Despite news of Osama bin Laden’s death, life in Kabul continued much as it did the day before.MASSOUD HOSSAINI/AFP / Getty Images
Despite news of Osama bin Laden's death, life in Kabul continued much as it did the day before. Women walked with their children to the market, casual labourers waited at street corners hoping for a day of work, cars lurched and weaved, and people went about their business.
Absent were any crowds gathering to listen to a radio or watch a TV, to discuss the events. There were no signs of rejoicing or relief. Not a single Afghan colleague or friend raised the topic with me throughout the day. At our office lunch - a scene recreated in almost every office across the city - my colleagues chatted about their families, and appointments to be kept.
The muted response to his death was quite incredible, given how entangled Osama bin Laden's history has been with Afghanistan's - the shelter provided to him and al-Qaeda by the Taliban, and the subsequent U.S.-led invasion of the country for that reason.
The scene in Kabul provided a stark contrast to the triumphant chants of "USA!" taking place outside the White House.
The war in Afghanistan, after the initial capture of Kabul and Kandahar back in 2001, has been defined for Westerners by obscure Afghan politics and battles waged in unknown villages and provinces that most of us have not kept track of. The tactical outcomes of these battles have been little cared about, then forgotten, and the strategic value of any such wins (or were they losses?) are contested among even those who follow this war.
It has simply been a bleak landscape of never-ending, aimless war, with news of a NATO soldier's death blipping across our screen every other day or so for the past 10 years.
While the al-Qaeda leader's death gives Americans and their allies a rare milestone to celebrate in the war on terror, it matters little for ordinary Afghans except in how it will affect American policy toward them. And for Afghans long accustomed to the grind of war and intrigue played out by outsiders in their land, they rightly recognize that the effect of Mr. bin Laden's death on American policy will be limited.
While it's difficult to gauge the precise strength of al-Qaeda in Afghanistan, General David Petraeus, the outgoing U.S. and NATO commander, recently put their numbers at "less than 100 or so" operatives. NATO also reported their forces had killed about 25 al-Qaeda operatives last month, including its No. 2 in Afghanistan.
What these numbers mean for the current strength of al-Qaeda in Afghanistan isn't clear. But, aside from al-Qaeda's apparently declining star in Afghanistan, the American fight goes on against the Taliban - a fight that has spread from the south of the country to the east along the border with Pakistan and in provinces that can be reached within an hour's drive of Kabul.
There's also little psychological relief to be had since many Afghans are tired of the long American occupation. As the U.S. presence continues, security in many places in the country deteriorates and America's victories are no longer Afghans' victories. As evidenced by last month's deadly attack on a United Nations compound in Mazar-e-Sharif, frustrations aimed at foreigners are not far below the surface.
Osama bin Laden's death means very little in practical terms for Afghans. They took the news stoically and realistically: Bin Laden is dead. So what?
Sarah Han, a Canadian lawyer, lives and works in Kabul.