When hyper reality blurs the boundaries

MILLIONS of people across the globe live under the constant bombardment of media messages that carry meanings both subliminal and expressed. Because of the sheer volume of the information coming from all directions, it is not surprising that ‘real’ reality becomes confused with the altered or hyper realities created by the media industry.

This blurring of boundaries, and the many instances of intentional and unintentional indoctrination, go largely unnoticed by the media consumer and work on a subconscious level by changing attitudes and expectations. Therefore, entertainment and advertising have greater effect in this regard (for the consumer has his guard down) although the news media play a role too.

As an example of the last, consider a headline on a popular news website that referred to Russia’s relations with the “outside world.” (I use this example purely in terms of language; Russia’s relations with the world are not under debate in this article.) The very use of the term “outside world” suggests walls and barriers where Russia is closed in, imprisoned or shut in, perhaps, while everybody else is outside — free. The term evokes images of either detention (which is in turn associated with the idea of being out of control), or of barricades (which admits to comparative powerlessness). These images echo and follow the agenda of the western view of the erstwhile Soviet Union: Russia is a ‘them’, not an ‘us’; those people are imprisoned by their ghosts, we are free; we are more powerful than the Red menace.

Reading this headline, few people would register such associations. But the linkages are all there in our minds, subtly altering our views and tweaking our attitudes. “Russia’s relations with the rest of the world” would have made very different links.

But I digress: hyper reality and real life have different narratives and assumptions. When the boundaries become blurred, we end up viewing real life through the prism of media-constructed hyper realities, which become more convincing every day — think Industrial Light and Magic.

The concept is simple. Asked to think of a battleground, for example, most of us — not having had personal experience of war zones — will construct an image based in large proportion on the war films and television programming we have seen. The action genre has solidified in our minds the concept of a ‘man on a mission’ — that some people are selected by destiny to play a certain role and there is no doubt about their success. Meanwhile, from Superman to Maula Jutt and Mr India, we have been indoctrinated by hyper reality to expect that a man standing up to fight for the poor, oppressed and powerless cannot help but eventually succeeding. The hyper reality feeds into our own, very human optimism.

But this can also give some of us illusions of grandeur. President Bush sees himself as the saviour of the world and the protector of democracy when all real indications are that the bumblings spearheaded by him have created increasing points of conflict in the world. He continues in his hyper reality because he sees himself as a man on a mission, bound to win through. It is not coincidence, I think, that he has on many occasions stated proudly that he grew up on a diet of Westerns.

Similarly, President General (retd) Musharraf lives in his own Pak-fauj hyper reality where it is his job, and his alone, to weave through enemy lines and drive back the shadows looming over Pakistan. In his role of Indiana Jones chasing the Shiv linga, his hyper reality is fed by all the romantic heroism surrounding the protectors of the nation.

That’s how far, and how surreptitiously, the media can alter reality.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, the logic of hyper reality being applied to reality can also be seen to play a part in the growing incidence of broken relationships and divorce around the world. People who are in their 20s and 30s today have grown up on a steady diet of romantic fiction and narrative that end on the “they lived happily ever after” note. True, Cinderella, Snow White and the like have been being read or told to children for centuries. But only in the modern age have they been supported by film and television. A happy ending is an essential ingredient of the feel-good genre.

So, I would argue that many of us are subconsciously indoctrinated with the idea that once we’ve found a suitable partner, all that remains is to walk hand in hand into the sunset. This is a false reality, of course. As any older person anywhere is the world will tell you, that is when the story starts. None of us are consciously unrealistic enough to expect roses all the way. But when things are less than perfect — as they are bound to be in real life — the resentful little voice at the back of the mind saying “where’s my happy ending?” is the beguiling susurration of the media.

Such arguments can never be empirically proved (or negated) for they cannot be carried out as controlled experiments. However, I think that there is enough observational evidence to indicate that the media have the power to create alternate realities.

Post-script: President Bush’s manner of delivering speeches is hauntingly reminiscent of Bill Pullman playing the American president in ‘Independence Day’, though the latter is far more convincing in his “We will not vanish without a fight” speech. The difference is that the film’s screenwriters and actors had to convince the audience to watch their film. President Bush, on the other hand, enjoys a captive audience.

— hmumtaz@dawn.com

Their grief defies description, but will lessons be learnt?

FOR the parents of Syed Hamza, life will never be the same again.

The grief of losing a child to what is manifestly, a cruel twist of fate, is incomparable. The 11-year-old Hamza died on Tuesday afternoon after he was knocked down by a speeding wagon outside the Islamabad Convent School in Sector F-8.

He appeared in an exam at the school earlier in the day and left for home. But upon reaching there, the student recalled he had left his jacket behind on the premises and made a return trip to fetch it. It was the last time his parents would see him alive although it is unclear if they actually had even this fleeting glimpse.

For the rest of their lives, they will mourn how a small journey to retrieve a flippant piece of clothing would extinguish the flame that was supposed to have warmed their lives.

Hamza got down from his car and as soon as he rushed to cross the road, he was hit by a speeding wagon. The victim was rushed to Pakistan Institute of Medical Sciences (PIMS) but died of injuries. A pall of gloom descended over the school, where teachers and students broke down in despair.

Should the tragedy be put down to fate — a case perhaps, of Murphy’s Law — or a combination of mitigating factors?

It is important to delve into the accident of life that, no parent should have to cope with, dread as many of them will have come to — alas, only after the episode!

To begin with, the road leading up to the school gate and beyond is virtually in a state of logjam. There is simply no direction as parents or drivers make an often desperate attempt to first wade their way in, and then, out after picking up students when time is called.

While many a road in the capital — even residential lanes — are swarming with speed-breakers, amazingly there is none on the road outside the Convent, which could force motorists to mind their speed and draw some value for precious lives.

But what does one say of the failure to employ traffic police to man what is a very busy area, at least at school opening and closing times, with considerably unruly state of affairs on the road outside? At the time of the tragic accident that took Hamza’s life, there was no personnel from the Islamabad Traffic Police to regulate the flow.

If the city’s traffic management fails to assume responsibility even after this profound tragedy, it would be in the fitness of things for a prestigious and financially well- placed institute like the Islamabad Convent School to take charge, put in place some responsible personnel and see out the rush hour. That’s the least it can and should do.

But even before the school management contemplates any such move, there is no doubt in my mind that it should begin to emphasise road safety among the students with clearly spelt out steps that help achieve that end. In fact, it is something that all schools will do well to replicate. Perhaps, it can take the form of a mandatory school lesson just to inculcate its absolute need — for all times to come.

Our hearts go out to the parents of Hamza even if we can never really begin to comprehend the magnitude of the sheer grief and loss. May Allah Almighty rest their son’s soul in peace and give them the patience to cope with life’s wanton cruelty.

Earlier this year, a still more disturbing incident took place when an 8th grader at one of the city’s high profile schools committed suicide after poor handling of an episode involving misconduct on the part of the student.

Reportedly, after a teacher was tipped off about the student watching a graphic picture on the Internet in the school lab, he was sent by the concerned teacher to the headmistress, who immediately asked to see the student’s father.

Afraid of the reaction at home and probably, out of shame, the student tearfully sought forgiveness for the ‘offence’ but begged the headmistress not to inform his father. In desperation, he even threw himself at her feet. Unmoved, she insisted she would call his father. As a consequence, later that day, the student committed suicide by hanging himself from a ceiling fan. Nothing could have been more traumatic for the boy’s family.

Perhaps, the headmistress could have shown a little more sensitivity and if at all, she felt forgiveness was not enough and the ‘offence’ demanded greater punishment, she could have resorted to some other form of reprimand.

It does not require Einstein’s genius to understand that children at the age of the student-in-question can be quite sensitive. Failure to grasp that essential has left a lifetime of agony for the unfortunate parents and even the headmistress, who will be haunted by her mistake — let’s give her the benefit of the doubt (something she didn’t allow the student) and assume it was a mistake — that led the student into taking his own life.

Needless to say, both the teachers (and by extension, the school management) and parents need to be a little more alive to the wellbeing of students/children. In the latter case, had they been discharging their responsibilities with a little more understanding, there might have been just a little less pain in the world.

The writer is News Editor at Dawn News TV. He may be contacted at kaamyabi@gmail.com

Champions Trophy debacle — a case of love, labour lost

Pakistan’s horrendous drubbing at the recently-concluded Champions Trophy in Kuala Lumpur has once again exposed the ill-planning of hockey administrators who still seem to be taking a shot in the dark.

If one takes a cursory glance at the performance of the national side, the results are ample proof that Pakistan have not been able to shrug off its tendency of buckling under pressure whenever they are in a tight spot, specially in the crucial games.

The tournament got off to an expected start for Salman Akbar’s men when the Germans outplayed Pakistan 5-2 in a lop-sided affair. The former world champions then bounced back to score an upset 2-0 victory over Spaniards but that, unfortunately, remained their solitary success in the league phase of the event and proved a flash in the pan.

Olympic champions Australia then edged past Pakistan 2-1 followed by a 2-2 draw against lowly-ranked hosts, Malaysia.

Then came the shocker. The very same outfit that had upset Spain was thrashed 4-1 by underdogs Great Britain and all but dashed their chances of making it to the semis.

The Asian giants barely managed a 3-3 draw with South Korea before being whipped 4-1 by the Netherlands. And then, in a face-saving effort that always comes too late, Pakistan eventually edged past Malaysia 3-2 to settle a poor seventh among the eight participants.

The victory against the Malaysians might have “salvaged pride” for some but embarrassed many as it failed to prevent Pakistan being eliminated from the next Champions Trophy.

The performance was no surprise to hockey aficionados and followers of the game although makeshift manager-cum-chief coach Khawaja Zakauddin was anticipating a semi-final berth on the eve of the high-profile event.

The team was bound to fare pathetically after the unprofessional approach adopted by the Pakistan Hockey Federation (PHF) hierarchy in recent times. The so-called experts and federation officials endlessely argue that the spiral downfall is owing to talent fast drying up in the region. But if that’s the case, then how come India is making waves in hockey?

One feels that if the PHF wishes to take definite remedial measures, it first needs to be realistic and not just “optimistic” as it has always posed to be for the past so many years. The truth is that only a professional approach, unflappable commitment and the will and sincerity for improvement is needed to revive the game.

The major fault, in fact, lies with the hockey administration which lacks sincerity and purpose. The lack of resources or talent, one feels, are mere excuses.

Instead of any gradual improvement in the game’s graph, things have been getting from bad to worse since the current set of officials took over in April earlier this year.

The quandary that the PHF is in is that it doesn’t really know whether to adhere to the much trumpeted “re-building process” or to grab an instant and miraculous victory by bringing back the veterans into a game that’s dying a slow death due to lack of merit.

Injured Islahuddin Siddiqui, who was replaced by chief selector Zakauddin for the Champions Trophy, has been harping upon the “re-building process” since his appointment as Pakistan’s first-ever paid manager-cum-coach but the rebuilding is nowhere in sight.

The chop-and-change policy by the selectors continues unabated and, though Islah has been very much a part of it, he has never raised any objections on any of the selections made. Equally to blame are Zakauddin and his fellow selectors who keep experimenting even at this late stage when the Beijing Olympics are just round the corner.

It’s fair enough if experimentation is done for the sake of promoting the game but if it is done to accommodate some favourites and to appease individuals, it certainly ruins the sport which is exactly the case.

There have been several examples of unjust selection of the players during the past nine months and a number of unknown players who never even played national level hockey for their departments have donned green shirts which is a symbol of pride.

For instance, Mohammad Amin never represented his Police department at the last National Championship and yet was accommodated in the team soon after the new set up took the reins.

Also, little-known Mohammad Arshad and Mohammad Afzal came out of the blue to wear Pakistan colours after getting selectors’ nod this year, while Inayatullah, who is a reserve centre-forward of the junior side, represented the seniors in Kuala Lumpur at the expense of juniors captain Haseem Khan, undoubtedly the best spearhead at the moment. Then Mohammad Zubair, who was described as a non-serious player by Islah sometime ago, was again re-called right under the nose of the manager-cum-coach.

The PHF committed its biggest blunder by recalling four of the five banned players — Sohail Abbas, Waseem Ahmad, Ghazanfar Ali and Dilawar Hussain. The group of five was banned by PHF president Zafarullah Jamali when they opted to play foreign leagues instead of joining camp for Asian Games in Doha last December.

The rebel clan has time and again ditched Pakistan hockey and, sadly, the same story was repeated in the recently held Champions Trophy camp. PHF ate humble pie when only two — Ghazanfar and Dilawar — reported for the camp while Sohail and Waseem snubbed the federation again by staying away, preferring to play league in the Netherlands to earn extra bucks.

However, Pakistan didn’t achieve success despite having Dilawar and Ghazanfar in their ranks.

Today, the PHF has the audacity to deny that the five were ever banned. Amid confusion that prevails in the ranks of hockey’s governing body, Khalid Mahmood, the secretary of PHF, gave an astonishing statement recently when he said he had no clue about Islah’s future. Khalid’s comments are, indeed, strange since Jamali had clearly stated that Zakauddin would be incharge of the team only for Champions Trophy and Islah would, hopefully, join after recovering from a toe fracture.

Such ambiguous statements, dirty politics, intrigues and lack of dedication mar Pakistan hockey. The key question confronting the PHF is still the same; what has Pakistan hockey achieved in all these months?

A piece of advice for the PHF officials is that instead of making tall claims of raising a competent outfit for the Beijing Olympics, they should rather aim for building up a strong unit for the 2012 Olympic Games, a move that will have brighter chances of bearing fruit.