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Warrior’s
World
Pakistan’s Northwest
Frontier is one of the most rugged, inaccessible regions of the world,
where today’s most famous fugitive is believed by some to be in
hiding. Laura Schuurmans traveled to Peshawar to meet the legendary warrior tribe of the area.
 As we leave Islamabad
for Peshawar, capital of the Northwest Frontier Province bordering
Afghanistan, the scenery gradually becomes more mountainous as we
cross the River Indus. We are headed to the tribal homeland of the
Pathans, a warrior tribe that has always been resilient enough to
force foreign invaders out of their territory.
The sun slowly dips behind a range of mountains that appear on the
horizon as we approach Peshawar. These are the vast mountains of the
mighty Hindu Kush that become loftier, rougher and bewildering as you
enter their domain.
All around are simple scenes of village life. Colorfully decorated
trucks stuffed with merchandise are parked in front of a roadside tea
house, where a traditional sweet cup of tea relaxes the drivers after
a long day’s work.
A man wearing a white turban rides home on his donkey as he leaves the
market just before dusk and women are covered as they pass by, with
only their dark, intriguing eyes exposed.
Our party of journalists and scholar, invited by the Islamabad-based
Institute of Regional Studies, continues our journey the next morning
and drive west of the Peshawar Valley to the Khyber Agency, a division
of the Federally Administered Tribal Agencies (FATA). Entry to the
area is prohibited to foreigners unless there is written permission
from the Ministry of Interior. This agency is home to the Afridis, the
most dominant trading tribe of the region with a colorful history.
During the British Raj, an Afridi kidnapped the daughter of the then
British army chief. He kept her with respect, dignity and hospitality,
and later released her back to her parents.
With our escort from the Khyber Agency, we take a dazzling winding
road over the Khyber Pass through the mountains to the Michni border
post, the oldest along the Frontier.
My father used to tell me stories of his trips here; in 1968, he
danced around a campfire with some armed tribesmen on this pass as he
traveled by bus from Kabul to Peshawar. He and a Belgian he met along
the way bought a seat on the bus, but an Englishman was given a place
on the roof, for old enmities apparently die hard.
“There is no room for Englishmen in my bus”, the driver declared.
On this legendary pass, numerous bloody wars were fought over the
centuries.
In the 4th century BC, Alexander the Great’s army marched
through the Khyber Pass. Genghis Khan’s galloping horses crossed over
to Bactria
- now Afghanistan - during the conquest of Western Asia. And as we
approach the 14th century prison built by Tamerlane, it
seems the cries of despair, pain and brutal torture still echo
throughout the mountains, while the warring shadows of the Great
Mughals head east as we pass.
In 1839 the British crossed the Khyber Pass into Afghanistan while
fighting the Pathans in the first Afghan War. After the bloodshed
ended in 1842, a defeated and lonesome doctor silently returned to the
British Raj; he was the only survivor.
The Pathans
The Durand line drawn by the British in 1893 divided the Pathans
between the British Raj and Afghanistan. Those on the side of the
British Raj always respected the king of Afghanistan, who was a Pathan
as well.
There are many different stories about this ancient mountain tribe.
Some suggest they are the 12th Jewish tribe that was
dispersed from Israel. Alexander the Great’s army left abundant traces
behind in the Frontier in the fair-skinned people walking the streets
of Peshawar.
The Pukhtunwali is the Pathan code of life. This ancient code demands
men to be courageous fighters and to be respectful to women and
elders. It also demands that they give shelter to anyone who seeks
protection and that their guests will be defended at any cost. But
when betrayal and vengeance come along the way, revenge will be taken.
In the past, a Pathan father would tell his son: “You must be a great
warrior, be brave, don’t ever give up and never surrender. This is our
land which we’re proud of and which you must defend at any cost. Be
strong, bold and carry your rifle with you at all times”. Little has
changed over the centuries. At present, almost all Pathan men,
regardless their background and education, possess excellent firing
skills.
For guns are the pride of the Pathans. One of their favorite rifles
today is the Russian AK-47, the world’s most sold rifle, and the
Pathans have produced their own distinctive version. Over the
centuries as foreign warlords invaded and attacked the tribes,
gunsmiths used to work from home but now they have become
professionals and have their own production workshops.
The central government has prohibited the manufacturing of any type of
guns without the required registration and permits, but Pathans don’t
accept orders unless they’ve great respect for those who command them.
They remain a fiercely independent tribe who want to remain free from
any foreign ruler.
The central government in Islamabad has always recognized their
semi-autonomy, so federal laws don’t apply in the tribal agencies and
governors act on behalf of the president to interact with the
tribesmen.
The Khyber Rifles Mess, a 19th century colonial house built
by the British, was the residence of the head of the Khyber Agency
after independence and is today a guest house for special visitors to
the Khyber Pass.
The walls are filled with photographs of world leaders. A large
photograph of George and Barbara Bush hangs on the wall, but a
photograph of their son is missing. A stunning photograph of the late
Princess Diana proudly stands on a table, but one of Tony Blair is
conspicuously missing too.
As we arrive, local military gather together as they start performing
a warrior dance originating from North Waziristan, home to the Waziri
hill-tribe, known amongst the bravest warriors of all peoples of the
Frontier.
“Pathans are very courageous,” my father told me the day I left for
Pakistan. “If you want them to like you, you must be braver than
them”.
As my father had continued his trip over the Khyber Pass and reached
Peshawar, he stopped by at a market, sat down, lit a cigarette and
watched a traditional snake performance. The snake charmer suddenly
threw a cobra between his feet. My father sat as though undisturbed,
and continued smoking as the snake crawled between his legs. After a
while, the snake charmer took the cobra back and declared: “You can
watch my show for free”. Others offered him a cup of tea and a free
meal for lunch.
As we continue our journey we stop at Ali Masjid village. A young
crowd gathers and asks: “Where do you come from?” “I’m Dutch,” I tell
them; the wariness and hostility against Anglo-Saxons has remained
among the Pathans since the British Raj and they don’t always welcome
foreigners. But no further questions are asked of me.
The crowd curiously follows as I, wearing a light scarf in respect of
local customs, chat with villagers and capture shots of this place
where time stands still.
As I walk back to the car a young man spontaneously cries out, “But
you, you’re always welcome here, you can come back whenever you want”.
“They respect you as you show respect to them,” says Qamar Uz-Zaman, a
Middle East researcher from the Institute of Regional Studies who
joined us on our trip.
As we drive down through the winding road and reach Peshawar again,
the paramilitary from the Khyber Agency leave us at the gate, the
local elite city police take over and escort us through the city back
to the hotel. Our meeting with the legendary Frontier tribes is over.
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