Shrek, Iran and Public Diplomacy: Seeing is Believing

The role of U.S. films in cultural diplomacy is not new, nor is the distribution of American films around the globe.  But those phenomena bear a reexamination every once in a while.  In this case, it is through the movie Shrek,a worldwide blockbuster (with various sequels and spin-offs).   That big green ogre has something to tell us about how different societies interpret and reinterpret American films, and more broadly how those societies view themselves and others.  Understanding processes like this is, to my mind, the key to public diplomacy.  Listening, analyzing and understanding are at the core of what makes day in, day out diplomacy work.  Why Shrek?

Earlier this year Brian Edwards wrote a thought-provoking article for The Believer(March/April – the 2010 Film Issue), “Watching Shrek in Tehran: The Seen and Unseen in Iranian Cinema.”When I first read the piece I was inclined to post something on it right away, but every time I sat down to do so I found that whatever instant opinion I might have had about it did not bear up to re-readings and re-considerations.   So I posted a couple other pieces and carried the Shrek article with me in my briefcase, reading it again several times on airplanes and hotel rooms as I lurched through a maddening travel schedule this spring.   I am still thinking about the article – but here is what I have so far.

First, it is useful (and entertaining) to learn about the dubbing of films in Iran – and how that process has evolved since the 1979 Revolution.

The Iranian film industry has a long and illustrious tradition of high-quality dubbings. In the post-Revolution era, and the ensuing rise of censorship, dubbing has evolved to become a form of underground art, as well as a meta-commentary on Iranians’ attempt to adapt, and in some way lay claim to, the products of Western culture. A single American film like Shrek inspires multiple dubbed versions—some illegal, some not—causing Iranians to discuss and debate which of the many Farsi ShreksShrek, the stereotypes associated with each accent adding an additional layer of humor for Iranians. In the more risqué bootlegs, obscene or off-topic conversations are transposed over Shrek’s fairy-tale shenanigans.

There is a lot in that paragraph to catch the attention of a variety of audiences: the face that the is an Iranian film industry (this is certainly news to at least some Americans), censorship, the position(s) of Western culture in Iran and the ways in which a film like Shrek becomes a vehicle for other conversations.  But Edwards goes farther:

Perhaps the question I should have been asking was this: What does it mean that Americans and Iranians make such different things of each other’s cinemas?

Edwards’ article juxtaposes Iranian filmmakers Abbas Kiarostami (“…lionized in the U.S. but not generally admired in Iran”) and Mohsen Makhmalbaf who has been outspoken in favor of Iranian opposition candidate Mir Houssein Mousavi. It is certainly not the first time someone was more popular abroad than at home.  At the time of his assassination, Anwar Sadat was certainly more popular in the U.S. than in Egypt.  How to explain Jerry Lewis’ popularity in France or David Hasselhoff’s in Germany?  Lewis and Hasselhoff are fairly absurd examples, to be sure, but it just might be that is their appeal as American symbols overseas.  They are (or were) popular because they were able to represent what others wanted to see in the U.S. Accordingly, that is likely the same reason that Kiarostami appeals to a small slice of Americans – he represents what those Americans want to see in Iran.

So, what are we to make of the Kiarostami-Makhmalbaf dichotomy?  Is it a fair comparison? Richard Brody takes on that question in his New Yorker review of Edward’s article, The Big Picture. In that comparison, Brody focuses on the difference between how art films (my phrase) and overtly political films are received.  For Brody it is less of a question of the nationality of the audience – or the director – and more about the type of film.

Whether here or, apparently, in Iran, movies that deal with “issues” are often taken more seriously, and taken to be more political, than those which deal with ideas. This may be the most universal form of misjudgment to affect moviemakers, at home or abroad.

That’s a fair point.  But who is doing the interpreting? I would imagine that the American audience seeing Iranian films is not at all comparable to the Iranian audience seeing U.S. films.  Those (sadly, few) Americans who might be inclined to take in an Iranian movie generally bring to the experience very specific ideas about Iran, so the film serves as a way to confirm/inform those notions about the Middle East, Islam, Iran and perhaps U.S. foreign policy (perhaps).  And it is an audience that prefers art films over blockbusters like Shrek.

It is impossible to imagine why Kiarostami is regarded differently by U.S. audiences than he is in Iran without pondering the essential differences between those audiences.  One can only imagine many members of the American audience leaving a Kiarostami film and having a spirited political discussion over a skinny latte or a pinot noir.  Edwards, in discussing Joan Copjec’s analysis of Kiarostami, hits the nail on the head:

Thus, Kiarostami’s becomes a cinema that anyone with Orientalist urges—from the browsers of Anthropologie clothing catalogs to the addicts of the New York Times’s Sunday travel section to the fedayeen of Samuel Huntington’s Clash of Civilizations—can cherish.

Edwards walks the reader through the process by which a non-political filmmaker like Kiarostami can be misread as political and as offering insight into an otherwise dark and mysterious society.  I won’t repeat his analysis here, suffice to say that it is a concise rendering of a process we see played out again and again in Western misreadings of the Muslim world. Edwards undoes Copjec’s analysis largely on the basis of his own experiences in Iran and makes (subtly) a powerful case for spending time other countries as a way to gain deeper and broader insights into the complexities and nuances of the society in question.

Let me just say this: Joan Copjec is describing an Iran I only saw before I got to Iran.

But the converse in Iran is not true.  Edwards notes that U.S. films like Shrek and its many creative dubbings do not serve as a way for Iranians to ponder all sorts of things about the U.S., instead through the dubbings the films are transformed into Iranian films for Iranians.  Neither the audiences nor the films they choose are comparable.

Some of what is at play in Edwards’ article is a question of epistemology and his focus is on how the West reads or misreads Iran.  What passes for knowledge might be just a distant glimmer of insight. This is acute with countries that have been largely closed off to the West for a long period of time, like Iran (North Korea and Libya).   The lack of access to a broad range of information leaves little choice but to try garner insights wherever possible and to project upon those things (like films) answers to questions that might not be at all appropriate.  In this context, everything  becomes a potential for deep political insight and the deciphering of mysterious codes.  A cottage industry of academics and policy analysts develops, offering to guide everyone else through the labyrinth of symbols.   The temptation to overreach in such analyses is always there and, as Edwards tell us, the only real antidote is actually showing up and getting a sense of the place.   It’s not quite that simple, of course, but it’s a start; necessary but not sufficient.

So what?  For the purposes of this blog and its focus, I am interested in how readings and misreadings result in government policies, and how those policies are implemented and by whom.  Edwards is, too.  Toward the end of his article he lays into the U.S. State Department:

When American State Department officials imagine that the export of Hollywood film and American pop music can be simple weapons in the battle for “hearts and minds” of other cultures (as so many of the champions of so-called “cultural diplomacy” do these days), they are suffering from a Cold War hangover.

This charge is certainly on target when seeing cultural diplomacy as the mere, one-way export of American pop music and films to the rest of the world.  But this should not be the way diplomacy – cultural or otherwise –  happens.  When carried out properly, cultural diplomacy must be part of a larger public diplomacy effort that includes communications, culture and educational exchanges.  And in all of that there must be people who see this process as a two-way street, who listen as much as they speak.  The key to this is having Foreign Service Officers in key posts who understand the nuances Edwards is guiding us to, and also in having the same on-the-ground experience Edwards found so important in his own understanding.

Much of diplomacy requires learning, listening and wading deep into the culture of other countries.  That is impossible when the U.S. does not have an embassy in Tehran (a debate for later) or very few officers who speak the language.  This soaking and poking form of public diplomacy is also very difficult in countries where U.S. embassies are fortresses that lock FSOs inside and keep out far too many people, especially those with provocative perspectives.  What is worth noting is that this all worked better during the Cold War when USIA still existed.  The hangover that Edwards mentions is not that that we keep repeating the mistakes of the past.  In this case, it is my contention that we have lost much of the capacity we had during the Cold War.  Many of our cultural programs and exchanges have been canceled or downgraded, American cultural centers/libraries closed and public diplomacy is still seeking a proper place within the confines of the State Department.  With the demise of USIA and the rise of post-9/11 garrison-embassies, it has become much more difficult for diplomats to wade into other cultures to the extent that they can gain the deep understanding of a phenomenon like the Shrek dubbings (or that the director Makhmalbaf supports Mousavi but does not seek to upend the entire political system in Iran).   There are certainly many excellent FSOs carrying US public diplomacy but this is one of those cases in which the Cold war was not the bad old days (although bad in many other ways).  In my experience from afar, USIA developed creative programs and a cadre of many FSOs who would have been in the cinemas understanding the Shrek dubbings and all its nuances. This is not to be nostalgic but to consider what elements might get us that sort of cultural diplomacy again.  Brian Edwards’ article is an excellent reminder of what is being missed, and that’s an important place to begin.  The next installment of Shrek comes out later this month.  Get ready for the next round of dubbing.