This historical drama about the 1991 Kurdish uprising in Iraq abounds with diplomats. There is the Whitehall contingent, speaking in clipped tones about Kurds hiding in the mountains, at the mercy of Saddam Hussein’s armed forces. There’s Iraqi diplomat Al-Tikriti, Saddam’s half-brother, and there is also Chris Bowers, the play’s writer and a former British diplomat in Iraqi Kurdistan.
Bowers infuses the debates and wrangles at the heart of this crisis with an authenticity that carries weight, but it does not make for good drama in itself.
The heroes are the diplomats here, Clive (Richard Lynson) and Catherine (Beth Burrows), who give us the political detail of their world (“what with the transition from Margaret Thatcher to John Major”). But, diplomacy being diplomacy, sensible discussion reigns over sparks in dialogue or action. Instead there is planning, manoeuvring, strategic resourcefulness. These elements might make for an effective political drama, especially when a blustering American general (Stephen Cavanagh) attempts to block their idea to create a safe haven for the Kurds (eventually resulting in Operation Safe Haven) but the pace, complexity and depth are just not there.
Under the direction of Mark Giesser, brief scenes switch from Whitehall to numerous press conferences, Clive’s garden and occasionally the Iraqi mountains. They all feel too functional, delivering information and exposition above human drama.
Characters are paper thin, some performances stilted. Clive is, unfortunately, as dull as one of Major’s grey suits, speaking in predictable cricketing metaphors, and Catherine is generic. Al-Tikriti (Mazlum Gül), when he briefly pops up, is a mouthpiece. It is Clive’s Middle England wife, Anne (Lisa Zahra), who is left to bring what drama there is with her insistence that he take responsibility for the plight of the Kurds when he is initially reluctant to do so.
The terror faced by the Kurdish population is represented mainly by a pregnant woman, Najat (Eugenie Bouda) and her companion (also played by Zahra), hiding in the mountains while the coalition forces um and ah about protecting them from massacre. There is also Najat’s brother, a doctor, refugee and, it seems, activist who manages to reach the British diplomatic corps and appeal directly to Catherine about what his people face.
You want more focus on the Kurdish experience rather than snatched scenes of fear or resilience. What about the debates, manoeuvring and resourcefulness on the mountain tops?
This is an overlooked part of Iraq’s history, from a western perspective, eclipsed by Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait and later the US’s invasion of Iraq. It deserves more drama, emotion and political complexity on the ground.
At Arcola theatre, London, until 7 February
