The Battle of the Muhammad Movies

Coming soon to a screen near you:  not one but two biopics about the life of Muhammad.  One from Iran, one from Qatar.  In other words:  one Shia, one Sunni.

Oy.

And double oy.  Because how do you make a movie about someone you can’t show on the screen?  Images of Muhammad are a no-no in Islam.  Though a few medieval Persian miniatures do show his cloaked figure, his face is blanked out — a white oval in the otherwise vividly colored painting.

quinnNo surprise, then, that there hasn’t been a feature movie about Muhammad since 1976, when Libya’s Muammar Qaddafi — yes, that Qaddafi — funded “The Message,” starring Anthony Quinn (shown here at left) as Muhammad’s uncle Hamza.

Who played Muhammad?  Nobody.  The solution was not to show him at all.  Instead, the camera acted as his eyes.  When the camera panned, you were supposed to think that this was what Muhammad was seeing.  The result was… less than convincing.

What was all too convincing was the violence surrounding the movie’s planned US debut in 1977.  Twelve Nation of Islam extremists not given to fact-checking heard a rumor that Quinn had played not Hamza, but Muhammad himself.  They laid siege to three buildings in Washington DC, where they held 149 hostages and killed a journalist and a police officer until they were persuaded by the combined efforts of the Egyptian, Pakistani, and Iranian ambassadors to surrender.  (The whole miserable story is here.)

Of course the hostage-takers hadn’t seen the movie.  If they had, they might have been amazed by its stereotypical blandness.  And they’d never be aware of their ironic role in ensuring that the director, Moustapha Akkad, gave up on religious-themed movies after “The Message,” made a small fortune directing Jamie Lee Curtis in the famed “Halloween” sequels, and then in 2005 went to a wedding in Jordan and got blown up by a suicide bomber.

If it seems way past time that a better film about Muhammad be made, the question remains how it can be done without violence.  And the problem remains of how to do it without showing him.

The highly regarded Iranian director Majid Majidi (“Children of Heaven,” “Color of Paradise”) began work on his $30-million movie last October, and reportedly intends to show Muhammad’s cloaked figure, but not his face.  In short order, an outraged denunciation came from Cairo’s al-Azhar University, followed by the announcement of plans for a rival movie from Sunni-majority Qatar,  with the blessing of a top Muslim Brotherhood theologian and a budget ranging, in various reports, from $200 million to $1 billion.

So how will the two movies differ, aside from the obvious lavishness of production moola and the issue of cloaked figure or no figure?  If you’ve read After the Prophet, you’ll know that the Iranian movie will likely give a far greater role to Muhammad’s cousin and son-in-law Ali, whom Shia believe Muhammad designated as his successor — his first khalifa, or caliph.  The Qatari movie will just as likely give a heftier role to Muhammad’s father-in-law abu-Bakr, who in fact became the first caliph of Sunni Islam.  In other words, the two movies are likely to act out the Sunni-Shia split.

I guess acting it out with cameras is far preferable to doing so with guns, but the risk of course is that angry denunciations such as that of al-Azhar will only encourage the latter.

croweMeanwhile, Hollywood seems determined not to be left out of the prophets (and, of course, the profits).  Two biopics of Moses are reportedly in the works, with names like Steven Spielberg, Ridley Scott, and Ang Lee being bandied around with Hollywood abandon and zero confirmation.  And gird your loins for a biopic of Noah due for release next year, with the ark-builder being played by the star of “The Gladiator,” Russell Crowe.

Somehow I can’t quite imagine Russell Crowe with an olive branch…

What Happens When We Eat Together

Let me say this upfront:  I’m lousy at interfaith gatherings.  They tend to have an oddly stilted feel.  There’s something of Tarzan and Jane about them: “Me Jew, you Muslim, we friends.”  Far better, I’ve long thought, to get together on a small scale, over the dinner table.  Cook together, break bread together, drink together, and allow the conversation to develop without that weirdly over-determined self-consciousness.

That’s part of what so impressed me in the response of New Zealanders Khayreyah Amani Wahaab and her husband Jason Kennedy to an Islamophobic rant (Muslims shouldn’t be allowed on airplanes, etc) by Richard Prosser, a New Zealand member of parliament:  as I reported here, they invited him to dinner.

And he came to dinner.  Here’s Khayreyah’s post on it last night on her Facebook page:

Tandoori-Chicken3Mr Richard Prosser has just left our house after having a lovely dinner of home-cooked tandoori chicken, salad and roti with raitha. He was very realistic about owning the words he said, but was very clear that whilst he is never going to apologize to terrorists, he is very apologetic and contrite about the hurt and whatever damage he has caused the rest of the Muslim community. He understands, accepts and recognises that the vast majority of Muslims are not terrorist types and have the same fears, values and aspirations that he does.

We both agreed that aviation security is a wider issue that does need to be addressed [Kahyreyrah has a degree in aviation management -- LH], as well as that of Muslims having a louder voice in condemning extremists and their actions. Jason and I both thanked him in the end, since if it wasn’t for his brash words written in a news column, then we would not have identified these needs, that ultimately will benefit the entirety of New Zealand. All three of us are willing to forge a way forward for Muslims in New Zealand in order to make it a happier, safer place, and leading the world in Islamic – Western relations.

Richard did say, interestingly, that of all the mail, comments etc he received from people following the article, our letter by far made him feel worse than all the others. He finds himself to be a person who can deal with anger and resentment being directed towards him but felt out of place dealing with outreach born of love and a desire for understanding. Ultimately both sides agreed that we need to see each other as a whole and not just what the media had chosen to portray, that we cannot expect fair judgement if only one facet of ourselves are exposed to said judgement. We ended the night with a short TedX video of Lesley Hazleton’s talk about being a tourist in the Quran and we promised to have future interactions with a view to improving NZ as a whole. — with Jason Kennedy

Glad to have played a small supporting role.

Morsi’s Anti-Semitism

I wish I could say that Egyptian President Mohamed Morsi’s anti-Semitism surprised me half as much as it seemed to surprise The New York Times.  (“Egyptians should nurse our children and grandchildren on hatred” for Jews and Zionists, Morsi declared in a videotaped speech three years ago. “They have been fanning the flames of civil strife wherever they were throughout history. They are hostile by nature.”)

But the rampant use of anti-Semitic imagery in political rhetoric both in Egypt and in other Muslim countries (“apes,” “pigs,” “bloodsuckers,” said Morsi) is hardly news.  It comes right out of the convoluted paranoia of The Protocols of the Elders of the Zion, which far too many Egyptians still take for fact instead of the fictional fake it was long ago proved to be.  What concerns me is how it seeps into even the best-intentioned minds, in far less obvious but nonetheless insidious ways.

Consider, for instance, an exchange like this one, which I seem to have had a number of times over the past several years:

– “What do the Jews think they’re doing in Gaza?”

– “The Jews?  All Jews?  Which Jews?”

– “The Israelis, of course.”

– “Which Israelis?”

– “Well, the Israeli government.”

– “So why do you not say ‘the Israeli government’ instead of ‘the Jews’?”

This is what you might call the low-level shadow of anti-Semitism.  My interlocutors (I love/hate that word) would never dream of using Morsi’s inflammatory language of hatred.  They’re liberal and moderate American Muslims (some are believing mosque-goers, others self-described agnostics or atheists).  And yet even they are not always immune to that conflation of politics and ethnicity, of Israeli policy and Jewishness.

Each time such an exchange occurs, there’s a pause in the conversation — a moment of discomfort as my interlocutor (that word again!) realizes what I’m responding to.  And then comes a nod of acknowledgement, one that takes considerable courage, since none of us appreciate being called to account.  Call it a small moment of sanity.

I recognize this because it’s mirrored in Israel, where talk of “the Arabs” — a generalization as bad as “the Jews” — veers more and more not just into outright racism, but into a kind of gleeful pride in that racism, as shown in David Remnick’s long piece on “Israel’s new religious right” in the current New Yorker.

Israeli politicians have taken to presenting themselves as defenders of “the Jewish people,” regularly using “Jew” as a synonym for “Israeli,” even though — or because — over 20% of Israeli citizens are Muslim or Christian Arabs.  They do this deliberately, of course, just as the Morsi-type anti-Semitic rhetoric is deliberate.  The emotional resonance of “Jew” is deeper and far older than that of “Israeli,” and thus far more useful as a carrier of both covert and overt pride and prejudice.

As a Jew I find this political claim to represent me both insulting and obnoxious.  Like an increasing number of American Jews, I’m appalled by the policies of the Netanyahu government (let alone those of its predecessors), and at the development of what has clearly become an apartheid regime.  I deeply resent being lumped together with the Netanyahus of this world — and I equally deeply resent the attempt by the Netanyahus of this world to lump themselves in with me and define my Jewishness.  How dare they?  And how dare Morsi?

I’d ask “have they no shame?” but the answer is obvious.

Hannukah Music?

Oh no, the soulful Jew’s harp has nothing to do with Jews?  Never mind:  since it’s Hannukah, and I think making latkes is a terrible thing to do to potatoes, I’m listing this enchanting performance under Judaism anyway…

Onstage At TEDx Rainier

It’ll be a few weeks yet until the video of the TEDxRainier talk I gave last Saturday goes online (multiple cameras — fortunately I was unaware of them — involve post-production work).  But here, by way of a teaser/preview, are three stills just sent me by the organizers.  They’re in chronological sequence, and they do seem to capture the spirit of the talk:

Yom Kippur 2012

My way of observing Yom Kippur.  Somewhere near Mount Rainier:

Blood Brothers

Once again, the extremists have fed each other.  Once again, with other people’s blood.

The blood is that of one of the best friends the new Libya could have had:  US Ambassador Christopher Stevens, killed yesterday, the evening of 9/11, along with three of his staff as they tried to evacuate employees of the American consulate in Benghazi.  The evacuation was necessary because protestors had been whipped into violence by a 14-minute farce of a video attacking the prophet Muhammad.  Or, as now seems possible, the protest was used as an excuse for a planned attack, since RPGs and automatic weapons were involved.

Al-Qaeda-type extremists are apparently the ones who pulled the trigger, using the insult to Islam as an excuse. But they could not have done so without the help of their partners — their Jewish and Christian brothers-in-arms right here in the United States. That’s who provided the ammunition, in the form of a shoddily crude and absurdly amateurish “movie trailer” portraying Muhammad as a fraud and his early supporters as a bunch of goons.

I’m deliberately not linking to the video here since I refuse to link to such tripe. This isn’t an insult to Islam;  it’s an insult to human intelligence. If you feel sufficiently masochistic, you can find it on YouTube by typing in the title, ‘Muslim Innocence’ (the director’s idea of irony).

You’ll see that it’s made by ignorant fanatics for ignorant fanatics. Nobody else would pay it the blindest bit of attention. In fact nobody else did (even the director, an Israeli-American who goes by the name of Sam Bacile, which may or may not be a pseudonym, admits that the whole movie has been shown only once, to a nearly empty movie theater in California). Nobody else, that is, until Florida’s tinpot Quran-burning pastor Terry Jones — the one who once hanged President Obama in effigy and will apparently do anything to get himself back in the news — decided to showcase the trailer as part of his annual 9/11 Islamophobic rant.

I’ll write more about this very soon (I’m just back from a trip, and jet-lagged). But for now, two things:

1. Rest in peace, Christopher Stevens.

2. As for Terry Jones and the man calling himself Sam Bacile: if such a thing as hell exists, may you both rot in it, alongside your blood brothers in Al Qaeda.

Last Week, In Abu Dhabi

Monday 7 pm:  Arrive Dubai in a dust storm, drive an hour and a half to Abu Dhabi.  It’s hot.  And that is British understatement. Realize I’m halfway round the world from mild Seattle.

Monday 10 pm:  Mint tea with Ghadeer, the manager of the Sheikha Salama Foundation, who is gorgeous, brilliant, and totally cool.  (It won’t be until Thursday evening that her father tells me she’s finishing up her doctorate in political science at the Sorbonne; she doesn’t mention it.)

Tuesday 10 am:  Rehearsal for first of two evening forums at the Saadiyat Cultural Center, near where the Louvre and the Guggenheim will be.  On the program:  Karen Armstrong, Imam Khalid Latif (chaplain of NYU and the NYPD), and… me.  Having a bit of trouble believing I’m here.

Tuesday 11 am:  Sheikha Salama and her daughter Sheikha Maryam float over the ground in gossamer-light black abayas.  Had no idea an abaya could be so elegantly beautiful.  More sari than burqa-like.  Wonder if I’ll float too if I wear an abaya…

Tuesday 10.30 pm:  Since it’s Ramadan, the forums are at night.   Tonight, all women.  Here and there, diamond studs flash in startlingly white teeth, and delicate feather-light ruffled skirts peek from under the abayas.  I’ve never spoken to such a superbly graceful and gracious audience.

Tuesday 11.30 pm:  In principle since I’m operating on an 11-hour time difference, I should be fine with night instead of day.  Turns out there’s a difference between principle and reality;  I feel totally surreal.

Tuesday midnight:  A woman who owns 34 prize camels says “You must come back for the camel races.”  I still have the scar on my hand from the one time I tried to gallop on a camel, in the Sinai:  it tripped and threw me, and I didn’t let go of the lead rope in time. Her camels, she assures me, do not trip.

Wednesday 2.30 am:  Raid hotel minibar for a shot of scotch.  Feel amazingly sinful and decadent.  Put sinful decadent feeling to rest by telling myself it’s a cure for jet lag.

Wednesday 1 pm:  Peacocks nesting on the beach with their fledglings.  Dust storm is clearing.  Incredible humidity closing in instead.  Am assured it’s not always like this.  Just in August…

Wednesday 10 pm:  Chatting in a huddle with dynamite student volunteers as we wait for the crowd to arrive at the cultural center.  Love their spirit.

Wednesday 11 pm:  The forum convenes again, this time open to the public.  Photo op with government ministers.  The audience open-minded and open-hearted — a whole series of great conversations afterwards.  A mathematician argues with great charm for clarity;  I argue with what I hope is equal charm for non-clarity.

Thursday 1 am: Meet up with TEDx Al Ain guys — wonderful energy!  We head for a Ramadan tent on the beach for shisha (waterpipe) and saj (flaky herbed pastry), and close the place down.

Thursday 1 pm:  My abaya question answered at the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque.  It somehow fails to make me look like I’m floating over the ground.  I think it only does that for princesses.  But the shayla (the head shawl — so light it scrunches up into the palm of your hand) creates welcome shade.  (That’s Cosimo of Speakers Associates on my right, Mohamed our docent on my left).

Thursday 2 pm:  walking barefoot in 45 C. sun over the huge marble courtyard of the mosque.  The floor is cool underfoot.  I have no idea how.  Giant flowers and vines are inlaid on the marble.  I want to lie down on them but think it might be wise not to.  I trace them with bare feet.

Thursday 3 pm:  Sitting on the floor in front of the qibla staring up at the ceiling and talking space, infinity, mathematics with Mohamed.  Very heady.

Thursday 9 pm:  In the Marina mall to buy a shayla.  I pick one with a silver braided edge, then get ambitious and try on a few abayas before giving up:  there’s a secret to being elegant in one, and I don’t know it.

Thursday 10 pm:  It seems the hyper-air-conditioned mall is where half of Abu Dhabi heads when it’s this hot.  Bump into Ghadeer and her dad, and as we settle in for Turkish coffee, Mohamed the mosque docent passes by and stops to chat.  For a moment it feels as though I live here.

Friday 5 am:  Back to Dubai for the nonstop Emirates flight north over Iran, the Caspian Sea, and Russia, on over the North Pole, then down over Canada to the mildness of home, where I remember someone saying “Lesley, when you get back to Seattle, you’ll think back and wonder if you were really here in Abu Dhabi…”

Poor Iran

Whatever kind of drugs Iran’s vice-president is on, I don’t want them.

Iran has a major drug problem, with opium spilling over the border from Afghanistan.  So who’s to blame?  Jews, of course!  Thus vice-president Rahmini’s speech yesterday at a United Nations anti-drug conference, saying that the Talmud is responsible for the spread of illegal drugs around the world.  And that Zionists control the international drug trade.

His “proof”?  He seems to think there are no Jewish drug addicts.  Which of course only means he’s never been to Tel Aviv.

And you thought it was just president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, with his rantings about the Holocaust being a myth invented by the West (a claim all the odder since it was perpetrated by “the West” — i.e. Germany — but who’s quibbling about details?).

My first impulse is to laugh.  I mean, this is almost a caricature of anti-Semitism.  But then I think “poor Iran, with people like this in charge.”

And Iranians know it.  Mass protests for democratic reform were brutally put down in both 2009 — remember what you thought was the unforgettable image of the dying Neda Agha-Soltan? — and 2011.

Iranians know that the Zionist bugaboo, the “right” to bear nuclear arms, and the “defense-of-Islam” posture are all ways of trying to distract them from a leadership so appalling that it barely merits the term “government.”

Rahmini’s speech is the desperate flailing of failure.  If all else fails, the thinking goes, blow smoke in their eyes.  But the only ones blinded are the smokers.

Hazleton on Hitchens

Last month, Town Hall Seattle ran a program called ‘Three Lives,’  originally touted as eulogies of three public figures — Christopher Hitchens, Kim Jong-Il, and Vaclav Havel — linked by the sole fact that they’d happened to die within four days of each other in December.  I was asked to speak about Hitchens.  “No way,” I said.  “Not unless you’re ready for an anti-eulogy.”

They were.

Here’s the video, in which I start at about the 4.45 time mark, running to 23.10.

But if you want to see a really great presentation, go back to the video and start at the 57.35 mark, where ACT Theatre artistic director Kurt Beattie and actors Bob Wright and Tom Carrato deliver a stunning tribute to Vaclav Havel, inspiring me to go out and buy a copy of ‘Disturbing the Peace’ the next day, when I also read this moving assessment by his long-time translator, Paul Wilson.  I’m only sorry Havel had to die for me to pay closer attention.  But then that’s kind of Wilson’s point.

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