a u t h o r a u t h o r NOSTALGIC DESIRE: THE RESTORATION OF DAR UL- AMAN PALACE IN ,

I feel sure that 100 years hence a monument will be erected at Kabul, the capital, to King Amanullah, to commemorate his patriotism and great reforms, for which my countrymen were, perhaps, at the time of their introduction, not quite prepared.1 — SIRDAR MUHAMMAD YUNUS KHAN, THE FOREMER CHARGÉ D'AFFAIRES OF THE LEGATION IN LONDON, OFFERED THE PREDICTION ABOVE IN 1930 FOLLOWING THE DEPOSITION OF THE REFORMIST KING (R. 1919-1929) AT THE HANDS OF THE RURAL REBELLION.2

PART 1: THE PROPHECY Almost ninety years later, Afghan diplomat Sirdar Muhammad Yunas Khan’s prophecy is coming true. What the diplomat did not know then was that the monument in question had already been constructed in 1923. Before going into exile, Amanullah Khan commissioned Dar ul-Aman palace as the seat of parliament within an ambitious new city planned by German experts, which would also bear his name (Fig. 1). Following the civil war in the 1990s, the palace and its gardens have stood in ruins atop a hill fourteen kilometers west of Kabul. The structure rises to a total height of thirty-three meters, each floor spanning fifty-four hundred square meters. For some, Dar ul-Aman is a memorial for Amanullah’s unrealized vision to establish an Afghan nation-state independent from British suzerainty. Or for his belief in the perfectibility of a vast population through citizenship and development. Amanullah led the offensive against the British in the Third Anglo-Afghan War between 6 May and 8 August 1919, securing the as the territorial border between British India and the Afghan Kingdom. He then promulgated the first constitution in1923 , which necessitated a physical space that could hold the representative body politic—the parliament.

1. “Afghan Sirdar Says Reforms Will Last,” The New York Times. 7 February 1930. 2. For an introduction to the modern , see Thomas Barfield,Afghanistan: A Cultural and Political History, (New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 2012).

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Downloaded from http://www.mitpressjournals.org/doi/pdf/10.1162/THLD_a_00010 by guest on 28 September 2021 However, even before the ratification of the constitution, already in 1922 Amanullah had set forth his priorities to build a new capital city, which would hold administrative buildings, palaces, and residential neighborhoods. In this way, the palace could be understood as a symbol of a sovereign state and its claims of material and territorial domination. Ultimately, the sheer financial cost of the King’s ambition was backed neither by the population, nor the treasury, which according to British sources had around 150 million rupees when Amanullah began his reign.3 During his 1928 European tour with Queen Soraya, Amanullah reportedly intended to purchase 15 million gold marks worth of German goods for Afghanistan’s development. This was in addition to the one million pounds sterling he had already transferred to various European banks to purchase equipment for the electrification of the new city among other things.4 But the imagined bright electric lights of his capital never came to be. His failure opened up speculation about the poor timing of the reforms, while others criticized their authoritarian nature and affinity with European and Turkish models of secularism. Amanullah’s building projects were accompanied by a comprehensive set of top-down political, economic, and social reforms. In trying to explain his downfall, Muhammad Yunus Khan neatly pits the forces of modernization against those of tradition. He argues that “Amanullah’s program” was implemented too early for the comfort of the ignorant “priestly classes,” who then provoked tribal factions to rebel.5 In this manner, forced conscription, tazkeras (identity cards), heavy taxation, public education, literacy, national criminal law (to supplant tribal authority), western dress codes, codification ofsharia (Islamic law) that included the regulation of child marriage and polygamy, and the end of purdah (segregation of women), provided the sites of contention for the 1924 Khost rebellion and the 1929 rebellions that would lead to Amanullah’s exile. Notably, in this explanation, tribal factions did not seem to have any legitimate grievances regarding the increased centralization of state power. Who was to bear the costs of these massive state building projects? By selectively pointing to religious conservatism in rural areas, Muhammad Yunus Khan ignored questions of economic inequality, authoritarianism, and uneven regional development.

3. Ludwig W. Adamec, Afghanistan's Foreign Affairs to the Mid-Twentieth Century: Relations with the USSR, , and Britain (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 1974), 85. 4. Ibid., 120. 5. Ibid. 6. The Kabul City Council originally began a public fundraising effort in 2012 with a goal of raising almost 30 million USD after being exasperated by the state’s negligence of landmarks. It is unclear whether 16.5 million USD will be enough to fund the total restoration. 7. This decision has also been controversial from an ethno-political perspective, where it appears that Ghani—a Pashtun president—is favoring the memorialization of a former Pashtun king, in contrast with his hesitance and delay in granting a state burial to the Tajik Habibullah Kalakani (r. January-October, 1929) who has often been disparaged as the illiterate ‘bandit king’ that deposed Amanullah Khan, interrupted the Pashtun monopoly on state power, and reversed the modernizing trajectory of the Afghan state.

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Nevertheless, his prophecy is being fulfilled by none other than President who on March 9, 2016 allocated 16.5 million usd6 for the total reconstruction of Dar ul-Aman palace.7 A former World Bank expert on human development and cultural anthropologist who received his doctorate from , Ghani is well- versed in theories of state-building. In their 2009 book Fixing Failed States: A Framework for Rebuilding a Fractured World,8 Ghani and Clare Lockhart use the “sovereignty gap” as a concept to analyze failed states like Afghanistan who according to them are legally sovereign, but unable to fulfill the ten core functions of the state: 1( ) legitimate monopoly on the means of violence, (2) administrative control, (3) management of public finances, (4) investment in human capital, (5) delineation of citizenship rights and duties, (6) provision of infrastructure services, (7) formation of the market, (8) management of the state’s assets (i.e. the environment, natural resources, and cultural assets), (9) international relations (i.e. entering into international contracts and public borrowing), and (10) rule of law. Moreover, Ghani and Lockhart believe that international financial and aid institutions increase this “sovereignty gap” and undermine the state’s legitimacy by creating parallel institutions. Through their analytical framework, it is possible to understand why Ghani would be drawn to Amanullah’s disrupted legacy to establish a strong centralized state independent of foreign interference. Moreover, the development of the modern state of Afghanistan is inscribed within the palace’s history, itself. It has served as the Ministry of Public Works, the Ministry of Finance, the Ministry of Justice and Supreme Court, the General Staff Building, and the Ministry of Defense. The space has also directly provided the shelter, food, and educational needs for the populace when it operated as a medical school for , a raisin storage space, refugee camp and temporary housing settlement for resettled nomads.9 Although Dar ul-Aman has had multiple after lives, survived two coups, three fires, countless bullets, grenades, and bombs, in a comic- tragic turn, it could never fulfill its intended purpose. This article thus reads the restoration of Dar ul-Aman as a contemporary iteration of a recurrent “nostalgic desire.” Svetlana Boym suggests that this desire often manifests as a “longing for a place, but it is actually a yearning for a different time.”10 In Boym’s work, nostalgia is not antimodern,

8. Ashraf Ghani and Clare Lockhart, Fixing Failed States: A Framework for Rebuilding a Fractured World (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009). 9. Mariam Ghani and Ashraf Ghani, "Afghanistan: A Lexicon," in ed. Carolyn Christov-Bakargiev, dOCUMENTA (13): 100 Notes—100 Thoughts (Ostfildern: Hatje Cantz, 2012), 12. 10. Svetlana Boym, The Future of Nostalgia (New York: Basic Books, 2001), xv. 11. Ibid., xvi. 12. The new parliament was funded by the Indian Government.

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rather it is coeval with modernity. She writes, “[n]ostalgia and progress are like Jekyll and Hyde: alter egos.”11 Echoing Boym’s mirroring configuration, the new Afghan parliament inaugurated in2015 was constructed directly across the street from Dar ul-Aman.12 This article thus argues that since its construction, the image and memory of Dar ul-Aman has circulated in many imaginary landscapes that reinforce this “nostalgic desire.” Part Two will discuss how these circulations occur on three different scales: (1) a video installation that travels through international art circuits, (2) currency that traverses national territory, and (3) the preservation projects of national leaders who seek to fix the unstable history of Dar ul-Aman into a collective national myth. The current restoration thus, raises a number of pointed questions: What kind of collective myth will this monument embody? How will Amanullah’s legacy be memorialized? Will it be represented as a battle between the enlightened metropolis vs. the ignorant periphery? Or, will Amanullah be forgotten and the palace renamed and remythologized?

PART 2: THE MYTH A starting point of critique of this restoration project is the lack of clarity around what exactly the collective national myth is that will be presented in the restoration of Dar ul-Aman. The most recent renderings of the restoration markets a floriated Edenic landscape, carefully manicured where winding paths of concrete meet water (Fig. 2 and 3). In a city severely lacking green public spaces, this fairytale, however Disneyesque, may be a welcome sight. The third rendering, however, disrupts the fairytale through a fractured temporality (Fig. 4). Reading the image first left-to-right, then right-to-left, the viewer is presented with a seamless transition between war-torn ruins laced with barbed wire, the structural gridlines of the modelled palace, and the flattened façade of the restored structure. The image also transitions between a state of abandonment to one which is inhabited by faceless androids, followed by stock figures of young white men in western corporate attire. When women do appear in the renderings, unlike the colorfully dressed engineers actually working at the restoration site, they are clad in non-traditional black abayas from head-to-toe with matching black scarves. The question lingers…what is being lost and preserved in this restoration? Two years prior to becoming president, Ghani collaborated with Mariam Ghani, a New York-based artist and his daughter to publish Afghanistan: A Lexicon for the quinquennial contemporary art exhibition

13. Ghani and Ghani, "Afghanistan: A Lexicon," 12.

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documenta (13) held in Kassel, Germany with ancillary exhibitions in Kabul and Bamiyan. Their text traced “how Dar ul-Aman shapes the spatial politics of the twentieth century—as space of exception, site of contention, prototype for future plans, and symbol of past failures.”13 In this way, the palace is put forth as a synecdoche, a part that represents the whole(s) of Afghanistan’s existence. Furthermore, they propose a “nonlinear narrative of twentieth-century Afghan history as a recursive loop of modernization attempts, revolts, collapses, and recoveries.”14 The aesthetic choice to employ a nonlinear narrative does not, however, entirely displace the notion of an evolutionary modernization that was repeatedly interrupted, especially by Amanullah’s deposition. While the lexicon opens up the possibility of making connections across time to generate different sets of historical meanings regarding the site, in the restoration process these meanings are interpreted within a developmental nationalist idiom. This is illustrated by the Ministry of Urban Development Affairs’ (muda) hiring of scores of female engineers to not only participate in the restoration, but also promote it as a national cause on television. While men remain the head designers, engineers like Masouma Dalijam try to legitimize public roles for women within a nationalist project when they publicly state that “I am first an Afghan, then an Afghan woman,’ which is followed by Kishwar-e-man abad shawa or roughly translated, ‘may my country prosper.”15 In addition to the lexicon, Mariam Ghani created a two-channel video installation titled “A Brief History of Collapses” that juxtaposes Dar ul-Aman with the Museum Fredericianum built by Simon Louis du Ry in 1779 in Kassel as a public museum (Fig. 6). The latter was incrementally restored after bombing by allied forces in 1943 and became the site for documenta in 1955, when Arnold Bode curated the first exhibition titled “Documenta: Art of the Twentieth Century.” Bode took inspiration from the ruined state of the museum and attempted to forge an aesthetic that historicized contemporary art of the time with the material destruction of the museum itself. Once displayed within the frame of History, the art and the partially restored ruins could be viewed as things in a constant state of becoming, perhaps in an attempt to counter the inevitability that modernity and its aesthetic vanguard— modernism—would always lead to such consummate destruction. In Ghani’s video installation, there are two screens that seem to pivot open like a book that cannot lay flat forcing the two leaves to glance aslant at one another. Ghani directs the camera to glide through both buildings, the Fredericianum displayed on the left screen and Dar ul-Aman on the right. At times, the camera trembles, or the video is

14. Ibid.

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severely edited to create the unsettling effect of approaching a place suddenly, a feeling akin to jerking awake after the sensation of falling when half-asleep. Her voice, however, never falters as she narrates from a script that meanders between the histories, myths, and contexts surrounding the present state of the buildings on display. This too is a nonlinear narrative that does not seek to establish a fixed relationship between the two structures, rather she concludes with interrogating the core principles of restoration:

Perhaps the question that we must finally consider is whether it is equally possible to see the building that was and is no longer in a building that has been remade, and the building that was and is no longer in a building that remains a ruin.16

It is not clear whether Ghani would have juxtaposed these two buildings together outside of the context of documenta (13), which prompted such transnational comparisons. Though, the development of Dar ul-Aman was largely a product of Afghan-German cooperation during the inter-war period. The recovery of the German economy after was premised on cultivating new markets for German technology, experts, and goods abroad, especially in Central and the Middle East. And, in defiance of British protests, Amanullah was eager to establish diplomatic relationships with European states and the . Thus, when his diplomatic envoy Muhammad Wali conveyed his wishes to build a new capital to his German counterparts, the mayor of rapidly dispatched an engineer named Walter Harten to Kabul in 1922 to help design the city and its two crowning centerpieces—Tajbeg (the Queen’s Palace) and Dar ul-Aman.17 However, Nancy Hatch Dupree suggests that “Harten’s cubist plans” for Dar ul-Aman were disliked by the King.18 Instead, he turned to Alfred Foucher, head of the newly established Délégation Archéologique Française en Afghanistan (dafa), to recommend a French architect to assist Harten. André Godard was eventually selected to ostensibly soften the original cubist plans with a neoclassical flair that some have noted may be reminiscent of the eighteenth-century design of Karlsruhe Platz. The palace includes notable architectural elements such as a flattened, rusticated base, flattened pilasters topped with Doric capitals,

15. “Mehwar: Palace Discussed,” TOLONews.com, Kabul, November 16, 2016, accessed December 19, 2016, http://www.tolonews.com/mehwar/27881-mehwar-darulaman-palace-reconstruction-discussed. 16. Mariam Ghani, A Brief History of Collapses, Voiceover Script, English Version, 2012, accessed December 19, 2016 http://www.kabul-reconstructions.net/mariam/collapses.html. 17. Ludwig W. Adamec, Afghanistan’s Foreign Affairs to the Mid-Twentieth Century (Tucson: The University of Arizona Press, 1974), 74. 18. Nancy Hatch Dupree, “A Building Boom in the Hindukush—Afghanistan 1921-1928,” Lotus International 26 (1980): 115-121. 19. I express gratitude to Jessica Varner who shared her architectural analysis of the building, which forms the basis for this description.

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aedicules with arched lunette porticos and an ornamental parapet that wraps around the façade at the second and third stringcourse.19 The arched domed roofs and band windows on the symmetrical front façade may be more characteristic of German modern style. The Majlis, or parliamentary meeting hall, was placed on the third floor under the central (now collapsed) dome in a semi-circular room overlooking the capital city—an object of governance—from a respectful distance (Fig. 7). Mariam Ghani astutely points out that while the Fredericianum was restored as a formal public archive and collection, the ruins of Dar ul-Aman have functioned as an informal public archive where individuals can both physically and mentally embed their collective memories, which are in a state of always becoming. It thus becomes an object of individual and collective nostalgic longing. The colored crumbling gypsum walls of the old palace have been inscribed by the words and drawings of Mujahidin fighters, refugees, and other transient figures. One common theme that emerges from these degenerating canvases is of Yad-Gari, which can mean remembrance, a keepsake, or a memorial in (Fig. 9 & 10). The building withstands or even embraces each new inscription, such as the one in Figure 9, which is artfully aligned with the diagonal, ascending line of the former wainscot paneling along the grand circular staircase to the second floor. In addition to the palace, Harten’s team began planning the entire district. Though this plan was never fully realized, their four quarters or configuration would remain an important planning principle for subsequent Kabul neighborhoods, such as , Karte Char, and . It is significant to note that Amanullah’s administration was recruiting some of the early twentieth-century forerunners of German urban planning, such as Joseph Brix from the Technical University in Charlottenburg. In 1928, the university actually granted Amanullah an honorary doctorate in engineering, perhaps as an act of gratitude for hiring so many of its faculty and students.20 In this instance, Amanullah was ordained not the philosopher, but rather the Engineer-King. Technical advisors like Brix were also influenced by late nineteenth- century German and Austrian urban planning theorists, such as Reinhard Baumeister, Joseph Stübben, and Camillo Sitte, who variably focused on questions of sanitation, health, traffic, zoning, and aesthetics in the development of cities. Accordingly, planning tools such as the use of detailed maps, by-laws, zoning guidelines, orthogonal grids, limited plot sizes, pre-set housing designs, prefabricated components, and integrated

20. Adamec, 119.

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green spaces were used to design Dar ul-Aman. Brix had also successfully recruited Albert Speer to come work for Amanullah. In his memoirs, Speer narrates this unrealized trajectory:

I very nearly became an official court architect as early as 1928. Aman Ullah, ruler of the Afghans, wanted to reform his country and was hiring young German technicians with that end in view. Joseph Brix, Professor of Urban Architecture and Road building, organized the group. It was proposed that I would serve as city planner and architect and in addition as teacher of architecture at a technical school which was to be founded in Kabul…But no sooner was everything virtually settled—the King had just been received with great honors by President Hindenburg—than the Afghans overthrew their ruler in a coup d’état.21

Counterfactually thinking, one can ask, what if Speer had served Amanullah and not Hitler? What if Amanullah had not been deposed? What if the new capital city had been built, and not simply lingered in the liminal space of the contingent unbuilt? Daniel M. Abramson in “The Stakes of the Unbuilt” explores the unbuilt as a distinct genre in architectural history where unrealized architectural drawings and models reveal a praxis of utopian, and sometimes, oppositional imagination ranging from the eighteenth- century unbuilt of Piranesi to the twentieth-century unbuilt of Le Corbusier. He adds that the unbuilt can potentially support the objective of counterfactual history and counterfactual thinking that seeks to abolish inevitability and undermine historical determinism.22 What is peculiar about Dar ul-Aman, however, is that despite existing within the category of the unbuilt or partially realized, it does not abolish inevitability. Rather, the image of Dar ul-Aman has become a currency of a deterministic nostalgia—the history that could have been and will be, which is reiterated in the desire to preserve it as a national myth. This prompts the haunting question…will this too fail? The image of Dar ul-Aman has recurred on stamps and currency over the past century after Amanullah established the national currency—the Afghani—in 1923. This was followed by Afghanistan’s induction into the Universal Postal Union in 1928. The palace was printed on the 10 and 20 poul denomination stamps under the monarchic regime of Muhammad Zahir Shah (r. 1933-1973). Moreover, the 10 Afghani banknote featured Zahir Shah’s bust on the front and the palace on the back (Fig. 11 and 12). While Shah could have ostensibly used another palace or historic monument, his selection of Dar ul-Aman

21. Albert Speer, Inside the Third Reich: Memoirs (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1970), 13. 22. Daniel M. Abramson, “Stakes of the Unbuilt,” The Aggregate website (Transparent Peer Reviewed), accessed May 4, 2016, http://we-aggregate.org/piece/stakes-of-the-unbuilt.

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proposed an equivalence between two distinct regimes of value: sovereign power and architectural memory. And this equivalence was ironically reasserted in 1978 when the palace was burnt down, and its image would reappear on the 50 Afghani banknote following the leftist military coup led by the People’s Democratic Party of Afghanistan (pdpa), but this time without the monarch (Fig. 13 and 14). The multivalence of the palace image is implied in its use by such ideologically varied regimes. In “Street Fights: The Commodification of Place Names in Post- Kabul City,” Ali Karimi explains how street names have been used as bargaining chips that carry a high symbolic exchange value in political negotiations.23 In some cases, this leads to streets renamed after Abraham Lincoln or Azadi (freedom), whereas in other cases it leads to the commemoration of war criminals. If, as Karimi argues, critical toponymy offers a way of understanding the reproduction of ideological discourses in the spaces of everyday urban experiences, then what exists in Kabul today is ideological dissonance. And this dissonance also permeates within the restoration of Dar ul-Aman…is this a monument to the liberal ideals of an authoritarian leader or the conservative preferences of a democratic Islamic state? Mohammad Yasin Niazi, Kabul municipality representative, claimed that Dar ul-Aman will be “exactly the same as when it was built,” adding that “[w]e are even using the same stone and from the same quarry.”24 The aspiration for verisimilitude and total reconstruction is a type of restorative nostalgia, which can be contrasted with the reflective sort that lingers on ruins.25 Any restoration attempt must find its position between the retrospective and prospective potentials of nostalgia. Perhaps, taking Mariam Ghani’s cue that “[i]n destruction and reconstruction, equally, something is lost,” there is no reason to be skeptical of a total restoration, stone-by-stone, from the same quarry. Except that the stones carry no weight without Amanullah’s ambitious program of state-led, top-down political, economic, and social reform. The palace was intended as a site where people could articulate contested visions of social relations between citizen and state, person and property, and woman and man. Preserving heritage and attracting tourists seem like small and unworthy goals of a ruin that stands as a synecdoche for the complex history of Afghanistan. The nostalgic desire that prompted this restoration could be an opportunity to present an ambitious

23. Ali Karimi, “Street Fights: The Commodification of Place Names in Post-Taliban Kabul City,"Annals of the American Association of Geographers 106 (2016): 738-753. 24. Slobodan Lekic, “Restoration starts on Kabul’s war-ravaged ,” Stars and Stripes, March 1, 2016, accessed May 4, 2016, http://www.stripes.com/news/middle-east/restoration-starts-on-kabul-s-war-ravaged-darul-aman- palace-1.396984. 25. Svetlana Boym, 41.

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Figure 6. Mariam Ghani, A Brief History of Collapses (1-channel HD video with 7.1 channel sound, custom screens and benches, TRT 22:00) installed at dOCUMENTA 13 in 2012 (Photo by Roman Maerz). Figure 7. Roof Structure, Dar ul-Aman Palace, Kabul, November 2011 (Photo by Author).

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Above: Figure 1. Dar ul Aman Palace, Kabul, probably before 1978 (Source: Unknown). Figure 10. “Yad-Gari” close-up, Graffiti, Dar ul-Aman Palace, Kabul, November 2011 (Photo by author). Opposite: Figure 2. Rendering 1, Restoration of Dar ul Aman Palace, 2015 (Source: Ministry of Urban Development Affairs). Figure 3. Rendering 2, Restoration of Dar ul Aman Palace, 2015 (Source: Ministry of Urban Development Affairs). Figure 5. Excerpt, Rendering 4, Restoration of Dar ul Aman Palace, 2015 (Source: Ministry of Urban Development Affairs). Figure 4. Rendering 3, Restoration of Dar ul Aman Palace, 2015 (Source: Ministry of Urban Development Affairs).

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Above: Figure 9. Graffiti, Dar ul-Aman Palace, Kabul, November 2011 (Photo by Author). Opposite: Figure 11. Bank Note, Front, 10 Afghani, circa 1939 (Photo by Author). Figure 12. Bank Note, Back, 10 Afghani, circa 1939 (Photo by Author). Figure 13. Bank Note, Front, 50 Afghani, circa 1978 (Photo by Author). Figure 14. Bank Note, Back, 50 Afghani, circa 1978 (Photo by Author).

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