BetweenTheLines

Sameer Arshad Khatlani Follow  on Facebook T he Taliban claim to have retaken 85% of Afghanistan as they threaten to recapture power in Kabul two decades after being ousted from power following the 9/11 attacks. The Afghan government has disputed the Taliban's claims that are in any case unlikely to be verified independently. With the exit of the western forces, the Afghan army is putting up a valiant fight to prevent the Taliban from overrunning Afghanistan again, turning the clock back to the 1990s and reversing the gains such as a degree of women empowerment achieved over the last two decades. The Taliban may well be unable to take power again. But the usual suspects have found a fresh handle in their imminent return to power to stoke Islamophobia by emphasising the Taliban's obsession with their form of “Sharia”.  ALSO READ: Seven-Decade Arab-Israel Schism Is A Historical Aberration Afghanistan is a deeply religious country and can clearly do without the Taliban's brand

Sameer Arshad Khatlani Follow  on Facebook I t was perhaps no coincidence that on September 4, 2020, an imam at Mecca’s Grand Mosque dwelt on Prophet Mohammed’s kindness to a Jewish neighbour. The reference, days before the United Arab Emirates (UAE) and Bahrain signed agreements on September 15, 2020, to normalise ties with Israel, was seen as part of the groundwork for other Arab nations such as Saudi Arabia to follow suit. The thaw in Arab-Israel relations is a culmination of years of behind-the-scenes work that Arab leaders have been hinting at. Saudi Arabia’s Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, in 2018, backed the Israelis’ 'right to have their own land'. Bahrain defended Israeli airstrikes in Syria the same year, saying Israel ' has the right to defend itself .' A year later, Bahraini foreign minister Khalid bin Ahmed Al Khalifa called Israel a part of the region’s heritage . ALSO READ: Hardline-Reformist Binary Ignores Core Of Iranian Political System Bin Salman

Sameer Arshad Khatlani Follow  on Facebook I  am no stranger to lockdowns. They were the norm while I was growing up in Kashmir. I was seven when I experienced the first set of sweeping restrictions put on our movement. The curbs were imposed in January 1990 to stem further protests after scores protesting against overnight house-to-house searches were hemmed in and shot dead on a bridge over the Jhelum. It was the first of the many massacres that year, which fuelled the ongoing insurrection. We were confined to our houses in its aftermath for three weeks. Shoot-at-sight orders were in place and our neighbourhoods were suddenly swarmed by men in khaki from all over India. A cousin had a narrow escape when he was fired upon for stepping out during the lockdown. No one dared to venture out thereafter to even get essentials. We fell back on our winter stocks and were forced to survive for the longest time in recent memory on lentils. ALSO READ: Farooq Abdullah, A Man For All Seasons We th