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The Independent
16-07-2025
- Politics
- The Independent
Britain's harsh truth is that we have a history of abandoning those who've risked everything to help us
Britain likes to think of itself as a nation that honours loyalty. It salutes its soldiers, cherishes its veterans, and builds grand narratives around comradeship and duty. Yet, behind that national self-image lies a harsher truth: when it comes to those who have risked everything to help us in our wars abroad, we are alarmingly quick to forget them. The recent revelation that the names and details of tens of thousands of Afghans who worked alongside British forces were leaked and left exposed – thanks to a staggering data breach – has laid bare not only a monumental failure of security but also a deeper, historical pattern of neglect. These interpreters, drivers, fixers and logistical staff were essential to the British war effort in Afghanistan. They were not on the periphery; they were at the centre of operations, guiding soldiers through complex cultural terrain, translating intelligence, calming hostile situations, and often saving lives. Their reward? Having their identities posted online for the Taliban to find. For nearly two years, the British government successfully suppressed the story with a super-injunction, while some of these people lived in fear, unsure whether their names were among those leaked, and with no clear way to find out. Since then, the Ministry of Defence has scrambled to relocate thousands of Afghans under Operation Rubific, at a cost of some £7bn. But thousands remain. Thousands are still at risk. The Independent has been campaigning for the cause of the Afghan helpers for the past two years, during which time we showed that five in six Afghan applicants are rejected from the military scheme established to give sanctuary to those in danger from the Taliban. Two years ago, the paper also revealed the desperate plight of an Afghan colonel, who fought alongside British troops and fled to Britain on a small boat, and yet was disgracefully threatened with deportation to Rwanda. But this horrific leak is not an isolated failure. On the contrary, it echoes a recurrent pattern throughout British military history. The northwest Frontier of the 19th and early 20th centuries is a stark early chapter. Britain's hold over Indian borderlands – today's Pakistan – relied less on troops and more on local militias: the Khyber Rifles, Tochi Scouts, Chitral Scouts, and Pathan Levies. Raised on local knowledge, steeped in tribal loyalty, they patrolled treacherous gorges and confronted armed insurgents. One such unit, the Chitral Scouts, formed in 1903, drew on local mountaineers and remained indispensable to frontier control. Yet as soon as regular British units withdrew – ostensibly for financial reasons during the Second World War – and strategic priorities shifted, it was these indigenous groups who were left to face reprisals, their villages caught between tribal revenge and state indifference. Their sacrifice was recognised in dispatches, their fate forgotten. Their usefulness had expired; so, it seemed, had our obligations. Decades later, the dense jungles of Malaya bore a strikingly similar tale. In the Malayan Emergency from 1948 to 1960, Britain mobilised Iban trackers – skilled bushmen from Borneo – to help root out Communist insurgents. Just seven weeks after the conflict began, 49 Ibans arrived; by late 1948, hundreds were in deployment, and by 1952, more than a thousand had worked through Malaya. They gained a sterling reputation: undeterred, indefatigable, and brave. Some were awarded medals, including the George Cross and the George Medal – yet were officially deemed civilians, so excluded from pensions or long-term recognition. A handful were later absorbed into the Sarawak Rangers in 1953, but most returned to anonymity once the conflict subsided. Their exceptional service merited little more than oral history and fading photographs. Even those allies who served as professional soldiers found themselves on the wrong side of British amnesia. The Gurkhas – those famously fearsome and loyal Nepalese warriors who have fought for Britain since the early 19th century – endured decades of inequality. Paid less than their British counterparts, denied settlement rights, and excluded from pensions until a sustained and high-profile campaign finally forced the government to act in 2009, they had to fight not just on battlefields, but in courtrooms and newspapers for what they were owed. And even then, many of the changes only applied to those who served after 1997, leaving older veterans with scant recompense for their decades of loyal service. The betrayal extends to Iraq and Afghanistan in more recent memory. In Iraq after 2003, British forces relied on hundreds of local interpreters – vital conduits between soldiers and civilians alike. Some became targets of extremist militias themselves. The British resettlement scheme, however, lagged far behind that of the Americans; names leaked from internal emails, and some interpreters were killed before official offers of protection arrived. Afghanistan, in turn, has given us similarly harrowing scenes: drivers and translators who followed British patrols in Helmand Province but found their applications stalled, their emails unacknowledged. Many who expected evacuation were left hoping, waiting, praying. Interpreters have complained of opaque processes, sudden refusals, and long waits in danger zones. Many of the promises made by ministers during the fall of Kabul in August 2021 – four whole years ago – have yet to materialise for the people who pinned their survival on them. But the leak, caused by simple human error and then hidden by a super-injunction, elevates this from failure to farce. In peacetime, such a mistake would result in resignations. In wartime, it is a matter of life and death. What makes this more bitter is the contrast with how Britain treats those who serve in secret. The intelligence services are famously and admirably rigorous in protecting their sources. The names of spies and informants are held in complete confidence, often for decades, even centuries. The Official Secrets Act is not some dusty document; it is a living, breathing code of silence and protection. We will go to extraordinary lengths to protect the identity of someone who passed us information from behind the Iron Curtain. But if that person stood next to our soldiers in Helmand or Basra? They're on their own. The brave man or woman who helps us has no cloak of invisibility. Their name is on a roster; their visa applied for; their presence logged in databases vulnerable to error and neglect. He or she stands visibly beside British troops – and is abandoned visibly, too. There is also a cost beyond the moral. In future conflicts, Britain will need help. We will need local allies, interpreters, trackers, fixers. If those people look at our record and see betrayal and abandonment, they will think twice. And who can blame them? What rational person would risk everything for a power that consistently walks away when the danger turns inward? To rely on an alliance is not charity – it is mission-critical. Betray it, and your mission dies long before the bullets fly. It is time for this country to put its commitments in writing, not just in rhetoric. We need a legally binding contract with those who work alongside us in conflict zones – a promise of resettlement, of sanctuary, of long-term support. Their loyalty should not have to be bought. But it must, at the very least, be honoured. The time is surely right for legislation – a 'helper covenant', perhaps – ensuring asylum, relocation, practical support, recognition. Not token words, but actionable rights. Interpreters, trackers, drivers: titled, registered, resettled. If we fail to respond with urgency, clarity, and structural change, we will have answered the question long before it is asked again. We will have confirmed that the British promise is empty – that we honour valour only in victory, and neglect loyalty after withdrawal. It is time to decide: will we break the cycle, or will we let it continue? The Afghan leak is a scandal, but it is also our mirror. It reflects every forgotten scout, every bypassed interpreter, every ignored Gurkha. We have been here before and we keep choosing the same path. We puff ourselves up with rhetoric and then walk away. Tomorrow's potential allies are watching. In failing to protect those who served us so publicly, we chip away at our own credibility. And that may be our greatest betrayal of all.
Daily Mail
16-07-2025
- Politics
- Daily Mail
Was government cover-up of Afghan evacuation mission completely pointless? Taliban say they have had full list of 25,000 names all along - and been hunting them for three years
The Taliban claims it has had the so-called 'kill list' of Afghans who worked with Britain since 2022 and has spent the last three years tracking them down. The list includes around 25,000 names of interpreters, soldiers and family members who applied for asylum through British evacuation schemes. It was accidentally leaked online in 2022, triggering one of the most expensive and secretive operations in modern British history - but now critics are asking whether it was all pointless. Taliban officials now say they downloaded the list within days of its appearance online and have used it to hunt those named ever since. A senior Taliban source told The Telegraph, 'We got the list from the internet during the very first days when it was leaked.' The official confirmed that many people fled Afghanistan or went into hiding, but said surveillance teams had been hired to watch homes of the individuals and their relatives around the clock. 'A special unit has been launched to find them and make sure they do not work with Britain,' the official said. He also said authorities in the Taliban government had visited relatives of people on the list to 'track them down' and added that they 'must be dealt with'. Another Taliban official revealed to The Telegraph that the search had ramped up in recent months. He said the list was distributed to border agents, who have been instructed to block anyone listed from leaving the country. He called the people on the list 'traitors' and added that the plan was to find 'as many of them as possible'. He also asserted that the leaked list worked in their favour. The British government responded to the leak by launching Operation Rubific, a covert mission to secretly relocate as many people as possible to safety. Nearly 24,000 Afghans have either already been flown to the UK or will be in the coming months, according to newly released government data. The scale of the operation and the danger it posed to those left behind led to an unprecedented super-injunction being imposed in early 2023. It banned all media, Parliament and the public from discussing the leak, the evacuation plans, or even the fact that a super-injunction existed. Ministers argued that any publicity would further endanger lives by confirming to the Taliban that the leak was real. But a High Court judge who lifted the gag this week said the injunction may have made the situation worse. Mr Justice Chamberlain said there was 'a significant chance that it was in fact endangering' some of the Afghans being relocated. He said the effect on those not brought to the UK was 'likely to be adverse overall.' The judge warned that the government may have 'added more value' to the leak by acting so aggressively to conceal it. A government source confirmed that £7 billion of taxpayer money was spent on Operation Rubific, which has been described by defence officials as the largest covert peacetime relocation effort in British history. According to reporting by The Times, much of the operation was coordinated by MI6, the Ministry of Defence and the Cabinet Office, with emergency teams working for more than two years to process applications, issue visas and arrange flights in secret. Despite these efforts, many Afghans remain trapped. A former British Army interpreter fled to Iran two years ago after hearing his name was on the list, according to the report. His family has since been targeted by Taliban fighters who repeatedly raid their homes. The family member told The Telegraph that they had arrested him and even beaten him for a day. He added that being related to someone on the 'kill list' is a 'death sentence' as the Taliban has threatened they would kill a family member if they can't find who they are searching for. Though the UK government has insisted it acted to save lives, critics argue that the Taliban may have already had access to the data and that the secrecy surrounding the operation may have done more harm than good. Justice Chamberlain concluded in court filings that the decision to suppress public knowledge of the breach may have inadvertently endangered the very people the government claimed it was trying to protect. If Taliban officials are to be believed, the cover-up did little to stop the targeting.
Free Malaysia Today
03-06-2025
- General
- Free Malaysia Today
Sign-language interpreter Tan Lee Bee receives royal award
Veteran media personality and sign-language interpreter Tan Lee Bee with her Bintang Ahli Mangku Negara award. (Bernama pic) KUALA LUMPUR : For her dedication as a sign-language interpreter spanning more than four decades, Tan Lee Bee received the Bintang Ahli Mangku Negara (AMN) from Yang di-Pertuan Agong Sultan Ibrahim yesterday. Tan, who often graces the corner of the television screen during news broadcasts, described the award as a 'great recognition' in her 'silent struggle to convey the voices of the voiceless'. 'I feel happy, moved, I feel like crying, too… I feel very grateful,' the veteran media personality told Bernama after the investiture ceremony in conjunction with the king's official birthday celebration at Istana Negara. 'This recognition is not just for me, it's a symbolic tribute to every interpreter who works silently for a fairer inclusivity in Malaysia,' the 64-year-old added. Tan was among 16 individuals who received the AMN at the ceremony, during which Attorney-General Dusuki Mokhtar and armed forces chief Gen Nizam Jaffar were bestowed with the Darjah Panglima Mangku Negara, which carries the title Tan Sri. Tan's journey as an interpreter began out of love for the person closest to her heart: her younger sister, who is deaf. 'I learnt sign language because of her … people always ask me how I learnt sign language, and they're always surprised to know I never took formal training before I began my career,' she told FMT in 2021. She then served as a teacher for the deaf for 17 years, which she initially found challenging. 'I found it very hard to teach the deaf and I would sometimes cry. At times I just could not make my students understand.' Tan is best known for gracing the corner of TV screens during news broadcasts with her dynamic signing and compelling facial expressions. (Tan Lee Bee pic) During those years, she also served as an interpreter with the federal court. Tan went on to become Malaysia's first court sign-language interpreter in 1994. Still, one might be surprised to learn that her contribution to the world of broadcasting began much earlier, when she appeared on television circa 1985 on the show 'Selamat Pagi Malaysia'. Her facial expressions and signing actions became important visuals in news broadcasts as well as in official communication videos, advertisements, and various broadcasting mediums. Apart from RTM, Tan provides her services to companies with employees who have disabilities. She told FMT five years ago that she derived great satisfaction from serving the deaf community. 'Whatever we interpret, it has to be understood,' she said. 'I have to make sure my interpretation is clear and that I do not make any mistakes. 'As an interpreter, when the deaf understand you well enough and are happy about it, they will come to tell you. As long as my hand is able and my mind is still okay, I will go on interpreting … it is my passion.'
