PUBLISHED ON KAJALMAG.COM

The War Rug, by Hazara artist Khadim Ali, is overwhelming. The title references a distinctly Afghan art form: rugs populated with war imagery. Ali’s artwork however is a digital animation projected on a plain rug. It is full of war, specifically American forces in Afghanistan, the destruction of the Bamiyan Buddha by the Taliban, the battle of Rustom and Esfandiyār from the Shahnameh, and the recent botched American evacuation from Afghanistan – all against a backdrop of a map of Afghanistan and its surrounding countries and in the incongruous medium of retro video game graphics. Rockets, drones, anti-aircraft guns, fighter jets, a GBU-43 bomb, tanks, a warship, Chinook helicopters, coronavirus cells and all manner of military vehicles swarm the screen. There are countless explosions and fireballs, accompanied by the comical arcade hall pew-pew sound effects. As the Buddha crumbles we hear shouts of “Allahu Akbar!” and “Subhanallah”. People are lowered into position via helicopters, running to a commercial airplane, manning guns atop military vehicles, and once it has taken off, falling out of the airplane – their individual screams piercing through the hellish soundscape of a screaming crowd, airplane engines, and helicopter blades.

This bombardment of visual and auditory stimuli triggers both the happy nostalgia of childhood games and the trauma of a very contemporary war: simultaneously playful and horrifying. It’s a multilayered meditation on the complicated history and cultural heritage of Afghanistan; presenting us with neither a linear narrative or a didactic point of view. Yet, embedded within the violence and destruction are moments of hilarity, fantasy, and beauty. In the first half of the animation a line of bullets and shells dance at the bottom of the screen and a herd of goats hops across the map, oblivious and immune to the ongoing battle. In the second half of the animation otherworldly birdlike creatures, robot-esque figures and brightly patterned helicopter and tanklike shapes dot the space. The most powerful however is the music, a man singing in Pahlavi, his clear haunting voice, full of yearning and sorrow, soaring above the cacophonous chiptune symphony of war.

Kajal connected with the Australian based artist to learn more about the making of this powerful work, beginning with a discussion on the textile genre it evokes in both title and aesthetic: war rugs. Click here to read the full interview.