Es ist natürlich fast unmöglich, diese Frage in einer Reportage zu beantworten. Ghaith Abdul-Ahad wagt diesen Versuch am Beispiel von Mazar-i-Sharif, einst die säkularste, liberalste afghanische Städte. Es entsteht ein gemischtes Bild aus verschiedenen Episoden, berichtet von sehr unterschiedlichen Akteuren. Mazar-i-Sharif ist eine vergleichsweise wohlhabende Stadt, sie liegt an wichtigen Handelsrouten, die Umgebung ist fruchtbar, die Landwirtschaft ertragreich.

In the first two decades of the 21st century, it was dominated by warlords whose militias had defeated the Taliban. During this time, money surged into the city. And yet, last August, Mazar fell to the Taliban even before cities in the Taliban’s southern heartland, such as Kandahar. The reason, in large part, was local anger at the way their city had been run in the previous 20 years.

Und nun, sieben Wochen seit dem Rückzug der USA aus Afghanistan, sitzt der von den Taliban eingesetzte Polizeichef, gleichzeitig der stellvertretende Gouverneur der Provinz Balkh, deren Hauptstadt Mazar ist, in seinem Büro , löst Probleme und spricht Recht nach den Regeln der Scharia. 

Throughout the day, men – and there were only men – entered the room, squatting on the floor in front of Abu Idrees. In hushed voices, they pleaded their cases, answered summons or pledged their undying support to the Taliban regime. In theory, anyone could come and demand an audience, something unheard of under the previous government, when people had to pay bribes and pull strings to see even a low-ranking police officer, let alone the police chief himself.

Eine durchaus bemerkenswerte Veränderung. Und der Artikel sucht weitere Unterschiede zur ersten Herrschaft der Taliban vor 20 Jahren. So berichtet eine ehemalige Regierungsangestellte:

 “I am very sensitive even to the word Taliban,” she said in a voice message. “They are the same Taliban, but they are aware that if they try to implement any of their real policies, people will protest and post on social media. In their first government they didn’t care about what the international organisations or the media said, but now they are very sensitive about their public image. Activists and human rights workers are being disappeared in the middle of the night. The Taliban are desperate for recognition from the international community, so whatever horrors they do, they do in secret.”

Ein früherer Kommandant der Regierungstruppen, schildert offen, wie letztendlich die korrupten, gierigen Warlords, ihre Kämpfer den Taliban zutrieben um dann die Regierung zu verraten:

“I had 100 soldiers in my group, but they were not getting their wages. Even I sometimes had to borrow money. Soldiers were forced to sell their ammunition. The Taliban were buying it. Sometimes they were even buying checkpoints or military posts from the army and police officers. They would hire someone inside bases to gather information and convince the soldiers not to fight,” he said. “In the last days, the soldiers just stopped fighting.” He paused for some time, before adding: “We were the ones who crashed the government because of the corruption. The Taliban didn’t capture it, we brought it to collapse. We couldn’t fight, we sold it.”

Die Frage "Quo Vadis Afghanistan" wird nicht wirklich beantwortet. Eher entsteht das Gefühl von Verwirrung. Zum Schluß vielleicht auch die Ahnung, dass unsere Auseinandersetzung mit dem radikalen, bewaffneten Islam noch nicht am Ende ist, wenn ein Kämpfer formuliert:

“In my heart and soul, I love mujahideen of al-Qaida, and I tell my Muslim brother to carry your sword and fight the infidels, and to follow the saying of the prophet, that jihad will continue until judgment day.”