Fleeing from a country long devastated by war, despotism, religious extremism and poverty, thousands of Afghans have abandoned their homes over the past three decades to find a better and safer life in the Soviet Union and Russia.

There are more than 150,000 Afghans in Russia, with about a third in Moscow alone, estimates say. The composition of the Moscow diaspora is extremely diverse, with about 100 former ministers and governor-generals, 200 army generals, 100 professional journalists, 400 Ph.D.-holders in different fields and several thousands of other minor specialists, according to Afghan diaspora statistics.

Russia, with its own perennial political, economic and internal migration problems, has always had little to offer them. But the Afghans say they don’t need much – a little understanding from their neighbors and a drastic reduction of red tape in processing their applications for U.N.-sanctioned refugee status would be enough to turn the situation around for them.

Mostly housed in the Sevastopol hotel complex, which serves as a residence, cultural, and education center as well as a commodity market on the city’s southern outskirts, the steady stream of Afghans outside makes the community look like one of Kabul’s central districts, much to the annoyance of ethnic Russians, who complain about the "Afghanization" of their neighborhood.

While the Afghans are hardened to racial discrimination and abuse, as well as extortion from law-enforcement agencies and all-powerful immigration officials, palpable fear still pervades the whole Sevastopol complex.

Shop attendants on the 12th floor, who hardly speak Russian, said politely that they were not allowed to talk to the press or anyone else.

The fate of each Afghan in Moscow is a reflection of the history of their country –devastated by problems that make everyday life a tedious exercise, these people nevertheless remain defiant, refusing to be broken by the hardships they have to bear in Russia.

Hearing about these people and their problems on TV is one thing, but one gets an indelible impression sitting and listening to a former governor, army general or Ph.D.-holder in a marketplace as they narrate these same ordeals, said Tatyana, one of the workers in the complex, who declined to give her surname.

These are proud people who do not like to beg for what they believe are their rights as refugees, she added.

"Problems abound, but the main one is the inability to get the U.N.-sanctioned refugee status that Russia has purposely refused to grant most of us, due partly to the economic burden that goes with it," said Gulam Mohammed, former governor-general of Kunar province, and now president of the Afghan Moscow Diaspora.

"Without this status, most of us don’t legally exist for the government," he said. "Our everyday problems include police harassment, and the inability to look for legal jobs and access basic health and educational facilities for our children because of the Moscow city government’s demands for registration – a notorious vestige of the oppressive Communist system.

"There have even been instances when our pregnant women in labor have been denied admission to local hospitals. But some of these problems have now been solved with an Afghan private school for 100 pupils functioning in the neighborhood, and a clinic manned by our doctors catering to our medical needs."

Aid from the Afghan Embassy in Moscow is not forthcoming either, as the diplomats are not only unwilling to help, but also frustrate efforts to change the situation, Mohammed said.

"The embassy is full of Northern Alliance and Burhanuddin Rabbani’s people, whose exclusive interests they represent here. They do not help most of us, as we are neither Rabbani’s supporters nor big fans of the Northern Alliance," said a soft-spoken, middle-aged man, who identified himself as Latif, a professional journalist.

The Afghan Embassy in Moscow denied the claims. "The problem is that most of them live very independently. We provide as much help as possible to those in need, including helping to secure their release from detention whenever they are in trouble," said Gulam Sakhighairat, first secretary at the embassy.

The embassy, just like any other official organization here, does not know the exact number of Afghans in Russia, though it estimates there are around 25,000 nationwide with about 15,000 in Moscow.

Moscow is often used as a stop-off point for destinations in the West, so the figure can vary quite widely, Sakhighairat said.

Ahmad is one of those who say they are just passing through Russia on their way to more prosperous Western European countries with a better-developed social security system, as well as a better record of observance of human rights. He said he plans to join his uncle in Sweden as soon as possible.

However, the fate of Afghans in transit all over the world is often more tragic than it is for those who choose to settle in a particular place. Inadequately or totally unprepared for life in their transit countries, they often have many problems to contend with en route to their dream countries.

A former army officer now working as a porter, who asked not to be identified, said he has friends who have been charged thousands of dollars to be smuggled to the West, only to find themselves packed into poorly ventilated containers in ill-equipped boats. After sailing through storms and being abandoned by their escorts, these people often don’t end up where they intended.

The few that make it to their final destinations of choice face tedious bureaucratic immigration procedures. Sometimes they are refused the right to come ashore, as happened in Australia this autumn when a ship from Malaysia with hundreds of Afghans on board was not allowed to land, and was later re-routed to an island in the Pacific Ocean.

The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees said in an October report that it costs about $100 per person to cross from Afghanistan into neighboring countries, with the price increasing proportionally with the distance.

In terms of profitability, only narcotic and armaments markets in Afghanistan outperform the transit business, according to experts.

Aside from the general problems faced by Afghans in Moscow or in transit, each of the Sevastopol residents has his unique story to tell.

Gulam Nabi Shemwari, a 47-year-old former university lecturer, fled to Russia in 1993 after suffering political persecution that included 10 years’ imprisonment without trial.

"There is absolutely no trace of the intelligentsia left in Afghanistan, with more than 3 million murdered and several million more exiled. The majority of the more than 20 million Afghans are now illiterates, with marauding, gun-toting and various forms of extremism as their stocks-in-trade," he added.

Shemwari’s ordeals, like those of many of his compatriots, tell a tale of a struggle for survival against the odds.

Without any prior knowledge of the language, Shemwari now speaks passable Russian, crediting his linguistic prowess to the Sevastopol market. He talked about lost opportunities, broken careers, disrupted family life and bonds among friends, the effects of betrayal, the unbearable stress that accompanies sudden changes in lifestyle and, more brokenheartedly, narrated his ordeals in his new country, which he learned to hate after the Soviet invasion on Dec. 27, 1979, a date most Afghans remember vividly.

"I had absolutely no help, not from the Russian government, the U.N. or from my embassy when I came here," he said. "We are surviving by mutual aid, those of us who have more try to give to those who have less or none at all."

He now manages a small store with fellow younger countrymen as aides, including Malair, a 24-year-old former third-year medical student.

Malair talked of his childhood dreams of becoming a doctor; but now in Moscow, unsure of himself, looking shabby and older than his age, he dreams of just any country to live in like a normal human being with his people, family and friends nearby.

Though far away from home, the diaspora keep tabs on the events going on there at the moment, he added.

However, the prospect of going home remains hazy to all of them. Shemwari and his compatriots are not that optimistic about the future of their country, despite the apparent success of the ongoing U.S.-led war to drive out the Taliban and Osama bin Laden.

"We are aware of the U.N.-sponsored conference to lay a foundation for an interim government, which will include all the interested parties, and the fragility of the agreement reached there so far," Mohammed said.

"But more than 20 similar agreements have been signed on Afghanistan’s political future," Latif added. "The latest was in 1992, when Rabbani was to rule for only four months, and there was a specific clause in the agreement banning any extension of this period without general election. Rabbani, a key signatory to the agreement, later extended it for several years, until the Taliban swept him out of office."

A former army general, who asked to remain anonymous, said most Afghans in Moscow are adopting a "wait and see" attitude to the issue. "Generally, we always support U.N.-sponsored settlement plans, but without complete disarmament of the warring clans and their mercenaries, no lasting peace agreement will ever work in Afghanistan," he said.

Afghans always unite to fight a common enemy, only to find out that they cannot live in peace with their wartime allies afterwards, he added. This was the situation after the Soviets pulled out about 12 years ago, the general said, and he is afraid the current cooperation might end in the same manner with more disastrous consequences.

Moscow’s Afghans blame everything – ethnic and religious heterogeneity, treachery, ineffective international efforts, collective betrayal, and consequently, total distrust among the Afghan ruling elite – for their country’s woes.

"These factors have continued to hold our country hostage to political intrigues, with misunderstandings that would be resolvable in other countries by peaceful means turning into full-blown wars, as has been seen in the 28 years since our last monarch abdicated the throne in 1973," one man added.

What all this means, most say, is that the prospect of ever returning home looks remote.

Though permanent residence in Russia looks like the best choice for most, the process of obtaining legal status is extremely complex. "Those who came here legally can hardly follow the rigorous bureaucratic process to the end, while thousands who arrived illegally or without any official documents do not physically exist as far as the system is concerned, denying them any opportunity to apply for refugee status, the first step toward legalizing their presence in the country," Mohammed said.

Solving the problem in what they say is the typical Russian way – by greasing officials’ palms – is an expensive method affordable for very few. They refused to elaborate on the issue.

While several of their major social problems remain largely unsolved, the Moscow Afghans seem to have found a convenient solution to their unemployment woes by organizing the Sevastopol commodity market within the hotel.

Unlike most other Moscow markets organized along ethnic lines, such as the Chinese or the Vietnamese market, the Sevastopol market with its former hotel apartments turned into stores and shops spread over 10 floors in two blocks, is unique in the city. Afghans from different professional, religious and political backgrounds sell assortments of goods in an atmosphere of comradeship and peaceful co-existence that has remained elusive in their native country.

The hotel is also unique as it has a functioning mosque along with a cultural center, where poetry readings and scientific seminars are held periodically. The center also serves as a venue for weddings and other national festivals in a demonstrated effort to propagate Afghan cultural heritage in a foreign land.

"There is complete harmony among this heterogeneous mix in the Sevastopol hotel – the only place where Afghans live in peace among themselves in the whole world," Mohammed concluded.