Review - 'The Places in Between' by Rory Stewart (2004)
It may come at a strange time to be reviewing this book,
when the world descends into tyrannical health & safety measures in
response to the bio-political catastrophe of COVID-19, of which there are endless
things to write. But I have been meaning to summarize my thoughts on this book
since I read it, one year ago. The four books I have read since have not surpassed
it, which is no detriment to them, because this book is fantastic. I received this
book as a gift from a close friend, who was aware of my interest in the author; whom prior to his unsuccessful campaign for Tory leadership, wrote a couple of
documentaries on Lawrence of Arabia, which I had watched while trundling through
the dense and epic ‘Severn Pillars of Wisdom’.
For those unaware, Stewart, inspired by T.E. Lawrence’s archaeological walks through Arabia during the writing of his thesis, ‘Crusader Castles’, embarked on his own solo march from Persia to India, tracing the steps of the First Mughal Emperor, Babur. His plans were compromised however, when following the attacks on the World Trade Centre, The United States had invaded. Rory had to leave this map segment; Afghanistan, missing from his journey, skipping straight from Iran to Pakistan. Years later, he returns to a war-torn Afghanistan, to complete the missing region at the centre of his great journey, and so is the setting for the book’s title ‘The Places in Between’. I could continue to list the many achievements of the author as diplomat and governor in the political sphere thereafter, but the book does not concern these much.
Stewart enters the treacherous country by its western border, coming from the comparatively modernized and stable Iran. Warned by most officials and locals that his mission is unwise and unsafe, Stewart reluctantly accepts a retinue of three misfit-soldiers, carrying Kalashnikov rifles. The author has a great talent for narrating the small mannerisms in people, in such a way that brings literary description to vibrant life. The petty disputes and long silent walks are made vivid with real human experience. The trio stay by the author’s side for some time, but eventually part ways. Stewart distributes a small fortune of American dollars between them, to usher them on their way. Tempted by motor transport and paved roads along his way, he insists on walking, lest a footstep not be counted in his eyes as genuinely ‘walked’ on Babur’s medieval route.
Stewart marches on, through arid dry desert and mountainous tundra rises. Armed only with the fabric on his back, a few American dollars and his knowledge of the main Farsi dialects, he depends on the convicted generosities of the villages he reaches before each nightfall. Axiomatically charitable, the souls who host him share their rice and naan, but meat is a rarity.
Fluent in the Persian and Arab languages, Stewart shows an understanding of the delicate politics in The Middle-East that is informed and deeply considered. He even describes with contempt, the attitudes and rhetoric of Tony Blair and the Bush administration during the intervention. The whole book is laced with insights into the religious and cultural tension of a region that has long frustrated the strategizing of superpowers. He describes how with the landscape, so changes the ethnic groups of rural Afghanistan, their customs, attitudes towards wandering strangers and their allegiances during the soviet-period and Taliban rule.
Far into his journey now, the author is roped into buying an old and abused dog from a crooked villager who assures him that the dog is in good enough condition to accompany him for the rest of his walk. Stewart doesn’t fancy the dog’s chances entirely, or the idea of acquiring a new dog in general, but cannot bear to see the old kicked and toothless pooch left with people that do not share his western sentiment towards canine companionship. He names the dog ‘Babur’ in honour of the historical figure, who’s steps he is retracing. The dog, like his original companions, is narrated in precise mannerisms and animating emotional depth. They frustrate each other and consider giving up on one another as they wade through thick snowy passes.
Rory encounters British troops towards the end of his journey, who charmingly dub the malnourished, wandering Eton-Oxford boy a maniac for what he was attempting. All the while, he rediscovers a 12th century Minaret that until then, was feared to have been lost to Taliban demolition. UNESCO have responded to the author’s reports.
This book is an awesome account of a genuine modern-day adventure, by a man who seems almost stolen from T.E. Lawrence’s time. He survives gunfire from roaming headmen, evades death in former Taliban-supporting compounds, repels wolves hungry for the flesh of his dog and endures through exhaustion and dysentery. I recommend this book to anybody, whatever depth of knowledge regarding the events in the Middle East or geography of Afghanistan. This is not a book of geopolitics or international relations, but by the end of it, you will be more informed in both. It is a book of places and people, tragic and humorous, frightening and enlightening.
For those unaware, Stewart, inspired by T.E. Lawrence’s archaeological walks through Arabia during the writing of his thesis, ‘Crusader Castles’, embarked on his own solo march from Persia to India, tracing the steps of the First Mughal Emperor, Babur. His plans were compromised however, when following the attacks on the World Trade Centre, The United States had invaded. Rory had to leave this map segment; Afghanistan, missing from his journey, skipping straight from Iran to Pakistan. Years later, he returns to a war-torn Afghanistan, to complete the missing region at the centre of his great journey, and so is the setting for the book’s title ‘The Places in Between’. I could continue to list the many achievements of the author as diplomat and governor in the political sphere thereafter, but the book does not concern these much.
Stewart enters the treacherous country by its western border, coming from the comparatively modernized and stable Iran. Warned by most officials and locals that his mission is unwise and unsafe, Stewart reluctantly accepts a retinue of three misfit-soldiers, carrying Kalashnikov rifles. The author has a great talent for narrating the small mannerisms in people, in such a way that brings literary description to vibrant life. The petty disputes and long silent walks are made vivid with real human experience. The trio stay by the author’s side for some time, but eventually part ways. Stewart distributes a small fortune of American dollars between them, to usher them on their way. Tempted by motor transport and paved roads along his way, he insists on walking, lest a footstep not be counted in his eyes as genuinely ‘walked’ on Babur’s medieval route.
Stewart marches on, through arid dry desert and mountainous tundra rises. Armed only with the fabric on his back, a few American dollars and his knowledge of the main Farsi dialects, he depends on the convicted generosities of the villages he reaches before each nightfall. Axiomatically charitable, the souls who host him share their rice and naan, but meat is a rarity.
Fluent in the Persian and Arab languages, Stewart shows an understanding of the delicate politics in The Middle-East that is informed and deeply considered. He even describes with contempt, the attitudes and rhetoric of Tony Blair and the Bush administration during the intervention. The whole book is laced with insights into the religious and cultural tension of a region that has long frustrated the strategizing of superpowers. He describes how with the landscape, so changes the ethnic groups of rural Afghanistan, their customs, attitudes towards wandering strangers and their allegiances during the soviet-period and Taliban rule.
Far into his journey now, the author is roped into buying an old and abused dog from a crooked villager who assures him that the dog is in good enough condition to accompany him for the rest of his walk. Stewart doesn’t fancy the dog’s chances entirely, or the idea of acquiring a new dog in general, but cannot bear to see the old kicked and toothless pooch left with people that do not share his western sentiment towards canine companionship. He names the dog ‘Babur’ in honour of the historical figure, who’s steps he is retracing. The dog, like his original companions, is narrated in precise mannerisms and animating emotional depth. They frustrate each other and consider giving up on one another as they wade through thick snowy passes.
Rory encounters British troops towards the end of his journey, who charmingly dub the malnourished, wandering Eton-Oxford boy a maniac for what he was attempting. All the while, he rediscovers a 12th century Minaret that until then, was feared to have been lost to Taliban demolition. UNESCO have responded to the author’s reports.
This book is an awesome account of a genuine modern-day adventure, by a man who seems almost stolen from T.E. Lawrence’s time. He survives gunfire from roaming headmen, evades death in former Taliban-supporting compounds, repels wolves hungry for the flesh of his dog and endures through exhaustion and dysentery. I recommend this book to anybody, whatever depth of knowledge regarding the events in the Middle East or geography of Afghanistan. This is not a book of geopolitics or international relations, but by the end of it, you will be more informed in both. It is a book of places and people, tragic and humorous, frightening and enlightening.
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