Danielle Lloyd, WAG, Jo O’Meara, former member of the pop group S Club 7, Jade Goody, reality TV star, and Jade’s boyfriend Jack Tweedy, who does nothing, are sitting around a low coffee table in the Celebrity Big Brother house. They are discussing a meal that has been cooked for them by Shilpa Shetty, Bollywood star and fellow contestant. After giving Shetty a series of confusing instructions on how to roast a chicken — a dish that Shetty, as a film star from India, has never cooked before — Goody, Lloyd and O’Meara claim that the chicken was underdone.

“I just don’t want her hands in it. Where have those hands been?” “Is it India where they eat with their hands? Or is that China?” “No wonder they’re all so thin there — they’re eating Shilpa’s chicken.” Earlier, Tweedy had called her a “c***”, adding, perhaps unnecessarily, “I hate her”.

For the past three days Goody, Lloyd, Tweedy and O’Meara have found a sense of purpose in the otherwise dull Celebrity Big Brother house in bitching about Shetty. They have called her a “dog”, talked about how they hate her and complained about the food that she cooks. Through a simple but effective series of facial expressions, postures and sighs, they have let Shetty know that she is not like them.

:image:

Instead, Shetty’s friends in the house are the older inmates who might have a better understanding of what it’s like to feel marginalised: Cleo Rocos, a Brazilian; Jermaine Jackson, an African-American; H from Steps, a gay man; and Dirk Benedict, who is from The A-Team and therefore a citizen of the world. It is with them that Shetty cries, and asks “Why am I so despised?” and when H from Steps — about as much use as a chocolate teapot — fails to give the right homily, replies on his behalf: “Girls are supposed to attack when they feel threatened. Maybe all this will make me a stronger person.”

While one is always aware that what we see on Big Brother is only one of many possible stories — in the US edition of the show they openly credit the “storyline editor” — it’s undeniable that Shetty is having a bad time in the house. Her ordeal has often made uncomfortable viewing, not least in the days before Jade Goody’s mother, Jackiey Budden, was voted out. Jackiey refused to learn Shilpa’s name, referred to her as “the Indian” and asked her if she lived in a shack (somewhat ironic for those who saw the state of Jackiey’s South London flat on ITV1’s 60 Minute Makeover: Budden kept her cooker in the bedroom).

Either way, over the past week the issue of Celebrity Big Brother’s live celebrity bullying — is it racist? Should Big Brother stop it? Why has Channel 4 not set up a premium-rate phone line for us to ring and ask all these questions? — has become big news.

More than 20,000 viewers have complained to Ofcom about the “racist” bullying. Jade Goody has been dropped by the charity Act Against Bullying, with her picture removed from its website. Keith Vaz, the Labour MP, has even tabled an early day motion calling on the show to “remind housemates that racist behaviour is unacceptable”. There is widespread outrage in India and the Indian Government is taking it seriously enough to warn Gordon Brown, coincidentally on a visit, of a diplomatic crisis. The show’s sponsor, Carphone Warehouse, is said to be “considering” withdrawing its £3 million sponsorship — although it may equally have been “considering” how to get mentioned in the biggest story of the week.

The whole ongoing incident has provoked a series of debates, some wideranging and interesting, others as mad as a box full of hair. Germaine Greer, for instance, waded into battle in The Guardian yesterday with the interesting accusation that it wasn’t bullying and that Shetty had brought the whole thing on herself, “acting” her distress to get the other, dimmer contestants into trouble.

The other, more intriguing, suggestion is that Goody, O’Meara, Tweedy and Lloyd are not being racist at all; they just genuinely, passionately and ardently hate Shetty, for herself. It is after all, as Channel 4 initially claimed, “girly rivalry”. Shetty is, unlike the others, a welleducated, beautiful, upper-middle-class movie star who speaks eight languages and has servants — but also, as pointed out by Hari Kunzru in yesterday’s Guardian, has the “occasional nerdiness and pomposity of the well brought-up Indian”. Goody, O’Meara, Tweedy and Lloyd do not hate her skin, merely her nerdy, pompous soul.

:image:

As final proof that this is all simple, healthy bitch-fighting rather than anything more poisonous and pernicious, it is pointed out that Jade Goody is herself mixed-race — her father is half black. The conclusion is that the whole affair is, actually, the result of a racially well-integrated Britain, comfortable in its differences, where young women can take the p*** out of each other’s ethnic heritages without anything more sinister going on. The good news, say defenders of Goody, O’Meara, Tweedy and Lloyd, is that they are bullying Shilpa just like they would a white girl.

This, however, ignores the fact that racism, like any prejudice, works like a dimmer switch of fear, ignorance and insensitivity, with most people placed somewhere on the continuum. Racism has a wide span, from discomfort on finding yourself alone on a bus with a black hoody to going the whole hog and naming your child “Oswald Mosley Jnr”. And it is something of which black, Asian and mixed-race people are just as capable as whites, making Goody’s ethnicity wholly inconsequential.

Nonetheless, in 2007, wherever you lie on the continuum, even the most ignorant person must be aware that doing “bud bud” Indian accents and joking about starving Indians touches a much deeper and more dangerous hurt than, say, a “mean Scot” joke. In a post-PC world it’s easy to claim that offensive words and phrases are being used in all manner of different, ameliorating contexts. However, ultimately, if you hate someone and use the weapons of racism because you know they will hurt, is that any different from just being racist? You are still doing the impolite, taboo thing in a desire to debase the other person.

With this question, Celebrity Big Brother has opened up another moral, philosophical and epistemological debate — as well as gifting us the sight of Leo Sayer fighting his way out of the house (“F*** off! Just f*** off!”) after being asked to wash his own underpants. Before the racism-row publicity put a million on the viewing figures, this series was regarded as a failure (incorrectly, as average ratings were down only slightly on last year) but now it is once again providing a fertile, swampy source of conversation.

The most interesting facet of the whole thing, however, is the near-certain ruination that the protagonists face. While Shilpa will come out of the affair with considerable public sympathy, her enemies will experience the nearest modern-day equivalent of a lynching. Before the bullying began, O’Meara could have looked forward to a new record deal or, at the very least, a spell in Grease. Now no one will touch her with a bargepole. Likewise Danielle Lloyd, who was shaping up for an easy few years on the arm of Teddy Sheringham as a top-rank WAG.

But the most extreme fall from grace will be Jade Goody’s. Since appearing in Big Brother in 2002, Goody has had the great good luck of landing as her agent John Noel, the man who also represents Russell Brand, Davina McCall, Dermot O’Leary and Sadie Frost. She has carved out an extremely lucrative career — her wealth is estimated at £8 million — from being Britain’s pet chav.

When she does something classy or “right” — lose weight, dye her hair — the gossip magazines applaud her. When she does something plebby or wrong — gain weight, enter a marathon without knowing what a mile is — they laugh at her. Either way, she has traded on her image as a candid, flailing member of the underclass: the girl who thought that “East Angular” was abroad and that the eyes on peacocks’ tails were real.

In an unintentionally poignant moment last week, Jade purposely sought to emulate these easy, career-defining nonsequiturs in an odd speech about Eskimos. “How come Eskimos haven’t turned into ice-cubes?” she asked in an oddly assumed, little-girl voice which was presumably meant to be endearing. “Everyone’s got water in their eyes. How come there’s never been a boat of Eskimos that have come over here? I’ve never heard of that. When dolphins talk to each other, do Eskimos sound like that? Like, UUUUUUUURK?”

It felt as if this speech had been guided by a previous conversation about “the Jade brand”, market consolidation and using the exposure of Celebrity Big Brother to move on to the next phase of the career — which is, presumably, to get the series Jade’s PA on to a channel more important than UK Living.

But of course, even as she spoke the agenda had moved on to bigger things. The Big Brother bandwagon was finally rolling away from her. And, as always, the people in the driving seat, cracking the whip, eating peanuts and enjoying the view, were Endemol and Channel 4.

A CLASSIC CASE OF ENVY

Anyone watching Shilpa Shetty rise above the taunts of Celebrity Big Brother’s three wicked witches will recognise a clear example of lifestyle envy. A young, glamorous film star, still at the height of her career, was always going to fall foul of the jealousy of those three. Add the enzyme of cultural differences and it all sounds more like an episode of Mind Your Language than William Golding’s Lord of the Flies.

:image:

Shetty’s experience is a classic case of playground bullying that disguises not just racism but also professional resentment and a lust for the Bollywood star’s natural elegance. Newcomers everywhere have had similar experiences: ask the Irish, the UK’s Windrush generation or Britain’s Chinese communities.

Growing up in Glasgow in the Eighties, I remember coming back after the long summer holidays to find that a new pupil had joined our secondary school. Arash was the first Iranian whom anyone at the school had ever met. Overnight, all the old enmities (white versus Asian; poor versus rich; good-looking versus Ugly Betty) disappeared as our Iranian newcomer was singled out for his looks, his use of English and his poor grasp of cultural references. His inability to pronounce the word “ penis” during a biology class only added to his agony. He pronounced it “pen is”. Racism undoubtedly played a part in how he was treated — but class differences and envy were just as important. Bullying thrives on the inability of the victim to come back with a clever put-down.

Shetty, idolised throughout the Indian sub-continent and beyond, is only the latest celebrity to discover that fame cannot buy immediate acceptance. Cultural differences are mountainous hurdles that are difficult to overcome at any age. And now that she has set the precedent of allowing her bullies more oxygen, the abuse aimed at her will only intensify.

If she were less demure and a little more argumentative — a street-smart and opinionated thirtysomething from the East End of London, for example — her three persecutors would never have had the guts to take her on. But the fact that she admits to a loathing of confrontation will encourage her housemates.

We know, though, that Shetty has been tough enough to climb to the top of the notoriously competitive Bollywood industry. She also has a black belt in karate. Now might be the time for her to put some of those devastating moves to good use.

Burhan Wazir

Follow the best Celebrity Big Brother blog on the web