Fahim Hashimy is an Afghan filmmaker and founder of the Ghan International Film Festival Australia (GIFFA). He spoke to Markela Panegyres about the festival and the resilience of Afghan filmmakers.
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2025 marks the 10th anniversary of Ghan International Film Festival Australia (GIFFA). Why was the festival established, and what challenges has it faced over the past decade?
GIFFA was founded to celebrate and preserve the stories, culture, and creativity of Afghanistan. When the festival began in 2015, its mission was to give a voice to Afghan filmmakers both within Afghanistan and across the diaspora, at a time when the country’s film industry was struggling to survive. GIFFA became a cultural bridge, connecting communities and showcasing the resilience and artistic spirit of Afghan storytellers.
Over the past 10 years, the journey has been both inspiring and challenging. Each year, the festival faces the struggle of limited funding and a lack of consistent sponsorship, yet we continue to move forward through community support and personal dedication. The pandemic years, the fall of Kabul, and the decline of Afghanistan’s once-vibrant film industry have all tested our resolve. But despite every obstacle, GIFFA has endured driven by passion, perseverance, and the belief that Afghan cinema must have a voice and a future.
When the Taliban resumed power in 2021, they cracked down on artistic expression, including dismantling the once thriving Afghan film industry. Are there any opportunities for Afghan filmmakers in Afghanistan now? And what are the opportunities for Afghan filmmakers in exile?
Since the Taliban’s return to power, artistic expression in Afghanistan has faced one of its darkest periods. Filmmaking, music, theatre, and even photography have been heavily restricted. Many artists and filmmakers have been silenced, gone into hiding, or forced to flee the country. Inside Afghanistan today, opportunities for filmmakers are almost non-existent, there are no cinemas, no public screenings, and no institutional support. Despite this, some courageous individuals continue to tell stories underground or through digital platforms, often at great personal risk.
For Afghan filmmakers in exile, however, there is a new space for creativity and reinvention. Living in countries like Australia, Europe, or North America, many are finding ways to rebuild their artistic voices, connect with international networks, and tell stories that reflect both the pain of displacement and the strength of resilience. At GIFFA, we see our role as providing a home for Afghan cinema in exile, where filmmakers can share their truth freely and proudly with the world.
Afghanistan seems to have been largely forgotten by Western mainstream media, and at the same time, many progressive Afghan writers and journalists have been forcibly silenced by the Taliban. How does the film festival seek to address this silencing and raise consciousness about Afghanistan?
This silence is exactly why GIFFA continues to exist. Through film, we give space back to those voices that can no longer speak freely inside the country.
Our festival is not only about showcasing cinema, it’s about preserving memory, amplifying truth, and reminding the world that Afghan stories still matter. Each film we screen is an act of resistance and remembrance, a way to keep Afghanistan visible beyond the noise of politics and war. By bringing these stories to Australian and international audiences, GIFFA helps raise awareness, build empathy, and encourage dialogue.
The Taliban’s treatment of women has been described as “gender apartheid”. What does Zainab Entezar’s GIFFA film Shot the Voice of Freedom tell us about the ability of women in Afghanistan to resist?
Shot the Voice of Freedom is a testament to the courage and resilience of Afghan women under one of the most repressive regimes in the world. The film captures not only their suffering, but also their unbreakable spirit — the determination to speak, to create and to be seen even when their voices are forbidden.
The Taliban’s treatment of women is indeed a form of gender apartheid, but this film reminds us that Afghan women have never stopped resisting. Whether through art, education, or protest, they continue to challenge oppression with remarkable strength and dignity.
By screening Shot the Voice of Freedom at GIFFA, we aim to show the world that Afghan women are not victims of history, but active agents of change whose fight for freedom continues every day.
Afghanistan is facing multiple crises, including the recent earthquake, internet shutdowns and the Taliban’s conflict with Pakistan. How are Afghan filmmakers responding to these developments?
These challenges have deepened the country’s isolation. Yet, even amid these crises, Afghan filmmakers continue to respond with extraordinary courage and creativity. Many are documenting these realities quietly from within the country, often using mobile phones and underground networks to share the truth. Others, now living in exile, are using film as a way to process loss, preserve culture, and keep the world’s attention on what’s happening back home.
At GIFFA, we see this resilience firsthand. Every submission, every story, is an act of defiance against silence. Afghan filmmakers are not turning away — they are using their art to bear witness, to connect communities, and to remind the world that Afghanistan’s story is still being written.
Your film Salam Sangi is showing at GIFFA. Why did you choose to make a film about this Afghan actor, and what does he represent for Afghans in the diaspora?
Sangi’s story represents the golden era of Afghan cinema and the enduring spirit of Afghan artistry. During the 1980s and 1990s, he was a household name in Afghanistan, embodying strength, heroism, humanity, and providing hope.
For Afghans in the diaspora, Sangi represents a deep emotional connection to our homeland and the memory of a vibrant film industry. My documentary is a tribute to one of our living legends while he is still with us. Too often, we wait until our heroes are gone to honour them. Salam Sangi is my way of saying thank you to him, and to all the artists who kept Afghan cinema alive.
As a filmmaker, what is your vision for the future of Afghanistan?
One where creativity, freedom and humanity can flourish again. I dream of a country where young Afghans especially women can tell their stories without fear, where art and cinema are not seen as crimes, but as powerful tools for healing and national identity.
Afghanistan has suffered greatly, but I believe its spirit is unbreakable. Through storytelling, we can rebuild what war and oppression have tried to destroy. My hope is that one day, Afghan filmmakers will return home, cameras in hand, to capture not only pain, but also progress, beauty, and hope.
Until that day comes, festivals like GIFFA will continue to be Afghanistan’s cinematic voice to the world.
[The is on from November 1–23 in Adelaide, Melbourne and Sydney.]