Animation in the Middle East

Practice and Aesthetics from Baghdad to Casablanca

Stefanie Van de Peer, Stefanie van de Peer

• Editorial: I.B. Tauris
• Año: 2017
• ISBN:
  9781786721716
• Edición: 1
• Categoría: Media & Performing Arts
• Categoría: Film & Video

The internationally acclaimed films Persepolis and Waltz with Bashir only hinted at the vibrant animation culture that exists within the Middle East and North Africa. In spite of censorship, oppression and war, animation studios have thrived in recent years - in Egypt, Iran, Iraq, Lebanon, Morocco, Palestine, Syria and Turkey - giving rise to a whole new generation of entrepreneurs and artists. The success of animation in the Middle East is in part a product of a changing cultural climate, which is increasingly calling for art that reflects politics. Equally, the professionalization and popularization of film festivals and the emergence of animation studios and private initiatives are the results of a growing consumer culture, in which family-friendly entertainment is big business. Animation in the Middle East uncovers the history and politics that have defined the practice and study of animation in the Middle East, and explores the innovative visions of contemporary animators in the region.

1

Restoring Cultural Historical Memories: Animating Folktales to Form New Iraqi Identities

Amber Shields¹

‘Always a Phoenix’: The Rebirth of the Past

… always a phoenix …

Because I have seen many wars and much violence, discrimination and abuse, my vision is to build life affirming compositions drawing from history and nature, ingrained with life, rebirth, compassion and healing, juxtaposing destruction and reconstruction to create works of hope in humanity and life.

Furat Al-Jamil²

At the top of her blog, Iraqi-German artist Furat Al-Jamil has placed the three words ‘always a phoenix’. Bookended by ellipses, it is a line with no defined story preceding or following from it. Yet despite these uncertainties, one thing is clear: the mythical phoenix symbolises the hope that out of the ashes of its unknown past it will be reborn and fly into a new future.

Al-Jamil’s short animation Baghdad Night (2013) exemplifies this myth. Drawing on Iraqi folklore, her work retells the story of the Sa’luwa, a succubus who bewitches men. An enduring figure, she appears in works ranging from oral folktales to The One Thousand and One Nights. Intertwined with, and working to preserve, this evidence of a rich cultural heritage, Al-Jamil’s animation is a rebirth of the traditional tale. Her modern version unfolds in a noir-styled rendition of Baghdad where, over the course of three nights, the Sa’luwa seduces a young taxi driver. The choice to reanimate this cultural historical memory through animation is intriguing, for though Iraq has played a part in transnational animation projects in the past, an industry or even a notable trajectory for animation has yet to develop in a country where a lack of history, infrastructure and trained specialists forestall this industry’s growth.

Iraqi cinema history has been dependent on the drastic historical shifts the country has undergone since the 1920s. Cinematic activity started to take shape during that decade, but it took until the 1940s, with British and French investment, before any significant filmmaking initiatives began. The Baghdad Studio was set up in 1948, to be replaced in 1959 by the Cinema and Theatre General that, under the auspices of the Ministry of Culture and Guidance, aimed to espouse the political goals of the regime. Insurgencies, war and autocratic rule further shaped cinema development as grand film projects were limited to propagandistic productions and audiences avoided public spaces like cinemas because of the dangers of war. It was not until 1968 that Norman Emberson Hoy was sent to Baghdad by UNESCO to explore the possibility of setting up a viable animation studio in the country. As he reported: ‘There has never been any cartoon animation in Iraq, so the “development” was in fact a beginning.’³ Hoy was there to ‘establish the mechanics to enable cartoon animation’ while ‘investigating the sources of talent for its creation’. Though he found the country under-equipped, Hoy noted a considerable interest in the art form. Working with enthusiastic and versatile technicians enabled him to set up a nascent studio to create basic animated films.

The Iraqi Baath Party came to power during Hoy’s stay in Iraq. The films he was requested to facilitate were ‘largely connected with information, education and culture’, in line with the Baath Party’s developing power and its position towards film. Apart from a televised animation initiative in the 1980s (described below), it was not until 2005 that any information regarding developing animation initiatives could be found related to Iraq or Iraqi artists. In 2005 Iraqi theatre and television director Thamer Al-Zaidi directed the feature-length Ibn Al-Ghabah (The Jungle Kid) in exile. This Kuwait-based production featured a pan-Arab cast and was based on a story from the book Hai bin Yaqzan by twelfth-century Andalusian scholar Ibn Toufyl.

The country’s limited animation history, as well as the contemporary working conditions in Iraq which added great complications to the creation of Al-Jamil’s technologically advanced piece, raise questions as to the decision to use animation in Baghdad Night. This chapter explores the contributions of animation to this film and how this particular form of representation adds another layer of rebirth to traditional storytelling as it transitions to new media platforms.

The legend of the phoenix parallels the turmoil and actual fire that the Sa’luwa story endured in order to be reborn into its current state. As an Iraqi animation project, it was shaped by the recent decades of external and civil conflict that continue to physically, politically, economically and culturally devastate the country. One casualty of these ongoing conflicts has been the link to the past from which the tale originates. Lina Khatib proposes that one of the questions to be investigated as Iraq looks to move forward is how the country can address the relics of the past.⁴ Though cultural heritage projects may not seem as the most pressing concern in a country still grappling with re-establishing basic amenities, quelling violent uprisings and forming a stable government, they offer a way of restoring ties to a unifying cultural heritage that are essential as Iraq struggles to build a new identity and a more peaceful future.

Furat Al-Jamil’s Baghdad Night is one of these projects. Central to this essay is an exploration of how one folktale’s rebirth through animation contributes to the restoration of Iraq’s ruptured connection to its past. It proposes what is termed here ‘cultural historical memory’ as playing a part in re-establishing links to the past to aid in the healing process after dramatic historical ruptures. The case of Al-Jamil’s animated folktale is an example of how cultural heritage is reinvented in and for the present context, serving as a cultural historical memory that seeks to unify people according to cultural affinities rather than national or religious dictates. Furthermore, it underscores how animation appeals to the younger generations who, most dramatically split from the past, must necessarily be included in this reconciliation process as they offer the hope for the future.

This chapter explores the creation and conveyance of cultural historical memories, as well as identity formation, through the arts and cinema generally, and through animation specifically. Firstly it presents an examination of Iraq’s use of historical memory in creating a collective identity,⁵ followed by an exploration of how projects relating to folklore, like Al-Jamil’s, play a role in collective identity formation through cultural historical memory. Secondly it proposes Baghdad Night as critically engaged with the examined issues and the process of restoring a collective Iraqi identity. In its examination of the specifics of Al-Jamil’s project and its use of folklore and animation, this chapter shows the importance of cultural heritage restoration in national reconstruction processes. As Iraq still struggles to reconnect with the past, establish itself in the present and envision its future, projects like Baghdad Night will play a significant role in shaping what is reborn out of the ashes.

Preserving Cultural Heritage through Cultural Historical Memory

Iraq’s present struggle to restore its ruptured links to the past is not just a response to recent conflicts, but is an issue Iraq has been acutely aware of since its emergence as a nation-state in 1921.⁶ This connection to the past is important for emerging states looking to define themselves as historical memory can be a tool of legitimation. Focusing on the Baath Party’s reign from 1968 to 2003, political scientist Eric Davis examines how history, memory and culture were used to shape an Iraqi national identity to reflect the Party’s values and legitimise its rule.⁷ This effort included a promotion of folklore, with the state sponsoring folklore centres, journals and formal studies, as a means for the Baath Party to, according to Tareq Y. Ismael and Max Fuller, secularise and instil a ‘sense of Iraqi nationhood or “Iraqi-ness” […] that progressively supplanted one’s identity as Sunni, Shiite, Christian.’⁸ These undertakings reinforced a common Iraqi identity centred on a proud heritage.

Film also served to reinforce this sense of identity and the Party’s political decisions. Cinema was heavily controlled and censored by the Baathist state, leading to the production of several nationalist films. These films would often call upon historical memories to justify current political actions. For example, Al-Qadisiya (Salah Abu Sayf, 1981) portrayed the conquest of Iraq by the Sasanians to garner support for the war against Iran, while Al-Malik Ghazi (King Ghazi, Muhammad Shurki Jamil, 1993) was an epic film created to justify the invasion of Kuwait. Cinema also contributed to modern mythologising of Iraq’s recent past in Al-Ayyam Al-Tawila (The Long Days, Salih Tawfiq, 1980) with its re-imagining of Saddam Hussein’s position in the country’s history. During this period, Iraq produced its first animation for television, which contributed to this fascination with historical memory. In 1982, Iraqi Television and The Arabic Centre for Animation Films funded the international co-production Al-Amira Wal-Nahr (The Princess and the River, Faisal Al-Yassiri), portraying a long ago, if not necessarily far away, fairytale story. However, the strict impositions that the Baath Party put on cinematic production crippled the industry. The problem was compounded by the trade boycott against Iraq making shooting materials scarce, and resulted in a fall in production after 1991, limiting animation to a few TV series.⁹

While the state did indeed succeed in cultivating some sense of ‘Iraqi-ness’, the Baath Party’s association with this identity proved unfavourable after their removal from power. The disintegration of the Baathist state had two major consequences: the country’s physical destruction as well as the intangible destruction of Iraq’s national identity and cultural heritage. According to Al-Jamil, a lack of cultural references in Iraq’s education curriculum, combined with increased religious fanaticism, materialism and corruption, ‘has led Iraq’s population to become alienated from their country’s rich cultural heritage.’¹⁰ As resources are directed towards rebuilding more concrete facets of society and with the alienation that sectarian violence promotes, these parts of cultural heritage are at risk of being lost forever.

The tangible ramifications of this threat can already be seen in the destruction of physical symbols of the country’s cultural heritage. Since the 2003 Coalition forces’ invasion and the fall of Saddam Hussein, there has been a widespread movement on both official and unofficial levels to rid the nation of all cultural symbols erected by his party and, consequently, the national identity constructed under the Baathists.¹¹ This process of ‘de-Baathification’ or ‘de-culturalisation’ has resulted in the loss of not only markers of the more recent past, but of Iraq’s Mesopotamian legacy as well, overall threatening the sense of identity built around cultural historical memories.¹² Here, the deliberate destruction in disproportionate...