Jon Bright (London, OK): We had a lot of good comments and debate in response to Stuart Weir's post on Peter Kosminsky's drama Britz, and I thought it would be interesting to draw out a few of the main themes as the debate seems to have now died down - posed as questions rather than answers:
- Most people thought Britz was very strong as a drama. However the much of the discussion centred around how good it was as, almost, a piece of political activism if you like – an attempt to make a statement about our current politics. How, in pieces such as this, can a balance be struck between making a political statement and making good television?
- Linked to this, a lot of the discussion was focussed on whether the portrayal of the central Muslim characters was "realistic". There was a lot of attention on the nuances – one person pointed out, for example, that women and men were showed praying together in the camp in Pakistan, which is apparently not normal practice in Islam. Some people therefore felt that some of the characters were stereotypical, or misrepresented Muslims in some way – that Muslim identity was being represented as either fanatical and violent religiosity or a sort of self loathing desire to be white. Others (who I think were in the majority) recognised the need for a slight suspension of disbelief to create compelling television, and the creation of perhaps exaggerated characters in order to get a story across in the required time. Do artists have a responsibility to portray people or communities in an "accurate" way – should they accept they have a role in generating public perception, and act accordingly? How far should our society censor or moderate dramas such as this?
- Finally, a lot of debate centred around Nasrima's motivation. One commenter, Mark, makes this interesting point:
"Suicide and bomber are two words. We sometimes concentrate on the 'bomber' and the aggression & damage done. But there is the 'suicide' and the feelings such as loss of empowerment and meaning of life that drives people to act in that way. So it was interesting to see Naseema's gradual degeneration from student activist, then frustration of the brick wall of the legal system then arriving at 'no choice decision' to do what she did. Of course she had choices but, as with her best friend's suicide, it shows what people can do when they feel choices have been taken from them." Is this duality a good way of understanding suicide bombing?
I think it's better to pose these things as questions: not just because I don't want to pretend to have the answers, but because it is through discussion and debate over questions like this that society can decide for itself the boundary between freedom of expression and sensitivity toward other cultures, between the requirements of art and the power of mass media and between the need to condemn those who pose a threat to our security and to understand them.
