A(nother) Blow to Women's Rights in Afghanistan

"It's the Taliban all over again," an Afghan woman said to me as I was loading my luggage in the car to head to Kabul International Airport. "It's just unbelievable."
The disbelief and outrage is over a new law--just signed by President Karzai last week--that legalizes rape in marriage by forbidding women from refusing sex; bans a woman from leaving the home, working, or seeing a doctor without her husband's permission; and grants child custody only to fathers and grandfathers in cases of divorce. Women must also wear makeup if their husbands demand it.

"When a husband dies, women can only inherit movable property--no houses or land," this woman told me as she quickly transferred a damning UNIFEM report onto a USB drive. This would keep me busy on my overnight layover in Istanbul.

It is obvious that in an attempt to win support in the upcoming August elections, President Karzai (who is wildly unpopular) is trying to appease Islamic fundamentalists. What's not so obvious to me as I wave goodbye is where the hell the West was when this bill was drafted a year ago. In situations like this, I want to count on Hillary Clinton to spring from a phone booth, her human rights cape whirling. Isn't this a violation of international law and Afghanistan's own constitution, which mandates equal rights for men women?

I believe women are a bellwether in society--and what happens with them is an indication of where the society is heading. Women may be the first to lose their rights, but they are usually not the last. Therefore, it should come as no solace that this law affects Afghanistan's Shiite community(that's about 15 percent of the population who are allowed under the constitution to have their own family law).

Even as President Karzai simultaneously defends the bill and says it will be reviewed due to global uproar, another family law--this one for the Sunni majority--is in the works.

"This is a disaster for women," is one of the last things I heard as I left Afghanistan. And those words are still ringing in my head.


Other Reading:

Washinton Post Article
New York Times Article
Al Jazeera Report

OTHER HAPPENINGS…











Budding Documentarians…. We’ve been training students to use small HDV video cameras that we will leave behind when we head back to the States. We’ve never done something like this before – but we’re hoping that they’ll provide us with some intimate family and village life material that we would not otherwise be able to capture. There is some trepidation about handing over expensive electronics.
Nadia, a third-grader who took the camera home last night, beamed as she showed us her footage this morning. But then we saw her in many of the shots. Wait a minute! Who’s filming? Her father had taken charge of the camera, she told us. Ultimately, we like the idea that the whole family buying into this project. There are three girls we’ve trained: Khodija (the orphan whose 12-year-old sister is engaged), Nadia (first in her class and one of 12 children thanks to her father’s marriage to two women—both of whom I was able to interview), and Raila (the 18-year-old fifth grader who wants to be a police officer some day).

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Love Marriage… since the majority of marriages here are arranged, it’s rare to hear about two people who fall in love and live happily ever after. When it happens, though, it’s called a “love marriage.” But trying for a “love marriage” when your parents want an arranged marriage is illegal. I learned today about a boy and girl who ran off together the day before her arranged marriage. They were hoping to escape to Tajikistan. But her parents called the cops and the lovebirds were arrested and thrown in jail. It’s common for people to sit behind bars for years for this “crime.” I’m working on setting up an interview with them when we return to Kabul in a few months.

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The vote is in… and the winner is… corruption. You’re supposed to be 18 to register to vote, but we know a 15-year-old who has a voting card. “They’re so easy to get,” his sister told us. “You’re supposed to show your identification card to get one, but a lot of people here don’t have any ID, and they give them to you anyway. They’re desperate for people to vote.” Is she planning to vote? “I don’t know – there aren’t any candidates worth voting for, that’s how a lot of us feel.” And if you’re finding it hard to get a voting card for some reason, don’t worry – you can buy one.

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A new Iranian complex—replete with mosque, madrassa and TV station—is working hard to spread anti-Americanism in Afghanistan. Since the TV station hit the airwaves, the religion-politics Molotov cocktail has been stirring up resentment among locals about the invading infidels.

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It’s official – we moved! And we love our new pad. I have 10 light bulbs in my room!! We’re near American University and the former Russian Cultural Center (now a drug den). The house has some tin sloping on the roof, so we can hear the pitter patter of the rain. We’ve already taken to calling it PPK (Principle Pictures Kabul). Many summers ago I taught a course at American University Paris—and had promised myself I’d look into other AU opportunities around the world. Never did… until now.

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It’s going to be hard saying goodbye to everyone, but I’m thrilled with what we’ve filmed and the relationships we've built. This is officially my last blog from Kabul--but I will keep writing! (If you're interested, over the past few days I've been able to add pictures to past blog entries. Success!)

Wedding Present for Nilab

Eighteen-year-old Nilab asked for one present from her husband when they were married: his permission to let her teach. “This is the only gift I wanted,” says Nilab—two years later—standing before her fourth grade class. “And he agreed.”

Nilab’s first teaching job is here at the Zabuli School. “I plan everything so carefully, and decide each night how I will start class the next morning and precisely what I will say.”

As she’s talking, I can tell she’s nervous. She pulls me aside and asks, “When you filmed me yesterday, could you hear my voice?” Yes, I tell her. “Oh, I’m so ashamed,” she said, her eyes widening. “I made some mistakes when I was speaking Pashtu. You have to delete it.” You’re trilingual, I tell her, you’re entitled. “No,” she insists, “you have to get rid of it.”

For school director Zia Haidai taking care of the eight teachers here is as important as caring for students. “All of our teachers come from Kabul,” he says—meaning they’re city girls who aren’t used to village life, and, perhaps more important, village life isn’t used to them.

“We are not allowed to go outside the gate,” Farzana, the school’s 3rd Grade teacher says, pointing to the red metal entrance. “The villagers are very conservative, and they don’t approve of us.”

Jeans. Makeup. Visible eyes, nose and mouth. There’s a lot to disapprove of. Zia had to lay down some ground rules. No tight clothing. As little makeup as possible. Head scarves a must all day. No walking on the streets outside the school. Long skirts past the ankles are always preferable to pants.

The teachers, Zia says, are one of the major reasons why he works so hard to keep village elders and religious clerics happy. “I don’t want them to make a rule that our teachers have to wear a burqa like all the other women in the village,” Zia says. He knows that if given a choice between a burqa or a job, they’d all put on their Levis and walk.

But it’s a delicate balance, school founder Razia Jan admits. Keeping everyone happy can be time-consuming and expensive, and it’s already a struggle to keep her own school running.

And as much as I think keeping the villagers happy is a slippery slope, the security concerns demand it. That means delivering freshly slaughtered sheep meat—as they will do this Friday—is as important to their safety plan as the security guards who sit near the gate around the clock.

You don’t have to go far to find girls’ schools under attack. Last year—just 30 minutes down the road—a girls’ school was burned down by terrorists.

“When I hear a report like that on the news,” Zia says, “I call the guards to alert them.” And since phone service is often down in Afghanistan, Zia reminds the guards that they have ten different numbers to call in case of an emergency. Then he spends a sleepless night. “I'm so anxious, and only feel better when I arrive at the school the next day and see for myself that everything is alright.”

Finding Sahera

Sahera holds a copy of Beyond Belief. Her picture became the movie poster and DVD cover for the film.

Three years ago, I had one of the most powerful filming experiences of my career. Susan Retik and Patti Quigley, the two September 11th widows featured in my film Beyond Belief met Sahera Naznia, an Afghan war widow. On the surface, they had absolutely nothing in common--Susan and Patti lived in Boston's wealthy suburbs and enjoy women's rights to their fullest. Sahera was struggling to feed her children and was not permitted to leave the house without wearing a burqa.

But the women connected--as widows, as mothers, as women.

When Susan found out I was heading back to Afghanistan she asked me if I would deliver a video message. The idea of reconnecting with Sahera was almost too good to be true. Despite the fact that she's illiterate (90% of the 500,000 widows in Kabul are), Sahera was one of the most eloquent and poetic women I have ever interviewed.

But would we be able to find her? The search was on.

Thanks to the incredible efforts of so many CARE International staff (Monte, Jasveen, Amy and Zora), we found Sahera! We decided to meet at a CARE Poultry Center in Kabul's District 5, an area that has been hit with three suicide bombings in the past month.

From a second story window, I watched Sahera arrive with her sister-in-law and was surprised she wasn't wearing a burqa. Three years ago she told me that although the burqa blinded her and made her dizzy, she was forced to wear it by her in-laws who told her that a widow--especially a young and beautiful one like herself--could not be seen in public.

"But when my mother-in-law died two years ago, I threw that thing away," she told me this morning. "She was the one who insisted. Now, I don't have to wear it any more. I was so happy to get rid of it," she giggled.

It was the same beautiful and animated Sahera.

(Kevin films as Sahera and her sister-in-law, Sadiqa, watch Susan's video message.)

Her eyes lit up even more when I played Susan's video message. "I am so happy that Beth is back in Afghanistan to share this with you," Susan's voice rose from my laptop. "I feel such a connection to you... I miss you, and I love you."

Susan shared news from her life--remarried now to Donald Ger, they welcomed baby Rebecca into the family last year. Sahera was visibly moved, "I'm so happy for her. I can see how happy she is," Sahera beamed.

Sahera is doing well, too. When I met her in May 2006, she was part of a poultry program supported by Susan's organization, Beyond the 11th, and she earned money by selling the eggs. It was just enough to support herself and her five children. But when chickens in the village started getting sick, Sahera sold her birds and focused on sewing.

"Selling the chickens gave me money to buy fabric, and now women in the village hire me to sew." It's enough, she says, so that all of her children can go to school. But they still struggle. When her oldest son was accepted at Nangharar College in Jalalabad earlier this year, he had to turn it down because she can't afford the dormitory fees.

"It's still my dream," Sahera says, "that my son will be the first person in the family to go to college."

In her video message, Susan acknowledged all that Sahera has been through in her life. "I hope that when your children get older they have the strength and dignity that you possess. They are so lucky to have you as a mother."

"The bond that we have is not typical," Sahera said of her feelings for Susan. "We are not just two people who have met. We are like sisters. I hope that we will meet again."

The Problem with American Men

We've visited one family at home since we've been here, and had no trouble filming because the two girls are orphans and the aunt they live with is a widow. So, that means there is no man in the family to tell them that they can't be filmed. Free to make up their own minds, they are excited to participate.

But today was different. We were invited into the home of Hameida, a first grader at the Zabuli Girls' School, who lives with seven women and two men (her father and grandfather). And there was no way these men were going to allow Kevin, a foreign man--and worse an American man--intimate access to their home where he would see their women's faces. Disappointed, he handed the camera over to me.

"This is what happens here," our translator said as Kevin graciously accepted a cup of coffee from the school administrator. "The men sit around and get served coffee, and the women go to do the work." No laughter from Kevin. Or from me, for that matter.

And even though I was being allowed to enter the family's home, no one wanted to draw attention to the filming or to give the neighbors any clue what was happening. I wrapped the camera in pretty floral fabric, rocked it in my arms like a baby and snuck right through the gate, unnoticed.

Tomorrow I'll be going it alone again - and just wish I had some pithy, lapidary comments to sum up my views on the gender problem.

Instead, I'm grateful we're getting footage of these families at all. And I'll choose to focus on the other fun things that are happening here -- today I hugged a sheep and flew a kite.

Afghanistan the new Vietnam?

A former North Vietnamese army officer thinks so. Read this GlobalPost dispatch. And don't miss the Reporter Notebook - great read.

First Day of School

When 18-year-old Raila Wafa took her seat in fifth grade class this morning, she officially became the oldest student at the Zabuli Girls' School.

"I'd like to put her in Grade 6," said school founder Razia Jan. "But we don't have a sixth grade yet because of funding." What will happen when fifth graders graduate? "We'll add one then," she says, just like they added a fifth grade class this year for all the fourth graders who graduated last year.

Raila was one of three students for whom today was the very first day of school here. For the other two students, today was their very first day of school--period.

(Majida at recess on her first day of school.)

Although eleven-year-old Majida and eight-year-old Baso had repeatedly asked to go to school, their father would never allow it. Instead, he insisted the girls stay home and work in the family's grape fields, harvesting grapes by hand when they're ripe in the summer, and removing dead leaves from the plants during the winter and spring.

But after meeting with Razia yesterday, their uncle--who is a village elder and teacher--intervened.

"My uncle came over last night and begged my father to let me and my two sisters come to school," Majida said in a quiet voice. "He finally agreed for me and my younger sister, but not my older sister. She's 17."

When both Majida and Baso failed the entrance exam (and their ages keep them from entering kindergarten), I assumed Razia would send them on their way. When she didn't, I assumed it was because their uncle is a powerful figure in the village, and she wanted to keep him happy in order to secure his support for the school.

I was wrong on both counts.

"For the first time in their lives their father is willing to let them go to school," Razia said as the girls were being led to first and third grade class. "This is their one opportunity. How could I possibly say no to that?"

As praise is coming in from Afghanistan's president for Obama's new war plan, the Afghans we talk with say they're cautiously optimistic. "I don't want to focus on then negative," one person told us. "But you see on people's faces here that they are anxious. They are just waiting for what's next. No one really knows."

While calling the growth of radical forces here the greatest threat to America and the world, Obama laid out a plan that will put more American troops here (4,000 now are added to the 17,000 already announced), do more to train Afghan forces, and (if Congress approved it) hand over $1.5 billion to Pakistan to help fight terrorism.

I'm no terrorism expert, but I've been re-reading Ghost Wars, and Pakistan has a long and troubling history with the Taliban, and there is still evidence that the Pakistani Intelligence Service is largely responsible for supplying the Taliban and Al Qaeda with money and weapons.


Also...
Interesting reading from Foreign Affairs on strategy of target killings--made popular by Israel, and now being adopted more and more by U.S. in War on Terror.

Meeting the Mullah

Across the street from the Zabuli Girls’ School is a mosque with a madrassa, an Islamic religious school where boys study and memorize the Koran. Madrassas have earned a bad reputation of late—associated with producing militant Islamists who interpret religion in violent ways. In Pakistan especially, Taliban fighters are known to have been educated at Saudi-backed madrassas teaching Wahhabism, a particularly fiery brand of Islam.

But there are still madrassas, like this one in Deh Subz, where boys come not to be Taliban, but to become Talibs or teachers.

“The word Talib can be somewhat misleading here because Talibs are an important part of life in Afghanistan.” says Razia Jan, founder of the Zabuli School. Razia remembers Talibs coming to her home as a child after a death in the family. “There can be as many as 30 Talibs associated with a mosque, and after someone dies they come to your house one- by-one and recite different parts of the Koran. You feed them, and they go.”

Today, after Friday prayers, the mullah (think Catholic church monsignor) of the Deh Subz madrassa and twelve village elders* walked across the dirt road to meet with Razia, school administrators and teachers.

“I’m very proud to see this here,” the mullah said about the school. “But I think it would be good if you could add three classes for boys, too—maybe in the afternoon.”

Razia told them she’d consider it, but she’s more focused on their other request—adding another first grade class and a sixth grade class for girls. “The girls need more classes,” said one village elder who recognizes how good the education is here. He brought his own three daughters to register, and when the principal tested them, he was shocked to discover that his 12-year-old—who had gone through 5th grade in public school—could not even write her name. After a week at the Zabuli School she was able to write both her name and her father’s name.

Allowed to enter fourth grade, the girl is technically at a first grade level—but putting her in first grade at her age is forbidden by the Ministry of Education. Although many other students in this situation are denied entry—we witnessed two girls fail their entrance exam yesterday—school administrators decided it was more important to maintain a good relationship with the powerbrokers in the community. Without the support of the mullah and elders, nothing can be accomplished here. And a lot has already been done to earn their trust, and get them to back girls’ education.

It wasn’t always this way. When the school was being built the mullah and all the village elders pushed Razia to make it exclusive to boys. “They approached me right before we opened and said, ‘This is your last chance to make it a boys’ school,’” Razia recalls. She refused. When they told her that it was more important to educate boys because boys are the backbone of society, she argued, “Boys may be the backbone, but girls are the eyes. You are blind.”


*Village elders do have to be men, but they don’t have to be elderly. Among the twelve village elders who came to the meeting today, 5 were younger men whose jobs and income caused them to rise to prominence here.

Update: We learned the reason for the massive military police presence on the streets heading to Deh Subz yesterday. Some organized criminals from Tarakhel had spent the night attacking cars and robbing passengers.

Kabul at Night

The last time I was here, I didn’t venture out after dark, so I’d never really seen Kabul’s nightlife. But last night we were invited to dinner and a fire pit party at the U.S. Embassy compound, and Razia Jan and I were excited for a night out. Given that Friday is the weekend, Thursday night is a big night for weddings, and the Kabul Dubai Wedding Hall was lit up like a Las Vegas hotel. In Afghanistan men and women are separated during the wedding celebration—this way the women can wear slinky dresses and gyrate on the dance floor to their heart’s content. Live music is played on the groom’s side, and the sound eventually makes its way to the women.

“They pay $10-15,000 for these weddings,” Razia Jan says, “and then they are in debt the rest of their lives.”

When we arrive at the ISAF entrance of the U.S. Embassy compound, we walk down an eerie, dark alley past large, beautifully painted murals. Several of the pictures depict images of peace—two hands clasped, a dove, calm seas—but they are interrupted by a gruesomely graphic image of a man being hanged; he is nearly decapitated, and his body is limp and lifeless. “It was pretty disturbing,” I tell some USAID staff over a dinner of salad and pizza on a heavily fortified deck attached to an apartment. “Welcome to Kabul,” someone says. Yeah, if that’s the worst thing I see here, I guess I’m doing pretty well.

I can’t go into the details of our conversation because most of it was off-the-record, but it was fascinating to learn the degree to which our government officials here live like they’re—these are their words—in a minimum security prison. Don’t get me wrong—it’s a good life, a very American life in the center of Kabul—but the enormous security concerns mean there are a lot of rules that must be followed, and tracking devices in phones and cars let officials know where their staff is at all times.

One younger government worker told me she bribed her driver last month in order to see some of the city. “I asked him to turn off the tracker, gave him $50, and told him to drive me around Kabul.” She asked him not to stop until he thought he’d gone $50 dollar’s worth. But the driver didn’t know where to take her for such a sight-seeing expedition. “I don’t care,” she said. “Show me where you live, show me where you shop, show me anything.”

I can understand her desire—the sights, sounds and smells here overload the senses in a way that makes you feel more alive and energized than ever. Here are some of the things that have caught my attention on the street: a military policeman holding a gun in one hand and a brass teapot in the other; entire animal carcasses hanging on metal hooks in the hot sun; a boy with his pants around his ankles going number two on the side of the road; bright orange shredded carrots piled three feet high; a woman in a burqa balancing 15 pieces of naan on her head as she navigates a steep, rocky hill; kids washing their faces in filthy puddles; a man with only eyes and legs visible from the trash bag he uses to keep dry as he rides his bike in the rain; two men pushing a wobbly cart of fresh coconuts; families living in bombed out, mostly collapsed buildings with no doors or windows; billboards for armored cars boasting “We’re just a phone call away.”

It’s only 10pm when we leave the U.S. Embassy, but already the streets are deserted. There are more Afghan policemen on the road than cars, and they’re spread throughout the city manning checkpoints and stopping anyone who passes.

Green City

Deh Subz means Green City, and it's named so for all the grape vineyards that grow here. The best green grapes and raisins in Afghanistan come from here, and our driver was in the middle of a sentence about the excellent soil quality when we noticed military police lining Pacha Sahib Street, the main road east out of Kabul center. When we turned right onto Deh Subz Road, the line of force kept going--MPs perched in the back of Toyota pickup trucks, mounted machine guns at the ready.

In a city where ISAF, Operation Freedom, and Afghan forces (and all the tanks, military vehicles and guns that go with them) are such a constant presence, this might not seem like a big deal. But this was different, and we could all sense it.

"Today there is much security," our driver said. "There is danger."

The danger is Tarakhel, the village in the center of Deh Subz District. Tarakhel is known as an area where terrorists and organized criminals roam. At a time when kidnappings are on the rise across the country--and most go unreported--Terakhel lays claim to one of the best known crimes: In October 2008 a former presidential candidate and the son of a wealthy banker were thrown in a narrow well and given a small tube to breathe. Three weeks later they were rescued, and news articles said they'd been found in a safe house.

During the day, tanks drive by the school, clogging the entire dirt road as they pass. By the end of the day, though, there's not a soldier or military policeman in sight. We haven't been able to get any news about what happened. Nor do we know why there was a mob gathered around the family entrance of the War Victims' Hospital.

Back in Kabul, we go apartment shopping. We learn from Razia Jan, our host, "We have to move before you leave." I'm having trouble uploading pictures, otherwise I'd show you my "Moving Day" series... the house where we're headed moved out today, and all the furniture was packed up on wooden carts and pulled by an old man down a busy street.

In Case You're Wondering...

I want to provide some updates to past blog entries:

Today we met Khodjia (pictured left), the younger sister of Khudaja, the 11-year-old bride. She is a sweet girl who sat in the back of her class and wandered through the playground alone as the other girls twirled around singing and laughing. Later, we went back to her home, and saw Khudaja and the aunt, their guardian. I can’t get one part of the conversation out of my head: “I don’t want to hit them,” the aunt told me, “but sometimes they drive me to it. Sometimes they aren’t doing what they’re supposed to, so I hit them.” Why was she telling me this? I didn’t even ask. “I can’t hide it from God,” she said. “So why should I hide it from you.”

I also found out that Khudaja’s wedding will most likely happen in three years—when she is 14 and the groom is 12.

After causing a little stir by filming burqa-clad women, we were told we would have to drive in a different car and take a different route. Today, we were in our same car, but did take a different route (and it seemed to us that for the last stretch of the drive –all dirt road—our driver really hit the gas).

(A burqa-clad mother picks her daughters up from school.)

I’m over the whole gender privilege idea. I’m already wearing loose, baggy, long clothing and have my head covered, but now I’ve been advised that--to be sure I don’t offend any men in the village--I should cover up even more. Enter the massive shawl. Still, in this village, that’s the equivalent of wearing a bikini. You will not find one woman—not one, not ever—out in public without a burqa. Gender privilege, my ass. It sucks to be a woman here.

As I mentioned, Deh Subz village is a very conservative Pashtun village. And although Pashtun is the tribe of the Taliban, terrorists have never been able to infiltrate this village. Based on what I found out today—I’m not sure why they’d need to! They already live in Tarakhail, the village next door! Tarakhail is the hometown of Gulbuden Hekmatyar who at this moment is probably looking across cave at his best buddie and roomie, Osama Bin Laden.

In lighter Deh Subz news—this village is the planned site of The New City of Kabul. There’s a 30-year plan to build a new capital city here. Plans include a park that is five times the size of New York’s Central Park.




I’m saving the best for last… A new student registered at the Zabuli School this morning. When the principal asked her father to sign the registration paperwork, he admitted, “I’m illiterate. I only went to school through the third grade.” The principal took out her stamp pad, and the father used his thumbprint to sign. “I want her to be a doctor or a teacher some day,” he said about his 6-year-old daughter. Incredible. Limping because of a war injury, he hobbled out of the school as the principal escorted his daughter to her kindergarten class. The look of anticipation and awe on her face when she was handed her very first notebook and pencil brought tear s to my eyes.

Pajamas to Dinner

You know how we have curbs on the side of the road? You go a little too far and your tires hit, a nice gentle tap reminding you to stop, and protecting you from what’s beyond? Well, here there are wide, deep ditches lining the streets. Go a little too far, and you’re stuck.

And that’s what life is like in Afghanistan. It’s like everyone has fallen in a deep ditch, and is trying to escape. Some are climbing, some are clawing, some are content getting high and sitting at the bottom, waiting for the walls to cave in. Few ever actually make it out.

Things are so difficult and take so long here it’s mind-boggling. We went to the Ministry of Interior General Directorate of Foreigners Affairs Consideration Recording of Population Data Foreigners Registration Office (try turning that into an acronym) to make ourselves “official.” The first time we went in the middle of the workday, but the office had already closed. This time, we had trouble getting in because the skeleton key wouldn’t work. Why bother with the key? I thought. There’s a big hole in the window that’s been patched with a notebook cover – let’s just go in through there.

To hook up to the internet, you have to go to the Ministry of Information with about $200 and your computer in hand, and they’ll set it up. But today they were out of the wireless USB ports and told us to come back. When? They couldn’t say.

And then there’s the electricity. Or rather, the lack of electricity. The power situation is much better than it was – up from one to three hours a day two years ago to twenty hours a day now. But what happens on any given day is always a surprise. Yesterday, the power was out all day. Today, it was on all day. Even the poorest of the poor often have generators to power one light bulb hanging from the middle of the ceiling and more than 50 TV channels (cable is only $5 dollars a month and soap operas and music videos from India are Afghan favorites).

Over dinner tonight the 87-year-old royal family member who is also staying at our house (by the way—is it inappropriate to wear your pajamas to dine with royalty? If the answer is yes, too late) had the answer: solar and wind power. “Why are we getting our electricity from Turkmenistan?” he asked rhetorically. “Then we will always be dependent on them, and they can shut us off anytime they want,” just like Russia did with gas to the Ukraine this winter.

The idea that electricity lines are traveling through the mountains from Turkmenistan to Kabul –and that Americans and other expats are getting paid hundreds of thousands of dollars a year to install them—seemed to baffle everyone at the table. Inefficient doesn’t begin to describe it. But then again, inefficient is just about the perfect way to describe almost everything here.

11-Year-Old Girl Engaged to 9-Year-Old Boy

Pictured are 11-yr-old Khudaja (left) who is engaged, and her 9-year-old sister.

Today, we met Khudaja, a thin, shivering 11-year-old girl with big white teeth and bright dark eyes. “Salaam,” I say to her. “My name is Beth.” With a wide grin, she says right back to me, “My name is Khudaja.”

Khudaja learned some English last year in 3rd grade, her first and only year in school. “I like school a lot. I like to learn.” But three months ago, during school winter break, she became the victim of a fiancé swap. Khudaja’s 18-year-old cousin needed a wife, so her guardian—an aunt—traded her to get a girl for her own son. Khudaja’s fiancé is the 9-year-old younger brother of her cousin’s fiancé. And her future father-in-law is forbidding her to go back to school.

“Maybe you could talk to the boy’s family,” Zia Jan, school administrator, pleaded with the aunt this morning on the front steps outside her mud brick home.

“This is the best thing for us,” the aunt said about the engagement. “There is no other choice for us. We have so many problems because we don’t have a man here to help us.” Her husband was a soldier killed in fighting, and Khudaja’s father (by all accounts an abusive bastard), was murdered by her mother. At mention of the men, Khudaja runs inside and reappears with their pictures.

Zia tries to reason: By the time the boy is ready to marry, Khudaja could finish high school.

(Pictured is Kudaja with her aunt)

For Khudaja this whole conversation is a break from all the housework she is expected to do. As the oldest girl in the home, every chore you can name is her responsibility. She does all the cooking, all the cleaning, all the wash, and all the yard work.

“It is such a tragedy,” says Razia Jan, founder of the Zabuli Girls’ School. “Khudaja and her younger sister, Khodija, are different than every other girl we have at the school. There are 200 girls – and 198 of them are similar. These two are special. They need extra help.”

Khudaja’s younger sister, 9-year-old Khodjia, was in school today. I ask the aunt, “Will you make her be engaged, too, soon?” She shakes her head and chuckles, as though I’ve asked the most ridiculous question she can imagine. “No,” she says, “her sister can finish school. I hope she will finish.”

On our way back to the school from their home, we see two women in periwinkle blue burqas walking down Deh Yahyah Street—one holding the fattest, most colorfully dressed baby you’ve ever seen, the other holding hands with her daughter. It is a sweet and telling scene, and we want to take a picture. But the moment Kevin gets into position in front of them, several male shopkeepers come running down the street, screaming, and waving their arms like lunatics. “What are you doing? Stop! You have no right to take pictures of our women! It is forbidden!”

We return to the school to pick up Iqbal Shah , the night guard. Iqbal grew up in the village, knows everyone, and returns with us to the scene of the crime. Again, the men come—red-faced and nostrils flaring. Iqbal assures them that we have only taken pictures of the children, not the women. There is a loud and animated conversation. Then the men hug. Everything OK?, we ask. Yes, is the answer we both want and receive. Still, we are told that we should keep a low profile over the next few days. We will drive in a different car. We will take a different route. And when we visit homes, Kevin will stay back and I’ll have to go alone to do the interviewing and filming.

The Power of Potential

First thing this morning we headed west out of Kabul for Deh Subz. It’s only 8 miles outside Afghanistan’s capital, but the roads and traffic are so bad that it takes 45-minutes. Still, it’s a big improvement from three years ago when the Zabuli School was being built. Then, there were no roads here at all – and none of the many vegetable shops and homes we now see lining this new street. “Sometimes when there was three feet of snow, we’d get stuck,” Razia Jan reminisced on her first trip back to her school since winter break. “People would have to come and literally lift the car up to rescue us.”

The new road, the shops, the houses – they are all, Razia says, a sign of progress—a sign that although Afghanistan is a land of broken systems, somehow these systems work. Another sign that the system is working is that the Zabuli School exists at all.

Deh Subz is a conservative Pashtun village (despite this fact, the Taliban have never gained a stronghold here). The village elders (all men, of course) make the decisions. Women here rarely venture outside the home, and when they do, they wear a burqa.

Still, the Zabuli School is thriving. Every day 200 girls between the ages of 5 and 16 walk through the school’s bright red gates, up a flight of steps, and into a world that is different than one they have ever known. During registration over the past two weeks, families flocked here in the hopes of getting their girls in. Class size is limited to 35, three languages-including English -are taught, and the school day is 5 hours. The only other option is a school farther away with 3,000 students – nearly equal numbers of boys and girls. There, 120 students are stuffed into each class, English is not part of the curriculum, and children only go to school for one two hour shift a day.

It occurs to me that trying to educate impoverished and underprivileged young girls around the world is a popular thing to do these days. Never mind that it’s always been the right thing to do – from Oprah to best-selling author Greg Mortensen, girls’ schools are a hot topic.

Pictured: Razia Jan greets students at the entrance of the Zabuli School.

“But what happens once the schools are built?” Razia wants to know. As founder of the Zabuli School, she knows first-hand how easily things can start to go wrong. “You can’t leave. You have to be there to make sure everything works.”

And “making sure everything works” here means gaining the support and the trust of men—in the families and in the community. “The first thing girls learn to write here is their father’s name,” she says. “That means a lot in the home.” Tomorrow she plans to schedule a meeting with the village elders to update them on the school’s progress.

“What’s your name?” Razia asked the other girls one by one. Her next question: “Are you engaged? No? Good.”

Razia is even more shocked to learn that one of her second graders has been engaged to a 9-year-old boy. It is the latest in a series of tragedies for this child and her sister. Their mother murdered their father after years of horrific abuse, and fled to Pakistan, leaving the two girls behind. They now live with their aunt, their father’s sister, who is as abusive as their father was. Two months ago the aunt sold one of the girls into marriage. In exchange, she received a teenage girl to marry her older son.

“That’s the way it works here,” Razia says in resignation. “It costs a lot of money for families to get their sons married – as much as $10-15,000. So either you give the money or you sell your daughter.”

Razia is so concerned about the welfare of these two girls, that she has confronted the aunt, and provides groceries to the family in the hopes of earning the girls’ some good will. This week she plans to confront the aunt for a second time. “The girls only come to school when I give the food. That’s not the way it’s going to be. They need to come to school all the time or no more groceries. I want them here so much, but if they can’t study, there are two other girls in the community who will.”

There are so many hurdles when it comes to educating girls in Afghanistan, but that’s part of what makes the potential so enormous. “I would give my life to keep this going,” Razia tells me over our rice and dahl dinner. “The potential. It’s so hard to explain – but when you see it, you know.”

I left there today knowing.

The Weather Outside is Frightful

It’s damn cold in Kabul. And it’s the rainy season. Not a great combination when you’re silly enough not to check the weather forecast before coming and expect balmy, dry 70s. As I’m shivering and trying to wiggle my numbing toes despite three pairs of socks, I notice the young girls at the school wearing nothing but sandals over their bare feet. And they have big smiles on their faces.

Brush, Bowels, and Becoming Gender Neutral

The Brush

We are experiencing a brush with royalty in Kabul. The 5-bedroom home where we are staying also has visitors from Afghanistan's royal family. The daughter-in-law and father-in-law of Mohammed Daoud, the country's first President, came in from the United States and Sweden for Daoud's funeral last week. Daoud had staged a coup against his own cousin, King Zahir Shah in order to take power in 1973, and then himself was killed in a bloody coup in 1978 that sent the country into decades of bloodshed and turmoil.

"If you ask any Afghan when did it all start, they will say it is because of that, the assassination of Daoud, this was the turning point," said Nadir Naeem, Daoud's grandson who left behind a white shirt on the coat rack in the room where I'm now staying. "The last day that Afghanistan was independent was 27th April, 1978." (Quoted from IHT)

Only a couple members of Daoud's family survived the massacre at the Presidential Palace. Those killed were buried secretly in the dead of night and the location of their bodies was unknown until last year when two mass graves were discovered in Kabul. It took six months for DNA and dental record tests to confirm their identities. This past Tuesday a state funeral was held for Daoud, and there are posters of him wearing Jackie-O-like sunglasses all over the city (and on the front and back windshields of an SUV parked in our driveway).

It's interesting to me that all this comes at a time when America's increasing criticism of President Karzai is causing him to warm up to Russia - some have even asked whether there's a New Cold War brewing. Karzai seems to be taking a lesson out of the Daoud playbook - as Daoud was the master manipulator of Cold War superpowers. He once famously said, "I light my American cigarettes with Russian matches."

Bowels

No, not those bowels! This morning I journeyed into the bowels of the Kabul International Airport. Long story short: things got a little crazy on our way out of the airport yesterday and we left behind one of our personal bags. The question was - would it still be there?

On our way through the heavily fortified airport entrance, our car was stopped and Kevin was ordered to get out for searching. When our driver, Zia Jan, also started to open his door, the Afghan police officer motioned for him to stay in the car, "No, you're too old," he said chuckling. "You're not going to carry any guns. You're too old." Interesting security technique.

The luggage handler who annoyed us yesterday when he was grabbing at our bags and trying to "help" push our cart was a very welcome smiling face to see, and he was really there to help. Later he showed us a picture of himself as a younger man wearing a uniform - See, his eyes told me, I did something important once. I wasn't always a baggage boy. As a uniformed officer he would check visas, but was forced to retire. They told him to retire, to relax. But he has a family to support, and being near the airport is the only thing he knows.

My journey into the Luggage Dungeon took me underground - past dilapidated couches piled high and through metal prison doors. Inside, there was a maze of luggage - unorganized, covered in dust, mold and droppings. "Yes, there are lots of mice that start living in the bags," said the claims officer. "There's luggage here from ten years ago." I did not find the bag here. It was still inside the terminal, safely stowed underneath another officer's desk. They'd even wrapped thick tape around it to keep someone from getting inside. I'd like to credit the honesty of all the airport personnel, but some of the good karma, Kevin believes, comes from the 2004 Boston Red Sox hat he takes with him on every trip as a symbol of good luck.

Becoming Gender Neutral

People always ask me - "What's it like to be a woman traveling and working in Afghanistan?" It occurred to me last night that it's better than being a man and it's a bit like becoming gender neutral. It could even be said that there is some gender privilege. So what if a few men here and there don't shake my hand? Western men cannot meet Afghan women as easily as I can meet with both Afghan men and women.

Return to Afghanistan

I'm excited to be back in Afghanistan to film at the Zabuli School, an all-girls' school in the village of Deh Subz, about 8 miles outside Kabul. There has never been a girls' school in this village before and founder Razia Jan is a true force of nature. Despite lots of pressure from the Ministry of Education to turn the school over to the government, she maintains control. "If they got their hands on it," she tells me, "they'd destroy it. In one month there would be boys there, and soon there would be no girls at all."

Kevin Belli and I arrived yesterday - on Nawrooz, the Afghan New Year. We flew in on Ariana Airlines from Istanbul. (I'd spent a week in Turkey with my husband, Dennis, and daughter, Isabelle. It was an incredibly special vacation, and Dennis is such an incredible Dad - spending 21 hours traveling home with Isabelle and taking care of her for these next two weeks while I'm here.) Ariana has an interesting story - it's Afghanistan's national carrier, and during the American bombing campaign after 9/11, the airline lost 6 of its 8 planes. India donated a few airbus jets the following year, and Ariana was back up and running. They may have the planes, but they are still in the dark ages when it comes to booking flights, issuing tickets and actually knowing their own flight schedule. Despite what it says on their website and on any printed material they might send you, there is no flight out of Istanbul at 10pm on Fridays! And as you stand at the ticket counter and watch them tediously hand-writing your ticket, you wonder how you will ever get there at all.

The Ariana flight itself was interesting - filled with lots of Afghans being deported from Turkey. So many people trying to find a better life, a life with opportunity... a life with some hope. One well-dressed man with perfect English approached me, careful not to step too far from the undercover immigration offer who was escorting him. Sher Shah looked about my age, and told me about his years working as an interpreter for U.S. Special Forces and how the Taliban tried to gun him down as he was driving home one day. He immediately sent his wife and two-month-old son to Pakistan, and paid a smuggler $10,000 to try to get himself to the UK; he'd pay another $10,000 once he arrived in London. He was bitter about the way he was treated in Turkey. "I need to be in an English speaking country. I can't stay here in Turkey anyway. They speak a bullshit language here that no internationals can understand."

His plan was to get settled in London and then reunite with his family. But he never made it. His fake passport worked on the way into Turkey, but not on the way out. He spent a month in jail in Istanbul, and now was being deported home. Well, he hesitated to call it home, but couldn't muster another word for it. After several conversations over the next two hours, Sher Shah told me I was his friend now, and he wanted to share with me the two items in his thin, leather wallet: 50 Turkish lira and the email address of his U.S. commander.

Because of the New Year holiday here, the Zabuli School is closed today, so our filming will begin tomorrow. I'm excited to meet the girls (some of whom are 16-years-old and in first grade), and their teachers and families. These girls are the future of this country, but their schooling comes at a time when the Taliban is gaining strength and girls education is increasingly under attack.

Global Post Goes Live

Today is a great day for international news. GLOBAL POST is live. With more than 70 correspondents in every corner of the world and a mission to redefine international news for the digital age, Global News is media entrepreneurship at its best. The special report titled "For Which It Stands" is a must read. And don't miss the video from Afghanistan titled "An Accordian Journey." As my friend and Global News founder Charles Sennott puts it, "The video will make you feel good and how many stories about Afghanistan are built around a performance of Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire?" You have to watch it to know what I mean."

You Can Help Susan Retik Win $35,000 for Afghan Widows. VOTE NOW!

Susan Retik, the founder of Beyond the 11th who was featured in our film "Beyond Belief," is a finalist for the Smart Cookie Award at Cookie Magazine. The winner will receive $35,000 for her foundation. THIRTY-FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS! Imagine the incredible impact that money can have in the lives of women and children. I think of Sahera and her five children who I met while visiting Kabul. Help from Susan's organization means the difference between Sahera having to send her six-year-old daughter to school or out into the street to beg for money and scraps of bread. For other families, the choice for young girls is even more horrific - forced marriage and prostitution. Vote now for Susan Retik (and Beyond the 11th).

As the U.S. increases military activity in Afghanistan, and the Taliban stranglehold grows in different regions, life for women and children continues to deteriorate. But Beyond the 11th is making a difference by providing life-saving financial and emotional support to those who are trapped in an ever-deepening cycle of poverty. Susan's grants help thousands of Afghanistan's more than two million widows become self-sufficient and financially independent.

Susan's work was inspired by the incredible generosity she received after losing her husband, David, on September 11th, and her realization of the scarcity of help for widows in Afghanistan. An editorial Susan wrote recently reminds me how much her work promotes peace and justice and protects humanity.

Together we can help Susan make a difference for the women and children in Afghanistan--a difference that will have a ripple effect throughout the world. There are no obligations to voting- you do not have to subscribe to the magazine and you will not be put on any mailing or call lists. One lucky voter will win a five-night stay for two adults and three children at the Azul Sensatori Hotel by Karisma in Riviera Maya, Mexico.

Please VOTE!

Media Re:public: The Future of News in This Digitial Era

For the past year my friend, Persephone Miel, has been working with the Berkman Center for Internet and Society to answer this complex question: What is the future of journalism in a digital world? After conversations and conferences with journalists, bloggers, citizen journalists, public broadcasters, publishers, advertising networks, researchers, technologists, and many others, they've released a major research report (and a cool short video to go with it).



As I continue to be astonished – and depressed - by the decline in international reporting, I was particularly interested in the research report focused on international news coverage.

Iraq War Coverage: Two Percent is Too Little

Reports that "the surge is working" in Iraq have given Americans permission to say, "Thank God. We don't have to worry about that anymore." And now the media, too, are off to fight the good war in Afghanistan. Despite the fact that the United States is fighting a war in Iraq, only two percent (often less) of all our news coverage is focused on Iraq. A new Columbia Journalism Review article does a good job outlining what's going on with our collective conscience.

"Beyond Belief" Leadership Retreat in Los Angeles

A little late blogging on this... Last week I got back from our first official "Beyond Belief" Countering Terrorism Leadership Retreat in Los Angeles, organized by Americans for Informed Democracy. The all-day event took place on the USC Health Sciences campus and included a keynote speech from Suraya Sadeed, founder of Help the Afghan Children, a screening of "Beyond Belief", Q&A, panel discussion, and roundtable. More than 50 people attended, including high school students from Santa Monica and Compton, USC professors, a handful of college students, and local activists. Despite such a mixed crowd, it was great to see so many people engaged in a discussion about non-violent reponses to terrorism and America's role in the post-9/11 world. Particularly fascinating was a presentation from Ed O'Connell of the RAND Corporation on the importance of bolstering civil society organizations in the Middle East. A few pictures from the event are posted below... stay tuned for some video as well. Thanks to The Fledgling Fund for making this event possible and especially to Lynn Crandall, Laura Kavanaugh, and Vicente Garcia for all their hard work organizing.

Suraya Sadeed is the founder of Help the Afghan Children, which has been working on humanitarian projects in Afghanistan since 1993, during the civil war.

Students talking in the lobby during a break between sessions.

Ed O'Connell (RAND Corporation) telling stories from his time in the Middle East to some high school students from Santa Monica.

Post-screening discussion.

"House Bombs" Deter Iraqi Refugees from Returning Home

In another example of the dangers facing displaced Iraqis trying to return home, the U.S. News and World Report has reported on a new tactic insurgents are using in Diyala province:

The destroyed homes are the result of one of Al Qaeda in Iraq's latest strategies—converting homes into bombs, or "house-borne improvised explosive devices," as they've been dubbed. It's a tactic particular to this province, which is a combustible mix of Sunni, Shiite, and Kurdish residents... Over the past year, some 60 dwellings were destroyed by AQI. Many were demolished as fighters fled when U.S. and Iraqi Army units bore down on their positions. AQI fighters also conceal mines and IEDs in the lush palm and date groves around the area.

Efforts are being made to defuse these bombs and reestablish security as some refugees begin to return:

In response to the dozens of households moving back to the area, local Iraqi reconciliation committees have devised a new strategy. Iraqi and coalition teams will de-mine the areas where fighting has taken place so that residents can return. Then, some of the sons from returning families will be hired as security guards, with a guaranteed paycheck for several months. This has the dual impact of employing returning residents and making the area more difficult for [Al Qaeda in Iraq] to re-establish itself.

Some Christians returning to Mosul

Some good news from Iraq today... After a few days of calm in Mosul, a small number of displaced Christian Iraqis are beginning to return home. Flush with a budget surplus, the Iraqi government has tried to lure persecuted Christians back with payments of 1 million dinars ($865), a tactic it has also used to bring back refugees from Syria. Still, according to a recent report published by Refugees International, Iraq should not be encouraging refugees' return because it has not established "security and essential services Iraqis need to return and rebuild their lives."

When we attended a recent Rutgers Law School symposium "Iraq at a Crossroads," there seemed to be a consensus among the politicians, activists, aid workers and lawyers in the room that, while the "surge" has partially stabilized the country, Iraq is still a long way from achieving the kind of political stability and security that will allow refugees to return in large numbers.

Stay tuned for some video from the symposium, including a keynote speech from Rajiv Chandrasekaran, National Editor for The Washington Post and author of Imperial Life in the Emerald City.

Half of Mosul's Christians have fled the city

A lot of press has been devoted lately to the continued persecution of Iraqi Christians in the city of Mosul. CNN International reports today that an estimated 13,000 Christians have fled the northern Iraqi city amidst rising sectarian tensions in the area. There has been much debate in the international community about how to respond to this new wave of refugees, with Germany arguing back in April that the EU should give preferential treatment to Christians over other religions and groups. The proposal was rejected, but with this latest wave of violence, there have been renewed calls from Pope Benedict XVI for assistance to persecuted Christians, both in Iraq and India.

George Packer's "Betrayed" airing tomorrow at 9pm on WNET New York

For those in the New York area, a performance of George Packer's acclaimed play "Betrayed" will air tomorrow night at 9pm on Thirteen/WNET. Packer is a writer for The New Yorker and author of The Assassin's Gate: America in Iraq, one of the definitive books on the U.S.-led occupation of Iraq. His new play focuses on the plight of Iraqi interpreters and is an extension of a widely-read article he wrote back in March 2007. Both the article and the play are well-worth checking out.

Kirk Johnson profiled in the Chicago Daily Herald

The Chicago Daily Herald has written a nice profile piece of Kirk and the origins of The List Project. Kirk is one of the main subjects of our upcoming documentary The Promise of Freedom.

Here's a video profile we recently did on Kirk as a sample for the Pulitzer Center-sponsored YouTube contest Project:Report...

Is Iraq losing it's youth?

Elizabeth Ferris and Navtej Dhillon wrote an interesting piece in The Guardian yesterday that explores the demographic effects of the Iraqi refugee crisis. Here's an excerpt from the article, entitled "Iraq's Missing Generation":

Youth, not oil, is Iraq's most precious asset in building a stable and prosperous future. In 2002, before the US invasion, around 60% of Iraq's population was under the age of 30 – many with high school and university education. Today, too many of those young people are among the 2.2 million Iraqi refugees living in countries such as Syria, Jordan and Lebanon.

As Iraq takes important steps towards national reconciliation and economic development, no one is paying attention to young Iraqi refugees. Their plight is largely portrayed through a sectarian lens. But when the focus shifts to the age of those uprooted, it is clear that a large number are young men and women, struggling with displacement at the prime of their life. Rather than building their future careers and families, their plans are on hold and their hopes are in limbo.

Indeed, many of the Iraqis on Kirk Johnson's list are young, educated people in their 20's and 30's. In the face of death threats from radical militias, these Iraqis often have no choice but to flee the country, but questions remain about how Iraq's "brain drain" will affect the long-term stability of the country and it's capacity to rebuild. Is Iraq in danger of becoming another failed state like Afghanistan?

New Bill to Help Displaced Iraqis

From the website of Sen. Robert Casey:

WASHINGTON, DC- U.S. Senators Bob Casey (D-PA) and Ben Cardin (D-MD) introduced legislation that would require the Secretary of State to develop a comprehensive regional strategy to address the mass displacement of Iraqis. To date, Congress has not passed any significant legislation addressing the needs of millions of Iraqis who have been forced to flee from their homes.

“The Bush Administration lacks a comprehensive regional strategy to address the mass influx of Iraqi refugees into neighboring countries,” said Senator Casey. “We have a moral responsibility to help the millions of Iraqis who have been displaced from their homes. It is my hope that this bill will take the necessary first steps to develop a long-term strategy to address the needs of vulnerable Iraqis.”

“The lack of planning on the part of this administration and the absence of any long-term comprehensive plan to deal with refugees, threatens to destabilize the entire region and undermine security in Iraq,” said Senator Cardin. “We must act quickly and coherently. Too many of the 4.7 million displaced Iraqis remain stranded, jobless, and deprived of essential services with their conditions worsening by the day.”

The Support for Vulnerable and Displaced Iraqis Act of 2008 would:

Address the serious challenges facing Iraqi refugees, including: lack of legal status; inadequate U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) and nongovernmental organizations resources; limited access to education and healthcare; critical food shortages; and inadequate shelter, drinking water, sanitation and protection;

Address the responsibility of the Government of Iraq to help meet the urgent needs of its citizens in Iraq and in the region and steps the United States can take to provide support in this area;

Include an assessment of needs of vulnerable Iraqis in Iraq and an estimate of assistance required in order for the United States to help meet these needs;

Include the number of refugees from Iraq the United States plans to resettle in the United States;

Include an assessment of what conditions are necessary for the voluntary, safe, sustainable return of displaced Iraqis;

Include a description of the steps the U.S. Government has taken and will take to engage the international community to implement the strategy; and

Include plans to assess the impact of the strategy.

Since the beginning of the Iraq War in 2003, it is estimated that as many as two million Iraqis have fled their homes to neighboring countries to avoid sectarian and other violence while over 2.7 million have been displaced internally in Iraq. The massive displacement of Iraqis in Iraq and the region has overwhelmed existing social, economic, and security capacities of countries in the region, particularly Iraq, Jordan and Syria. Increasing poverty and despair among displaced populations may provide fertile ground for possible recruitment by extremist groups.


To find out more about what you can personally do to help displaced Iraqis, visit The List Project.

A New Approach to U.S. relations with the Muslim world?

The New York Times yesterday highlighted a new report "calling for an overhaul of American strategy to reverse the spread of terrorism and extremism." Here's an excerpt:

The report recommends more diplomatic engagement, even with Iran and other adversaries, and a major investment in economic development in Muslim countries to create jobs for alienated youth. It calls on the next president to use his Inaugural Address to signal a shift in approach, to immediately renounce the use of torture, and to appoint a special envoy within the first three months to jump-start negotiations between Israel and the Palestinians.

The report, “Changing Course: A New Direction for U.S. Relations with the Muslim World,”; was produced by 34 leaders drawn from religious, business, military, foreign policy, academic, foundation and nonprofit circles. The group included Democrats like Madeleine K. Albright, who was secretary of state under President Bill Clinton, and two former Republican congressmen, Vin Weber and Steve Bartlett.

This comes just 2 days before we are set to hold our first of five Beyond Belief student conferences in partnership with Americans for Informed Democracy, an amazing organization committed to "empowering young people in the United States to address global issues—poverty, health, climate change, peace and security—through awareness-raising and actions that promote just and sustainable solutions on their campuses, in their communities, and nationally."

These conferences, made possible by The Fledgling Fund, will be major part of our ongoing outreach campaign to bring the film's message of cross-cultural understanding and citizen diplomacy to a wider audience.

Here's a quick clip from Beyond Belief that demonstrates the power of dialogue to break down cultural boundaries...

Bush: More Troops to Afghanistan

Thursday, Jul. 03, 2008 By AP/BEN FELLER

(WASHINGTON) — Grappling with a record death toll in an overshadowed war, President Bush promised Wednesday to send more U.S. troops into Afghanistan by year's end. He conceded that June was a "tough month" in the nearly seven-year-old war.

In fact, it was the deadliest month for U.S. troops in Afghanistan since the conflict began. More U.S. and NATO troops have died in the past two months in Afghanistan than in Iraq, a place with triple the number of U.S. and coalition forces. In June, 28 U.S. troops died in Afghanistan. That was the highest monthly total of the entire war, which began in October 2001.

For the full U.S.-led coalition in Afghanistan the death toll was 46, also the highest of the war. "One reason why there have been more deaths is because our troops are taking the fight to a tough enemy, an enemy who doesn't like our presence there because they don't like the idea of America denying safe haven (to terrorists)," Bush told reporters. "Of course there's going to be resistance."

Bush said it was a tough month too for the Taliban. But the once-toppled Islamist regime in Afghanistan has now rebounded with deadly force. He confronted the grim direction of the Afghanistan conflict during a sun-splashed Rose Garden appearance. The president used the event to tout his agenda for an upcoming Group of Eight meeting in Japan with world leaders, then addressed Iran, climate change and gasoline prices in a short Q&A session with reporters.

The Pentagon predicts the pace of attacks in Afghanistan by a resurgent Taliban is likely to rise this year, despite U.S.-led efforts to capture key leaders. "We're going to increase troops by 2009," Bush said, without offering details about exactly when or how many.

It amounted to a reiteration of a promised buildup of U.S. troops in Afghanistan by Bush. He said coalition forces have doubled in size over two years, and pledged that the twin strategy of fighting extremists and supporting Afghanistan's civil development "is going to work."

The Pentagon's top military officer said Wednesday that if security continues to improve in Iraq he is hopeful he will begin to have troops available to shift to Afghanistan by the end of this year. Adm. Mike Mullen, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, said more troops are essential to stem the violence. "The Taliban and their supporters have, without question, grown more effective and more aggressive in recent weeks, and as the casualty figures clearly demonstrate," Mullen said. He added that "there's no easy solution, and there will be no quick fix."

In terms of public attention, the war in Afghanistan has been obscured by the far costlier and deadlier one in Iraq.

But it is a matter of consensus within the Bush administration, and between the U.S. and key allies, that there are far too few troops in Afghanistan to fight the accelerating Taliban and to train Afghan soldiers and police.

Overall, roughly 32,000 U.S. troops are in Afghanistan, including 14,000 serving with NATO forces and 18,000 conducting training and counterinsurgency, the largest U.S. presence since the war began.

Associated Press writers Robert Burns and Lolita C. Baldor contributed to this report.

What We Want in a Newsman

A Columbia Journalism Review piece opines about what all the Tim Russert replacement talk says about what we as viewers are looking for in newscaster. I know I'm never looking for an anchor, but rather a reporter who just happens to be good in the anchor seat. And you couldn't ask for a better political reporter than Tim Russert. That's becuase he cut his chops as an indispensible news source - first as chief of staff to Senator Patrick Moynihan, then as counselor to NY governor Mario Cuomo. And unlike so many of today's entertainment newspeople, who won't let inconvenient facts get in the way of their "good story," Russert never tried to manipulate us. Tom Brokaw is a reporting legend, too, but still, when I watch my Tivo recordings of "Meet the Press" on Monday nights, I'll be sorry to see him sitting in Tim's seat...

Iraqi Refugees Struggle to Find Jobs in America

On Saturday afternoon forty-eight Iraqi refugees who have resettled in the U.S. arrived at Reagan International Airport. The men wore pressed suits and ties and the women had freshly polished fingernails and high heels. They were clearly dressed to impress. In their luggage they carried a most prized possession - resumes detailing their work with American companies, the American military and the American government in Iraq. While they are a unique refugee group -- all are college-educated professionals -- they face the most common refugee problem: continuing their careers in America.

"I helped Army soldiers understand the Muslim culture. I trained them. Why can't I do that same job here in the United States? Before the soldiers go to Iraq?," one middle-aged Iraqi man pleaded with a job advisor from Upwardly Global, a non-profit organization that partnered with The List Project to organize a job search skills conference in Washington, D.C. this week.

Iraqis learned the hard truths about hunting for a job here: human resources managers spend an average of 20 seconds on every resume, personal stories (even the heart-wrenching ones they all have to tell) have no place in a job interview, the economy is terrible, resumes should be limited to a page or two (most of theirs are 3, 4 and 5 pages), and, most difficult for them to hear, don't expect their employers in Iraq to hire them in America.

"Iraqis are having a hard time coming to terms with the reality that while their education and skills were valued in Baghdad, Fallujah, and Basra, they are not valued here," says Jane Leu, Upwardly Global's founder and president. "These people were leaders in Iraq, and they will be leaders here if given the chance. The idea that all immigrants have to pull themselves up by their boot straps is outdated."

Titan Corporation, the single largest employer of Iraqi translators, has not hired even one single Iraqi who has has resettled in America. And while study after study shows how a lack of Arabic translators hurts national security, no Iraqis who worked for the government in Iraq have been hired by the State Department.

"I don't want focus on the negative. I need to move forward," says Emam Al-Timimi who worked for the State Department in Baghdad. Emam may not have her career back yet, but, she says, she does have a job: setting an example for Iraqis who come here in the future. "I want to show them that it is possible to succeed here. I know it is. I hope."

(Listen to NPR report "Iraqi Refugees Struggling to Rebuild Life in America.")

Kirk Johnson on CBS 60 Minutes

Kirk Johnson and The List Project are the focus of Principle Pictures' newest feature documentary. We have been filming with Kirk and the Iraqis on his list since August 2007.

When Kirk Johnson came home from Iraq after working for the U.S. Agency for International Development, he had a plan: get into the best law school he could. But that plan changed when Kirk heard about Ahmed*, an Iraqi colleague who was receiving death threats. Ahmed also worked for USAID, and although he had tried to hide what he did for a living, the militia werfe ollowing him. They branded Ahmed a traitor, left death threats on his door, and forced him to start a life on the run. "I asked my bosses at USAID to transfer me," he says. "I would go anywhere in the world - to any country. But they said, no, we're sorry. If you do not come back to work in Baghdad, you are terminated."

Ahmed would become the first person on Kirk's "List" which has become a huge database of Iraqis who believed in America's vision of building a democratic Iraq. Like so many of the other Iraqis who signed on as interpreters, drivers and reconstruction specialists, Ahmed had grown up watching Hollywood movies, practicing English, and hoping that one day Iraqis would be able to acheive their own version of the American Dream. In the Spring of 2003, it seemed that day had come.

But it didn't take long before the once coveted U.S. work badges became a symbol of "collaboration" with the enemy, and Ahmed and his friends began leading double lives. Ahmed told his family he had quit his job with the Americans, and pretended to go to work every day for an Iraqi company.

A year later the death threat came... punctuated by the severed head of a small dog. The message was - "You're next."

That day, Ahmed and his wife left their home and their country. Not long after, Ahmed and Johnson reconnected. They were two guys who had bonded in the frenzied excitement over Iraq's reconstruction. Together, they had set out to do their part in building a stable, democratic Iraq. And at the time, it hadn't seemed at all naive. Why should it have? At the time, everything seemed possible. But all that had changed. Johnson was back in Chicago after a devastating accident caused by his own post-traumatic stress issues. And Ahmed was running for his life.

Neither could have anticipated it at the time, but finding each other again meant an attempt to fulfill a new dream. Johnson started The List Project to help Ahmed and other Iraqis who have been branded "traitors" by the militias for aiding the U.S.-led war effort. Today, there are more than 1,000 names on Johnson's list. About 40 of them have been allowed into the United States... Ahmed is one of them.

*Ahmed's name has been changed to protect his safety and the safety of his family.

Grand Jury Prize for BEYOND BELIEF

Exciting news from the Indianpolis International Film Festival where BEYOND BELIEF won Best Documentary. Congratulations to THE GREATEST SILENCE: RAPE IN CONGO for being awarded the Eric Parker Social Justice Award.

Where's Monica's Pink Ribbon?

When my friend, Monica*, was first diagnosed with breast cancer in her early 30s, she expected to do what all breast cancer survivors are expected to do: fight it, stay positive, and, above all, never let down her peers by being diagnosed again.

But not long after her daughter was born, Monica's cancer came back. Every doctor's appointment brought more disappointing news about where the disease was spreading. And little by little the pink ribbons and chemo-comraderie that defined her first battle with cancer were gone. The word "survivor" was replaced with "tragedy," and a reporter told her that her story was too depressing for a drive-time audience. "I think it'd be better if you just stopped your story with the birth of your daughter," the reporter advised. Silence. "Is that out of line?"

Out of line? Perhaps. But whose fault is that? The "diagnosis-fight-happy ending" story is exactly the one audiences expect--and want--to hear. While feminism may have helped breast cancer surivors unite, fear continues to allow metastatic patients to be ostracized. And the universally upbeat tone of the breast cancer movement often fails to communicate the strongest message of all: breast cancer is a disease that kills. Indiscriminately.

(*Name has been changed to protect identity.)

Beyond Belief Wins Best Documentary at Sonoma Valley Film Festival

It is no surprise that the Sonoma Valley Film Festival is considered one of the best destination film festivals around. I loved every second of my time there (even when it was 90 degrees on Saturday and finding a glass of wine was easier than tracking down water!). The festival is extremely well organized by people who really care about films and filmmakers. Particularly exciting for me was that my husband, Dennis, and 7-month-old daughter, Isabelle, joined me for the event, and two days before the Awards Ceremony Isabelle started clapping for the first time! So, when BEYOND BELIEF won, she was ready! Read the Sonoma News article here.

Freakonomics Blog Spreads Buzz

Read here.

Congratulations, Ilir!

Ilir is packing his bags and heading to Boston to get his MA in Photojournalism at BU. I'm so proud of you, Ilir! (For background on Ilir's journey from Kosovo's ashes to college... see blog entry on Wednesday, January 16, 2008.)

A United Nations Day

When I told my mother that BEYOND BELIEF was screening at the United Nations the day after Easter, she reacted with the kind of surprise and amazement that told me I had earned her respect in a new way. "Wow. Beth. The United Nations..." is all the formerly eloquent English teacher could muster. My mother-in-law had a similar reaction, and the next thing I knew the three of us were having our picture taken in front of UN Headquarters with the 179 Member State flags flying in an undulating row behind us and sharing stories about my family's Italian and Hungarian heritage and my husband's Irish ancestry.

At lunch when the waiter suggested the special turbot fish that had just been flown in from Holland, I couldn't resist. We were heading to the Dag Hammarskjöld Library, after all, and I imagined this high-end fish was just the kind of meal a Netherlands diplomat and former Secretary-General would eat during lunch breaks. Two hours later, I greeted UN staffers and special guests with a full belly and a new nickname: "Turbo" (which we decided was better than "Litte Miss Fifty Dollar Fish").

Every time I have an opportunity to connect with audiences I am grateful. But to do it at the UN was something truly special. The event was organized by Gay Rosenblum-Kumar for the United Nations Department of Political Affairs, the Department of Economic and Social Affairs, and the United Nations Development Programme, and Susan Koscis of Search for Common Ground. Together, Gay and Susan's sheer love of film and dedication to advocacy keeps a film series going on a shoe-string budget.

Following the screening, I joined Susan Retik (one of the 9/11 widows featured in the film) and S.K. Guha, a senior program specialist with the United Nations Development Fund for Women, for a panel discussion with the audience. A Norweigan woman in the front row made an astute observation about the Taliban's misrepresentation of Islamic law. An American diplomat wanted to understand how my own life had been effected by the filming experience. And an Iraqi refugee wanted Susan to share her thoughts about the politicization of 9/11 - "How do you feel about your husband's memory being used to fuel other acts of violence?" he asked.

As Susan began to answer, I looked up into the crowd, and all the way in the back row I could see my mother... snapping pictures...