Lost History – The Taliban’s destruction of the Bamiyan Buddhas
In March 2001, mere months before the horrifying events of 9/11, the Taliban ruled Afghanistan. Their leader, the mysterious one-eyed Mullah Omar, was famed for his piety and fastidious commitment to the tenets of Islam. But strangely, this devout and stern leader displayed ambivalence towards the curation of non-Islamic sites and artefacts, recognising their economic advantages as tourist destinations and their cultural significance for his impoverished country.
The worship and admiration of false idols is a sin in Islam and as concerns about the survival of Afghanistan’s colossal Buddhas started to increase, Western envoys began to lobby the Taliban for access to the Buddhas, offering the government money and manpower to conserve the statues on their behalf. A delegation of Egyptian religious leaders even travelled to Afghanistan and pleaded with the Taliban Council in Kabul to protect the irreplaceable Buddhas of Bamiyan, but their trip was a waste of time. After declaring his intention to preserve the towering ancient Buddhist statues located in the central highlands, Mullah Omar dramatically changed his mind and ordered their demolition.
An intense artillery barrage over several days damaged the beautiful features of the Buddhas but failed to decisively dislodge the religious art that had adorned the Bamiyan cliff face since before the birth of the Islamic faith. But after detonating two huge stockpiles of dynamite at the base of the Buddhas, the massive explosions finally ended the sacred presence of the giant effigies. These elegant exponents of oriental art looked out over the Bamiyan valley for almost 1500 years. Under the tyrannical dictates of a zealous administration, the silent vigil of those stone behemoths came to an abrupt and violent end. It is deemed one of the greatest acts of cultural barbarism committed this century and still haunts the residents of the region as well as the international archaeological community who laboured so hard to look after the unique idols.
The verdant Bamiyan valley is riven by a commanding cliff into which the two stone icons were carved. Carbon dating estimates that the shorter of the two, the Eastern Budha (125ft), was constructed in 570 AD, and its larger twin, the Western Budha (180ft), was completed in approximately 620 AD. Over the centuries, hundreds of Muslim families found homes in the caves of that porous clay cliff and cheerfully became the unofficial keepers of the great Buddhas. Many reluctantly assisted the Taliban in destroying their most cherished landmarks – which were odd sources of revenue in an economy dominated by the deadly trade of weapons and drugs. They had little choice. Either they aided their government or risked lethal persecution. In 2004, the discovery of more caves was made. Wall paintings and carvings were uncovered, some of which support the theory that oil paints were in use some five hundred years prior to the first recorded instance of a western brush applying lubricated pigments to a canvas.
Additionally, in 2008, much to the astonishment of experts, the remnants of a potential third reclining buddha were unearthed, galvanising archaeologists across the world to restart work on the valley. The continual rediscovery of lost artistry, architecture and other innovative attributes of deceased civilizations is a testament to the rich heritage of that remote and imperilled location. As the Americans leave Afghanistan, the Taliban have aggressively mobilised its forces, claiming around a third of the nation’s 421 districts in only a few weeks. With no side currently strong enough to enjoy complete control over the country, a long and protracted civil war seems the most likely outcome to the western allies’ swift departure.
The world is now watching the lamentable build-up towards another bloody chapter in the saga of Afghanistan. Across the arid battlefields, enormous troves of incredible treasure lie exposed. People, not prizes are always the priority – but the loss of extraordinary relics ought to be acknowledged as a probable consequence of the allies’ exodus from the region. In 1833, Indian army deserter, Charles Masson was the first westerner to behold the giant Buddhas of Bamiyan and to recognise their origins. He wrote: “The traveller surveying […] the vast and mysterious idols and the multitude of caves around him will scarcely fail to be absorbed in deep reflection and wonder…”.
The intimidating emptiness of those immense niches engenders a different kind of awe from the one Masson alludes to. Loss is the prevailing theme of Bamiyan. Even a 3D projection of the vanished Buddhas does little to remedy the infirmity of their absence.
We should prepare ourselves for the destruction of many more marvels now that a new era of war is dawning in Afghanistan.