As previously reported, young Azerbaijani filmmakers – Aynur Kazimova with her feature-length documentary Starting from Scratch, and the project My Virtual Home, presented by producer Nijat Dadashov (script and directing by Ulviyya Ahmadova) – took part in the WARM Festival held from July 7 to 12. We now share Aynur Kazimova’s reflections on the festival.
Although Bosnia and Herzegovina is part of Europe, I wouldn’t be mistaken in saying that it is one of the European countries most affected by war. Even just mentioning the Srebrenica genocide is enough to justify this claim. However, the Bosnians are not trying to forget the war. On the contrary, by keeping past events in the public discourse and openly discussing them, they have chosen a path toward healing.
The WARM Festival is part of this approach. Within the framework of the festival, documentaries from various conflict zones around the world are screened, and photo exhibitions by war photographers are exhibited. These events benefit not only festival participants but also the residents of Sarajevo and tourists.
This year also marked the 30th anniversary of the Srebrenica genocide. The city had turned into an open-air exhibition space — photographs of the genocide victims and their families were displayed throughout the streets. Despite having a population of only 250,000, the city is home to several war museums: the War Childhood Museum (recipient of the 2018 Museum Prize of the Council of Europe), Gallery 11/07/95 (the first gallery dedicated to the memory of the Srebrenica victims), the 1992–1995 Genocide and Crimes Against Humanity Museum, among other institutions.
We attended masterclasses led by documentary filmmakers and photojournalists. As we watched the films, visited the exhibitions, and listened to the opinions of professionals, I kept thinking: we could also organize a festival like this. We also have countless stories related to war. These stories can be shared with the world through films and photographs. So why aren’t we telling our own story? And why do we seem to be in the wrong, even when we are in the right?
When I presented my documentary project Starting from Scratch in the “Open Stage” program and spoke to European participants about it, I realized that they knew almost nothing about Azerbaijan. When I told them that we had lost over 12,000 people in the Karabakh war, that more than one million people had become internally displaced, and that many had lived for years in tents and container camps, everyone was shocked. “We didn’t know any of this,” they were replying. Of course, they wouldn’t know — because we haven’t shared these painful realities widely enough.
After presenting the film, representatives of a sound design company from Spain gave me their business cards. They said they were interested in collaborating on my film. This made me genuinely happy — not just because my work was being appreciated, but also because it meant the voices of internally displaced people might reach a wider audience.
Over the course of a week, I spoke about the Karabakh war and the stories of my protagonists. One of the American professors even said he would include this topic in his lectures for students. I sent him all the English-language sources I could find. Unfortunately, there aren’t many. But, for instance, when I showed photographs taken during the Karabakh war by Reza Deghati and an American photographer Thomas Goltz, one only had to see the expressions on their faces to grasp the impact. What just a few photographs are capable of…
Just imagine — what if we organize a festival like WARM in Baku, and every year we share our own war stories with the world? Don’t you think that it would change the way people see us? Of course it would. There were photos related to Karabakh at the exhibition — but none from the Azerbaijani side. That affected me even more deeply. We are the ones whose cities were bombed, whose children were killed, whose lands were mined — yet we are the ones who are seen as aggressive.
It might sound ambitious, but I truly believe it is the duty of every Azerbaijani director and screenwriter to make at least one film — whether about Karabakh, January 20, Khojaly, or the Azerbaijanis expelled from Armenia. Whether people like it or not, this is reality. Based on the experience I gained in Sarajevo, I can say with confidence: staying silent or indifferent is, in a way, the same as justifying the actions of the enemy.
It should be noted that the Azerbaijan Union of Filmmakers and the Cinema Agency of the Republic of Azerbaijan provided financial support for both filmmakers to take part in the exact project.
aki.az