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Islamic extremists have banned music in Mali, but its world famous musicians wont give up without a fight. They Will Have To Kill Us First tells the story of Malis musicians, as they fight for their right to sing.
“They Will Have to Kill Us First” follows several musicians in Mali who were forced out of their homes by dragged out civil conflict that was co-opted by jihadist groups, including branches of al-Qaeda. The fighting places them under two types of existential threats – their lives are threatened by violence, and their livelihoods threatened by the Sharia Law imposed by terrorist invaders. The documentary can’t quite give due attention to both the political upheaval and these personal struggles, but it makes an admirable attempt. This is a grave, under-reported crisis, and “They Will Have to Kill Us First” is commendable for helping to explain Mali’s plight.
There are three main narrative threads we pursue. Songhoy Blues, a band with a lineup of refugees from northern Mali, is selected to perform in a collaborative project called Africa Express, which leads to an opportunity to perform their music in London. Guitarist Moussa flees south during the fighting, and attempts to return to music now that he has escaped a region where it is expressly forbidden. His exile is complicated by the fact that his wife stayed behind in Gao, the contested north. Finally, a concert is secretly organized in Timbuktu, a city in the north where the safety of the performers could not be guaranteed. Here we meet Kharia, a recognized figure in the music world before jihadists exploited the unrest in the region to impose their dire rulings over the portions of Mali. She’s friends with another singer, “Disco,” whose life is especially complicated after the war because her husband, Jimmy, is a leader in the MNLA, the separatist organization whose efforts were overtaken by the terrorists.
Visually, “They Will Have to Kill Us First” exercises a journalistic conservatism. Subjects and action are observed with the most objective possible lens. In subject, the film is unsparing in its depictions of war’s brutality. Violence – the violence of war, and the violence of oppression – are not the primary focus of the film, but certain sequences are shockingly graphic. Unfortunately, it’s difficult to fully explain the political unrest in Mali while also trying to hone in on the stories of local musicians, just because there’s so much to cover. The original unrest caused by the separatist MNLA has been ongoing since 1963, and there was an influx of opportunistic groups that aimed to exploit the destabilization of the region. I remember hearing snippets of news stories about the fighting in Mali a few years ago, but was largely ignorant of what’s been happening there. That being said, while it feels at times like we aren’t quite gleaning enough of what’s happening, having human stories helps articulate the sense of why this information needs to be shared.
Of all the narratives we follow, Songhoy Blues’s is the most heartening, but also the most removed. They came together after meeting as refugees, and quickly gelled as a band. Much of the film finds them getting opportunities through Africa Express, and then jetting off to London to make their international debut. Throughout this, they are still clearly heartsick at the state of the homes they cannot safely return to (they played together in the southern city of Bamako, their adopted home in the south of Mali, where Sharia Law was not enforced). Moussa struggles to stay alive after fleeing jihadists in his city of Gao. His family has connections to the MNLA, which leads to his wife’s incarceration. His return to Gao to reconnect with his wife is complicated by his MNLA family ties – even though he was not part of the fighting, there could still be lingering resentments. Kharia and Disco have to grapple with their fears of returning to their homes to play music. It’s easy to see how the upheaval in their country has affected all of them. Even in the happiest moments, there’s a hurt behind their eyes, and a real fear for the future.
The importance of “They Will Have to Kill Us First” as a means of communicating the events in Mali is clear. This is a humanitarian crisis in a time when, tragically, there are several competing for our media’s attention. As an attempt to jointly study the effects of civil war on a society, and the individuals swept up in chaos, the film falls just short, but does well enough with both to be worth watching. It’s informative, galling, and still manages to earn its ultimate sense of optimism.
In theaters April 1st in Los Angeles (Laemmle Santa Monica Theater) with additional markets to follow
