Afghans restore their cultural collections

AFGHANISTAN: After years of fighting and destruction, Afghanistan looks to its cultural heritage to restore a sense of self …

AFGHANISTAN:After years of fighting and destruction, Afghanistan looks to its cultural heritage to restore a sense of self and nation, writes David Orr in Kabul

The turquoise green paint might seem a little garish and the dangly plastic light fittings a touch suburban Deco, but the restoration of Kabul's National Art Gallery is a marvel. Under the misery of the Taliban, the collection was vandalised, then forgotten. Now, a year and a half after the overthrow of the fundamentalist regime, Afghanistan's National Gallery is preparing to reopen its doors.

"We managed to hide hundreds of paintings from the Taliban," says the gallery's administrative director, Said Karim Hotak."An artist even used water colours to paint over the human and animal figures in about 30 paintings so the Taliban thought they were just nature scenes and still-lives."

Before the factional fighting that struck Kabul in 1992, the gallery held more than 800 pieces of art. Half of these were looted during the civil war that engulfed the country or were later destroyed by the Taliban, who arrived in the capital in 1996. The hardline clerics and their foot-soldiers were not known for their appreciation of art. They defaced hundreds of paintings, ripping from them depictions of human figures and animals.

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The gallery was closed for all but the last two years of Taliban rule. On display during that period were about 100 nature scenes. The number of visitors a month could have been counted on one hand, says a curator.

With restoration being funded largely by the Greek government, the gallery's directors are hoping it will draw a significantly larger crowd when it stages its first post-Taliban exhibition in July.

The refurbishment of Kabul Museum will take much longer. Located on the outskirts of the city in a district that saw some of the fiercest fighting during the early- to mid-1990s, it was almost destroyed by rocket attacks and fire.

About three-quarters of its priceless ivories, Graeco-Buddhist sculptures and gold coins, were looted and sold off to unscrupulous foreign dealers. Most of what remained was vandalised by the fundamentalist Taliban who regarded all depictions of the human body and living creatures as defiling their strict brand of Islam. Heads of ancient statues were smashed with sledgehammers and axes.

"I was crying in my heart as I watched the Taliban destroy our beautiful statues," says Shiraz Ali who today is in charge of the museum's restoration department.

"They broke them in front of me but they had guns so all I could do was watch in silence. About 1,000 pieces were reduced to rubble and we can only partially reassemble a few of them."

The most infamous act of Taliban vandalism was the blasting by artillery of two giant Buddhas at Bamiyan in central Afghanistan. A Japanese-funded restoration project is now under way at sites of wall paintings and stucco work in the Bamiyan Valley. But the Buddhas, carved out of a rockface more than 1,600 years ago, are forever lost.

In the 18 months since the overthrow of the Taliban, Kabul Museum's directors have been scouring the country in search of surviving artefacts and antiquities.

The museum itself, a battle-scarred shell of a building on the outskirts of the capital, is being restored. Britain has donated money for the refurbishment of two rooms and the government is looking for other sponsors to help refurbish the rest of the building.

Of all the cultural collections, the National Archive probably fared best under Taliban rule. This was probably due to the fact that the Taliban were largely illiterate and had little interest in the written word.

Despite the ravages of time and mould, the archive's collection has emerged more or less intact from a quarter century of war. Some 12,000 books and 15,000 historical documents are stored in cellars. For the moment, only photocopies are on display but there are plans to show original pieces to the public soon.

Not content with leaving it at that, the archive's directors are trying to expand the collection. In response to an Afghan government appeal for holders of antiquities to offer them for sale, dozens of hopefuls have been turning up at the National Archive in recent weeks, clutching family heirlooms.

It was an anxious wait for Abdul Rasaq as an archive commission examined a collection of Afghan poetry that he said had been in his family for generations. Mr Rasaq, an army man from the time of the King Zahir Shah who was deposed in 1973, said he had sold almost everything he had to put food on the table for his eight children. The book of poems was his last treasured possession and for it he wanted 150,00 afghanis (€2,690). The head of the Archive, Abdul Rasul Mahjor, finally emerged with a figure: 15,000 (€269).

Aghast at being offered a mere tenth of what he believed his book was worth, Mr Rasaq stormed into the commission's office to plead his case. Unimpressed, the commission members refused to raise their price.

"It was a pathetic offer," said Mr Rasaq, whose monthly army pension was only 15 afghanis (28 cent).

"I'm not going to sell my book for nothing."

Others were not so picky. Another elderly man in a turban, Mohammad Ayaz, accepted 1,000 afghanis (€18) for a handwritten Koran that he said had been in his family for generations.

Abdul Ghafar, a younger man in a Pashtun cap, agreed to 12,000 afghanis (€210) for his family Koran.

"I heard the appeal for old books on the radio this week," said Mr Ghafar, a civil servant.

"If I kept the holy book, it would only get damaged. Besides, I need the money."

With the average salary of a civil servant less than €30 a month and beggars thronging the streets outside, most of those turning up at the National Archive are ready to do business. The money for purchases is coming from the national treasury and a German government grant.

The appeal for books and documents is soon to be extended to other art works.

"Most of our purchases are from private collections," says Mr Mahjor, "but it's possible some were stolen. It's impossible to know in Afghanistan these days. A lot of good material is being sold abroad so we're doing our best to preserve what we can."

After so many years of fighting and destruction, the Afghan people are looking towards their cultural heritage to restore their sense of self and of nation. With the future still uncertain, the importance of the past is all the more deeply felt.