Murder in Bamiyan

Murder in Bamiyan

Watching a people commit themselves to cultural harakiri, to a systematic chipping away at their richly endowed civilisation, is a chilling enough proposition. But when the heritage they seek to destroy belongs as much to large swathes of the rest of the world as it does to them, it can only be deemed a crime against humanity. On Monday, Taliban leader Mullah Mohammad Omar, in a dramatic confirmation of his and his fellow mullahs’ inability to lead the people of Afghanistan to a better future, issued an edict that all statues be destroyed.

Predictably, the consequent international outcry, the impassioned appeals from Buddhist and non-Buddhist countries around the globe, only steeled the mad mullahs’ resolve. And in a perverse display of religious fervour, on Thursday Taliban ministers confirmed that the annihilation of statues, primarily of the Buddha, in Kabul, Bamiyan, Herat, Kandahar, Nangarhar and Ghazni had begun apace. The Supreme Leader’s words have been translated into direct action with abreathtaking Talibanic efficiency! He is certain to brim with his despicable brand of pride, while the rest of us slip into a sad mourning for this victory of mindlessness over beauty.

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In this determined Taliban bid to return Afghanistan to the medieval age, the two gigantic Buddhas at Bamiyan have become the most evocative symbols of the rich legacy Mohammad Omar’s men seek to transform into worthless rubble.

Delicately hewn out of the mountainside in the second to the fifth century and exhibiting a strong Hellenistic influence, the Buddhas one the tallest in the world at 50 m and the second just a trifle less impressive at 36 m mark a high point in cultural fusion. They are also the embodiment of the cultural interactions all those centuries ago that add colour and depth to our histories, to our multi-faceted identities. To be sure, the Buddhas have been suffering the sporadic ravages of invaders since the ninth century when the Bamiyan valley ceased to be a major Buddhist centre. None of it, of course, as destructive as over the past two decades as Afghanistan slipped into its fratricidal civil war. If the Buddhas’ faces were blackened with burnt rubber and rockets fired into theirimposing figures, in a curious irony their feet served as safe sites for ammunition dumps the reasoning being that no one would dare launch an outright attack on the statues for fear of destroying them. Mr Omar will, no doubt, find it difficult to make any sense of this logic. Just as he will find it impossible to gauge the sense of loss that’s enveloped those who cherish artistic achievement.

It would be pointless at this point to lecture the Taliban on what is Islamic and what is not, on those very basic acts of courtesy and empathy that engender long-lasting cultural bonds. Instead, this statue-destroying frenzy is a chastening lesson in the monumental problems posed in dealing with rogue regimes. It is this failure to establish a rational line of communication with dictators that poses one of the greatest threats to the world order at the start of the 21st century.