Reviews

66 | Museums Journal | November 2013

Unseen Enemy is a fitting metaphor for the roadside bomb or improvised explosive device (IED) that has become the defining weapon of war during recent conflicts. IEDs have been instrumental in altering the rules on the battlefield, resulting in serious personal and political impacts. The affects of IEDs on the lives of British soldiers in Afghanistan is the focal point of this exhibition.

Ever since gunpowder was invented, IEDs have been used as weapons of destruction, sabotage, and terror. A timeline graphic with correlating exhibits in the introduction charts the history of the IED from Guy Fawkes’ gunpowder plot, its use in world wars, campaigns in Northern Ireland, IRA car bombs, through to present-day Iraq.

Weapon of choiceThe first section examines why IEDs have become the weapon of choice for insurgents in Afghanistan and how service personnel are trained and prepared to manage the threat. The adversary’s perspective is presented via a video clip of a Taliban commander. In the prior

Temporary exhibitionUnseen Enemy, National Army Museum,LondonThis powerful exhibition would be even better if it told the broader story of all the victims, writes Yasmin Khan

display we see some PR leaflets produced by the Psychological Operations Group, featuring persuasive slogans and images, that are given out by UK service personnel to win over local communities.

Personal accountsThe nuts and bolts of the exhibition are first class. Each interpretive component is executed with military precision; the bold splattered design is visually striking and correlates perfectly with the theme. Missile-shaped orange graphic panels help navigate visitors through the exhibition. The text is sophisticated yet easy to read and in good proportion. Eye-grabbing props are interspersed between well laid-out display cases. Tactile elements including robots, bomb suits and other paraphernalia are embedded with thoughtful juxtapositions.

Personal stories form the bedrock of the show. First-hand accounts of soldiers dealing with IEDs are stationed at periodic sound points to highlight the courage, fear, loyalty and skill involved. Good-quality laminated scripts accompany the audio

throughout. The descriptions are well edited – every segment is gripping and eye-opening.

In one section signage directs visitors towards a 40ft-replica stretch of road through Helmand province seeded with hidden devices. Creeping along the simulated dusty path – apparently a deserted compound to one side, 3D-polystyrene poppy field on the other – I search with trepidation for signs of where insurgents have planted IEDs. Like soldiers on the frontline, I am meant to look for the outlines of hidden pressure plates and abandoned canisters or bottles that could contain a trigger for a device. I spot some clues – a discarded mobile phone, an empty cigarette packet, uneven ground surface and the less subtly placed abandoned motorbike indicating enemy presence.

Tense journeyI turn the corner intact and notice a replica Vallon detector. These devices are used by the “point man” at the front of search patrols to locate IEDs buried in the ground or walls. I pick it up, sweeping the detector back and forth, wait for a change in pitch, a flashing light or a vibration. The

The National Army Museum’s exhibition about the use of improvised explosive devices in Afghanistan is tense and sometimes gory but also compassionate

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November 2013 | Museums Journal | 67

Reviews

November 2013 | Museums Journal | 69

Reviews

detector sounds its shrieking alarm – this is a somewhat creepy interactive – not the usual harmless fun associated with hands-on exhibits. Still, I get some hint of the level of patience and mental endurance that must be required; empathy has been cleverly levered through this physical interaction.

The exhibition also has a semi-enclosed memorial section where visitors can pause for private reflection. Long scrolls of selected names and photos convey some of the scale of human hurt and loss. Even IED searcher dogs are among the casualties. We are given few statistics, though we are told that for every person killed by an IED, another four are injured. And of course there is a much wider impact, the psychological rehabilitation of those wounded and the enduring effect on family, loved ones and witnesses.

No local peopleFurther along, there is a shocking account of an injured soldier receiving medical treatment after stepping on an IED, while in the next room the insurgent responsible for detonating the device is simultaneously treated. Buried within another sound post is a gruelling account of a 19-year-old Afghan policeman who lost all his limbs in an IED blast while others in the troop suffered permanent hearing loss.

Surprisingly, the precise numbers of British soldiers injured by IED in Afghanistan is rather opaque – a sloppy sort of vagueness for an exhibition of this nature. The opening panel explains: “Between 2006 and March 2013 more than 29,500 casualties were caused by IEDs in South West Afghanistan, including Helmand Province. This figure includes UK and other ISAF troops, those from the Afghan National Security Forces and local civilians.”

What is not revealed until the end of the exhibition is that 75% of people killed by IEDs in Afghanistan in 2012 were civilians. Yet these local people are reduced to a mere statistic. There is no single visual depiction of these people, neither do we hear their voices in any part of the exhibition.

The bulk of IED casualties – women and children – are left

entirely out of the narrative, begging the question, if IEDs are a common foe, why the omission of local people from the central narrative?

“It’s real”It is no small feat to successfully incorporate all the sensitivities of a war in progress within a single exhibition. Curatorial integrity is bound to be compromised since the exhibition content has been fleshed out in close cooperation with the Ministry of Defence. The National Army Museum cannot be a neutral space.

Midway through what has become a gruelling tour, I digest the cinematic video animation that simulates the physiological impact of IED explosions (accompanied by a graphic warning sign). Next, a series of gory medical dioramas depicting the immediate aftermath from point of injury to the Camp Bastion field hospital. Audio from medics dealing with the injuries describe their mode of working “like a ballet” and “a Formula One car pit stop”. It is deeply emotionally engaging stuff.

The plethora of oral accounts are overwhelming and inevitably

take their toll – this exhibition is not for the faint hearted. I retreat into the cafe to take stock. I observe a troop of off-duty army lads arrive in colour-coded suits and ties. My first thought is: which among you might be killed or maimed in action? I hesitate at first but eventually pluck up the nerve to ask one young soldier what he thinks of the exhibition. “Yeah – it’s real,” he affirms. “It’s just like being back there. I’ve already fought in Afghanistan and will be going back soon.”

Soon after, an ex-soldier arrives, chaperoned by a female soldier in uniform. As he manoeuvres his wheelchair through the gallery, it dawns on me that he is one of the men I’ve just been listening to at the AV terminal. The curator greets them and they start their tour. I overhear bits of the conversation. “Your story is here… we’d like to keep updating it,” she offers. I make my exit with a glimmer of hope. Perhaps there might be scope to recalibrate the broader narrative, too?

Yasmin Khan is an independent cultural adviser who has worked at the British Library and the Science Museum

Project data

Cost £230,000 Main funder in houseCurators amy cameron, Jo sohn-RethelExhibition team Robin Kiang; Jenny spencer-smithArmy liaison working group mairead O’Hara; chris BriggsExhibition design Drinkall DeanGraphic design carter Wong DesignLighting design lightwavesImmersive corridor souvenir scenic studiosSet build The HubGraphic production DisplaywaysExhibitions ends 31 march 2014

Visitors to Unseen Enemy are shown a replica of a typical road in Helmand and asked to scout out hidden explosive devices

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