This Is Not The Kite You Had In Years Gone By
by Aero-News Senior (and occasional Foreign) Correspondent,
Kevin R.C. "Hognose" O'Brien
Pakistani kite-flying
enthusiasts, denied their sport by a court ruling, protested in
front of the Pakistani Supreme Court in Lahore; the protest got
physical and riot police subdued it vigorously with riot
batons.
The kite enthusiasts had gathered in hopes that a ban imposed
last month was going to sunset last Friday. Instead, the court
extended it, and scheduled a new hearing in January. The outcome
might be an outright ban on the popular sport of kite flying -- and
kite fighting.
if you're not Pakistani or Afghan, you're probably asking
questions like, "Why would anybody fight, let alone riot, over
kites?" If you are, you might be asking, "How dare that court do
such a thing!"
The Sport In Question
Boys and young men dedicate themselves to making a kite that
will fly high, fast, and above all, be controllable -- for the
object of the sport is to cut the string of other kites with the
string of your own. The string is given an abrasive coating of
glued-on powdered glass to enhance its ability to cut other strings
-- and here's where the problem comes. Because the string will not
only cut kite strings, but also, anything else it encounters. The
kite flyers' hands are normally cut to ribbons and bloody by the
end of a competition.
But last month in Lahore, a string ran across the throat of a
spectator, a young girl. There have been other deaths, too. Boys
have run off roofs or into traffic in an attempt to chase the
cut-off kites (bringing in the trophy is worth extra points, as it
were). And a bunch of people of good will went to the Pakistani
court and said that innocents were dying out there; "do something."
Hence the ban that brought the protesters out Friday.
The Cultural Importance Of Kite Fighting Can't Be
Overestimated
This is a major sport
played by Afghan and Pakistani men and boys, and it has its roots
in the fiercely competitive Pushtun (also called Pathan) tribal
culture. It's a warrior culture: the President of Afghanistan is
Pushtu; so are the leaders of the Taliban; so are many of the best
generals in the Pakistani armed forces.
The older men may not participate in the kite-flying directly
any more, but they are still involved, as enormous sums (by Pushtun
standards) are wagered on the events.
On of the reasons the Taliban were hated was their ban on kite
flying and kite fighting. Mullah Omar's theory was simple: it
wasn't explicitly authorized by the Holy Koran, ergo, out with it.
Of all the immense catalog of barbarities of that benighted regime:
the murders, the abuse of women, the wanton destruction of
antiquities -- the kite-flying ban might have been the one most
cited by former Taliban who rallied to our side.
An entertaining and culturally=accurate novel that hinges on the
sport through the last thirty or so years of Afghan politics (and
for many Afghans, years of American exile), the Kite Runner, by
Khaled Hosseini was a surprise best seller last year. Highly
recommended for the reader in your family, to anybody interested in
Afghanistan or that part of the world, and for anybody who likes a
good tale told well. It might help explain why kite bans made grown
men riot in the streets of Lahore or change sides in the war.
When Kite Fighting Came To America
An Afghan-American friend described to me how the influx of
Afghan refugees that have settled in California brought the sport
with them. "You know, we were new in the country, and didn't speak
good English yet. So my brothers and I are in the park and we see
people flying kites. Great! We can participate! So we made a kite
-- but no one attacked us, and then when we cut their strings they
got mad at us. We're going, 'What's with these losers, they don't
want to play?' and some guy is saying, 'You cut off my kid's kite
and made him cry, and I'm gonna bust your nose.' And with the
language barrier it took a while to figure it out. Oops.
Sorry!"
As more Afghans moved into the area, an amicable solution was
found -- separate corners of the park for Southwest Asian
kite-fighting and North American kite playing -- and everybody's
happy. My friend escaped a beating and still has the nose God gave
him, and nobody has made a little kid cry in a long time.
But if the Pakistani guys whose sport is now banned find out
that it's still legal in Fremont, California, there's not telling
what'll happen next.