For Whom the Media Speaks?

The character of the lunatic is a recurring and one of the most enigmatic figures in Shakespearean literature. Be it the madman forewarning Caesar of the ides of March or the inebriated porter mumbling profanities to Macduff, what distinguishes this lunatic from others is its inexplicable access to the central truth at the heart of the play’s narrative. Despite languishing on the margins of society and being scoffed at, this Dionysian figure foretells truth that evades even the Apollonian royalty which almost invariably revels in generating one tragic hero after another.

Another “lunatic” – albeit in the real world – who has of late come to draw enormous attention is Taher Shah, a Pakistani singer and music producer whose renditions “Eye to Eye” and “Angel” have taken social media by storm. By virtue of absurd and sometimes incoherent lyrics and glaringly flashy screenplay, both of Shah’s compositions have become the subject of sarcastic snigger among the mushrooming community of derisive netizens. In other words, Shah’s art is so bad that it is good. In “Disgust: Theory and History of a Strong Sensation”, Menninghaus writes that disgust is a strong sensation located somewhere between vomiting and laughter. The laughter directed at Shah and his creative output, then, is almost an expression of disgust.

However, what the hapless audience of Shah is so acutely afflicted by is not so much the supposed “ludicrousness” of his songs (which in itself is a contentious issue in light of the deeply humane and universal message of love they carry) as Shah himself. This popular wrath has found expression in the form of tweets like “Pakistan doesn't need nuclear weapons they can just drop this purple bomb on us.”, and “A new Weapon of Mass Devastation!!”

So, what is it about Shah that people so hate? Is it just his art? Probably not, because in the past there have been far worse examples of not-so-appealing music online. But those works of art never received such contemptuous criticism en masse. On the contrary, if one closely examines the comments on social media as well as his treatment by popular news media, it becomes clear that what people are most disgusted by (hence, are laughing at) is Shah’s hopeless earnestness: His seeming lack of consciousness about the “nonsense” he is singing. They are sniggering because they think: “This idiot wants to be a musician?!” They are laughing because they think he is crazy.

This brings us back to the point we started from: the curious case of the Shakespearean lunatic. The fact that the literary madman has a privileged access to truth may be read as a direct affront to the Kantian notion of truth: as a vertical relationship between representations and what is represented (it asks how representations are related to non-representations). For this notion to be possible, however, two criteria have to be fulfilled: (a) There has to be a truth out there to be represented; (b) The truth to be known and knowledge itself must be in a relation of continuity.

What follows from these two premises is a hypothetical singular truth, to arrive at which, an investigator must follow a linear (mathematical or scientific) path bracketing out all other “unnecessary” facets, including the text. This is simply because these unnecessary facets could only cloud the pure judgement (or analysis) of the investigator. The philosopher Spinoza, logically extending this line of argument, wrote that if one wishes to understand things in their nature, their essence, and their truth, one must take care not to laugh at them, lament them, or detest them. Only when these instincts are calmed can one finally understand.

Both the criteria mentioned above were invalidated by Nietzsche who argued that knowledge itself is an invention and has no origin. According to Nietzsche, there exists neither resemblance nor prior affinity between knowledge and the things to be known. In other words, the conditions of experience and those of the object of experience are entirely heterogeneous.

Nietzsche then goes on to reverse what Spinoza had earlier argued. Nietzsche writes that what actually occurs is exactly the opposite of what Spinoza thought. Understanding is nothing more than a certain game, or more precisely, the outcome of a certain game, of a certain compromise between laughter, lament and detestation. According to him, we understand only because behind all of that, there transpires a constant interplay and struggle of those three instincts or passions that are expressed by laughter, lament, and detestation. Knowledge, then, is not instinctive. Rather, it is counterinstinctive; just as it is not natural, but counternatural.

Now that we have a way of viewing knowledge – as counterinstinctive – let us ask: Does the media, one of the most dominant claimants to representation of knowledge since the dawn of the modern age, encourage counterinstinctive forms of knowledge? Or does it still adhere to the Kantian framework of linear investigation with the ultimate hope of finding pure knowledge out there?

To answer these questions, let us take the case of Taher Shah’s treatment by the news media.

This was what an article published in The Indian Express (Title: “Who is the ‘sensational’ Taher Shah and why he is dominating your timeline”) wrote about his song: “With lyrics like — ‘without your eye, I’m like butterfly’, his ‘music’ is known for all the wrong reasons, at least by any one you has even the faintest sense of music, but that’s not reason enough for the Pakistani singer to stop… But in keeping with his unique style, his new single ‘Angel’ too might make you wanna reach for your ear buds rather than your earphones. Be warned!” Another article in Hindustan Times reads: “Shah earlier starred in a music video ‘Eyes’ which caught on in popularity but not for its music but more for its sheer absurdity… Despite the poor lyrics and the outrageous visuals, Taher Shah continues to amuse and entertain Pakistan.”

India Today reported: “Launching his new single late last night, Shah has broken what were called the barriers of 'acceptable nonsense'.” And The Independent wrote: “Shah's Urdu is immaculate, but his English, which he uses for some publicity and for his lyrics, is the source of much mirth.”

It is evident that all of the above coverages are almost blindly instinctive and natural as opposed to being counterinstinctive or counternatural. Rather than playing the role of a creator of space for a sincere artist, the news media is trying its best to suffocate an artist into inactivity. What is worse is that it is fanning and consolidating established social structures that are potentially oppressive, denying any form of historicity on the part of the subject. The best example of this attitude is the aforementioned statement of The Independent, a British daily. As in most of the postcolonial states, the upper-middle class in Pakistan is fluent in English while the one just below it simply aspires to be. Shah belongs to this latter – aspirational – class. One’s relative command over the English language is very much an indicator of class in that country. Now, given the colonially shaped factors that are largely responsible for these prevalent social structures of power in Pakistan, nothing could be more ironical and tragic than a British newspaper making fun of the English of an upwardly mobile, aspiring citizen of one of its former colonies in the same tone as an English-speaking upper-middle class Pakistani citizen would.

Such episodes make it evident that mainstream media has not yet geared itself up to the requirements of a postmodern world: a world defined only by contradictions, “lunacies” and imperfections. This media is very much caught within the modernist mode of linear, boxed thinking and investigation: one that aims to bracket out, if possible, even the very text that carries the news, in favour of “pure” knowledge or information. Thus, it ends up leaving little room for difference of not only opinions but also – and probably more importantly – actions.

This leaves us with at least one baffling question: In a postmodern world, who does the media speak for, if not for the postmodern subject?

Much like how the lunatic heralds the truth in Shakespeare, our brief study of the curious case of Taher Shah has led us to one of many “truths”: In the world of swelling passions that we live in today, the media speaks the language of instincts, passions. And whose language is it? It is the language of an audience oscillating between a media-generated Eurocentric imagination of perfection and realities of a fragmented, postcolonial world defined only by imperfection. So, rather than assuming the role of a harbinger of change in society, the media continues to facilitate the maintenance of a harmonious, Apollonian status-quo in terms of discourse, thus favouring and speaking for the dominant interest groups in society.

Sadly, the tragic hero, in this case, turns out to be our beloved ‘Angel’.