Canada

I went to dinner last night at the Canadian embassy.  They have a very pretty residence with a beautiful yard on a fairly quiet street.  The Canadians also have a PRT in Kandahar, one of the more militarily active provinces, in southern Afghanistan bordering Pakistan near Quetta, the presumed current home of Mullah Omar.  And a man who had worked at that PRT last year told us a horrendous story.  The insurgents frequently target local officials, police chiefs, tribal elders, security guards, etc, people who hold some sway in the village or whose death sends a very pointed political message.  When these people are assassinated, most people in the village understand:  You don't have to kill everybody - just make sure that everybody knows they could be killed.  Generally, when the insurgents assassinate someone, it's someone of some local stature.  Well, on the Canadian PRT, numerous Afghans worked.  Among them was one whose "stature" from an assassination-worthiness point of view was minimal to non-existent: a very elderly grandfather, if not great-grandfather, probably at least 65 (this in a country where the life expectancy is 44), whose sole job was to refill the water stations.  All day long, and in Kandahar the days are long and very hot, he lugged water bottles from building to building, and then went home to his very, very modest rural mud house.  One day last year, perhaps frustrated that they couldn't penetrate the PRT itself, the insurgents waited until the old man headed for home, waylaid him on the road, murdered him and left the body in the ditch.