Pellegrinelli focuses on the newly established Afghanistan National Institute of Music (ANIM) headed by Ahmad Sarmast and the impact of music in Afghan society.

The piece is a feel good story that sheds light on the music of Afghanistan that continues to thrive, despite being oppressed by Islamists.

Pellegrinelli quotes Ahmad Sarmast and two top Western experts on Afghan music, Lorraine Sakata, professor emeritus of ethnomusicology at UCLA and John Baily, professor emeritus of ethnomusicology at Goldsmiths, University of London. Yet the her story misses and misrepresents a number of key facts.

Here are four that prominently standout:

1. Ahmad Sarmast’s late father, Salim Sarmast, was a renowned composer, orchestra conductor and teacher at the Musical High School of Kabul, which had a long history in Afghanistan. The Afghanistan National Institute of Music isn’t the first music school in Afghanistan. Ahmad Sarmast is courageously taking musical education to a higher level.

2. True, the Afghan refugee camps inside Pakistan were run by mullahs. But the story fails to mention that these camps were also under the watchful eyes of the CIA/ISI backed Islamists, mujaheddin or “Freedom Fighters” as labeled by Ronald Reagan, who funded and used them to give the USSR their Vietnam in Afghanistan. These fundamentalists were the first to ban music. The Taliban simply followed their practice and razed to the ground what was left, including the failed attempt to destroy the entire musical archives of Radio TV Afghanistan and Afghan Films.

3. Labeling Ahmad Zahir as the “Afghan Elvis” misrepresents his music, message and talent. In the Western comparative, he was a combination of John Lennon, Johnny Cash and Dean Martin. Zahir was a politically motivated artist. The majority of his songs were autobiographical. Sadly, Pellegrinelli isn’t the first to label Zahir the “Afghan Elvis”.

4. Finally, Pellegrinelli writes “today’s Kabul looks like a city from the Stone Age”. I’m not sure if Pellegrinelli has recently visited Kabul. If not, she should have viewed this BBC photo essay “Kabul rises again”. One photo shows a music shop selling the latest electric guitars.

Perhaps Pellegrinelli had a restricted word count or a conservative Wall Street Journal editor that didn’t allow her to address everything.

Unfortunately, a number of Western publications continue to spread misinformed history and analysis on Afghanistan. To all writers and editors out there, please do your homework before you write about a country’s history and culture. It helps us all.

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Atiq Rahimi’s The Patience Stone is a brutally frank, painfully truthful novel, and not a book to be appreciated by readers who believe in Afghans’ own myths about themselves.

Set in the civil war years that followed an illusionary victory over the Soviet Red Army, the book deals with a period that is doubtless the most painful era of Afghanistan’s recent history. A period in which the people of Afghanistan were robbed of their right to take pride in the country’s struggle against the Soviet occupation, and were instead thrown into a fierce but meaningless civil war. The true face of the jihad, as a brutal, meaningless and directionless power-struggle between egocentric men was revealed in that period.

The civil war that took place in that period was devoid of any dignity, moral justification or regard for civilian lives. It lasted for four years, between 1992 and 1996, and uncovered the myths that had surrounded the jihad since its inception in 1978. Courage was revealed as cowardliness; honor turned out to be dishonor; vigor was unmasked as sheer brutality; and God turned out to be a mere excuse for brutality.

The Patient Stone courageously dissects this period of Afghan history, and in doing so, fulfills the purpose of art as a mirror reflecting the collective tragedy of a nation.

Reading the book has a cathartic effect, leaving the reader exhausted and yet relieved. The Patience Stone is a therapeutic book but without the sugarcoating and sentimentalism of Khalid Hosseini’s bestseller novels. As such, Atiq Rahimi is following in the footsteps of Albert Camus, another francophone author and voice of a generation.

But perhaps the most satisfactory aspect of this book is the fact that in this age of obsessive concern with representational authenticity, Atiq Rahimi proves that great art is still about the power of imagination and the capacity for empathy and that in order to write a truthful book about the innermost secrets of female sexuality, the author does not need to be female himself.

As such, The Patience Stone is an homage to the women of Afghanistan, who, like the female protagonist of the book, are fragile yet resilient, oppressed yet courageous. They are the Afghan wars’ most wretched, innocent victims and yet they haven’t lost their capacity for love, truth and understanding. The Patience Stone deserves to be read in silent contemplation but it is not a book for the faint-hearted.

• Dialogue with Atiq Rahimi
  By Nadia Ali Maiwandi, AfghanMagazine.com, November 2004
• Breaking with the Language of Taboo
  By Martin Gerne, Qantara.de

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My Response
Really? So it was a good thing to imprison women, conduct ethnic cleansing, destroy the cultural heritage of Afghanistan and rewind the clock back to 4th century Arabia in the name of “Pashtunwali” and a “united” Afghanistan by force?

From the latest polls, less than 10% of the country wants the Taliban back because they were a cruel regime.

Simple fact, Afghanistan was never seen as a partner in the eyes of the US, and it dates back to the first diplomatic encounter between the two countries.

Reading your passé viewpoints, you must have been a young man during the Harding administration and should remember the Secretary of State, Charles E. Hughes.

He encouraged President Harding to reject diplomatic ties with the visiting Afghan diplomatic mission in July 1921:

“The commercial opportunities for our people in Afghanistan indicates that they are extremely limited; in fact, so far as our present information goes, there is little or no opportunity for trade.” –Charles E. Hughes, The Secretary of State to President Harding

Forward to today’s “progressive” Obama politics, where Sen. John Kerry comments on the war criminal infested culture that has polluted Afghanistan, ”Not all warlords are bad.”

If Karzai doesn’t work for the US, then we can always turn to a military dictatorship as the old Reaganite’s Bing West writes in today’s NY Times.

Outdated, Cold War thinking has created this bloody mess.

Why can’t the US do the right thing?

Karzai is one branch of the Afghan government. There are two other branches that can also partner with the US. And there are plenty of young professionals and politicians that don’t have blood on their hands.

Yet, these and other progressive options aren’t considered.

Commonly heard is bring back the Taliban, keep the war-criminals/lords as clients and consult with regional powers (i.e Pakistan).

In the sea of barking pundits, no one asks what the normal people throughout Afghanistan want.

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Sulyman Qardash (vocals/guitars), Siddique Ahmed (bass) and Mujtaba Habibi (drums) at the ruins of Darlaman Palace in Kabul

KABUL — Perhaps nothing best describes youth angst like a song entitled “I Wanna’ Run Away,” one of several original numbers performed by Kabul Dreams in a live concert held last week at the American University of Afghanistan. With no other lyrics except the title refrain, lead singer and guitarist Sulyman Qardash alternately sang and screamed into the mic a sentence that probably resonates even more so with Afghanistan’s youth.

Some people will tell you that Afghans don’t live in a context where they can act like “teenagers” and rebel against their families and society (‘Do they even want to?,’ some have wondered), but of course they certainly feel the same emotions. Who better to express it than a rock band? Standing there and watching the crowd of enthusiastic AUA students it struck me that the song was also apropos of so much more. When Qardash sings about running away you’re reminded that scores of young Afghans do run away to Europe or elsewhere every day in search of education or decent jobs.

A crowd of about 200 people cheered on Afghanistan’s newest rock band, which was established a year ago. Qardash’s mic was low and there was too much feedback from the amplifiers at times, but that didn’t ruin their performance or diminish their individual talents. Drummer Mujtaba Habibi showed off his skills in a couple sets with solo routines and bassist Siddique Ahmed, who’s sometimes called Sid, definitely held his own too. As for Qardash, the front man appeared to be having fun while impressing with his guitar riffs and vocals.

All three band members were born in Afghanistan, but lived in neighboring countries for several years. Habibi was in Iran, while Ahmed lived in Pakistan. Qardash grew up in Uzbekistan and was a relative late comer returning to Afghanistan in 2008. All three came from musical backgrounds, with Habibi for example playing in a band that was into pop rock and pop latin music. “When I came to Kabul, I was looking for people who were into music and I was introduced to Mujtaba through a friend,” Ahmed said in an interview with AfghanMagazine.

“We got together and started working in a small studio where we practiced on our own, and recorded and produced songs for some new artists.

“Sulyman was introduced to us through another friend by chance, and when we got to know each other, we thought, why not start a band, so the triangle was completed and Kabul Dreams was [born].” While the band’s logo is similar to the Dead Kennedys’, their sound is indie rock, inspired by British bands. Like “I Wanna Run Away,” the band’s other songs, with topics like love and failed romance, have bittersweet overtones.

“This next song is called Julie,” Ahmed said. “I think everyone has had a Julie in their lives.” The crowd roared their agreement.

It being Afghanistan, the girls sat demurely on the sidelines while a large group of young men stood center stage waving their hands, jumping and dancing.

“I’m part of the first mosh pit in Afghanistan,” one concert-goer was heard saying.

The university’s faculty acted as cheerleaders and chaperones, some dancing to the music and reminding you of how you used to giggle uncomfortably when your teachers tried to look cool at your high school dances, which is what the whole event felt like even though the crowd was a bit older. The band performed several covers, including an endearing rendition of “Wonderwall” by Oasis and “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door” by Bob Dylan with Ahmed encouraging everyone to sing along to the latter. No one really did of course because Bollywood, not rock’n’roll, is on most people’s playlists still.

A few people around me, namely other Afghan-Americans, wondered how soon these guys would receive death threats from the Taliban. Whatever else, everything in Afghanistan is intensely political. It’s never easy to forget where you are, like a nice gym paid for by U.S. taxpayers at an institution that’s intended to educate an elite set. Beyond the post-9/11 black and white world view (the Taliban vs. rock’n’roll) I wondered if people regarded a band’s artistic dreams and ability to express itself as solemnly as let’s say poverty.

It’s too soon to claim that Kabul Dreams echoes the voice of a generation, but one thing that was clear that night is the energy of Afghanistan’s young people (68% the population is under the age of 25).

Maybe another Dylan classic would have said it better: Times they are a-changin’.

Farhad Azad contributed to this review.

Photos from the concert at The American University of Afghanistan (AUAF)

The American University of Afghanistan (AUAF) (photo by H. David Shaw)

The American University of Afghanistan (AUAF), (photo by H. David Shaw)

Sulyman Qardash, (photo by Travis Beard/Argus)

Siddique Ahmed, (photo by Travis Beard/Argus)

Mujtaba Habibi, (photo by Travis Beard/Argus)

AfghanMagazine: So Sid, is there a Nancy?
Sid: There’s always Nancys, Julies, Jessicas and so on! However, this is Afghanistan so basically you know what I’m saying!

AfghanMagazine: We are Old School. What do you think of Stars, the Ahmad Zahir rock band? Do you consider them an influence?
Sid: Stars were probably one of the best bands we ever had in Afghanistan. Although they were influenced by the classic rock bands of the time, the music they played was not rock, it was a kind of fusion played with drums and guitars at which they were pretty good. Our influences are mostly British Indie rock bands, mostly new ones.

AfghanMagazine: Your peers download Bollywood ringtones at an alarming rate. Do you think English rock will find a place amid these types of traditional preferences?
Sid: Even Bollywood is now influenced by rock! It’s just the matter of time, very soon the most popular ring tone will be “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door”!

AfghanMagazine: Who’s your favorite rock’n'roll personality, and why?
Sid: We all have our favorites. Mine is Paul McCartney because he’s one of the best songwriters of all time.

AfghanMagazine: Do you guys play Guitar Hero?
Sid: We play guitars, so there’s hardly time for any guitar hero!

AfghanMagazine: What about your female fans? They seemed a bit restrained at your AUA show. Do you think the type of songs you write resonate with them?
Sid: They like our songs, that is what all matters to us. Girls are restrained not only at AUA show but all over Afghanistan for many reasons. Our songs are mostly about love, relationships, friendship, peace, etc.. so I think they do resonate with them.

AfghanMagazine: Do you foresee any competition from an Afghan all girl rock band in the near future?
Sid: We definitely foresee a competition from an Afghan rock band, but an all girl rock band would definitely be hard to compete with!

AfghanMagazine: What was your reaction to the overwhelming support from the audience at the South Asia Bands Festival in India?
Sid: It was an exciting experience! The fact that they appreciated our music and were thrilled by it was a sign that what we started was something that we could be proud of. And what matters most to us is that we tried so hard to get there, on our own, without any support, facing difficulties on some basic things like lack of electricity, a place to practice … And now all our efforts were yielding the fruit!

AfghanMagazine: What I love about Afghanistan is ….
Sid: The fact that in spite of the problems and issues it has, you can’t be away from it for too long!

AfghanMagazine: What I don’t like about Afghanistan is …
Sid: The suicide attacks!

AfghanMagazine: Where do you see your band in 10 years from now?
Sid: At the Grammy award show, or probably a celebration after we have won [an award]!

AfghanMagazine: Where do you see the country in 10 years from now?
Sid: The country will probably have figured out a better security system by then. Wearing a life vest and traveling with armored vehicles might be part of the visa requirements!

AfghanMagazine: I used to play a short-scale bass. Think we can jam sometime? Just kidding. I haven’t played in 12 years. Rock on, Kabul Dreams.
Sid: We can play guitar hero together sometimes and don’t worry, I suck at it!

AfghanMagazine: Any last words to our readers?
Sid: Stay tuned for our first album coming up soon! And one more thing: RoCk oN!!!

“Can you Fly”

“Sound of Peace & Love” (free download)

“Take Me Away” (free download)

“This Night” featuring Lerock (free download)

Checkout more of Kabul Dreams

• Facebook Fan Page
• Twritter
• Official Website

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The Activist

Women’s rights and anti-fundamentals activities Malalai Joya’s has written her account in A Woman Among Warlords: The Extraordinary Story of an Afghan Who Dared to Raise Her Voice.

Publisher’s excerpt:

While many have talked about the serious plight of women in Afghanistan, Malalai Joya takes us inside the country and shows us the desperate day to-day situations these remarkable people face at every turn. She recounts some of the many acts of rebellion that are helping to change the country — the women who bravely take to the streets in peaceful protest against their oppression; the men who step forward and claim I am her mahram, so the fundamentalists won’t punish a woman for walking alone; and the families that give their basements as classrooms for female students.

A controversial political figure in one of the most dangerous places on earth, Malalai Joya is a hero for our times, a young woman who refused to be silent, a young woman committed to making a difference in the world, no matter the cost.

Find it on Amazon

The Mullah

Abdul Salam Zaeef, a senior former member of the Taliban, has written about his life in My Life with the Taliban.

Publisher’s except:

His memoirs, translated from Pashto, are more than just a personal account of his extraordinary life. “My Life with the Taliban” offers a counter-narrative to the standard accounts of Afghanistan since 1979. Zaeef describes growing up in rural poverty in Kandahar province. Both of his parents died at an early age, and the Russian invasion of 1979 forced him to flee to Pakistan. He started fighting the jihad in 1983, during which time he was associated with many major figures in the anti-Soviet resistance, including the current Taliban head Mullah Mohammad Omar. After the war Zaeef returned to a quiet life in a small village in Kandahar, but chaos soon overwhelmed Afghanistan as factional fighting erupted after the Russians pulled out. Disgusted by the lawlessness that ensued, Zaeef was one among the former mujahidin who were closely involved in the discussions that led to the emergence of the Taliban, in 1994. Zaeef then details his Taliban career as civil servant and minister who negotiated with foreign oil companies as well as with Afghanistan’s own resistance leader, Ahmed Shah Massoud.

Zaeef was ambassador to Pakistan at the time of the 9/11 attacks, and his account discusses the strange ‘phoney war’ period before the US-led intervention toppled the Taliban. In early 2002 Zaeef was handed over to American forces in Pakistan, notwithstanding his diplomatic status, and spent four and a half years in prison (including several years in Guantanamo) before being released without having been tried or charged with any offence. “My Life with the Taliban” offers a personal and privileged insight into the rural Pashtun village communities that are the Taliban’s bedrock. It helps to explain what drives men like Zaeef to take up arms against the foreigners who are foolish enough to invade his homeland.

Find it on Amazon

Now, we are waiting for an autobiography from a centrist political figure.

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It’s quince season, or as the fruit is called in Afghanistan, “bee”. It’s not an Afghan dish per se, and I don’t know if all Afghan families make this jam, but my grandmother and mother traditionally do.

I have a quince tree in my backyard here in Kabul, which inspired this note. Raw, quince is a bitter, strange fruit, but it smells lovely. Cooked, it makes a great jam that tastes amazing with fresh, homemade Afghan bread (or muffins and croissants). Quince jam reminds me of Sunday mornings in California when my mom bakes fresh bread, which she serves with homemade jams stored in preserved jars.

You might be able to find quince jam and jellies in speciality shops in the States sold as something French or British, but I think quince is more prevalent in the greater Central Asian region.

I have to warn you. I don‘t make the applesauce version, nor am I a fan of quince jelly. My quince jam, like my mom’s, is chunky and messy.

Ingredients you will need:

• Some quince
• Caster sugar (to taste)
• Cardamom pods or fresh ground cardamom

Directions:

I don’t peel my quince (the skin will melt and become soft during the cooking process). I scrub them well until the fuzz is gone. Just like an apple, quarter and core them to remove the seeds. Dice into chewable, tiny squares, or grate with a cheese grater. Transfer to a pot, and cover with water, but not too much, just so that they are submerged. Bring to a boil for about 30 minutes. Then let rest for another 30 minutes. Next, drain the liquid and discard.

Now add sugar to the quince and one cup of water over medium heat. Generally you can add one part sugar to two parts fruit. You have to stir frequently (quince jam is a labor of love). Add cardamom pods and some fresh ground cardamom to taste. Let the quince simmer over the heat until its color changes. At the end stage, your quince will look pink with black flecks of cardamom sprinkled throughout.  You’ll know your jam is ready when the excess water is gone and you have a semi thick consistency.

Serve with butter, bread and some black chai.

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First off, I have no identity issues about my hyphenated nationality. I was recently called a “foreign Afghan” (khariji afghan-ul-‘asl) by the Ministry of Information and Culture — it was a pithy effort to undermine me, and therefore the credibility of an electoral media monitoring project that I manage that has been critical of the state media.

Yesterday, a colleague who noticed my ink-stained finger asked why I don’t respond to the minister and prove him wrong. I have nothing to prove. I am an Afghan. I was born here. My mother, my grandmothers and great-grandmothers were born here. Apart from my mother, these women did not learn to read and write, and they gave birth to generations in their homes, placing their faith in God and the women around them. So I don’t lose sleep over the minister’s lackeys trying to define who I am.

I registered for a voter card in 2004, before the first presidential election when I worked as a journalism trainer and freelance reporter during a summer break from graduate school. I dug it out months ago just to see if I still had it, and then I misplaced it in a stack of books. I didn’t plan on voting. I was going to be tied up in the office with the media monitoring, and all the paranoia about polling station security made voting a non-issue.

At the last moment, in a surge of my own ever-present naivety and optimism, I voted. Part of it was the reporter in me. How can I not see a polling station during a historical election? Part of it was the woman in me. What if my children ask me where I was during the 2009 presidential election? And part of it was my sense of civic responsibility. After all, I even voted in California county and state elections.

I went to Lycee Zarghoona, an all-girl’s high school around the corner from my rented home. The polling station was nearly empty. When I entered the women’s voting area, there was only one other voter in the room, a middle-aged woman who bravely took a provincial council ballot as well (there were more than 300 candidates in Kabul, and the ballot was stapled together like an oversized booklet).

A teenage poll worker dipped my finger into the disputed indelible ink and another handed me a folded presidential ballot. Once inside the booth, I didn’t linger. Candidate, check.

Today, two days after the election, I’m asking myself, why did I vote? I don’t believe in national myths, even if those myths are necessary. I don’t believe that people power rests in voting. In fact, I believe that after the armed revolution or peaceful resistance, the dream dies and reality, that is to say corruption and compromise, follow. And that’s not pessimistic. The struggle and conflict is the romance and the rest is human nature.

Plus, this is no organic democracy, thought that’s irrelevant, as the International Community claims. It’s an imperfect vote in an obviously imperfect country, and free and fair is relative. One could write an entire book about Orientalism & the Afghan elections.

Meanwhile, many Afghans will just continue to call democracy, “da-mor-kussy,” which is not a quaint Afghan pronunciation. It means, literally, your mom’s (blank) in Pashto.

So while I don’t have an identity issue, I have contradiction issues. I don’t believe that voting will bring change to Afghanistan, or at least the kind of changes that are absolutely necessary now. Afghans are keen politicians, but the political machinations taking place now are sad, like a baser version of a Shakespearean play. To be unorthodox is impossible in Afghanistan. To be, God forbid, independent is foolish. To be conniving and clever, in contrast, is smart.

So in an election where voter cards were bought, traded and fabricated (Britney Jamilah Spears’ voter card, resident of Kandahar, comes to mind), and where ballot stuffing existed, and where the only plausible rival wears Armani suits that cost more than an average Afghan’s annual income, what was the point? Did I participate in a farce, or did I participate in an event that in the long term will be (mis)labeled as revolutionary? Both prospects depress me.

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In the 90 years since Amanullah Shah led and won Afghanistan’s right for self-determination from the British, Afghanistan’s history has taken some good and ill turns.

The Afghanistan of today was not in Amanullah Shah’s remotest vision. And we could wonder what he would have thought about the recent presidential elections—the winner yet to be determined.

To commemorate this anniversary, it is befitting to see Farhad Darya’s new music video recorded on the ruins of Amanullah Shah’s palace—bombed, burned and looted by the same people that run the current government of Afghanistan. Darya sings the late Qahar Asi’s poem “My Beloved Land”.

Here is the poem’s translation by Dr. Sherief Fayez, the Founding President of the American University of Afghanistan, we published back in October 1999:

My Beloved Land

My beloved land
My dream, my conviction
My honored blasphemy and religion
My seventh heaven

What a valiant people!
What sun! What fire!
Rising like the Resurrection,
No obstacle to their will
Not mountain nor hill.

Across the land
Passionately they scream:
Martyrdom and determination!

No house without a Rustem
That great warrior
No fortress without an Arash,
That great archer

What a brave nation!
What a proud people!
Let the dust of their footpath
Be an honor on my temple!

– Qahar Asi, Kabul 1987

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Last month, there was a positive shift in Kabul where close to 20 hours of electricity is available for most citizens thanks to a power line from Uzbekistan.

But what about the rest of the country, specially the rural areas? And what about green energy? Afghanistan has plenty of sun, rivers and wind that can produce clean, efficient energy.

Wind Power

This news report covers a small wind farm in Panjsher developed by the US. But instead of powering people’s homes, it powers the governor’s office. And that isn’t the only surprise.

Solar Power

Can Afghanistan invest in solar farms? If so, when can it be ready? I think we shouldn’t hold our breath.

In the mean time, on a grass roots level, there could be creative ways to harness the sun’s power.

Jennifer McCarthy runs the blog WaterFlows. She raised money through her “living on a $1 a day” campaign. With the funds, McCarthy financed the construction of a much needed well in the village of Ahmadabad in Faryab province.

Aside from clear water, the villagers requested access to electricity. Getting a power line to the village is a major challenge– most likely due to the thick red tape within the Afghan government. And it would cost an estimated $35,000 to get full solar panels for each household.

So she purchased two inexpensive solar mats that provide enough power to charge a cell phone or lamp batteries to light a room.

A resident of Ahmadbad charging his cell phone with a portable solar mat. Photo by Jennifer McCarthy

How can each village household have access to his own solar panel mat? One idea is to subsidize the cost. Until a major green energy initiative can deliver, could this be one interim solution to solve the most basic needs of the rural population?

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Since the fall of the Taliban in 2001, higher education in Afghanistan has remarkably flourished with the revitalization of Kabul University, creation of The American University of Afghanistan and the establishment of private colleges. This enthusiasm for higher education is fueled by a new generation of Afghans ardent to learn and excel in the modern world.

Here is a rare CNN interview with Afghan professionals in Kabul, including a young female law professor from The American University of Afghanistan. The reporter, Atia Abawi, is of Afghan descent, perhaps a reason why we are hearing from this group rather than older, out of touch government officials and technocrats.

They are hopeful that things could change under President Obama, but are looking for quick positive actions.

You have to agree that now is time for the West to begin fostering partnerships with this new generation of secular and educated Afghans who could be future leaders of Afghanistan.

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