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| I've changed my mind about the west | Massood Qiam As an Afghan in 2001, I thought the US and its allies would take its reconstruction duties seriously. They did notMy father was an army officer during the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan and so naturally I grew up hearing anti-American and anti-imperialist slogans around me. Occasionally my father would bring home magazines and press materials published by the defence ministry's press office.Even though at the time I had not yet developed an awareness of politics, I'd peruse the magazines, reading the captions of the photographs showing arms and weapons. I still remember one particular image, the photograph of an F-16 jet fighter that the US had given to Pakistan. Underneath the picture, it said, "F-16 fighters given to Pakistan by the imperialist power for the purpose of disrupting security and stability in the region."I'd turn the page and find the photograph of Soviet-built MiG-21 fighter jets stationed at an Afghan airport. Underneath the pictures, it said, "The MiG-21 fighter jet has been given as a present to Afghanistan to be used in the service of peace and security in the region."But Afghans' perception of the west had been mainly shaped through their encounters with the British empire in the 19th century. The emotional impact is evident in everyday language where "son of a Briton" is an insult used for the conniving and the untrustworthy. My father did not believe in communism but, being an army officer, he had little choice but to serve the army of the regime that was in power. In 1985, when I was five years old, the city of Kabul came under rocket attack for the first time. The rockets were US-built stinger missiles that had been given to the mujahideen.The attacks in Kabul are part of my worst childhood memories. Every night, the state-run television would show horrific images of civilians killed in these attacks. The sound of rockets being fired from the mountains that surround the Kabul valley frightened me to the core and so shaped my image of the west. After all, we all knew that the west had supplied the mujahideen with those rockets that were fired on us civilians in Kabul. And so I grew up feeling ambivalent towards the west.In 1992, the Soviet-backed regime in Kabul collapsed and the mujahideen entered Kabul, dispersed and in separate groups. They soon started fighting each other. In Kabul alone, there were three to four frontlines and crossing each frontline meant the risk of death. Throughout this time, I lived in Kabul, spending my teenage years witnessing the killing of 60,000 people in the city as a result of fighting between various mujahideen groups.Like many Afghans, I kept asking myself, why are the UN, the US and other western democracies not coming to help us?When the Taliban came to power, they oppressed me, punished me for listening to music, for shaving my beard and growing my hair long. But at least they allowed me to go from home to university without being hit by rockets and with a sense of living under a government.The nagging question was still there, though: why had the west forgotten us? After all, Afghans' struggle against the Soviet Union was also in the interest of the west, putting an end to the threat of Soviet imperialism and opening the markets in eastern Europe. Afghans had made sacrifices in this war so why were they forgotten now that they needed their former allies most?This question was nagging me right until the end of the Taliban regime. Eventually, history provided me with an answer. When the west, led by the US, re-entered Afghanistan in order to fight al-Qaida, after 9/11, I understood that as long as Afghanistan was not considered a security threat to the west, there would be no incentive for the west to help prevent the killing of thousands of people in civil wars.Even though I was sceptical of the west and the US, my disappointment with continuous wars which had shaped my childhood and teenage years, had turned me into a young man with a strong desire for peace and security. I was optimistic back in 2001. I kept reminding myself that we had an elected president and were building the foundations of a proper state, and the thought made me rejoice. The new regime had little economic impact on our lives, and failed to bring food on our tables but the political progress and emerging civil society energised me, as it energised thousands of other Afghans.The years passed and my initial enthusiasm was soon replaced by the realisation that we were only witnessing the illusion of progress. In reality, all the changes that had taken place in Afghanistan were token changes, superficial measures that had symbolic value but no content. I had expected the US and its western allies to tackle the roots causes of problems in Afghanistan, including building an infrastructure and tackling the problem of irregular armies, war crimes and the drugs trade.But Kabul's western allies had a superficial, quick-fix approach to the country's problems, and ended up turning it into display window, showcasing symbolic progress in human rights, women's rights and democracy, whereas the root causes of the problem were ignored.I had expected international organisations to carry out reconstruction projects in a transparent and responsible manner, but there's evidence that international NGOs stationed in Afghanistan are a major source of corruption. There is no co-ordination between the different countries involved in Afghanistan, and it is obvious that the UK, the US, and other European countries have different and contradictory approaches to Afghanistan, often undermining each other in the process.I had expected the Western democracies involved in Afghanistan to be serious, thorough and efficient but they turned out to be fickle, superficial, and divided. I began the decade feeling sceptical towards the west but was ready to give the US and its allies the benefit of the doubt. I ended up disappointed.AfghanistanMiddle EastMassood Qiyamguardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2009 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds guardian.co.uk |
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Naples opera house to reopen after €65m restoration San Carlo to reopen after 300 workers spent two years restoring Italy's oldest functioning opera houseAs it seeks to shrug off its reputation as a rubbish strewn, mafia-plagued city in decline, Naples is pinning its hopes for revival on its newly resplendent Âopera house.The San Carlo, Italy's oldest functioning opera house, reopens after a two-year, €67m (£57m) restoration project in which 300 workers buffed up the stucco, gold leaf and drapes, added new rehearsal rooms and installed a hi-tech stage set.Built by Naples's Bourbon rulers in 1737 and described in 1817 by the French writer Stendhal as "dazzling the eyes and enrapturing the soul", the San Carlo has staged premiers by Rossini and Verdi. But in 2007 government administrators had to be called in as debts of €20m threatened its survival.As part of the revamp, air conditioning was installed. "The heat from May onwards was intolerable, which is why they used to leave the doors open during performances," said the architect Elisabetta Fabbri, who has previously helped rebuild opera houses in Bari and Venice after they were destroyed by fire.Apart from fires and frequent periods in the hands of state administrators, Italy's temples to opera are often the scenes of management infighting. But Fabbri said that a team spirit at the San Carlo had brought the rebirth of the house in on budget and on time."Opera houses are emotional places, and rows can happen, but they are also Italy's secular churches and they really pull people together," she said.Salvatore Nastasi, the government appointed administrator at the San Carlo, said losses had been cut and the opera house could soon be handed back to local authorities."When I got here in 2007 it was a low point for Naples, but Neapolitans know in their DNA they live in a great European city and I believe the rebirth of the San Carlo can encourage them to feel reborn," he said.OperaItalyArchitectureTom Kingtonguardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2010 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds guardian.co.uk |