In August 2021, the United States began its withdrawal from Afghanistan after two decades of occupation. The heartbreaking photos and videos that have surfaced online have shown the unrest that has long been forced on poor and working class families. Within weeks, the Taliban had regained control of every major city in the country, prompting critics to wonder what we were really doing there. Since then, the mainstream media has moved and the Bush Doctrine continues to go unheeded, but hundreds of thousands of everyday people remain in a long-term state of displacement.
For Afghan artists, these developments are not sudden. Since 2019, many have fled the country for fear of persecution, citing the Taliban’s reputation for banning non-religious art, stealing national museums, and hanging performers. This dilemma is at the heart of the online exhibition Before the Silence, curated by Art at a Time Like This and PEN America’s Artists at Risk Connection. Nine contemporary artists reflect on their plight as refugees with targets behind their backs.
Some of the most devastating photos from the withdrawal showed crowds gathered at Kabul’s airport. Photo story by Naseer Turkmani Khuda Hafiz, May God be with you (2021) shows such a scene. A U.S. soldier stands on a high ledge over a divided sea of people; the accompanying text refers to the presence of writers, artists, actors, and photographers. Turkmani said the explosions ripped through these crowds and killed 90 people just two days later. Thus, life in Afghanistan becomes more fragile under American supervision, with a thin ditch between the squads symbolizing a superficial sense of protection.
Border imperialism has left the immigration process full of bureaucracy around the world, slowing down visa applications and forcing refugees into detention centers. Because of Western propaganda against Afghanistan, migrants often provide different identities to avoid orientalist stereotyping. In his photo series Tell Me Who I Am (2018), Shamayel Shalizi snapped several self-portraits in costumes, showing strangers ’absurd interpretations of her identity. Shalizi appears as a suicide bomber, a soldier in camo, a mafia wife in velor, and an underwear model, among others. Despite his great camouflage, his tattoo on the arm of a woman carrying a black flag remains a dead giveaway to his radical politics.
In recent years, collective art-making practices have emerged as a measure of protection against identity and persecution. Grassroots group ArtLords promotes socially engaged street art in the style of Banksy, leads protest demonstrations, hosts group performances, and paints murals on barricades around cultural sites. targeted for terrorist attacks. Last year, three members were killed by an improvised explosive device, and the surviving members survived under constant threat from the Taliban even during the occupation – all while struggling with the US -backed Afghan government. . Their graphic designs point to omnipresent geopolitical tensions, from a flag stating that the Taliban is “Made in Pakistan” to a picture of the Twin Towers with Arabic written on it.
Rada Akbar’s video of an “exhibition” for murdered artists, journalists, and activists speaks to the meaning of political freedom under a heteropatriarchal order. “The world doesn’t seem to be shaking anymore as our human bodies successively crumble,” he announces in a room of vacant seats, as if in emptiness. “Our stories were denied by the same people who came here to fight terrorism and said they would save Afghan women.” True, the storm of cable news promoting feminism in Afghanistan briefly captured the hearts of Americans, but it disappeared into these channels quickly. Considering everything we know about U.S. and NATO efforts to dismantle Afghan self-determination, any official admission of wrongdoing would be significant to Afghans and Americans. Today, George W. Bush and Dick Cheney remain hailed as the patriarchs of liberal democracy.
Before the Silence: Afghan Artists in Exile can be seen online. The exhibition is curated by Art in a Period Like This and Artists in Risk Connection.
