Dimensions of Drug Control

Drug control policy is often directed by its political dimension. Since governments aim to stay in power by keeping their mandate, appealing to public concerns about drugs is a seemingly logical move. However, the public may not be informed about drugs, their effects and their correlation to crime. As such, if public opinion is based on prejudices and bad information, such prejudice and misinformation gets codified into drug control policy.

By the same token, the symbolic dimensions of drug control policy and its related effects need to be taken into account. What a given drug control policy or program symbolises in the collective mind of the public is an important consideration. After all, if there is not public support - or worse, if there is public disapproval - the actual effectiveness of an approach to drug control is void. This essay aims, then, to investigate and discuss the extent to which the political and symbolic components of approaches to drug control policy and programs have an effect and how these might be manipulated to the ends of different parties. Some modest suggestions are made for how drug control policies with a harm minimization approach might be able to use the political and symbolic dimensions in different ways to appeal to the public in getting groundswells of support for more radical programs.

As Keenan (2004: 74) notes, people's understandings and beliefs about drug use are socially constructed. As such, they are subject to change as the years go by and society shifts. The public relays information to the powerful and the powerful try and reflect this in their decisions. Indeed, it might be compared to a feedback loop between the political, policy-making/program-directing bodies and the public; its 'customers', if you will. Somewhere along the way, however, advantage can be taken of this precarious interaction by appealing to populist prejudices and fears. It is in this space, then, that this discussion is concerned: the political and symbolic dimensions of policy and practice regarding drug control.

Attitudes towards drugs, and thus the policies that control them, have always been subject to the social and political mores of the day. Drug usage as an issue of public merit and salience did not come about until the late 1960s, when usage - and importantly, public awareness of usage - increased (Brereton, 2000: 91). Historically, then, approaches to the issue of drugs in society has always been subject to the winds of social and political change. This makes sense, of course, since politicians are supposed to respond to their mandate and reflect the values of their constituencies, but as Rouse and Johnson (1991: 210) note, "policymakers and citizens must become aware of how their personal moral standards affect political life and policy choices". Discussions about the political and symbolic implications of such policy should at the very least inspire some sort of reflexivity in the key stakeholders and players in the drug control arena.
There is evidence to suggest that drug control policy has little or no actual effect on drug use and related behaviours. In a study that compared Amsterdam, having a de facto decriminalization approach, with San Francisco, which has a punishment-based prohibitive model, it was found that despite differing drug policies both cities had remarkably similar rates of drug usage duration and cessation (Reinarman et al, 2004: 840). It was concluded that "if drug policies are a potent influence on user behaviour, there should not be such strong similarities across such different drug control regimes" (ibid: 840-841).

Rather than formal drug policies having an effect, Reinarman et al suggest that what is more likely to affect drug behaviours are informal social controls. That is, usage is structured according to 'subcultural etiquette', rather than to laws and policies (ibid: 841). If this is the case and formal drug policy's actual effects are in fact somewhat negligible, the question must be asked: what role does drug policy have at the political and symbolic level? After all, if drug policy is irrelevant, its total function might be in the realm of the political and symbolic.
Drug trafficking is an illegitimate market. As such, eradicating these avenues of trade is important to legitimate the economic order. Symbolically, the free-enterprise capitalist system can be seen as being undermined by the very presence of the drug trade. Thus, while border control and other means of combating the illegal drug trade may never actually completely dispose of these markets, it is important at the political level that a government is seen to be doing something, so that faith may be restored in the legitimate economic order: legitimacy must be protected.

It is perhaps for these reasons that recent international incidents involving Australians and the drug trade have been the focus of so much media saturation. That these stories get covered and splashed across the front pages is, at the subtextual level, a message to Australians that drugs are bad, and that getting involved with them can only end one way: death, either by abuse or by capital punishment. In order to legitimise the idea that Australia must be perceived as 'tough on drugs’, the Australian government's official response to cases such as Shapelle Corby, Van Nguyen and the Bali Nine has been reflective of its approach to the drug control issue.
The symbolic and political dimensions are related to the extent that agents of the political can influence public perception, and thus the symbolic element. For example, an influential politician spouting rhetoric about her opponents being 'soft on drugs' and being ineffectual as leaders in drug policy has the potential to affect the perceptions of that politician or party in general approach. Thus, it can be seen as important to make sure a message that will appeal to the public - the voters - is espoused. This, however, does not mean changing a policy to suit public opinion. To the contrary, all it may mean is clever marketing campaigns which reframe the situation and redefine what it means to in fact be 'soft' or 'tough' on drugs and crime.
Such tactics will have to be modified from one community to the next as contextual and demographical differences come to the fore. As Graycar et al note in relation to prohibitionist measures, "the tactics must fit the community, the location and the market; there is no one approach which suits all" (1999: 6). The very fact of these differing approaches can be seen to highlight the vastly constructed nature of drug control policy: after all, is it not the case that presentation (note: not necessarily content) of policy to be in tune with the mores and attitudes of a community is very much like that other typically amoral enterprise, advertising and marketing?

One of the arguments being presented here is that whatever the accuracy of relevant facts, certain information being presented (and the inverse, certain other information not being presented) carries with it political implications. For example, the US State Department cites cannabis production and consumption as a 'serious problem', noting that today's marijuana is "not the 'pot' of the 70s" (US Department of State, 2005: 5). Whether or not this is true, stating that the chemical compounds that make cannabis effective are now much stronger and, indeed, more dangerous and addictive (ibid), works in a political sense to attempt to sway those who might belong to a generation that did view cannabis as relatively harmless.

It can be suggested at this point that the aims of drug control policy-makers and program directors who would like to see a harm-minimisation angle in approaches to these issues should thus not be concerned with changing their methods per se, but with changing the presentation and application of such methods. Using marketing and public education tools to cultivate a gradual but sure sea change in attitudes and perceptions of various drug control approaches is one approach. However, it should be noted that since there is no academic consensus on what a 'better' policy or program is - and indeed the drug control issue is a polarising one - these methods could be seen as a covert and somewhat dishonest application of political and symbolic resources.

The political and symbolic dimensions of drug control policy can be manipulated in various ways, to differing ends. In this sense, individuals and bodies can promote their various drug control policy and program strategies using methods used in marketing, advertising, public relations and so on. A drug control policy or program's actual effectiveness in terms of its stated aims may be irrelevant if the program appears like it is being somehow soft or easy on drug users. One example of this is the continued opposition to needle-syringe exchange programs despite most evidence supporting the contention that they reduce "HIV transmission and risk behaviours and do not lead to increased drug use" (Villarreal and Fogg, 2006: 59). Thus, it must be asked: do the actual quantitative effects of drug control policy matter if the general public feels satisfied? And, alternately, if drug control policies are effective but politically/symbolically unattractive, might they be disregarded or abandoned?

Indeed, public perception may be entirely out of synch with the facts of the matter. Evidence from Portugal, where drugs are effectively decriminalised, suggests that under a non-prohibitive drug control regime, drug use is infrequent and of low intensity (Cohen, 1998: 4). This approach, however, may not garner public support in many countries, especially the United States.
Additionally, programs that have public support, for whatever reason, may in fact be counterproductive. For example, the Life Education drug education program run in primary schools - which purported to delay the onset on drug experimentation- in fact did not work in this regard (Hawthorne et al, 1995: 214). Indeed, Life Education evaluations found the program actually produced rather than reduced drug use in children (Wallace and Stagier, 1998: 169). However, despite such ineffectual approaches to the drug issue, the Life Education program was seen as a positive force, since it demonstrated that someone was doing something about the supposed drug 'problem'. Indeed, Life Education's legacy is that it was a "visible symbol that communities are prepared to tackle the drug issue through education" (Hawthorne et al, 1995: 214).

A similar example can be found in the Drug Abuse Resistance Education (DARE) program, which aimed to equip young people with the skills to say 'no' to drugs. There is limited evidence that DARE in fact made 'significant impacts on drug usage in the desired direction' (Wallace and Stagier, 1998: 169). However, the important point is that the DARE program has "high client satisfaction" (ibid: 168), meaning that the program connected with people and was symbolically resonant.

For these reasons, one suggestion that might combat misperceptions and misunderstandings about drugs and drug control is some kind of public education campaign about the apparent dangers of programs such as these.

However, it might be counter-argued that such education campaigns have already been undertaken and that these campaigns themselves are purveyors of misinformation. Indeed, as has been shown via this very Life Education/DARE programs example, some types of education may not yield the intended results, whatever they might be.

Nevertheless, there is something to be said for education of drug users themselves. For example, it has been found that as information about the risks of HIV becomes better known, in conjunction with encouragement and access to means of changing behaviour, risk behaviours amongst drug users declines (Wodak, 2005: 198). Educating drug users in terms of harm minimisation has the potential to yield some positive results for all of society.

Politically, debate about the benefits of harm minimisation approaches - rather than prohibitive and suppressive techniques and policies- is often absent from the conversation. Viewing official policy documents of a prohibitive approach to drug control, minimising harm seems to be an afterthought, if present at all. For example, while acknowledging that relapses are very common, the focus will still be on abstinence rather than a 'safe' level of drug use (Gowing etc al, 2001: 19).

Also absent from much debate around drug control are the hidden or censored narratives about why people take drugs. While much may be made of people either being constrained to take drugs because of external factors or self-control problems influencing risk-taking behaviour, little is said either academically or in the public sphere about drug use as it relates to a rational choice about 'feeling good'. What O'Malley and Mugford stated fifteen years ago still seems to hold: the "pleasure discourse remains underdeveloped" (1991: 51). What such discourses of 'pleasure' from drug use might conjure in the public sphere, symbolically, might be so controversial that the discussion would become bogged down in rhetoric.

It is not just the public's perception that is important in considerations of the political and symbolic dimensions of drug policy. Researchers and experts need to be able to sell programs and ideas to those who have the power to implement them. Thus, programs need to be presented in such a way that will appeal to politicians and policy makers. Certain decriminalization approaches could actually be sold to policy people on the basis that it is in fact much 'tougher' than simply throwing offenders in gaol. For example, the Portuguese approach to decriminalization sees drug users as victims and thus also aims to promote abstinence (Allen et al, 2004: 1). Thus, care needs to be taken in making typologies about what one approach signifies politically. That is, decriminalisation isn't necessarily always about a liberal approach.

The situation in Portugal arose more out of pragmatic concern that the prohibitive approach was not working and a new way was needed to combat the drug scourge and the crime related to it.
The relationship between drugs and crime is a hotly contested one. In a study of police detainees, thirty seven percent of those interviewed attributed at least some of their offending behaviour to illicit drugs (Schulte et al, 2005: 3). Similarly, a study of incarcerated male offenders found that more than half attributed their behaviour to drugs and alcohol (Makkai and Payne, 2003: xvi). However, it is important to take a critical look at statistics such as this. After all, it is in the best interests of incarcerated people or those detained by police to be trying to mitigate responsibility for their offences. It only makes sense that some would exaggerate the extent to which they were or were not in control of themselves in a given situation. Additionally, co-operating with researchers may similarly have positive consequences for participants.
It may be politically advantageous for some powerful bodies to represent drug use in a light that emphasizes its connection to crime. Since many of the same bodies are in competition with each other, bidding for the same funding dollars, organisations will want to try to make their concerns seem more important. Whatever the actual correlation between drug use and crime, emphasizing that they are related is good for police in a political sense. It legitimates their actions in eradicating the drug trade and being hard on drug users. Indeed, police organizations themselves conflate crime with the drug issue because "criminal enterprises are intertwined" and "targeting drugs means hardening the approach to all crimes in general" (Nicholas, 2004: 9). This works to politically enhance the police's work.

Related to this local example of conflating drugs with all crime is the similar approach in the international context to link the drug trade with other transnational offences. For example, the United States Department of State has officially stated that the trafficking of illicit drugs is 'inextricably linked' with organized crime and terrorist organizations (U.S. Department of State, 2005: 1). Politically, making this connection between one type of deviance and others again legitimates any actions against drugs by having them 'really' being about terrorism. In this way, targeting the local drug dealer is seen as aiding in the fight for international terrorism.

Perhaps ironic in light of the 'tough on drugs' approaches to drug control as it relates to general crime control, which would include more punitive measures such as increased incarceration for drug offenders, is that much of the harm associated with illicit drug use is linked to such usage while incarcerated (Wodak, 2005: 197). This potentially sets up the proverbial vicious cycle where drugs are taken in prison then sought once prisoners are released, leading to drug offences, which throws them back into the prison system.

However, one should not be completely cynical about the nexus between drug-related crime and other, more 'serious' crimes. In Australia's past, certainly, there has been organized crime involvement with drugs. Indeed, it was the murder of anti-cannabis activist David Mackay in 1977 that has been said to have brought the drug issue into focus in the eye of the general public (Brereton, 2000: 92).

If one reason that drug use is proscribed against is because of its relationship to crime, another reason is that it is simply seen as inherently morally wrong. This line is taken up by James Q. Wilson, who believes that a cultural change needs to take place such that the 'moral climate' of society shifts to find drug use completely 'loathsome' (Wilson, 1990: 541). This view is based on the idea that a society that uses drugs is complacent and ineffective, eroding the good work done by our forebears. It is from ideological positions such as this that the public demonization of drug use (by politicians, popular media and families themselves) is encouraged. Indeed, "public officials can and should decry drug use and make clear the moral, as well as the practical, grounds for [drug use] being wrong" (ibid: 543).

It is interesting that prohibitive means of drug control have been viewed as 'tough' while decriminalization and/or harm minimisation approaches have been seen as 'soft' or at least as depicted as such. Despite Portugal having a public health/decriminalization approach to drug control, this does not necessarily imply it is a 'soft' approach. For example, although Portugal uses administrative penalties for drug offences rather than prohibitive punishments, such administrative penalties can be much harsher than the alternatives. Indeed, "decriminalisation can not always be seen as a less punitive approach to drug use"(Allen et al, 2004: 3).
One symbolic consideration in the marketing of harm minimisation-type programs is the perception of such approaches are 'weak' or 'soft', compared to the masculine imagery of being 'tough' on drugs and crime. When discussing the political dimension, it may then also be worth bringing up sexual politics. The brute force of a zero tolerance approach carries with it the notions of masculinity and combat: a 'war' on drugs and crime. It might even be suggested that continued public support for zero-tolerance crime control approaches despite dubious effectiveness, especially in the United States, is linked to this perception of it as masculine. Indeed, the US has continually shunned harm-reduction measures in favour of zero-tolerance, despite apparently "incontrovertible evidence" of the former's effectiveness (Wodak, 2005: 200). This is attributable in part to the marketing of such measures as being 'tough'.
Such marketing does not only apply to illicit drug control but also to how drugs - both licit and illicit - are represented in the media. For example, depictions and perceptions of beer as a 'masculine' beverage. Also, depending on who is doing the representing, marijuana as a harmless recreational drug or, more prominently in most popular media, as a zombie-creating drug for losers. An interesting example is that of the illicit inhalants used in chroming practices which are not in fact illegal. Calls for inhalants to be made illegal have to do with wanting a symbolic point made about the acceptability of drug use. Opposition to this is from a moral standpoint, not a legal one; though making it formally illegal would make legitimate the moralistic view.

As has been shown, the efficacy of any information presented by policy or program bodies about drug use and control is not necessarily related to its truth-value. In a recent paper, Moore and Fraser 2006: 3045) note that on the one hand, harm minimization approaches assume a neo-liberal or rational-actor model of behaviour that may not actually apply to drug users, since there are constraints on drug users that may render them unable to make informed choices. However, using this lens of seeing drug users as decision-making neo-liberals actually affords them some of the respect associated with such rationality (ibid). Thus, despite there being a degree of contestation around whether drug users are constrained by drugs/economics/genetics etc. or in fact make rational choices about drug behaviour, one political function of the rational-actor model is to afford drug users a degree of agency.

This brings up a point about how drug use can be constructed as being a rational choice on the one hand, and being an addictive, victim-creating behaviour on the other. The idea of drug users becoming addicted and thus needing some sort of treatment comes from an ideological standpoint that favours painting drug users as victims of their own lack of self-control or inherent predisposition to over-consumption and so on. Stanton Peele takes a rather extreme view of drug 'treatments' and the concept of 'addiction' especially. Importantly, he conceives of addiction not as a physical, scientific category of dependence on drugs, but rather something that is "better understood as a cultural phenomenon that fulfills functional and symbolic needs" (Peele, 1990: 2). For Peele, drug use has "always been morally tinged" just as all scientific theorising about such things has been "heavily influenced by politics and social conceptions" (ibid: 8). However, as the discussion undertaken here should demonstrate, cultural constructions are not necessarily any less 'real' than a scientific conception. The ways they can affect and change society and its outlook should not be underestimated.

Just like a celebrity might donate to charity in order to appear globally aware and concerned, so too can good things be done about drug control policy when the aims themselves are based in issues of public perception. The challenge may be to strike a balance between appealing to extant public concerns while at the same time forging ahead with programs that might educate the public about these issues. Of course, there is not necessarily only one political or symbolic subtext or function to a given approach to drug control. Indeed, much of what these dimensions of drug policy infer to an individual will be to some extent based around individual factors of family background, upbringing, education and so on. Further studies into this area should take careful notice of this.

It should also be noted that when speaking of the political and symbolic dimensions of drug control policy and the like, it is not necessarily conscious decisions or scheming policy makers that make these dimensions relevant. Indeed, much of it comes from a cultural unconscious or at least from embedded attitudes and notions of 'right' and 'wrong'.

A deeper understanding of how political and symbolic forces shape public attitudes, perceptions and sympathies regarding drug use might equip those in the political/public policy and/or drug treatment areas with tools to off-set potential negative effects of their well-intended actions. Even simply having a certain reflexivity in approaches to drug control might lead to smarter decisions in presentation and application of drug control, especially with regard to what information becomes widely publicly known and what is kept more covert. After all, there may be some effective programs that can be argued are 'good' for society in the harm-minimisation and civil liberties senses, but do not find favour in the public-relations arena.

By way of a conclusion, the one suggestion that can be made here based on the discussion undertaken is that considerations of the political and symbolic dimensions be taken into account by policy makers, program directors and even drug users themselves. Despite living in a society supposedly dedicated to the pursuit of facts and the scientific method, considerations of the more social elements of drug control policy have a part to play.







Daniel Hedger
189 245

References

Allen, L, Trace, M and Klein, A (2004),"Decriminalisation of drugs in Portugal: a current overview" A DrugScope briefing paper for the Beckley Foundation Drug Policy Programme, no. 6.
http://www.internationaldrugpolicy.net/reports/BeckleyFoundation_BriefingPaper_06.pdf

Brereton, D. (2000) The History and Politics of Prohibition, in G.Stokes, P. Chalk and K. Gillen (eds) Drugs and Democracy: In Search of New Directions, Carlton South, Victoria: University of Melbourne Press

Cohen, P. (1998) Shifting the main purposes of drug control: from suppression to regulation of use. Reduction of risks as the new focus for drug policy, a paper presented at the Euro-Ibero-American Seminar, Porto, Portugal, October 1998.

Gowing, L. Proudfoot, H., Henry-Edwards, S. and Teesson, M. (2001) Evidence supporting treatment: the effectiveness of interventions for illicit drug use, Canberra: Australia National Council on Drugs.

Graycar, A., Nelson, D. and Palmer, M. (1999) "Trends & Issues in Crime and Criminal Justice. No. 110: Law enforcement and illicit drug control". Canberra: Australian Institute of Criminology. http://www.aic.gov.au/publications/tandi/tandi110.html

Hawthorne, G., Garrad, J. and Dunt, D. (1995) Does Life Education's Drug Education Programme Have A Public Health Benefit? Addiction, 90: 205-215

Keenan, M. (2004) The Social Context of Drug Use. In M. Hamilton, A. Kellehear and G. Rumbold (eds) (2nd ed) Drug Use in Australia: A Harm Minimisation Approach, Melbourne: Oxford University Press.

Makkai, T. and Payne, J. (2003) "Research and Public Policy Series No. 52: Drugs and crime : a study of incarcerated male offenders" Canberra: Australian Institute of Criminology. http://www.aic.gov.au/publications/rpp/52/

Moore. D. and Fraser, S. (2006). "Putting at risk what we know: Reflecting on the drug-using subject in harm reduction and its political implications"Social Science & Medicine, Vol. 62, No.12 June.

Nicholas, R. (2004) "The Impact of General Law Enforcement on the Illicit Drug Market". Presented at the 3rd Australiasian Drug Strategy Conference, 2004.

O'Malley, P. and Mugford, S. (1991) The Demand for Intoxicating Commodities: Implications for the "War on Drugs", Social Justice, 18:49-75

Peele, S. (1990) "Addiction as a Cultural Concept", Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences, 602: 205-220. http://www.peele.net/lib/cultconc.html

Reinarman, C. Cohen, P. and Kaal, H. (2004). "The Limited Relevance of Drug Policy: Cannabis in Amsterdam and in San Francisco" American Journal of Public Health, May 2004; 94: 836 - 842.

Rouse, J. and Johnson, B. (1991) Hidden Paradigms of Morality in Debates About Drugs: Historical and Policy Shifts in British and American Drug Policies, in J. Inciardi (ed.). The Drug Legalization Debate California.: Sage.

Schulte, C., Mouzos, J and Makkai, T. (2005) "Research and public policy series No. 65: Drug Use Monitoring in Australia : 2004 annual report on drug use among police detainees". Canberra: Australian Institute of Criminology
http://www.aic.gov.au/publications/rpp/65/index.html

U.S. Department of State (2005) International Narcotics Control Strategy Report, Policy and Program Developments
http://www.state.gov/g/inl/rls/nrcrpt/2005/vol1/html/42360.htm

Villarreal, H., and Fogg, C. (2006). "Syringe-Exchange Programs and HIV Prevention: If they're effective, what's the controversy?" American Journal of Nursing. 106(5):58-63, May 2006.

Wallace, S. and Stagier, P. (1998) "Informing Consent: Should 'providers' inform 'purchasers' about the risks of drug education?" Health Promotion International, 13, 167-171

Wodak, A. (2005) "Drugs, Crime and Crime Reduction" in D. Chappell and P.Wilson (eds) Issues in Australian Crime and Criminal Justice Chatswood, NSW: LexisNexis: Butterworths (197-219)

Zing!

"I'm feeling really creative...but I don't know how to express myself"






"You should write a poem, you're really unique and special"





"I don't know..."







"Come on, you can do it"







"Maybe..."







"Stop doubting yourself, you are so talented and creative. Just write a poem!"







"Ok, here goes....'Leaves are falling off the trees, and all I see is you...'"







"That sucks"









"..."

Zing!

"I love you"







"Love's not enough"








"I respect you"








"Respect's not enough"







"I need you"







"Need is not enough"







"You make me happy...I make you happy!"







"Happiness is not enough"








"...I guess I'd better leave, then"









"What, you don't love me anymore?"

Terrorism Through Film: Die Hard, Fight Club, Team America

I'm pretty sure I got an A for this one.

"
In terms of media representation, in recent times perhaps nothing has been more depicted, discussed and presented as terrorism. As such, media interpretations of such a complex and inexhaustible topic of interest have the potential to affect understandings of criminality and criminal justice. By focusing on three fictional films dealing with terrorist crime and criminal justice responses to it, this essay aims to discuss how such representations and conceptions might uphold or challenge dominant ideologies; affect perceptions of criminal justice systems and create avenues by which audiences can form opinions on the topics presented.

Morris notes that there has been a fetishistic privileging of images in the modern media (Morris, 2004: 403), meaning that images have replaced dialogue in terms of how people understand and perhaps even legitimise information. Indeed, Baudrillard has suggested that an image consumes the event it depicts, in the 'sense that it absorbs it and offers it for consumption' (Baudrillard, 2003: 27). Bearing this in mind, what can be gleaned from fictional representations of terrorism if images are so paramount? Terrorism may be, in the mind of an audience, made up of the different representations - images, primarily - that are presented by the media in its many forms. Newsmedia falls into this category, as does film.

The three films to be discussed are Die Hard (1988, dir John McTiernan); Fight Club (1999, dir David Fincher) and Team America: World Police (2004, dir Trey Parker). All three are fictional accounts of terrorist crime but each is significantly different, allowing different perspectives to be explored and constrasted. Further to this, there will be a general discussion of the possible effects of media representations - including newsmedia - of terrorism and the forms they make take.

Films work, at least to some extent, on the presupposition that audiences know how to consume movies. They are predicated on the ability of audiences to recognise the familiar formats and cinematic tropes each film is imbued with. Films are also full of ideological standings, but these are taken in as part of the whole visual and auditory - sometimes even visceral - film experience. Indeed, audiences come to films as if to 'hegemonic discourses' that are embodied in these regular formats to which they have become 'thoroughly accustomed' (Wilkins and Downing, 2002: 422). Films work with these discourses to represent their own versions of terrorist crime.



The first film to be considered in this discussion is John McTiernan's Die Hard (1988). Die Hard concerns New York City police officer John McClane (Bruce Willis), who makes his way to Los Angeles in order to spend Christmas with his children and his estranged wife Holly (Bonnie Bedelia). When McClane arrives at Holly's workplace - the sterling tower of the Nakatomi Corporation - for the company Christmas party, he obviously doesn't fit in with his wife's yuppie co-workers and retreats to the private en-suite of the one of the offices. Meanwhile international terrorists are infiltrating the building, in a carefully choreographed manner. The terrorists make themselves known to the guests, who are on the 30th floor, and take the company CEO, Mr. Takagi (James Shigeta), along with everyone else, hostage.

The terrorists, all European except for one American - the computer whiz with the job of breaking various codes - are led by the sophisticated, witty and arrogant German Hans Gruber (Alan Rickman). At first he parodies the stereotype of terrorists being idealistic activists who want social or political change, but it soon becomes clear that Gruber is actually after the $640 million worth of negotiable bearer bonds in the Nakatomi safe. However, the terrorists don't yet know there is an NYPD cop somewhere in the building.

When McClane obtains a radio walkie talkie after killing one of the terrorists, he manages to communicate with LAPD Sgt. Al Powell (Reginald VelJohnson) continuously. Powell is fighting his own battle against his idiot boss Chief Dwayne T. Robinson (Paul Gleason), who constantly hinders the operation. McClane tells Powell his situation and the two develop a friendship over the radio waves.

Over the course of the film, McClane uses his police smarts and cunning in an attempt to get the better of the terrorists. By using the terrorists' own weapons against them, McClane stages an effective resistance, until Gruber finds out that McClane's wife is one of the hostages. With Gruber threatening to kill her, McClane appears to surrender only to pull a dangerous stunt and save the day.

Die Hard's depiction of terrorists is both stereotyped and a parody of that stereotype. Hans Gruber pretends to be an idealistic terrorist, making phony demands to the police about wanting members of 'Asian Dawn' released from a prison in Sri Lanka. When questioned by a fellow terrorist Gruber replies, "I read about them in Time Magazine." What Gruber and his men want are bearer bonds: far from being anti-establishment, anti-capitalist political activists, they are only after money. Gruber is self-consciously aware of the popular idea of terrorists as being driven by ideology and uses that as a facade.

It is of note that Die Hard's terrorists are essentially all European and/or foreign in some way. This reinforces the idea that terrorism is from the outside, a polluting force that comes from an unknown place. In Die Hard, this notion of fear of the 'Other' extends to the Nakatomi Corporation itself, which is Japanese and highly technologically advanced. In contrast, hero McClane distrusts technology, is scared of air travel and winces at the computers he encounters. Technology has an arrogance, perhaps, and a mystique that comes from it being somehow foreign. Interesting, then, that the terrorist who is sent to hack - fight, almost - the foreign technology is an American. McClane similarly defeats the terrorists without recourse to technology: he uses old fashioned guns, explosives and cunning.

The formal justice systems in Die Hard are basically inept. Aside from McClane and Powell, neither the LAPD (stupid) nor the FBI (insane) can stop the terrorists. It is McClane's bravado, coupled with Powell's bravery and foresight that defeat the terrorists. The hero is quintessentially American and he defeats the foreign 'Other'. The notion being upheld here is one of individualism; in a way, it reminds of recent UK legislation that seeks to make young people active, responsible citizens and move away from the 'passivity of youth' (Vaughn, 2000: 348).



In David Fincher's Fight Club (1999), terrorism is expressed in a different way to that of Die Hard. Fight Club's story concerns the nameless Narrator (Edward Norton), a neurotic businessman who has become completely disaffected with his white-collar surroundings and suffers from terrible insomnia. In a bid to rid himself of the numbness he feels, he joins support groups for various diseases - notably among them testicular cancer - despite him not being sick. Attending these support groups cures his insomnia until another 'faker', Marla Singer (Helena Bonham Carter) joins.

Presently, the Narrator's apartment mysteriously blows up and he moves in with Tyler Durden (Brad Pitt), a soap salesman he has met on a plane. Durden is engimatic, charismatic and dispenses strange pieces of information, like how to make napalm, into casual conversation. Durden tells the Narrator that his possessions getting destroyed was the best thing that could happen. "The things you own end up owning you" he says. Together they start Fight Club, a place where young professional men pummel eachother for the experience of being hit, rather than hitting. Along with the fighting comes a nihilism and anti-establishmentism that emanates from Tyler's charisma.

Soon Fight Club becomes wildly popular and is transformed into 'Project Mayhem', an urban terrorist cell. Since terrorism is a subtype of human aggression (Victoroff, 2005: 35), Fight Club's violence and nihilism provides the framework for the terrorist Project Mayhem. At first Project Mayhem is about making large scale pranks as statements against society, but it soon escalates to a plan to destroy an entire city. Terrorism in Fight Club is a means to an end: Tyler desires a new order of society and his philosophy is read in the way same that an Islamic theological justification for terrorism is.

When the Narrator finds out that Project Mayhem has orders to harm Marla - who Tyler has been sleeping with, much to the Narrator's disgust - he tries to warn her, only for her to reveal to him that she believes he is Tyler. That is, Tyler is revealed to the audience to be the imaginary friend of the Narrator, created from his psyche.

The Narrator finally confronts his alter ego at the top of the only high rise building in the city not to be imminently demolished by a nefarious terrorist plan to reset society. The Narrator shoots himself in the face, leaving him perhaps mortally wounded but killing Tyler: terrorism, then, is a rogue element; a tumour to be eradicated. Marla shows up and the two watch the city begin to collapse, hand in hand.

Fight Club is separate from the other films discussed here in that it depicts the terrorist experience as happening at the level of the individual. Terrorism is presented as a sexy and masculine activity that will free the modern world of its shackles, returning it to a romanticised Eden-like state: Tyler says he dreams of swinging over the ashes of high rises buildings on overgrown vines. It also shows the terrorist group from an ethnographic perspective: the audience is with the terrorists throughout, not some outside 'good guy'. Indeed, even the cops are members of Fight Club/Project Mayhem and the lines between good guy and bad guy are blurred.

The formal justice systems are thus depicted in Fight Club as corrupt and contemptible, capable of being taken over be extremists. In a sense, there is a no hero, since the villian - Tyler - and the protagonist Narrator are revealed to be the same. This symbiosis perhaps suggests the dialectical relationship between terrorism and its opponents; and how a society may create its own deviant elements, rather than it being imported from elsewhere.

The political content of fictional films is often in rhyme with the dominant ideologies of the day. Just as Die Hard is a product of Reagan's 1980s, with its focus on the 'everyman' saving the day, Fight Club is symptomatic of the cynical 90s, with terrorism ultimately more fulfilling than white collar life. However, movies dealing with terrorist crime have the potential to influence public perceptions about such acts: the power of film is such that in the immediate aftermath of September 11, the Bush Administration sought Hollywood's help, with many US politicians hoping to see a 'convergence of foreign policy agendas and film content' (Pollard, 2002: 138).

This would amount to a contribution to what Pollard calls the 'Hollywood War Machine', where wartime exploits are glorified as heroic in studio films (Pollard, 2002: 121). Indeed, the production of movies - or even the marketing of them in the post-production process - is often done with political and social climates considered. For example, the films Black Hawk Down (2001, dir. Ridley Scott) and We Were Soldiers (2002, dir. Randall Wallace), having been produced just before September 11 and released soon after, have been described as 'mood music' for the nascent War on Terror (Carruthers, 2003: 168). Similarly, these depictions reassured the American public rather than alarmed them, evincing how media can work cathartically (ibid: 171).



This may also be the case with Trey Parker's Team America: World Police (2004), a feature film entirely made with a cast of marrionettes, which automatically places the film into the realm of abstraction, although it does raise many current issues. The movie's plot concerns an American squad of Thunderbirds-style anti-terrorism fighters who enlist the help of a Broadway actor - Gary - to infiltrate a terrorist cell, using his acting talents to thwart an attack in Cairo. When a terrorist attack in Central America - defined on screen as '2193 miles from the Real America', parodying the American-centric view it ultimately espouses - responds to the attack Gary loses faith in his acting abilities, only to rejoin Team America to stop North Korea's Kim Jong Il, who is funding terrorist groups around the world.

The terrorists in Team America are deliberately and undeniably of a stereotypical nature. They are the 'deranged fanatical Arabs harbouring an irrational hatred of America, the West, modernity, and civilisation' (Matthews, 2005: 220). However, Team America adds a new card to the deck by depicting an actual world leader - North Korea's Kim Jong Il - as a terrorist. Thus, state-sponsored terrorism emerges in popular fiction, perhaps as a reflection of current discourses regarding it. Kim Jong Il's motivation for supporting terrorism is simply that he is lonely; or, as he sings in one of the film's many musical numbers, 'so ronery' - marking him out as the definite Other, who cannot grasp English properly.

Media representations of the 'enemy' or the 'other' have the potential to drum up support for violent measures against them. For example, representations of Arab or Muslim people as 'inferior, threatening, immoral and dehistoricized' have been said to have played a part in gaining public support for the first Gulf War (Muscati, 2002: 131). Similarly, representations of 'Other' peoples as being exemplars of an inferior culture or civilization can inspire not just aggression but also a paternalistic response, where Western 'humanitarian' instincts emerge in an attempt to save 'them' from 'themselves' (Cloud, 2004: 286). Team America acts in this regard, policing the world to save it from itself.

What, then, does this suggest about the depictions in Team America of 'Middle Eastern' culture? While fun is poked at racial profiling - rookie Gary has a matty beard haphazardly applied to his porcelin face which, to the Team Americans, signifies Middle Eastern - the depictions of Arabs in Team America tend to conflate the terrorists with all Arab/Muslim people. Once again, then, there is the notion of terrorism as being an outside force; the external; the Other.

Team America's seeming conflation of Islam, terrorism and the 'Middle East' could be seen as dangerous. 'Us and them' rhetoric, despite its intent to define terrorists as separate from everybody else, may 'invariably be used by many to defame a whole cultural entity or entities' (Martin and Phelan, 2002: 268). Films that use such rhetoric, then, are perhaps handling a volatile means of representation.

The formal justice systems, as they exist in Team America, are heroic. Team America members are police officers and they basically do good, even if they mess up sometimes (and indeed, they are thwarted by meddling celebrities, not inept governments or justice bodies). Team America embodies the very spirit of America: their head-quarters are located inside Mount Rushmore, the design of their weapons, vehicles and uniforms are based on the American-flag motif. They have Good on their side in a fight against Evil and being quintessentially American (which may stand in for 'the West' in general) displays this.

Central to the discussion is the notion of the us/them or internal/external dichotomies at play in all three movies. Such dichotomies are not invented by the texts, however; rather, they are inherited from a Western cultural tradition and replicated in the media (Matthews, 2005: 219). Movies use familiar tropes and forms to bring up issues, whether it is intended, explicit or otherwise. For example, patriarchy has been cited as the 'ruling ideology' that legitimates events such as violent terrorist acts as well as the violent responses to it (Rasmusson, 2005: 141), which would imply that fictional representations of terrorism carry with them the burden of patriarchy. This can be seen in Fight Club and Die Hard: both depict terrorism - and the fight against it - to be a male domain. However, while Team America's terrorists are all male, the heroes are of both genders.

In any case, the main focus here is the terrorist as 'other'. Consider that although both Die Hard and Team America depict terrorists in contrasting ways (cunning and intelligent versus cariacture), both films have representations of terrorists as distinctly foreign. Terrorism, then, becomes defined as an invading force coming from without; terrorism exists outside 'our' Western industrialised society and its attacks are necessarily from such a position, both spatially and ideologically.

This idea of terrorism coming from outside, however, has its most significant problem in Fight Club, where the terrorist group is made up of men explicitly from within the society that it wishes to attack. That is, they are 'homegrown' terrorists in the sense that they are not of foreign backgrounds that carry with them vastly different sets of values. In Fight Club, the values the terrorists have come to know by virtue of having lived in such a modern Western society have been rejected, in favour of a new, nihilistic philosophy. As a contrast, Die Hard's terrorists believe in the Western value of accumulating wealth, and use terorism as a means to that end.

However, there is a way to reconnect Fight Club's complex marking of the self/other distinction to Die Hard and Team America's terrorists as explicitly 'Other'. Fight Club's terrorist leader, Tyler Durden, is revealed to be an imaginary alter ego that the Narrator has created out the 'thoughts and desires that he cannot integrate within himself' (Palladino and Young, 2003: 204). Thus, in a sense, Tyler is the Other and his terrorism serves as a foreign agent's (to the Narrator's mind) deviance.

Just as Fight Club subverts understandings of the internal/external dichotomy as it relates to terrorism, the events of September 11, with its 'sleeper' terrorists, have forced a reassessment of what constitutes internal and external. Indeed, 'the enemy is no longer a spatially removed “other,” but one that subverts such an understanding' (Palladino and Young, 2003: 214). Perhaps Fight Club, then, is a film that would not have been allowed to be made in the post-9/11 world, such is its complex depiction of terrorism.

Similarly, some images are believed to be too 'psychologically disturbing to the general public' (Brottman, 2004: 167) to be shown, given a particular world climate. Both Die Hard and Fight Club involve terrorists exploding tall buildings which, in the post 9/11 world, might have seemed inappropriate. However, Team America - undeniably a product of the post 9/11 world - shows puppet terrorists (and puppet heroes) blowing up various landmarks: the Eiffel tower, the Sphinx, Mount Rushmore. Perhaps its level of abstraction and its claim to satire makes these representations more acceptable.

Film often calls attention to itself as a constucted medium of juxapositions and interpretations. In both Fight Club and Team America, attention is called to the abstract nature of the experience: Fight Club's narrative is told in flasback by voice over and comment is made on the flashback (when the film returns from the flashback, the Narrator makes a joke and Tyler replies "Flashback humour. I get it"). Team America is made up of puppets manipulated by some unseen architect, subtextually implying a divine power, but cinematically defining the chartacters as not being part of the real world.

Some note should also be made of the fact that in 21st century terrorists are prone to making videos themselves. Indeed, non-state terrorists are quite interested in media exposure (Ben-Yehuda, 2005: 44). It is not trivial to suggest that the form these videos take has been influenced by the same kinds of representations discussed here: Western media, like film and television. Thus, terrorists are not only depicted in films, but depict themselves in films of their own making. They may know the filmic shorthand and Hollywood tropes to convey certain pieces of information, hence the righteous egomaniacal speeches read out by terrorists on home made video. Hans Gruber, then, becomes a lens through which audiences may view terrorists: theatrical, intelligent and, above all, foreign.

Note, too, the way the newsmedia represents Osama Bin Laden as being a leader of a finite group called al Qaeda, who has 'deputies' and cells that operate in much the same way as action movie villians' groups do. Indeed, in all three films discussed here, the charismatic terrorist leader has considerable control over his group, in agreeance with the theory that leaders of terrorist cells are of a greater cognitive capacity than followers (Victoroff, 2005: 35).

Terrorism's victory is that it can claim all violence as its own, such is its mysery. Baudrillard suggests that Bin Laden 'might even claim natural disasters as his own' (Baudrillard, 2003: 33). Fight Club's terrorist cell is based on a mysterious and secret arrangement of many members of society: Project Mayhem demonstrates that society is made up of individuals, some in very menial jobs, and prosperity - read:society- rests on them (Palladino and Young, 2003: 213). Any violence, then, could be attributed to terrorism, if a terrorist group is seen as pervasive.

Of course, films about terrorism have been inspired and influenced by real terrorist events, but it is perhaps just as valid a suggestion that fictional accounts of terrorism in movies have influenced not only news media depictions of terrorism but also of terrorist attacks themselves: buildings crumbling in films replicated in the real world, yielding similiar panic and horror.

Indeed, terrrorists can utilise the media as another weapon at their disposal; they aim to be portrayed in a sympathetic light and draw attention to their actions (Ben-Yehuda, 2005: 36). The media can become part of the terroristic act, as 'part of the terror' (Baudrillard, 2003: 30). It is for such reasons that some commentators have suggested that the media take a careful look at its impact on audiences and portray terrorists as weak, cowardly, disorganized and psychopathic killers (Pech and Slade, 2005: 59). This would deny terrorists the ' "dignity" of coverage' and thus may strip the terrrorists of some of their power (ibid: 58). Extending this to film, the depictions of Hans Gruber and Tyler Durden do not emasculate or demonize them, whereas the Team America terrorists are depicted as foolish and psychopathic. In a world apparently changed by terrorism post-September 11, depictions of likable terrorist characters have perhaps ceased to be acceptable.

However, despite the potential for unhealthy or dangerous depictions of terrorist crime in the media, representing such things also has the ability to act in a different way and provide a kind of catharsis. In times of social instability, for example, people often turn to the media in the hope that it might provide them with 'frameworks for understanding, acting or escaping' the situation (McNee, 2002: 282). Indeed, McNee argues that the fictional media can have as important a part as the newsmedia in opening up arenas for discussion and airing pertinent questions (ibid: 286). In the case of Team America, perhaps the crude humour and simplicity mark out a desire in audiences to laugh at the state of the world.

Oliverio suggests that the media are at the 'heart of the production of history' (Oliverio, 1998: 8) and that violence labelled terrorism 'provides the dramatic script' (ibid). As such, media representations of events such as terrorist crimes have a complex and important part to play in affecting an audience and partly shaping their experience of and responses to terrorism. If, as Tom Pollard suggests, war movies represent 'barometers of patriotic sentiment' (Pollard, 2002: 138), films that deal primarily with terrorist crimes might serve a similar function: In the global war on terror, films that deal with terrorism are reassuring and cocksure in the face of adversity.

If depictions of terrorism have the ability to construct or influence audience's perceptions of such acts, there is perhaps a responsibility in the hands of film-makers for terrorism to be presented with caution. Suggestions of portraying terrorists in a very bad light (Pech and Slade, 2005: 58) or as so 'beyond the pale' as to not warrant being understood (Dershowitz, 2002: 29) illustrate this. However, despite potential for insensitive and dangerous depictions there is also a cathartic element to terrorism in fictional film:, by airing out issues without attempts at easy solutions. Media depictions will not be interpreted in the same way by every audience and as such, each depiction becomes valid on its own terms. Die Hard, Fight Club and Team America: World Police each represent terrorism in varying ways, encouraging audiences to interpret the discourses and depictions themselves, in their own ways.





References

Baudrillard, J. (2003) The Spirit of Terrorism and other essays. Verso. London and New York.

Ben-Yehuda, N. (2005). "Terror, Media, and Moral Boundaries". International Journal of Comparative Sociology, No. 46. April.

Brottman, M. (2004) 'The Fascination of the abomination: the censored images of 9/11' in M. Dixon (ed) Film and Television After 9/11, Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press.

Carruthers, S.L. (2003). "Bringing it all back home: Hollywood returns to war". Small Wars and Insurgencies. Vol. 14. No. 1. March. Routledge.

Cloud, D.L. (2004) "'To veil the threat of terror': Afghan women and the in the imagery of the U.S. war on terrorism". Quarterly Journal of Speech. Vol.90. No. 3. August. Routledge.

Dershowitz, A.M. (2002). Why Terrorism Works: understanding the threat, responding to the challenge. Yale University Press. USA

Martin, P. and Phelan, S. (2002). "Representing Islam in the Wake of September 11: A Comparison of US Television and CNN Online Messageboard Discourses"
Prometheus. Vol. 20. No. 3. September. Routledge.

Matthews, J. (2005). " Visual Culture and Critical Pedagogy in 'Terrorist Times' ". Discourse. Vol. 26. No. 2. June. Routledge.

McNee, F. (2002). "Something's Happened: Fictional Media as a Coping Mechanism". Prometheus. Vol. 20. No. 3. September. Routledge.

Muscati, S. A. (2002). "Arab/Muslim 'Otherness': The Role of Racial Constructions in the Gulf War and the Continuing Crisis with Iraq". Journal of Muslim Minority Affairs. Vol. 22. No. 1. April. Routledge.

Morris, R.C. (2004). "Images of Untranslatability in the US War on Terror". Interventions: International Journal of Postcolonial Studies. Vol. 6. No. 3. November. Routledge.

Oliverio, A. (1998) The State of Terror. Albany; State University of New York.

Palladino, P. and Young. T. (2003). "Fight Club and the World Trade Center: On Metaphor, Scale, and the Spatio-temporal (Dis)location of Violence". Journal for Cultural Research. Vol. 7. No 2. April. Routledge.

Pollard, T. (2002) "The Hollywood War Machine". New Political Science. Vol. 24. No. 1. March. Routledge.

Rasmusson, S.L. (2005). "Masculinity and Fahrenheit 9/11" International Feminist Journal of Politics. Vol. 7. No. 1. March. Routledge.

Vaughn, B. (2000) "The Government of Youth: Disorder and Dependence?", Social and Legal Studies, Vol. 9. No. 3.

Victoroff, J. (2005). "The Mind of the Terrorist: A Review and Critique of Psychological Approaches". Journal of Conflict Resolution. Vol. 49. No. 3. February.

Wilkins, K. and Downing, J. (2002) ."Mediating Terrorism: text and protest in interpretations of The Siege". Critical Studies in Media Communication. Vol. 19. No. 4. December, Routledge.


Filmography

Black Hawk Down (2001), Directed by Ridley Scott
Die Hard (1988), Directed by John McTiernan
Fight Club (1999), Directed by David Fincher
Team America: World Police (2004), Directed by Trey Parker.
We Were Soldiers (2002), Directed by Randall Wallace

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(c) 2005, Daniel Hedger

PM Weighs in on BB controversy, for some reason

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Prime Minister John Howard has called for the axing of reality television programme Big Brother after the alleged sexual misconduct that saw two housemates prematurely ejected from the house. Despite the controversial footage not actually being broadcast by Network Ten and it being none of the government's business, Mr Howard decided to weigh in on the issue, taking time out of his busy schedule to talk about trivia.

"Look, I have no problem with sexual abuse happening in the broader society, but I don't think it should be an issue on reality television" the Prime Minister said in a radio interview today. "Reality television should be about escapism and entertainment, not actual problems of real life".

Mr. Howard also denied the problem had anything to do with the culture and mythology of mateship, despite the fact that both the male housemates involved in the incident were trying to impress eachother with male bonding rituals like 'turkey slapping'. "What? No, mateship is Australian. Turkey slapping is unAustralian. Go Soccerroos!" the Prime Minister said.

Before leaving the interview on 3AM am, Mr. Howard said "I'm glad that the liberal media has allowed me to speak about this issue. It's a rare occurrence that I am even allowed to talk on national radio, such are their communist sympathies. Did I mention Go Socceroos?"

Big Brother has not announced plans to cancel this season early, especially since the overblown hype over the incident has made Network Ten millions of dollars.

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Position Vacant: Iraqi Terrorist Leader

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Are you committed to Holy War and terror?

Do you have delusions of grandeur?

Can you behead people while wearing this seasons's most fashionable Foot Clan-style balaclavas?

Not talented enough for Iraqi Idol but still want press coverage?


Do you have male-model good looks?

If so, you might be exactly who we're looking for!

Following the untimely death of leader and martyr Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, blessings be upon him, there is now a vacant spot in al-Qaeda's upper echelons!

Successful candidate must:

- Swear to bring righteous vengeance upon The Great Satan and its allies

- Have personal experience of suicide bombs

- Be OK with being constantly and erroneously referred to as 'Bin Laden's second in command'

- Know the secret handshake.

- Be willing to prepare lunch for the whole gang every second Tuesday.

Pick up the phone and call today! This is a job to die for!

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Sophie Delizio Already Planning Next Stunt

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Pre-teen daredevil Sophie Delizio is already planning her next stunt. From her hospital bed today the plucky youngster said her next life-or-death battle will involve “lions, tigers and maybe bears. Oh my”.

Although still recovering from a car accident earlier in the year and being in a medically induced coma for days, little Sophie has not given up her drive. Nurses at her Sydney Hospital say the Aussie battler has been designing new ideas for stunts with crayons and paper towels.

“Her fighting spirit is just unbelievable” Sister Sandra Dwyer said.

Delizio first came into the daredevil spotlight in December 2003 when a car accident saw her suffer third degree burns to 90% of her little body. She recovered like a true champion only to be struck down by another car at a level crossing while riding in a pram in May this year.

Following in the hallowed footsteps of Evel Knievel, Delizio’s amazing injuries and subsequent recoveries have found her become an unwitting icon of the underground daredevil movement.

“She’s just an inspiration to all of us in the hurt-yourself-and-like-it business” said Tony Dennett, founder of the Live to Die And Come Back to Life Foundation, a combined charity and daredevil stunt funding body. “I just can’t wait until she’s back on her feet again so she throw herself in front of another car”.

Delizio has stated, however, that her days of working stunts involving cars was well and truly over.

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