Positions come and go, offices change hands, but history remembers those who chose steadfastness in the darkest of times.
By Fahim Kohdamani, writer and journalist (Canada), especially for Sangar
“Sons of the Homeland! It's time to send the Taliban to Mullah Omar.”
That single sentence was enough to shatter the silence of the mountains of Badakhshan.
Each man picked up his Kalashnikov, adjusted his tactical vest, and quietly descended through the rocky slopes.
The night was dark, but everyone knew the path like the back of their hand.
Maruf Baharaki quietly said to his fellow fighters:
— Qurban, sitting behind a desk is easy. Here, it is the mountains and the rocks that test a man.
Qurban smiled.
— Anyone can find an office. True courage is holding the trench.
A few moments later, the first explosion tore through the night's silence.
Bullets flew from every direction.
Fighters of the Freedom Front, using swift and dispersed attacks, one after another brought Taliban positions under intense fire.
No one knew where they emerged from or where they disappeared.
That was the very essence of guerrilla warfare.
Breathing heavily, Maruf said:
— Brothers, today even these mountains seem to have come alive.
Qurban replied:
— The mountains have always been alive. It is people who sometimes forget that they themselves are alive and breathing.
Later that night, news arrived from the other side of the battlefield: Qari Fasihuddin Fitrat, Chief of Staff of the Taliban army, had personally arrived in the area to command the operation.
Yes, the very same Qari Fasihuddin who had once been an ordinary Taliban field fighter and now occupied one of the highest military positions.
Maruf smiled and said:
— What strange times we live in. Qari Fasihuddin is now the commander of an army, while we are fighting in the mountains for the freedom of our people.
Qurban asked:
— What do you mean, Commander?
Maruf replied:
— There was a time when General Zia led the Ministry of Defense, while the Taliban were fugitives hiding in the mountains. Today, Dr. Zia is in the mountains, and the Taliban occupy those very same offices.
Look how the world turns.
Yet some enjoyed greater privileges than any of us during the Republic. Today, they either remain silent in exile or have bowed their heads before the Taliban.
An old man who had witnessed decades of war quietly said:
— Offices always change their occupants, but the mountains know who their true owners are.
Everyone fell silent.
A few minutes later, gunfire erupted once again.
In a swift and daring assault, fighters of the Freedom Front liberated the center of Zebak District from the Taliban and, for a brief time, established their own administration. At the district headquarters, they ordered girls' schools to reopen through the twelfth grade, instructed female employees to return to their jobs, and, because of the shortage of school buildings, directed that all Taliban madrassas be converted into girls' schools so that girls could continue their education there.
For a short while, the entire valley seemed filled with the fragrance of freedom, and the birds perched in the trees appeared to sing songs of liberty.
Taliban reinforcements poured in from every direction, seeking to encircle and capture the resistance fighters.
The commander ordered a withdrawal to prevent anyone from falling into the enemy's trap.
Yet the fighters had already left the mark of freedom everywhere they had been, and the call for liberty echoed throughout the region.
As they retreated once again into the mountains and valleys, one of the youngest fighters, who had only recently joined the resistance, asked:
— Uncle, who do you think will ultimately prevail?
The old man placed his hand on the young fighter's shoulder and replied:
— My son, there are no true winners in war. Today, one man sits in an office while another stands in a trench. Tomorrow, everything may be reversed. If you read history, you will see that this story has been repeated hundreds of times. Yet the true victors are those who fight for the rights and freedom of their people.
Maruf asked:
— Then what makes us different?
The old man remained silent for a moment.
— A person's actions define who they are, not the position they hold. Some people forget the trenches the moment they take a seat in an office. Others lose their position but never abandon their convictions.
Everyone resumed their journey.
Moonlight slowly rose above the valley, while the footsteps of the fighters blended with the whisper of the night wind.
Maruf quietly murmured:
— What an extraordinary story... Today one man is in an office and another in a trench. Tomorrow, perhaps, they will trade places.
Qurban smiled and replied:
— No, brother... Neither the office nor the trench is what truly matters. What matters is that when a person gains power, they must never forget where they came from.
By morning, as the sun rose above the peaks of Badakhshan, smoke was still drifting from several positions.
The fighters of the Freedom Front, exhausted yet unbroken, disappeared once again into the mountains—those same mountains that for years have watched people move back and forth between offices and trenches.
And the mountains, as always, remained silent, as though they wished to tell everyone:
"Positions come and go. Offices change hands. But history remembers those who chose steadfastness in the darkest hours."
