In 2006, Waise Azimi flew into Kabul to film a documentary. He knew the subject he wanted: the training of Afghan army recruits. But he didn’t know how to get access. So Azimi, an Afghan-American based in the Philippines, called Michael Tucker, who made the Iraq documentary Gunner Palace. Tucker was dismayed that his phone number could be easily found on the Internet, but told Azimi what to do: call the US-led coalition.
Two weeks later Waise (sounds like “wise”) Azimi was an embedded journalist at the Kabul Military Training Center, filming the creation of the 55th Battalion of the Afghan National Army under the supervision of coalition forces, mostly US soldiers. The resulting film, Standing Up, vividly chronicles the struggles these men face during basic training. It makes its Taiwan debut tomorrow night as the opening film for this year’s Urban Nomad Film Fest.
“I think the US military’s new relationship with the press, the goal is to, instead of pushing them away, to bring them very close and to make them in a very sort of informal way a part of their order of battle,” Azimi said in a phone interview on Tuesday from Manila.
PHOTO: COURTESY OF WAISE AZIMI
The purpose of giving a journalist embedded status, he said, is “not necessarily to monitor or control what you see, but to control what you think you see. [When] you put a flack jacket on, you put a gun in [a journalist’s] hand, you draw this reporter into some sort of camaraderie with coalitions soldiers … . He’s less likely to write a damning article about the guy he’s been living with for months.”
The son of an official at the Asian Development Bank, Azimi, 27, grew up in Manila and graduated with a degree in sociology from a liberal arts college in New York state. He shot his first film, Afghanistan After, about the lives of ordinary Afghans a year after the fall of the Taliban, while still a university student. He got the idea to do Standing Up after reading Absolutely American, a book that follows cadets at the US Military Academy in West Point.
Azimi said obtaining permission to film US and Afghan officers and non-commissioned officers training recruits was “surprisingly easy.” Following Tucker’s advice, he called the US embassy in Kabul, which connected him with the Camp Eggers public affairs office. They asked to see his proposal and scheduled a meeting two weeks later. At the meeting they told him they were waiting for a legal review, but otherwise their only request was that he send a copy of the film when it was finished. Azimi could film everything except Special Forces troops and base security.
The process was “really straight-forward and hassle-free,” he said, because “there isn’t that much of a media presence” in Afghanistan compared to Iraq. “They want people to tell stories,” he said.
Still, as a member of the media, Azimi encountered “a lot of initial mistrust” from soldiers. “There was a lot talk about liberal media and how journalists only talk about the bad things,” he said.
Azimi feels that perception is misguided: “On the balance of things, I would argue that, if a reader is mindful enough, they can read enough sources to put together a fairly accurate picture of what’s going on in Iraq and Afghanistan — as long as they’re not just relying on Fox News or the New York Times.”
Surprisingly, he was only told to stop filming twice during the four months he spent documenting the 55th battalion. The first was when a US drill sergeant was having a conversation with his Afghan counterpart. The soldier felt Azimi was undermining his ability to control and extend his authority over the situation.
The second came when one of the film’s main characters, an Afghan recruit, accidentally discharged his AK-47.
“The Afghan officers around him immediately swarmed around him and began kicking the shit out of him,” Azimi said.
The young American second lieutenant in charge of the camp’s Combat Arms section — who had been away when Azimi was granted permission to film and was not pleased to find him there on his return — told Azimi to stop filming.
“I kept on filming for a little while longer,” Azimi said. “He said if you continue to film he would have my access revoked. And then I stopped filming.”
Ironically, soon after he turned his camera off, US soldiers from the Combat Arms section arrived to break up the fight.
Azimi already had plenty of footage of abuse in the program by Afghan officers, many of whom were trained by the Soviets, ranging what he characterized as “moderately repugnant” to “severe and criminal.”
It was “very irritating,” Azimi said, “because I found a great group of soldiers, and they were very sincere about trying to do a good job. And part of that was stepping in to help this recruit when his drill sergeants started to whale on him. People [who watch the film] will see the beatings and that’s all they will see.”
Standing Up is not Michael Moore-style agit-prop. Nor is it the kind of Discovery Channel-style documentary that imposes a narrative arc on its subject. There are no good guys or bad guys: Azimi sought out to show what life was like for Afghan recruits and the US soldiers who train them and in the process of editing the film remain as “true to the spirit” of what he witnessed as possible.
“It’s a very well-made movie. It’s the kind of movie that will have a hard time getting international distributorship,” said Urban Nomad organizer (and former Taipei Times reporter) David Frazier. “It’s unfortunate that it will be consigned to limited exposure in indie events — but at the same time, we’re really happy to show it.”
Asked why he had not edited his film to make it more cable-TV-friendly, Azimi said: “Life is not a neat introduction, a climax and a denouement. I didn’t set forth to make an argument. I set forth to be witness to an experience.”
Standing Up shows tomorrow night at 8:45pm at Capone’s restaurant, 312, Zhongxiao E Rd Sec 4, Taipei City (台北市忠孝東路四段312號). Azimi will be present to introduce the film and participate in a question-and-answer session afterwards. There is no minimum charge but viewers are expected to purchase a meal or drinks. Seating is limited. Call (02) 2773-3782 for reservations. For more information on the Urban Nomad Film Fest, which runs through May 2 in Taipei, before moving to Hsinchu, visit urbannomadfilmfest.blogspot.com and see coverage in the Around Town section of Friday’s Taipei Times.
When nature calls, Masana Izawa has followed the same routine for more than 50 years: heading out to the woods in Japan, dropping his pants and doing as bears do. “We survive by eating other living things. But you can give faeces back to nature so that organisms in the soil can decompose them,” the 74-year-old said. “This means you are giving life back. What could be a more sublime act?” “Fundo-shi” (“poop-soil master”) Izawa is something of a celebrity in Japan, publishing books, delivering lectures and appearing in a documentary. People flock to his “Poopland” and centuries-old wooden “Fundo-an” (“poop-soil house”) in
Jan 13 to Jan 19 Yang Jen-huang (楊仁煌) recalls being slapped by his father when he asked about their Sakizaya heritage, telling him to never mention it otherwise they’ll be killed. “Only then did I start learning about the Karewan Incident,” he tells Mayaw Kilang in “The social culture and ethnic identification of the Sakizaya” (撒奇萊雅族的社會文化與民族認定). “Many of our elders are reluctant to call themselves Sakizaya, and are accustomed to living in Amis (Pangcah) society. Therefore, it’s up to the younger generation to push for official recognition, because there’s still a taboo with the older people.” Although the Sakizaya became Taiwan’s 13th
Earlier this month, a Hong Kong ship, Shunxin-39, was identified as the ship that had cut telecom cables on the seabed north of Keelung. The ship, owned out of Hong Kong and variously described as registered in Cameroon (as Shunxin-39) and Tanzania (as Xinshun-39), was originally People’s Republic of China (PRC)-flagged, but changed registries in 2024, according to Maritime Executive magazine. The Financial Times published tracking data for the ship showing it crossing a number of undersea cables off northern Taiwan over the course of several days. The intent was clear. Shunxin-39, which according to the Taiwan Coast Guard was crewed
China’s military launched a record number of warplane incursions around Taiwan last year as it builds its ability to launch full-scale invasion, something a former chief of Taiwan’s armed forces said Beijing could be capable of within a decade. Analysts said China’s relentless harassment had taken a toll on Taiwan’s resources, but had failed to convince them to capitulate, largely because the threat of invasion was still an empty one, for now. Xi Jinping’s (習近平) determination to annex Taiwan under what the president terms “reunification” is no secret. He has publicly and stridently promised to bring it under Communist party (CCP) control,