As an Afghan, I grew up with a deep appreciation for poetry from a young age. It’s a big part of my culture, and we take it very seriously. But how have social issues impacted the use of poetry in my country and culture?
Poetry’s Role in Resistance
I’ll begin with a conversation that I shared with my dear uncle years ago, where we discussed how love and poetry have changed in irreversible ways.
“Love?” he said. “In the past, you would see a woman on a hilltop, in a different village, with a red scarf, and you would have to work so hard to find and court her. Today, you can swipe right for love. Poetry, like love, has changed.”
Poetry was originally a form of expression for those who didn’t have freedom of speech. It was a creative solution; a craft that was mastered out of the lack of freedom. When poets would write about the rabbit and fox, they weren’t actually talking about a rabbit or fox. They were talking about social issues. They were talking about corruption, classism, politics, poverty, and so forth. You didn’t need an education to be a poet, and in fact, most poets were enlightened and uneducated. And those who were educated found themselves in prison.
When poets would write about the rabbit and fox, they weren’t talking about a rabbit or fox. They were talking about social issues.
Poetry in Afghanistan has always played a large role in resistance. It has disguised political messages during occupation, civil war, and under Taliban rule. During the Soviet regime, poetry groups no longer met in public and stopped publishing their work. During the first Taliban regime, 15 out of 18 libraries were closed and in some cities, all library books were destroyed. From 1996 to 2001, 80,000 books are thought to have been lost.
The Sufi Spirit
Afghan poetry is spiritual and filled with worship references. Sufi spirit and traditions are rooted in our poetry because Afghanistan has been home to sages and scholars for over 1,000 years. Most people have probably consumed Afghan, Sufi, Islamic poetry without knowing it.
Mewlana Jaluladdin Muhammad Balkhi is the most translated poet in the world. The Western world knows him as his colonized name Rumi. He’s known for his poems about his devotion to God but in today’s world of social media, his poems about his love for the Divine are shared in the name of romantic love. His poetry took off because his work was translated into English—and English, as we know, is one of the most valuable currencies and prevalent connection points we share.
Then, we have Hafez–an equally if not more masterful poet, who many people have probably not read or heard of. In fact, Hafez’ work is so layered that to truly understand his literature, you can become a student of his work in universities in Iran. In the West, most famous poems we have come to love by Hafez are not by Hafez. In fact, they are by a White American man–Daniel Ladinsky, who has been publishing books under Hafez’ for two decades. Great poems, actually bestsellers. But Ladinsky didn’t study Hafez or translate his work. He claims he had a dream where Hafez permitted him to publish under his name. This is privilege at its finest.
Spiritual Colonialism
Omid Safi says that during the Victorian period, readers in the West began to uncouple mystical poetry from its Islamic roots. What he calls: spiritual colonialism. Rumi and Hafez both have made significant contributions to Islam. Hafez literally means “he who has committed the Quran to heart” and Rumi is thought to have had the entire Quran memorized. They were Muslims and the erasure of Islam in their poetry is an act of violence. Not only has their identity been erased from their work but the opportunity to connect with Islam through voices like Rumi and Hafez has been removed. Voices that are filled with mercy and harmony and love.
Readers in the West began to uncouple mystical poetry from its Islamic roots; spiritual colonialism.
Poetry and Women
Here’s a high-level understanding on how gender roles impact Afghan literature–and then how it’s affirmed in daily culture. Men are valuable when: honorable, courageous, and proud. Women are valuable when: subservient, quiet and sacrificial.
The last ancient poet I will shine light to is a woman that I’m sure most of the Western world has not heard of. Rabia Balkhi is, within Afghan culture, a famous 10th century poet and possibly the first female poet in our history. She wasn’t a mystic and would write about love–a dishonorable and forbidden topic for Afghan women even in today’s time. Rabia was imprisoned and killed by her brother for falling in love with a slave. It is said that she wrote her last poem on a wall of the bathhouse she was imprisoned in, using her own blood.
There is a huge lack of representation around Afghan women’s stories. Even natural topics like pregnancy and menstruation are considered shameful, inappropriate topics to discuss publicly. There is a very thick veil between Afghan women’s voices and the world. Most obviously, girls in Afghanistan aren’t even allowed to become literate, so we see a lack of published female Afghan poets.
The domino effect of this invisibility is that:
Afghan women have only one narrative represented: the oppressed, victim role pushed by Western media.
Even in Western societies, Afghan women outside of Afghanistan have a harder time using their voice.
Between gender and language barriers, there is a huge lack of representation around Afghan women’s lives, our challenges, our history, our experiences, and our creations.
Be mindful of how you can connect with a country and peoples, who are experiencing ethnic and linguistic cleansing.
Humanizing Afghans
I’m going to conclude with some call-to-actions. As people are waking up to realities around Afghanistan, it’s important to be mindful of how you can connect with a country and peoples, who are experiencing ethnic and linguistic cleansing. Start with learning about and consuming our art.
How many Afghan authors do you have on your bookshelf? How many Afghan artists are on your Spotify playlist? How many Dari or Pashto translated films are you consuming?
There’s a rich history to be unlocked and stories to be shared–and they are accessible. The real advocacy that Afghans need is to be humanized, after decades of being dehumanized by Western media.