Comment

Humour and faux civility

When Miss Courtney asked Anna Schmidt what the population of England was, Schmidt in her precise Germanic manner answered, “Englisch”. Miss Courtney answered, only partly sotto voce, “Not any more”.

Now count the racial stereotypes in that one. All Germans are precise, the English are exclusive and snooty and it’s all right to make fun of foreigners who do not understand your language or culture. And still, you laugh.

A TV channel is showing reruns of Mind Your Language, a show that was pulled off the air in Britain after three years in 1979, as it was found to be, of course, politically incorrect and insensitive.

In the countries likely to have been offended — India, Pakistan, Sri Lanka — the show was popular, remade locally and still good for an occasional laugh. But now may be you cringe a bit? Or not.

When Ali, the Pakistani played by a Bangladeshi actor and Ranjeet the Indian Sikh played by a Sri Lankan — also a producer of the show —trade insults because one is Muslim and the other Sikh, there is less malice more acceptance of animosity.

Most of the jokes are idiotic and make fun of people’s accents and the easy way in which we misunderstand each other. Just the kind of jokes we in the subcontinent with our different accents, regional differences and several prejudices enjoy.

Maybe when immigrants live in a foreign country, it all becomes very sensitive. But what do you make of it when Sacha Baron Cohen goes to the USA and makes Borat: Cultural Learnings of America For Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan?

Pretending to be a Kazakh TV reporter, he exposes the prejudices of America, of his invented version of Kazakhstan and of humans in general. The Kazakhs hate Jews and homosexuals and boy, don’t so many Americans as it turns out.

Borat was shot “mockumentary-style” so most people being pilloried or exposed had no idea till they saw the film. Cohen — also known as Ali G — is a well-known British satirist with sharp cutting-edge humour.

The one group that appeared to know that Cohen was taking the mickey were feminists, but they have a longer history of seeing through mockery than most.

Mind Your Language, which made innocent good-natured fun of us, is politically incorrect because it plays upon stereotypes. Borat is satire because it turns our own prejudices back on ourselves.

Of the two, Borat is far more offensive at face value and many of the inadvertent participants have tried to sue, with little effect. Borat is offensive because we are offensive.

But when the Japanese Taro says “Ah so” or Ranjeet (in a distinctly un-Punjabi accent) says “thoussand apologies” or Danielle the French au pair is coquettish, somehow it appears to imply that these nationalities are trapped in caricature.

Or does it? Come on. Surely, when we watched it in the subcontinent, we knew that someone was making fun of us, but we laughed as much at Ali and Ranjeet as at the others?

Political correctness can go too far, that we know, until it becomes a monsterish cartoon of itself. Just watching a couple of episodes of Mr “Blown” and his class gives us a chance to break that restrictive PC mould. Thoussand apologies for this, por favor.

Email: b_ranjona@dnaindia.net