Monday, December 02, 2024

PAKISTAN

THE ROOTS OF KURRAM’S CYCLES OF BLOODSHED

But rather than simply sectarian divides, the reasons for the discord are far more complex.



Zia Ur Rehman Published December 1, 2024 Updated about 11 hours ago



The November 21 ambush on civilian passenger convoys going from Parachinar in Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa’s (KP) Kurram district to Peshawar shocked the country. The death toll from the heavy firing on the vehicles soon climbed to 49. Its repercussion was another round of retaliatory attacks and bloodletting, with the combined total of those who lost their lives to this latest sectarian conflagration reaching over a hundred.

Kurram, with its towering peaks, ancient maple groves and fertile fields, has long presented a serene façade to the outside world. But, beneath this picturesque surface, deep-rooted tensions simmer between the Sunni and Shia tribes. This borderland, nestled against Afghanistan’s frontier, has known little peace — at least for the past several months.

When I arrived in Kurram in early September, the valley seemed deceptively calm — a brief lull following a brutal week-long violence in late July between the two communities that had killed 50 people and injured hundreds of others. Though the region seemed to be breathing easily again, the echoes of recent rocket fire and gunshots haunted the air.

“It’s just a lull. Peace never lasts here,” a trader told me in Parachinar, the Shia-majority town at Kurram’s heart. Like nearly everyone I met, he knew the calm was temporary.

The signs of the conflict’s return were everywhere. On my drive back, I witnessed firsthand how quickly Kurram’s uneasy calm could unravel. WhatsApp messages buzzed across phones, warning Shia residents to avoid the Thal-Parachinar road, the main highway that connects Parachinar with the rest of the country, now blockaded by Sunni tribes near Sadda — a Sunni-majority town — due to fears of potential attacks.


Recent violent sectarian clashes in Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa’s former tribal area have once again left the entire area on edge, with tensions between the district’s Shia and Sunni tribes escalating rapidly. But rather than simply sectarian divides, the reasons for the discord are far more complex

My driver, himself Shia, took an alternate route — the treacherous 14 kilometre “Defence Road”, a rugged mountain pass that Shia tribes had constructed on their communal land years ago to connect Shia-populated villages to Parachinar when Sunni tribes had cut off road access following the violence of 2007. Our journey stretched from 30 minutes to nearly two-and-a-half hours as we navigated potholes and loose rocks, threading a precarious line along the Afghanistan border.

Then, on September 21, Kurram’s deceptive peace shattered. Gunfire and rocket attacks rang out, killing 45 people and injuring dozens more. By October 12, another wave of violence erupted, after a vehicle carrying passengers came under attack, killing 16 people.






With escalating attacks, most of Kurram’s 800,000 residents were cut off from essential supplies for over three weeks, trapped by a blockade that isolated entire communities. Paramilitary convoys attempting to guard passengers were ambushed. Families inside Kurram found themselves trapped, unable to escape — those outside were stranded, with no safe way home.

In early November, thousands of residents marched for peace from Parachinar, demanding the reopening of the Thal-Parachinar road, which had been closed for 22 days. Their 15km procession ended at Sameer village with a temporary victory, when authorities promised to provide government-protected convoys three times a week. However, the latest ambushes on November 21, near Sunni-majority villages, have dashed those hopes, leaving the community in despair.

To outsiders, Kurram’s troubles might appear to stem from age-old grudges or deeply ingrained sectarian divides. In reality, however, the roots are far more complex.


Boshehra, a village in Upper Kurram, where Shia and Sunni communities reside in close proximity, has become a focal point of a bitter land dispute that has escalated since 2023. This decades-long conflict has led to repeated clashes, armed skirmishes and numerous casualties. Despite attempts at resolution through tribal jirgas [traditional councils], the dispute remains unresolved.

WHERE IS KURRAM AND WHO LIVES THERE?

Kurram is one of the seven former tribal districts of Pakistan that border Afghanistan. It has a unique demographic composition, with a significant Shia population. Although Pakistan’s census does not track sectarian affiliation, government reports estimate that the population is roughly 58 percent Sunni (primarily Deobandi) and 42 percent Shia.

The Turi, notable as the only Pakhtun tribe that is almost wholly Shia, is the largest tribal group in Kurram. The Bangash tribe, meanwhile, is divided between Sunni and Shia affiliations. Other tribes in the region, including the Muqbal, Parachamkani, Mangal and Mosazai, are primarily Sunni.

Kurram, designated as a district following the 2018 merger of former tribal areas into the mainstream administrative framework, is divided into three regions: Upper Kurram, Lower Kurram and Central Kurram. Upper Kurram, where Parachinar — the district’s main town — is located, is predominantly inhabited by the Shia-majority Turi tribe, with some Sunni villages nearby. Lower Kurram, centered around Sadda, has a Sunni-majority population, though it also includes a significant Shia population in Alizai. Central Kurram, which was incorporated into the district in more recent years, is overwhelmingly Sunni, except for one small Shia village.

Kurram, often referred to as the “Parrot’s Beak” due to its deep projection into Afghanistan, shares borders with the Afghan provinces of Khost, Paktika, and Nangarhar. The town of Parachinar is located just 100km from Kabul, Afghanistan’s capital, underscoring Kurram’s strategic significance.

LAND DISPUTES

Boshehra, a village in Upper Kurram, where Shia and Sunni communities reside in close proximity, has become a focal point of a bitter land dispute that has escalated since 2023. This decades-long conflict, centred on a 100-kanal [50,586 sq metres] plot of land, has led to repeated clashes, armed skirmishes and numerous casualties. Despite attempts at resolution through tribal jirgas [traditional councils], the dispute remains unresolved.






Sibth Ul Hassan Turi, a researcher studying land disputes in Kurram for his PhD, has documented the increasing sectarian violence in several villages where Shia and Sunni communities live nearby. Turi highlights that “disputes over land, forests, water sources, and mountainous terrain often exacerbate tensions more significantly than religious provocations, such as incidents during religious processions or blasphemy accusations.” District authorities reported that at least eight major violent land disputes are currently ongoing between the two communities in the region.

“Sectarian clashes are particularly intense when land is involved, triggering a vicious cycle of retaliation,” Turi adds. An attack on the Shia minority in a Sunni-majority area would provoke a response in Shia-majority areas, with Sunnis becoming the next target. Tribal elders from both communities are aware of this cycle, understanding that any attack on a member of the opposing sect would lead to reciprocal violence, causing harm to their own community members in return.

Turi also notes that warring tribes on both sides have exploited sectarian divisions to rally unity in their respective land disputes, fostering an environment where they believe victory is unattainable without collective support.

Experts and local elders point to deeper issues underlying the disputes, particularly the complexities of land ownership in the region. Since the Taliban took control of Afghanistan in 2021, the scale and violence of land disputes in Kurram have intensified, fuelled by the influx of advanced American weapons left behind by retreating Afghan forces.

In former tribal areas, land is often communally held, with little or no formal documentation. However, land in Upper Kurram and Lower Kurram was measured and demarcated during British colonial rule. But efforts to resolve disputes have been slow. The Murree Agreement, signed in 2011, highlighted the issue of abandoned properties, because of violence-induced displacement and contested land. However, authorities failed to resolve the core issues.

The KP government’s Boundary Commission, established in August 2023, has worked alongside tribal elders to resolve the land disputes. However, the commission’s findings remain unpublished, and its recommendations have yet to be fully implemented.

To fully comprehend the complexities of Kurram’s conflict, it is crucial to consider the historical context, including the impact of events in Afghanistan and Iran, the rise of the Afghan Taliban and Pakistani militants, and regional conflicts in the Middle East.


A mourner stands beside the dead bodies of victims who were killed in sectarian attacks in Kurram district on November 21: the region is in desperate need of a long-term strategy that addresses the underlying causes of violence and fosters meaningful reconciliation | AFP



THE HISTORICAL BACKGROUND

By 1850, the Turi tribe was paying taxes to the Afghan state through a governor appointed by Kabul to oversee the region. According to the late French scholar Mariam Abou Zahab, during the Second Anglo-Afghan War in 1877, the Turi allowed British Gen Roberts to pass through their territory into Afghanistan. In return, they requested that the British take control of the region’s administration, fearing potential aggression from neighbouring Sunni tribes, particularly the Mangals.

The Treaty of Gandamak in 1879 resulted in Afghanistan renouncing its claim over Kurram, following repeated failed attempts to exert influence there. Zahab writes in her paper, published in Pakistan: A Kaleidoscope of Islam, that the Turis were regarded by the British as alag [distinct or different] from their neighbours due to their Turkish or Mongol origins — likely from Persia — and their Shia sect. With the creation of the Kurram Agency in 1892 and the subsequent establishment of the Durand Line in 1893, the Turi found themselves on the British side of the border.

For almost a century, Sunni and Shia communities in Kurram co-existed harmoniously, with occasional disputes over land, forests, water resources and religious events. However, according to local elders and experts, the dynamics of this co-existence began to shift profoundly in 1979 — a pivotal year in regional and global geopolitics.

In 1979, the Soviet Union sent its forces into Afghanistan to support its communist government against anti-communist Muslim insurgents. Simultaneously, a popular uprising ousted the Pahlavi monarchy in Iran and established a Shia theocratic state. Experts say that these events had profound repercussions for Kurram, whose unique location along the Afghan border and significant Shia population made it particularly vulnerable to the resulting ideological and demographic changes.

According to Dr Noreen Naseer, a political science teacher at the University of Peshawar, “The events in Iran and Afghanistan in 1979 marked a turning point for Kurram, triggering significant demographic and ideological shifts.”

She says that Kurram’s demographic and sectarian balance changed drastically during the 1980s, with the influx of Sunni Afghan refugees and the establishment of anti-Soviet Mujahideen groups supported by Pakistan and the United States. “Afghan Mujahideen brought with them a militant form of Sunni Islam,” she added, “while Kurram’s Shia population was deeply influenced by Iran’s revolutionary ideals after 1979 onwards.”

Niyaz Ahmed Karbalai, a community elder from Parachinar who is now in his 60s, has seen the transformation of the conflict. Many Afghan refugees — all Sunni and arriving from Logar, Paktika and Khost — settled on communal land owned by Kurram’s Shia population and began cultivating their land as hamsaya [peasants]. “At that time, there was no clearly defined border, only a single checkpost at Kharlachi,” Karbalai says.

The arrival of these refugees coincided with the establishment of several anti-Soviet Mujahideen groups, heavily supported by Pakistan and the United States. Among the most prominent was Gulbuddin Hekmatyar’s Hizb-i-Islami. The adjacent Afghan district of Jaji (or Zazai) in Paktia Province became a stronghold for Osama bin Laden and his cadre of Arab volunteer fighters during the 1980s. In 1984, Soviet forces bombed Sunni villages in Kurram, including Teri Mangal, in retaliation for their providing refuge to Mujahideen fighters.

In 1982, sectarian violence erupted in the Sunni-majority town of Sadda, displacing over some 60 Shia families to Parachinar. Although a tribal council agreed in 1990 to facilitate their return, the decision was never implemented, tribal elders said.

Clashes between the Shia population and Afghan Mujahideen fighters began in 1986, when the former barred the latter from crossing their land to enter Afghanistan. The resulting conflict led to hundreds of deaths on both sides and forced further displacement of Shia families from Sadda to Parachinar.

BASTION OF SHIA ACTIVISM

Driving through Kurram, one encounters a striking visual tapestry: images of assassinated cleric Allama Arif Hussain Al-Hussaini displayed prominently on billboards alongside portraits of former Iranian Supreme Leader Ayatollah Khomeini, now-assassinated Lebanese Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah, and assassinated Iranian Gen Qasem Soleimani. These figures symbolise the region’s deep connection to global Shia movements and its pivotal role in Shia activism within Pakistan.

Al-Hussaini, a native of Pewar village near Parachinar, rose to prominence as a transformative figure in Pakistan’s Shia politics in the aftermath of the Iranian Revolution. Trained in the esteemed religious seminaries of Najaf and Qom, he became Ayatollah Khomeini’s clerical representative in Pakistan in 1985, solidifying his position as a key link between Iranian Shia ideology and Pakistan’s Shia community.

Scholar Zahab wrote that, under Al-Hussaini’s leadership, “a kind of ‘Qomisation’ of Pakistan took place.” This included aligning rituals with Iranian practices, politicising majlis gatherings through participation by Iranian diplomats, and disseminating Iranian books and cassettes outside Imambargahs.

Historically, Kurram’s Shia population had limited involvement in broader Shia politics in Pakistan. However, under Al-Hussaini’s leadership, they emerged as active participants, engaging through political platforms such as the Imamia Students Organisation (ISO), across the country.

The turning point came in 1980, when Shia protests erupted in Islamabad, demanding exemption from the government’s mandatory Zakat deductions. Most of those participating were from Kurram. In response, the government allegedly incited Afghan Mujahideen to launch attacks on Al-Hussaini’s hometown. According to local elders, Al-Hussaini organised an armed self-defence movement to protect the community.


Security officials asses the damage at the site of an explosion in Parachinar carried out by the TTP on January 21, 2017: the arrival of the newly formed TTP in early 2008 marked a turning point in the region | AFP



THE RISE AND FALL OF THE TALIBAN IN AFGHANISTAN

Following the Soviet withdrawal, Afghanistan descended into chaos, as Mujahideen groups fought for power. Amid this turmoil, the Taliban emerged in the mid-1990s, capturing most of the country and establishing a government. This ascent reverberated beyond Afghanistan, particularly destabilising Pakistan’s Kurram district, already marked by sectarian tensions.

The Taliban, bolstered by its Haqqani Network faction, and the presence of al-Qaeda, strengthened alliances with Sunni tribes in Upper Kurram, particularly in Boshehra and Mata Sangar, where Sunnis had long been besieged by Shia tribes. This alignment shifted the local balance of power. The sectarian violence peaked in 1996, when tensions ignited into a deadly confrontation, leaving over 200 people dead.

The 2001 US invasion of Afghanistan prompted further upheaval. Fleeing Taliban and al-Qaeda fighters sought refuge in Kurram, but the region’s Shia population largely refused to harbour them. When Pakistan began expelling Afghan refugees from Kurram in 2005, Sunnis feared that the shift could restore Shia dominance. At the same time, Shia groups called for the resettlement of families displaced from Sadda during the 1982 violence, reigniting old grievances.

“When Afghan refugees vacated Turi land, Sunni tribesmen began occupying it,” explains Dr Noreen Naseer. “The Turis are defending their own land, not encroaching on others’ territories.”

For example, a camp for Afghan refugees was established in Margai China in Balishkhel, a Shia-majority area in Lower Kurram, in the 1980s. When it was vacated in 2006, nearby Parachamkani, a Sunni tribe, tried to occupy the land. However, Shia tribes resisted it.

Following the expulsion of Shias from Sadda during the violence of 1982, Shia tribes collectively resolved not to sell their land to Sunni tribes. This decision was part of a broader strategy to safeguard their ownership and prevent Sunnis from asserting claims over their ancestral territory.

THE ARRIVAL OF TTP

Kurram witnessed unprecedented sectarian violence starting in early 2007, a crisis exacerbated by the growing involvement of the Tehreek-i-Taliban Pakistan (TTP). The conflict initially erupted in April 2007, claiming over 200 lives, causing widespread destruction, and leading to the expulsion of Sunnis from Parachinar.

The situation deteriorated further in November 2007, with both communities accusing each other of targeting places of worship, including grenade attacks on mosques and rocket strikes on Shia properties in Parachinar.

Since 2005, a local Taliban faction led by Fazal Saeed, a resident of Uchat Killay village, had been active in the region. However, the arrival of the newly formed TTP in early 2008 marked a turning point. Established in December 2007, the TTP unified several Pakistani Taliban factions under a central command. Hakeemullah Mehsud, a senior TTP commander, was tasked with overseeing operations in Kurram and Orakzai, while Saeed continued as the local commander.

Shia leaders alleged that the TTP aimed to seize control of Parachinar, pointing to their refusal to allow militants to use the region as a base for attacks on US forces in Afghanistan.

“The TTP’s brutalities united the Shia tribesmen, enabling them to mount organised resistance,” says Mukhtar Hussain, a driver from Parachinar. Reflecting on the intense fighting in 2007, he adds, “We had about 200 fighters, rotating them in four-hour shifts. It was relentless. During the first 27 days, I only came down from my hilltop position twice for a bath.”

The TTP’s entry into Lower Kurram, combined with the lack of the writ of state forces and ineffective government mediation, dramatically shifted local power dynamics. The group imposed a social boycott of Shias in mixed areas, while Sunnis who opposed the boycott faced punitive measures from TTP-linked militants.

Khaliq Dad, a Sunni activist from Kurram, describes the atrocities committed by both sides: “Unspeakable acts of violence occurred during this time, including the desecration of corpses and beheadings. These horrors deeply polarised the tribes, making reconciliation nearly impossible.”

ROAD BLOCKADES

The road blockades in Kurram, which began in 2007 and persist as part of an ongoing conflict, have had devastating consequences for the region.

After the TTP’s withdrawal in 2007, driven by a lack of local support, Sunni tribes in Sadda and other majority areas obstructed the primary road connecting Parachinar to the rest of Pakistan. Critical for Parachinar’s residents, this route served as their main link to Peshawar and other major cities.

Initially, Shia residents relied on government-escorted convoys to travel and transport essential goods. However, frequent ambushes on these convoys forced them to take an arduous alternative: travelling through Afghanistan. This detour, via Paktia, Gardez, Kabul and Torkham, transformed a typical five-hour journey into a gruelling 20-hour ordeal. The alternative route was fraught with dangers as well, including attacks and killings by various militant groups, such as the Afghan Taliban, the TTP and Mangal Bagh’s Lashkar-i-Islam, as well as harassment from Afghan and Pakistani border officials.

In response to the blockade, the community constructed the ‘Defence Road’ on communal land, connecting Shia villages near Alizai and other areas in Lower Kurram to Parachinar.

Efforts to resolve the conflict led to peace agreements, such as the Murree Agreement in October 2008 and a landmark peace deal in February 2011. While these initiatives brought relative stability and partially reopened roads, sporadic violence continued, leaving the region in a state of lingering insecurity.

RETURN OF LOCAL FIGHTERS FROM SYRIA

An Urdu-translated book from a Persian booklet, titled Hum Teray Abbas Ya Zainab, eulogises Wajid Ali, a 16-year-old madrassah student from Parachinar, who died in 2017 in Albu Kamal, Syria, while fighting against the Islamic State (IS).

Ali, inspired by a religious edict urging Shia Muslims to defend sacred shrines, such as the revered site of Hazrat Zainab, Prophet Muhammad’s (PBUH) granddaughter, left his education to join the Zainabiyoun Brigade, a group allegedly linked to Shia fighters, supporting Syrian President Bashar al-Assad. Ali’s father said Ali’s mother supported his decision, seeing it as a religious duty.

While the Shia community in Kurram denies participation in the Syrian conflict, local elders and publications acknowledge that some young men fought and died in Syria. Many who returned are hailed as heroes of a religious struggle. However, this participation has fuelled sectarian tensions.

Law enforcement agencies and Sunni tribes have criticised Shia involvement in foreign conflicts, further intensifying the longstanding rivalry in Kurram. In April of this year, Pakistan officially banned the Zainabiyoun Brigade. Meanwhile, Shia elders have accused the Taliban from neighbouring Afghan provinces of aiding Sunni tribes during the clashes, by supplying manpower and arms, exacerbating the already fragile situation in the region.

There were also repercussions. The formation of the Islamic State Khorasan Province (ISKP) — the IS’s local chapter — by disgruntled TTP members from Kurram and neighbouring Orakzai in 2015 has amplified violence against Shias in the region. Five suicide attacks in Parachinar in 2017 alone forced residents to demand a military checkpoint to prevent outsiders from entering the town without a resident guarantee. An anti-Shia militant group claimed responsibility for one attack, saying it was intended to “punish the Shia for supporting Assad’s forces in Syria.”

Attacks spread beyond Kurram. For example, the ISKP claimed responsibility for suicide bombing a Shia mosque in Peshawar in 2022, where Kurram’s Shia population often visits to pray, killing over 60 people. The nearby Park Hotel, frequented by Kurram’s Shias, was also bombed in 2014.

THE PRESENT AND BEYOND

The recent tragic events in Kurram raise a larger, more daunting question: how can Kurram’s entrenched sectarian conflicts — fuelled by historical grievances, land disputes and distrust — ever be resolved? Without a comprehensive, long-term strategy that addresses the underlying causes of violence and fosters meaningful reconciliation, the cycle of bloodshed seems destined to repeat itself.

As Tahmeed Jan, an Islamabad-based researcher on inter-sect harmony, points out, sectarian tensions in Kurram rank among the most severe in Pakistan. Decades of weak governance under tribal laws and the notorious British-era Frontier Crimes Regulation have exacerbated these divisions. Socio-economic disparities further inflame tensions, with Shia-majority areas often better developed than Sunni-majority regions, which struggle with inadequate infrastructure and lower literacy rates.

Land disputes remain a central flashpoint. While recovering abandoned properties destroyed during past conflicts seems plausible on paper, illegal land grabs and the absence of enforceable agreements fuel fear and insecurity. The Murree Agreement explicitly called for warring tribes to vacate occupied lands, but without comprehensive enforcement, these disputes are bound to reignite violence.

However, there are glimmers of hope in Kurram’s political landscape. Journalist Hidayat Pasdar describes the February 2024 elections as a historic turning point. Hameed Hussain, a Shia candidate supported by Pakistan Tehreek-i-Insaf (PTI), secured substantial Sunni backing from Lower Kurram, winning the new National Assembly constituency of Upper and Lower Kurram. Pasdar notes that, while much of this support stemmed from Imran Khan’s popularity, the election highlighted “the potential of political engagement to bridge divides and foster trust.”

Still, new challenges are emerging. Elders in the region have voiced concerns over the rise of emotional youth exploiting social media platforms such as TikTok to provoke rivals and gain popularity. During clashes, young people record and live-stream violent incidents, including rocket launches and gunfire, widely sharing these videos to inflame sectarian tensions. One afternoon, an elder from Parachinar’s central Imambargah was seen advising the youth to stop these emotion-driven actions.

The path to peace in Kurram is long and fraught with many obstacles, but not impossible. A sustainable resolution requires a multi-faceted approach: robust government intervention to curb arms flows, the enforcement of peace agreements like the Murree Agreement, and sustained inter-sectarian dialogue. Addressing socio-economic disparities and fostering community-led reconciliation efforts are equally critical.

Published in Dawn, EOS, December 1st, 2024

The writer is a journalist and researcher, who writes for The New York Times and Nikkei Asia, among other publications. He also assesses democratic and conflict development in Pakistan for various policy institutes. He tweets @zalmayzia

No comments:

Post a Comment