MUST-READ OF THE WEEK: THE LEOPARD’S DAUGHTER: A PUKHTUN STORY

New romantic thriller The Leopard’s Daughter: A Pukhtun Story by David Raeburn Finn is an engrossing and insightful novel set during the War in Afghanistan and which lays bare the horrors of military conflict.  

It has only been a matter of months since the War in Afghanistan, the US-led occupation which spanned two decades, finally came to a close. 

It is best to leave it to future historians to determine the success or otherwise of this prolonged military intervention but whatever the final verdict one thing is clear: the war caused untold harm to the country and its, largely, peace-loving people. 

I say “untold” because, as is always the case, the ‘official’ figures on the number of civilian casualties is, to say the least, highly questionable.  

An independent analysis conducted by US-based pacifist and social justice organisation Code Pink estimated that it resulted in the deaths of more than one million Afghan and Pakistan citizens. This is in stark contrast to the US’s own estimate of fewer than 40,000 casualties. 

However many people died, the vast majority were innocent Pashtuns as opposed to bloodthirsty West-hating Islamic fundamentalists and this is something that Canadian author David Raeburn Finn had firmly in his mind when penning moving new novel The Leopard’s Daughter: A Pukhtun Story.  

It follows the story of Mohammed, a skilled but politically naïve Denver surgeon of Pashtun descent who, during the War in Afghanistan, joins US Special Forces as a frontline medic at a secret base in Kunar, Afghanistan.  

There, in a story of charged racial politics and clashing cultures, Mohammed can’t but help get drawn deeper into his roots. 

At first, he prays and converses with Afghan civilians, whom he finds to be both spirited and generous despite their hardships. 

Soon, however, he finds himself having no option but to physically defend them—not from Taliban troops but from his follow US soldiers, who have a sickening bloodlust fuelled by xenophobia and a gross disrespect for the rules of war.  

Little does he know, however, that his Muslim faith and background already have him marked on a secret CIA watch list dubbed ‘OWL’ (Others Watch List).  

After surviving a cross-border ambush that was specifically targeting him, thanks to the unprompted assistance of a nearby Pashtun family, Mohammed calls upon his medical knowledge to save the life of Shahay, a young widow who had bravely helped fight off the attackers before being injured. 

Mohammed accepts the invite of Shahay’s brothers to tend to her recovery at their Bajaur home and now welcomed as an esteemed guest, he soon becomes drawn to them, especially Shahay, known as the “Leopard’s Daughter”.  

His visit, however, unknowingly sets in motion a CIA private contractor operation aimed at discovering Mohammed’s true motives and allegiance.  

Before it closes, it will bring tragedy and gruesome deaths to the residents of Bajaur, raising the question of whether these innocent deaths can ever be forgiven.  

The premise of this story, then is immediately promising—a fast-paced thriller with a romantic subplot that both softens the bleak scenario while at the same time only ramping up the peril and stakes.  

Yet it must also be stated that The Leopard’s Daughter: A Pukhtun Story is also undoubtedly an anti-war novel, highlighting through its well-drawn and engaging characters, keen observations, and thoughtful plotting, the devastating impact of the US military intervention.  

Not very well-known in the western world, the Pukhtuns are part of the broader Pashtuns ethnic group of Afghanistan and Pakistan, separated from the wider Pashtuns only by their  dialect.  

Finn is the perfect author to bring us into this hidden culture, essentially unknown to those in the West in any meaningful way.  

Firstly, he has previously co-authored A Brief Introduction: Believing Women In Islam, which considers the Quran’s teachings about women and patriarchy and which has been nominated for the prestigious 2022 Grawemeyer Award in Religion. 

Secondly, he is a keen scholar on the Pashtun people, counting many elders as friends and whom he interviewed while researching his novel. 

Thirdly, he comes from a military family and keeps abreast of American foreign policy and politics, approaching it with the enquiring mind one would expect of a philosophy teacher.  

This is why, then, the alien world he conveys seems so concrete and lived in, providing a vivid representation of Pashtun culture. 

This wider context is what is missing from the sterilised reporting of war, and what makes you understand better than anything else that beneath the language and religious differences there are just people trying to keep things going amidst a climate of uncertainty and fear.  

The novel avoids a reductionist approach of simply swapping the hats and calling US troops the bad guys and the natives the heroes,  but does not flinch from pointing out that many of the atrocities committed in the name of peace, as well as the blunders and cover-ups, came from the American side.  

One passage perfectly sums this deplorable aggressor mentality up, with Mohammed concerned over innocent loss of life and a fellow American, Montoya, telling him “All Afghans are hostiles”.  

“When Afghans kill Afghans, it’s a feud. When we kill them, we’re an invader. Any Afghan, Pashtun or not, will fight us. The more hostility, the more need for our military. Success means bodies. For us, improving body count means anyone who winds up dead is a hostile.”  

“Mohammed winced. ‘Innocents?’ Montoya shook his head. ‘Innocents? Where’s your cynicism? Why are soldiers here? Soldiers kill people. Promotions come from bodies. Trust me. Whether our guys wanted them dead or they’re collaterals, they’ll be hostiles. Innocents? There can’t be any.’” 

With such powerful scenes and incisive dialogue, it is impossible not to rethink the propaganda the West has been fed for so long over the Afghan war and, by so doing, discover enormous empathy for the Pashtuns.  

The novel also has very strong themes of race and culture division, how societies interact at macro and micro levels and how individuals (such as those in the military) can negatively shape the outcomes of people’s lives.  

The Leopard’s Daughter, however, is far from entirely bleak. While there is much violence and horror, equally there is love and tenderness in Mohammed and Shahay’s attempts to build a relationship in a world that is being torn down around them.