Aside from the
opportunity it affords me to make
use of the word “kerfuffle,” I am reluctant to write an essay about the
kerfuffle surrounding the film Innocence
of Muslims—or, I should say, surrounding its YouTube trailer,
since as far
as I can tell nobody has seen the actual film.I have watched the offending clip, and there
is little to say about
it.Aside from the
fact that its creator
doesn’t think very highly of Muslims, it was nearly impossible to
understand.As far
as the art of satire
is concerned, to say that it makes Daniel Tosh look like Aristophanes
would be
an understatement.
I am similarly
loath to take sides between the
producers of an amateurish piece of crap and the people who were so
incensed by
the amateurish piece of crap that they deemed it necessary to make
things
explode more or less at random.My
position on the somewhat less than epic struggle between the forces of
radical
Islam and the forces of mouthbreathing American Christian
Fundamentalism
remains what it has always been: that every last warrior in both
factions has
my full-hearted permission to retire to an island and martyr one
another down
to the last man, while I and the rest of the sane people watch with
bemused indifference
from the newly secure vantage point of the real world in the 21st
century.
What I have no
readily apparent choice but to do,
however, is take issue with the terms of the debate as constructed by
the
mortifyingly high number of people on the internet who seem genuinely
to have
no idea what the law is or how it works.In the nearly six years now that I have been
writing The 1585, my close friends
have repeatedly asked me why I bother arguing with stupid people.Every time, the question
has struck me as
rather like asking why dog owners bother teaching their dogs not to
shit in the
house—the lone inaptness being that, while dog owners are free to get
rid of
their dogs, I am regrettably compelled to continue living in the same
country
as stupid people.
As there are
varying degrees of stupidity, the
following will be divided into two sections: responses to people who
have
absolutely no idea what they’re talking about, and responses to people
who have
at least some idea what they’re talking about but are still wrong. Let us begin with the
former, the sooner to be
finished with them.
I
have more
than once been obliged to clarify
exactly what “Freedom of Speech” does or does not mean, and for more
than one
reason.Usually,
this falls along the
lines of pointing out that the First Amendment doesn’t mean people
aren’t
allowed to be mad at you for what you say, only that the government is
not
allowed to arrest you.I
was
sufficiently cheesed by having even to point this out, so try to
imagine my
mood now that I find myself having to re-explain the second part of
it—i.e.,
whatever person, consortium, or developmentally disabled marmoset made Innocence of Muslims is indisputably
lacking in intellect, common decency, and (perhaps most of all)
cinematic
acumen, but equally indisputably has not broken the law.
By “the law,” I
of course mean the law as it
stands in the United States, the country in which this elusive hybrid
of
Torquemada and Ed Wood now resides.I point this out because different countries
have different laws, a
building block of elementary-school social studies apparently lost on a
plurality of the people I’ve been fortunate enough to observe weighing
in on
the matter.We’ll
start there.
Firstly,
“Freedom of Speech” is not an ethical
principle; it is an American law.Regardless
of which “side” you’re on, if you are making use of this phrase, you
are of necessity
not discussing what is “okay” or “not okay” for human beings in general
to do,
but merely what is or is not legal for them to do in the United States.I suppose I should long
ago have stopped
being surprised by the extent to which the general populace simply does
not
understand how assorted very basic things work, but here we are once
again.To recap:
the U.S. Constitution is not the
Planetary Moral Code, but merely a list of rules about what the U.S.
Government
may or may not do in the areas over which it has dominion.The extent to which even
fairly well educated
American adults seem not to understand this is legitimately troubling,
and as
far as examples of accidental Americentrism go, it may well be the most
dangerous
(in terms of pure comic value, it comes a close second to the numerous
instances one sees of well-meaning liberals obliviously referring to
Black
people in other countries as “African-Americans”).
As a rule, it
is vital never to confuse arguments
of ethics with those of legality (to employ an example I have used
before,
drinking a beer two days before your twenty-first birthday is illegal
but not
wrong, and betraying the confidence of a friend is wrong but not
illegal).To wit,
when you say that something is
protected by the First Amendment, you are not necessarily saying that
you like
or agree with it.You
are stating a fact
about the law, no differently than if you’d pointed out that the
highway speed
limit in New York State is 65 miles an hour (a fact that absolutely
no-one
likes, but which remains the law nonetheless).
The innumerable
Facebookers and comment-threaders
proclaiming that this Sam Bacile, or whatever his name is, has “abused”
his
right to Free Speech are talking nonsense on the order of square
circles.He has
exercised it in a shockingly stupid
fashion—much as, say, a man who accidentally shoots himself while
drunkenly
cleaning his own loaded gun has done with his Second Amendment
rights—but by
definition, a right cannot be “abused.”The only party to the agreement who is capable
of “crossing the line”
where the First Amendment is concerned is the government, not the
people.Likewise,
those referring to Free Speech as a
“privilege” are factually wrong.Privileges can be taken away; rights cannot.Something cannot
simultaneously be a right
and a privilege—either it is one, or it is the other.
I don’t think
anyone stupid enough to make
accusations of “hiding behind the Constitution because you hate
Muslims” reads
this website, but just in case, so much for them:the Constitution cannot be “hidden behind.”Something that can be
hidden behind can also
be gotten around, and the Constitution cannot—certainly not by the
people, and
hopefully not by the government.To
the
countless commenters I have seen make remarks along the lines of “I am
all for
Freedom of Speech, but this guy has abused it and he should be
punished,” I must ask—since you seem to be making a point of saying
“punished”
rather than “arrested”—what do you mean by “punished,” if not “arrested?”Spanked by
his parents? Your position is literally nonsense.
Saying “I
am all for Free Speech, but this guy should be punished” is absolutely
no different from saying “I am a strict vegetarian, but I am eating a
steak right now.”
The preceding reductio,
I’m afraid, was not entirely ad absurdum.A great many denizens of
the web seem genuinely
to be hazy on the fact that getting in trouble with the government as
an adult
does not work the same way as getting in trouble with your parents when
you’re
a kid.Your parents
can punish you
simply for being “bad,” even if the offense was something they hadn’t
yet taken
the time to inform you was prohibited.The government cannot.All my
bulk sighs at the necessity of explaining this to adults, but
absolutely
everything you can be arrested for (in this country, and in most
civilized
ones, if not in all) is written down somewhere.If it isn’t, you can’t be arrested for it, and
when a new law is
enacted, the people who “broke” it beforehand (you will note that
“broke” is in
vehemently sardonic quotation marks) cannot be retroactively arrested.To employ an example the
internet will
understand, this is why, when someone invents a new drug, it is legal
until the
government gets around to making a law against it (there cannot be a
blanket
law against “drugs,” just as there cannot be a blanket law against “bad
stuff”).
It is a dark
day for the literate when responding
to calls for someone to be arrested by inquiring what law he has broken
should
be dismissed as “hate speech.”Forgive
me.I was under the
impression that you
had to break the law to be arrested.I
must have nodded off in civics class on the day that Professor Facebook
explained how the entirety of the legal code could be straightarmed
directly
into the crapper in order to permit arresting someone for being a big
meany.I hereby
humbly recommend that the
construction “I am all for Freedom of Speech, but…” be promoted above
“I’m not
racist, but…” as the nonpareil of indicators that the rest of the
sentence will
be stupid.
Mercifully—for
us, if not altogether towards them—we
have now dispensed with the people who have absolutely no idea what
they’re
talking about.Onward
now to those who
have at least some idea what they’re talking about.
Those among the
faction clamoring for an arrest
who have attained the minimum level of acclimation to an adult
worldview—in other
words, they realize that “legal” and “illegal” are not exact synonyms
for “nice”
and “mean”—argue that the film falls under one or more of the several
exceptions to the Free Speech clause that have been enshrined over the
years in
U.S. law.They are
quite right that the
Supreme Court has, from time to time, established such exceptions (the
power of
public schools to enact dress codes, for example).The two most notable limitations placed on
Free Speech, and those most commonly brought up in connection with the
offending film, are Schenck v. United
States, popularly known as the “yelling fire in a crowded
theater”
decision, and Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire,
aka the “fighting words” decision.
With no shred
of irony, I applaud those who have
been arguing along these lines for at least bothering to conduct some
research
into the ins and outs of the law, as this is more than I can say for
most of
the people I see running their fingers on the web.They are, however, wrong.
In both of
these cases—and indeed in every
limitation in the United States of the right of adults to communicate
with
other adults—the radix malorum is
“imminence.”Despite
the superior fame of the former phrase,
Schenck’s “clear and
present danger”
rationale was scaled back to “imminent lawless action” by 1969’s Brandenburg v. Ohio.The “fighting words” business from Chaplinsky is essentially a rounding out
of the criminality of assault, extending the illegality of causing
someone to “apprehend
imminent physical harm” to saying to their face something that would
leave them
no choice but to kick your ass (the phrase that inspired the decision,
if you’re
wondering, was “You’re a damned fascist,” but “Your wife’s a whore”
would do
just as well, etc.).The
fine line here
is perhaps best demonstrated by the fact that those bowtied Nation of
Islam
chaps you sometimes see spouting off about Jews or “the white man” on
soapboxes
in Chicago are obliged to stay on the soapbox, out of your path, and
stare off
into space—if they climbed down off the soapbox, blocked your way, and
said the
same things to your face, they would be breaking the law.
Keeping to the
windy side of the law here, in short,
hinges on the fact that they are not making you hear them.You are free to keep
walking if you don’t
like what they’re saying, just as you are free to change the channel if
you don’t
like what someone on TV is saying.Prosecuting Sam Bacile or banning Innocence
of Muslims under Schenck
or Chaplinksy would depend on the
difficult-to-swallow notion that people are powerless
to avoid entering a theater or watching a YouTube clip.If you choose to go see a
movie, you would have
a hard time arguing that the filmmaker has assaulted you.(It bears mentioning,
however, that it would
not be a violation of the First Amendment if YouTube
decided simply
to take
down the clip, since YouTube is a private company, not the government,
and the
right of Free Expression does not oblige private organizations to
afford you a
forum for it.If
YouTube can take down
the video of your family barbeque because a copyrighted song can be
heard for
ten seconds in the background, then they’d doubtless be treading on
safe ground
here as well.)
Brandenburg
v. Ohio, by the way, concerned a KKK rally at which violence
was being
advocated by the heads of that organization to the members of that
organization, and the Supreme Court still
ended up ruling that the speech was protected—on the grounds that
violence was
being called for hypothetically at some unspecified point in the
future, rather
than right away.It
would be difficult
to argue that, if being a terrorist
and preaching violence directly to
your own terrorist followers is protected speech, somehow making a movie that is likely to piss off terrorists
is not.
To argue this,
we would have to accept that any
expression of disrespect towards Islam, delivered in any context, no
matter how
indirectly, is more likely to
result
in “imminent lawless action” than the head of the KKK convening an
in-person
meeting of the KKK in order to stir up the KKK.In other words, it would be dependent on the
assumption that Muslims are
incapable of controlling themselves—an assertion even more offensive
than the
documentary itself.There
is also the not
inconsiderable detail that the “lawless actions” allegedly incited by
the film
are taking place halfway around the world, where U.S. laws do not apply
anyway.
To my white-faced astonishment, after
bringing up these points
in a recent Facebook flamefest, I was snippily accused by one
participant of “getting
all technical.”What,
I shudder to
think, would this fellow prefer the justice system to be, if not technical?Approximate?Loosey-goosey?Chill?If
you are one of these people who apparently
considers it an inconvenience that the law is precise, reflect for a
moment on
what a considerably greater inconvenience it would be if the law were not precise.
I owe a debt of
gratitude to Hezbollah leader Sheik
Hassan Nasrallah and other Muslim bigwigs who have recently called for
an
international law banning expressions of disrespect towards any
religion.Not
because I agree with them, of course, but
because the absurdity of the proposed statute conveniently highlights
the strength
of my argument.Presumably,
the Facebook
Multicultural Police would be opposed to such a law—after all, they
want to be
free to continue to mock American Conservative Christianity (as do I).I shall put it to them,
then: if you think
there should be “some kind of law” to ensure that “something or other”
can be
done to the fellow who made Innocence of
Muslims, how exactly would you phrase this law so as to
effectively
criminalize the things you are against without also criminalizing any
or all or
the things you are for?
If by some
chance you do find yourself equipped to
sort this out, please swing by my apartment at your earliest possible
convenience, as I have a goodly mess of babies and bathwater that needs
sorting
out, not to mention pounds of flesh and drops of blood.
Like most
liberal intellectuals, I struggled to
sit through even the fourteen interminable minutes of the Innocence of Muslims trailer, but
heartily enjoyed Bill Maher’s Religulous.Pursuant to this, I
endorse the latter film
by rewarding it with my moviegoing dollar and praising it in speech,
and
condemn the former film by withholding from it my moviegoing dollar and
disparaging it in speech. Whether
I wish
there were some kind of law that could ban Bacile’s film while leaving
Maher’s
in peace is a moot point, just as it is a moot point whether I wish
there were
some form of weather that could render every day sunny without killing
all the
plants. Some have
suggested
differentiating based on whether the film “incites violence,” but it
shouldn’t
even need pointing out that all this would do is encourage violence: if
you don’t
like a movie, just smash something and claim it was because of the
movie, and
boom, the movie you didn’t like is now illegal and its director in jail.The fact that American
Fundamentalist
Christians would salivate at the prospect of bringing this fate to bear
on a
majority of Hollywood’s output should be more than enough to give even
the
Commissioner of the Multiculturalism Police pause.Should he use that pause to steal away to the
rooftop and ignite the “perfect government” signal, he will be waiting
up there
a good while—as perfect governments, like costumed superheroes, are a
childish
fantasy.
To those who
would thoughtfully amend the statute
to criminalize only those films and filmmakers that “intend
to incite violence,” my response is simpler: as soon as the
government acquires the ability to read minds, I am leaving, and I
shan’t be
back.
In closing, let
me assure you that I absolutely
agree that, in terms of karma if not law, something nasty ought by
rights to
happen to this Sam Bacile.Since
I’ve
already explained why this something nasty can and must not be the
government’s
purview, I suggest the people who have been so put out by the film
collaborate
on a documentary entitled Innocence of
Sam Bacile—which, despite your own best efforts to take this
right away
from yourselves, you are still allowed to do. Or,
I suppose, the numerous actors who were
allegedly lied to during production of the film could just sue him,
since civil
suits and criminal offenses are two entirely different matters.If nothing else, such an
effort would
drastically reduce unemployment, since it would likely take triple the
amount
of process servers currently at work in the whole of the country to
find him.