Skip to main content

Homeland, headscarves and Hebdo

An impulse Christmas present bought for my husband has resulted in the latest Nash household obsession: Homeland.  Rather than give a spoiler alert myself here, I beg you, don't tell me what happens!  I've already discovered more than I wanted to know about the seasons I haven't watched yet by googling the series to find reviews.  We didn't do much else other than watch 'Homeland' over the Christmas break.

I've been planning to blog about Homeland for a week or so but, to be honest, I didn't want to take time out from watching it to write about it.  It's been favourably compared with '24' as a drama series tackling issues of terrorism but without the gung-ho attitude of Jack Bauer or constant recourse to torture in order to extract information from suspects.  Predictably it deals with the threat of Islamist terrorism but with a subtlety which was pleasing to see; amazingly for American TV, it actually helps the viewer to feel some empathy with Al-Qaeda - or at least to see where they're coming from.  Which was why I was pretty shocked by a scene toward the start of season three which seemed to me to show a crass attitude I thought the writers of Homeland were above displaying.

There has been a devastating attack on the CIA in which many CIA operatives have lost their lives.  The agency has been decimated and Saul, the new director, has to pull in relatively young and inexperienced agents to help track down those responsible for the attack.  A young woman arrives in the foyer and all eyes turn to her.  Initially I couldn't work out why we were supposed to be surprised and then I realised - it's because she is olive skinned and wearing a headscarf.  We're supposed to view her with suspicion.  She starts working on her assignment and initially isn't doing too well, resulting in a telling-off from Saul (incidentally, one of the characters who usually displays most sensitivity and integrity).  During his tirade he says, quietly but angrily, "and if you have to wear that thing on your head, if you really have to, that thing which is a f*** you to all the agents who died, you'd better start doing better".  Maybe I'm hopelessly naive, and yes it's just TV, it's not real, but surely it's totally out of line to criticise a Muslim for wearing a headscarf after an Islamist terrorist attack.

This afternoon I was reading a report in the Independent about the aftermath of the horrific Charlie Hebdo attack.  A reporter went to one of the Paris suburbs in which many young French-Algerians live, struggling to find work and hassled by police.  One young man said this about the attackers:

"These guys are dangerous.  And they're also fools.  What do they think this will do for Muslims in France?  What will it do for people like me when we already have a hard time getting work?  What happened was disgusting.  A lot of guys around here are angry about living here.  We don't like the police: they give us a hard time.  But it's another thing walking into an office and killing people just like that in the name of God.  It's not my God or anyone else's around here."

I'm reminded of another excellent US drama - The West Wing.  There's one episode made after 9/11 during which there's a security threat at the White House and everyone is in lockdown.  Some of the White House staff are contained in the dining room with a group of students who were on a school visit.  One of the staff decides to talk with the students to help them understand the issues around Islamist terrorism better.  He writes on the whiteboard something along these lines:

? is to Christianity as Islamist terrorism is to Islam

He asks the students to fill in the blank.  When they can't, he fills it in for them:

KKK is to Christianity as Islamist terrorism is to Islam

White hoods and burning crosses have nothing to do with the Jesus I know.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Making the best of a bad situation

This morning, instead of going to church, I put this note through all the houses on our street. Despite being an extrovert, I have a tendency toward social anxiety. Despite being an evangelist, I really hate door knocking. As I approached each door, I noticed lots of “no junk mail” stickers and felt briefly worried. One sticker said “no unaddressed mail”. Putting notes through the doors of people I’d never met - even though we live within a few dozen metres of each other - felt risky. Even worse - some people were outside their houses. I actually had to talk to them! “Don’t worry, I won’t come too close,” was my opening gambit. As someone who suffered from OCD as a young adult, fear of contaminating others is quite a familiar sensation. We Brits have the reputation of being standoffish and maybe a bit antisocial, and the virus is not helping in this regard. And yet, I live in the commuter belt; many of us on our street go off to London on trains every morning and come home late

Halloween

It's that magical time of year again - that one night when my small neighbours knock on my door asking for sweeties.  This year, I'm properly prepared: I have two pumpkins (I wanted five, but decided to be thrifty), a big tub of sweets and a tube of 100 glow sticks.  The sweets are my concession to popular demand; the glow sticks are an attempt to represent light in darkness (a symbolism which will doubtless be lost on the kids).  I'm seeing the pumpkin as my main opportunity to communicate something of my Christian faith to my neighbours. One year, while I was at theological college, Halloween fell on a Sunday.  The new housing estate church I was assigned to met in a church hall on Sunday afternoons and many of the congregation were unaccompanied children.  I googled 'Christian pumpkin carvings' and guess what - there are a lot of ideas out there, America being a country which is big on Halloween and big on Christianity too.  I decided to carve a simple fish and c

Do not fear

Photo by NeONBRAND on Unsplash     When I was 15 years old there was a particularly unpleasant murder which was splashed all over the news. The culprits were identified, given long prison sentences and, many years later, new identities upon their release. I remember watching news footage of the defendants being brought to trial in a prison van, angry crowds screaming abuse as it drove past. My mother's perspective on this was interesting. "We all have darkness inside us," she explained. "It's easier to scream at it in someone else than to face our own." Today is All Hallows' Eve: for the past week, pumpkins, skeletons, witches and ghosts have loomed at us out of shop windows, from supermarket shelves and strung up as decorations outside homes. Tonight it reaches its peak as many of us, adults and children, dress up in the things we most fear. Axe murderers, which come to mind whenever we're alone in the house and hear a creak on the stai