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India.com
11-05-2025
- Politics
- India.com
Without America, Pakistan Couldn't Have Faced India, Says Ex-Envoy
New Delhi: 'Pakistan could never have challenged India over the last 75 years without America's help,' says Husain Haqqani, former Pakistan ambassador to the United States, while talking about his new book 'Magnificent Delusions: Pakistan, the United States, and an Epic History of Misunderstanding'. Haqqani, who represented Pakistan in the United States from 2008 to 2011, pulls no punches in his behind-the-scenes account of the complex and often troubled relationship between the two countries. He argues that the United States provided Pakistan with the military and financial support necessary for Islamabad to hold its own against India, which is a far larger and more powerful neighbour. Without American backing, according to Haqqani, Pakistan's geopolitical ambitions would have been far more limited. For much of the last seven decades, he explains, the United States misunderstood Pakistan's true motivations. The U.S. saw Pakistan as a key strategic ally during the Cold War, pumping billions of dollars in military aid into a country that, in Haqqani's view, was never truly aligned with the US anti-Soviet goals. Instead, Pakistan's military leadership, driven by its long-standing rivalry with India, used American assistance to bolster its own regional ambitions, especially to maintain a balance of power with India. 'The U.S. was under the delusion that if it provided enough arms and aid, Pakistan would cease seeing India as a threat. But the reality was Pakistan's primary aim was to use that aid to challenge India, and the U.S. was complicit in that delusion,' says Haqqani. His book traces these historic missteps, revealing how both countries, trapped in their own narratives, misunderstood one another. Haqqani provides a deep dive into key moments in U.S.-Pakistan history, including the aftermath of the 2011 raid that killed Osama bin Laden. Conducted by U.S. Navy SEALs in Pakistan's Abbottabad, the raid exposed an ugly truth – Bin Laden had been living in Pakistan for years just miles from the capital. The discovery ignited a wave of distrust between Washington and Islamabad, one that Haqqani claims had been brewing for decades. But Haqqani does not just critique Pakistan's leadership for failing to account for Bin Laden's presence. He also takes aim at U.S. policymakers for their naive belief that military assistance would somehow reshape Pakistan's behavior or curb its nuclear ambitions. The consistent American failure to understand Pakistan's internal dynamics, Haqqani argues, has only perpetuated a dysfunctional alliance, one that was never built on mutual understanding or shared strategic goals. 'Both countries were trapped in their own delusions,' says Haqqani writes, adding, 'The U.S. believed that providing military aid would change Pakistan's behavior, while Pakistan believed that military aid could help it outpace India. Neither side understood the other's true motivations.' Through Haqqani's eyes, the U.S.-Pakistan relationship is a study in missed opportunities and catastrophic miscalculations. His book reveals that the American military-industrial complex's ongoing support for Pakistan has, in some ways, locked the country into a cycle of military escalation, delaying crucial reforms that could address the root causes of its instability. Beyond historical analysis, Haqqani's narrative is a call to action. He believes that Pakistan must reevaluate its own self-perception and move beyond its reliance on foreign military aid if it is to truly prosper. For Haqqani, the book is not just a critique of U.S. foreign policy; it is also a plea for Pakistan to introspect and reform its internal structures – particularly its educational system and military policies. 'Pakistan must come to terms with its own dysfunctions. Without reforming its economy, educational system and military-first approach, Pakistan will continue to remain in the shadows of its potential,' Haqqani insists. Haqqani does not shy away from addressing the enduring nature of U.S. misperceptions. While acknowledging the complexities of American politics, he highlights the American tendency to approach foreign relations with optimism and idealism, often ignoring the historical and cultural contexts of the countries it engages with. 'America tends to assume that its way is the right way. But understanding another country's history, its struggles and its internal conflicts is essential for building a true partnership,' says Haqqani. His book also explores the contrast between U.S. relationships with India and Pakistan. With its commitment to economic development and strategic nonalignment, India has cultivated a far more robust and multifaceted relationship with the U.S. than Pakistan has ever been able to manage. While Pakistan's reliance on military assistance has defined its relationship with the U.S., India has managed to navigate its path by focusing on economic development, diplomacy and multi-level partnerships with the United States. According to Haqqani, the difference is clear – India played a much better game than Pakistan when it came to its relationship with the United States. It is now reaping the benefits. 'India laid the foundations for a much more industrialised economy. Meanwhile, Pakistan's relationship with the U.S. has remained government-to-government, limited to military aid and diplomatic talks, rather than expanding into other areas like education, business and technology,' notes Haqqani.
Yahoo
07-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Theater, drag shows, and art studios — Kharkiv's cultural scene thrives, even in wartime (Photos)
Kharkiv, located a stone's throw away from Russia's border, continues to pulsate with a resilient spirit despite the invasion. Each cultural event that takes place in this eastern Ukrainian city is more than just artistic expression — it is a poignant reminder of what Ukraine stands to lose in the war. Documentary photographer Amadeusz Swierk traveled to Kharkiv to capture the city's cultural scene for his photo series 'Art in the time of war.' While the war has forced a reimagining of how cultural events take place in Kharkiv, it has not prevented them from happening entirely. Kharkiv locals and visitors to the city alike still flock to theater performances and musical concerts, although they're sometimes staged in clandestine venues for safety. Artists who remained in the city continue to create in their studios, and a LGBTQ+ friendly club, where drag performances illuminate the night, continues to host performances. It is a city where cultural expression and freedom of speech endure, making the continued existence of Kharkiv's cultural scene a defiant stand against Russian aggression. Each cultural event, each output of artistic expression, serves as a bold reaffirmation of Kharkiv residents' unyielding desire to live in a free Kharkiv that is an integral part of a democratic Ukraine. Amid this cultural resilience, however, Kharkiv also faces the harsh reality of frequent Russian bombardment. The city, which Russian forces attempted to capture at the start of the full-scale war, continues to fight to avoid the fate of occupation suffered by other parts of Ukraine. Attacks occur on a weekly, sometimes daily basis, plunging Kharkiv into darkness, destroying homes that took a lifetime to build, and taking away precious lives. This tension between Russian aggression and cultural life in Kharkiv dates back to even before the start of the ongoing full-scale war. In the early 20th century, Kharkiv was temporarily the capital of Soviet Ukraine, and all young artists looking to make something of themselves felt like they had to be there. However, during the Stalinist purges of the 1930s, a number of artists residing in Kharkiv were arrested, interrogated, tortured, and even executed for perceived anti-Soviet agitation. Many of them envisioned Ukrainian culture in the greater sphere of European culture, which was considered a crime in the eyes of Soviet authorities. Ukraine's persecuted cultural figures from this period later came to be known collectively as the Executed Renaissance. Kharkiv's contemporary cultural scene carries a deep understanding of the city's delicate equilibrium, remaining aware of its turbulent past, its resilient present, and the future all Ukrainians are fighting to protect. The "Berezil" Kharkiv drama theater stages 'Shevchenko 2.0,' a play critical of Russian heritage in Ukrainian history, in Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 7, 2024. The event took place despite the city government's ban on large public gatherings in state-owned buildings above ground, with the trusted audience gathering in secret, informed by word of mouth. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) Actor Dmytro Petrov, 45, photographed in Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 10, 2024. Since gathering restrictions limited the Berezil theater's performances, he has lived in a state of artistic and existential crisis. He has occasionally visited the front lines and performed for a handful of troops in the trenches. In July 2024, he began preparing to join the Ukrainian Armed Forces, finding purpose in his life once again — not as an artist, but as a soldier. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) A conversation table representing Kharkiv as part of an exhibition in the Literature Museum, in Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 3, 2024. The event challenges the stereotype of Kharkiv as a city of steel and concrete. The string-bound figurines of people, buildings, and greenery symbolize the delicate relationships of the objects they represent. Visitors, who may choose to hide behind symbolic masks, are encouraged to discuss troubling topics of war, death, and loss in a safe but thoughtful setting. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) Konstantyn Zorkin, 39, an artist of many disciplines and a teacher, in his underground workshop in Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 5, 2024. In the past he worked with many other artists in his studio, but most left the city after the invasion. Now, Konstantyn works here alone, tirelessly painting and sculpting, building a varied collection of wartime works. The purpose of art — binding local context and eternal themes — holds special significance for him during the war. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) Guests hang outside the Switch Bar just before curfew in Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 6, 2024. After the closure of competing venues, Switch Bar remains the only place in Kharkiv hosting LGBTQ-themed shows and performances for the community. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) Drag queens Evelina Smile, 32 (L) and Katy Loboda, 24 (R), getting ready for a performance at the Switch Bar in Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 7, 2024. Evelina Smile, a cook, English language teacher, and experienced drag performer, views the wartime shows as a positive but detached distraction from the grim reality. Evelina hopes that, after the war, the audience will be able to enjoy the shows more fully, appreciating the bright and liberated messages in all their unconventional glory. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) Drag queens Kira Wazovski, 35, Evelina Smile, 32, Monika, 27, and Katy Loboda, 24 performing on the Switch Bar stage in Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 7, 2024. Katy Loboda, the youngest of the drag artists at Switch Bar, has been an army cook for four years and received a bullet wound at the beginning of the full-scale invasion while defending the city. While the shows don't provide much money, they offer a desperately needed distraction, especially now when furloughs are scarce. Katy cannot imagine well-being without an inclusive place to express oneself without ridicule. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent Hamlet Zinkivskyi (37), paints 'loves me… loves me not…' on a grenade in his home workshop in Kharkiv, Ukraine on July 10, 2024. Known as the "Ukrainian Banksy," Hamlet's art adorns many streets in Kharkiv and beyond, and he is a renowned figure in the international street art community. He often repurposes war trophies and army equipment into art pieces, selling them for substantial sums. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) Muravskyi Shlyakh, a group of Kharkiv folklorists, perpetuates folk songs and stories of Sloboda, Kharkiv's ethnographic region, in Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 11, 2024. Since the beginning of the invasion, during the sieges, they sang in city parks and crowded subway stations used as shelters. In the spring of 2022, the group launched a two-year project called "Folklore and War," traveling to front-line villages to preserve old Ukrainian songs and cultural legacy shared by the elderly citizens. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) Serhiy Petrov, 48, a world-renowned artist and founder of Bob Basset studio, which creates masks, bags, bracelets, and other accessories in the techno-romanticism genre, in Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 5, 2024. Many of Bob Basset's works are in private collections worldwide, appear in music videos by famous artists like Slipknot and Ghost, and are appreciated by the likes of director David Lynch and writer William Gibson. Feeling closely tied to Kharkiv and supporting the army efforts by auctioning many of his works, Serhiy decided to stay in the city alone in a house with a window broken by a rocket. He couldn't bring himself to fix it, seeing it as a memento. His wife and child evacuated and currently live in the West. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) Artem Bubeltsev, 22, a skater and roof jumper from Kharkiv, performs a jump over an anti-tank hedgehog left in the center of the city, in Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 9, 2024. On that day, Artem successfully completed this complicated trick for the first time, becoming a forerunner in the entire crew. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) Oksana Dmitrieva, 47, main director of Kharkiv's puppet theater, among the puppets displayed in the theater's museum exhibition in Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 7, 2024. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) In addition to the ban on performances on the main stage, the Kharkiv puppet theater faces severe underfunding. Due to financial struggles, Oksana Dmitrieva has been unable to pay artist and crew salaries since April and was forced to send the staff on leave. The future of the theater, like many other venues, remains uncertain. Photo taken in Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 7, 2024. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) 'Keeping the balance,' a street art piece by Hamlet Zinkivskyi in Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 7, 2024. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) Ilya Sayenko, 35, a rock musician and entrepreneur, recently wounded in a car crash during a volunteer trip to the front lines in Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 9, 2024. Ilya is the founder and owner of the 'LF' club in Kharkiv, the only venue open 24/7 since the beginning of the full-scale invasion, hosting civilians as well as Ukrainian and international soldiers on furlough. Over the past two years, Ilya has delivered about 20,000 burgers to the front lines, evacuated hundreds of people from war-ridden areas, and organized concerts in the besieged city to raise money for the army. He plans to continue his various voluntary endeavors after a moment of respite. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) Lead Singer Tamara Harmash (60), accompanied by the orchestra conducted by Dmytro Morozov (47), on the stage of the Kharkiv State Academic Opera and Ballet Theatre. The massive basement of the monumental theater building has been repurposed into a literal and metaphorical underground concert hall. Despite the peculiar location, the performances are typically packed with people. Dina Chmuzh, 26, brushes a poem on boarded windows, a frequent sight on the streets of Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 13, 2024. For Dina, who left the city during the initial invasion but returned, making art is a dialogue with the city, with recurring themes of loss, resilience, feminism, and historical memory. The boarded windows, her canvas of choice, draw passersby's attention and mask the brutality of destruction. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) Oksana Rubanyak, 21, poetess and commander of the Reconnaissance unit of the 153rd Separate Mechanized Brigade, poses for a photo in a destroyed school in Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 14, 2024. Coming from the Carpathian Mountains, she started as a machine gunner but rose to the position of commander before turning 22. Poetry accompanied her during the full-scale invasion, becoming a means to forge her dark experiences into a warning message for the future. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) Apart from skateboarding, Artem Bubeltsev is also a parkour artist. Artem survived the early invasion with his grandma in Saltivka, the urban area most impacted by shelling. They spent a month sheltering on and off in a crowded subway station. His only escape was skateboarding: 'One kickflip and I felt alive again.' His dream is to gather enough money to leave Ukraine with his grandma and pursue his career somewhere safe. When he turns 25, he will be enlisted in the army, but he can't imagine himself hurting any living being. Photo taken in Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 11, 2024. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) The MUR music group performs the musical '[You]Romantica,' based on the texts of the Executed Renaissance, a generation of Ukrainian poets, writers, and artists from the 1920s and early 1930s persecuted and purged by the Stalinist regime, in Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 3, 2024. MUR is a recent art phenomenon in Ukraine. Many Ukrainian youth discovered the Executed Renaissance through MUR's music and social media. The group was proud to perform in the city of origin of the stories that inspired their musical. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) A house party of staff and friends of the Switch Bar in Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 7, 2024. Kharkiv was often called a city of kitchen parties, with many people moving their get-togethers from public places into private accommodations after nightfall. Since the beginning of the full-scale invasion, the saying has become even more meaningful due to the curfew. Partying after 11 p.m. is tantamount to staying overnight, with no working taxis, planned blackouts, and police patrols. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) A couple near the bar Pokh, one of the few bars in Kharkiv, Ukraine, that stays open right until the curfew at 11 p.m., on July 4, 2024. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) The NAFTA theater performs the 'Rainbow on Saltivka' play in the 'Some People' concert venue, newly opened despite the official gathering ban, in Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 11, 2024. The NAFTA theater gained national prominence after the full-scale invasion with their surrealist tragicomedy about life, war, and the largest residential area in Kharkiv — Saltivka. This neighborhood, home to around 400,000 Kharkiv residents, has suffered greatly during the full-scale Russian invasion. "Rainbow on Saltivka" encourages a rethinking of stereotypes and calls for consideration of the values of the district, often seen by many as dangerous and destroyed. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) The audience leaving the NAFTA theater performance in Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 11, 2024. For the main actor and founder of the theater, Artem Vusyk, the play is "a reason to remember childhood." He lived in Saltivka for 17 years. Since his childhood, he associated Saltivka with rainbows, often seen in the area. Artem wants his audience to view the district differently — not as a gray desert of derelict and war-torn apartment blocks, but with a renewed perspective. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) Oleksandr Kobzev, 31, a tattoo artist, in his home studio in Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 7, 2024, doing his last civilian tattoo before joining a special unit of the Armed Forces of Ukraine. He plans to bring his equipment to continue tatooing in the army, with his art serving as a source of support during his service. A talented tactical medicine instructor with experience in medevac teams, he's inspired to take on a more responsible position as a senior medic for an army brigade. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) Kharkiv youth hold a concert on the main street of the city, minutes before the 11 p.m. curfew, in Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 12, 2024. Such events are a frequent occurrence near the 'Drunken Cherry' bar, which closes at 10 p.m., with guests staying late outside. Partygoers often sing popular old songs in Russian but always end by shouting 'Glory to Ukraine' and 'Glory to the heroes.' This dichotomy is natural for Kharkiv, where both Russian songs and nationalistic cries are heard with equal sincerity. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) Oleksandr Kud, 31, musician, poet, and founder of the LitSlam poetry group in Kharkiv, Ukraine, on July 12, 2024. A drone operator in the Ukrainian Armed Forces, he is applauded by the audience during an event dedicated to his writings. Right before the applause ends, he leaves the concert room, feeling overwhelmed by the distance between his artistic and soldier personas. Devastated by the grim reality of the front line, Oleksandr desperately attempts to maintain his identity as a man of art within the army. The guitar and pen are key to keeping his mental balance. His poetry is now filled with war metaphors, but he still surprises himself by occasionally writing pieces about love and nature. (Amadeusz Swierk / The Kyiv Independent) Read also: When house becomes home (PHOTOS) We've been working hard to bring you independent, locally-sourced news from Ukraine. Consider supporting the Kyiv Independent.

The Age
29-04-2025
- The Age
Port guide: Gdansk, Poland
Eastern Europe's great port city takes you from medieval trading times to the anti-Soviet movement, and into a lively 21st-century revival. Who goes there Those with good memories or a liking for recent history might assume Gdansk is a grimy industrial city, but it has one of Europe's liveliest and most attractive old towns. That makes it a regular port call on Baltic cruises which often start in Stockholm, Copenhagen or Amsterdam. Among regular visits are ships from companies such as Azamara, Celebrity, Cunard, MSC, Princess, Oceania, Ponant, Silversea and Viking, as well as several British-based companies. Sail on in Gdansk Bay is enormous and the city sits inland beyond the well-controlled mouth of the Motlawa River. Smaller ships tie up at one of two quays at the harbour entrance, so don't expect great drama from the ship's decks. Larger ships have an even less exciting arrival in the industrial port at Gydnia further around the coast. If you're tucking into your buffet breakfast during the arrival, you won't miss much. Berth rites Obroncow Westerplatte and WOC II quays don't have much by way of facilities. The town centre is a 15-minute drive in fixed-price taxis with fares that are clearly posted. Westerplatte sits beside a fortress and World War II memorial monument, as well as a small marina from which you can take local cruise-tours into town. Gdynia, meanwhile, is a 45-minute drive. It's a pleasant, lively seaside town, but you'll want to trek into Gdansk if you haven't been before. Going ashore Gdansk (or Danzig in German) was an independent Hanseatic League trading port. While it doesn't have individually outstanding sights, only some small museums, the old-town ensemble is mighty fine. Churches, half-timbered merchant houses and historical warehouses fuse German and Scandinavian styles. The streets are lively with cafe terraces, students and buskers. The Maritime Culture Centre addresses Hanseatic history and amber-trading routes.

Sydney Morning Herald
29-04-2025
- Sydney Morning Herald
Port guide: Gdansk, Poland
Eastern Europe's great port city takes you from medieval trading times to the anti-Soviet movement, and into a lively 21st-century revival. Who goes there Those with good memories or a liking for recent history might assume Gdansk is a grimy industrial city, but it has one of Europe's liveliest and most attractive old towns. That makes it a regular port call on Baltic cruises which often start in Stockholm, Copenhagen or Amsterdam. Among regular visits are ships from companies such as Azamara, Celebrity, Cunard, MSC, Princess, Oceania, Ponant, Silversea and Viking, as well as several British-based companies. Sail on in Gdansk Bay is enormous and the city sits inland beyond the well-controlled mouth of the Motlawa River. Smaller ships tie up at one of two quays at the harbour entrance, so don't expect great drama from the ship's decks. Larger ships have an even less exciting arrival in the industrial port at Gydnia further around the coast. If you're tucking into your buffet breakfast during the arrival, you won't miss much. Berth rites Obroncow Westerplatte and WOC II quays don't have much by way of facilities. The town centre is a 15-minute drive in fixed-price taxis with fares that are clearly posted. Westerplatte sits beside a fortress and World War II memorial monument, as well as a small marina from which you can take local cruise-tours into town. Gdynia, meanwhile, is a 45-minute drive. It's a pleasant, lively seaside town, but you'll want to trek into Gdansk if you haven't been before. Going ashore Gdansk (or Danzig in German) was an independent Hanseatic League trading port. While it doesn't have individually outstanding sights, only some small museums, the old-town ensemble is mighty fine. Churches, half-timbered merchant houses and historical warehouses fuse German and Scandinavian styles. The streets are lively with cafe terraces, students and buskers. The Maritime Culture Centre addresses Hanseatic history and amber-trading routes.


Arab News
19-04-2025
- Politics
- Arab News
1995 - Taliban rise to power
KABUL: The emergence of the Taliban in the mid-1990s reshaped the political and social landscape of Afghanistan. What began as a movement of religious students seeking to restore order in a war-torn country quickly morphed into an uncompromising force that dominated the country for five years before being ousted by a US-led invasion in 2001. The origins of the Taliban can be traced to the discontent that followed the Soviet withdrawal in 1989 after a decade of conflict. As warlords and other factions vied for control, Afghanistan descended into lawlessness and violence. The power vacuum left by Russia's departure led to intense infighting among former mujahideen groups, particularly between factions loyal to regional warlords such as Burhanuddin Rabbani and Gulbuddin Hekmatyar. In response to this anarchy, students from madrassas (Islamic religious schools), many of whom had fought in the anti-Soviet jihad, began organizing themselves as the 'Taliban,' the Pashto word for 'students,' under the leadership of Mullah Mohammed Omar, an Islamic scholar. Inspired by a vision of strict Islamic governance, the Taliban emerged as a movement that promised to end the cycle of warlordism and corruption that had gripped Afghanistan. This commitment to law and order helped the Taliban rise to power in less than two years. Arab News reported the Taliban's takeover of Herat, delivering a major blow to President Burhanuddin Rabbani. The movement first gained traction in southern Afghanistan, particularly in the provinces of Paktika, Ghazni and Zabul. Early supporters included traders and civilians who had suffered under the unchecked violence of local warlords. The group undertook their first significant military action in late 1994, when they captured key checkpoints between Helmand and Kandahar, an area plagued by lawlessness. A turning point came in October 1994 when the Taliban seized Spin Boldak, a key border town near Pakistan and close to Kandahar, which would become their power base in the years that followed. This victory provided them with financial resources and a strategic recruitment base, and madrassa students arrived in droves from Pakistan to join the movement. These students from seminaries in Pakistan played a crucial role in the capture of Kandahar on Nov. 15, 1994. The Taliban met with little resistance and their victory established the group as a formidable force, allowing them to expand their influence rapidly. By early 1995, the Taliban had taken the city of Ghazni and the province of Maidan Wardak as they moved ever-closer to Kabul. Their swift and ruthless military strategy allowed them to seize the Afghan capital on Sept. 27, 1996. Once in power, the Taliban declared Afghanistan an Islamic Emirate and implemented a strict interpretation of Shariah. Taliban attack a checkpoint near Kandahar, marking their first military engagement. The group seize Kandahar, establishing a base for expansion. Herat city, Afghanistan's gateway to Iran, falls to the Taliban with little resistance from its governor, Ismail Khan of the Jamiat-e-Islami party. Taliban capture Kabul and declare Afghanistan an Islamic Emirate. Al-Qaeda attacks America. US forces launch Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan. Kandahar falls, marking the end of Taliban rule. US forces withdraw from Afghanistan, clearing the way for Taliban's return to power. Between 1997 and 2000, they extended their rule over 90 percent of Afghanistan. Their governance was marked by extreme restrictions on the rights of women, public executions and the suppression of cultural heritage, culminating in the destruction in 2001 of two massive 6th-century Buddhist statues in central Afghanistan's Bamiyan valley. By then, the Taliban's rigid and ruthless ideology had alienated much of the international community. Although some argue the rise of the Taliban was entirely indigenous, external influences certainly played a part. The Pakistani government of the time, led by Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto, viewed a stable Afghanistan as essential for regional trade. Bhutto publicly denied supporting the Taliban but admitted that ensuring stability in Afghanistan was a priority. 'Whatever the people of Afghanistan decide is the best form of government for them, it will be acceptable to us,' she said. Her interior minister, Maj. Gen. Naseer Ullah Khan Babar, openly admitted that Pakistan supported the Taliban, referring to them as 'my boys.' Amid the religious community, Maulana Sami Ul-Haq, one of Pakistan's leading scholars, claimed to have contributed significantly to the Taliban movement. An analysis of his 2015 book, 'Afghan Taliban: War of Ideology – Struggle for Peace,' reveals that while he denied allegations of providing military support or training, he proudly referred to himself as the 'father of the Taliban.' He claimed that nearly 20,000 Afghan students graduated from his seminary over 50 years. Man from an aid-distribution team uses a stick to control crowd of Afghan women who gather to get relief in Kabul. AFP 'According to an estimate, about 90 percent of the Taliban in the Afghan government are graduates of Darul Uloom (the Islamic seminary he founded in northwestern Pakistan),' he wrote, adding: 'It would not be wrong to say that (Darul Uloom) Haqqania is the nursery of the Taliban.' However, closer analysis of events — which were mostly documented as a first-hand account in the book 'Taliban: A Critical History from Within,' written by Abdul Mutma'in, personal secretary to leader Mullah Omar — suggests that domestic conditions, primarily created by former warlords and Jihadi groups, along with the Taliban's own military strategy and strength were the key factors in their rise to power. The Taliban's first period of rule would be short-lived, however. Following the 9/11 attacks on the US in 2001, Washington issued an ultimatum demanding the extradition of Al-Qaeda leader Osama bin Laden, who had been sheltered by the Taliban since 1996. The group refused, US troops invaded Afghanistan on Oct. 7, 2001, and the American-led coalition, in collaboration with the Northern Alliance, rapidly dismantled the Taliban's military strongholds. By December 2001 Kandahar had fallen and the Taliban leadership, including Mullah Omar, were in hiding. A regime that rose so rapidly from the chaos of post-Soviet Afghanistan collapsed just as swiftly. Time, however, and patience were on the side of the Taliban. After two decades of conflict, the US grew weary of what had become its longest war, and in August 2021 it pulled out of the country, leaving the Taliban free to swiftly reclaim power.