Malalai of Maiwand- Pashtun heroine of the Second Anglo-Afghan War

July 27th 2010 marks the 130 th anniversary of the historic Battle of Maiwand, a battle in which a brave young Pashtun girl name Malalai lost her life. She was a native of Khig, a tiny village on the edge of the Maiwand battlefield, and the daughter of a shepard. Both her father and fiance joined with Ayub Khan's army in the attack on the British on that day (which some say was also her wedding day), and like many women, Malalai was there to help tend to the wounded and provide water and spare weapons. Eventually there came a point in the battle where the Afghan army, despite their superior numbers, started to lose morale and the tide seemed to be turning in favor of the British. Seeing this, Malalai took off her veil and shouted out:


"Young love! If you do not fall in the battle of Maiwand,
By God, someone is saving you as a symbol of shame!" 


In her native language Pashto:
"Ka pa maiwand ki shaheed na shway..
Khudai julalaya, be-nangi ta di sateena! "


This inspired the Afghan fighters to redouble their efforts. After one of the leading flag-bearers fell from a British bullet, Malalai went forward and held up the flag (some versions say she made a flag out of her veil), singing a landai:


"With a drop of my sweetheart's blood,
Shed in defense of the Motherland,
Will I put a beauty spot on my forehead,
Such as would put to shame the rose in the garden,"

But then Malalai was herself struck down and killed. However, her words had spurred on her countrymen and soon the British lines gave way, broke and turned, leading to a disastrous retreat back to Kandahar and the biggest defeat for the Anglo-Indian army in the Second Afghan War. Ayub Khan after wards gave a special honor to Malalai and she was buried at her village, where her grave can still be found.


British sources, unsurprisingly, do not mention Malalai. Her actions may not have been noticed by any of the British, or they may not have seemed as consequential as they were to the Afghans. Afghan women are very rarely mentioned at all in the reports and narratives of the war (Hensman mentions that one woman was found among the dead at Ahmed Khel). Interestingly, it is the Afghans who provide some of the evidence for one of the other legends born at the battle of Maiwand, as it is from one of Ayub's artillery colonels that we learn some of the details of the famous last stand of the 66th, clutching to their company colors, in a Khig garden, where indeed the fallen bodies were later found to be lying.


As well as Malalai, there were many other factors in the Afghan's favor on that day, including preferential terrain and positioning, superior numbers, skilled use of outnumbering artillery, and perhaps some bad decisions on the British side of things. But certainly her actions were enough to turn her into a national hero where she is still revered today. Many schools and hospitals have been erected in her memory and to this day Malalai is also a very popular girl's name in her native land. Malalai, the brave Pashtun Afghan girl who gave her life in defense of her homeland, will never be forgotten. Last year I was inspired by her memory to write the following poem:

  "Our Children Will Ask Us"

Our children will ask us why none of us stood up for what was right
What will be our answer to those sad faces if we don't at least fight

No Pashtun male ever wants to be made to feel dishonored or ashamed
But if they do nothing, like cowards, for our condition they will be blamed

My sisters from our beloved heroine Malalai of Maiwand let us learn
We all have an important role to play in this battle and now is our turn

We are their cherished mothers, their sisters, their daughters their wives
For their familie's honor we know they would gladly sacrifice their lives

We must encourage all of our men to take some action and to bravely fight
They must boldly face the darkness before there can be hope of any light

This monument, Minar-i-Maiwand, commemorates the battle fought between the British under General Burrows and the Afghans under Sardar Ayub Khan, at Maiwand, 45 miles from Qandahar, on 27 July, 1880. The column was erected by His Majesty King Zahir Shah in 1959. The inscription on the monument is the Pashto words Malalai said that day to inspire the Afghans to victory.

 

A sign outside of  the Malalai Maternity Hospital in Kabul.

Portions of this article were taken from an article by Garen Ewing on this website http://www.garenewing.co.uk/angloafghanwar/biography/malalai.php

Five beautiful black and white portraits of Pashtuns

I believe all of these portraits were taken in Peshawar. The first photo was credited to R. B. Holmes from his collection of Afghan War Photographs, 1919. The two after were taken for a book of world costumes. The fourth I have no information. The fifth appears to be from National Geographic Magazine.

Pashtun Female Fashion

The most elegant female fashion in Afghanistan belongs to the Pashtuns.. The Pashtuns use a variety of stitching techniques, which vary from one region to the next. The most elaborate embroidering is done on the bodice of the dress and the sleeve cuffs. The embroidery for the bodice can either be done on the actual fabric of the dress or at times, on a coarser material, which is then stitched onto the dress. The hem of the dress is adorned with gilded brocades and thick gilded thread that is twisted and shaped to form various designs. Contrast colors are also used to add beauty to the skirt and sleeve hems.

The length of the Pashtun dresses vary from ankle-length gowns to shorter dresses that come to mid-thigh. The styles change according to the fashion of the time. This is also true of the length of the sleeves. Although they are never short, the sleeves can either end just below the elbow or continue down to the wrist. The sleeve styles are gathered at the upper arms and either widen towards the cuffs or fit tightly around the wrist
.
The fabric most often used to make these dresses is silk and velvet in rich colors. During the warmer seasons the women opt for printed cotton and rayon fabrics in bright colors. The combination of colors is amazingly attractive.

Underneath the dress, the women wear drawstring trousers, which are usually made from a different fabric than the dress and in contrast color. Like the sleeves, the styles of the trousers also vary. Typically, they are loose fitting on the top and gathered firmly at the waist with a string. The cuffs of the trousers can either be made to fit very tight around the ankles or they can fit loosely. Sometimes the same gilded brocades that are used on the hem of the skirts are also used to adorn the cuffs of the trousers.

As All Afghan women, Pashtun women cover their heads with colorful silk or cotton garments (Shawls). These shawls have decorative needle work borders sometime adorned with silver coins. Most of them are printed with bright colorful designs. They have different names in different areas. The most common name is Chadar or sadar. Larger covers are worn outside and smaller lightweight chadars at home.

 Pashtuns wear silver jewelry with colorful stones as chokers, wide bracelets, rings, large multi earrings, and beautiful head pieces and nose ring. Also, colorful beads with beautify designs are common among Pustuns.

Blue-Green permanent beauty marks in the form of dots and patterns are sometimes tattooed between eyebrows, chin and one cheek in some rural areas on young Pashtun women. This custom was practiced as a belief to protect one from the evil eye. It became a fashion trend later, mostly among Koochees (nomads).

http://afghanethnicdolls.com/description%20pages/pashtuns.html

Afghan poets tackle scars of war

 

  

By Dawood Azami

The violence in Afghanistan and the Pashtun-inhabited parts of Pakistan is making itself felt on the cultural and social life of the Pashtuns. New themes and terms, such as suicide attack, missile and helicopter have entered Pashto literature, especially poetry, reflecting the destructive nature of the insurgency and counter-insurgency operations.
Pashtuns (also known as Pathans, Pakhtuns or Afghans) are increasingly writing poems about the "ill fate" of their nation and the new dynamics of violence in their homeland.
Young poets in Kabul, such as Muhammad Numan Dost, tell of mourning children lying on the graves of their dead parents after a suicide bomber "in exchange for heaven, cut to pieces a few lives now lying on the street".
It is powerful language, and reflects a strong poetic tradition in a culture that is evolving with the times.
"Poets are inspired by what is happening in the outside world. Their imagination absorbs it," says veteran Pashto poet in Peshawar, Rahmat Shah Sael.  "That is why Pashto poets are writing about violence in one way or another." Poetry has always been a powerful vehicle for expressing and preserving the national identity and cultural value of Pashtuns.
The Pashtun warrior poet, Khushhal Khan Khattak (1613 - 1689) and mystic Rahman Baba (1653-1711) are the two giants of Pashto poetry and literature and are still popular and a great source of inspiration.
Even today gatherings are held regularly throughout the region where poets present their work in front of a large audience.

Afghan tradition


Pashtuns are famous for their proud warrior tradition, but suicide attacks have never been part of it.
The phenomenon was imported by Arab fighters, particularly from Iraq, and is now being perfected in Afghanistan and Pakistan.


The first suicide attack in Afghanistan, by Arabs, occurred in 2001 but the tactic remained rare until 2005.
The tactic targets officials and national and international security forces. However, their victims are overwhelmingly civilians.
Suicide attackers are often motivated by religious rewards and duty. Most are young and uneducated
and are said to be mobilised by grievances such as the occupation of Afghanistan, anger over civilian casualties and what they see as the affront to their honour and dignity.
They are reportedly brainwashed during their training and told they will go to heaven and enjoy eternal peace and pleasure.
This theme of violence is playing out in other genres in Pashto, such as short stories. But it is more visible in poetry.
"It is not the poets' choice to write about war and violence, they are compelled to do so - to express their reaction and hatred to bloodshed," says Darwesh Durrani, a popular Pashto poet and professor of literature in Quetta.
One young poet, Ahmad Fawad Lamay, has a poem called To A Suicide Attacker, in which a victim of a suicide attack challenges the bomber.
Then there is Zarlasht Hafeez, a female Pashto poet who has published a collection called "Waiting for Peace". Her lines read:

"The sorrow and grief, these black evenings,

Eyes full of tears and times full of sadness,

These burnt hearts, the killing of youths,

These unfulfilled expectations and unmet hopes of brides,

With a hatred for war, I call time and again,

I wait for peace for the grief-stricken Pashtuns" 

 

 http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/8008754.stm

The suffering of the Pashtun people

The Psycholgical effects of terrorism

A psychiatric patient waits in a crowded hallway to see a doctor at the Shafique Psychiatric Clinic. There are only 30 licensed psychiatrists in the war-torn Northwest Frontier Province

Rahimullah tries to calm his father, Khairullah, with prayer beads at the Shafique Psychiatric Clinic in the Pakistan city of Peshawar, where violence has become a constant scourge causing epidemic mental distress.

At the Khyber Teaching Hospital in Peshawar, a distressed patient waits for aid. The province has only 250 psychiatric beds available for a population of over 25 million.

In the Qisa Khawani bazaar in Peshawar’s old city, shops are left charred after a bomb hidden in a motorcycle tore through the area on May 28. Constant bomb blasts have pushed many Peshawaris to the edge of madness

With no end to violence in sight, psychiatrists in Peshawar fear that the constant psychological pressures like those that haunt Khairullah could have tragic consequences for future generations as well.

_______________________________

“In Peshawar, violence leaves deep psychological scars“

an article by Adnan R. Khan

According to Dr. Wajid Ali, resident psychiatrist at the Hayatabad Medical Complex in Peshawar, as many as 70 percent of the population in NWFP is affected by acute psychiatric illnesses. “Those are the clinical cases,” he says, flipping through a mound of patient files on his desk, “the ones that need medical intervention. But everyone is suffering from some degree of psychological trauma – depression, anxiety, agoraphobia. The entire society is feeling the pressure.” Incessant violence is the reason. In the NWFP alone, more than 400 people have been killed in terrorist attacks since October 2009, nearly matching the total number of civilian deaths in the province for all of 2004. A truck bomb killed nearly 100 people at a New Year’s Day volleyball tournament in Lakki Marwat near the South Waziristan tribal agency, where an ongoing military operation has prompted the Pakistani Taliban to unleash a wave of attacks across the country.
Innocent civilians have borne the brunt of the bombings. “We used to say bad things only happen to bad people,” says Dr. Ali. “These days, bad things happen to good people.”
Children are some of the worst affected by the violence in NWFP, says Dr. Sayed Mohammad Sultan, head of the psychiatry department at the Khyber Teaching Hospital in Peshawar. “We are seeing a lot of children suffering from phobic anxiety disorders. They are in a constant state of fear – of Taliban attacks and from seeing dead bodies hanging in trees.” The long-term effects could be devastating, he warns.
One particular case highlights the danger young people exposed to constant violence face. Abdullah, a 17-year-old student from the Swat valley, used to be a normal, outgoing teenager, says his father. But in early 2008, things began to change. After months of violence and uncertainty in Swat, once considered Pakistan’s tourist mecca, Abdullah began to show signs of psychological trauma.
“We didn’t realize what was happening at the time,” says his father, requesting anonymity because the family is now in hiding in Peshawar, fearful of Taliban reprisals. “He became withdrawn and angry. He stopped listening to his mother and would even yell at her, something he never did before.” When the Pakistani army began its major offensive in Swat in the spring of 2009, Abdullah disappeared, and friends told the family he had joined the Taliban.
“We were in shock,” says his father. “My son had never held a gun in his life. He was peaceful and fun-loving, but all this killing … it changed him.” Fortunately for his family, when the fighting peaked, Abdullah escaped the Taliban and returned to his family. They then moved to Peshawar, where they’ve spent the last nine months rehabilitating their son.
“This is a common story,” says Ali, who has authored two reports on the effects of the war on the psychological health of Pakistanis. “I can tell you hundreds more – like the one about the 12-year-old child who was confronted by the Taliban and told to take a bomb to his school. They said they would kill his family if he didn’t listen to them. Can you imagine? Can a child forget such a thing?”
Yet as violence escalates in Pakistan, there has not been any effort to confront the psychological effects of it. According to Ali, there are fewer than 30 qualified psychiatrists in the NWFP and a mere 250 psychiatric beds available for a population of more than 25 million. “But that’s just the NWFP,” he adds. “We’re also dealing with patients coming over from the border in Afghanistan. There are no facilities there for them, so they come here to Peshawar.”
Consequently, the city’s poorly funded psychiatric wards are stretched to the breaking point. Patients who require long-term care are being prescribed drugs and sent on their way, only to turn up later in worse condition. Dr. Sultan, at the Khyber Teaching Hospital, blames both the Pakistani government and the international community for failing to recognize the central role psychological health plays in confronting violent extremism. The U.S. consulate in Peshawar has promised millions to beautify the city, but Sultan scoffs at that approach. “We need programs, not parks,” he says derisively.
What’s missing, he adds, is long-term thinking. He suggests that the United States is only interested in stabilizing the country as quickly as possible, while the Pakistani government is just trying to survive. Neither government, let alone the Taliban itself, seems to care that a society’s psychological ill-health can fuel the cycle of violence.
“This is the hidden enemy,” says Ali. “And unless we confront it, Pakistan is destined to become another Afghanistan.”

http://www.aolnews.com/article/in-peshawar-violence-leaves-deep-psychological-scars/19309057

Afghan sense of History and Pride

The following is an article that appeared in The News Pakistan and was written by Rahimullah Yusufzai.

The Afghans possess a strong sense of history. They are justifiably proud of their heroes, who are referred to as ‘qahraman’ in native languages Pashto and Dari (Afghan Persian). Most parents, even if uneducated, make it a point to name their offspring after some of those great personalities from the past.
It was, therefore, not surprising that President Hamid Karzai named his son as Mirwais. Those familiar with Afghanistan’s history should know that Mirwais, a Pakhtun warrior from Kandahar, was the founder of the original Afghan state. Subsequently in 1747, Ahmad Shah Abdali founded the modern state of Afghanistan, which was built on the edifice created by Mirwais. No wonder then that Mirwais is revered by the Afghan people, and it shows when they commonly refer to him as Mirwais Neeka, a Pashto term used for a respected fatherly figure. His mausoleum near the city of Kandahar is often visited by grateful Afghans to offer prayers and refresh memories of their glorious past.

Mirwais is a common Afghan name. Though Mirwais Neeka was a Pashtun, the name is not confined to Pashtuns and one frequently finds Tajiks, Uzbeks, Turkmen, etc named Mirwais in every part of Afghanistan. Such is the Afghan pride in this genuine hero who took the first strong steps to establish the state of Afghanistan.
The Afghans are also proud of Mahmood Ghaznavi and Shahahuddin Ghori, the Afghan conquerors of India. Many Afghans weren’t amused when the government of Pakistan named some of its missile systems after Ghaznavi and Ghori because they consider them as their heroes and are possessive of everything Afghan. Former Afghan information minister Makhdoom Raheen, now ambassador to India, had used a different argument to oppose Pakistan’s naming of its nuclear-capable missiles after Afghan heroes. In his view, Pakistan was being jingoistic by naming its destructive new weapons after the much-adored Afghan heroes. It wasn’t a very convincing argument because Ghaznawi, Ghori and Abdali were all warriors and naming weapons after them wasn’t something unique. The reason for his opposition to the Pakistani move was none other than the Afghans’ possessiveness for Afghan heroes. Many of them don’t want to share those heroes from the past with other nations.
The Afghan ‘qahramans,’ or heroes, aren’t always male. The name of Malalai as a popular Afghan heroine immediately comes to mind. She was the brave girl who took part in the battle of Mewand, fought near Kandahar, in which the Afghans under the leadership of Wazir Akbar Khan defeated the formidable British army. She nursed the injured and gave water to thirsty Afghan fighters. She did all this in the thick of the battle and fought off enemy soldiers. Malalai of Mewand as she is often referred to became a household name in Afghanistan. Every Afghan village and street has girls named Malalai. Being named Malalai instantly confers pride on girls and prompts every acquaintance of theirs to know more about Malalai and the battle of Mewand. History is thus told and retold and memory of that memorable Afghan victory over the British troops is kept alive. Zarghoona is another Afghan heroine and there are more recent ones as well.
During a recent visit to Kabul, President Karzai spoke to me about attempts by ‘inimical” forces to erase Afghan history. He didn’t name those forces but nothing was left to imagination that he meant Pakistan when he alleged that the Taliban during their rule omitted teaching of Afghan history and heroes from the school syllabus in Afghanistan. In support of the argument that the Taliban deliberately removed portions of Afghan history from the curriculum, he recalled asking questions about past Afghan heroes from two young men with vastly different backgrounds. One was his cousin Izzatullah, an expert in computers but not much familiar with Afghan history. The other was the nearly illiterate Abdul Wahid, who lost 17 members of his family in Nato bombing of a village in Panjwai district in Kandahar during a big anti-Taliban offensive last year.
According to Mr Karzai, there were gaps in the knowledge of the two young men about Afghan heroes and history. He said Abdul Wahid, who was invited by him to come to Kabul to offer him assistance and share his pain after having lost almost all his family in the aerial strikes, knew about Mirwais Neeka and Ahmad Shah Abdali because their names were familiar and their graves were in Kandahar. But he was unaware of past Afghan heroes such as Ghaznavi, Ghori and Wazir Akbar Khan because he lacked formal schooling. More disturbing for President Karzai was the inadequate knowledge of his cousin Izzatullah about Afghan history and heroes. The reason for this as he saw it was the Taliban policy to omit texts of the glorious Afghan history from the syllabus when Izzatullah and other youngsters were growing up and studying at school. Mr Karzai felt this was unpardonable and the Taliban must answer as to how such a thing happened.
When pointed out by this writer, President Karzai conceded that children of Afghan refugees were taught Afghan history in schools run by the Pakistan government with help from foreign donors in camps for refugees in the NWFP and Balochistan. If Pakistan wanted the Afghan kids not to learn Afghan history it could have changed their school curriculum in the refugees’ camps. Still Mr Karzai insisted that the Taliban policy not to allow full teaching of Afghan history in Kandahar and other provinces under their control was something deliberate and dictated from outside. There is no way one could remove Mr Karzai’s misgivings about Pakistan at a time when he believes Islamabad is once again backing the Taliban and undermining his beleaguered government’s efforts to extend its writ to southern and eastern Afghan provinces hit by Taliban-led insurgency. But if one looks at the issue differently, his concern about the preservation of Afghan history and heroes in the minds of the coming generation of Afghans explains the heightened sense of the Afghan pride in their past. And that is the reason that one comes across so many Afghans named Mirwais, Babrak, Zalmay, Malalai and Zarghoona.

To read more Afghan/Pashtun names and their meanings please visit: http://www.khyber.org/culture/names/names.shtml

The Jezail, Afghanistan’s Homemade Sniper Rifle

The Jezail was a reverse engineered musket or rifle made from western firearms by Afghans after the invasion of Britain. The stocks, barrels, and other simple components were often hand made and sometimes beautifully decorated.Typically a musket, the jezail often had parts stolen from the Brown Bess muskets of the British Army. During the Anglo-Afghan Wars the jezail was the primary ranged weapon of Afghan warriors and was used with great effect against British troops. The British Brown Bess smooth bore muskets were effective at only 150 yards and accurate at 50 yards while some rifled Afghan jezails were effective up to 500 yards. Because of their advantage in range, Afghan rebels typically used the jezail from the tops of cliffs along valleys and defiles during ambushes. This tactic repeatedly devastated the British during their doomed retreat from Kabul to Jalalabad. British commanders were understandably terrified of Jezail armed Afghan snipers.

The added length of the jezail also made reloading easier from horseback, as the butt stock would rest upon the ground while the muzzle would be at eye level. The jezail was fired using a horn or metal bi-pod, and it has been speculated that the highly curved stock was tucked under the arm and cradled tightly against the body, as opposed to being held to the shoulder like a standard musket or rifle. The argument against this method of firing is that the flash pan would be dangerously close to the face and the weapon would be harder to aim. It is more likely that the rifle was only tucked under the arm of the rider whilst riding horse or camel. Many Jezails were ornately engraved to mirror the beauty and lethality tribal warriors felt they possessed themselves.

The Jezail was also mentioned in Rudyard Kipling's poetry describing British casualties in colonial wars:

A scrimmage in a Border Station
A canter down some dark defile
Two thousand pounds of education
Drops to a ten-rupee jezail.