You could call it the whistle-blower’s dilemma. Is loyalty to the tribe,
solidarity with your mates, a higher virtue than fidelity to the truth? Is
the moral courage required to speak out when you know something is wrong a
more admirable trait than the respect for those who have looked out for you
in the past, which might incline you to keep your trap shut when they’re
under suspicion? It’s that basic moral question that lies at the heart of a
superb Channel 4 drama to be broadcast on Thursday. The Mark of Cain
is a searing, wrenching, disorientating account of British troops under the
most extreme pressure. Set in the months immediately after the liberation of
Iraq, it grips from the first frame to the last. It lays out in brutally
arresting terms the difficult moral choice between loyalty and honesty. And
yet I would never have commissioned it.
The tribe to which I belong, the profession with which I’ve shown solidarity
throughout my career, is journalism. And the basic principle of journalism
is a belief in free speech; indeed, more than that, a desire to drag into
the open those things the powerful would rather keep hidden, and a natural
affinity with all those who push the boundaries of expression, even unto the
point of giving offence. Faced with the question of whether it was right to
publish, for example, Danish cartoons that mocked the Prophet Muhammad, my
view has always been, let them be seen. And the more vehemently that
fundamentalist obscurantists demand that they be censored, the more powerful
the obligation on the rest of us to ensure that we are not intimidated into
censoring ourselves because of their threats.
So, if I can defend the widespread publication of some cartoons, which are
certainly offensive, and may be of only indifferent artistic merit – indeed,
if I can not just sympathise with their publication but insist upon it – how
on earth can I defend my negative attitude towards a drama that I freely
acknowledge is superbly made? Because the moral questions that the drama
discusses are as nothing next to the moral problems that its screening will
raise. The Mark of Cain is marketed as a fictional drama, but it has
been filmed with documentary verisimilitude. It depicts, over two hours,
horrific scenes of prisoner abuse in which British troops visit disgusting
punishments on innocent Iraqi detainees. British soldiers are shown bullying
their juniors, with NCOs looking on benignly. The treatment of Iraqis is
characterised by a gleeful sadism laced with casual racism. Faced with the
threat of exposure, ranks close but it’s the other ranks who are left to
take the heat. While officers and NCOs scuttle out of danger, two private
soldiers are court-martialled and it’s then that they have to weigh up
loyalty to the guys who have covered their backs in the past with the need
to speak truth to power.
I have no problem with that dilemma being posed in dramatic form. But I do
take issue with Channel 4’s decision to screen a drama, its only dramatic
depiction of our troops at war in Iraq, which portrays them all as bullies,
sadists, moral vacuums or cowards. And I worry profoundly what effect it
will have on British forces in the Gulf when one of our state-backed
broadcasters screens appalling footage of them abusing Iraqis which, while
taken from a drama, has all the vérité power of a documentary.
Channel 4 must ask itself what greater risk British soldiers will be put to as
a result of this screening, and what justifies that greater risk. I know
that its spin-doctors will talk about its historic responsibility to raise
difficult issues but, frankly, no one buys that tosh any more. This is the
channel that justified the psychological bullying of Big Brother on
the basis that it was sparking a debate on racism (you might as well sponsor
a BNP march down Brick Lane on the same principle). And this is the channel
that fights its rating war from the gutter, with shows such as Something
for the Weekend and Sex in Court sitting a little uncomfortably
alongside its public service broadcasting obligations. Channel 4 coming over
all evangelical about the need to grapple with the big moral issues is as
convincing as a crack addict managing the Priory.
The real moral issue that Channel 4 needs to tackle – indeed, that the
broadcast media as a whole must consider – is not so much the need for moral
courage on the part of our troops. The men and women in the Gulf show the
sort of bravery every day of their professional lives that should leave the
rest of us speechless with admiration. No, the real issue is the disturbing
moral relativism of our media and their lack of moral clarity at a time of
trial for freedom. How can it be right that the only drama yet screened
about our troops in Iraq, who are risking everything to help to build a
democracy, is one in which they are depicted as sadists and cowards? Why do
the people who commission this sort of stuff seem to hate our country, and
our values, so much that their first impulse is to see what they can do to
blacken the reputation of those who fight in our name? And what does it say
about the moral courage of our broadcasters that the broader context of the
war our soldiers are fighting, the struggle against militant Islamism, just
doesn’t get a look-in? It’s time that the whistle was blown on the
broadcasters’ abuse of our soldiers’ mission.
A truly Lenten epiphany chez Paul
At the age of 39 I had thought that there were no truly sublime pleasures left
that I could taste for the first time. I’d experienced the joy of the woman
I love saying “I do”, witnessed the miracle of childbirth and watched
Aberdeen FC win a major European trophy (albeit 24 years ago). But in the
past month I’ve discovered a pleasure that ranks alongside, at least, the
third of those. And it costs only £1.60.
It all started when I gave up coffee (bad for my health and, given my intake,
a genuinely significant Lenten sacrifice). I was determined to stick to my
resolution, but found that at some points in the day I needed a hot drink,
just to give me a little lift through the next few hours. So, passing
through South Kensington, I stopped at the French bakery chain Paul and
bought a hot chocolate as a treat. And what a treat: Paul’s hot chocolate is
to other hot chocolates as Krug is to Babycham. It tastes so incomparably
better – richer without being cloying, more intensely chocolatey without
seeming like a chef’s sauce, perfectly balanced between sweetness and
cocoaness – that I’m amazed that it sells for less than a bog-standard
Starbucks cappuccino. It’s like finding gold on the market selling, ounce
for ounce, at less than wood shavings. There are so many other good things
about Paul that I could mention, but even if its bread were made of soot,
the hot chocolate would still make it the best bakery I know.
Woman of mystery
The toughest arts question in any quiz used to be “name a poem by the current
Poet Laureate”. But I’ve thought of a tougher one. Apart from her
contribution to the Austin Powers ouevre, can you recall the name of any
character played in a movie by Liz Hurley?
