Global Citizenship

Globalization has become an unavoidable part of our world. The earth has flattened, so to speak, and people across the globe are now interconnected in ways unprecedented in mankind’s history. Technology, economy, learning, music, and ideas flow from people to people, from country to country in rapid and almost immediate ways. Certainly, there is a negative side to this but like most things, globalization has the capacity to do good if its negative effects are managed and its positive effects are nurtured. The task of being a productive and engaged global citizen seems daunting; the world is so large, and I am so not. However, it is this very discourse that is the obstacle standing in the way of instigating change and becoming an active voice in the global conversation taking place in this world.

It is easy to write off globalization and capitalism as the root of all the problems facing the world today, throwing blame on the greedy, abusive American corporations who have reached out their fat fingers into the rest of the world, exploiting poor laborers and destroying cultural diversity across the globe. After centuries of imperialism and colonization, the West is often held liable for all the war, violence, poverty, and environmental destruction occurring everywhere.  Although there may be a thread of truth in this, in accepting this worldview, responsibility is sidestepped and shrugged off; not responsibility for the problem, but responsibility for the solution.

            Being a productive and engaged global citizen does not require a humanitarian mission trip abroad, nor does it necessarily call for the learning of another language or full immersion into another culture. There is no denying that these are all excellent things to do; however, the world I personally know exists in more or less a fifty-mile radius around Indianapolis, and if I expect to see real change in my life, it is this piece of the world that I should be claiming citizenship of. Not only is it the area I know the best, but I have a vested and immediate interest in its well-being. As Thomas Turino says in the final chapter of Music as a Social Life, “individuals can make an important difference, but it can only begin as a small difference, and it can only begin where they are and with the people around them” (228). My world happens in front of me everyday: the people I talk to, the places I go, the food I eat, the clothes I wear. These parts of the world are realistically the only parts of the world I am capable of consciously affecting, and it is here where I should be focusing my concern and attention.

            Some might protest this seemingly narrow way of looking at things. The earth is so much bigger than the fifty-mile area around Indianapolis- open your eyes, silly girl, and see how the world really is. In response, I reiterate my point that globalization is an unavoidable component of our lives; the implications of that fact are not solely felt in foreign nations across the globe. The United States does not sit atop the globe and shower its consumerism, economy, media, and entertainment down on everybody else. It is a two-way street, and the community I live in is just as much a part of the global community as Dolly’s community in Jakarta, Indonesia. Everyday I am faced with millions of choices of how and what I am going to say in the global conversation. I can buy food at the Farmer’s Market or I can shop at Target; I can visit the Runcible Spoon in town, or I can take a trip over to the Tibetan monastery down the road. I can ride a bicycle or drive a car. I can join the community orchestra, or I can volunteer at the Lotus Music Festival. I can watch the news on television, or I can buy a newspaper. Millions and millions of choices run by me everyday, and because globalization is now an integral component of our lives, my decision to buy or not to buy the Nike sneakers trials all the way to the other side of the world, and it does affect Dolly in a palpable way. My world exists in the fifty-mile area around Indianapolis, and so does the rest of the world.

In the words of our very own Professor McDonald, “How you music is how you live.” I, however, would say how you do anything is how you live, if that something is repeated to such an extent that it is absorbed into a person’s subconscious and turned into a habit.  Certainly, music can be an incredibly influential tool for altering habits of thoughts and action. Because music operates in our minds at the iconic and indexical level, it holds a significantly greater amount of power in instigating change in our thoughts and minds. History confirms this notion in the story Nazis Germany as well as the civil rights movement in the United States; time will tell how effective hip-hop and punk rock will be as catalysts for change around the world. Being a productive and engaged global citizen means supporting and participating in activities that are in coherence with your values, or the values you wish to promote within yourself and your community. In purchasing a CD because it is ranked number one on all the music charts, the ideas of consumerism and trendiness and support of popular entertainment are promoted in your life. Other activities that support consumerism, trendiness, and popular entertainment are then more easily reinforced in your life because the semiotic objects of both are in agreement. In a musical performance or recital of a strictly presentational setting, that music can becomes a sign for order, structure, and hierarchy. Activities outside of the recital hall that also exist as signs for order, structure, and hierarchy are reinforced and strengthened because, again, the semiotic objects are in agreement. The more activities that are engaged in that have a similar sign-object chain promote a sense of agreement and accord within the self. However, if a purely participatory music session, such as a bira ceremony or a pick up jam session, is the chosen mode of entertainment, activities that signal order, structure, and hierarchy or consumerism, trendiness, and popular entertainment are less likely to be supported because the two do not hold the same semiotic conclusion. Humans’ innate desire to eliminate cognitive dissonance prevents an individual from happily, comfortably partaking in activities that do not harmonize for any length of time.

But is not just music. Anything can be and everything is a sign for something else. Music often operates below rational, cognitive thought, and that is why it is so significant in the dialogue surrounding this issue. Other activities require a certain amount of consideration and deliberate action. The decision to go to Starbucks, for example, or frequent the local coffee shop; that is a conscious choice, a choice more readily realized at the rational level; the repercussions of that seemingly simple decision are extensive, especially in terms of global citizenship. Capitalism may be blamed for many of the problems facing the world today; but the funny thing about capitalism is that it responds to consumers’ demand. I am a global citizen as well as a global consumer, and that is where my individual power lies in the global economy. If change is what is wanted, and change is what is needed, it is decisions like these that need to undergo the greatest scrutiny.

These things, however, are slow in coming. Habits of thought and actions are rigid, but over time, ideas and patterns of behavior can be adapted and amended. Small cultural cohorts can evolve into larger, more permanent cultural formations. Music can be an effective catalyst in this conversation, but so can daily decisions and behaviors. To be a productive and engaged citizen of this world, I must realize the significance of my lifestyle choices and accept responsibility for the current state of our world as well as the direction it spins in the future.

the Runcible Spoon

            On Tuesday evening, our class made an excursion to Bloomington’s very own Runcible Spoon, a charming little Irish pub with the most delicious tomato soup I have ever eaten. Every Tuesday evening, a more or less impromptu group of Irish musicians gathers to play, socialize, and drink free beer. The atmosphere is light and friendly, and the music adds a special charm to the evening. By watching the interaction of the musicians, and after speaking to them about their own experiences, it is clear that the purpose of the music reaches far beyond the music itself, extending into the interactions and connections of the cultural cohort created by the music.

            There were several Irish musicians in attendance. The renowned Irish flutist, Grey Larson, seemed more or less to be the leader of the ensemble, but in truth, the music flowed between them all in a way that makes a word like ‘leader’ seem out of place. Beside Grey sat Zach, another flutist, and around the circle sat Eric, the accordionist, a man from Indianapolis on a bodhran, Laurence playing a mandola, and Cindy on a classical guitar. Another woman, Marge, sat to the side and, at one point in the evening, she sang a beautiful, unaccompanied solo piece. The group filled the majority of the entry room of the restaurant; however, there were still a few chairs and a few places to stand and listen and watch. There was no stage, no separation between the performers and the audience; the setting was dynamic and flexible, very intimate and personal.

            It was very clear that the musicians were not there merely for the music. Certainly, they all expressed a very evident love for the songs they performed. However, the time for socializing between each set of songs was almost equal in length to the amount of time spent actually playing. A song began whenever anyone in the circle felt like playing. They would fiddle out a line, and then those who also knew it would join in. If someone did not know the song, they might sit and listen, or try to catch the go of it and play along as best they could. The music was simple and the form easy to follow. A set usually consisted of three or four songs in a row, and each change was directed by whichever player had initiated the first song. No one held any sheet music in front of them, and according to the players, eye contact and other forms of silent communication is an integral and necessary aspect of these sessions.

The entire group was incredibly welcoming. This was evident in their willingness to humor our questions and talk to us about themselves and their music. This was also evident in their music and style of performance. I spent some time speaking with the bodhran player from Indianapolis. He admitted to not being a ‘regular,’ but told me about his own Irish band and experience with the instruments. Besides the bodhran, he also played the Irish flute, and for some songs, he would pick his flute up to play along with Grey and Zach. Although he was not familiar with all the same tunes as the others, there was absolutely no sense of animosity towards him for his efforts to learn the song, despite the occasional wrong note or misstep of the music. The group’s values clearly lay more towards the participatory side of the spectrum, and they were happy to have an additional member to that evening’s ensemble, no matter the skill level.

The music played by these musicians fosters participation, engagement, and personal connection with others. It was easy to observe that their interactions with other people included those same characteristics; following this, it makes sense to hypothesize that these characteristics are also present in these people’s daily lives and held within their core value system. There is no question in my mind that the values of the music played that evening are in coherence with the values held by these people in their day-to-day lives. There is an overwhelming spirit of cooperation and appreciation of others that seems fully authentic.

The music, although enjoyable, was obviously not the main purpose of the event. It was, however, the means for the creation and maintenance of this social cohort. Although everyone participating in the music Tuesday evening was drawn to the Runcible Spoon because of a shared love of Irish music, they were also drawn together because of a shared love of community and participation. Music was the excuse to gather and spend an evening with friends.

The Punks Are Alright

            The documentary film The Punks Are Alright closely examines punk rock music as it exists around the world today, focusing on specific stories of people in Canada, Brazil, and Indonesia. Despite the diverse geography, the parallels of the movement across the globe reveals common, universal struggles facing millions of people, struggles of poverty, of identity, of economic depression, of dead-end jobs and no future, of hopelessness, and of powerlessness. The fact that these individuals, each of whom represent a broader social group in their respective countries, turn to punk as an answer is extremely telling of the current state of these countries. They say they protest against violence, against capitalism, and against globalization. Globalization seems to be the root of many of their sufferings; however, I would argue that at this point, it could also be the remedy.

            At first glance, punk-rock music seems like the most horrific outpouring of violent, angry, unruly, teenager yelling that has ever been created by anyone. The pounding drum and bass line combined with the repetitive power chords of the guitar and the shouting vocal line is difficult for many to stomach, let alone the spiked mohawks, sleeve tattoos, chains, piercings, and studded leather jackets that have all become integral parts of the punk rocker style. The movement is, by definition, underground, and consequently, concerts tend to be in rather small, cramped, probably very dirty venues. Each event is characterized by a mosh-pit of an audience; shoving, pushing, screaming, yelling, fist pumping, jumping, stomping around, crowd surfing, and other similar behaviors are completely acceptable, and in a sense, expected. The mood seems angry, dangerous, wild, and destructive.

            Misunderstood, I would say.

            After having watched the documentary, I can only feel respect and admiration for those who perform and listen to punk music. It is not about the music itself; it has never been about the music itself, but the beliefs, concepts, and ideologies that the music is, are revolutionary. For the youth of Brazil and Indonesia, I cannot imagine the kind of bravery it must require to be a dedicated fan or a dedicated musician of punk rock music. (I am purposefully excluding the Canadians from this. No offense, but their situation does not seem as comparable.) As we discussed in class, there seems to exist a direct correlation between the increase of poverty in an area and the increase of religious fundamentalism. It makes sense that when a person suffers materially, he or she is likely to turn to a higher power for answers. The communities in Sao Paulo, Brazil and Jakarta, Indonesia are incredibly poor, and, as the documentary revealed, religion was a huge part of both. Brazil is home to the largest population of Catholics in the world, and Indonesia is the home to the largest population of Muslims. The societal pressures placed upon a community like this cannot be overlooked. The courage it must take to shove off those pressures is something to be admired, and it reveals the potential force the youth of these nations has in instigating change in their communities.

            Music has a purpose in our lives; if it did not have a purpose, it would not have survived this long and this vibrantly in human history. Music fills my needs, and music fills the needs of Henrike and Dolly. This is how we are similar, despite the differences that separate us. My own personal suffering may seem paltry and pathetic in comparison to what Henrike and Dolly have seen in their lives, but nonetheless, we are connected by this. By examining the type of music we both look to in filling our needs reveals the depth of the nature of our needs. The fact that they both turn to punk rock is incredibly telling of the problems facing both individuals and both societies. In this way, music can be seen as a tool for understanding a culture and the issues associated with that culture. Both turn to punk because punk fills a need they both share.

            The effects of globalization are extensive and widespread. The documentary certainly shows the negative side of the increased flow of culture and economy across borders, and while watching this film, I cannot help but feel like the oppressor in these stories. I am the capitalist America who is building the factories in these third world nations. I am the consumer who is creating the demand for the products produced in the sweatshops where they work. I have all the wealth, all the technology, all the education, the opportunity, the arrogance, and they have the suffering. It is easy to see how our lives intersect economically; I buy the shoes Dolly makes in the factory where he works. We are both parts of a capitalist global economy.

Politically, the United States, Brazil, and Indonesia operate with representative governments, and so we have that in common as well, although that is not necessarily a negative effect of globalization. Culturally, we are growing closer, and there is good and bad that comes with that. There is an argument that exists criticizing the spread culture between nations as a ‘cultural gray-out,’ that this loss of diversity around the world is something to be mourned. Although there may be some truth to this argument, it is also worth considering the benefits of globalization. Punk, a music that originated in Western culture, is now available to billions of people in virtually any place in the world.  Bands from Canada inspire bands in Brazil, who send their music to Indonesians. In all of these places, punk is welcomed by thousands of people as a means of satisfying a desire to find an escape from the framework of their lives. The chaos of punk music is a reaction against the oppression and structure of living. Globalization may have caused the problem, but if it also provides, as Dolly would say, the remedy to the sickness, then it should be welcomed and utilized to its fullest potential.

Punk is considered to be a liberating and freeing music and style to its followers. A punk rocker is free to dress however, say whatever, be whoever, and step beyond their situation. There are no social, ethnic, or cultural limitations at a rock concert. The music is intentionally simple and accessible to everyone. There is no hierarchy in sound, form, behavior, or concept. Everyone is equal. It is the opposite of the economic and social realities in Brazil and Indonesia, but it opens the mind to an alternative framework. Punk rock is, essentially, participatory music. Because of this and because of its powerful appeal to so many people in these areas, the punk movement in the youth of these countries has the potential to grow into something greater than merely the music itself. Punk music, or any music for that matter, provides an alternative model for living and a means of transcending the framework of the people’s current situation.

Bloomington Farmer's Market

I Love Hip-hop in Morocco

            Hip-hop has long been regarded as American music, born from the ghettos of New York and defined by the developments and innovations of American artists. Its lyrics and musical style have meant many things to different people; however, since its beginning, hip-hop has always been more or less an edgy, free flowing experiment, working to redefine traditional ideas about music, expression, and style. Although, as explained in the documentary film I Love Hip-Hop in Morocco, hip-hop is no longer solely an American experience. A hip-hop movement has been growing in Morocco for some time, and with that, come the same ‘American’ ideas about freedom of expression and redefining traditional cultural, mainstream views. The far-reaching effects that this music style can bring into a country such as Morocco has the potential to initiate a tremendous amount of constructive change and much needed innovation into the country’s current social and economic depression.

            The documentary I Love Hip-Hop in Morocco follows a group of Moroccan hip-hop artists as they struggle against financial limitations and cultural stereotypes in an effort to hold the first ever hip-hop music festival in Morocco. Their battle and the reasons behind their battle is incredible illustration of the potential these young people have in instigating change and reform in their culture. Most of the hip-hop artists in this film admit to feeling an unbearable lack of freedom, and hip-hop, for them, is a means of compensating for that. Members of H-Kayne, the most popular hip-hop group in Morocco, spoke of their music as a means of escape, a way to express personal views and convey a message indirectly to a larger audience. In a county that lacks the freedom of speech, hip-hop has become a way of expressing oneself. A group of teenagers interviewed on the street held similar opinions on hip-hop and equate the freedom the music provides with the freedom available in America. Another artist from the group Mot de Passe likened a rapper with a messenger, and to him, hip-hip speaks the truth. Free speech seems to be a dream for many Moroccans, admittedly a seemingly impossible dream, and hip-hop, to some extent, fulfills that dream. After listening to these people speak about hip-hop and America, it is clear that at the semiotic level, hip-hop is a sign for America; America is then a sign for free speech and free expression. Following the sign-object chain, the acceptance of hip-hop in Morocco can lead to end interpretant of wider acceptance of free speech and free expression in Morocco.

            Hip-hop can work not only to redefine what is and is not socially and politically acceptable but, as seen in the story of Fatishow, it can also play an incredibly powerful role in redefining gender stereotypes. Fatishow was the first female rapper in the country ever to perform on stage, and she did so at the “I Love Hip-Hop in Morocco” music festival. As the video shows, when she first steps on stage with her singing partner Amine, the crowd boos and refuses to clap for her. To them, a woman is a cultural sign for a quiet, domestic homemaker, or what have you; anything but a hardcore rapper performing on stage. Fatishow, however, stands her ground and lays down her rhymes. By the end of her act, the crowd is cheering genuinely and enthusiastically. In her performance, she proved herself to be a strong, assertive, and confident young woman, and by doing so, she has provided a new personal index for the thousands of people at the concert. Probably for the first time in many of those people’s lives, they witnessed a female figure in public filling a ‘man’s role,’ and furthermore, she was doing so equally as well or perhaps better than her male peers. From the concert itself, this was one of the most immediate, visible effects of the potential hip-hop has for true cultural reform in Morocco, and this potential is something that should be celebrated and promoted in countries such as this.

            The hip-hop artist DJ Key, founder of the Original Hip-Hop Association and pioneer of hip-hop in Morocco, admitted to feeling a sense of conflict when he attempts to reconcile his Islamic religion with the American hip-hop music he loves so much. In the eyes of some, hip-hop is forbidden, and for DJ Key, he sometimes feels blocked by this part of his faith. He has no answer to provide on the issue, simply concluding with acknowledgement of the struggle. To many, the reconciliation of these seemingly contradictory concepts- Islam and Western hip-hop- is impossible.

            However, it is important to see that hip-hop is no longer a foreign music style; it is no longer solely American. These Moroccan artists have taken it and transformed it into something new, something very much Moroccan. Hip-hop may not have been Moroccan before, but it certainly is now.

            Too often in the discourse surrounding American foreign policy there is a definitive good guy and bad guy, and if you are not with us, you are against us.  If a country is not pro-Westernization, then it must be pro-Islamization. Morocco, however, reveals a third option that should be considered and valued in American foreign policy. The American Embassy worker in the documentary said that his mission was to promote the understanding of American culture and values in Morocco, and that was one of his reasons for valuing and agreeing to help fund the “I Love Hip-hop in Morocco” music festival. Certainly, this is a worthy goal; the shared love of hip-hop in the United States and in Morocco provides the beginnings of a bridge for mutual understanding and cooperation. It is worth noting, however, that encouraging the growth of a strong, vibrant, young, open-minded population of Moroccans for the sake of a stronger, more vibrant, open-minded Morocco is a loftier goal for everyone to work towards.

There is a powerful underling message in the documentary of the need for Moroccans to find their own voice. Not an echo of America’s voice, or a repetition of Islam’s voice. There is a moving scene in the documentary in which the hip-hop rapper Brownfingaz goes back to his home city and marvels at the bareness of the streets and emptiness of his neighborhood. He speaks of the strength of the walls of his home, walls that have stood for hundreds of years, which have now been abandoned for shoddy American-style homes in the suburbs. His father says that every parent wishes for his or her children to be able to leave Morocco to find a better life. There is an incredible need for Moroccan pride and Moroccan culture that is not seen in the documentary. Perhaps hip-hop is the way in filling some of that need or perhaps providing the necessary encouragement for the growth of something else that can fill that need.

America has a vested interest in the promotion of hip-hop and other such cultural movements around the world. Why should trillions of dollars be spent killing innocent civilians and decimating cities when a mere $10,000 could be used to provide the opportunity for over 36,000 Moroccans to join together and sing songs about standing up against terrorism? Because that’s what they did, and that is what needs to be encouraged and promoted in the Middle East, if any foreign aid is to be provided at all. Because the United States Embassy helped fund the “I Love Hip-hop in Morocco” music festival, America’s name has now had a powerful association with a positive and successful event. Instead of seeing the flag painted on the side of a tank, the American flag was seen waving in the crowd at the concert. Hip-hop can be utilized as a catalyst for change and development of new indexical clusters; old habitual thinking can be opened to new ideas, and in this way, Morocco and other countries like it across the global can make true progress towards peace and economic prosperity.

Reel Bad Arabs

            The documentary film Reel Bad Arabs: How Hollywood Vilifies a People is a courageous and rather shocking illustration of the ways in which Middle Easterners have been portrayed in popular media and film throughout the course of the 20^th century. The film features the research of Dr. Jack Shaheen, author of the book of the same name, who, after surveying nearly 1000 films from the past century which featured Arab or Middle Eastern characters, found that of those films, only an incredibly small handful depicted Arabs as anything but crude, villainous, violent, foolish, fanatical, barbaric, and backward. Moviemakers and popular media has been able to rely on the vilification and dehumanization of the face of the Arab world to such an extent that the distortion and misrepresentation of the Middle East has become a normal, accepted, and even expected part of our social and political ideologies. When these ideas reach the subconscious level of our iconic and semiotic processing, fostering and maintaining an open and rational discourse in foreign policy and international relations can become incredibly difficult.

            The traditional Arab stereotyped character looks the same in every movie. He is the violent thug, the fat sheik, the crazed terrorist, the religious fanatic, the barbaric, bearded villain. There is always a violent undertone to his actions, and there is always a general antagonism to the West. This character is seen repeatedly in popular movies, and he is always the bad guy. He is seen in several of the Indiana Jones movies, as well as in the Mummy series. He is in True Lies (1994), Death Before Dishonor (1987), Back to the Future (1985), Rules of Engagement (2000), Gladiator (2000), and according to the documentary film, he is also in Disney’s Aladdin (1992).

            It is difficult for me to describe the horror I felt when I saw clips from Aladdin, one of my most beloved childhood films, placed on the same level as Arnold Schwarzenegger’s True Lies in the documentary. How could Aladdin- Aladdin- have had the same effect in our society in the promotion of prejudice and racism of Middle Easterners? After all, Aladdin himself, the protagonist of the story, is from the same country as the villains, and clearly, he is not barbaric, backward, or evil. However, after our discussion in class today, I am hard-pressed to identify anything about Aladdin and Jasmine’s character that identifies them as ‘Arab’ other than their names and their complexions. They speak like Americans, they sing like Americans. Even the Genie, a figure completely absent from any Western folklore or American tradition acts and speaks like he was born and bred in the United States. The heroes are clearly set apart from the others in the movie; this is especially evident in the scene when Jasmine nearly has her hand cut off due to her ignorance of the ‘Arabic’ code regarding the punishment for thieves. The heroes are still Westernized, and the villains are still Arabized.

I loved this film as a child, and I admit to still loving it today. I am realizing now, though, that this movie was the only exposure of any kind of ‘Arabland,’ that I had during the early part of my life. The only connection I had to that culture and that part of the world was through Aladdin, and as a result, all of my iconic and semiotic associations concerning any Middle Easterner are more or less limited to the images and messages presented in this movie: dirty men with dark beards, foolish guardsmen, scantily clad women, camels, elephants, thieving monkeys, enormous riches surrounded by cruel poverty, tigers as pets, huge deserts, mysterious music, gleaming palaces, and magic carpets. All of these images are signs, in my mind, of the Middle East; or rather, the Middle East is a sign for all of these images. Clearly, however, they are incredibly false. This semiotic chain has been repetitively reinforced in other popular media as I have grown older, and it seems to have reached the point where I no longer question the connection. I am wondering at this point though if I ever have been in the position to be able to.

            The extent to which this iconic imaging has infiltrated my prejudices was made apparent to me during the documentary when it discussed the issues concerning Arab women in these Hollywood films. The basic message of this section was that Hollywood’s depiction of women in the Middle East places them centuries behind the actual, truthful progress they have made in terms of education and equal rights. I am embarrassed to admit this, but I was shocked to see the images in the documentary of Middle Eastern women working as news anchors on television. I catch myself wondering where in the Middle East this news was being broadcasted and how often women are able to fill these positions. I then begin to wonder what percentage of the population in the Middle East even owns a television. Yet there, right before my eyes, is proof that the Middle East does indeed use electricity, and there in front of a camera is, clearly a very normal-looking, capable, well-dressed, respectable, career woman where I was expecting a to see a belly-dancing, veiled, oppressed and downtrodden harem. I apologize for writing so crudely, but in my mind, in my media, the idea of an Arab woman is a sign for oppression and subordination; in this view, my interpretant then becomes either, ‘I am so thankful to be an American, liberated woman,’ or ‘the United States military efforts in the Middle East are justified because we are helping to free Arab women from their backward, cultural repression.’ This final interpretant is the problematic end result of this dialogue; and based on the scenes presented in the documentary, Arab women, at least not these Arab women, are not suffering from any obvious backward, cultural repression.

            An added danger in this conversation is revealed when examining the sources of some of these stereotypical promotions. It terrifies me to know that the Department of the Defense has had a role to play in the funding and production of some of these films. This bias can be seen notably in the movie Rules of Engagement, which was written by a man named Jim Webb, former Secretary of the Navy and current United States Senator from Virginia. The movie effectively dehumanizes the Yemen people, including a young girl who is revealed to be a violent terrorist herself. There is also an incredible amount of slant against the Palestinians. The Israeli people, however, are much more likely to be the heroes of their stories, which is convenient, considering American policy concerning the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. This is not to say that the current foreign policy is wrong or right, or that America has thrown down it glove on a Hollywood whim, but when actual foreign policy mirrors the foreign policy on screen, a more critical persepctive should examine why.

Entertainment media, like music, is more likely to persuade a person of a belief because it operates below reason. There is no political speech or slogan that can communicate ideas as effectively as an image or a song. If an Arab man, or more specifically a Palestinian man is portrayed in movies as always being an extremist, always speaking harshly, always intent on killing all the Jewish people on the Gaza strip, then convincing the American people to go to war with Palestine or other Arab nations is a piece of cake because the sign-object relation between the two already justifies the war. In a movie, the Arab villain is an icon for a terrorist. The interpretant of this is the need for the American hero to destroy the danger and save the day. In international politics, the Arab man has become an icon for a terrorist. The interpretant of this is the need for the American troops to destroy the danger and save the day. It is one in the same; the object and the interpretant are the same, and if we as a nation cannot recognize this discourse and view the situation rationally, our racism and stereotypes will get the best of our reasoning and prevent us from making appropriate and reasoned decisions at a global and a personal level.

Discourse on Terrorism

In the post-9/11 climate, the discourse on terrorism has undergone a major and noticeable change, for obvious reasons. In this changing conversation, music and the media has played a powerful role in following and in many ways, emboldening the ideas in the hearts and minds of the general public. Redundancy in both of these areas has aided in the creation of subconscious assumptions about the continuing war in the Middle East as well as terrorism throughout the world. The end result is the creation of habits of thought that are powerful and slow to change.

The political discourse generated by leading politicians and repeated continually by mainstream media has developed powerful, and now unquestioned indexical clusters. For example, the term ‘War on Terror’ is now used synonymously with the ‘War in Afghanistan’ and the ‘War in Iraq.’ At this point in the conversation, ‘terror’ and ‘Afghanistan’ and ‘Iraq’ are all one in the same. After the repeated association of these words in political speeches and the like, the connection is no longer questioned. The natural interpretation to this word association is that terror must come from Afghanistan and Iraq, or more generally, terror must come from the Middle East. If terror comes from the Middle East, then the next step in this logic is that terrorists are Middle Easterners. The consequence of this is that Middle Easterners become a sign for terror, or terrorism. The interpretant for this is a desire for increased national security, which leads to support of the creation of the Department of Homeland Security and the acceptance of the passage of the Patriot Act. The effects of this discourse can be examined in another way. Because those who were involved in the terrorism of 9/11 were Muslim extremists, perpetrators of acts of terrorism have been classified as Muslim extremists, a term that is easily shortened to Muslim. In this case, the sign is terrorism, and the object is Muslims. The interpretant then becomes a vocalized fear of all Muslims, or a belief that all terrorist acts are committed by Muslims.

This interpretant was verified recently in the aftermath following the horrific act of terrorism that occurred this summer in Norway. Although it is now known that the man behind the shooting was a far right-wing, Islam-hating nationalist, who was attempting to prevent Norway from moving further towards a multiculturalism, the initial finger-pointing was directed at jihadist terrorist organizations. The force of these ignorant accusations and of the readiness of the people to believe them demonstrates how far we as a people have gone in accepting the interpretant that all terrorist acts are committed by Muslims, when clearly they are not. The question then becomes why and how we ended up at this point in our discourse on terrorism.

The logic that concludes with the interpretant that all terrorists are Muslims operates at a sub-logical level. Obviously, if anyone were to step back for a moment and examine this objectively, many logical fallacies would be noticed, but that exactly is the issue. This discourse on terrorism is not generated at the logical level. Prejudices are not formed rationally. Music operates the same way, and that is why is can be such an effective tool in promoting a specific ideology or discourse on an issue.

Take the song “Wanted Dead or Alive,” performed by Bon Jovi at the “Concert for New York City” in October of 2001.

The words in the song mirror almost exactly the words utilized by the president in regards to the mission of the American troops in their search for those responsible for the attacks on the World Trade Centers and the Pentagon. Singing along to the popular, well-known Bon Jovi song at the benefit concert reinforces the president’s message, whether the participants realize it or not. This is not to condemn the words or the sentiments behind the words, but it is important to realize the connection and correlation of the two. Both the president’s words and the song “Wanted Dead or Alive” have the same object, and that is war against Afghanistan is justified in order to hunt down bin Laden and make him pay for what he did. The performance of the song reinforces the sentiment at the iconic and indexical level.

With this viewpoint in mind, songs that were popular during the years immediately following 9/11, such as “Have You Forgotten” by Darryl Worley and “Angry America” by Toby Keith, need to be reexamined. 

Truthfully, it is difficult to form a coherent argument to the latter. There is something about an American flag printed on a guitar that pulls too strongly at my patriotic heartstrings and side steps normal logic. But in a way, that is kind of the point. Music itself and the images presented in concerts, in movies, and on television are registered emotionally and iconically before there is even an opportunity to consider the ideology being portrayed. When an idea is presented in a certain context, it can be internalized without being critically examined because entertainment  exists in a specific framework. This can be seen in the popular comedy routine by Jeff Dunham titled “Achmed the Terrorist.”

The fact that the audience laughs at all of the horribly racists jokes made throughout the performance is telling of the extent to which our discourse on terrorism has accepted the identification of Muslims and Middle Easterners as terrorists.

Dissent and opposing views have been slow in coming, just as habits of thought are slow in changing. These videos created by the hip-hop artist Lowkey are some of the few that present an alternative picture of the American military efforts around the world. 
 

For me, it is hard to watch these two videos- videos which by the way, have been banned in Great Britain- without feeling uncomfortable and uneasy. It is difficult to stomach a view that so boldly questions the righteousness of the American Dream. The ideas presented do not coincide with the mainstream opinion on the war, and as a result, a disagreeable feeling of cognitive dissonance is overwhelmingly felt, at least in my opinion. I must admit to feeling a little biased in favor of the Toby Keith version of America; but that one-sided discourse has dominated much of my childhood, and I am loathe to question the American that I love and honestly do believe in, despite its flaws. Clearly, the discourse concerning the strength of America’s goals in the Middle East has caught me.

Whatever an individual’s opinions about the ‘War on Terror’ are, there is no denying that recognizing and identifying the forces at play in these types of situations are crucial to understanding and maintaining an openness to other ideas and opinions. This is incredibly difficult, however, because we register these ideas below the rational and logical level. I think most would agree that blocking the free flow of ideas in music and in the media is a means of coercing a set of beliefs onto a people. Music does an incredible job of reinforcing and adding subconscious support to an idea, and when the music is biased or one-sided, it becomes almost impossible to have a rational, open, and all-inclusive dialogue on any issue, terrorism, war, or peace.