All quiet on the streets of Kandahar

KANDAHAR – There is a sense of dread in this city these days, with empty streets, nervous shopkeepers and inhabitants as bewildered as they are terrified.

“What is going to happen?” is the first question on everyone’s lips; the biggest decision families face is whether to pack up and leave or try and stay the course. Many have decided on the former option.

Kandahar has been a major focus of the U.S. military since the reported success of Operation Moshtarak in neighboring Helmand in February. But the threatened offensive, now referred to a “process” at the insistence of the Afghan president, has failed to materialize. Instead, the population remains braced for battle while the Pentagon and the White House try and decide how best to proceed.

The Taliban have no such reservations. Just the other day a major blast hit the city center. People barely even register explosions any more; they just go on with their business.

The signs of conflict are everywhere: U.S. military vehicles race through Kandahar at breakneck speed, sowing panic and anger in equal measure. The local guesthouse where reporters stay was half destroyed in a suicide blast a few months ago; our usual rooms no longer exist, so we are squeezed into the wing furthest from the road.

There is constant talk of death; two or three killings are reported each day. Sometimes it is government officials, but it could just as easily be teachers or shopkeepers. According to a researcher from the Afghanistan Analysts Network, the Taliban have published a list of approximately 170 people targeted for assassination. Some claim that you can pay to get off the list, but it is a difficult and time-consuming process.

A driver who worked with two foreign journalists has had to quit; he has received threatening letters and is told that his name will be added to the roster.

“We are all in the hands of Allah,” sighed one Afghan journalist, as he sent his nine-year-old daughter off to school. Most children are home — the danger, say parents, is too great.

Before he abruptly left his command, General Stanley McChrystal promised that Kandahar would not experience a D-Day type of assault. Instead, he insisted, the city would benefit from a “slow, rising tide of security.”

Longtime Kandahar residents are having a hard time feeling the improvement.

“Rising tide indeed,” said one international researcher, who has spent years in the city. “It is now up to my neck.”

Abaceen Nasimi reported from Kandahar. Jean MacKenzie contributed from Boston.