Elizabeth C. Reilly

The early Hindu astrologers used a magnet—an iron fish compass that floated in a vessel of oil and pointed to the North. The Sanskrit word for the mariner's compass is Maccha Yantra, or fish machine. It provides direction, and, metaphorically, illumination and enlightenment. These essays began in 2006 in India. Since then, my work has expanded to Mexico, China, the European Union, and Afghanistan. Join me on a journey throughout this flat world, where Maccha Yantra will help guide our path.

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Location: Malibu, California, United States

Saturday, February 23, 2008

The Road to Kabul

Ka·bul (kä'bʊl, kə-būl')

Often called “a land of rugged beauty,” Afghanistan is a landlocked nation that shares its boundaries with the Central Asian, former Soviet states of Turkmenistan, Tajikistan, and Uzbekistan on its northern border; Pakistan is to the south and east; a tiny finger of the country extends into China in the northeast; and Iran is to the west. The central and eastern parts of the country are dominated by the Hindu Kush mountain range, and its topography also includes plateaus, deserts, and rolling grasslands. Because of its strategic location, its geography is wholly relevant to its history, which has been punctuated with invasions for thousands of years.



Kabul is a city of about 2.8 million people and is the capital of Afghanistan. Located on the Kabul River in a valley between mountain passes of the Hindu Kush mountain range, it has existed for approximately 3,500 years. In the 16th century, it became the capital of the Mughal Dynasty until 1738, when it was captured by the Iranian conqueror, Nadir Shah. Kabul has been the capital of Afghanistan since 1776.

When the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan in 1979, it established a military command in Kabul. After the Soviet withdrawal in 1989, factional fighting among Afghan guerrillas continued intermittently and the city suffered widespread destruction. In 1996 the Taliban captured Kabul and imposed a strict form of Islamic rule, where it became illegal for women to work, for any female to attend school, and even for any individual to fly a kite—a favorite Afghan hobby. The city began a path of reconstruction following the years of violence only when the Taliban government was overthrown in 2001 following the United States and its Coalition’s invasion. The Taliban and other oppositional forces still challenge the path to reconstruction and some provinces, such as Kandahar in the south, remain extremely dangerous.


My road to Kabul began last summer whilst in China with 30 of my doctoral students when an email from the USA made it through the Chinese censors. One of our doctoral students whom I had not yet met had heard about my international research and asked if I would meet with him to talk about his dissertation topic in which he planned to examine higher education in Afghanistan. I already had two students who were examining higher education in Thailand, Mexico, and Argentina, so his proposal interested me from that perspective, but also from the perspective of the present circumstances that Afghanistan faces. When we met in July on my return, I became very engaged with the entire concept and thus it came to pass that I suggested to Mirwais Azizi, who was born in Afghanistan and fled during the Soviet invasion, that I accompany him to Kabul when he would be going. Not Cabo; Kabul.

These last few months have been quite an odyssey for us both, for I suggested that I write a companion study that examines women in educational leadership and that I, too, conduct research whilst in country. The Consul General, Mr. Atiquillah Atifmal, in Los Angeles has not only provided us with a formal invitation from the national government, but has given us his personal assistance in setting up the interviews with various dignitaries. We have had to field countless questions and obstacles ranging from gaining the university's approval to conduct research in a US State Department No-Visit country to the studies' impact on participants to the complexity of financing the trip, but we have been indefatigable, seeking at every turn to overcome all roadblocks to Kabul. Just about all that is left is for me to pack up my pashmina scarves, which shall serve as hijab on the professor’s head during the adventure. I fly out on March 10, and meet Mirwais in Dubai on March 14.

I have been fascinated with people's reactions to this adventure. My youngest children are having cows enough to populate a herd. They are too young to understand what it means that I was living in the Soviet Union during its collapse whilst conducting my doctoral research and that their big sister, Anna, was with me during that time. The Soviet Union appeared on the US State Department’s “No Visit” list, just as Afghanistan does today. I have a series of amazing photos of tanks in Red Square when it was not "May Day." About Afghanistan, one friend wrote to me, "I really do not want to ever go to Kabul. I have made some public statements about this administration and, given the position of both the White House and the Justice Department over the last few years, I fear that I might be identified as an enemy combatant and end up in Cuba." I believe he meant Guantanamo. My brother wants to come along, as he sees Afghanistan "on the horizon" of huge business opportunities. My mentor, Linda Lambert, was thrilled beyond belief, for she has spent a number of years working in Egypt. One executive that I work with who is Chairman of the Board of a multinational based in New Zealand became infuriated with me that I would even consider going and has not spoken to me for several weeks. Another was so bowled over with the initiative, that he gave me the flight, business class, from LAX to Dubai and back home again. And so far, fully eight people have stepped forward and sent donations to help us with expenses. Afghanistan seems immediately to draw amongst people a line in its northwestern desert sands.


I just intend to help out fellow educators build an infrastructure that would permit people to get an education. I do, however, realize this is on many levels highly revolutionary. I really get it. Frequently, I call my way in the world “the iron hand in the velvet glove.” My only weapon is this subtle way of getting under people’s skin through building relationships, one person at a time. I understand how education gives people possibilities, which means power, and that this undermines the tenets of Taliban-style power, the vestiges of which not only still affect Afghanistan, but serve as a metaphor for any culture that perpetuates oppression. Else, why would they target children walking to high school or ministers of education implementing an educational strategic plan and blow them up?

Who is this professor who travels the world, seeking to build bridges? My family and friends frequently wonder just what it is I do for a living. What is it to live the life of the mind? Do I truly have an Ivory Tower? Do they really pay me to read books, travel the globe, write and publish, and share pearls of wisdom with others? "Sail your sea/meet your storm/all I want is to be your harbor/the light in me/will guide you home/all I want is to be your harbor." This song captures who I am to countless people in my life, as I have the privilege to create for people a safe place from which to launch. I learnt years ago that my small gift is to help others find theirs. People find me inspiring because I see in them possibilities. Further, I understand how to inspire beyond mere words so that real and amazing things happen in the lives of others. I have a futurist orientation & easily imagine new ways of being and frequently find myself at just the right place to realize them. The work that I do as a professor permits me to help others to soar in all ways.


One of my heroes, Albert Einstein, said, "There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." I believe there is significance in the most seemingly inconsequential moment or action. We can recognize that in each moment there lies a prayer, a blessing, a commandment, an opportunity to make a difference. Each breath of our lives is imbued with meaning. It is up to us to seek that meaning and to seize upon the moment to thank God. The degree to which we see the moments of our lives and those within it as a miracle is the degree to which we can live more fully. I am very thankful for the miracles in my life and I am blessed to be a teacher, first and last.

To be a teacher, however, I must be a learner. This work in Afghanistan depends upon this. So it shall be that Mirwais and I journey across many time zones and many nations and travel the road to Kabul. I hope that you shall join us on this very special journey.

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