A well-known international event occurred on August 3, 1995, when a Taliban MiG — some reports claim two MiGs — forced a civilian Ilyushin Il-76 transport plane to land at Kandahar airport
The Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan Air Force (IEAAF), which was formed from the Democratic Republic of Afghanistan Air Force (DRAAF) remnants from the communist era and supported by Pakistan, quickly rose to become one of the Taliban military’s most effective divisions. It proved to be a successful fighting force, exerting a steadily increasing influence on developments on the battlefield while flying a variety of outdated Soviet and Russian-made aircraft.
According to Lukas Müller’s narrative in his book Wings Over the Hindu Kush Air Forces, Aircraft and Air Warfare of Afghanistan, 1989-2001, Taliban leader Mohammad Omar chose Akhtar Mohammad Mansour as the first commander of Kandahar airport in the summer of 1995. The lack of prior aviation experience for this former mujahideen guerrilla fighter and religious student, who had recently returned from Peshawar in Pakistan, did not stop him from becoming very active in this field and holding various aviation-related positions within the Taliban administration in the years that followed.
He de facto became the first commander of the Taliban’s aviation and air defense force, or more precisely, of the Taliban’s group of men operating aircraft and anti-aircraft weaponry, after he assumed control of Kandahar Airport.
The Pakistani ISI assisted in negotiating a very unexpected settlement between the Taliban and General Dostum somewhere in the first half of 1995. According to the agreement, Dostum’s mechanics repaired several of the aircraft and helicopters that the Taliban had taken over the previous year when they landed in Kandahar via Peshawar and Quetta in July. A Taliban spokesman said that Dostum’s mechanics performed an excellent job because the organization had eight functioning jets at the ready in the summer of 1995. As there had been little flying in the years before the arrival of the Taliban, there was even adequate airplane fuel in subterranean storage tanks at the Kandahar airport.
A well-known international incident occurred on August 3 when a Taliban MiG — or, according to some sources, two MiGs — forced a civilian Ilyushin Il-76 delivery plane to land at Kandahar airport. The Russian-registered Airstan company, which operated the Ilyushin, leased it to Rus Trans Avia Export, a business with a Sharjah, United Arab Emirates, address and was owned by Russian arms dealer Viktor Bout, who was doing business with the Rabbani government.
Opening the cargo bay made it clear that the Ilyushin, which was being piloted by a crew of seven Russians, was carrying 30 tons of weaponry from Albania that were bound for the defense minister of Rabbani, Ahmad Shah Massoud. The seven men were detained at Kandahar Airport, and the aircraft was left idle but undamaged on the tarmac when the Taliban immediately declared they would not allow the crew or the aircraft to return.
In an effort to curry favor with the Taliban and soften their stance, Viktor Bout, his brother Sergey, and the Russian foreign ministry began negotiating the release of the Russian pilots while Bout’s companies began flying cargo to Kandahar. Electronics, clothing, and other consumer products for the Taliban were carried on board these planes, and Viktor Bout quickly transformed this “goodwill” into a profitable business, with the number of daily flights occasionally reaching six. Strangely, what began as an embarrassing international incident led to the beginning of an unlikely alliance between a radical Islamic movement and an entrepreneur from Russia who seized the opportunity while still conducting business with the Rabbani government normally.
The Taliban air force made another successful intercept in September of the same year when one of its MiGs forced another civilian aircraft to land, this time an Ariana Boeing 727 that was traveling from the Emirates to Jalalabad. This occurred as negotiations regarding the release of the aircraft and crew were still ongoing. This suggests that either the Taliban had turned on some of the former communist air defense radars at Kandahar, or that the group’s jets were doing routine patrol missions or both. Boeing was quickly given the all-clear for takeoff after the check because it was transporting commercial goods.
The Taliban eventually agreed to let the captured crew, who had in the interim grown long beards and were suffering from poor food and the generally primitive conditions at their jail, regularly perform maintenance checks on the aircraft after several rounds of negotiations that even included American senator Hank Brown. The Taliban apparently turned down an offer from the Russian side to release the crew in exchange for a supply of helicopter replacement parts.
Therefore, months passed gradually, the crew carried out routine maintenance, and negotiations came to a standstill. On August 16, 1996, 378 days after their capture, the team parted for afternoon prayers as half of the guards who were usually present for maintenance did so. The Russians took advantage of the situation and used an auxiliary power unit to start one of the aircraft’s four engines. They then disarmed and bound the guards before starting the remaining three engines with the help of the running engine.
The plane’s tanks had adequate fuel for the previously scheduled trip to Kabul and back to the Emirate of Sharjah, therefore there was no problem. A group of Talibs attempted to block the runway with a ZIL firefighting truck as the massive transport aircraft was getting ready to take off, but the pilot, Vladimir Sharpatov, was able to take the air before the aircraft would strike the obstacle. In order to avoid being again intercepted by a Taliban MiG, the crew promptly left Afghan airspace and flew via Iran to Sharjah. Nevertheless, according to information now available, no MiGs were really launched into the air.
In the months and years that followed these events, rumors started to circulate that the Taliban, pursuant to some sort of covert agreement with Bout, Russia, or another party, had knowingly allowed the crew to regain control of the aircraft and flee in exchange for shipments of some valuable cargo. We can only surmise as to why no jet took off to pursue the aircraft, but even though the truth may never be known, the crew’s choice to take advantage of the chance to flee was presumably a sincere one that included a tremendous risk of death or injury.
Wings Over the Hindu Kush Air Forces, Aircraft and Air Warfare of Afghanistan, 1989-2001 is published by Helion & Company and is available to order here.
Photo by Aero Icarus from Zürich, Switzerland via Wikipedia and U.S. Air Force