Cultural Preservation, Collaboration, ...Colonialism?

The New York Times ran a piece about the National Museum in Afghanistan. While your blogger whole-hardheartedly sympathizes with the conservators working so hard to put objects back together, the way the article was presented posed several problems.

The first was the harping on the role of the Taliban in destroying cultural property. The story of the Bamiyan Buddhas is well known, and the idea of destroying centuries old treasures turns the stomach, but focusing on the Taliban obscures and downplays other threats to cultural property. In fact, the article does detail some of the looting:

The looted objects have also been returning, as word has gotten around to customs agents worldwide about how to identify Afghan artifacts. In recent years, Interpol and Unesco have teamed up with governments around the world to interdict and return at least 857 objects — some of them priceless, like 4,000-year-old Bactrian princess figurines that had disappeared from the National Museum. Another 11,000 objects have been returned after being seized by the border authorities at Afghanistan’s own frontiers.

Of course, some of the people destroying certain objects may have been the very same people turning a profit on stolen goods. After all, the Taliban does not hesitate to profit from drug trafficking, even though using drugs is generally considered to be forbidden. Whoever is stealing from the Museum and other institutions, it is a threat that will remain, with or within the Taliban. 

The next troubling point was the emphasis placed on the team from the University of Chicago. Having worked on a museum collection-focused project that included Chicago, the issue is not their expertise or professionalism. Rather, the problem is minimizing the other international teams, and even more importantly, the Afghani professionals. For instance, why don't the French archeological  teams, who apparently did the majority of the work, deserve to be mentioned by name? 

Minimzing the contributions of the Afghani team is an even greater problem. Consider this man:

Afterward, people like Abdullah Hakimzada, a restorer who has spent the past 33 years working at the museum, were on hand to sweep up the fragments of the objects that the Taliban smashed — sorting many of them hurriedly into sacks and boxes that later would help the reassembly work.

Imagine spending more than three decades, almost all of it during wartime, working at something that requires great skill, concentration, and more than likely, great personal sacrifice. The others mentioned by name in the article (Mohammad Yahyeh Muhibzada and Omara Khan Masoudi) likely demonstrate similar commitment and Mr. Muhibzada (the archivist) probably has specialized training. The write-up seemed to overly exoticize the Afghan Museum and to paint its staff as colorful characters, rather than professionals. 

This view has been overly present in reporting about looting and museums, as reported in the NYT and elsewhere. It's easy to draw a parallel with the Timbuktu manuscripts. And it taps into an attitude toward cultural property that assumes the residents of the countries from which is comes are unable to appreciate its worth and need an outsider to do the work or make them realize its importance.

The reality is more complicated than that. From a strictly technical viewpoint, their training and materials may not measure up to the prevailing international standard. Many of these workers are acutely aware of this. And they are also aware of the threats to these treasured objects in dangerous situations. Refering to objects on tour in Europe, Mr. Hakimzada said, "I personally hope they never return. At least where they are now, we know they are safe.” 

And yet, they are equally aware of their importance. Mr Muhibzada's statement is clear: “Archaeological artifacts are our national identity. It’s our national responsibility to protect them so future generations will know who we are and who we were.”

The Western view of Afghanistan (and other current war zones, like Mali) is a reductive one, composed mostly of tribesmen, misery and lawlessness. Calling the Museum's collections "relics" plays into this idea. It assumes that the culture in museums is the only one worth saving. As I am lucky enough to work in a large university library, I am aware of the works of literature that Afghan authors have managed to publish over the past fifteen years. Thanks to Twitter, I know of many courageous people in Mali who are tremendously dedicated both to expanding education and to preserving cultural artifacts. 

Certainly, these countries suffer from poverty, war, and lack of educational and cultural resources. The people there do not need outsiders to point out these deficits. But they also don't need to be viewed as uncultured and backward. In the United States (or in France, where I have also lived) there may be a high level of official culture, but there are plenty of social problems as well. It's unfair and arrogant to adopt such a condescending attitude towards the cultural production and preservation happening elsewhere in the world.

Some of the other problems with the article are not speciic to the situation in Afghanistan, but are instead gripes with the way the media portrays museums and conservation. And let's pay attention to the term I used; restoration and conservation are not really the same thing. 

Since I have been working since my undergraduate days in related fields, I may be especially sensitive to how this work is described. And yet, insisting on employing the correct term is directly germane to the issues raised in this article. Conservators subscribe to a code of ethics, they do not put something in an object that was not there before, nor do they intentionally erase anything original. And they treat every object with the same respect, from priceless national treasures to family documents. And this outlook was clear from the comments made by the National Museum's staff.

Finally, it is important to address the idea of professional exchange and collaboration as it was portrayed in the article and more widely in the field. Differing levels of professional training exist around the globe. It is wonderful to be able to benefit from other practitioners' expertise and I know personally of wonderful collaborations that have taken place around the world. However, I am also aware of others that have gone less well. In order to be successful, it is imperative to approach the situation with the right attitude. An experienced practitioner can share his or her skills, but everyone brings something to the plate. The contribution of the Chicago and French teams is important, but the Afghan staff are not empty vessels.

This is something about which I have very strong feelings. I hope to see less of this hierarchical, one-directional understanding of Culture, and instead see a more inclusive view emerge. I believe that this change in attitude may also serve to diminish future destruction of cultural property, by breaking down unnecessary barriers and feelings of resentment from people who have felt slighted.
 

Who gets to interpret religion?

Hannah Armstrong, who is a Institute of Current World Affairs fellow in the Sahel and someone your blogger follow enthusiastically on Twitter (@HannahHaniya), wrote another interesting piece on Mali in the New York Times.

She contrasts the violent, authoritarian attitude of the various jihadi groups in Northern Mali with the gentler tactics of the High Council of Islam:

who uniformly decry violence and defend the importance of working alongside the Malian state — unlike the jihadis up north. And unlike the Gulf-inspired radicalism of those jihadis, the H.C.I. groups together Muslims of wide-ranging ideologies. Some represent the local brand of Sufism, for which music, fetishes and gender mixing are quite ordinary; others subscribe to the conservative Wahhabi strain of Islam, an import from Saudi Arabia.

While some of the comments on her piece took issue with the statements of one of the cheikhs she interviewed, the role that religion takes in public life is an important and complicated issue, throughout the MENA region (and related territories, like Mali). The controversy in Mali over celebrating the Prophet Muhammad's birthday mirrors similar tensions elsewhere, much as religious firebrands destroy saints' mausoleums from Timbuktu to Tunis.

While recent turmoil in Egypt has tarnished Western views of the Muslim Brotherhood, this doesn't mean that religious leaders can't play a useful and constructive role in the civil society of Muslim countries. However, these leaders are a varied group and there is no single version of what Islam is, or how religion and politics should co-exist. Hannah's points are interesting, and the questions her piece raises about the Arab-centric nature of Muslim discourse and its racist undercurrents warrant further investigation:

One Malian recently tweeted ... : “These Arab Islamists are racists for they only conceive of Islam as being by Arabs, blacks are just second class.” He, like most black southern Malians, who overwhelmingly support the intervention, do not grant Arab countries a monopoly on the interpretation of Islam. They favor their own version, leavened by pluralism and compromise-seeking.

What's going on in Mali?

If Kal at the Moor Next Door can post first thoughts in response to something, your blogger thinks she can too.

Every day seems to bring new news about the coup in Mali, so any definitive view is premature. So far, coverage has mostly been negative.  Latest reports also indicate that in addition to sanctions by fellow West African nations, the coup leaders lost control of Timbuktu to the Tuareg rebels. 

Here are the main thoughts, which will be developed later:

1. Is this really so surprising? Things have been getting out of hand in Mali for a while, but regional focus had been on Wade in Senegal and his desire to extend his term.

2. Foreign Policy had a blog post asking "Why are coups always led by colonels?" but specifically in West Africa, there are even more junior officers: Rawlings in Ghana, Tolbert in Liberia was ousted by privates and NCOs, Thomas Sankara was a captain...

3. Noise has been made about US training of the coup leaders. That might be important or it might not. Lots of people do military training in the US, because the US has facilities and resources. It doesn't automatically make every trainee a US agent, any more than doing a post-doc at CERN commands a scientist to work forever exclusively for Switzerland's benefit.

Finally, your blogger has been doing a lot of catch-up background reading. However, she'll need to bump up Why Nations Fail since it's just been mentioned by Tom Friedman and therefore will probably be hugely popular with library patrons.

FESPACO Winner Screening in Philadelphia

I recently attended a screening of the film "Da Monzon" by Sidi Diabaté. This film won the FESPACO prize this year in the feature film category. The event was supposed to have a discussion with Diabaté, but unfortunately he had to return to Mali. Luckily, he has given interviews, which help me to better understand the film.

"Da Monzon" is a historical film, depicting the Segu kingdom in the former half of the 19^th Century. A son succeeds his father and begins expanding his territory. He is particularly focused on overcoming Bassi, a nearby Fulani king.The film follows his quest to expand his kingdom through political maneuvering, clever ruses, and military campaigns.

Between the Modern Languages program at Penn, the Ritz theaters in Philadelphia, and several years of living in France, I've had the opportunity to see a large variety of films by Francophone directors. As far as I recall, this is the first film that I've seen from West Africa of the historical epic genre. It was thrilling to see names and places I knew from books come to life on screen. The details of the settings, as well as the dazzling variety of clothing and objects, were amazing to see. Were I to have been able to speak with Diabaté, I would have liked to know his sources for these objects, since they date from before the invention of photography.

While the film was very enjoyable, it was also very one-sided. The narrative was engaging, but although the action did switch to Bassi's kingdom, it did not investigate his motives, nor how or why he had defeated Da's father. This is a common drawback to historical films; in order to make them interesting, they flatten some of the events and don't show or investigate the complexity of the historical events themselves. Similar examples are "Lion of the Desert," "Lawrence of Arabia," and "Gandhi". There's nothing wrong with this flattening in terms of story-telling, but since these films are sometimes the only encounter viewers have with the history they depict, it leads to an overly simplified understanding of history and a tendency to idealize the past.

Another interesting aspect to the film was the representation of relationships and reciprocity. I'm familiar with the idea of “caste” in West African societies and also the function of people occupying the position of “griot” to question, tease and deliver bad news. There's even a scene where the “griot” figure is faced with an angry person and shouts “You cannot kill a casted man!” The depiction of women in the film was also striking. Da routinely consults a matriarch figure and seeks advice from her. The representation of the character Niyale, who is sent to seduce and trick Bassi is also remarkable, especially when she discusses being selected for this mission with her husband and parents. The status of women in West Africa is complex today, so there is no reason to suppose it was not complex 200 years ago, but it was nonetheless notable that Diabaté chose to include these scenes. 

 

Additionally, the film highlighted the complexity of the pre-colonial religious landscape, including both Islamic and varied indigenous beliefs and the king seeking support from multiple different religious leaders. It is easy to fall into the error of thinking that because the centers of Islamic learning Timbuktu and Djenné are in Mali that Islam is the main religious reference, so the film served as a helpful reminder of Mali's diversity. If Diabaté had been able to attend the screening, I would have liked to ask him if he was trying to make any kind of point by highlighting this diversity.

Film and definitions of identity through film are a huge interest of mine. Da Monzon's win at FESPACO is not only a great honor for Mali and also and important encouragement for the arts in Mali, but also an opportunity for West Africans to consider their historical past and how they relate to these historical heroic figures. I was very grateful for the opportunity to see the film here in Philadelphia and disappointed not to be able to have a conversation with Diabaté, but it certainly adds another facet to my understanding of West Africa.