Kabul Faces its Fears Amid Election Uncertainty

"White City" is the United Nations security-status term which denotes the restriction of staff to essential movement. Three days after last weeks deadly Taliban attack on a U.N. guesthouse in central Kabul, "White City" remained in effect. And while some U.N. staff were ignoring the restriction, many veterans were unnerved, locked down in guesthouses across the city. "We all, falsely, assumed that we were immune from it," said one U.N. official, speaking on condition of anonymity. "No one knows what to expect, all bets are off. I think it is going to cause a lot of people to reassess their position here."

In their small orbit of bars, offices and guesthouses around Kabul, Afghanistans expatriate community appeared to be doing exactly that this week, following an assault whose complexity and focus could reflect a new security reality. The Bakhtar guesthouse, where the attack took place, is located between two of Kabuls most expensive neighborhoods, Sherpur and Shar-e-Now. The tower headquarters of Etisalat, the countrys major telecommunications company, is just down the street. One block over is the large Kabul home of Gul Aga Sherzai, governor of Nangarhar Province, whose brother-in-law died in the violence. Nearby, houses of internationals run generators and serve one another dinners of salmon freshly flown in. If militants could storm houses in this enclave, some reasoned, nowhere was safe.

"Im less than comfortable, to be frank, and Ive been around here a while," said Keith Anderson, a U.S. military veteran now serving as a technical representative for Hesco Military Products. "Im not hiding under my bed," he continued, "and there are some people out there going , 'Well, were not U.N. — but those guest houses are really intermingled. Its not just the U.N. It goes from concerning to scary."

Although Anderson's concerns are widely shared, many analysts were unsurprised at the brazen nature of the raid, especially given Taliban warnings in the days before. As usual, the violence had a complicated context. "Of course, the Taliban are making problems for the election," explained Nasrullah Stanikzay, a lecturer at Faculty of Law and Political Science, Kabul University. "The last round showed [the government] did not have the capacity to deal with the problems."

Stanikzays lack of confidence in the Afghan Government's security capacity is shared among foreigners in Kabul, and the expatriate community already takes for granted that it must provide its own protection in the form of high walls, razor wire, bulletproof cars, and squads of armed guards. The Serena, Kabuls five star hotel and a hub of international life, is one of the citys most guarded institutions. Expatriates walk through its iron gates all day to have meetings, drink milk shakes, and run on the gyms treadmills. Though rockets shattered glass in the hotels lobby on the morning of the Bakhtar attack, that evening, there were still some Americans there, getting in their miles. Standing in the parking lot outside the gym, Anwar Bezhan, head of the hotel security team, shrugged off the mornings events. "There are always attacks," he said, adding, without irony, that "security is very good here."

The hotel's guests don't share the security chief's illusions, having not forgotten that the Serena was attacked by the Taliban in January 2008. Still, the Bakhtra attack appears not to have changed the plans of those with long experience or serious commitments to the country. Shoshana Coburn, managing director of Turquoise Mountain, a prominent NGO working to restore Kabuls old city, attended a meeting of her peers following the attack. "The consensus from most was that this must be taken very seriously," she reported, "but while there is reason to reinforce our security measures and remain very vigilant, we should in no way panic and should not be evacuating any of our staff because of it."

On the Friday following the Bakhtar incident, Kabuls preeminent expatriate bar, Latmosphere, was quieter than usual. Across the country, "White City" continued, and the expatriate mourned its losses. Still, every stool at the bar was taken, and no one was panicking. Patrons ordered the special — fish n chips — and made plans for the week ahead.

They also speculated on how much longer White City would remain in effect, and in these discussions, a newcomer could learn something surprising. "White City" has more than one meaning among foreigners in Kabul. It is not only a security term, but also the name of the most famous — perhaps only — expatriate rock band in the country. According to regulars at Latmosphere, the band, which has been playing for over three years, is still around, and has no plans to break up.