War aksi have been characterized as a poorly constructed type of oriental rug, a commercial product made by refugees of the Afghan-Soviet War with meaningless repetitive images of military machines without genuine aesthetic appeal (Lewis, 1995). Recently I uncovered an example that seems different from such a negative description, one which conveys a unique expressive quality. It takes the ground level point of view of civilian victims to mass bombing and destruction during the war. This pile carpet will be described with a note as to its possible significance as a psychological statement and as a precursor for war aksi in general.
The field design on the rug (see figure 1) is divided into a two part sequential frame from top to bottom much as with a comic strip. The top portion shows masses of fighter-bombers on the left, helicopters and tanks on the right, with what may be a 1000 kg bomb (with hammer and sickle insignia) about to drop on an accurately drawn map of Afghanistan. The second frame shows incendiary explosions in red across a green valley. The map of Afghanistan has become flipped over from right to left, and the green valley and mountains within also are shifted in opposition from their position in the upper half of the rug. In the bottom frame there is a message in Dari (a provincial form of Persian) regarding which I have obtained a rough translation. Certain letters in Farsi and parts of words seem unclear or missing but the general meaning seems to be "the king has fled, and our village is under attack, raise the flag and send help."
Here we witness a very personalized reaction to war as pictured in the rug design. There is both a message written in local language (not in English as might be featured in an export product), and also a glimpse into the subjective panorama in the weaver's mind set off by exploding bombs leading to an image of a pounding and turning of the whole earth on its axis. Such a representation of an action sequence from top to bottom frames within the main field is a marked departure from the usual method of rug weaving that attempts to achieve a balanced design employing traditonal colors and patterns within a single main field. It is instead an emotional product (as seen in the plea for help) refined enough to use an imaginative design to construct a dynamic expressive meaning in graphic imagery.
In this war aksi other details that reflect a struggle for survival against death and destruction seem to have been chosen, consciously or otherwise. A psychological perspective encourages a view of such details, particularly those within an artistic design, with an alertness for universal symbolic meaning. Often in oriental rugs, the motifs in an outer border strip may complement the design in the field of the carpet. Here in the single main border we see the repeated figures of a scorpion with arched tail barbed with poison, and what can be seen as an image of the sun missing some of its corner rays (see figure 2). This is a very unusual border design. With the scorpion (associated in most mythologies with darkness and death) and the sun (a symbol of light and life-giving substance) there is an interplay of forms representative of the cycle of life and death. These meanings emerge from a universal symbolic language, common across cultures. It is seen in the mythology of the Near East where Ishtar, theBabylonian goddess of love and war, has a destructive aspect often symbolized by scorpions (Neumann, 1974). Similarly in Mithraism, a mystery religion of Persian origin, the scorpion represents death as part of an endless cycle of decay and life renewal. The red sun with missing rays (a repetition of the theme of being attacked) speaks to the rejuvination of life as in the setting sun that moves towards its own eclipse by darkness, becomes the rising sun, and then returns whole again. The two large bird-figures repeated top and bottom on the sides are also in a sense unusual border-like elements that frame the field design perhaps as a counterpart to the scene depicted. These companion birds resemble one another (open aggressive beaks), yet have opposite qualities (one is rose outlined in brown, and vice-versa. They are shown to have switched sides in the two frames, yet they remain joined at the tail. Such an interaction seems to hint at a common cycle involving certain qualities in opposition (life and death) set in motion by the bombing. As objects of fantasy mythical winged beings often represent a particular wish or intuitive belief. Here their probable identity is that of the crimson phoenix (a fabled eagle size bird that in an act of sacrifice is consumed by fire and then arises youthful from its own ashes). Such iconography may have been conceived as a sort of talisman pertaining to the expectation that life and light will arise from the death and darkness of the Afghan-Soviet War.
There are other details which seem more personalized, and therefore are more difficult to interpret. For example in the upper frame there are what appear to be four initials in Dariwritten from right to left. Is this another message or only for decorative purpose? Also the images of the large bomb in both upper and lower frames has some inscription or symbol written sideways which seems indecipherable. These obscure details do not detract from an appreciation of the expressive design on the rug, although one wonders about their possible meaning.
Also somewhat puzzling is the absence of human figures as the direct victims and perpetrators of war. In an artistic expression of such a psychological trauma there is no attempt to memorialize the village dead or to demonize the enemy soldiers.
perhaps this seemingly detached position relates to the imagery which we discussed earlier that grasped in symbolic terms the repetitive cycle of life and death which obscures an individual's brief painful existence. Elsewhere within this iconography there is a hint of self-sacrifice as something necessary (the sun moving freely into nightly eclipse, the dying then resurgent phoenix) which may touch upon the perception of an inevitable suffering during war.
This Baluch carpet is wool on wool and measures 43" by 31" with a 3" kilim with knotted wool fringe on each end. It had been brought to Boston by an Afghan native from Kabul who sold it to a local rug dealer in 1990.
I suspect that this rug is from the early 1980's and is a genuine example of an artistic expression of the psychological trauma experienced by civilians in the Afghan-Soviet War. Such singular examples are probably one basis for the typical war aksi designs which were produced in great numbers in the later 1980's as a commercial export product. Rugs with inconspicuous war motifs (also rarely seen in the Boston area) may have been a transitional stage to mass produced "war rugs." In these later rugs the urgent plea in Dari has become meaningless words in English or Russian, the dynamic design has turned into crowded repetitive war machines on parade, and the unusual time frame sequence (not a traditional element of rug design) has disappeared.
References:
Lewis, Charles N., "War aksi, traumatic imagery or economic survival," Oriental Rug Review, 15/3 (1995), pp. 15-17.
Neumann, Erich, The Great Mother, Princeton University Press, Princeton, N.J., 1974