By LeRoy Lawson
In 2007 I made my first journey to post-monarchy, post-Russian occupation, post-mujahadeen civil war, post-Taliban atrocities, post-American-occupied Afghanistan. I haven”t fully recovered yet. It reminded me of an earlier visit to civil-war-torn Eastern Congo.
My traveling group was told then that seven identifiable groups in Congo were shooting at each other. Whether they were hitting their ostensible targets was questionable; what was beyond question was their devastating success in wiping out any effective government, any viable economy, any visible hope for the people. I usually return from a developing country discouraged; from Congo I came away angry.
Anger also ruled my roiling emotions in Kabul. Standing in the midst of this war-pocked city, a humanitarian leader pointed in four directions and named the warring groups that not so long ago had been bombarding each other across that terrified city. For me it was Chapter II. Again unable to exterminate each other, they could at least paralyze the government, destroy the economy, and cripple the people. And nearly totally frustrate the Good Samaritans seeking to rescue the perishing and bind up their wounds.
I was there as a guest of SOZO International, to evaluate its mission and proposed partnership with CMF International. The selfless ministries in medicine, education for street children, and relief for destitute refugees were praise- and support-worthy. What was disheartening, though, was the huge obstacle of paranoia, a pervasive fear of Americans in general and Christians in particular, a paranoia fueled by radical Islamic leaders more interested in power than in relief for the suffering.
As a result, Christians working to alleviate suffering in Afghanistan must do so cautiously, even surreptitiously, lest they endanger themselves and the nationals they have befriended. A cup of cold water they can give; it is welcome. What is not welcomed is offering it in the name of Christ. That seems too much like proselytizing, which is forbidden. What, then, can be the long-term impact of this humanitarian aid?
You understand my anguish. What hope is there for a culture that does not allow free access to hope itself?
I have no panacea to offer. What I can recommend are three books that afford further insight into the state of things in Afghanistan and next-door Pakistan. Two are novels by best-selling Afghan-American author Khaled Hosseini and the other a true account of humanitarian ventures of the mountain-climbing adventurer Greg Mortenson, which reads like a novel.
Tapping the Depths
Hosseini”s The Kite Runner (River-head, 2003) was a huge publishing success. It is now a major motion picture. More than a piece of fiction about Afghanistan, the novel taps the depths of human experience in its gripping account of love, betrayal, adultery, brutality, forgiveness, redemption, and hope.
Along the way, we enter the world of Afghanistan in the final days of the monarchy, the ruthless rule of the Russians, the treacherous days of the warlords, and the brutal days of the Taliban through a heartbreaking story of the friendship between a wealthy Afghan boy and the unacknowledged son of his father”s servant.
The Kite Runner hit bookstores in America shortly after 9/11. Its timeliness accounts for its sales only in part, however; it is a beautifully written story that yanks at the heartstrings, engaging the reader as emotionally as my recent visit to Afghanistan has done.
Revealing Culture
As does Hosseini”s second novel, A Thousand Splendid Suns (Riverhead, 2007). The first book takes the point of view of the Muslim male; this second one gives us a glimpse of the Islamic world through a woman”s eyes. It”s not a pleasant picture.
Mariam is the illegitimate daughter of a Kabul businessman and a servant, who grows up in poverty, is married off to hide her father”s shame, disappoints her husband by failing to give him an heir, suffers humiliation when he moves his second wife (younger, better looking) into their home, and finally (I”m skipping much of the story here) sacrifices herself in an act of love.
Once again Hosseini reveals much about Afghanistan”s multivarious culture including, helpfully, insight into tensions between social levels and types of Islamic expression.
Persevering on Principle
I picked up Three Cups of Tea (Viking, 2006) in a bookshop as I was returning from Afghanistan. I could not have made a better choice. Still ragged from my visit and eager to learn more about this enigmatic part of the world, I found Relin”s account of Mortenson”s adventures mesmerizing. Set in the territory from whence cometh the Taliban (the mountainous region, by the way, that I peered at from a supposedly safe distance in Kabul), this is the tale of a religious mountaineer (not religious as in Christian, but religious as in “nothing is more important in my life than climbing mountains”).
He tried scaling the Himalayan peak K2 in 1993 and failed. On his descent he lost his way and, half dead, was rescued and nursed back to health by the impoverished people in a little Pakistani village perched on a mountain ledge. In gratitude Mortenson promised to return one day and build a school for the children. A man of his rash word, he built the school””and many others, mostly for usually overlooked and undereducated girls.
Mortenson”s has been called “one of the most incredible humanitarian campaigns of our time.” The story is told primarily by David Oliver Relin, an award-winning journalist and Mortenson enthusiast. You will not be surprised to learn that Greg Mortenson is the son of Lutheran missionaries; you might be surprised to know that he is not a Christian but a humanitarian whose passion is to apply Christian principles””often at a risk of his own life””in one of the most anti-Christian parts of the world. While pursuing his goal, he has survived kidnapping, death threats, prolonged separations from his wife and children, bouts of depression, and doubt. Still he perseveres.
The result is incredible. At the time of the book”s publication, his Central Asia Institute had built more than 50 schools. This is not the stuff of headlines (the media are more interested in the latest bombings and headcounts of the dead and political coups and insurrections), but this is of the stuff that changes the world””one school at a time.
LeRoy Lawson is international consultant with Christian Missionary Fellowship International and a contributing editor to CHRISTIAN STANDARD. His column appears monthly.
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