The Kurram conflict is a legacy of numerous great games that have been played out by empires in the region.
After the fall of Ranjit Singh's Khalsa Raj in united India, British came into conflict with the Afghans, the time known as the era of the great Afghan wars. British colonial administrators of India tried to control these areas by various methods: proxy wars, installation of ‘friendly’ governments and even direct intervention.
It was vital to check the imperial Bear, the phenomenon of Russian expansionism in Central Asia. However, the first effort at direct intervention, the fabled first Afghan War, by January 1842, resulted in only one survivor, Dr. Brydon, reaching Jalalabad to narrate the tragic story of the massacre of his comrades. A historian writes: "A large British-led army had not been wiped out so completely in living memory."
In 1893, the Afghan King Abdur Rahman Khan demarcated a border with the British, creating the Durand Line. Under this agreement, some areas became part of British India under the name of ‘Agencies,’ which were in reality a buffer zone between India and Russia.
The Russian Empire was separated from British India by an eight miles wide strip of land called the Wakhan Corridor. This strip of land and Afghanistan on the West served as buffers between the two great powers, British and Russians, who had come eye-ball to eye-ball in this region.
The British defeat in the first Afghan war has been the centre price of the Agencies’ claim to fame; you will find paintings glorifying this war in the offices and colonial era residences of political agents (now DCOs) of these areas.
Ironically, this ‘great victory of the tribes’ was also emblematic of the repressiveness of these areas, the reason why they were almost always ‘left alone’ in terms of socio-economic empowerment.
If you read even a few historic accounts from the Afghan wars era, you will stumble upon the words ‘these areas were inhabited by fierce tribes.’ This became a worldview that has persisted till today- security was the only imperative considered necessary here.
After the first Afghan war followed the Sandeman system, whose effect was the raising of tribal levies, or Khasadars, and installing ‘friendly’ local Maliks, who could control the loyalties of the tribes. In return, Maliks got large grants and subsidies. This was not very successful. A ‘Masterly inactivity’ policy was then adopted in which they British administrators basically closed their eyes to activities of the tribes, and instead concentrated on strengthening border defenses.
This essentially became the worldview of administrators of these areas regarding socio-economic development; these areas better served their purpose as strategic bulwarks of security, rather than having any other intrinsic importance.
The British believed that the Russians could attack any time to reach India’s warm waters, and they anticipated such an attack from the Afghan side. With this view, the British considered their North-Western Border as the most vulnerable one, better defended militarily.
This established this area’s strategic importance, but sadly, also deprived it of any socio-economic development coming India’s way. In 1901, the Viceroy of India, Lord Curzon, separated Hazara, Peshawar, Kohat, Bannu and Dera Ismail Khan from Punjab, and made it a new province, calling it the North-Western Border Province (NWBP). We inherited this name on partition, calling it the North West Frontier Province, or NWFP, renamed in 2010 as Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa (K-P).
The British government administered NWBP through a Deputy Commissioner, while they appointed a political agent for each of the seven agencies above this border province. These agencies were administered directly by the Central Indian Government. The political agent was never representative of the people, but always of the government.
The only perspective in which the British viewed the agencies was in terms of security, and therefore these areas came to be associated with military campaigns, fortifications, fierce tribes, glorious battles and militarisation. The unfortunate turn of history that made these areas a buffer zone has persisted throughout, even in recent history.
This security mindset of the ruling class, the mindset of the elites, is one of the main reasons for the long-standing backwardness of this area. Whenever there were reforms in India in the British era, these tribal agencies were never given their share. This was not just because they these areas lacked political representation, but it was primarily the mindset that too much development would ‘dilute’ the ‘martial’ nature of this area.
In the early 20th century, when roads and associated infrastructure were being laid in India, the agencies were deprived of any such thing. Then, in 1909, when the Morley-Minto Reforms were taking place in India, the agencies did not get any share of socio-economic plans that were implemented throughout India. Subsequently, when the Mont- Ford Reforms took place in 1919, their share also did not reach the tribal agencies.
In fact, these areas were deliberately being kept behind socio-economically, because they needed to exist in their own ‘martial’ universe, for the sake of strategic interest of ruling elites. Despite this, tribal leaders from these areas are on record for constantly contacting the British rulers and political parties of India, asking for reform.
These tribal leaders constantly met the British government, the Muslim League and the Congress, demanding that their people be given a share in the dividend of the reforms. No one heard. So much for ‘political participation.’
In 1947 these areas became a part of Pakistan but instead of integration in the NWFP, Pakistan continued the British political agent system through aka FATA. Frontier Crimes Regulations (FCR) empowered the political agent as the ultimate authority in these areas. A political agent had at his disposal un-audited wealth and unchecked exercise of powers; the institution gained notoriety for carrying corruption and financial well being with the perks of the ‘seat.’
The FCR was a mixture of executive powers and traditional customs and norms. It has been called as the book of ‘Riwaj’ or local customs. It was a set of outdated and draconian laws more in tune with medieval times than the twentieth century.
These laws were designed to keep in subjugation people believed to be incorrigible; human rights were largely ignored and basic liberties glossed over, through abstract notions of ‘traditions.’
At the turn of the 21st century, erstwhile FATA in Pakistan was an extremely backward area by any comparison. There were few livelihood opportunities available to the people. The local economy was chiefly pastoral, with agriculture practised in a few fertile valleys.
Most households were engaged in primary-level activities such as subsistence agriculture and livestock rearing, or small-scale business conducted locally. A population of around 3.5 million (estimated in 2001 but there has never really been a ‘real’ census) had so little arable land that each acre of cultivable land had to be utilised for supporting at least 40 people.
In the absence of viable options to earn a living, the lure of illicit activities such as smuggling (consumer goods, weapons) and drug trafficking was difficult to resist, as was the call of radical elements. The literacy rate of FATA was 17.42% ( estimated in 2001, and perhaps bit too generously even then), which was below the 43.92% average in Pakistan. 29.51% of the males and only 3% of females received education. Electricity was free (but only available part of the day) and no taxes were collected. Only about 7 % land was cultivable. This belies that FATA did not get any substantive share of development.
The same mindset of the ruling elites persisted; FATA was better off as a buffer zone between Afghanistan and Pakistan, and it was presumably better to retain the martial nature of this area. After all, with socio-economic empowerment comes realisation of rights, and no one really wanted to dilute the ‘hardy’ nature of tribesmen from these areas. Oh, and by the way, maybe it was too difficult to deal with the recalcitrant tribes, existing in their own parallel universe of archaic tradition and customs, so why not just ‘leave them to their own devices?’ These ‘hardy’ tribesmen have been the stuff of dreams for successive ruling elites, the ultimate cannon fodder to be used in endless proxy wars in this region. Why transform these ‘hardy tribesmen’ to ‘soft’ citizens demining rights and seeking jobs when they could be mobilised as warriors, by giving them a suitable ‘cause’ to fight for?
Then came the long needed healing touch, when after 71 years of Pakistan's formation, these areas were made a part of Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa province in 2018.
What happens now?
Well, it remains to be seen. One thing is for sure- FATA agencies will not transform overnight into peaceful, bustling districts. Subjected to decades of neglect and regressive policies, they will need more than just abolition of FCR and installing administrative structures. This area will need a genuinely motivated healing touch.
The unfortunate epicentre
Kurram is divided into three parts, Upper, Central and Lower Kurram. Its total population is a little above 785,000. Many tribes live here including Turi, Bangash, Mangal and Makbal. As much as 43% of the population of the Kurram agency is Shia by religious persuasion, while 57% of the population is Sunni. The Shias mostly live in the Upper Kurram, which is the closest area to Afghanistan, and here the city of Parachinar is of utmost strategic importance. Central and Lower Kurram is mostly inhabited by the Sunni tribes.
This demography has unfortunately resulted in problems since the 1980s, when a new great game had started in the world. A more diversely blended population might have resulted in greater integration; the sectarian demographic divide has been problematic in isolating the worldview of these communities. Tribes generally keep to themselves, and so did both the sects, to some extent. However, things were definitely more cordial between them till the great Iranian revolution of 1979, when the Saudi- Iranian proxy wars started in earnest. Kurram was one of the first areas where this proxy war took hold.
Both Iran and Saudi Arabia started indoctrinating their fellow Muslims, giving funds to ideologically affiliated madrassahs, granting scholarships to young people from their faith etc. Sectarianism in these areas is also an extension of tribal rivalries. The Shia Turi tribe had initially settled in lower Kurram in early 18th century, gradually losing grazing lands to the Sunni Bangash and Zaimusht tribes.
The Mangals and Muqbals, once vassals of the Turi, also enriched themselves through timber and cross-border trade, further encroaching on Turi dominance. During the Afghan war Ziaul Haq utilised the migration of afghan refuges to Kurram as a strategic tool; as discussed below, perhaps it was more strategic than anything else, but the Shias perceived it as a ploy to further strengthen the Sunnis.
Parachinar was at the hub of the sectarian great games at that time, being played out between Iran and Saudi Arabia. When the Shia revolution came to Pakistan, a renowned cleric, Allama Syed Arif Hussain Al Hussaini (1946-1988) was from Parachinar. Allama Hussaini was a political leader of the Tehrik-e-Jafaria party. Allama Hussaini is also known as Khomanei-e-Pakistan.
Allama Ali Husseini became the wakil or the main representative of the Khomeini government in Pakistan. Thus, he helped shape the Shia outlook in Pakistan. In response, Saudi Arabia started bringing people from the Sunni sect, especially from the Salafi sect, in an attempt to dilute the Shia population of Kurram. What had started out as sporadic bickering and isolated clashes over Muharram processions became a regular flashpoint for the two communities, especially after 2001.
In the early 1980s when Afghanistan started the Afghan jihad with the cooperation of the US, Saudi Arabian and Pakistani establishments against Soviet Russia, a large number of young people from erstwhile FATA were sent to Afghanistan for Jihad. Parachinar was a central player in this conflict, because from here, Afghanistan's center Kabul was only 90 km away.
Thus, a geographic coincidence also shaped the unfortunate history of this area. If you look at political maps of Afghanistan and Pakistan, Kurram seems to project sharply into the heart of Afghanistan, resembling a needle piercing its center. Kurram, particularly Parachinar, abuts three Afghan provinces, Khost, Paktia and Nangarhar. Not coincidentally, these were also the most active and radicalised afghan areas fighting the soviet invasion, not in small part due to the fact that Kurram was the launching pad. Most of the hardened fighters in these three afghan provinces were Sunnis.
When attacks were launched from Kurram, the Soviet forces and their Afghan allies bombed Kurram Agency and Parachinar. Historically, since the Shia tribes were not aligned ideologically with this jihad, they suffered due to their geographical contiguity with Afghanistan, especially Parachinar. As a result of the continuing Saudi- Iranian proxy war and resultant radicalisation, there was an increase in clashes between the Shias and Sunni fighters in Afghanistan, as well as the Shia and Sunni tribes in Kurram.
The Parchinaris in particular were stuck between a rock and a hard place: on one hand, the Soviet troops fired on them, while on the other the Saudi-American-backed warriors from the Arab and non-Arab countries were targeting them. Ironically, this search for security drove the Shia population more firmly into the hands of the Iranian proxy war recruiters. Ziaul Haq’s plans to turn Kurram into a strategic launching pad for Afghanistan also did not sit well with the local Shia tribes. Shiite attacks from tribes, especially Turis, started against the caravans going to Afghanistan, which prompted retaliation from Sunni fighters. This ushered in a bitter cycle of strike and counter retaliation.
By July 1987 the escalation was at tits height; there were fierce Shia-Sunni clashes, with 52 Turi casualties and 120 from opposing groups. At least 14 villages were partially or completely destroyed. At this time, competing land claims also started arising in Kurram. When the Russians retreated from Afghanistan, they left behind hundreds of thousands of tonnes of weapons, adjacent to Kurram, and accessible to the tribes for pillaging and salvaging.
This Soviet retreat should have been another opportune moment for reintegration and assimilation of agencies into Pakistan, peacefully and strategically, with a view to promoting socio-economic progress and healing old wounds.
Sadly, nothing happened. In fact, things got worse.
Bad to worse
There were thousands of sectarian killings in Pakistan in the 1990s, prompting the government to legislate the Anti-Terrorism Act 1997. This law was brought in specifically with a view to curbing sectarian terrorism, the only major brand of terrorism we had at that time. There was no TTP, no Taliban, the BLA was not the entity it is today- what we did have were sectarian outfits, of many shapes and kinds. The trajectories of this phenomenon have been well documented, and are fairly well defined. What is not so well known however is the rise of sectarianism in neighbouring Afghanistan, which impacted neighbouring Kurram to a significant extent.
After 1992, the brutal civil war in Afghanistan created irreconcilable schisms within Islamic sects and ethnic groups, setting the stage for the contemporary intolerant Afghanistan. Ahmed Shah Masud’s massacre of the Hazaras in Kabul in 1995, the Hazaras' massacre of the Taliban in Mazar in 1997, and the Taliban massacres of Hazaras and Uzbeks in 1998 marked brutal ‘Islamocide’ perpetrated by Muslims in the name of their particular, indigenous breed of ideology. This was a novel phenomenon in Afghanistan’s history, creating the present religious divide. Minority groups all but fled the country since the ‘ethnocide’ committed above, coupled with the Taliban's anti-Shia programme, transformed the fiercely independent tribalism of the Afghanis into a militant sectarian landscape.
Meanwhile in Kurram, embers of sectarian tensions had been irrevocably sown. Incidents and provocations started emerging, which would escalate into bitter skirmishes. In 1996, someone wrote derogatory words about Shias on the blackboard in a Government High School in Parachinar, which was reported subsequently to the school headmaster and the assistant political agent.
On September 10, students from two schools had a fight over the same issue in which bullets were fired. The situation escalated, weapons were openly brandished and used by both sides. More than 200 people, including the school headmaster, were killed due to this incident alone. Such incidents have tended to recur sporadically since the 1990s, and continue till today.
This was the harbinger of sectarian wars in Pakistan, marked by Shia and Sunnis engaged in a non-ending cycle of violence against each other. Even till 2005, the TTP brand of terrorism that we as Pakistanis are now accustomed to had never been seen in Pakistan. Pakistan had sectarian terrorism, and Kurram was the primer for the detonation of this sectarian terrorism. Karachi and everything else came later.
Then, 9/11 came along and changed everything, again.
After the American invasion of Afghanistan, the Afghan Shia tribes joined forces with the US led Afghan government. In essence, they went against the Taliban, a posture that would come to haunt them later on. This also affected the sectarian posture of Shias in Kurram, who became targets of emerging Taliban groupings in the neighbouring agencies in Pakistan, especially from Orakzai.
Once again, the same story began.
Since the situation in Kurram was now complicated by proxy wars, tribes feuding over long standing land disputes, supply of modern weaponry on both sides, and young men trained with one or the other sectarian group at deadly loggerheads with some other, it was easy to provoke fights. These provocations have been from one side or the other, and have shattered the harmony of this area. They tend to occur during Muharram processions, in schools, and often erupt over land disputes.
For instance, in 2007 the Shias held a religious procession, which was reportedly met derogatory slogans. Nobody knows who fired first, but things escalated, with violence and riots spreading to areas in Chamkani, Trimangal, Bushehra and Balishkhel. Hundreds of houses and entire markets were burnt to ashes, with at least 40 people killed in Sada city. There was a barrage of rockets and mortars reported, which demonstrates heavy militarisation of the society. At one point, 10 missiles were fired into Kurram from Afghanistan. The Pakistani military had to step in with a full on assault using Cobra Gunship Helicopters and Artillery. A jirga called a ceasefire, which did not last long.
Only a few months later, riots broke out again in November 2007; almost 40 villages were destroyed and more than 3,000 people lost their homes. These riots continued for the next four years. This was also the time when the Tehreek e Taliban Pakistani, (TTP) was emerging. TTP joined the fray in Kurram in earnest. This is the time of conspiracy theories getting murkier; Shias in Kurram often state that it was the Sunni tribes that ‘invited’ the Taliban into the area. Hakimullah Mehsud’s TTP group had infiltrated lower Kurram at the height of TTP’s ascendancy in Pakistan, and it was said to be at the behest of some Sunni tribes, according to many Shias. This is notwithstanding the fact that it was mainly Sunni areas outside of Parachinar that were overrun by the TTP, an aspect many Kurram Sunnis mention as a rebuttal of the Shia perception. There can be no doubt that TTP inflicted massive casualties on both sides, Shia and Sunni.
Shia tribes managed to contain TTP to just outside Parachinar, despite heavy loss of life. TTP blockaded key routes leading into Parachinar, effectively cutting off the city from the rest of Pakistan. This siege led to severe shortages of essential goods and medical supplies, further exacerbating the humanitarian crisis in the region.
Nevertheless, Parachinar is one of the prominent tribal cities that was not overrun or even penetrated by the TTP, a fact in which the Shia in Kurram take great pride, citing this as their service in defence of homeland. However, this defence of Parachinar took an immense toll; hundreds were killed and thousands displaced. Despite the difficulties, TTP never really gained traction in Parachinar city, even though they had overrun parts of central and lower Kurram.
On the other hand, to fend off against an enemy like TTP, magnitude of militarisation of the Shia tribes needs to be considered. At this time Shias were rumoured to be getting support from Hezbollah and Mehdi militia, a proxy group set up by Iranians in Afghanistan. Later, the Zainabiyoun Brigade would arise, another Iranian proxy group formed mainly by Kurram Shias, ostensibly to defend the shrine of Hazrat Bibi Zaynab in Syria.
This escalating militarisation on both sides has further escalated the conflict, with both sides using mortars, light machine guns and sophisticated weapons. The standard AK-47 toting district police are no match for the sophisticated weapons that the tribes have; in essence, police are outgunned in the area, which is why the military has to step in to its aid police, often.
In 2007, TTP blockaded Thall-Parachinar road because this was the only access in and out of Parachinar, its lifeline and also the logistical route for Shia supporters to join compatriots in Parachinar. Many jirgas were called to open this blockade, the most important one in October 2008, held at Murree.
This is known as the Murree agreement, whereby the warring tribes decided to reopen Thall-Parachinar road, return the lands seized from each other, and allow return of internally displaced persons. However, the issue was not really resolved. In 2011, the Haqqani network mediated a peace between the tribes, based on the Murree agreement. This was shaken again by an attack on a convoy, in March 2011, when eight people were killed and fifteen kidnapped.
This pattern of road closure is therefore not new, but has been continuing for years, in almost the same pattern. There is a period of peace called through a Jirga, normalcy (of a sort) returns to the area symbolised by the Thall- Parachinar road being open. However, it is never totally safe going to and from Kurram; protection of convoys is provided by army and police, random incidents of firing on vehicles plying the road occur, few tribesmen are rounded up under preventive measures by the police. Sometimes, this results in an uneasy peace. Other times, Lashkarkashi occurs, with the tribes mobilising over what they perceive as one provocation or the other. Things escalate, people die, committees are formed to pacify them, jirgas are called for ushering in a tenuous peace, which prevails for a while, before some other incident occurs. Then, the whole pattern repeats itself.
Just a land dispute?
One constant provocation has been the land disputes in Kurram, which have been cropping up for 132 years. British occupied these areas after the Anglo-Afghan wars and redistributed land accordingly, with a large part of the population not accepting British decisions. Sunnis tend to say that the British gave more land to the Shia tribes with lesser population in the Kurram Agency, just to sow the seeds of discord, to ‘divide and rule.’ Simultaneously, Sunni tribes hold the grievance that they were given less land in relation to their larger population demographic. Then, there was much land whose fate was not decided at all.
This has resulted in an impasse; tribes that got less have tended to claim their traditional rights to more land, denying the British land settlement. Tribes that got more land maintain claim on it through the legal basis of British era redistribution, based on land records from that era. Then, the absence of land records, generally throughout the agencies, complicates these issues. The meagre land documentation that is available lies with the tribal heads, whose decisions are based on (perceived) collective welfare of the tribes, rather than purely on merit.
Bushehra is one such area where land feuds and sectarianism have intertwined, over generations. In 2023 for instance, a dispute started on 100 kanals of land, to whom the predominantly Shia Maleekhel tribe laid claim, contested by the Sunni Madgi Kalay tribe. The land feud escalated, in which at least 7 people were killed and 37 injured. Army and the F.C. were called in, an agreement was signed, and it was decided that the land revenue records would determine the ownership of the land. The ownership of the land would be transferred to the landowner, and all parties concerned would accept it.
When ownership was checked through government documents, it turned out to be of the Maleekhel tribe. This did not sit well with the tribes occupying the land, which refused to hand them over. Another agreement was reached in which the land was to be given to another tribe, a neutral third party as it were, on lease for a year.
The party would pay the Maleekhel tribe the lease amount for a year, and hand over the land after expiration of the lease. Instead, the Madgi Kalay intervened and took back the land. There were renewed clashes on both sides, whereby 49 people were killed and more than 200 injured. These land feuds have tended to involve tribes in villages including Boshehra, Maleekhel, Dandar, Pewar, Tari Mangal, Muqbal, Kunj Alizai, Nastikot, Para Chamkani, Karman, Khar Kalai, Sangina and Balishkhel.
Other major land disputes cause recurring flare-ups besides Bushehra are Balishkhel and Taida, inhabited by both Shia and Sunni tribes. Then there are the predominantly Shia rival villages like Pewar, which have long-standing disputes with predominantly Sunni areas like Gido . Similarly, the Sunni Ghoz Garhi and Shia Kunj Alizai have been disputing land for generations. As per official statements, there are no less than eight different ongoing land disputes in lower, central and upper areas of Kurram. As if land disputes were not enough, a water dispute exists between the Sunni Kharoti and Pewar villages, and a forest dispute between Shia Badama and the Sunni Parachamkani villages.
The provincial government did establish a Land Commission in 2021 for resolving the unmeasured land disputes of Gido, Pewar, Boshera, Dandar, and Ghoz Gari in Upper Kurram, and Balishkhel, Shurko and Sadda in lower Kurram. Reportedly, 500,000 kanals (62,500 acres) of 33 areas have been settled, their land settlement digitised, and report sent to the provincial government for implementation. UNDP Pakistan through its merged area governance development program has also implemented pilot projects for digitalisation, by geo-locating of fresh land measurements and reconciling them with existing land records. It remains to be seen if this will be enough. Whatever has actually been done by the government, on ground, is also debatable.
Regulatory quality of official interventions aside, the main hurdle will be making tribes accept new land settlements. All the technology in the world fails in front of recalcitrant attitudes, and these have been ingrained in the mindset of locals, through bitter generational feuds. It is quite easy for any party to refute the land records, simply stating they were allocated unfairly and arbitrarily in the first place, by the British. Then, the tribe members who have died protecting these lands from perceived aggressors carry a strong narrative; the perception is, why should their sacrifices go to waste? Since the tribe makes decisions collectively, the Jirga always comes into play. However, peace brought in by Jirgas have been flouted many times now, especially in land based feuds. This is an area where perceived affronts and insults are taken extremely seriously, where hate speech or remarks left on school blackboards can make blood flow like water. Tensions escalate at least a few notches more when land is concerned, which is considered to be collective livelihood of the tribe.
Land feuds are not just disputes about land- they are an expression of collective identity of the tribe concerned, which, in Kurram, is either Shia or Sunni. Thus, these are not just territorial disputes in nature, but are vented through the lens of sectarianism. It’s not just the tribe members involved in a dispute that will ‘lose face,’ but this also carries implications beyond the tribe, quickly becoming a sectarian issue. A tribe takes decisions collectively, and since tribes in Kurram carry strong sectarian identities, Shia or Sunni, any decision taken by a tribe is undertaken in regards to this collective sectarian identity. Actually, almost everything is about sectarian identity in this area, which is a legacy of decades, and is not going away anytime soon.
Summing up, Kurram poses an even more complicated scenario within NMDs than the troubled Waziristans. At least there have been successful deweaponisation campaigns in Waziristans, which is problematic in Kurram, given its state of weaponisation, spurred on in no small part through external powers. There is a prevalent perception amongst both sects in Kurram that they need to be prepared to repel impending attacks. Threats for other NMDs come from the terrorist infiltration by IS and TTP, which are also said to be establishing themselves around the Kurbanjani area in Kurram.
However, Kurram tribes are perhaps warier of each other than they are from the external enemy. This poses a unique challenge for Pakistan, because the land feuds and other issues are just triggers that tend to unleash the deeper underlying issue, a mistrust of other sects, born in fire and blood, fuelled by massive weaponisation. Solving the Kurram problem will involve a massive healing of hearts and minds, never before undertaken in these tribal areas.
Manzar Zaidi is a security consultant and academic
All facts and information are the sole responsibility of the author