...born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad

Joking through adversity: The search for comedy in the Muslim world ends here—meet Ahmadullah Mujajo, the funniest man in Kandahar. From the Globe and Mail:

KANDAHAR, Afghanistan — The most famous comedian in Kandahar, Ahmadullah Mujajo, stares at a flickering light bulb. Then he grabs a man by the neck and shakes him furiously, brandishing a shotgun.

"The power turns off, then on, then off," he screams, pointing his gun at the man's head. "Where is the man responsible for this? Where is the director of electricity? I'll track him down!"

In other places, it might be a frightening threat. In Kandahar, it's popular evening television. Mr. Mujajo, 32, is the nearest thing to a celebrity entertainer in a city better known for war than comedy. From his early years struggling to sell his jokes on audio cassettes in refugee camps, to his current status as a local television star, the goofy little trickster with an elastic face has built a career by discovering laughter amid the harshness of southern Afghanistan.

At times, he behaves like a court jester in a city where dissent is dangerous. Ordinary people lower their voices and whisper conspiratorially when discussing the latest rumour, and journalists are regularly threatened by both sides of the conflict. The Committee to Protect Journalists issued its latest of many statements about Afghanistan on July 29, expressing alarm at the arrest of an Afghan television reporter who was detained by intelligence officers one day after airing a documentary that criticized cabinet ministers.

Mr. Mujajo says he tries to avoid similar problems during his daily recording sessions at Hewad TV, a small private station hidden behind high walls in a relatively quiet downtown neighbourhood.

"We don't take sides," he said. "We don't push too hard against the Taliban or the government." But with a mischievous grin, he admits that his job occasionally allows him to get away with bold commentary. Alongside his harmless word play, funny misunderstandings between husbands and wives and off-key musical routines by performers wearing silly costumes, Mr. Mujajo talks about difficult issues.

"We say general things, to avoid trouble: 'Security is not good, electricity is not good, people are moving away from Kandahar, the municipality does nothing about the garbage in the streets.' But we don't say anything about specific leaders."

Still, the barbs are pointed. In a recent sketch-comedy routine, Mr. Mujajo played a reporter throwing questions at a man dressed like a warlord. The warlord character, portrayed with sneering arrogance by a 19-year-old actor wearing a fake mustache and surrounded by an arsenal of weapons, was revealed to be a government minister. It was a reference to the discomfort many Afghans feel about former militia leaders taking senior government jobs.

"Why aren't you building factories to employ our young people?" asked Mr. Mujajo, playing the journalist.

"If we make factories for young people, who will fight? How will I get my money from foreign governments?" responded the minister, waving a pistol for emphasis.

In another sketch, a news broadcaster delivered mock bulletins.

"A tree fell on a taxi, injuring the driver," the newsreader said. "Authorities have blamed Pakistan." A ripple of laughter went through the editing room at Hewad TV, where a dozen of Mr. Mujajo's friends had gathered to show off their work.

Afghan officials reflexively blame Pakistan for so many problems that adding a fallen tree to the list seemed like a witty flourish.

"In economic news," continued the broadcaster, "Everything is more expensive now. Even spoiled Pakistani fruit is selling for high prices. The NGOs try to help by giving us wheat, but people steal it and smuggle it out of the country." Again, snickers of amusement filled the room.

Afghans have a history of laughing at their own misfortune. Prisoners smile as they describe suffering torture, and policemen crack jokes as they tell stories about escaping insurgent attacks. A profile of the Pashtun ethnic group, published in 1947 by the poet Ghani Khan, describes the way a quintessential Pashtun handled a lifetime of hardship: "He always covered his sorrow with a smile, and his pain with a joke."…

Funny, we Jews have been doing the same thing for centuries. Here’s one:  A Jew is sitting on a train in the early days of the Third Reich, reading the Nazi rag, Der Sturmer. An acquaintance, another Jew, enters the compartment, and registers shock upon seeing what the Jew is reading.

“Why are you reading that trash, that filth?” asks the new arrival.

“Why?” replies the first Jew. “Because I see all around me how our people are suffering—how they beat us and spit at us and steal from us, and how we’re powerless to stop them. But I read in here how we control everything—the press, the banks, foreign governments and the entire world—and I feel much better.”

Posted by: scaramouche at 10:00 | link | comments

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