Let us never let it happen here, in reverse or any other way.

[Guest guest]

Printed in Der Spiegel today:

 

CHRISTIANS IN AFGHANISTAN

 

A Community of Faith and Fear

 

By Matthias Gebauer in Kabul

 

Afghan converts to Christianity lead dangerous lives and must keep

their faith secret to avoid persecution by police, Islamists or even

their own neighbors. Members of this secret society have to

constantly keep looking over their shoulders.

Hashim Kabar is nervous. The 36-year-old is fidgeting with the

plastic chair in his small office, looking repeatedly at his watch.

His mobile phone keeps ringing and every few minutes he stands up and

goes to the door of the small building. " Everything OK? " he asks the

armed guard there, who is crouching next to the heavy steel door that

has a small slit he can look out of. The guard nods and Kabar comes

back. " I don't have a good feeling about this today, " he says,

rubbing his eyes. " Something tells me we're going to have a visit. "

 

It's difficult arranging meetings with people like Kabar. Time and

again he postponed the appointment, then he asked that the location

be changed. Finally the meeting takes place in his office. Brochures

are lying about and a computer hums in the background, but nothing

would indicate the subject of the conversation. There are no

crucifixes on the wall, no Bibles on the shelves. Anything that could

out him as a Christian has been put out of sight, out of fear. He is

afraid that what happened to Abdul Rahman, another convert to

Christianity, might happen to him.

 

The case of Rahman serves as proof to Afghan Christians that they

live in extreme danger, simply because of their beliefs. Despite the

fact that international pressure prevented Rahman from being

sentenced and perhaps executed by Afghanistan's justice system,

Rahman's story illustrates the extreme stress that those who turn

away from Islam experience every day. " We must recognize that freedom

of religion, as promised by the Afghan constitution, does not exist, "

says Kabar, sadly. " But maybe it's good that the international

community is now aware of that. "

 

Persecution under the Taliban

 

Kabar converted to Christianity 20 years ago, when such a thing was

not as taboo as it is today. " There were a lot of churches, both in

Kabul and in the country, " he says. " Back then the two religions

coexisted here almost peacefully. " But that all changed when the

Taliban came to power in the mid-1990s. Taliban Supreme Leader Mullah

Omar ordered his men to raze churches to the ground, to lynch Afghan

Christians and to kill or drive out foreigners who followed Jesus

Christ.

Many of Kabar's friends lost their lives during this period. " They

tortured prisoners until they got them to tell them the names of

other Christians. Then the Taliban would kill them and go in search

of new victims. " Why he himself survived, he doesn't know. He was

taken prisoner twice and interrogated for hours at a time, but his

persecutors could find no proof. " I knew the suras and the prayers

from the Koran by heart. So I pretended to be a good Muslim, " he

said, with something like pride in his voice.

 

But the disappearance of the Taliban has not made much of a

difference for people like Kabar. Converts continue to be hunted

down, thrown into prison or even killed by their neighbors. The West

was largely unaware of the situation, and it was only by coincidence

that Rahman's case captured international attention. Afghanistan's

2004 constitution, which guarantees freedom of religion, is of little

use to Christians. " Many in power in the judicial branch are imams or

clerics who have little interest in the constitution, " says Kabar.

 

Hide and seek

 

Kabar is forced to renounce his core identity every day. There is an

Islamic name on his business card, although privately he carries the

name of one of the apostles. Only his family and his closest friends

know his secret. Sometimes, he says, he has to act as if he is

praying to Allah. " If business associates come to my house and

suddenly want to pray, I have to go along, " he says, adding that he

only hopes his God understands.

 

No one knows how many Afghan converts there really are. Because there

are no churches, there are also no records. Everything is carried out

in secret; only Christians know other Christians. Kabar says he knows

a couple of hundred in Kabul and in many other Afghan cities,

estimating that there are probably in total between 1,000 and 2,000

people of the Christian faith in Afghanistan, against a Muslim

majority of nearly 20 million. Christian Web sites put that number at

10,000, a figure which seems exaggerated.

Even Christian foreigners in Afghanistan feel the oppression brought

down by the larger Islamic society. While Christians in Kabul, who

mostly come from the Philippines, can hold masses in Kabul, they have

to do so in secret. The head of a small foreign congregation, an

ophthalmologist from the United States, declined to talk about the

issue last week. Christian groups are often suspected of being

missionaries; therefore it's better to keep a low profile. His own

church is completely unrecognizable as such, apart from a (relief of

a) fish on the outer wall.

 

The persecution and the constant danger have turned the community of

Afghan converts into a closely knit underground organization.

Ironically, the oppression has strengthened the faith of many.

 

Nothing can happen in the open, and Kabar and his fellow believers

hold their worship services on different days of the week. " It would

be too dangerous to do it on Sunday, because it would be easy for

them to observe us. " Converts are contacted just before a service is

to take place, often by innocent-sounding mobile phone text

messages. " We're having tea at 11 o'clock, " is one that Kabar reads.

 

The locations of services change constantly as well, and they are

always held in private homes, where everything has to be prepared

well in advance. The household staff must be away; neighbors mustn't

notice anything; and everyone has to have the 100 percent trust of

everyone else. It is too dangerous to even have a Bible at most

services, says Kabar, who knows his prayers by heart. Police have

come and searched his house three times already, but failed to find

anything incriminating. " They know I'm a Christian, " he says. " But I

won't give them any reason to put me on trial. "

 

Even though Afghanistan has dismissed its case against Abdul Rahman,

this is a cold comfort for Kabar. He and his friends fear that anger

among Islamists over Rahman's release could spur them to take matters

into their hands and act even more brutally toward converts. " Abdul

Rahman's release is a good thing, " he says. " But the international

community needs to keep its eyes open. "

 

According to Kabar, the worst thing would be if the resolution of the

case leaves the impression that everything is now OK for converts

living in Afghanistan. If that happens, he says, the case would have

done more harm than good. " We are going to stand by our faith, " he

adds on parting. " Any kind of support would help us a lot. "

 

*Due to the danger of persecution, the convert's name has been

changed and his picture is not shown.

---

.. .this is something else. My Chaldean and

Persian friends say that this is not the situation in Iraq nor Iran

although there are sectarian problems, obviously, within the majority

Islamic Faith.

..bob