Circle Around the Sun

by M. D. Johnson

  “Two daughters, no sons. That’s why he wants Mason. Emily, listen to me, this is not the West. You have no rights here, you don’t exist. No woman does. They fight wars here on horseback in mountains with daggers. You’re not on an archeological dig or researching a book here. This is not Cairo and it is not civilization at its best. Leave this place. Your parents are begging you to cut your holiday short and return to Europe before trouble breaks out.”

  “My parents? How did they get involved in this?”

  “You father is a trader, like our ancestors. He trades information as do I, and perhaps as you also do. He was warned. He contacted me. There is no more to tell. Go home in a few days. I mean, you don’t have to be rude but make this trip short for your children’s safety.”

  CHAPTER NINETY-SIX

  The following evening the Ansaris held a surprise dinner at their home. Emily was startled at the segregation of men and women. All her life she had been used to sitting with her father at dinner with her mother either facing them or on her other side, and she was offended by the division of the guests. The Ansaris had set many large platters of food and fruit on the low tables flanked by pillows, cushions and low couches. At one end of the room the men congregated and almost directly beneath them, at a lower level but still visible sat the women. The women commenced their food after their men folk and did not speak among each other unless spoken to by an elder, in this case Humera Ansari, who headed the women’s table. Emily was surprised and delighted to see Atiya, who had lived with her a few years previously in Germany. The young doctor was now married to the young man named Hasim Shah who had been on the staff of the Afghani Embassy in Paris with Masud Ansari.

  “Atiya, it is so good to see you. Are you alright?” Emily was so happy to see the woman who had been almost part of her family in Heidelberg. But instead of responding, she smiled graciously, lowered her eyes and continued to eat. Aunt Yacouta, who was seated next to Emily whispered, ”Don’t pursue this. Let it go.”

  “Let it go! I’m being ignored. What do you mean let it go? This is insulting. Can women not speak in this house?”

  “Emily! Wait until later. Don’t make a scene,” Her aunt chided.

  The men stopped speaking. All eyes were on her. She felt her face redden and suddenly she heard a voice. The voice of a child speaking in Arabic, not Dari or Pashto as was custom in the household. “Mother,” her son began, “you cannot speak now. My Mother,” he went on in Dari, addressing his grandfather and his guests, “does not know. Please do not be angry with her, my father.”

  “Please sit down, Amina, and be quiet,” her aunt hushed.

  “The hell I will!” she hissed. “Thank you, Mason, but I can speak for myself!”

  “My daughter,” Humera, who was beside her quietly intervened, in even lower hushed tones, “Do not take offense, but this is not Rome or Paris, this is Herat and we do things differently here. It is not meant to dishonor you but it is a sign of respect to our tradition and to the elders here, for women to listen and learn and not contribute meaninglessly. Eat now and be calm, we will speak later.”

  “Yes, Mother Humera, we certainly will!”

  Atiya had watched the entire scene and Emily noticed that she was softly whispering to Haley. Emily was furious. Atiya had said nothing remotely personal or friendly towards her. It was as though they had just this evening been introduced. She did not notice the other eyes on the young woman and child set by now in a fixed stare.

  As soon as the dinner conversation, which was interspersed with abrupt silences and glares at Emily from the other guests finally came to a close, the men separated themselves further, leaving for another room at the rear of the house. The women walked in the rose garden which was sheltered from the outside world by high stone walls. As Emily walked with Aunt Jack, she was aware of hurried footsteps behind her.

  “Emily, please wait!” It was Atiya. “Do not be angry with me, but I must be careful.”

  “What do you mean you must be careful? We are old friends. Who could possibly have something against that?”

  “Emily, there is much I have to tell you, but since my marriage I have been unable to write to you, or even to telephone. My husband is very strict with his wives and I am his second. But because I am younger and prettier than his first wife, I accompany him on formal occasions, not her. I have so much to tell you, but I am forbidden to talk with you in public, because of your reputation in this village.”

  “My reputation?”

  “You are a divorced woman. While this is permissible it is seldom accomplished without shame.”

  “I am a widow!”

  “We have heard through the underground that Ghulam lives. Everyone in the village knows this. My husband has tried to contact him. My husband is a powerful man here.”

  “I thought he worked for Ansari.”

  “Emily, Ansari’s time is up here. He has become, how do you call it, obsolete. He wants no part of the anti-Daud movement. The militants here are angry that Daud-Khan has sold out to the Russians. And the Ansaris are known supporters of Daud. It is dangerous for them. They are alive only because of the militant’s loyalty to their son and his compatriots. These are dangerous times. As a woman physician, I can now only practice medicine on women. As women, we have our own ways of surviving. Our communication, even underground between each other is good. The women have no fear of the Russians because they are of course very sympathetic to our plight. So at least we are getting an education of sorts. For those of us who have left Afghanistan and returned, the treatment of women is like a knife to our hearts. For the Russians, if women are treated equally they will make good party members. That is their primary concern. Women are losing ground here. We are losing our rights daily. Perhaps it is subtle at present but nonetheless women are treated worse than livestock in the remote villages and this philosophy is spreading to the middle class cities too.”

  “But Atiya, why don’t you leave?” asked Aunt Jack

  “Madame D’Aboville, I have nowhere to go. My family won’t support me and I cannot go to them because it would dishonor them if I left my husband. He is not a wicked man, just a strict one who believes that a woman should be protected from the outside world.”

  “Protected! How? Interrupted Emily now becoming angrier by the second “By keeping you locked away where no one can see you but him, and to have no friends at all?”

  “My duty, Emily, is to my husband and his family. There is nothing else. This is Afghanistan, not Europe or America. As a junior wife, I have a role too. It is not so bad.”

  “But I can help you leave. I’ll pay your fare, give you what you need to start again. Leave with me!”

  “I have no passport! I can go nowhere without my husband and besides, I have work to do with the women and children here. I cannot leave them!”

  “Atiya, listen to me. I am leaving here within the week. I am going back to Heidelberg to clear up my affairs and my aunt and the children are going on to England. If you can get a passport or buy one on the black-market, do so and we will pay for it. If you are unhappy and you wish to leave with me, I’ll get you out. If not now, get to Heidelberg and to my apartment when you can. You can stay there for as long as you want.”

  “Atiya, come quickly!” Humera Ansari was almost running towards them, “Hasim Shah is looking for his wife!” she said quickly to Emily and grabbing the arm of Atiya in panic, she said in her high pitched voice, “and you must not be seen alone with my daughter-in-law. Come with me right now. Emily I will take her to the orange grove and we will walk together. Come and find me in about ten minutes.”

  “Aunt Jack, this place is driving me insane. I must get out of here, you are absolutely right. But if Ghulam is alive, then we are at risk wherever we go. I do not believe he is alive and I must find out. He was last seen in Beirut by the Red Cross. I must contact Tony Shallal. He can put me in touch with Mustapha Jalil. Jalil is the person who contacted the Ansaris. He might have made the who
le thing up. It could still all be a rumor. There must be records kept by the Red Cross. Surely, if Ghulam is alive he must have had treatment and been released. If he is dead then his body must be buried somewhere, if the Red Cross saw him as a prisoner.”

  “Why Tony Shallal?”

  “Because, Aunt Jack, he can get into places where I cannot go and he owes me!”

  “Shouldn’t you let Harrison know what you’re trying to do?”

  “Yes, but I won’t because he’ll raise hell. So I’ll say that I’m going with you on tour to Lebanon with the children, except you’ll be in Heidelberg at the apartment until I return, then you’ll go to England. In the meantime I must say a few things to the Ansaris.”

  CHAPTER NINETY-SEVEN

  The Ansaris were out with the children for most of the following day and Emily did not see them until the early evening. She cleared the air and told her former in-laws that she was horrified at the segregation of women and men in their home the night before and that she could no longer stay there in clear conscience if she was expected to speak only when spoken to and be on the outside of everything by virtue of her gender. Her father-in-law, a polite and gentle man, told her in no uncertain terms that this was not Europe and that she was expected to comply with the same standards as every other woman as long as she was his guest. It was not personal, he added, simply expected. This was the standard of behavior and she must comply. For a woman in any Muslim country, this was a simple fact of life.

  His response raised Emily’s ire. She retained her composure but nonetheless responded, “I do not wish my son to grow up convinced of his own male superiority and that we, as women are less then he is.”

  “I understand,” Ansari replied, genuinely stunned at her attitude, “But he cannot live as a Muslim here in Afghanistan and not be expected to adapt our customs. Furthermore Emily, it is not that we believe we are superior to anyone. We simply must protect our women and our families from those who do not understand our ways.” His response only increased her exasperation.

  Her son entered the room and walked over to his grandfather, stood beside him and placed his arm around the older man. “Why do you fight with him?” the child asked Emily.

  “Because I can,” she said, losing patience, “And, young man, this is a discussion not a fight.”

  “But you are being rude, Mother,” Mason said, boldly staring her down.

  “And you are being impertinent. Leave the room at once!” his mother shouted angrily.

  “May I stay, grandfather?” He asked the older man calmly.

  “Indeed you may, my child,” his grandfather replied, smoothing the child’s curls softly.

  “Do as I say, Mason, and do it now!” Emily raised her voice and moved quickly toward the tableaux the two had formed.

  “No! Grandfather said I could stay and I will,” he smiled slyly in defiance.

  Within seconds she picked him up and had him over her knee, spanking him hard on the behind. “You will never, as long as you are a child, defy me. I am your mother! And if you chose to defy me as an adult you will not live in my house. Is that clear?” She gathered the screaming child up in her arms and marched out of the room.

  Mason’s screaming subsided within ten minutes or so, his dignity suffering considerably more than his backside. He hid himself under his teddy bear, coughing and spluttering his momentary hatred for his mother.

  “You don’t mean that and you know I love you. But you did bring this on yourself,” she said gently, smoothing her son’s damp unruly locks and drying his eyes as she lifted him up on her lap. “Mason, you must understand that while we are here my rules still apply, even if the way people live her is different to what we are used to at home. I am your Mummy, and I’m the boss until you are big enough to make your own decisions. I will never ask you to do anything that will hurt you or give your anything that will hurt you because I love you. But if I ask you to do something, as long as you’re still a little person you must remember that Mummy knows more than you do and wouldn’t ask you to do something wrong. You must follow my directions, without question. You do understand that don’t you?”

  “But if I don’t want to?”

  “I will explain why, as I did this time and it will be done,” she reiterated

  “But I wanted to stay.”

  “Mason, one last time. I asked you to leave for good reason. You should have done so and you were punished because you did not. Your decision to go over my head to your grandfather was the wrong one to make. You were spanked for disobeying me.”

  “But Mummy, if you don’t want to do what grandfather says, why are you angry when I don’t do what you say?”

  “Because, my child, I am the mother and you are not! People act differently in this country and I prefer the way we behave at home. We’ll be leaving in a few days and going to see your other grandparents. Life will be normal again soon.” She kissed her son on the forehead and seeing him close his eyes, waited with him for a few minutes until he was asleep.

  CHAPTER NINETY-EIGHT

  Emily faced the Ansari family, who were waiting for her in the living area.

  “Father and Mother Ansari. I am sorry that I have distressed you both. Obviously I cannot continue to stay here and be in such opposition to your culture. I care for you both and I am grateful that you asked me to stay here. However, my son will not be brought up in Afghanistan and such an influence on him and my daughter will do nothing but add to problems they already have. You are aware that the culture in which we live enables women to be, at least on the surface, independent. We are not inferior nor are we treated as such. I cannot let my son be so influenced. So I will leave as soon as I can get a flight to Frankfurt. No doubt my aunt will be joining me. I am truly sorry if my behavior has upset you, but this is who I am and I thought with your background and government postings you would understand this. It is not personal, Father Ansari,” she added, using his own logic somewhat maliciously, “It is simply a condition of my upbringing.”

  There was nothing further left to say and no amount of condescending rhetoric could repair the strain now existing in their relationship. Emily left the room, by now feeling utterly miserable and went directly to Aunt Jack’s quarters where she found her aunt already packing.

  “Well, that was bloody marvelous, my darling. You’ve put diplomatic relations back a thousand years,” her aunt said, putting her arm around her.

  “Oh Christ, Aunt Jack, what was I supposed to do, surrender my son to them and their ways? Not on your life. He has to live with me, not them and that is not what I want. His father was bad enough. I do not want to create another monster. But yes, I feel awful. They’re such nice people. Good grief, Aunt Jack, what a position to be in. The women are like bloody sheep. Even Atiya.”

  “Emily, please listen to me. It is appropriate in this country for women to take a back seat, as you say. This is a dangerous place, as the Russians will soon find out. Women seldom rebel here. There’s no feminist revolution in this country. You can die for that. But at the same time, woman don’t get raped or mugged here. One is safe from outsiders but not from one’s family. This is an ancient culture but it is not and never has been a democracy! Perhaps it is just as well you should leave anyway. They have seen Masud, that is why they invited you, but I believe as you do that if you stay he will become more out of your control. Which, long term will make it easier for Ghulam.”

  “Aunt Jack, I do not believe Ghulam is alive and I am going to Lebanon to view for myself where he was last seen.”

  “Your choice my dear. But you have heard this now from several sources. Pay attention.”

  CHAPTER NINETY-NINE

  Within two days Emily left Herat and was on her way to Beirut. Aunt Jack had taken the children to England, while Tony Shallal had been contacted and given the latest information. The British Intelligence Service, more dependent on Human Intelligence than any international agency save Mossad had taken her information very seriously.
If money was flowing to the Muslim Brotherhood from western nations with high Islamic populations, then everyone as at risk. The problem was to determine which had the greatest risk factor, to feed into the Islamic furor and hope that the Russians would get in the way, ultimately losing the battle, or to actively back the Islamics and take the chance that if they united they could become a bigger nuisance than the communists. A little research may not be a bad idea, Tony Shallal was told, and then he was shipped out to Beirut.

  As Emily left Afghanistan an unsuccessful attempt was underway to overthrow the Daud-Khan government. The leader of the Muslim centered revolt was executed and eleven of his followers were captured and imprisoned, some said without a trial. In Takhar province where the Muslim Brotherhood was gaining in influence and where Ghulam Ansari had just delivered monies to be used for weapons, the Daud-Khan regime regained control by arresting and holding up to public ridicule, the governor of the province, the revenue commissioner and the superintendent of police. The Soviet Union supported Daud-Khan’s attempt at aborting any revolutionary activity by providing strong financial backing and Soviet weaponry. The terms for this Afghan initiative were secured by the conditions of future sale of Afghan natural gas, which did not impress The Republic of China. Within six months, relations with neighboring Pakistan would be splintered as insurgents rose up in defiance of Pakistani control around the northwest frontier and Baluchistan. The Pakistani Government was little short of ruthless in stifling revolution, which resulted in the Daud-Khan government filing a protest and unsuccessfully attempting to enlist the support of other world powers. Afghanistan, as history would soon bear out, was on the brink of social and economic extinction and would thus remain a battered war-torn country for the next thirty years. It would take that long a time for Emily to allow what she considered the most miserable place on Earth to venture into her thoughts again.