November 15, 2001
Valid Crossed a Border to Wage Jihad
In Kabul; Now He's a Homesick Captive
By ALAN CULLISON
Staff Reporter of THE WALL STREET JOURNAL
KABUL, Afghanistan -- Kholet Valid was a soldier
of Islam. He was educated in a religious school in
Pakistan and, in September, he and six of his school
friends answered the call for a jihad against the U.S.
in Afghanistan. Like a lot of young idealists who
became foot soldiers in Afghanistan, Mr. Valid says
he has learned quick lessons in tribulation.
After three days of boot camp, the Taliban sent him
to defend Kabul, where all his friends were killed by
American bombs. Northern Alliance troops
captured him a few hours into their offensive this
week, and deposited him, shoeless, in a mud hut
outside Kabul that serves as a makeshift prison.
"I came to Afghanistan to just look at the place, to understand what was happening," said Mr. Valid,
20. "Now I would like to go home." The experience of Mr. Valid and other raw recruits provide a
glimmer of insight into why the fearsome Taliban now seem to be evaporating so quickly.
American air power has been crucial, and the defection of some Taliban commanders helped turn the
tide. But many loyal foot soldiers weren't exactly the battle-hardened warriors one might have imagined
them to be. The inexperience and naivete of men like Mr. Valid has made the job easier, alliance
commanders say. Young recruits describe themselves as a sort of holy-war cannon fodder, long on
inspiration and short on training.
Mr. Valid answered the call to arms against the U.S. in September, when the U.S. said it would use
force to get at Osama bin Laden in Afghanistan. After the young man crossed into Afghanistan, he says
he went through military training that lasted three days -- just long enough to learn the basics of handling
a Kalashnikov.
"They taught us how to stand and shoot and maybe lie down and shoot," he said. "It wasn't much
preparation."
Northern Alliance commanders blame a host of recruits from countries like Pakistan, Saudi Arabia and
Chechnya for the persistence of Afghanistan's 20-year-old civil war. They say the foreign fighters fall
into two categories: starry-eyed idealists with little military experience, and hardened veterans who are
tough opponents in battle.
The hardened fighters would rather die than surrender, said Gol Aidar, a Northern Alliance division
commander whose troops broke through the Taliban's front lines north of Kabul earlier this week. "I
myself saw how one of them raised his hands to surrender. When one of my soldiers came up to him to
take him prisoner, he set off a bomb and blew himself to pieces," said Mr. Aidar. "My man was
wounded. After that, we became reluctant to take prisoners."
That might explain why so few prisoners appear to be taken as the Taliban are overrun throughout the
country. When Northern Alliance troops last week swept through the Taliban-held city of
Mazar-e-Sharif, a group of foreign fighters made a stand at a school near town. One alliance
commander said that 1,000 people were killed and 50 taken prisoner.
The tendency of both sides to shoot prisoners in this war makes life precarious for Mr. Valid, even
now. His guards on a military base at the edge of Kabul grumble they would like to kill him. He shares
a room in an unheated mud hut with four other shivering prisoners. Thirteen more prisoners are locked
up in a freight trailer nearby that is full of teapots and cookware.
"There were a lot of people who arrived at the front with three or four days' training and really had no
idea what they were getting into," said Sayeed Malono, who commands a division of Alliance troops on
the base. "Some of them arrived with hunting rifles."
In the fight for Kabul this week, hundreds of Afghans allied with the Taliban switched sides when it was
clear that the Northern Alliance was about to launch an overwhelming attack, Mr. Malono said. Other
experienced fighters fled when the first shots were fired, knowing that resistance was useless, he said.
Less experienced fighters like Mr. Valid were left behind. "A lot of them were killed, naturally," said
Mr. Malono.
The base where Mr. Valid is imprisoned is a testament to the problems inevitably faced by a poorly
equipped army trying to fight an enemy with superior arms and training. Before Kabul was overrun, the
base was a major arms depot and renovation center for Taliban tanks and trucks. The U.S. bombed it
relentlessly before the fall of Kabul -- even after it was deserted by Taliban troops. Two big bombs
landed in the center of the military base's two metal renovation garages, overturning trucks and ripping
both buildings to shreds. Metal shards the size of cars were blown into the air and now rest several
hundred yards above the military base on a mountainside.
Few buildings are left standing, and now Mr. Malono holds important meetings with his officers in the
bed of a pickup truck. The Taliban tried to camouflage their vehicles by pouring oil over them, and
letting the desert dust cake onto the armor. They buried other tanks, hoping that, underground, they
wouldn't be spotted by U.S. planes. But by the end of the bombing campaign, Taliban fighters
apparently decided it was too dangerous to be seen near any large vehicle, Mr. Malono said.
His division captured 40 armored vehicles on the road to Kabul. On Wednesday, his troops were
parking the tanks and troop carriers along a fence at the front of the bombed-out military base. Beneath
the layer of dust, most of the Taliban tanks were tiger-striped, and each of them painted with the
insignia of the Taliban government, and the words "Glory to God." |
