The day after the Taliban (“strictly religious men who use a lot of violence”) took power in Kabul, it went NOS Youth news visiting with twelve-year-old Sorood. It produced an unforgettable image. Sorood telephoned her uncle who is not sure of his life in Afghanistan because he has worked for the government. Her aunt, in tears, sat next to her on the couch. To the side, Sorod’s ailing grandmother lay back in a chair, propped up by cushions, listening to her son’s distant voice. She couldn’t lift herself up for it anymore.
Sorood, whose parents had fled to the Netherlands from the Taliban, explained to her peers how afraid her uncle and others were of the Taliban’s misbehavior: “This is bad and sad news.” She still had some hope “that Europe will come to help us”. The situation was clearly explained around the conversation with the girl, including the nasty images of people gripping a plane taking off in panic. Former correspondent Nathalie Righton explained what girls’ everyday lives and futures were at stake: “Going to school, doing something fun with your hair, finding a job as a vet, for example.”
what it youth news was not treated, was the relationship of the Netherlands with Afghans who are in danger because they have worked for the Dutch military. Ron Fresen predicted in the adult news that the Dutch policy for these people would be “hard on paper, more generous in practice”. He based this on a formulation by Prime Minister Rutte in which, in addition to interpreters and embassy staff, there was ‘others who deserve our protection’. Dutch humanity fits into a subordinate clause.
That contrasted quite a bit with an overview that news hour brought about the intentions of the British, Americans, Canadians and Germans – but it contrasted particularly sharply with the stories that a little later at the table Bee Humberto were told. There was the lawyer of ten security guards who, according to him, were not allowed to come to the Netherlands for the time being, despite legally valid contracts. Frits Wester explained that there was no enthusiasm at the ministry to do anything for “people who worked in the kitchen and once peeled a few potatoes”. It was not clear whether that disrespectful imagery had leaked from the ministry or from Wester’s brain.
Student Weis Matheen told, also at Humberto, that he had tried in vain to get his wife to the Netherlands last week in Kabul. Foreign Affairs keeps the door closed for this wife of a Dutch citizen. She no longer dares to go out on the street.
Bee On 1 did Seweta Zirak have a similar story and told Nathalie Righton how she had been called in the middle of the night by interpreters and their family. “The sense of betrayal is very great.” The policy was unpalatable and the inertia was life-threatening, she explained. “Suppose you get permission to leave in a few days. How do you get to the airport then? How do you get past a checkpoint safely as a woman?”
Op1 Jeroen Pauw had also asked. Not as a presenter but as a guest, because twelve years ago he had made a program in Uruzgan and had picked up a nice cliché there: “You have the clock, but we have the time.” Pauw did ask a few sharp questions to former Defense Minister Eimert van Middelkoop (ChristenUnie), who struggled to defend himself. But at least he sat there, while the Prime Minister and the Foreign Minister were somewhere in the shadows shaping their old and new leadership.