A Thousand Splendid Suns

disagreement as to who.
With horror, Laila saw that Tariq had thrown himself into the scuffle.
She also saw that some of the peacemakers were now throwing punches
of their own. She thought she spotted a second knife.
Later that evening, Laila thought of how the melee had toppled over,
with men falling on top of one another, amid yelps and cries and shouts
and flying punches, and, in the middle of it, a grimacing Tariq, his hair
disheveled, his leg come undone, trying to crawl out.
* * *
It was dizzying how quickly everything unraveled.
The leadership council was formed prematurely. It elected Rabbani
president. The other factions cried nepotism. Massoud called for peace
and patience.
Hekmatyar, who had been excluded, was incensed. The Hazaras, with
their long history of being oppressed and neglected, seethed.
Insults were hurled. Fingers pointed. Accusations flew. Meetings were
angrily called off and doors slammed. The city held its breath. In the
mountains, loaded magazines snapped into Kalashnikovs.
The Mujahideen, armed to the teeth but now lacking a common enemy,
had found the enemy in each other.
Kabul's day of reckoning had come at last.