The Kite Runner - "For you, a thousand times over."

So I really meant to keep politics out of Unity Plaza when I first conceived of it, but this is such a political book that I'm afraid this is going to be a political post. Strap in.

The Kite Runner was an awfully good book.

It's hard to really describe the book's plot adequately. The quickest way would be to say it's about the messed up life of an Afghani boy who grew up in the 70s and ended up as a refugee. It deals mainly with Pashtun culture and Afghani racial dynamics, while hitting fundamental themes involving the concepts of sin and redemption.

It's author, Khaled Hosseini, is an Afghani exile who lived in Kabul and ended up living in California. Pashtun culture doesn't actually have much traction with me. I vaguely am familiar with the ideas of Pashtunwali, but the details of those ideals are a bit alien to me. Still, no matter how un-Pashtun I might be, I know enough about the culture to know that Kabulite exiles are individuals one is supposed to be wary of. There is a small subset of that lot that have made their livings by selling out their homelands to our enemies, after all (You'll notice I say 'our' even though I have no right to).

Khaled Hossieni, I do believe, is not one of those people. This was a book he wrote from his heart and he did not write it to cater to a Western audience that wants its myopic stereotypes confirmed. But in spite of that, Mr. Hossieni is still a Kabulite exile and, for better or worse, it shows.

I'm always hesitant to talk about Afghanistan, mainly because I have a sister who has steadily been forging herself into the foremost expert on Afghanistan in the Western world. So I actually consulted with her about the book after reading one hundred pages of it, because I sort of could already feel what the author was doing and wanted to know if that instinct was right.

Mr. Houssieni's main political point in the book is the equating of the Taliban with the Nazi party of Germany through the character of a half-German half-Pashtun bully who later ends up in the Taliban top brass. Said half-German has read Mein Kempf and thinks it's filled with great ideas and also happens to like to rape young boys. It's thus strongly implied through the book's text that the Taliban are the Nazi successors. The word 'Islamofacism' is something that gets peddled around (though not so much these days now, thank you again Barack Obama) and Mr. Houssieni is obviously picking up on that angle.

It's a convenient sort of equation from the perspective of an Afghan on a lot of different levels. The Nazi party, from the perspective of modern German society, is considered to be a fit of temporary insanity. Many Japanese treat the Imperial period in much the same way. Labelling the Taliban as Nazis in turbans allows the Afghani exile to reconcile dual loyalities in a clean sort of way.

The problem is that I don't believe that that's true.

The Taliban were a military force that emerged out of one of the most brutal wars in human history. I don't sympathize with any of the policies or restrictions they imposed upon the Afghan people nor do I agree with any facet of their twisted practice of Islam. But I also am aware that their origins lie with a war against a brutal foreign occupier that sprinkled the countryside with landmines, followed quickly by a war against warlords that conducted systematic rape campaigns against rival ethnic groups.

There is a story I know about Mullah Omar that may well be a folktalk, but I shall recount it here. Mullah Omar had his origins as a low level madrassa teacher, very second-tier. One day when news came of some manner of warlord invading a man's wedding and kidnapping his bride for himself, Mullah Omar put up a sign on the madrassa decreeing: 'education is now haram'. For Mullah Omar and the young men he would lead, there could be no civilization so long as such things were taking place.

When people go to war on such terms, the only thing one can find on the other end is the Taliban. And that is why I reject any comparison between them and the narcisstic racial fantasies of an overly pampered European nation from a world away. To call them Nazis and fascists is, quite simply, a self-serving lie. It dismisses the specifically Afghan quality of their movement and tries to make it something foreign. It tries to make the Taliban not Afghani and, I guess I should say, not Pashtun.

The fundamental way I have come to understand the Taliban is that they are men who volunteered to fight against some of the blackest evils that world has ever seen and were tainted in the process. They fought an invading army that sprinkled millions of landmines shaped like butterflies about the countryside to attract Afghani children to them. They fought warlords who made rape into a regular military practice. And in the process of fighting those evils they, in the words of Nietsche, stared into the void and the void looked right back at them.

That does not justify any of their later actions, but I do believe that that is the proper context by which they must be understood.

There is a passage in which Khaled Hosseini does acknowledge his perspective as a Kabulite exile when he has a taxi driver deride his former life in Kabul as pampered and unAfghani. That took a lot of courage, in my opinion, and greatly enhanced my opinion of him. But nonetheless, my hope is that the oversimplification of the Taliban that he presents does not take root any more than it already has.

This all, of course, has very little to do with the actual book, which was really quite good. It's a fantastically written story, really. I found that the structure of the story was rather simplistic and you could usually tell when Mr. Hosseini was going to do something bad to his characters, but the amount of sheer abuse that he was willing to hand to his characters consistently surprised me. Though I guess that, in itself, is appropriately Afghani.

There is also a prayer scene that was extremely powerful when the main character turned towards God desperately in a hospital as the child that is in his care is about to die. I think there is a certain ardent form of prayer that's only possible from the Muslim context. The desperate sort of prayer that stems from the twin knowledge of one's recognition of the absolute supremacy of the Lord Creator and the belief in the infinite mercy that He is nonetheless capable of. It is a tearful prayer that is rooted in the purest sort of faith that one was not created without purpose, however unfathomable that purpose may appear at the time. It is the prayer of a person who has nothing else to hold on to and nothing left to suffer.

I did not think that the fundamentals of this prayer could be captured through fiction. In the Kite Runner, they were. And for that, Khaled Hosseini has my most highest of respects.