
was aware of the country’s legendary suffering. But I did not know of
the long-standing efforts of Afghan women to improve the situation,
for women and men, in their own country. Despite the devastated Kabul
neighborhoods I toured where every single dwelling and store had been
leveled by bombing, the most lasting image I have of Afghanistan is
of these intrepid women, ignored by the international community, threatened
at home, but determined to make a difference.
I remember visiting the Afghan Women’s
Council clinic in the punishing Pakistani summer heat. It was the only
healthcare facility available to many refugee women. Upon hearing our
voices—foreign voices—a pregnant woman being examined in one room bolted
off the table and came out in the hall, crying and angry, demanding
to know what the international community would do to change life for
Afghans. She, like Mena, wanted to know who would take responsibility.
This is part of what was missing for me
in Mrs. Bush’s radio address and in many discussions in this country
of the plight of Afghan women before and since—some acceptance of responsibility,
some small reminder of our own complicity in making Afghanistan a haven
for theocratic lunacy and repression of women. With our support—along
with that of Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, and other allies—of any group (no
matter how extreme its ideology) that opposed the illegal Soviet invasion
and occupation, fundamentalist armed groups mushroomed. The United States’s
support reportedly included weapons, training, and copious funding (according
to the BBC, 3.3 billion dollars). As Amnesty International noted in
a 1995 report, "Since 1979, the human rights crisis in Afghanistan
has been exacerbated by outside powers. The Soviet Union, the United
States, and governments in countries neighboring Afghanistan have consistently
put their political interests above the human rights of Afghans."
Though fundamentalist movements are clearly produced by both internal
and external forces in any context, we must remember that the Taliban
may never have risen to power had we and the former Soviet Union not
played a cold war game with the life of another country.
Furthermore, now that the United States
has removed the Taliban from power and, in part, bolstered its claim
for the right to do so on that force’s brutal repression of women, we
have an even greater obligation to do all we can to ensure that Afghan
women are effectively able to realize their rights. Writing in The
Nation magazine, journalist Jan Goodwin suggested that the two key
elements necessary to achieve this are funding and security.
With regard to funding, the World Bank
predicted that the reconstruction of Afghanistan might cost about ten
billion dollars over the next ten years, however, so far the international
community has only pledged some 4.5 billion dollars, and even that reportedly
has not been forthcoming. The United States pledged 296 million dollars
at the Tokyo Conference in January 2002, which, as Goodwin points out,
is paltry compared to the one billion dollars per month that the U.S.
government says it spends on the war on terrorism. Two hundred and ninety-six
million dollars is but a drop in the bucket of the "Marshall Plan"
Amnesty International recently called for to reconstruct Afghanistan,
but should be immediately forthcoming as a first step. Additionally,
Congress and the Bush administration must fully fund the "Afghan
Women and Children Relief Act," enacted in December 2001 to provide
education and healthcare for Afghan women and children.
On the security front, Human Rights Watch
has called on the international community to support the expansion of
the mandate and duration of the International Security Assistance Force
in Afghanistan (ISAF) and more than sixty aid groups have also called
directly on the United Nations Security Council to do so. A viable international
peacekeeping force that could be deployed not only in Kabul but throughout
the entire country could help ensure security for Afghan women, particularly
if it included a gender-sensitive human rights monitoring component.
It is vital that the U.S. government support such a plan. In addition,
U.S. forces should immediately desist in providing direct support to
individual warlords in Afghanistan, as has recently been reported by
human rights groups.
Improving Afghan women’s human rights is
not merely a question of substituting one fundamentalist armed group
for another, but of disbanding and disarming such groups and replacing
them with viable, gender-sensitive national institutions. So far, the
celebrated Ministry of Women’s Affairs is reportedly so starved for
funding that it can barely pay its staff. Former Women’s Affairs Minister
Sima Samar, recognized by President Bush during his State of the Union
Address, has so far not been given a post in the new Afghan government,
nor has her position been filled. Instead, she has been threatened with
charges of blasphemy. In this climate, the Bush administration’s vocal
support for the inclusion and empowerment of Afghan women is vital.
Direct financial assistance to the women’s ministry and insistence on
security for its staff are essential.
With regard to providing funding and security
to support Afghan women, time is of the essence. I was horrified to
read in an aptly titled Human Rights Watch document "Return of
the Warlords: June 2002" that, "in many ways, Afghanistan
today resembles Afghanistan in the early 1990s, when regional commanders
were consolidating their power before the onset of the savage civil
war that followed the fall of the Soviet-sponsored Communist government."
The early 1990s was the period in which most of the Afghan women whose
harrowing stories I heard on my trip were victimized. How many more
Shokaras, Menas, and Habibas will there be in the months to come? Many,
if the United States and the international community continue to bemoan
the plight of Afghan women without fully embracing the responsibility
to help them reshape, rebuild, and reclaim their country.
Bearing this in mind, I want to challenge
the government of the United States and the new government of Afghanistan,
as a first step, to ratify CEDAW together. Both nations have signed,
but not ratified, the convention that requires states to take comprehensive
measures to combat a range of violations of women’s human rights, including
gender-based violence. Afghanistan signed on in August 1980 while under
Soviet occupation; the United States did so in July of the same year
under the Carter administration. Both the Soviet invasion and subsequent
Reagan administration’s support for virtually any group that would oppose
the invasion contributed to the grave deterioration of Afghan women’s
human rights that followed. By ratifying CEDAW together, the United
States and Afghanistan can begin to break the link to that terrible
past. Through subsequent actions to implement these treaty obligations,
life can be concretely improved for Afghan women.
Though CNN’s cameras have left Kabul to
cover other urgent stories, our commitment to the rights of Afghan women
must not wane. As we have discovered, in the most tragic of ways, our
fate and theirs are linked. Nothing could better symbolize the positive
aspects of that connection and the renunciation of its dark side than
the simultaneous ratification of CEDAW by the United States and Afghanistan.
Ratification by each country requires successfully challenging religious
fundamentalists and extremists, the very thing that many Afghan women
see as crucial to winning their long-term human rights struggle. Ultimately,
ratification would represent a visible international acceptance of legal
responsibility for ensuring women’s human rights.
Karima Bennoune, a former legal advisor
for Amnesty International, is an assistant professor at Rutgers School
of Law in Newark, New Jersey.