From the start of baseball’s World Series and Hurricane Sandy in the Caribbean to the hajj pilgrimage to Mecca and people dressed as pandas, TIME presents the best images of the week.
Nobody expected Sadaf Rahimi, the female boxer originally selected to represent Afghanistan at the Olympic Games this week, to do well in the ring. The mere fact that she would be representing her country was triumph enough. To get to the selection stage, she had to fend off social opprobrium, religious condemnation and even the disapproval of some of her own coaches who believed that women’s boxing shouldn’t go any further than the hobby stage. Rahimi won every one of those battles. Her path to London was but the latest leg of an extraordinary journey for Afghanistan’s women, who, little more than a decade ago, were forced to stay at home, denied the right to obtain an education, to work — and to play sports. She might have won over her countrymen, but in the end, she couldn’t make it past the International Boxing Association (AIBA), who decided on July 18 that she could not compete, citing concerns that boxing against opponents of much higher standards might threaten her safety in the ring. Not only is this a disappointment for Rahimi, her family and the aspirations of female Afghan athletes, it strikes a blow to the International Olympic Committee’s goal to have female athletes represent every country, just a week after Saudi Arabia, the last holdout, reluctantly agreed to send two female athletes.
(For daily coverage of the 2012 Games, visit TIME’s Olympics blog)
Rahimi had been preparing for the Olympics since February, when she was first notified that she would receive what is known as a wild-card invitation — a special berth granted to nations that would not otherwise be able to qualify an appropriately skilled athlete. Later that month she traveled to the U.K. to train in a special AIBA boxing camp, where she had her first taste of Olympic-caliber boxing. At first, she told TIME, she was getting knocked down “two to three times a day.” But by the end of the two-week program, she was starting to hold her own in the ring. Still, she was sanguine about her chances in London. “I am sure I will be punched like a bag. Like I am a pillow being pummeled,” she told TIME in April. “Whether I win a medal or not, I will be a symbol of courage as soon as I step into the ring.”
It is unclear why the AIBA waited until just over a week before the Olympics to revoke Rahimi’s invitation. In May, when Rahimi attended the women’s world boxing championships in China, her fight was stopped short, after a minute and 20 seconds, because she was doing so poorly. Her coach, as well as the Afghan National Olympic Committee, felt that her performance in China was an aberration, saying she had performed well in other international competitions. Rahimi, say close friends in Kabul, is disappointed. But she is looking forward to competing in other international events and still holds out hope that with a few more years to train, her chances in Rio 2016 will be even better. And back at home, in the ramshackle studio Rahimi shares with Afghanistan’s other boxers, she has already started winning some converts to her side. As the women’s club trickled out of the gym to make way for the men’s boxing team a few months ago, I stopped to ask one of the men’s coaches what he thought about the idea of women boxing. “At the beginning it was strange,” admitted Sayed Haroon. “Everything new is strange at first, but you can get used to anything if you see it enough times.” Rahimi may not be boxing in London this year, but she will continue the fight back home in Afghanistan.
To read more about Rahimi, read Baker’s piece here.
Aryn Baker is TIME’s Middle East bureau chief based in Kabul.
Andrea Bruce is a photographer based in Afghanistan. She was previously featured on LightBox after winning the Chris Hondros Award.
“In the past few years contemporary photographic practice from and about the Middle East has been some of the most exciting, innovative and varied art anywhere in the world…” Marta Weiss, curator
A major collection of contemporary photography, focusing on the Middle East, has been set up for the public by the British Museum and the V&A with funds from the Art Fund. The collection has been in development since 2009 and is funded by over £150,000 of support from the Art Fund.
Most of the collection will be showcased at the V&A (Porter Gallery) in an exhibition Light from the Middle East: New Photography opening on 13 November 2012 and running until 7 April 2013. The show will be the first major museum exhibition of contemporary photography from and about the Middle East and will tour nationally in 2013.
The show is divided into three sections around key themes: Recording, Reframing and Resisting. Expect works that “respond to the social challenges and political upheavals of the Middle East over the last 30 years” or “the last 20 years”, depending on which of the two press releases one reads.
Included are internationally established practitioners such as Abbas (Iran), Youssef Nabil (Egypt) and Walid Raad (Lebanon) as well as emerging photographers including Taysir Batniji (Palestine), Atiq Rahimi (Afghanistan), Shadi Ghadirian (Iran), Mehraneh Atashi (Iran), Nermine Hammam (Egypt), Manal al-Dowayan (Saudi Arabia) and Abdulnasser Gharem (Saudi Arabia), who also happens to be a lieutenant colonel in the Saudi army.
There are over 80 works (90 in one press release) in the collection produced by 22 (28 in one press release) emerging and established artists “living in the region or in diaspora”. The works are diverse in terms of technique and subject matter and straddle genres including photojournalism, staged and manipulated imagery.
The collection of Middle Eastern photography has been “built in response to a surge of interest in the visual arts in the region, beginning to remedy the under-representation of Middle Eastern photography in the UK”.
To see the collection go to Art Fund Middle Eastern.
Filed under: Photographers, Photography News, Photography Shows, Visual Artists, Women Photographers Tagged: Art Fund, Atiq Rahimi, British Museum, contemporary photography, Light from the Middle East: New Photography, Marta Weiss, Mehraneh Atashi, Shadi Ghadirian, V&A
In 2011, Yuri Kozyrev traveled to seven countries covering protests and uprisings for TIME, including Egypt, Bahrain, Libya, Yemen, Russia, Greece and Tunisia. Here, he writes about the remarkable experience and what all the revolutions had in common.
It’s unique that I’ve been able to cover all these uprisings and revolutions during the year. I’m lucky—it’s incredibly complicated to understand where you need to go when you’re on the ground, and I was lucky to have a lot of help. The protests were well under way when I got to Tahrir Square in late January, and their size and scope took my breath away: in two decades of covering the Middle East, I had never encountered anything like this. There was huge fighting between the pro-government supports and revolutionaries. Some of the journalists were beaten. Some of them lost their cameras. They kicked me out, but I managed to get back in the next morning. I saw a lot of families—not just young men or revolutionaries—and everyone was helping each other, praying together. It was a great time. Everybody was waiting for Mubarak to make the right decision, and suddenly it happened. And it was so emotional: people crying, shouting, screaming…it was incredible. The next morning, it was over. The army was kicking everyone out. They weren’t friendly—there was a feeling of ‘You got what you wanted. Now, get out.’ Of all the revolutions I covered, Egypt was the most special.
The mood at the Pearl Roundabout in Bahrain was very different from Tahrir Square. In the first days, I saw men in white robes approach police with flowers, offerings of peace: the response was tear-gas and live rounds. There was a huge difference between this army and the Egyptian army. People from Bahrain—there was no way they could even talk to the army who had arrived from Saudi Arabia. There was no way for me to get to Pearl Square, so a few journalists and I watched what was happening from the hotel. There was one hospital where all the protesters were gathered together. And then the doctors did something incredible. Not all of them supported the protesters, but they gave them shelter at the hospital and saved a lot of lives. I had a chance to go back to Bahrain after they demolished Pearl Square, and again a few weeks ago, and I saw young people who’d lost one eye to rubber bullets. It was just so sad, and I just saw some of them. I know there were many more.
In Yemen, it was very different. There was no Facebook. Change Square was still packed, but the feeling of revolution was more religious, more conservative. There was an invisible border for protesters to stay behind, and the army would shoot anyone who tried to cross this line. I saw so many young people were ready to cross the line, marching to die. And around Change Square, there were hundreds of pictures of people who’d died. In Egypt, I saw protest signs and other things, but in Yemen, it was just pictures of young faces. Whether or not President Saleh will relinquish power, the political crisis in Yemen will likely remain acute, not only because of its tribal culture and topography, but also because of its deep poverty, high illiteracy and birth rates, and deeply entrenched government corruption.
Libya was different because it was more of a civil war than a revolution. It was here that I took one of my favorite pictures of the year. It was taken on the front lines near Ras Lanuf, Libya. It was near an oil refinery factory that was important for both sides—both the rebels and government. I took this picture on March 11, when Gaddafi’s military could still fly, and they were flying around, dropping bombs on the rebels. It was really scary for everybody on the front lines—suddenly, you could hear the plane coming and the bombs hitting their targets. These men were the shabab, young people who weren’t professional fighters and didn’t have weapons or training. They’re not rebels, but eager to be on the front lines. They’re jumping because they heard the planes coming, so they’re running around trying to find any place to hide, which is hard because everything is flat and exposed. You can see from the picture that none of them have any weapons—they were scared—and it was just an incredible experience to be there.
Beyond these main four revolutions, I also traveled to cover the protests in Moscow, Greece and Tunis. I came to the conclusion that each revolution must be assessed in its own context, because each had a distinctive impact. The drama of each revolution unfolded separately. Each had its own heroes, its own crises. Each, therefore, demands its own narrative. In the end, the differences between them may turn out to be more important than their similarities, however. And the common thing about all these protests is the number of young people who really want to bring changes to their country. That’s what’s most incredible. We have a new generation of people who are sick and tired of what’s going on. Call it the Jasmine Revolution, the Arab Spring or the Facebook Revolution, there’s a powerful Sirocco blowing across the world, and young people realize there’s another life and they want to live differently.
Yuri Kozyrev is a contract photographer for TIME who has covered the Arab Spring since January.