In honor of Titanic’s 25th anniversary, the iconic movie will be shown in movie theaters on February 10th this year.
Because of how iconic this movie was internationally, there is an interesting story behind how the people in Afghanistan were able to see the movie when it was released, as they were under Taliban rule.
All forms of entertainment were outlawed in Afghanistan when the Taliban initially took power there in the 1990s. Residents of Kabul and other cities frequently describe finding video and audiotape ribbons that were torn to pieces as if they had also been executed.
Before turning on a radio or television, those who dared did so after covering the windows with large blankets and heavy curtains to block any light that might be seen by onlookers.
All forms of entertainment were outlawed in Afghanistan when the Taliban initially took power there in the 1990s. Residents of Kabul and other cities frequently describe finding video and audiotape ribbons that were torn to pieces as if they had also been executed.
Haris was only 12 when he first heard about the American film “with a beautiful woman and a sinking ship” that everyone in Kabul seemed to be whispering about in the late 1990s.
“Everywhere we turned, people were talking about it,” says Haris, who asked that his last name not be used.
Afghans had to be careful about how they expressed their enthusiasm for the movie due to the Taliban’s limitations on images, music, and movies. “Titanic” became a phenomenon that was both all-pervasive and concealed just enough to elude the careful eyes of the Islamic Emirate, which punished anyone not adhering to its rigid interpretation of Islam, like so many other cultural trends during the first Taliban era.
“In the market, there would be pictures of the film, toy boats started to appear everywhere, even gum packets had pictures of it,” but only if you knew who to ask, says Haris.
The idea of seeing a rakish boy chasing a girl around “a giant boat” proved impossible for a young boy who had grown up amidst the rocket fire of rival warlords and, eventually, the litany of restrictions imposed by the Taliban. As a result, he devised a plan with a neighbor, another young boy, to get their hands on a copy.
Haris and his companion genuinely wanted to buy a copy of the movie to retain, even though most people leased it for anything between 3,000 and 8,000 Afghanis every night. Like many other young lads at the time, they had heard about the iconic “draw me like one of your French chicks moment.”
At least ten times as much would be spent on this as on a single night’s rental. They therefore struggled and saved for about two months to amass the cash to buy it.
“We were the oldest boys in our families, so we were constantly running errands. Every time we went to the market, we’d sneak away a few Afghanis or ask for extra chores. We’d even hold onto some of our lunch money at school.”
When the time came to purchase the movie, they realized it would be too unsafe to go more than 10 kilometers from their homes in north Kabul to what had formerly been known as the Titanic Market in the dried-up Kabul River.
Instead, they went to a local man who would prowl the streets at night “like a drug dealer,” pulling cassettes and DVDs out of a bag so their parents wouldn’t know they had spent so much money on a movie, especially one known to have a risqué moment.
Haris’ story was like thousands of other boys in Afghanistan at the time.
The length of people went to watch Titanic may seem excessive, but actually, it was a source of hope for them at the time.
At that point, Afghanistan had been through a war, and when the Taliban ruled Afghanistan, even though they ended the war, that didn’t necessarily mean their lives improved.
On the contrary, people’s lives started to feel like prison. Not being allowed to have television or any form of media other than the Quran is what drove people to extreme lengths just to watch a beautiful love story unfold.
