
I met a friendly Canadian in Terminal 2 at Dubai International Airport. We were lining up for the flight to Kabul.
“Where are you staying?” he asked as we shuffled toward the gate.
“Dunno,” I answered. He twisted his face into a look that was one part incredulity and two parts mad dad.
“Have you ever been to a place like this?” he asked. I glanced at the card he’d handed me: Colonel Michael McLean, Canadian Defence Attaché.
“A place like what?”
“A place where they’ll kidnap you and cut your throat. Listen to me,” he said sternly. “You need to stay at the Serena Hotel. It’s safe there.”
It was an audacious recommendation. The city’s “safest” accommodation had recently become its bloodiest.
The Serena was built from the bombed out skeleton of the sixty-year-old Kabul Hotel. After President Hamid Karzai presided over its opening in 2005, the city’s only five-star hotel became a popular gathering place for well-paid aid workers, security contractors, and consultants eager to escape the dust and chaos. Kabul was a shambles, but the lucky few who made it through security at the hotel’s iron gate could enjoy two fine restaurants, a co-ed pool, an air-conditioned health club, and a spa specializing in Elemis brand skin therapy. From the rose garden, guests could gaze at Sher Darwaza, the arid mountainside where returned refugees built huts from the scree. Rooms start at $280 (US). The Serena was, as one of its press releases proclaimed, “an oasis of luxury in a war-ravaged city.” Perhaps that’s what made it a target.
Last January, suicide bombers stormed the hotel. One of them exploded at the Serena’s gate. During the ensuing confusion, two of his pals charged into the compound, armed with machine guns and grenades. One marched through the marbled lobby into the Serena’s gym and spa, shooting at everyone he saw. Seven guests and staff were killed before he was captured. It was the first suicide attack on a soft target in Kabul since the fall of the Taliban.
I didn’t need the defence attaché’s encouragement to visit the Serena, however. I had read dozens of accounts of the attack, and was struck by one particular detail: the attackers didn’t hunt down the Norwegian foreign minister (a guest at the time) or any other politician. Instead, they laid siege to the hedonistic heart of the oasis. Why would insurgents choose the heavily guarded Serena when there were easy marks throughout the city? It was as though the building itself, with its high walls and unheard-of luxuries, had been the real target. If so, the Serena and places like it had a story to tell about the relationship between architecture and violence.





