The Forgotten Spaceman: A Story of Hope, Exile, and the Power of Memory
Have you ever stumbled upon a piece of history so astonishing that it makes you question everything you thought you knew? That’s exactly what happened to me when I discovered Abdul Ahad Momand, Afghanistan’s first—and only—cosmonaut. In 1988, he became the first Afghan to venture into space, making Pashto the fourth language ever spoken beyond Earth. Yet, his name remains virtually unknown. Why?
A Cosmic Achievement Overshadowed by Conflict
What makes this particularly fascinating is the timing of Momand’s journey. Just as he was making history, Afghanistan was on the brink of civil war, a conflict that would force millions into exile. Personally, I think this juxtaposition is more than a coincidence. It’s a stark reminder of how moments of triumph can be swallowed by tragedy, and how narratives of hope are often buried under layers of violence.
From my perspective, Momand’s story isn’t just about space exploration; it’s about the resilience of a nation. He didn’t just carry the Afghan flag into orbit; he carried the dreams of a people who were about to lose so much. Yet, his achievement has been largely forgotten, not just by the world, but even by Afghans themselves. When I asked my family and cousins if they knew about Momand, their reactions were unanimous: ‘Who?’
This raises a deeper question: What does it mean when a country’s greatest achievements are erased from its collective memory?
A Filmmaker’s Journey of Discovery
Elham Ehsas, a London-based Afghan filmmaker, is determined to change this. His short film Forgotten Spaceman isn’t just a documentary; it’s a personal odyssey. Ehsas began by researching Momand for a fictional film about space, only to uncover a story far more compelling than anything he could have imagined.
One thing that immediately stands out is the serendipity of Ehsas’s discovery. His father, a journalist, handed him a photograph of Momand, a seemingly innocuous gesture that became the film’s turning point. ‘I felt something was happening here,’ Ehsas said. ‘The film was guiding me, not the other way around.’
What many people don’t realize is how rare pre-Soviet era footage of Afghanistan is, especially regarding its space program. Ehsas had to play detective, reaching out to archives in Kabul, Roscosmos, and even licensing hours of uncatalogued footage. The result is a mosaic of history, blending Momand’s journey with the broader story of Afghanistan’s past.
Exile and the Loss of Home
Here’s where the story takes a poignant turn. Momand, after his historic flight, went into exile, eventually becoming an accountant in Germany. This isn’t just a personal tragedy; it’s a metaphor for what Afghanistan lost when its brightest minds were forced to flee.
If you take a step back and think about it, Momand’s story is a microcosm of the Afghan diaspora. He carried the Quran into space and spoke Pashto, symbols of his identity, only to return to a fractured nation. Ehsas’s film doesn’t just mourn this loss; it celebrates the resilience of those who carry their heritage across borders.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how Ehsas uses Afghan music to structure the film. Each act is accompanied by a different song, creating a sonic landscape that feels both nostalgic and universal. It’s a reminder that Afghanistan’s cultural richness extends far beyond its conflicts.
The West’s Short Memory
What this really suggests is a broader issue: the West’s tendency to reduce Afghanistan to a narrative of war. As Ehsas puts it, ‘We’re not just bullets and blood and violence. We’re more than that.’ His film is a corrective, a way to reclaim Afghanistan’s story from the headlines that dominate its global image.
In my opinion, this is where Forgotten Spaceman becomes more than a film; it’s an act of resistance. By highlighting Momand’s achievement, Ehsas is challenging the world to see Afghanistan in a different light—as a nation of poets, scientists, and dreamers.
Looking Ahead: Legacy and Collaboration
The film’s premiere at the Locarno Film Festival is just the beginning. Ehsas is already working on his first feature, Our Kind of Love, which explores the intersection of Eastern and Western identities. It’s a theme that’s deeply personal to him as a first-generation refugee, and it’s clear that his work will continue to bridge divides.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how Forgotten Spaceman could evolve into a feature-length film. The story is epic, the themes universal, and the potential for deeper exploration is undeniable.
As I reflect on Momand’s journey and Ehsas’s film, I’m struck by the power of memory. In a world that often forgets, Forgotten Spaceman is a reminder that even the most overlooked stories can illuminate our shared humanity.
