The Taliban are renowned for shockingly strict edicts. Since coming to power in 1996, the fundamentalist warriors have imposed a radical brand of Islam on Afghanistan, banning television and photography, requiring men to grow long beards and barring women from schools and work. They have defiantly refused to turn over suspected terrorist Osama bin Laden and have reportedly profited from the country’s massive opium crop. They have been shunned by the international community for repressing their own people. Ironically, though, the decision to attack works of stone may have provoked the greatest outrage.
Conservationists around the world have launched a desperate campaign to save the sculptures. Koichiro Matsuura, director-general of the Paris-based UNESCO, won pledges from 54 Islamic countries to oppose Omar’s edict. In a rare show of solidarity, even Afghanistan’s few allies have called on the Taliban to back down. (Neighboring Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates all oppose the decree.) In Asia, even Vietnam, which generally avoids commenting on the affairs of other countries, issued a statement attacking the proclamation. And the list of critics seems to be growing by the day.
The statues of Bamiyan have long captured the world’s imagination. Carved out of stone by Greek artists in the early years of Buddhism, the icons have been visited by pilgrims on the way to holy sites in India for almost 2,000 years. The walls that surround the statues are covered with paintings and are themselves considered unique cultural treasures. But the edict will affect more than the massive Bamiyan sculptures. During the fifth century Afghanistan stood astride vital trade routes between Asia and Europe, and the country is filled with thousands of priceless, smaller antiquities. Prior to the Taliban’s victory, the Kabul Museum was renowned for its collection of more than 6,000 pre-Islamic artifacts. Many have since been stolen and smuggled abroad, but an unknown number remain subject to Taliban whim. In an unusual move, both India and New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art are offering to transfer the statues for safekeeping and pay the Taliban for the priviledge. “If you don’t want them there at least let us take them away,” says Steven Kossak, an associate curator of Asian art at the Met.
It may already be toolate. Last Thursday soldiers armed with hatchets, rocket launchers and artillery reportedly began to destroy statues across the country under the guidance of the notorious Ministry for the Prevention of Vice and Protection of Virtues. “The destruction work will be carried out using every means available to us,” says Taliban Information Minister Qadratullah Jamal. At the end of the week reports claimed that the Taliban had opened fire on the Bamiyan sculpt-ures with cannons and mortar rockets, and that dynamite was being trucked in to prepare for their final destruction. “Things are looking worse and worse,” says Matsuura. “The trouble is, I do not have very efficient leverage to use against the Taliban.”
That may be Omar’s point. His bizarre decree comes at a time when most countries would be buckling under international pressure. Afghanistan is suffering its third year of drought and facing a devastating famine. Western countries have imposed sanctions and have shown little sympathy for Taliban moves to cut down on opium production. “My suspicion is they are doing it to send a signal that they are going to do things their own way,” says Shepard Forman, director of New York University’s Center on International Cooperation. The Taliban may also be hoping to barter with the United Nations for aid to head off a looming refugee crisis. So far, however, the regime has succeded only in angering the world once more.
