COMMENTARY
Voice in a crowd echoes in Afghan Constitution

By Susan Kreifels

The crowded bazaar in the small town near Kandahar looked like a sea of Afghan women covered in the same blue-and-white cloth. I shuffled through the crowd, trying to be inconspicuous, but even though I wore a scarf, I clearly stood out as a foreigner.

And then I heard a young woman's voice: "Help me, sister."

I stopped abruptly, turning a complete circle. "Where are you?" I shouted. But the voice, one that had sounded sincere and troubled, was lost in the wave of blue and white.

That was in 1975 in a different Afghanistan than the world knows today — one that had not yet been invaded by Soviets or ruled by the Taliban, before the United States fought terrorists there. To a young Nebraskan on her first trip through Asia, Afghanistan was a ruggedly beautiful, fiercely proud and fascinating country.

But then Afghanistan became a battleground of global politics, and as the world learned more about the plight of women there, the call of the young woman in the market echoed through my mind many times.

That's why the passage of Afghanistan's new constitution grabbed my attention. The constitution recognizes women as equal citizens and sets aside 25 percent of seats in the lower house of parliament for them. U.S. officials praised the constitution, while analysts pointed out flaws and listed many obstacles to implementing it. While there will likely be challenges in enforcing equal citizenship for women, the fact that the provision is included is a heartening and hopeful start.

I was lucky to travel across Asia in 1975 — going "overland," as they said in Australia, where I had been teaching. Travelers could pass freely through Iran, Kashmir, Afghanistan — places that became increasingly difficult, if not impossible, for tourists to visit later in the century.

For us lucky ones who crossed Asia then, Afghanistan was an awesome place. As I traveled across its vast desert, I freely mingled with nomadic tribes. In small towns I watched ferocious-looking men gallop past me, whips in their mouths.

I later became a journalist based in Asia, and although I wanted to return to Afghanistan, I never did. My friend, a Reuters reporter, went there in the late 1980s, and we talked for hours when she returned about the tragic circumstances of Afghan women.

Now, with a constitution finally hammered out, despite the problems that lie ahead, Afghanistan has a road map toward a new start.

"There is rain coming, and flowers are growing from my body," said the chairman of the grand council, Sebaghatullah Mojadeddi, who was quoted by the New York Times reciting a poem after the passage of the constitution. "I am so happy the ending is so pious and beautiful."

Maybe he was one of the men I saw galloping through the streets in 1975.

And I can only hope that one of the voices calling out her vote in parliament will be the same voice that called out to a foreigner in a crowded bazaar long ago.

Susan Kreifels was a journalist based in Asia who now works with media services at the East-West Center.