Final Proverbs
by
Bachchoo
The world shrinks. Can the actions of the Indian Army in Kashmir have destructive echoes on a long-running soap opera in Britain Is that a bizarre question The answer to it is “yes”. Not that the actions of any Army featured in the soap, but they did in a small scandal about the soap which hit every headline. How Read on!
Soap operas, so called because the early ones invariably carried advertisements for soap, were ironically labelled “operas” by cultural snobs. They held everyday dramas of everyday folk in some contempt.
The contempt was unjustified. It’s true that the vacillation of intent of a Prince of Denmark whose dead father’s ghost has enjoined him to take revenge on his murdering mother and uncle; or indeed the fate of an old King who divides his kingdom in proportion to the flattery he receives from his daughters, deserve the name of high drama. But then the friction between a daughter-in-law and a mother-in-law in the circumstances of everyday life regularly attracts the attention of millions of viewers and is certainly a dramatisation of life as she is lived.
India takes Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi seriously because millions of girls are brought up not to be rocket scientists or Test Cricket players, but to be wives, mothers and after bringing up a male child to adulthood, to be mothers-in-law.
Whatever one thinks of the storylines and the maudlin unreality of the plots, it was a stroke of dramatic genius to translate the traditional central roles of the Indian female into everyday drama. That being said, the perpetuation of these stereotypical roles doesn’t take into account what Indian women are doing to break these moulds and become rocket scientists and — okay, not Test cricketers — but certainly Olympic players.
Britain takes its soap operas very seriously. One of its longest-running radio “soaps” is called The Archers. It was initiated after the Second World War to encourage ex-servicemen to take an interest and possibly find a career in farming. Now, more than 50 years later, its writers and producers dramatise the social issues of the day. Most recently, in one of the fictional families of “Ambridge”, the fictional village community where The Archers is set, a wife stabs her physically abusive husband and has to face a trial for attempted murder.
The newspapers treated the fictional episode as though it was happening in reality. The outcome of the trial was treated as a hook on which to hang a debate about abusive relationships and the rights of women who retaliate. Celebrity lawyers were asked for their opinions and even ministers commented on the evidence and the outcome.
There was no sense of tongues being in cheeks about these comments. Fiction was treated as though it was a dimension of reality, which development is, of course, flattering to all writers of fiction.
Last week, another incident of the relationship between soap opera and real life dominated the UK media. The longest-running television soap opera which is screened on Independent TV is called Coronation Street. It is watched by millions several times a week and is set in a fictional street in a suburb of Manchester with a pub called the Rovers Return as its central meeting point.
In keeping with the social policy of the soap, and perhaps to add some reality to the street, it has introduced Asian and black characters in its story lines from time to time. The late, great Saeed Jaffrey featured for a while in it and currently a Muslim Asian family figures in the drama.
The husband is called Sharif Nazir who is having an affair with his wife’s friend. Sharif is played by Marc Anwar a 45-year-old Pakistan-born actor. His wife and mistress are played by accomplished Indian-British stage and screen actresses Shelley King and Sudha Buchar.
Last week, Anwar reacted to something he had seen, possibly on some Pakistani website, about the destruction of buildings and the killing by the Indian Army of a person the Army claimed was an insurgent terrorist. There was obviously some dispute about this claim.
Anwar tweeted and messaged his friends and followers in an apparent rage. He used pretty nasty phrases, saying that Indians were “bastards and piss-drinking c***s”. He also attacked both Prime Ministers Narendra Modi and Nawaz Sharif. He posted the picture of a clenched fist absurdly accompanied by a call to ban Indian films from Pakistan.
His diatribe, liberally punctuated with the “f” word, taunted Pakistani artists, presumably musicians and actors, for working in India. “Do you love money so much ”
The tweets and posts were passed on to a Sunday newspaper which gleefully published them.
The producers of Coronation Street were alerted to the tweets and immediately announced that Anwar was being dismissed from the soap. The few episodes already recorded in which his character figures will be transmitted but the writers have now been instructed to plot him out.
Anwar has subsequently apologised for the language he used in his tweets.
Some voices, mostly Brits of Pakistani origin argued that Anwar’s dismissal from the soap was too harsh a sentence. Other commentators pointed out that 17 Indian soldiers had been killed in Kashmir earlier this month.
Tweeting rude things about anyone is not, under British law, a crime. If it spills over into advocating hatred or inciting violence against a person or group it can be prosecuted as a “hate-crime” — in itself a controversial statute which its opponents claim outlaws the right to insulting free speech.
It may very well be that the broadcaster took the action fearing that the scandal would hit their viewing figures. It is also entirely possible and understandable that Shelley and Sudha, and perhaps the other actors, made it known that they wouldn’t continue to act alongside Anwar.
