In
Afghanistan, the arrival of humanitarian organizations in
remote areas is sometimes perceived as an intrusion and met
with suspicion. In this context, the Afghan Red Crescent
Society stresses the principle of neutrality as a vital tool
in bringing humanitarian relief.
After walking one hour carrying
her baby in her arms, Aki finally reaches the Afghan Red
Crescent Society clinic in Danishman, a village in the Chakad
Dera valley in a remote corner of Kabul province. Since the
clinic opened this morning, patients have been flocking here,
the entrance hall gradually filling up with a noisy crowd.
Children run about. A queue of mostly women builds up in
front of the pharmacy, where Karima, the person in charge,
is handing out free medicines.
Mothers sit on the floor surrounded by their children,
waiting their turn in the consulting rooms. Amid the commotion,
a man in a white coat calls out: “Polio
vaccinations over here.”
Aki jumps up and goes over to Salang Shah. The elderly
nurse with a grey beard has been working in the area for
20 years. It is a mere 20 kilometres from the capital, yet
the population seems to lack everything. Many villages have
no electricity, only the main roads are tarmacked and drinking
water is drawn from wells.
Afghanistan remains one of the world’s poorest countries,
with an infant mortality rate of 130 per 1,000 births, according
to the Afghan Ministry of Health. This exceptionally high
rate can be attributed largely to poor hygiene and lack of
health infrastructure.
In this context, the Afghan Red Crescent
(along with the ICRC, the IFRC and other partners) provides
much-needed health care, from vaccinations to consultations,
and first aid in areas of the country where most other humanitarian
organizations cannot go. An essential part of this access
is the National Society’s base
of volunteers who live throughout the country — even
in areas affected by heavy fighting — and their adherence
to principles of neutrality and impartiality.
“We regularly remind staff of our principle of neutrality,” says
Zelmalaï Abdullah, director of the Afghan Red Crescent’s
Polio Programme. “Political
or ethnic affiliations don’t matter to us; we are just
here to treat people.”
One of the Afghan Red Crescent’s
strengths is that it is well rooted in the local population,
he notes. “This
clinic and the land it is built on were donated by the local
community,” he says. “Without their help,
we would not be able to take a single step.”
Salang Shah, the nurse in charge of the district vaccination
programme, visits the villagers frequently. To gain people’s
respect, he seeks the support of local chiefs. “We
go first to see the malek [chief] of the village and heads
of household, regardless of their ethnic origins. Even if
the village has a mixed population, we speak to the leaders.”
The conflict here is complicated by rivalries between the
country’s different
ethnic groups. In Chakad Dera, Pashtuns and Tajiks, who clashed
violently in the 1990s, live side by side. But Salang Shah
has succeeded in reaching all sectors of the population by
taking care to respect local customs. He is accompanied by
a nurse who treats only women. Without her, many female patients
would not be able to benefit from important health services.
Neutrality on the move
Not far from Danishman, a 4x4 vehicle travels up a rutted
track, crosses a river and then climbs to a village of mud
houses. It’s the first stop of the
day for the Afghan Red Crescent emergency mobile unit (EMU). The Kabul-based
team does the rounds of the most isolated and destitute villagers in the province.
Rahum Dal, a nurse, pours the contents of a capsule into the mouth of a little
girl brought along by her mother.
“I am Tajik, but I have no problem because we are doing our work,” he
explains. In this Pashtun village, the inhabitants greet
the team enthusiastically. The malek says he now wants the
Afghan Red Crescent team to stay here permanently.
That the
Afghan Red Crescent can blend into the local landscape is
largely due to the motivation and training of its staff,
as well as its roughly 40,000 volunteers who also respond
to the country’s frequent natural disasters. In April
2010, for example, they were on the scene when an earthquake
struck Samangan province; the next month they were responding
to flash floods that affected 101 districts in 20 provinces.
Still, many people in the country need to see a humanitarian
intervention personally before they understand the National
Society is there solely to help vulnerable people, says Mohazamat,
an 18-year-old student and volunteer. “I am based
in Kabul, but last year I was called up urgently to work
in Ghazni after the earthquake,” she says. “Someone
had crashed his car and was bleeding profusely. So I bandaged
him up. To begin with, people didn’t understand
what we were doing or who we were. But in the end, they thanked
us, because as there was no hospital nearby, without us they
would have had no help.”
These overlapping humanitarian imperatives make for an
extremely complex aid environment, with National Society
staff and volunteers coping with both emergency response
and long-term public health issues against a backdrop of
ongoing conflict.
During an offensive by the international military forces
in Helmand province in 2010, for example, the Kandahar EMU
worked in the agricultural district of Marja, helping those
displaced and affected by the fighting. As well as treating
war-wounded — including women, children and elderly
people — the
team arranged health-education sessions on issues such as
malnutrition and hygiene.
In some combat zones, volunteers
are the only ones able to treat the sick, and they can be
an essential part of longer-term health initiatives such
as polio and measles vaccinations, acknowledges Arshad Quddus,
head of the World Health Organization’s vaccination
programme in Afghanistan.
“The greatest number of polio cases is in the high-risk
areas of Helmand and Kandahar provinces,” he says. “In
the mid-2000s the disease spread owing to the upsurge of
fighting. The violence prevented us from reaching populations
in the south. Fortunately, trained Red Crescent volunteers
from the local communities have been able to carry out vaccination
campaigns.”
In March, the Afghan Red Crescent was officially asked
by the Ministry of Health to carry out polio eradication
campaigns in the south, where government and other international
teams cannot go due to the fighting. Much of the field-based
health work here is done in cooperation with the ICRC, which
helps arrange ceasefires between the warring parties for
safe passage during vaccination or other health campaigns.
A complex humanitarian space
The perception of the Afghan Red Crescent’s neutrality
is critical in a country where many health and redevelopment
efforts are being carried out by agencies and non-governmental
organizations that combatants perceive as being associated
with the agenda of the Afghan government and the international
forces. In many areas of the country, for example, United
Nations’ health initiatives
are severely hampered by the organization’s perceived
lack of neutrality due to its role in authorizing and supporting
the foreign intervention and the construction of the new
Afghan state.
Still, respect for the Afghan Red Crescent Society’s
unique mandate cannot be taken for granted. Every mission
is risky and many areas of the country are still considered
too dangerous for even locally based National Society volunteers
to work freely. Given that the Afghan Red Crescent’s
top leadership is appointed by the Afghan government, acceptance
of its neutrality cannot be assumed to be universal.
Over time, however, the Afghan Red Crescent has won considerable
respect on all sides due to the impartiality of its work
on the ground. A case in point is its commitment to evacuate
the bodies of fallen fighters from the ranks of both Taliban
and government forces — and returning them to their
villages or families for burial. Along with the ICRC, they
also provide prisoners with a means of communicating with
their families: each year, more than 10,000 messages are
conveyed between families and detained relatives.
But in a country embroiled in a constantly evolving
conflict, even hard-won understanding with warring parties
is never entirely on solid ground. When the leaders of opposition
forces are killed in the conflict, communication with those
forces becomes more difficult. As younger leaders take over,
the Afghan Red Crescent must make new connections, build
respect and explain the mandate to the next generation of
fighters.
At the same time, there has been a proliferation
of armed groups, many of which don’t know about the Afghan Red
Crescent’s role and mandate. “A
year ago, in order to get clearance for our activities in
a region, we had to call on one or two people; now we have
to contact 30 or 40,” says Walid
Akbar, who is director of communications at the Afghan Red
Crescent Society.
Dangerous work
Neutral or no, working in the crossfire carries extreme
risks. “It
happens that the intelligence services sometimes arrest and
question our volunteers,” says
Akbar. Volunteers can also be killed just by being in the
wrong place at the wrong time. In 2010, 11 volunteers lost
their lives (most due to fighting).
One of the most recent tragedies was the death in May 2011
of 22-year-old Mohammad Rafiq Azizi, who was killed by a
suicide bomb attack in the western city of Herat while on
his way to the youth club where he taught English to other
Red Crescent volunteers.
This atmosphere of constant danger is one reason Afghan
Red Crescent personnel receive intensive training on the
principle of neutrality, says the organization’s
president, Fatima Gailani (see interview). But it has also
happened that staff and volunteers break with the Fundamental
Principles. “In the last six
years, two of our employees were found guilty of not respecting
our rules and they were expelled,” Gailani says.
This type of neutrality is not only essential when working between opposition
fighters and coalition forces, but also while serving people
in a vast region composed of numerous ethnic groups and tribes to which volunteers
may also belong.
“The most important thing for us is knowing how to
help people,” says
Mohazamat, the young female volunteer who believes the principle
of neutrality is well respected within the volunteer corps. “We make no
distinctions within the Red Crescent.”
Despite the danger and complexity of the work, her enthusiasm
is not dampened. “Neutrality
has a great significance for me,” she says. “It
means helping every person. My greatest wish in Afghanistan
is to help people.”
By Vincent Pulin
Vincent Pulin is a freelance journalist based in Kabul, Afghanistan |
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Salang Shah, a nurse at the Afghan Red Crescent clinic
in Danishman village, speaks with a young mother, Aki, who
wants her child to be vaccinated against polio. One of 37
similar facilities around the country, the clinic is a vital
resource for basic health care in an area of desperate need.
Photo: ©Vincent Pulin
“Neutrality
has a
great significance
for me.
It
means
helping every
person.
My greatest wish in
Afghanistan
is to
help people.”
Mohazamat,
18-year-old
Afghan Red
Crescent
volunteer
|

An Afghan Red Crescent doctor with one of the National Society’s Emergency
Medical Units explains to a cholera patient’s husband how to best care
of his wife.
Photo: ©Ali Hakimi/IFRC
“Neutrality requires
constant vigilance,
and
it is not a fore-
gone conclusion…
in
Afghanistan,
we
apply this principle
every day.
Fatima Gailani,
president of the
Afghan Red
Crescent
Society
|
|