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Surrounded by hunks of raw meat, a medical patient, his hands tied with red wires, is haunted by the ghosts of war victims. Their anguished screams speak of the death and torture inflicted on the people of Afghanistan during three decades of war.
The screams resonate with the open-air theatre audience who understand their pain and loss: the first showing of this revived play in Kabul in June was to an audience filled with members of victim’s groups.
Their losses stare back at them in pictures hanging around the stage of their loved ones who died or disappeared during the fighting. Props illustrate the bloodshed and destruction: guns, barbed wire, bits of flesh attracting flies, bottles filled with blood. The past becomes the present, and one girl starts to cry.
Called AH-7808, a reference to the period 1978 to 2008, the play is an adaptation of a story about reconciliation in Northern Ireland, exploring the challenge of truth recovery in a society with a legacy of conflict. Using a medical metaphor, it portrays that the traumas of past conflict are embodied in people and that the truth must be “cut out” to explore how they can deal with this pain and move forward.
Backed by the Afghanistan Independent Human Rights Commission (AIHRC) and UNAMA, the play first toured the country in 2008 attracting international media attention. Now, the Afghanistan Human Rights and Democracy Organization (AHRDO) with the support of the International Center for Transitional Justice (ICTJ) has revived it as part of its “Human Rights Theatre: Creating Spaces for Change” project. The director, Hjalmar Joffre-Eichhorn, explained why:
“The victims really appreciated it - the creation of the space for discussion. Unfortunately, the play will be relevant for many years because transitional justice will most likely be on the agenda for many years to come.”
The play is a one man show. A solitary presence on stage, the patient, Sardar, is tied to seven chairs each containing a jar of blood representing seven victims of violence: a young girl killed by a Mujahiddin car bomb; a Mujahiddin killed fighting Soviet invaders; a Taliban soldier killed in combat in the north fighting for a commander who does not practise what he preaches; a Mujahiddin killed during the civil war; a victim of sectarian violence caught in the wrong place at the wrong time; an innocent bystander killed in a suicide blast; and a civilian shot down by upholders of the law. Appearing as ghosts they possess Sardar. He screams, “Do you want truth?” “You want prosecutions?” “You want justice?” or “Is it revenge you want?” Sardar explores these questions in a one way dialogue with the audience.
For AHRDO, the play is for the victims. Sardar is played by two lay-actors, both members of a victim’s group. The poems spoken by each of the ghosts were recorded by two victim’s groups. Victims were also involved in the design of the set. When the play toured in 2008 some of the venues included historic or damaged buildings. In the Kabul performance, rocks scattered around the stage were from destroyed buildings.
Despite Afghanistan’s current conflicts, new theatre groups and performances have sprung up around the country as a mechanism for social change. AHRDO aims to take this one step further through building Afghan capacity in using theatre methodologies and establishing an all-Afghan platform for participatory theatre. It hopes to open the space for dialogue and reflection and allow people to speak of war time experiences. Some may never have told their story before.
Ultimately, the play sparks debate.
How does Afghanistan come to terms with the legacy of three decades of violent conflict? As the final scene closes, Sardar lines the stage with mirrors, forcing the audience to confront themselves, both metaphorically and literally. A genuine debate follows and the audience give their impressions:
“The hanging meat represents different pieces of the body. Every part of the body needs justice and peace. The people who have died want justice and peace,” said one woman.
One man disagreed:
“I visited four provinces and asked the people what they wanted. Some spoke of justice, but many people just want peace; even if that means amnesty.”
For others it triggers memories of the war:
“I remembered when the Russians came to Herat and took away 40 elders. They beat them, killed them and threw them to the dust. They need their justice. Their families need their justice. We need our justice.”
Human rights and transitional justice theatre is just one part of a much larger process. But, in an environment where war rages and those responsible for gross human rights violations walk free, it exists as one avenue for victims to express their grief and anger.
As Hjalmar concludes:
“People never forget the experience. You can meet them a year or so later and people still talk about it. These are probably the by-products of such an endeavour, which really does hopefully lead into some kind of movement, from tears into energy.”
This article is written by Emily Winterbotham is working on a transitional justice research project for the Afghanistan Research and Evaluation Unit, entitled “Legacies of Conflict: Justice, Reconciliation and Ways Forward.” The project seeks to develop qualitative, in-depth knowledge about the legacies of conflict and perceptions of and desires for justice, peace and reconciliation among Afghans. AREU is an independent research organisation based in Kabul. AREU’s mission is to conduct high-quality research that informs and influences policy and practice.
AREU also actively promotes a culture of research and learning by strengthening analytical capacity in Afghanistan and facilitating reflection and debate. Fundamental to AREU’s vision is that its work should improve Afghan lives. |
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