Rough Game Mirrors Afghan Political Strife

By MARK FINEMAN

Feb. 19, 1989 12 AM PT

Times Staff Writer

PESHAWAR, Pakistan — “Meet the ‘Olympic’ team of Afghanistan,” the announcer shouted through a loudspeaker as 32 of the meanest, roughest Afghan guerrillas one could imagine lined up on horseback in front of the mud reviewing stand where the American ambassador sat.

“This game is being played today in honor of the victory of Afghanistan over the Soviet Union, in the hope that we will return to our country soon and play better games there,” the announcer said.

Then the whip-waving horsemen blurred together in a charging, sweating, grappling mass of horses, arms and hands. They were pushing to grab a 100-pound headless calf from a circle in the center of the arena, carry it the length of the field and back without dropping it or having it snatched away, and finally put it back in the circle to score three points.

The game is buzkashi , a medieval test of strength and horsemanship that is played throughout Central Asia, usually with a headless goat as the center object. The game has long been a kind of metaphor for Afghanistan, a nation that, after centuries of war, attempted invasions and nine years of Soviet occupation now ended, stubbornly refuses to join what some call the modern cultural age.

But the buzkashi match Friday at the Khursan refugee camp, 10 miles north of Peshawar near the Afghan border, was also symbolic of Afghanistan’s current crisis.

The match was financially underwritten by the foreign community that has been working with the 3.2 million Afghan refugees scattered in hundreds of camps like Khursan along Pakistan’s western border, a departure from the ancient tradition of matches sponsored by khans--powerful village chieftains or local officials.

Salute to Afghans

And several of the expatriate buzkashi fans agreed that it was a well-meaning salute to the Afghans for their success in driving out the Soviet troops in a guerrilla war financed largely by the United States.

The master of ceremonies of the event was the U.S. ambassador to Pakistan, Robert Oakley, who sat in the front row and, in an act many Afghans saw as an inadvertent insult, personally handed out cash prizes to the stars of the match when it was over.

On the surface, Friday’s match was a celebration. But it also took place at a moment when attempts by the guerrillas’ political leaders to form a unified government-in-exile for their nation were sagging under the crush of outside pressures from Pakistan, Iran, Saudi Arabia, the United States and other nations that served as their benefactors during the rebels’ long “holy war.”

“You know Russia is a superpower, a big power, an intercontinental power, and Afghanistan is a small country, a peaceful country, a nonaligned country that was invaded by these Russians,” the announcer cried as the bearded horsemen ranged across the muddy arena. “But Russia, she was beaten just like the cow, torn to pieces by these holy warriors.”

In the audience, Hamad Naweed, an Afghan refugee who recalls splendid days of buzkashi tournaments in Kabul stadium in the prewar days when he taught school and thought little of politics, saw a different analogy.

“As a matter of fact,” he said thoughtfully to a stranger, “it is very true that buzkashi is a metaphor of life in Afghanistan. Look at what’s happening on the Afghan issue right now. Everybody is trying to gain something out of Afghanistan. Now that the Soviets have left, our other neighbors, other friends, are starting to try the same thing.

“Iran and Pakistan are trying to put their puppets in Afghanistan. The Arabs are trying to secure strongholds inside Afghanistan. And that is just like this game. Everybody is pulling Afghanistan toward themselves.

“It is very insulting to compare a country to a cow. I don’t mean it like that. But that is what everyone is doing to us now.”

As Naweed spoke, the game went on. The horses reared, the riders whipped their mounts and dipped and wrestled, trying to pull up the calf and ride off toward the goal.

The foreigners applauded when the announcer told them to, and, in an ancient buzkashi tradition, jorchis, or town criers, rode to the reviewing stand to sing fanciful songs of praise after each important or brilliant play.

“Arbab Jabar galloped like a lion, and his horse jumped like a deer,” the crier intoned in his native Persian. “He brought honor to his khan and his people. He is a moujahedeen (holy warrior).”

Naweed explained that the khan is the sponsor, and under buzkashi’s medieval rules, the khan, not individual players, gains all of the credit and glory from a victory.

After the first Communist-backed coup in Afghanistan in the 1970s, Naweed said, the government tried to alter the rules of buzkashi, ruling that prizes would go to the individual riders because the khan system smacked of feudalism.

“Tash Palwan was the greatest hero of buzkashi in Afghanistan at the time, and he declared that the game must not be changed,” Naweed explained. “He said, ‘I promise you, whoever is the enemy of buzkashi is the enemy of Afghanistan, and we will do buzkashi to him. We will use him in place of the cow.’

“Tash Palwan is dead now. When the Russians came, he went up to the mountains and became a brave moujahedeen commander. He was 7 feet tall and the strongest of Afghans. He was killed in the war. An artillery shell, I believe.”

After nearly two hours of play, several riders had cuts and bruises. The flanks of their horses were wet with sweat and blood. At one point, the scramble spilled into the audience, almost knocking over the American ambassador and his wife.

“Buzkashi is a powerful game and sometimes, of course, out of control,” the announcer warned with a laugh, as the audience returned to its seats.

Naweed shook his head again. “It is a game of great skill and control,” he said. “It is a test of power, endurance and patience.

“And yes,” he added, “it is a lot like this war.”

The match finally ended, although no one seemed to know who won. The horsemen lined up for their prizes in the buzkashi tradition.

One by one, as their names were called, they were handed envelopes containing 100 rupee notes in Pakistani currency. And as they rode away, they hung their heads.

“It is a big mistake for the American ambassador to hand out these prizes,” Naweed whispered. “An Afghan must give this out. This is a great insult to us.

“We thank our friends for all they have done for us during the jihad (holy war). But it is our friends now who are making the mistakes.”