understanding the viciousness of banning women from poetry in Afghanistan

*from our substack found at https://substack.com/@megmars/p-162072382

August 2021 was devastating for the people of Afghanistan. The Taliban invaded Kabul and regained control of the region. The outcome has of course been grim, particularly for women. Reports suggest that over 90% of Afghans are suffering from a variety of issues including food insecurity and water scarcity. Limitations on movement, expression, education, health and work are widespread. 

Women have faced extreme consequences and have witnessed their most basic rights suddenly ripped away. Secondary and higher education is now strictly forbidden for women and girls. Women must cover their faces and are required to travel outside of their home with a male guardian. Fitness centers for women are banned. Beauty salons were forced to close. Some of these activities have gone underground, risking fines, prison time, or worse. For example, many beauty salon owners have continued their work in secrecy. The alternative could be failing to make a living and having to marry off daughters for money.

Poetry is also among the banned activities in Afghanistan. I was surprised (at first) when I saw that, especially because I had not come across many articles touching on this particular cruelty. Somaia Ramish, a prominent poet and activist, describes poetry in Afghanistan as “an inseparable part of everyday life,” and shared how deeply interwoven reciting poetry is in Afghan people’s lives. 

You see, the Taliban is acutely aware of the important role arts and expression play in resistance movements, particularly in Afghanistan. Women have historically been silenced and pushed into the shadows in the middle east, denying them a public voice. Poetry has been a beautiful, biting tool for advocacy, expression, social justice and a means of communication.

One specific type of poetry used by Afghan women is the Landay, a form of traditional Afghan poetic form comprised of 22 syllables (9 syllables in the first line and 13 in the second) and usually anonymous. It is traditionally spoken or sung, contributing to the powerful nature of these poems and the accessibility of this art to illiterate women. The Landay can be a sexual expression, a vehicle to ventilate rage, or a form of women’s empowerment. The five main themes of the Landay are love, grief, homeland, separation and war. This artistic expression has been passed down for centuries and has been essential for women across Afghanistan.

Below is a potent example of a poem written by a woman in Afghanistan. It was translated by Eliza Griswold, who did extensive reporting about Landays and Afghan women.

You sold me to an old man, father.May God destroy your home, I was your daughter.Making love to an old manis like fucking a shriveled cornstalk blackened by mold.

I can almost touch the tangible hurt and anger infused into this poem. The author craft-fully showcases the context of its creation and the rawness of their painful betrayal.

As seen above, art is a way to share and connect in moments of chaos and in times of suffering. It is an instrument to process and understand one’s circumstances and a tool for working with trauma. Words woven into poetry can capture a personal experience for someone in a way that other mediums of communication often cannot. Artists can protest through their work and be a dependable source of information to those outside of where a conflict or tragedy is occurring. The political, cultural and social environment within which art is born is a stunning place for change to be able to ignite. 

The ban on poetry is cruel. Aside from the significance of expression, women in Afghanistan need these acts of resistance to survive the injustices and oppression they are facing today. By banning poetry, the Taliban seeks to erase women’s ability to gather together, feel hopeful, and especially, generate fury and action. 

The women in Afghanistan know that their rights are deteriorating and that the moment they step out of their homes, they are no longer humans to the Taliban. The deep hatred for women that we are seeing there, manifesting through banning women from all aspects of life and removing any sense of freedom or individuality, doesn’t look like it is going anywhere anytime soon. 

It may seem simple, but after learning about the poetry ban and how meaningful artistic expression was for the women of Afghanistan, I personally feel called to lean into the arts as activism. We can all use whatever voice we have to call out global misogyny and the patriarchy, honoring the traditions of the fierce Afghan women.