From Bazaars to Borders

Situating the Placemaking of Kandahar in the 19th Century at the Scale of Tribes & Empires

Written as a final paper in FALL ‘23 for Questions on Architectural History I at Columbia’s Graduate School of Architecture, Planning and Preservation.

Fig. 1. Alfred Concanen, Stannard & Son’s Perspective View of Afghanistan, London, 1878. British Library / Granger.

Physical & metaphysical boundaries formed in the 19th century drastically shaped both the city of Kandahar and Afghanistan’s nationhood at large; determining the social, political, and economic behaviors in the area and relationships between disparate groups. Its central position in Asia made the region of Afghanistan a desirable territory for many competing empires, including the British empire as they encroached from their position in British-colonial India. In addition to dealing with external agents, the native population of Pashtuns also wrestled with tribal divisions and internal moves for power. This primarily took place in Kandahar, the former capital of the nation and homebase for a majority of these Pashtun tribes. The landscape in this period was marked by the way these tensions played out in space, operating at different scales and levels of visibility, and to different extents based on each party’s positionality to a given boundary. This paper will examine the character of both the Pashtun-built walls of the Kandahar Citadel and the British-drawn border named the Durand Line, two critical boundaries developed in the period of the 19th century that each performed militaristic objectives for competing entities– strategically dividing groups and protecting territories–as well as determined economic activities and the regional flow of products and people. These boundaries in relation with specific militaristic achievements also reflect processes of nationalization and abstraction that developed the modern state of Afghanistan, and state building at different scales.

It will trace that transformation of what was once a wall is now a frontier line, dissolving the once material understanding of place into a complex set of networks, foreignly imposed and permanently transfixed through an imaginary boundary. Power becomes steadily embodied through fictional lines as it begins to tie into hierarchies and positionalities that give them authority, rather than through existing patterns followed by the local populace that were informed and maintained by the natural landscape. The drawing (Fig. 1) depicts a perspective overlook of the landscape of Afghanistan, with an onlooker in native garb standing at the bottom left on a sliver of Arabia and a sketched map artistically pinned to the bottom right. Surrounding cities and nations overlay the natural landscape and its sprawling waterways and mountain regions, signaling the relationship to the environment these human settlements followed. The juxtaposition of natural boundaries and political negotiations of space capture the tensions imbued in the landscape at varying scales. Drawn during the onset of the Second Afghan-Anglo War, this image captures the British intention of surveying the occupied territory during the peak of their “Great Game” between Russia, highlighting the anxieties they faced over this rugged terrain as the greatest protection to their colonial asset. Kandahar sits near the center of the map and at the opening point between the mountain ranges that surround it, which demonstrates its significance to the greater region.

Ancient Kandahar

Kandahar has had a long and turbulent history of governance, passing between the hands of empires over the centuries primarily due to its optimal location. The name Kandahar itself is said to be a derivation of Alexander the Great, referred to as “Iskandar”, who formaly founded the city in 330 BC. Seen as the “Key to India”, the city acted as a strategic route in Asia’s heartland, connecting the Near East to India through environmental conditions that naturally reinforced patterns of trade and traffic. The architectures produced out of the social, economic, and political dimensions of the Kandahari region also embodied the natural landscape through its material and construction, as well as the imperial influences and their material and cultural means. The contested land was frequently pulled in opposing directions of the regions it connected, with the Persians to the North and the Mughals from India to the South, while local tribes continuously pushed back. The first traces of the old citadel were built during the occupation of Alexander the Great’s army in 330 BC - capturing some of the farthest extents of their relationship to empire and placemaking, both spatially and temporally.

Fig. 2. Ruins of old Qandahar, c.1879. Watercolour sketch by Lieutenant John Frederick Irwin.

The original Kandahar citadel was a fortress built with an expert understanding of the natural environment. The rugged landscape meant many things; for one, the city sat at an opening point in the mountainous region that created a desirable point of access to trade, while at the same time these natural barriers formed walls of protection for the city. The old citadel was located at the base of the Kaytul ridge and sat atop an artificial mound made from rammed earth, standing about 1,000 feet above the Kandahar plain, and spanning a length of 4,000 from north to south, and 2,000 feet from east to west. Thick walls surrounded the enclosure and the natural barrier from the ridge made it nearly impenetrable. It had been strategically built far from the Argaband river, Kandahar’s main source of water, as the river was subject to annual and unruly flooding that would prove detrimental to a big city - therefore, canals were built along the ridge that would add another layer of protection from natural catastrophe.

As the watercolor sketch (Fig. 2) above captures, the towering citadel created a mountainous break in the flat plane of the landscape. While the surrounding landscape formed many natural boundaries, the monolithic walls of this city added another layer of militaristic protection. Rumored by some to have been 30 feet wide, these thick plinths were ancient and perpetually in ruin - but captured the character of the timeless culture within the walls.

Pashtun Collapse of Persian Conquerers

The decaying city would remain occupied until the invasion of Nadir Shah and his forces. Initially, Kandahar fell under the occupation of the Persian Safavid Dynasty, but in 1722, the insurrection of the Hotaki Pashtuns centralized in Kandahar sparked the end of their 200 year dynasty. The instability that this retaliation created gave way to the rise of one of the most prominent Asiatic conquerors of the period and notable rulers of Iranian history, Nadir Shah, the former head military advisor for the Safavid empire. In a short span of 11 years, he was able to expand his territory from the Caucus Mountains to the Indus River. Part of his transformation to the landscape included his destruction of the Old City of Kandahar in 1738. As a move to establish his reign over the region that toppled his predecessor, he constructed a new city for the inhabitants on a completely different plain which he named Nadirabad. This new city was located only about three miles southeast of Old Kandahar, but without proper knowledge of the landscape and hydrography this location led to its demise. Being on a lower plain than Old Kandahar created a major drainage issue unforeseen by the new Persian emperor, and the unhealthy site was hardly occupied for long. At the same time, this lack of foresight to the landscape reflected his underestimation of the people he conquered - and within a short decade of the city’s completion, Nadir Shah was assassinated by a member of the prominent Abdali Pashtun tribe. Thus, within two generations of rule the Persian empire was knocked on its feet twice by the reverberations of Kandahari Pashtuns.

The end of Persian occupation in Kandahar marked a new period of autonomy for Pashtuns. Having been the tribe that once turned the region over to Nadir Shah, the Abdali Pashtuns under the rule of Ahmad Shah Abdali, changed their tribal name to Durrani, meaning Pearl of Pearls. The significance of this move marked the turn of Afghanistan’s national identity and united the dominant Pashtun tribes, who were now guided by a strong and local political leader. Though the community of Pashtun people are known to have lived in that region for 4000 years, their intense aversion to centralized authority and history of pastoral nomadism and tribalism, along with their perpetual resistance to empire - meant that organizing along the lines of a nation-state did not resonate well with the existing political traditions of these tribes. However, with the arrival of Ahmad Shah and his simple yet sacred induction ceremony, he birthed a new origin story for the Pashtun people and centered them as their own imperial power under the Durrani Empire. Given the fact that the city of Nadirabad was in disrepair, the new king took the opportunity to form a new capital city - meaning the city of Kandahar would be moved for the second time in 250 years.

The Blueprint of Kandahar

Ahmad Shah’s Kandahar would be influenced by both of the previous capital cities - the first for its location and the second for its organization. The new city would be built on an open plain miles away from the Argaband River, at a higher slope than its predecessor to allow for better drainage, while within minimum reach from the arable plain. There were many debates over which tribe would offer the necessary land to build the capital; but in the end it was the Popalzai, a small subtribe of the same Sadozai clan the Durrani tribe shared, who made the sacrifice. The city was first named Ahmadshahi, but as with other cities in the region, the preference for village names “are derived from the lands where they are situated, and not the reverse”, speaking to the mutual respects and primordial relations to the land these peoples shared. Though this site rendered it more exposed than its neighbor The Old Citadel, it would be designed to better fit the modern needs of its inhabitants by prioritizing routes of trade and production of agriculture, while also addressing the advancements in weaponry that would make the open plain a militaristic advantage. Similar to the plan of Nadirabad, the layout of the city would be orthogonal, cut into four quadrants with a central axis and thick walls hugging its edges. (Fig. 3) Along the edge of its perimeter were six gates that were each titled after the city they faced, situating Kandahar’s relationship towards its surrounding region and the primary network of cities that define the greater nation. The fortification of these walls was a strong signal to surrounding empires and unwelcome visitors, but the permeability of the gates opened to many diverse characters with a variety of wares and services and created transnational networks in a localized space.

Fig. 3. Wyld, James, Creator. Kandahar, Afghanistan. London: James Wyld, 1880. Map.

The Map of Candahar (Fig. 3), drawn in 1880 by British forces towards the end of the Second Anglo-Afghan War, captures the layout of the city in great detail from the level of tribes to trades that occupied the city streets. Traced out during a period of British occupation over the city by the renowned British mapmaker James Wyld - this marked a turning point in the documentation of the city as the British were finally able to access the city internally. This opportune moment for the British gave way to many of the renderings of the site that we see today - especially considering they were long unwelcome within the fortified walls they were so desperate to secure. Nonetheless, the historical understanding of the site is warped by the dominant existing and surviving British documentation, signifying larger colonial implications for several reasons. As historical accounts have relayed, the British made many attempts to understand the city of Kandahar primarily as a militaristic strategy to expand their colony or defend it, and though Europeans may have frequented the site for other reasons, their severe disinterest in the site’s beauty and architecture meant it wasn’t worthy enough to be documented or that the documentation was worthy to be kept. Yet still, between the cultural tensions and tumultuous terrain, it proved very difficult for British intel to gather information of its happenings.

One of the earliest known accounts of the city appeared around the peak of its existence in 1783, a decade after the late Ahmad Shah had passed away with cancer and at which point Kandahar no longer remained the capital city. The narrator, George Forster, was departing from his duties with the East India Company and passed through Kandahar under the guise of an Armenian, who were more tolerated in the region. Though Pashtun hospitality is a pillar in their tribal law - the Pashtunwali - this act of kindness was reserved for people of the region and hardly extended to Westerners of any sort. Nevertheless, Forster was able to fully immerse himself in Kandahar using this disguise, whether hospitality was afforded to him or not. His account of the city captured the grand intentions of Ahmad Shah, where constructed market worlds and natural formations in the land would merge. Forster writes,

"This city is more abundantly supplied with provisions and at a cheaper rate, than any place I have seen on the west side of the Indus. The grapes and melons of numerous kinds are peculiarly high flavoured, and are comparable with the first fruits of Europe. The extensive range of shops occupied by Hindoo traders, with the ease and contentment expressed in their deportment, affords liberty and protection…. The environs of Kandahar occupy an extensive plain, covered with fruit gardens and cultivation, which are intersected with numerous streams, of so excellent a quality as to become proverbial; and the climate is happily tempered, between the heats of India and the cold of Ghizni."

His description captures the significance of the agricultural economy in the region, which added another dimension of the site’s strategic importance. Providing food, especially of such a quality and price, was a benefit to locals and travelers alike, but especially helped to support the settlements' own success as its primary export. Although the origin of the name Kandahar has many disputed origins, the folk etymology claims the word “candy” was born from the sweetness of the fruits bore on its soil, again signaling the value of this commodity.

Heart of the City

As the map shows (Fig.3), bazaars cut through the heart of the citadel like arteries that fueled its existence. These demarcations in Kandahar’s plan supported many opportunities for trade but did not stifle other outcroppings and moments of trade across the rest of the city. Four main bazaars stretch through the city; Shah Bazaar, Shikapoor Bazaar, and Herat and Kabul Bazaars. Though painted later in 1847, the above lithographs (Fig. 4 & 5) capture the atmosphere, operation, and material quality of the bazaars. The first image illuminates the “Principle Bazaar”, or Shah Bazaar, from the view of the city center as it is flocking with merchants and propped tents lining the wide architectural edge of the market. The impermanent structure of cloth tents mirror the culture of nomadism that predates the city structure as well as the practical realities of the traveling merchant. As the second image captures, these tented structures would appear throughout the city at a moment’s need with shops having the tendency to encroach on the infrastructure of the city. The tents pictured here in front of the Ahmad Shah Durranni Mausoleum (Fig. 5) serve as food stalls that supply fresh bread, melons, and hanging fruits to the swarms of people fading off into the distance as they leave the city. The significance of the caption is also worth noting, as the most powerful standing monarch in the region’s history, Ahmad Shah’s legacy was so revered that his mausoleum would become a point of asylum for any person, making it one of the few architectural features protected by law. Though the tented shops were found frequently throughout the city, some bazaars had constructed roofs, like the Herat Bazaar (Fig. 6). As the image from 1933 describes, this is one of the most well-trafficked gates - testifying to the importance of Herat to the Kandahar economy, as well as its politics as we will see later. The occupations mentioned in the caption point to the prevailing economic activity of selling vegetables and bread and exchanging currency; necessary trades to sustain a hungry merchant traveling to the city for trade.

Fig. 7. The Afghan War, Central Dome or Char-Su, where Four Chief Streets meet in the City of Candahar. Illustration for The Illustrated London News, 14 August 1880.

The domed four-way crossing of the bazaars at the heart of the city was titled the Charsu, literally meaning four gates, with each road named after the gate it connected to; Darvazah Topkhanah, Darvazah Herat, Darvazeh Kabul, and Darvazah Shikarpur. This shelled structure was like a bullseye on the map and played a stage for much of the public and political performance of the city. As seen in Figure 7, the Charsu created a space for procession in the city as it connected each of the major streets. It most frequently served as a public square for executions, proclamations, and political prisoners put on view. In addition; within the Charsu one could find some of the best shops for arms, writing materials and books, another layered indicator of public needs. It is unknown when this massive dome was constructed, but given its architectural stature and resilience, there is reason to believe it has been up since the inception of the city. The superstructure was constructed with great attention to its engineering; broad, load-bearing ribs supported a network of various sized vaults, creating a rigid framework that would still stand even if the vaults individually collapsed. Though some British scholars would come to discredit the skill of Afghans by assuming the structure to be designed by an Indian architect many indications prove otherwise. As Trousdale describes,

“The form and construction of the Charsu dome fit perfectly within Iranian and Afghan brick architectural tradition (such rib forms appear in the iwans at the Great Mosque of Isfahan), and there is no need to hypothesize foreign expertise in this regard. If the Afghans had been incapable in the first instance of constructing this dome, then they could hardly have possessed the requisite engineering ability to preserve it.”

Though many bricklayers during the time of Ahmad Shah Durranni were of Hindu descent, the bricklaying techniques were specific to the architectural traditions of the region - which were laid with seismic reinforcements for the earthquake ridden terrain.

The material quality and formations of the city’s structures were a response to the resources on the Kandhar landscape. Kandaharis were used to perpetually living in ruin, due to the consistent ransacking and rebuilding that occurred on that plain. Yet, as Kandahar continued to establish itself, the gradual decay of the city could be seen chiefly as an environmental condition. As noted by Masson in 1828,

“the public mosques, and other buildings, are by no means handsome, arising principally, perhaps, from a deficiency of materials; and this evil has been detrimental to the substantial erection of the city generally, the houses being almost universally built of unburnt brick, and covered with domes, there being no fuel to burn bricks, and no timber to make flat roofs.”

Series of domes could be seen throughout the city and appear in many of its representations as a result. The earthen housing was surprisingly resilient, but its impermanence allowed for change and reconstruction as homes were continuously refashioned. Residences of family homes aggregated through the rest of the city with areas demarcated and distributed among the various tribes, and gardens could be seen to spring up between quarters. Beyond these structures also existed a number of markets, mosques, smiths, and makers who supported the other extensive needs of the city. These can be seen in the Plan of Candahar (Fig. 3) concentrated along the four bazaar intersections as they meet at the Charsu, with coppersmiths, saddler smiths, shoe makers, and cloth sellers gathered round the center. The grass market and cattle market can be seen in the north of the town, settled next to each other for obvious convenience.

Before Durranni’s passing, he had expanded the Afghan-led empire in both directions, holding several successful campaigns in India and stretching the extent of his territory into parts of Persia. Though Ahmad Shah’s vision for Kandahar as a bustling market for trade and cultural exchange came to fruition, his ambitions for a royal Pashtun city never fully materialized. His untimely death left the blooming nation without a strong enough leader to wrangle the fiery Pashtuns and tribal leaders, who had hardly considered nationalization a priority before the time of Ahmad Shah and would continue to keep their loyalties to their clan and tribe. Thus, his predecessor and son, Timur Shah, was moved to relocate the capital to Kabul in 1776 while political tensions would continue to bubble in Kandahar. The Durranni empire eventually ended with the succession of the Barakzai tribe, as Dost Mohammed Khan took over the throne in 1826. Leading from the capital city of Kabul, the new emir left Kandahar to be governed by his four brothers, referred to as the sardars. These shahs of the city ruled with an iron fist and imposed heavy taxation upon the residents, while the tumultuous tribal conflict in Kandahar and Baloch provinces would push away any further economic prosperity as traders began to avoid Kandahar on their route. These tribal tensions not only threatened the vision Ahmad Shah held for the city, they created a culture shift that made it increasingly dangerous to trade in the region.

Fig. 8. Men in the decorated palace of Shah Shujah Ool Moolk, Afghanistan. Coloured lithograph by R. Carrick after Lieutenant James Rattray, c. 1847.

British Blunders & Borders

At the same time, former Sadozai ruler Shah Shuja (Fig. 8), who first ruled in 1803 - returned from his exile in Lahore under British influence in order to reclaim his right to the throne. Continuing their colonial practice of installing chieftains and leaders who serve their interests, the British kept Shah Shuja on retainer, awaiting to use him to their advantage. In conjunction with these schemes, the British continued to send emissaries to spy on the Afghan government, including Kashmiri born Mohan Lal, who played a critical role in sharing information with the British government. Shah Shuja’s first attempt to regain his title occurred in 1833 but he was quickly defeated by Dost Mohamad Khan and his sardar brothers. His next attempt took place in 1838 and with greater support from the British was able to successfully capture Kabul. This sparked the First Anglo-Afghan War that lasted from 1839-1842. Upon his coronation, Shah Shuja, referred to by the British as “Sugar and Milk”, was brought in on a promenade through the Charsu. However, Pashtun civilians remained largely unimpressed by his exaltation to power. The painting by Rattray depicts a more celebrated image of the ruler, capturing the skewed representations the British used to define the narrative of their presence in Kandahar. Known to be tyrannical and inhumane to his subjects, the shah's reinstatement did not last very long and he was assassinated in 1842. The British retreated with the fall of the shah they were puppeteering, but their strategizing would continue.

British interest in Afghanistan sparked with an interest in expanding their colonial territory, but was fueled by the fear of Russian expansion into colonial India that became the impetus for the Second Anglo-Afghan War. Considering Afghanistan, and Kandahar in particular, acted as “the only viable land route for a hostile army to enter India”, it rendered Afghanistan an indispensable player in Britain’s conflict with Russia. After the capture of Punjab to the West of the Indus, the British were left with two major decisions; the Stationary Policy vs. the Forward Policy. The former would mean that Britain would double-down on its position in Delhi, while the latter was a drive to integrate Kandahar and Kabul into the frontier of their empire.

Fig. 9. Bijan Omrani, The Durand Line: Analysis of the Legal Status of the Disputed Afghanistan-Pakistan Frontier, 2018.

As the map (Fig. 9) indicates, the frontier had five potential courses it could run through, each pertaining to a natural boundary; i. The River Oxus (Amu-Darya), ii. The Hindu Kush mountain range, from the Pamir Mountains down to Herat or the deserts in the south of Afghanistan; iii. The heights of the Suleiman-koh mountain range; iv. The base of the foothills of the Suleiman-koh mountain range; and v. The Indus River. Each of these natural formations served as a boundary between empires at some point, but the people living in these regions had existed by their own accord on the land, especially the Pashtun hill people living along the iii. & iv. lines on the map (Fig. 9). Bound to their Pashtunwali code, these peoples were deemed unruly and posed a threat to the British, who subsequently attempted and failed to employ their colonial strategies on these tribal people. Unable to colonize the Afghans as they did with their neighbors, and accusing the King of conspiring with Russia, the British shifted to defense in order to protect the crown jewel of their colony and thus in 1978 began the Second Afghan War.

Fig. 10. Save Me from my Friends!, 1878. Artist: Joseph Swain.

Emir Sher Ali, the third son of Dost Mohammad, took reign in 1873 and remained in power until his exile and death in 1879, by which point his son Yaqub was to succeed him. As the sketch shows (Fig. 10), Sher Ali was caught between the looming presence of Russia and Britain who each saw Afghanistan as a fringe to their empire. After their colonizations there was no longer the pull between Mughals and Persians that Afghanistan once had to wrangle with, where the hope to forge prosperous relations in these regions was still in sight. Instead the land would be sparked by grander frictions it found itself trapped between. In some ways, their positionality offered protection as Pashtuns leveraged power from each side - but due to the turbulent tribal dynamics and minimized capacity of the Afghan Army, this meant that the internal divide and political stakes would only be heightened and render them more vulnerable. When the British declared war in 1878, Sher Ali lacked the military force to defend the region and fled to seek Russian assistance, but to his demise he passed away on his travels. Tribal politics became overwhelmingly engorged by the ever-growing forces of imperialism as Russia and British each teamed with a member of a warring bloodline; Ayub Khan (son of Sher Ali Khan) with the Russians and Persians, and his cousin Abdur Rahman Khan who was later backed by the British. Abdur Rahman being seen by some as slightly inferior to his cousin was in part the reason why he was chosen by the British, who needed a ruler they could subdue. But that should not diminish the reputation of the Amir who was able to unite tribal allegiance while navigating the terse political landscape created by the two European powers. Following their defeat at the Battle of Maiwand to Ayub Khan, the Russian-backed ruler of Herat, the British retreated to Kandahar - driving away the local population and taking shelter within the compound in preparation for their next battle, the Battle of Kandahar. Using the city as their defense they would go on to successfully win the fight.

Shortly following, the 1979 Treaty of Gandamak would be signed by Yaqub, which “permitted Afghans to maintain internal sovereignty but forced them to cede control over their foreign policy to the British”. The alleged peace treaty would also annex several frontier districts and grant British asylum in Kabul to supervise their foreign relations, with the much-despised Napoleon Cavagnari appointed as the head of the treaty and mission. This agreement was not unilaterally embraced for obvious reasons, and as a consequence a dissatisfied and unpaid faction of nearly 2,000 soldiers from Yaqub’s Herati army would massacre Cavagnari and his troops. This incident led the British to advantageously overturn parts of their initial agreement, installing their own leader Abdur Rahman Khan as the new Emir and continuing the struggle of the Second War. Desperate to delineate the spheres of influence, Britain set the objective of carving borders for both the Northern and Southern most extents of Afghanistan, which had yet to be demarcated. By 1893, Sir Mortimer Durand was sent to Kabul to negotiate the border lines of what would become their buffer state, creating the much desired separation between the imperial forces at the expense of the Pashtun people.

The Durand Line, as it became referred to, cut along the Suleiman-koh Mountain Range that the British straddle as their frontier (Fig. 9), which also gave them superior firing position and claim over the land. In this way, Afghanistan as a nation became a border between worlds. Demarcations accounted more for geography than ethnography, as the line severed the Pashtun areas tremendously and decisively divided the network of relations between tribes and ethnic groups; as well as patterns of migration that would naturally occur (Fig.11). The areas in British India, what is now Pakistan, contained the hill people among other Pashtun tribes, as well as many other ethnic groups of the area. Today, these regions continue to be referred to as the FATA (Federally Administered Tribal Areas) and are completely disenfranchised from their political systems and former connections to the Pashtunwali, sparking incredible tensions that continue between Afghanistan and Pakistan. To this day the border is disputed, with many Afghan leaders denying the legitimacy of the treaty and the existence of Pakistan on the one hand, and Pakistan building barbed wire fences along the lines mapped out by British hands. If the British could not successfully annex Kandahar they would be able to shape it, pulling the political strings of their border and leadership like a puppet. The state of the nation after the British exit transformed the former political system and dissolved the Pashtun state in ways that no empire had ever accomplished before.

Fig. 11. Afghanistan-Pakistan Border with Predominant Pashtun area marked in blue with lines. Source: University of Texas.

Ransacking the Ruins

In 1880, following their upheaval by local forces, the British demolished the ruins of the ancient Kandahar Citadel, unloading the remainder of their ammunition while Kandahari civilians watched on. Their cannon practice was an added measure to both prevent the need to transport it back to India or surrender of their ammunition to Abdur Rahman’s army. However, the choice to fire on the historic landmark rather than the surrounding mountainous terrain reflected grander British attitudes towards the value of the Kandahar civilization. In this image (Fig. 12), much like the romanticized watercolor shown earlier (Fig. 2), locals sit on an open field before the mountainous ruins, which by this point blend into the scene as part of the earth. The ruins have a deeply political dimension, frequently ransacked by empires and leaving the people to survive in its ruins; it paints a metaphor of the compression of time and space that occurs on the Kandahar plain. The image of the Old Citadel after British destruction was taken by Benjamin Simpson in 1880 as part of a catalog of the city and remains some of the only photographs historians have of it from the 19th century. However, given that 12,000 Kandahari residents were expunged from their homes during the British occupation, the local population is captured in only a few of his photographs.

Cataloging a place without its people follows the colonial view of the land as a resource to extract from and manipulate, rather than the ancient homeland that it had been for the people who made it a place. Their disassociation with the people was yet another reflection of their lack of respect for the historic civilization that remained beneath them. This can be witnessed even in written accounts of the European occupation of the city, which as Trousdale points out “were too inconsequential to be recorded by officers”, and yet it is the “minutiae” moments that were captured that “give us a better ‘feel’ for the times than all the finer phrases of the officers.” In these written and photographed moments we see the ways in which the British roamed about a place they were once forbidden to enter, but through their military occupation they were now able to possess (Fig. 13). Through their pictorial representations they were able to stage their victory in their own image, creating a “misleading picture” of events, but through bystander accounts and significant deaths, we are able to put together a more accurate historical understanding.

Fig. 14. Payne, W. H. Letts's bird's eye view of the approaches to India. [London: Letts, Son & Co. 19--?] Map. 1900.

This early 1900 drawing (Fig. 14) designates the British and Russian drawn borders that dramatically altered the socio-political and cultural landscape. As two British soldiers look beyond the drawn boundary of their colonial estate it captures the imperialistic fears and desires that drove the Great Game. The landscape is much more simplified than the first figure, but that might be as a result of the lost desire to annex the area and rather the understanding of the region as a buffer state to protect their colonial interests from the Russians. There is less sensitivity to the peoples of the area and the occupation of major cities, with greater emphasis on the ruggedness of the landscape and the major arteries of waterways - highlighting peak points of vulnerable penetration or major blockades from enemy forces. The image captures the colonial practice of surveying the land with a political agenda, but also tips towards a process of erasure, disenfranchisement, and disregard that happens to the people on the land as these areas are charted into history. As demonstrated, we understand the historical context of Kandahar through the documents rendered by the British as part of their colonial roundup. Much like the borders they drew, the images captured by the British continue to carve the world’s understanding of Kandahar today imprinting on the landscape and sharing their own story of Afghanistan with the world. The people caught in between stand as a reflection of the land - just as the unbaked brick captures the soil beneath them, they live in the ruins of the walls empires built for them.

Eventually, the walls of Kandahar were undone brick by brick as a new period of politicization took stage, with the rise of globalization and formation of new territories and codes. As natural patterns and behaviors get fortified into beliefs, beliefs become laws, and laws are fortified by walls; and in the instance where these conflict with another comes war. The competing stakes of Kandahar’s placemaking forcefully entangled the people within it. As we witness, the bordered walls of Kandahar gradually translated into the boundaries we see today, which effectively sliced the Pashtun population into parts and landlocked the nation between larger hegemonies. What was once a fluid melding of cultures and peoples became as rigid as the boundaries imposed on it. The progress of Kandahar symbolized a proclivity towards peace between its neighbors, but even still that could only be maintained through the militarization of the Afghan people. At its heart, the story of Kandahar is a story of tribes caught between worlds. Ultimately, Pashtun politics and the constant fight for power between clans led to the downfall of the city as the political state shifted tremendously with the rising forces of globalization that surrounded it. As these processes continued to unfold, the objects of permanence that were left behind by the West gradually became the containers that define our understanding of Kandahar and Afghanistan today.