From an old-style Afghan camera, a new view of life under the Taliban emerges

Associated Press photographer Rodrigo Abd takes a portrait of Taliban fighters with a wooden box camera in Bamiyan, Afghanistan, on June 18, 2023. (AP)
Short Url
Updated 22 September 2023
Follow

From an old-style Afghan camera, a new view of life under the Taliban emerges

  • Mamra-e-faoree, or instant camera, was a common sight on Afghan city streets in the last century
  • Tool of a bygone era, the box camera imparts a vintage, timeless quality to the images

KABUL, Afghanistan: The odd device draws curious onlookers everywhere. From the outside, it resembles little more than a large black box on a tripod. Inside lies its magic: a hand-made wooden camera and darkroom in one.
As a small crowd gathers around the box camera, images of beauty and of hardship ripple to life from its dark interior: a family enjoying an outing in a swan boat on a lake; child laborers toiling in brick factories; women erased by all-covering veils; armed young men with fire in their eyes.
Sitting for a portrait in a war-scarred Afghan village, a Taliban fighter remarks: “Life is much more joyful now.” For a young woman in the Afghan capital, forced out of education because of her gender, the opposite is true: “My life is like a prisoner, like a bird in a cage.”
The instrument used to record these moments is a kamra-e-faoree, or instant camera. They were a common sight on Afghan city streets in the last century — a fast and easy way to make portraits, especially for identity documents. Simple, cheap and portable, they endured amid half a century of dramatic changes in this country — from a monarchy to a communist takeover, from foreign invasions to insurgencies — until 21st-century digital technology rendered them obsolete.
Using this nearly disappeared homegrown art form to document life in post-war Afghanistan, from Herat in the west and Kandahar in the south to Kabul in the east and Bamiyan in the center, produced hundreds of black-and-white prints that reveal a complex, sometimes contradictory narrative.
Made over the course of a month, the images underscore how in the two years since US troops pulled out and the Taliban returned to power, life has changed dramatically for many Afghans — whereas for others, little has changed over the decades, regardless of who was in power.
A tool of a bygone era, the box camera imparts a vintage, timeless quality to the images, as if the country’s past is superimposed over its present, which in some respects, it is.
At first glance the faded black-and-white, sometimes slightly out-of-focus images convey an Afghanistan frozen in time. But that aesthetic is deceiving. These are reflections of the country very much as it is now.

AN UNEASY RELATIONSHIP WITH THE CAMERA

During their first stint in power from 1996 to 2001, the Taliban banned photography of humans and animals as contrary to the teachings of Islam. Many box cameras were smashed, though some were quietly tolerated, Afghan photographers say. But it was the advent of the digital age that sounded the device’s death knell.




Associated Press photographer Rodrigo Abd takes a portrait of a man and his pack animal with a wooden box camera in Bamiyan, Afghanistan, on June 16, 2023. (AP/File)

“These things are gone,” said Lutfullah Habibzadeh, 72, a former kamra-e-faoree photographer in Kabul. “Digital cameras are on the market, and (the old ones) are out of use.” Habibzadeh still has his old box camera, a relic of the last century passed down to him by his photographer father. It no longer works, but he has lovingly preserved its red leather coating, decorated with sample photos.

On Afghan city streets today, billboard advertisements have faces spray-painted out, and clothing store windows display mannequins with their heads wrapped in black plastic bags, to adhere to the renewed ban on the depictions of faces.

But the advent of the Internet age and of smartphones have made a ban on photography impossible to impose. The novel sight of an old box camera elicits excitement and curiosity – even among those who police the new rules. From foot soldiers to high-ranking officials, many Taliban were happy to pose for box camera portraits.




Associated Press photographer Rodrigo Abd takes a portrait of Lutfullah Habibzadeh, 72, who uses a similar wooden box camera, in Kabul, Afghanistan, on May 31, 2023. (AP/File)

Outside a warehouse in Kabul, a group of men watch intently as the camera is set up. At first, they seem shy. But as the first portraits emerge, curiosity overtakes their reservations. Soon, they’re smiling and joking as they wait to have their photos taken, pitching in to help when a black cloth backdrop slips off the wall. As each man steps forward for his portrait, set jaws replace tentative smiles. Adjusting their grip on their assault rifles, they look straight into the camera’s tiny lens and hold their poses.
Most of these men joined the Taliban as teenagers or in their early 20s and have known nothing but war. They were drawn to the fundamentalist movement because of their fervent Muslim faith – and their determination to expel US and NATO troops who invaded their country and propped up two decades of Afghan governments that failed to crack down on rampant corruption and crime.
Bahadur Rahaani, a 52-year-old Taliban member with piercing light blue eyes beneath his black turban, says he’s happy to see the Taliban back in power. With them in government, “Afghanistan will be rebuilt,” he says. “Without them, it is not possible.”

PEACE, AT A PRICE

Two years after Taliban militias swept across the country to seize power again, there are strong echoes of life as it was before US-led NATO forces toppled them from government in 2001.
Once more, the country is ruled by a fundamentalist movement that has restored many of the strict rules it imposed in the 1990s. The first Taliban regime was notorious for destroying art and cultural patrimony it deemed un-Islamic, such as the giant ancient buddhas carved into cliffs in Bamiyan. They imposed brutal punishments, chopping off hands of thieves, hanging supposed blasphemers in public squares and stoning women accused of adultery.
Once again, executions and lashings are back. Music, movies, dancing and performances are banned, and women are again excluded from nearly all public life, including education and all but a few professions.
The return to fundamentalist policies has chased away Western donors, aid workers and trade partners. Poverty has spiraled to crisis levels, fueled by the ban on women working, deep cuts in foreign aid and international sanctions. But there is nearly universal relief that the relentless bloodshed of the past four decades of invasions, multiple insurgencies and civil war has largely ceased.
There are still sporadic bombings, most attributed to enemies of the Taliban, the extremist group Islamic State-Khorasan Province, or IS-K. But Afghans interviewed say their country is more peaceful than they’ve known for decades.
The United Nations recorded 1,095 civilians killed in deliberate attacks between Aug. 15, 2021, when the Taliban reclaimed power, through May 30, 2023. That’s a fraction of the annual civilian death toll over two decades of war between US-led NATO forces and insurgents.
Even those who dislike the current regime say banditry, kidnapping and corruption, which were rampant under the previous governments, have been largely reined in.
But less crime and violence does not necessarily translate to prosperity and happiness.

WOMEN, ERASED

In a three-story building tucked in a Kabul alleyway, a group of women work silently at a loom. Zamarod’s hands move swiftly, nimble fingers flitting between strands of yarn as she knots colored wool around them, making a carpet. Her movements are rapid, almost brusque, but her voice is soft and sad. “My life is like a prisoner,” she says. “Like a bird in a cage.”
The 20-year-old had been studying computer science, but the Taliban banned women from universities before she could graduate. Now she and her 23-year-old sister work in a carpet factory, falling back on a skill their mother taught them as children. They are among very few women who can earn money outside the home and, like others, asked that only their first names be used for fear of retribution for speaking out.




Associated Press photographer Rodrigo Abd takes a portrait of a girl in a carpet factory, with a wooden box camera, in Kabul, Afghanistan, on May 29, 2023. (AP/File)


Women have experienced the starkest changes since the Taliban’s return. They must adhere to a strict dress code, are banned from most jobs and denied simple pleasures such as visiting a park or going to a restaurant. Girls can no longer attend school beyond sixth grade, and women must be escorted by a male relative to travel.
For all intents and purposes, women have been being erased from public life.
Even in this environment, Zamarod hasn’t given up on her dream of graduating. “We have to have hope. We hope that one day we will be free, that freedom is possible,” she says. “That’s why we live and breathe.”
In another room, 50-year-old Hakima is introducing her teenage daughter Freshta to weaving. It is their only way of eking out a living, though she still dreams her 16-year-old daughter will someday become a doctor. “Afghanistan has gone backwards,” she says, donning an all-encompassing burka to pose for a portrait. “People go door to door for a piece of bread and our children are dying.”
While the clock has turned back for women who’ve lost financial independence and a voice in public life and government, in conservative, tribal parts of the country, expectations for women have always been different and have changed little over the years — even during US and NATO military presence.
Even so, education is a priority for many Afghans. In dozens of interviews across the country, nearly everyone — including some members of the Taliban — said they wanted girls and women to be educated. Most said they believed the education ban was temporary, and that older girls would eventually be allowed back into schools. They say keeping girls and women confined at home doesn’t help the country, or its economy.
“We need doctors, teachers,” says Hajji Muhibullah Aloko, a 34-year-old teacher in the village of Tabin, west of Kandahar. Women must be educated “so that Afghanistan improves in every sector.”
The international community has withheld recognition of the Taliban and pressed its leadership to roll back their restrictions on women — to no avail.
“That is up to Afghans and not foreigners, they shouldn’t get involved,” Taliban government spokesman Zabiullah Mujahid says during an interview in Kandahar, the birthplace of the movement in southern Afghanistan and a stronghold of conservative values.
“We are waiting for the right moment regarding the schools. And while the schools are closed now, they won’t be forever,” he says. He won’t give a timeline but insists “the world shouldn’t use this as an excuse” not to recognize the Taliban government.

VICTORIOUS INSURGENTS

The village of Tabin lies deep in the Arghandab River valley, a fertile swath of fruit orchards and irrigation canals cutting through Kandahar Province’s dusty desert.
But around it, the remnants of war are everywhere. The derelict remains of American combat outposts have faded warnings of mines and grenades spraypainted on their wind-blown blast walls. Tangles of abandoned razor wire litter the ground. Bombed-out houses lie in ruins. And there’s the ubiquitous presence of armed young men adjusting from a life of fighting to one of living in peace.
The new jobs — policing streets, guarding buildings, collecting garbage — are the mundane, necessary tasks of governing. It’s less dramatic than waging war, but there is palpable relief to be free of the violence.
Without fear of airstrikes or bullets, children shriek in delight as they splash about in an irrigation canal, leaping into the murky water from a bridge.
“Life is much more joyful now. Before there used to be lots of brutality and aggression,” 28-year-old Abdul Halim Hilal says, sheltering from the blazing sun under a mulberry tree before posing for a portrait. “Innocent people would die. Villages were bombed. We couldn’t bear it.”
He joined the Taliban as a teenager, believing it was his moral duty to fight foreign troops. He lost as many as 20 friends to the war, and more were wounded. He’s stung by the memory of his dead brothers-in-arms when he sees their fatherless children, but he’s comforted by an unshakeable belief that their sacrifice was worth it.
“The ones that were killed were fighting to sacrifice themselves for the country,” he says. “It’s because of the blood they gave that we’re now here, giving interviews freely, and the Muslims here are living in peace.”
A villager walks by, glancing at the gaggle of curious children and adults gathered around the box camera. “It’s so strange,” he mutters. “We used to fight against these foreigners, and now they’re here taking pictures.”
Mujeeburahman Faqer, a 26-year-old Taliban fighter, now mans an uneventful security checkpoint in Kabul. Like many others, he’s struggling to adapt to a peacetime mentality, because all he’s ever known was war. “I had prepared my head for sacrifice,” he says, “and I am still ready.”

A FOUNDERING ECONOMY —  AND A STRUGGLE TO SURVIVE

Security has improved since the end of the insurgency against US forces. But with peace came an economy in freefall.
When the Taliban seized power again in 2021, international donors withdrew funding, froze Afghan assets abroad, isolated its financial sector and imposed sanctions.
That squeeze, combined with the near-total ban on women working, has crippled the economy. Per capita income shrank by an estimated 30 percent last year compared to 2020, according to the United Nations Development Program.
Nearly half of Afghanistan’s 40 million people now face acute food insecurity, the UN’s World Food Program says. Malnutrition is above emergency thresholds in 25 of 34 provinces.
Struggling to survive is something Kasnia already knows at age 4. In a brick factory outside Kabul, she scoops out a chunk of mud with her tiny hands, kneading it until it is pliable enough for a brick mold. After countless repetitions, her movements are automatic. She works six days a week from sunrise until sunset, with brief breaks for breakfast and lunch, toiling next to her siblings and her father — one family among many in a sprawling factory where children become laborers at age 3.
“Everyone wishes that their children study and become teachers, doctors, engineers, and benefit the future of the country,” says her father, Wahidullah, 35, who goes by one name, as do his children.
Even with the entire family working, there’s often not enough money for food and they live hand to mouth on credit from shopkeepers. Of his three sons and three daughters, all except the youngest one are brickmakers.
“When I was young, my dream was to have a comfortable life, to have a nice office, to have a nice car, to go to parks, to travel around my country and abroad, to go to Europe,” he recalls. Instead, “I make bricks.” There is no bitterness in his voice, just acceptance of an inevitable fate.
Many Afghans have resorted to selling their belongings — everything from furniture to clothing and shoes — to survive.
When the Taliban banned movies, Nabi Attai had nothing to fall back on. In his 70s, the actor appeared in a dozen television series and 76 films, including the Golden Globe-winning 2003 movie “Osama.” Now he is destitute.
His home, tucked in a warren of steep alleys, is now nearly devoid of furniture, which he sold in the bazaar to feed his extended family. Sold, too, is his beloved TV.
After 42 years of acting, Attai has no work. Neither do his two sons, who were also in the movie and music business. Attai is glad the streets are now safe, but he has 13 family members to feed and no way to feed them.
He asked local authorities for any job, even collecting garbage. There was nothing. So he started selling his belongings. “I have no hope right now,” he says. Even begging is now punished by imprisonment under the Taliban.
Over the past year, he has become frail. His cheeks are sunken, his frame thinner. There’s a sadness in his eyes that rarely leaves, even when he recounts his glory days.
“We made good movies before,” he says. “May God have mercy that music and cinema will be allowed again, and the people will rebuild the country hand in hand, and the government will come closer to the people and embrace each other as friends and brothers.”

PINPRICKS OF GLITZ

The shimmering lights of wedding halls cut through the gloom as night encroaches on Kabul, pinpricks of glitz in the darkness.
Despite the economic slump, wedding halls are doing a brisk trade, buoyed in part by wealthier Afghan emigres returning home for traditional marriage ceremonies now that the security situation has improved.
Weddings are a big part of Afghan culture, and families sometimes bankrupt themselves to ensure a lavish party for hundreds or even thousands of guests.
Construction of the Imperial Continental wedding hall began four years ago but was disrupted by the COVID pandemic and the Taliban takeover. The opulent venue finally opened its doors last year.
Manager Mohammad Wesal Quaoni, 30, cuts a dapper figure in a sharp suit as he sweeps through the glamorous, cavernous halls, juggling four weddings in one night. The former Kabul University lecturer in economics and politics is trying to ensure the business thrives amid the country’s economic woes. It’s not easy.
“Business is weak,” he says, and onerous government rules and regulations don’t help. The Taliban are raising taxes, but he says there isn’t enough commerce to support a healthy tax base.
The ban on music and dancing doesn’t help. Gone are the live musicians and even the DJs who would bring in extra revenue, Quaoni says. Weddings are segregated by gender but, for once, there’s sometimes a bit more fun for the women.
Occasionally women and girls enjoy taped music in the ladies’ section. “If they want, they do it,” restrictions or not, he said. “Women will be women.”
Five hundred miles west of the capital, on the outskirts of the city of Herat, businessman Abdul Khaleq Khodadadi, 39, has an entirely different set of challenges.
Rayan Saffron Company, where he is vice president, exports the prized spice to customers, mainly in Europe and the US But the Taliban takeover and ensuing sanctions left many foreign clients reluctant to do business with an Afghan company – even though it’s one of the few still allowed to employ women, whose hands are deemed more suitable than men’s to extracting and handling the delicate crocus flowers.
The isolation of the banking sector has also left many Afghan companies with no way to trade except through a third country, usually Pakistan, which significantly increases costs. Then there’s drought that has decimated crops, including saffron.
His company had aimed to increase their production this year. Instead, their production fell to half of what it was three years ago, he says.
Khodadadi says he is determined to persevere. For him, successful businesses are the best way to heal Afghanistan’s wounds.
In the chaotic early days of the Taliban takeover, Khodadadi felt intense pressure to join the tens of thousands of people who fled, he says. He had a visa and family and friends urged him to leave, but he refused to go.
“It was very, very hard,” he recalls. “But ... if I leave, if all the talented people, educated people leave, who will make this country? When will this country solve the problems?”


At least 2 dead and 12 missing after a fishing boat sinks off South Korea’s Jeju island

Updated 18 sec ago
Follow

At least 2 dead and 12 missing after a fishing boat sinks off South Korea’s Jeju island

  • Nearby fishing vessels managed to pull 15 crew members out of the water, but two of them were later pronounced dead
  • 27 crew members were on the 129-tonne boat, which left Jeju’s Seogwipo port late Thursday to catch mackerel
SEOUL: A fishing boat capsized and sank off the coast of South Korea’s Jeju island Friday, leaving at least two people dead and 12 others unaccounted for, coast guard officials said.
Nearby fishing vessels managed to pull 15 crew members out of the water, but two of them were later pronounced dead after being brought to shore. The other 13 did not sustain life-threatening injuries, said Kim Han-na, an official at Jeju’s coast guard.
She said 27 crew members – 16 South Korean nationals and 11 foreigners – were on the 129-tonne boat, which left Jeju’s Seogwipo port late Thursday to catch mackerel. The coast guard received a distress signal at around 4:30 a.m. Friday from a nearby fishing vessel that conducted rescue efforts as the boat sank 24 kilometers northwest of the island.
At least 11 vessels and nine aircraft from South Korea’s coast guard, police, fire service and military were deployed as of Friday morning to search for survivors. They were being assisted by 13 civilian vessels.
South Korean President Yoon Suk Yeol called for officials to mobilize all available resources to find and rescue the missing crew members, his office said.

South Korea holds missile drill after North Korea launches

Updated 3 min 35 sec ago
Follow

South Korea holds missile drill after North Korea launches

SEOUL: South Korea fired a ballistic missile into the sea in a show of force after North Korea’s recent salvo of missile launches, Seoul said Friday.
The nuclear-armed North had test-fired what it said was its most advanced and powerful solid-fuel intercontinental ballistic missile (ICBM) as well as a number of short-range ballistic missiles in separate drills over the last two weeks.
South Korea’s military command said its live-fire exercise was aimed at demonstrating its “strong resolve to firmly respond to any North Korean provocation.”
It also underlined its “capability and readiness for precision strikes against the enemy’s origin of provocation,” the Joint Chiefs of Staff added.
A Hyunmoo surface-to-surface short-range missile was sent into the West Sea in the exercise, the military command said.
South Korea started domestic production of short-range ballistic missiles in the 1970s to counter the threats posed by North Korea.
Hyunmoo are a series of missiles which are key to the country’s so-called ‘Kill Chain’ preemptive strike system, which allows Seoul to launch a preemptive attack if there are signs of imminent North Korean attack.
In early October, the country displayed for the first time its largest ballistic missile, the Hyunmoo-5, which is capable of destroying underground bunkers.
Last Sunday, South Korea, Japan and the United States conducted a joint air drill involving a US B-1B bomber, South Korean F-15K and KF-16 fighter jets, and Japanese F-2 jets, in response to the North’s ICBM launch.
Such joint drills infuriate Pyongyang, which views them as rehearsals for invasion.
Kim Yo Jong, sister of the country’s leader and a key spokesperson, called the US-South Korea-Japan exercises an “action-based explanation of the most hostile and dangerous aggressive nature of the enemy toward our Republic.”
The drill was an “absolute proof of the validity and urgency of the line of building up the nuclear forces we have opted for and put into practice,” she added.

Taiwan coast guard offers rewards for spotting foreign ships

Updated 16 min 20 sec ago
Follow

Taiwan coast guard offers rewards for spotting foreign ships

  • Taiwan’s coast guard said Friday it will reward people who report the presence of foreign military ships, including those from China

TAIPEI: Taiwan’s coast guard said Friday it will reward people who report the presence of foreign military ships, including those from China, in waters around the island, as it seeks the public’s help with monitoring “abnormal” activity.
China regularly deploys fighter jets, navy ships and coast guard vessels around Taiwan to press its claims of sovereignty over the island, which Taipei’s government rejects.
Taiwan is massively outgunned by China, which has refused to renounce the use of force to bring the island under its control.
“The Coast Guard’s manpower is limited but the people power at sea is unlimited,” Taiwan’s coast guard said in a statement announcing the rewards.
The coast guard called on people, including fishers, to “stay vigilant to abnormal maritime activities” to help counter the growing “threats from the sea” and “all kinds of grey zone harassment tactics” — actions that fall short of an act of war.
People who reported homicide, piracy, arson and kidnapping to the coast guard could receive up to NT$200,000 ($6,200), while reports of Chinese “stowaways” would be rewarded with NT$50,000, and NT$10,000 for other foreign stowaways.
Verified reports to the coast guard about foreign and Chinese military ships and other vessels would be rewarded with NT$3,000.
China maintains a near-daily presence of naval vessels and warplanes around the island.
Chinese coast guard ships have also been spotted around Taiwan’s outlying islands, at times briefly entering its restricted waters.
A series of incidents involving boats from both sides have fueled tensions across the narrow waterway separating Taiwan and China.
A Taiwanese court in September sentenced a former Chinese naval captain to eight months in prison for illegally entering the island by boat.


Salman Rushdie’s ‘Satanic Verses’ can be imported in India as court told 1988 ban order untraceable

Updated 57 min 30 sec ago
Follow

Salman Rushdie’s ‘Satanic Verses’ can be imported in India as court told 1988 ban order untraceable

  • India-born British author’s novel was banned by India in 1988 after some Muslims viewed it as blasphemous
  • Salman Rushdie’s fourth fictional novel ran into a global controversy shortly after its publication in September 1988

NEW DELHI: India’s three-decade ban on importing author Salman Rushdie’s controversial ‘The Satanic Verses’ book has effectively been lifted after a court said the government was unable to produce the original notification that imposed the ban.
The India-born British author’s novel was banned by India in 1988 after some Muslims viewed it as blasphemous. The Delhi High Court was hearing a 2019 case challenging the import ban of the book in India.
According to a Nov. 5 court order, India’s government told the Delhi High Court that the import ban order “was untraceable and, therefore could not be produced.”
As a result, the court said it had “no other option except to presume that no such notification exists.”
“The ban has been lifted as of Nov. 5 because there is no notification,” Uddyam Mukherjee, lawyer for petitioner Sandipan Khan, said.
India’s interior and finance ministries did not immediately respond to requests for comment.
Khan’s plea said he approached the court after being told at bookstores that the novel could not be sold or imported in India and then when he searched, he could not find the official import ban order on the government websites.
Even in court the government has been unable to produce the order, he said.
“None of the respondents could produce the said notification ... in fact the purported author of the said notification has also shown his helplessness in producing a copy,” the Nov. 5 order noted, referring to the customs department official who drafted the order.
Rushdie’s fourth fictional novel ran into a global controversy shortly after its publication in September 1988, as some Muslims saw passages about Prophet Muhammad as blasphemous.
It sparked violent demonstrations and book burnings across the Muslim world, including in India, which has the world’s third largest Muslim population.
In 1989, Iran’s then supreme leader, Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, issued a fatwa, or religious edict, calling on Muslims to assassinate Rushdie, sending the Booker Prize-winning author into hiding for six years.
In August 2022, about 33 years after the fatwa, Rushdie was stabbed on stage during a lecture in New York, which left him blind in one eye and affected the use of one of his hands.


Maccabi Tel Aviv fans clash with reported pro-Palestinian protesters at Ajax Europa League match

Updated 10 min 49 sec ago
Follow

Maccabi Tel Aviv fans clash with reported pro-Palestinian protesters at Ajax Europa League match

  • Israel’s PM aware of ‘very violent incident’ against Israelis in Amsterdam
  • Netanyahu directed that two rescue planes be sent immediately to assist citizens there

AMSTERDAM: Supporters of Maccabi Tel Aviv clashed with apparent pro-Palestinian protesters before and after a Europa League soccer match between their team and Ajax outside the Dutch team’s home stadium in Amsterdam on Thursday night, media and officials said.
The clashes reportedly erupted despite a ban on a pro-Palestinian demonstration imposed by Amsterdam Mayor Femke Halsema, who had feared that clashes would break out between protesters and supporters of the Israeli soccer club.
Details of the incidents remained unclear, but Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has been informed of the details of “a very violent incident” targeting Israeli citizens in Amsterdam, his office said on Friday.
He directed that two rescue planes be sent immediately to assist citizens there, it added in a statement.
Israel’s national security ministry has also urged its citizens in Amsterdam to stay in their hotel rooms following the attacks, the prime minister’s office said in a second statement.
“Fans who went to see a football game, encountered anti-Semitism and were attacked with unimaginable cruelty just because of their Jewishness and Israeliness,” Israeli Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir said in a post on X.

Israeli media reported that Netanyahu also called his Dutch counterpart about them.

Israeli Foreign Minister Gideon Saar has asked the Dutch government to help Israeli citizens arrive safely at the airport, Saar told his Dutch counterpart Caspar Veldkamp in a phone call on Friday.
Israel’s ambassador to the United Nations, Danny Danon, also condemned the violence in a post on the social media platform X.
There were no immediate reports of arrests or injuries from the clashes outside the Johan Cruyff Arena in Amsterdam, the city’s main arena and Ajax’s home stadium. Ajax won the Europa League match 5-0 after leading 3-0 at halftime.