the_taliban_shuffle_-_kim_barker

CHAPTER 8
MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE
M
any Afghans were not happy with the direction the country was
heading, especially conservatives. And in the middle of this disgust,
Abdul Jabar Sabit, a windmill-slaying Afghan lawyer, saw an
opportunity. As legal adviser for the Interior Ministry, his job
description was somewhat vague, so he decided to declare war on
alcohol and brothels, to stem the tide of foreign excess. He had
launched a one-man anti-vice mission, a pared-down version of the
Taliban’s Vice and Virtue Ministry, that notorious charm oensive
responsible for enforcing the regime’s straitjacket-like morality rules.
And in so doing, Sabit had seized on the mood of many Afghans, who
felt that the Westerners were just too much—too free with their booze,
too loose with their morals, and too influential over young Afghans.
Even though alcohol was illegal, the Afghan government had
permitted a two-tiered society—one for Afghans, and one for
Westerners. Foreigners could buy booze at two major stores that
required passports at the door. Restaurants could serve alcohol to
foreigners but not to Afghans, which meant most restaurants that served
alcohol did not allow Afghans. The contradiction fueled resentment
from everyone. Many Afghans viewed alcohol as more pernicious, more
Western and un-Islamic, than opium or hashish. More liberal Afghans
gured they should be allowed to drink alcohol inside the restaurants,
which were, after all, in their country. Every time Sabit announced
another booze battle, Farouq would shake his head.
“The price of raisins is going to go up,” he would say. Raisin wine
was a concoction made popular during Taliban rule, along with
antiseptic and Coca-Cola.
I had rst met Sabit in the spring of 2005, in the oce of the Interior
Ministry spokesman. He had left Afghanistan during the late 1970s and