Most mainstream drama serials sprinkle in a little bit of ‘awareness’ regarding trending issues to stay relevant. The trouble is they sometimes disrespect the issue they want to highlight, leading to more harm than good
2020 will be remembered as the year lived over an internet connection. While certainty, spirits and sanity deteriorated, there was one upward trend: screen time. Social media apps thrived but, with fewer social activities to post, they prospered with social activism. Other popular forms of screen time, like drama serials, followed. Different issues took the spotlight over the weeks and months. Whether they were about the oppression of minorities, sectarian conflict, rape culture, colourism, racism or feminism, these online conversations led many Pakistanis to question themselves and grow intellectually. Sadly, nothing good comes without a price. The social media growth also paved the way for performative activism.
Performative activism refers to activism done to gain social standing without genuine care, research and understanding. None of us are exempt from this pretentiousness; un-cited infographics on social media are frequently the news source for many. Such performativity has become rampant and threatens to tear down the very message it pretends to spread. It’s hard to identify such activism because superficially it appears to be aware about issues of social justice.
While watching my weekly dramas, I have noticed a similar phenomenon on Pakistani television. In addition to recycled stereotypes and storylines, most mainstream drama serials sprinkle in a little bit of ‘awareness’ regarding trending issues to stay relevant. The trouble is they sometimes disrespect the issues they highlight, leading to more harm than good. It’s refreshing to see current issues being discussed through art but when they’re portrayed inaccurately, several variants of a concept arise. These variants can then polarise the thought processes and divide the society. According to a 2014 survey conducted by the Broadcasting Board of Governors, 76.2 percent of Pakistani adults watch TV every week. With such a large audience consisting of many social classes, television management should be accountable to their viewers.
One of the most highly rated shows of 2020 was Yeh Dil Mera, written by Farhat Ishtiaq. It revolved around the after-effects of childhood traumas. Both the main characters, Noor-ul-ain and Amaanullah have internalised their trauma in different ways. Noor-ul-ain’s mind hides the trauma in her subconscious while Amaanullah’s trauma turns into an unhealthy obsession with revenge. This admirable portrayal takes a 180 degree turn in the last episode with the message that Amanullah should’ve taken the high road of forgiveness. But, just like a physical illness, a mental illness isn’t always in the patient’s control and Amanullah should not have been judged in this way. Problems that society still stigmatises shouldn’t be trivialised for an overly simple, feel-good ending.
Sabaat, another popular television show, incorporates the topic of workplace harassment without giving it the nuanced treatment it deserves. The heroine, Anaya, is depicted as a feminist in this play written by Kashif Anwar. Leading a passionate seminar regarding harassment, her character comes off as knowledgeable. She speaks of a pure world free of malice. The performative activism is revealed when Anaya herself is put in a tough situation by her employer. She responds by insulting her boss in front of her co-workers and resigns from her job. While the scene is fun to watch with dramatic music and glasses shattering, it sends a frightening message to the audience: being harassed is a choice. If Anaya was comfortable yelling in front of her colleagues, she should’ve also been comfortable reporting the matter to HR and end the disgusting cycle. Instead, she was portrayed as the dutiful Pakistani girl who sacrifices her job to maintain her character. It goes without saying that her employer does not suffer any consequences.
One can always go in circles and argue about whether life imitates art or art imitates life, but the age-old debate is rendered useless when it fails to take into account that life imitating art is much more consequential. Real people with real problems identify solutions for social problems on television. A prime example of this is a recent show Dunk, written as a ‘tribute’ to victims of false allegations of sexual harassment by Mohsin Ali Shah. Many are already drawing parallels between this show and Meesha Shafi’s sexual harassment complaint. In a country where 11 people are reported raped a day there is little room for plays that might lead to more victim-blaming.
When performative activism is widespread, the role of mainstream media becomes even more important. Given their hour-long episodes and capacity for more than 140 characters, TV drams can afford a more than cursory look at issues of social importance. A recent show, Ek Jhooti Love Story, penned by Umera Ahmed, provides a breath of fresh air by doing just that. It highlights the unnecessary baggage of patriarchy that the society still lugs around, while being sensitive. No one is unnecessarily villainised and all genders are shown to be oppressed by outdated systems. If TV serials are well-researched, they might be part of the cure to the polarisation that is sweeping the nation. Here’s to hoping that the time Pakistanis give to their screen this year is filled with genuine, tolerant and unifying content.
The writer is an undergraduate at the University of Toronto. She can be reached at sarahhameed2@gmail.com