MAD — Mutually-Assured Disreputation
We, South Asians, live in a nuclear tinderbox
Special Bulletin is a 1983 made-for-television film. As the name suggests it is a story presented as live news broadcast. So realistic was the depiction at the time that the filmmakers were asked to run disclaimers at the start and end of each commercial break and word ‘dramatization’ appeared on the screen during crucial moments. It is the story of a nuclear standoff where a group of accomplished scientists and activists turned terrorists bring a nuclear bomb on a tugboat in the port city of Charleston, South Carolina, and demand nuclear disarmament in the adjacent areas. At the start of the crisis a television reporter working at the harbour stumbles upon the news and is taken hostage. The terrorists demand live feed in exchange for other hostages which is readily provided. And hence starts a rollercoaster ride towards nuclear devastation.
I watched it a few years later when it reached our home in a VHS cassette. Very young as I was, it was my introduction to a whole host of things and terms. You do not hear term nuclear blast for the first time and watch a vivid demonstration simultaneously, every other day. I did. The most gut-wrenching scene is delivered in the last ten minutes when the nuclear fireball and the blast wave are shown along with the destruction caused. When I watched it again, in order to write this piece, I was surprised to note that even after decades this scene still remains so accurately etched in my memory. It was also through this movie that I heard the word terrorist for the first time and of Israel’s policy not to negotiate with terrorists. Since it is as much about the medium I work for, I believe it must be made compulsory for every South Asian journalist to watch. But more on that later.
One remarkable quote from the movie stands out: “The spectators and demonstrators are still here, some it seems are prepared to camp for the night. But they are camped in front of the TV cameras, as if lured by the light and excitement. As if the coverage of the event was more important than the event itself. That’s become a fact of life in stories like this. Television is a presence that no one can ignore. Not the police, nor the terrorists. It has become witness to the story, yet part of the story. And it will probably remain that way as long as people watch the news.” It stood out because the past two weeks are a painful reminder of how the media has become the part of the story and the coverage of the event more important than the event itself.
In the movie when the news of the explosion breaks the newscasters break into tears. A compassionate human touch with elemental decency which is now alien to the subcontinent’s television screens. And then a tragic reminder of the brutalities of nuclear devastation: “Authorities are also caring for hundreds of children who are either orphaned or cannot find their parents. Counsellors tell of recurring nightmares and shock. One child of nine, apparently, committed suicide.” Think.
There is a reason why I mention this movie. Remember in 1983 another very powerful film on the subject of nuclear devastation titled ‘The Day After’ was also released. Ronald Reagan watched it and recorded its impact on his policy in his diary. But Special Bulletin deals with two crucial subjects: nuclear tragedies and their television coverage. It was due to the professional handling of the subject matter that it won four Emmy awards and DGA, WGA and Humanitas prizes.
We, South Asians, live in a nuclear tinderbox. What you see in this movie is a small bomb planted by the rogue elements. India and Pakistan have huge stockpiles and means to effectively deliver the nukes. Without going into extrapolations suffice it to say a full-fledged nuclear war between the two nations means millions would die on both sides. And yet in the past fortnight, India has endured a psychotic break with reality. Indian pundits often say that this talk of nuclear mutually assured destruction is Pakistan’s nuclear blackmail. How blasé? Use your imagination, man. War has a momentum of its own.
But if the Indian government wanted to appear muscular in the light of the approaching elections, the psychosis in the Indian media became only too palpable. Extreme prejudice meant that without ascertaining facts the Indian media blamed Pakistan for the Pulwama blast. Many anchors were demanding annihilation of Pakistan, a nation of 207 million, to avenge the deaths of 40 CRPF cops. No evidence needed. When India finally violated the UN charter and Pakistan’s territorial sovereignty and made baseless claims about striking a camp, these prophets of destruction danced with joy without seeing any credible proof. Likewise, in the case of the unsubstantiated claim of shooting down an F-16. But what did they get? Higher ratings? Some shabash from their crony capitalist bosses? Or merely justifying retainers from their political or intelligence overlords? Whatever the reason, it was a shameful display. The Pakistani media tried to keep up but was left far behind.
Why does this matter? It matters for two reasons. People and the profession. People because in these racist times you forget that the world is watching. No matter how much we try to distinguish ourselves, to the outsiders we look and sound the same. The same colour of the skin, more or less the same language. Since our hate exchanges are often in the English language now, they proliferate. What India says about Pakistan and what Pakistan says about India all stays in people’s mind. To a European, an American or a citizen of any other country, this is not an indictment of India or Pakistan but of South Asians as a whole. I call it mutually-assured disreputation. In coming days this will compound the difficulties faced by the South Asian diaspora. If you want your people to be treated compassionately abroad, you will have to show you are capable of compassion yourself.
And the profession. Journalism is already dying internationally. Television may survive as a device but will be extinct as a medium pretty soon. In America, the polarisation between Fox and MSNBC grew to such an extent that it eroded people’s trust in television. In 2016, it wasn’t only Hillary Clinton who was defeated in the election, news television was also vanquished. If the current trend continues in South Asia, the media here will also meet the same fate. Why prematurely kill a profession which puts bread and butter on your table?
Published in The Express Tribune, March 2nd, 2019.
I watched it a few years later when it reached our home in a VHS cassette. Very young as I was, it was my introduction to a whole host of things and terms. You do not hear term nuclear blast for the first time and watch a vivid demonstration simultaneously, every other day. I did. The most gut-wrenching scene is delivered in the last ten minutes when the nuclear fireball and the blast wave are shown along with the destruction caused. When I watched it again, in order to write this piece, I was surprised to note that even after decades this scene still remains so accurately etched in my memory. It was also through this movie that I heard the word terrorist for the first time and of Israel’s policy not to negotiate with terrorists. Since it is as much about the medium I work for, I believe it must be made compulsory for every South Asian journalist to watch. But more on that later.
One remarkable quote from the movie stands out: “The spectators and demonstrators are still here, some it seems are prepared to camp for the night. But they are camped in front of the TV cameras, as if lured by the light and excitement. As if the coverage of the event was more important than the event itself. That’s become a fact of life in stories like this. Television is a presence that no one can ignore. Not the police, nor the terrorists. It has become witness to the story, yet part of the story. And it will probably remain that way as long as people watch the news.” It stood out because the past two weeks are a painful reminder of how the media has become the part of the story and the coverage of the event more important than the event itself.
In the movie when the news of the explosion breaks the newscasters break into tears. A compassionate human touch with elemental decency which is now alien to the subcontinent’s television screens. And then a tragic reminder of the brutalities of nuclear devastation: “Authorities are also caring for hundreds of children who are either orphaned or cannot find their parents. Counsellors tell of recurring nightmares and shock. One child of nine, apparently, committed suicide.” Think.
There is a reason why I mention this movie. Remember in 1983 another very powerful film on the subject of nuclear devastation titled ‘The Day After’ was also released. Ronald Reagan watched it and recorded its impact on his policy in his diary. But Special Bulletin deals with two crucial subjects: nuclear tragedies and their television coverage. It was due to the professional handling of the subject matter that it won four Emmy awards and DGA, WGA and Humanitas prizes.
We, South Asians, live in a nuclear tinderbox. What you see in this movie is a small bomb planted by the rogue elements. India and Pakistan have huge stockpiles and means to effectively deliver the nukes. Without going into extrapolations suffice it to say a full-fledged nuclear war between the two nations means millions would die on both sides. And yet in the past fortnight, India has endured a psychotic break with reality. Indian pundits often say that this talk of nuclear mutually assured destruction is Pakistan’s nuclear blackmail. How blasé? Use your imagination, man. War has a momentum of its own.
But if the Indian government wanted to appear muscular in the light of the approaching elections, the psychosis in the Indian media became only too palpable. Extreme prejudice meant that without ascertaining facts the Indian media blamed Pakistan for the Pulwama blast. Many anchors were demanding annihilation of Pakistan, a nation of 207 million, to avenge the deaths of 40 CRPF cops. No evidence needed. When India finally violated the UN charter and Pakistan’s territorial sovereignty and made baseless claims about striking a camp, these prophets of destruction danced with joy without seeing any credible proof. Likewise, in the case of the unsubstantiated claim of shooting down an F-16. But what did they get? Higher ratings? Some shabash from their crony capitalist bosses? Or merely justifying retainers from their political or intelligence overlords? Whatever the reason, it was a shameful display. The Pakistani media tried to keep up but was left far behind.
Why does this matter? It matters for two reasons. People and the profession. People because in these racist times you forget that the world is watching. No matter how much we try to distinguish ourselves, to the outsiders we look and sound the same. The same colour of the skin, more or less the same language. Since our hate exchanges are often in the English language now, they proliferate. What India says about Pakistan and what Pakistan says about India all stays in people’s mind. To a European, an American or a citizen of any other country, this is not an indictment of India or Pakistan but of South Asians as a whole. I call it mutually-assured disreputation. In coming days this will compound the difficulties faced by the South Asian diaspora. If you want your people to be treated compassionately abroad, you will have to show you are capable of compassion yourself.
And the profession. Journalism is already dying internationally. Television may survive as a device but will be extinct as a medium pretty soon. In America, the polarisation between Fox and MSNBC grew to such an extent that it eroded people’s trust in television. In 2016, it wasn’t only Hillary Clinton who was defeated in the election, news television was also vanquished. If the current trend continues in South Asia, the media here will also meet the same fate. Why prematurely kill a profession which puts bread and butter on your table?
Published in The Express Tribune, March 2nd, 2019.