Homosexuality in Contemporary Uganda – Sam Shu

Homosexuality in Contemporary Uganda

SAM SHU

This As the “Pearl of Africa,” Uganda has always been under the spotlight on the international stage. With the help of rapid globalization in the past decades, Uganda has been exposed to unparalleled opportunities for its development, but it has also drawn the public’s attention in a variety of circumstances. One of the instances of such attention, without doubt, lies in the debate of LGBT rights in the country. It was not disputed widely across the globe until the proposal of the notorious Anti-Homosexuality Bill in 2009, and the subsequent release of the 2012 award-winning documentary Call Me Kuchu, directed by Katherine Fairfax Wright, which brought the issue to a wider audience. The documentary specifically focuses on the LGBTQ community and its struggles in Kampala, the capital city of Uganda, before and after the bill proposal. It primarily revolves around David Kato, Uganda’s “first openly gay man” who had dedicated himself to promoting LGBT rights in Uganda. But with beliefs rooted in Christianity from the colonial era and African cultures that existed for centuries, the vast majority of Kampala’s citizens denied him such an opportunity and even trampled on the legitimacy of the community’s existence. It has become clear that the interactions of modern Western values and local traditional norms are the key factors shaping people’s understanding and judgment of homosexuality in Kampala as portrayed explicitly in Call Me Kuchu. In particular, with the help of Lydia Boyd’s research on individual personhood and social concern of youth recruitment in Kampala, and discussions of Christianity and the origin of homosexuality, the national hatred towards homosexuality depicted in Call Me Kuchu can be seen as a display of ekitiibwa (honor and respectability) in African values and a denial of Western influence.

In the documentary, the concern with homosexuality extends beyond personal choices and is more linked with a family’s overall lineage and individual personhood in a collective environment. In the scene where one of

the main advocates, Stosh, opens up about her journey, she talks to her aunt through phone trying to explain her identity as a homosexual. However, her aunt rather considers this as Stosh’s profession instead of acknowledging this as part of her identity as a normal human being. She asks whether Stosh earns money from it, leaving Stosh helplessly arguing that “There’s nothing I earn. It’s me. It’s who I am.” Such family denial is studied in Lydia Boyd’s essay “The Problem with Freedom: Homosexuality and Human Rights in Uganda.” In the essay, Boyd introduces the concept of ekitiibwa, which refers to “honor” and “respectability,” and accentuates the idea that “even as the region underwent dramatic social changes with the introduction of Christianity and colonial rule, the demonstration of ekitiibwa through submission to networks of kinship and clientage defined proper personhood” (705). In other words, the importance of ekitiibwa in Uganda, dating back to even before the colonization period, is evident in that it is highly regarded in sexual relationships, namely marriages from today’s perspective, and also in kinships and clans. From ancient times, ekitiibwa has been the most significant trait of a person and was determinant of one’s social status. It was largely maintained by marriage, procreation and kin relationships. Therefore, violations or deviations of ekitiibwa by any means are not only a threat to the individual, but rather the whole lineage within a preformed societal structure. What is more, ekitiibwa defines “proper personhood” in the sense that in a collective environment that emphasizes clans and kinships, living without ekitiibwa means living without the quality of an individual person in the society, and therefore someone in such condition would be disregarded as a family member. Although in Boyd’s essay she also claims homosexuality to have always been practiced in Uganda, it was never accepted because no proper kind of marriage was formed, therefore practicing it is a complete deviation from the virtues of ekitiibwa, a kind of “freedom” the Ugandans speak against. Thus, the role of homosexuality is always deviant under such traditional beliefs. In Call Me Kuchu, Stosh is facing exactly the same situation where she is denied by her whole family as she is violating the traditional beliefs of ekitiibwa and putting herself and the entire lineage or clan at risk. Her individual personhood, with the loss of ekitiibwa, is fractured in her family’s collectiveness, and as she miserably speaks out the truth, “It is one thing being outed and another one being denied,” we can see how strongly

holding such traditional beliefs are restraining her from being her true self even in the contemporary society.

However, a family’s denial of homosexuality does not simply originate from traditional beliefs of individual honor or collective respectability; it also stems from the fear of Western influences over Uganda and the homosexuality youth recruitment rumors in Kampala society. One of the most shocking scenes in the documentary takes place in a campaign where someone preaches to elders on helping their children out of the conspiracy of homosexuality recruitment. The preacher is indignantly shouting at the crowd in the open field about the “homosexual youth recruitment agenda,” claiming “it’s going to hurt the nation and hurt families,” and it is “sweeping into [their] education system, and parents are losing their rights over the education of their children.” His attempt to brainwash the audience by throwing out extreme statements on homosexuality is heavily and excessively responded to by the crowds. Some of them are holding hands hailing prayers in a circle, either standing or kneeling with twisted sincerity and pain on their faces. Some close their eyes tightly and murmur the prayers along with the preacher, and others are helped by the preacher himself. All the faces look distorted, drenched in sorrow and resentment, and behind all the hyperactivity lies a deeper layer of enervation, helplessness, and fear towards the unknown possibilities of homosexuality. Boyd in her essay also discusses the fear that Ugandans claim homosexuals to be “operating in conjunction with Western norms and values that are threatening (even ‘inhuman’), and … are so dangerous (not normal humans) because they are themselves supposedly unconnected to kin, clan, and lineage relationships” (709-10). That is, Ugandans believe that homosexuality is an imported Western influence and it is completely against the nature of the land as it has nothing pertinent to their cultural affiliations with kinships and clans, and this is where ekitiibwa plays a crucial role. The different yet congruent expressions from the crowds in the campaign are explicit rejections of homosexuality and regarding it as a Western threat over their own African culture.

At the same time, it is clear how the Western religion Christianity itself has created contradictions in the issue, especially in the scene of David’s

funeral after he was unexpectedly and brutally murdered. During the scene, there were two groups, one of which is the radical religious believers and the other is the mourners. The radicals were resentfully judging David and the entire LGBT community in Uganda and praying for their “total destruction,” constantly repeating words such as “you should repent” and “you’re going to hell.” While the other group, led by Bishop Senyonjo, who ardently protects the human rights of the community under his doctrines, were grieving for their lost warrior and eulogizing David for his bravery and contributions to the community. Christianity came with the missionaries during the colonial period from Europe, and after years of development it became the religion most Ugandans live by. However, Ugandans did not spend much time rejecting such foreign values as they are doing currently towards homosexuality. Instead they embraced Christianity and incorporated it into daily practices. On this issue, we can see that Ugandans are regarding Christianity as a Western version of ekitiibwa, which essentially expresses the same values as their traditional beliefs. In Christianity, honoring God becomes the key factor defining proper personhood, and Ugandans also regard the religious believers as clans who share honors and values with each other. Therefore, they accepted such values much more easily and intertwined them with their existing ones.

While we are certain Christianity is historically brought from the West, and even though the majority of Ugandans argue that homosexuality is not inherent, whether or not homosexuality came along with Christianity from Europe remained a mystery. Right after the funeral scene, the Rolling Stones editor posed his thoughts about the issue. He suggests that “People need to know that human rights do not mean gay rights, especially in Uganda,” drawing a line between two concepts that are generally equivalent when it comes to LGBT rights, and implying that gay rights are not acceptable in Uganda. What is hidden behind the words is his belief that homosexuality does not belong to Africa and his determination that African traditional values are on the more righteous side. In fact, the origin of homosexuality has been heatedly discussed. For instance, in the essay “Homosexuality is an African Thing,” Muniini K. Mulera claims homosexuality is inherent in Africa, and as “African as most of the other imported behaviors and tastes from Europe

which have become part of our contemporary culture” (94). He enumerates words in different African local languages that express homosexuality and several scholarly pursuits of literature on homosexuality to back up his argument that homosexuality has existed in Africa long before the colonial expansion. This unique viewpoint challenges the aforementioned youth recruitment rumors and dismisses the social contention that homosexuality should be resisted as it is against African traditional values, values that, ironically, are partially based on a religion also from the West. While on the other hand, in a response essay “Come on Dr. Tamale, Gayness is not African,” Mary Karooro Okurut regards homosexuality as “an influence brought in from the outer world”, and calls for the society to “uphold … African values that we hold dear, not to blindly copy and make on Western culture wholesale” (100-101). Okurut’s ideas are again implicitly connected to rooted beliefs in individual personhood and ekitiibwa that are superior to values imported from the West. She believes homosexuality is a violation of the law of the land, a threat from societies that do not cherish and uphold their collectiveness and respectability standards, and it should be inexorably opposed. From these polarized opinions, we can witness distinctive interpretations of traditional values, where the former admits homosexuality as a part of them while the latter defies it as against their clan-driven society. The complication within such an important issue is that the immense discussion of the origin of homosexuality shows the public’s reluctance to allow homosexuality to permeate into their own society and they try to oppose it as an outer force and claim their own cultural practices instead.

Regardless of its foreignness, the conception of homosexuality is not easily accepted in Ugandan society. From looking through the role of ekitiibwa, to the deep-rooted Western resentment and how Christianity is aligned with ekitiibwa, we are starting to discern the intricacy of the issue that emerged long before the 21st century. Clearly, traditional values such as ekitiibwa that emphasize individual personhood in a clan and kinshiporiented society and the fear of Western influence over the country are indispensable in analyzing the national resentment towards homosexuality, but it is also interesting to see how the documentary, clearly made primarily for Western audiences, is omitting discussions of the significance of such

African traditional beliefs with no more than a few lines in its 85-minute entirety. In other words, the documentary overlooking the importance of values including ekitiibwa was a clear oversight that led to the failure of the audiences to contextualize and more deeply understand why LGBT rights are so opposed. The complexity of the issue itself truly makes us ponder over the confrontation between traditional values and fundamental human rights, but after all, who are we to judge?

WORKS CITED

Boyd, Lydia. “The Problem with Freedom: Homosexuality and Human Rights in

Uganda,” Anthropological Quarterly, vol. 86, no. 3, 2013, pp. 697-724.

Mulera, Muniini. “Homosexuality is an African Thing,” Homosexuality:

Perspectives from Uganda, edited by Tamale, Sylvia, Sexual Minorities

Uganda (SMUG), 2007, pp. 91-4.

Okurut, Mary K. “Come on Dr.Tamale, Gayness is not African,” Homosexuality:

Perspectives from Uganda, edited by Tamale, Sylvia, Sexual Minorities

Uganda (SMUG), 2007, pp. 99-101.

Call Me Kuchu. Directed by Malika Zouhali-Worrall and Katherine Fairfax

Wright, Cinedigm, 2012.

The Ambiguous Concept of Evil: A Problem in Assessing Legitimacy

SONIA CLAUDIA CĂTINEAN

The legitimacy of humanitarian intervention has remained a topic of great debate among academics and politicians alike. Because of its vulnerability to be abused, justifying the use of force on humanitarian grounds became a pretext for foreign nationals to intervene not for humanitarian reasons but for selfish motives. One of the most controversial cases where the issue of legitimacy was called into question was the Kosovo War in 1999 when NATO attacked the Serbian military positions. The legitimacy of the 1999 NATO bombing of the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia represented a complicated legal challenge for NATO because it did not receive prior approval from the United Nations Security Council. On what grounds can we nevertheless deem it legitimate? The United Nations Commission on Human Rights considered that the intervention was justified because all diplomatic avenues had been exhausted and the outcome of the intervention was humanitarian: the liberation of the majority population of Kosovo from a long period of oppression under Serbian rule. However, a critical examination leaves us wondering about this legitimacy: ‘NATO military intervention was illegal yet legitimate’ (Kosovo Report, 2000: 4).

Despite being legitimate, NATO intervention has since been disputed by many legal theoreticians, such as Robin May Schott, who questions the situation of war and moral judgments about it: ‘instead of legitimating some wars as just, it is better to acknowledge that both the situation of war and moral judgments about war are ambiguous’ (Robin, 2008: 122). NATO framed the situation in Kosovo as warranting a humanitarian intervention through an array of carefully crafted speeches by political leaders, such as Tony Blair and Vaclav Havel. In their speeches, Blair specifically responds to criticism trying to establish the calm and trust in NATO’s power, while Havel praised NATO intervention: ‘Nevertheless, I consider President Clinton’s drive within the Alliance to enlarge it by the three new countries to be one of the

most significant international political steps of his administration’ (Czech Television, March 2001: 99).

What is especially noticeable from these speeches is the assertion of the purported evilness of the enemy – in this case, the Serbian president Slobodan Milosevic. However, how can NATO countries justify their humanitarian intervention relying on the evilness of their enemy as an argument? In this essay, I analyze the social construction of legitimacy in the Kosovo case to expose that its justification relied on the concept of evilness. Although purporting evilness is used as an argument for intervening, one should ask if evil even exists and if it has any moral relevance in the discourse of humanitarian intervention. In The Myth of Evil, Philip Cole argues that the idea of evil is a mythological concept. He states that someone described as evil is a victim in a story with a prescribed role and it does not represent a valid argument to judge someone’s behavior (Cole, 2006: 6). On the other side, May Schott states that violence cannot be morally justified since it still represents an evil means. Both authors reject evil as a standard universal principle as well as its validity for moral judgment. Given these dubious credentials, I argue here that evil is a fickle concept that ultimately undermines the moral criteria of humanitarian intervention. How can we approach the goal of humanitarian intervention, to end human rights violations, if we use the violence that bases legitimacy on the concept of evil? If evil does not have any constituency, how can we deem humanitarian intervention in the Kosovo war legitimate? Thus, by questioning the narrative of legitimacy framed around the concept of evil, I thereby claim that the real problem that we face today is that we have no moral standards left to assess legitimacy.

In the process of justifying their legitimacy, NATO uses media as a form of spreading the ideas of evilness far and wide, influencing public opinions. In his speech, ‘A New Generation Draws The Line,’ the British Prime Minister, Tony Blair, offers a moral framework of why they should no more appease dictators, identifying Milosevic with evil: ‘Milosevic’s actions in Kosovo have given rise to scenes of suffering and cruelty people thought were banished from Europe forever’ (Blair, 1999). After 3 weeks from the beginning of bombing, Blair responds to criticism, trying to emphasize the essential role NATO has

in stopping the ethnic cleansing committed by Serbs. As a strategy of gaining credibility and trust in NATO, Blair affirms that the non-intervention in Bosnia was a mistake and this time they promise they will not give up the war till Milosevic agrees to stop the atrocities. He states that the battle is not between the civilians but with the ‘architects of Kosovo’s ethnic cleansing’ (Blair, 1999), pointing out that those responsible for the crimes will be brought to justice. On the other side, the use of the motive of ‘50th NATO birthday’ (Blair, 1999) leaves space for interpreting the real reason that stayed behind NATO intervention. Naom Chomsky reminds in ‘Humanitarian Imperialism – The New Doctrine of Imperial Right,’ that the real motives of the Western countries of intervening were ‘the cohesion of NATO and the credibility of American power’ (Chomsky 2008: 45) in order to support American primacy.

Both Blair and Vaclav Havel, President of Czechoslovakia, remind in their speeches that the war in Kosovo is ‘the first war ever fought that is not being fought in the name of interests, but in the name of certain principles and values’ (Havel,1999: 98), and ‘In this conflict we are fighting not for territory but for values’ (Blair,1999). In his speech held in Ottawa on April 29, 1999, Havel argues for the human rights that are more important than the rights of states, and this war is the great example that can affirm it: ‘the bombardment and the war were not an expression of a warrior’s cravings or a special liking for war, but an expression of great care for human destiny’ (NIN, November 2000: 100). He does not omit to remember that NATO countries, including the Czech Republic which became a NATO member two weeks ago before the beginning of the NATO bombing, are doing their best to annihilate the genocide caused by the evil side: ‘The Alliance of which both Canada and the Czech Republic are now members is waging a struggle against the genocidal regime of Slobodan Milošević’ (Havel, 2002: 98). However, purporting the evilness of the enemy as an argument for legitimizing the use of force can be problematic, as many scholars, such as Philip Cole asserts. Cole’s aim is to discover whether the idea of evil has any place in a secular understanding of humanity, or whether it is a mythological concept. The fundamental problem is one of explanation and whether the concept of evil can play any constructive or useful role in explaining human action. Cole

rejects the idea that there is the traditional approach where evil is a force which creates monsters in human shape: ‘Evil is something to be feared, and historically, we shall see, it is the enemy within who has been representing the most intense evil of all’ (Cole, 2006: 2). He states that evil is a myth that we have created about ourselves. In emphasizing the carelessness with which the idea of evil is used, Cole offers an example, where the woman who killed her ex-husband’s wife together with her two children, is considered to be evil. The answer given to the question: ‘Why did she do it?’ (Cole, 2006: 5), ‘because she was evil’ (Cole, 2006: 5) is incomplete and does not represent a real description of the person. In this situation, evil is used as a grand narrative in justifying one’s behavior. Cole argues that in order to judge someone’s behavior, one must seek to understand ‘the social, psychological, historical conditions that act as the background for horrific acts’ (Cole, 2006: 8). In this situation, the idea of evil fails to help us understand how such events happen and the evidence provided for judging someone’s behavior undermines the existence of the concept of evilness. Therefore, the use of force as a response to the evilness of the enemy cannot be considered a valid argument.

The problematic idea of using the concept of evil to justify the use of force is also analyzed by the feminist philosopher Robin May Schott. She argues against the thesis that war can be just, as Hannah Arendt said: ‘Violence can be justifiable, but it will never be legitimate’ (Arendt cited in May Schott 2009: 123). May Schott also criticizes Michael Walzer’s theory of Emergency Ethics. Walzer argues that the conflict between two parties should be understood as the conflict between just and unjust causes. He focuses on the evil acts committed by the just side in war in two cases: double effect and supreme emergency (Walzer cited in May Schott 2009: 129). The task of the doctrine of double effect is to explain the permissibility of the exceptions when civilians may be justifiably killed. What is decisive in this case is the goodness of intention, that the evil on the side of the just party is to be understood ‘as the evil effects of the good intentions’ (May Schott, 2009: 130). However, according to Kant, we have no transparency in what motivates us to act in a different way, so we can never be sure if our intentions can justify an evil outcome, “Since we cannot know our own or another’s moral motivation, it is best to assume that moral motivation is inadequate.’ (May Schott, 2009: 124).

In case of a supreme emergency, when the human values are under significant threat, soldiers are licensed to use the force and sacrifice the rights of innocent people: ‘one might well be required to override the rights of innocent people and shatter the war convention’ (Walzer cited in May Schott 2009: 129). However, how can we maintain a commitment to protect human rights and at the same time to justify the overriding of these rights? Here May Schott argues that even if Walzer recognizes the ambiguity of the moral situation, he does not recognize the ambiguity in moral judgment. She states that Just War Theory cannot address the problem of evil in terms of war, and hence cannot justify the individual’s intentions.

NATO intervention in Kosovo in 1999 is one of the most controversial cases that faced the difficulty in answering the question: ‘How to enforce human rights when these are violated within a state?’ (May Schott, 2009: 135). Since the doctrine of humanitarian intervention promotes the responsibility to protect human rights from being violated, how can collective political violence be legitimate when the use of force is seen as an evil means that undermines the doctrine? The concept of evil calls into question rather than clarifies the way a humanitarian intervention can be morally justified. First of all, ‘if such evil exists, we have to make it comprehensible’ (Cole, 2006: 5) and that means to define evilness as a standard principle. However, how can we be sure that what was considered evil centuries ago can be considered evil today? As Nietzsche said: ‘All things are subject to interpretation – whichever interpretation prevails at a given time is a function of power not of truth.’ The concept of evil is changeable and is subject to interpretation. Using it as an argument for justifying the use of force is therefore questionable. Secondly, one must look at both sides to be able to recognize that there are evil interests on both sides. Chomsky states that ‘the real reason for the bombing was that Yugoslavia was a lone holdout in Europe to the political and economic programs of the Clinton administration and its allies’ (Chomsky, 2008: 45). In this case, using the concept of evil raises questions in deciding whether NATO intervention had indeed humanitarian reasons for justifying their intervention.

One of the most essential questions that one must ask when analyzing the use of force on humanitarian grounds is the criterion of justifiability. What happened in the Kosovo War needs to be understood as an absolute necessity of reassigning our moral standards in legitimizing a humanitarian intervention. The narrative of legitimacy framed around the concept of evil is the result of the social construction, of the way we react to human rights violations. Our reaction should be then justified under fundamental concepts that bring clarity and not rootle ideas that produce errors. If “evil has no roots” (Arendt cited in May Schott, 2009: 123), if it is only a superficial approach to the discourse of humanitarian intervention, then we cannot use it to justify violence. We need a deeper understanding to be able to label a humanitarian intervention legitimate. ‘Or must we also understand humanitarian intervention as perhaps justifiable but never legitimate?’ (May Schott, 2009: 135)

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Blair, Tony, A New Generation Draws the Line (Newsweek, 1999)

Chomsky, Noam, ‘Humanitarian Imperialism: The New Doctrine of Imperial

Right’, Monthly Review, 4th ser., 60, (2008), 22-50

Cole, Philip, The Myth of Evil: Demonizing the Enemy, (Edinburgh: Edinburgh

University Press, 2006)

Havel, Václav, ‘Protecting people from tyranny of a state sovereignty’, in NATO,

Europe, and the security of democracy: Václav Havel selected speeches, articles, and interviews, 1990-2002, ed. by Luboš Dobrovský, translated by Alexandra

Brabcová et al. (Pardubice: Theo Publishing, 2002) Schott, Robin May, ‘Just

War and the Problem of Evil’, Hypatia, 23rd ser., 2 (2008) 122-140

A Salad or A Stew: Re-seeing The Hundred Foot Journey

SOPHIA LIN

How can a movie about inclusiveness and racial tolerance promote stratification and racism? Released in 2014 and directed by Swedish director, Lasse Hallström, The Hundred Foot Journey is exactly a movie of such paradoxical nature. It tells the success story of a talented Indian cook, Hassan, whose family moves from India to a little town in France to start an Indian restaurant. Fascinated by the French restaurant across the street, Hassan starts learning and soon masters the French cuisine. He becomes an extremely successful chef in Paris and lives happily ever after with his French sweetheart Marguerite. At a first glance, one may see this movie as a cliché that celebrates diversity and denounces discrimination through characters like Jean-Pierre, a xenophobic French chef who sets the Indian restaurant on fire and is then fired by his boss. However, this essay argues that the movie does the exact opposite: it reflects and promotes social stratification and Orientalism, making a coercive argument about assimilation. This essay will draw on cultural critic Edward W. Said’s theory of Orientalism and sociologist Pierre Bourdieu’s theory of taste. Said defines Orientalism as “a way of seeing that imagines, emphasizes, exaggerates and distorts differences” between the Western world and the Eastern world, while Bourdieu argues that taste is a marker of social class and “social subjects…distinguish themselves by the distinctions they make” (11, 6). These two theories will aid an understanding of The Hundred Foot Journey and the discriminative, Orientalist argument it makes.

This movie marks French taste as the superior one that’s associated with higher social class while associating Indian taste with the inferior lower class. When Hassan’s family brings their family recipes and savory Indian food to their Maison Mumbai across the street from the Michelin-star French restaurant, the owner of the French restaurant, Madame Mallory, says that they have also brought “the death of good taste in St. Antonio” (00:41:1700:41:19). The movie uses parallel editing to create a juxtaposition of the

French restaurant and Maison Mumbai on its first night of business. On the Indian side, customers are tricked by Hassan’s father; food is butchered in an open kitchen that is permeated with smoke and doesn’t seem very sanitary; dishes are served on big plates without much aesthetics (00:40:24-00:40:45). The movie also ‘spices it up’ with Bollywood music playing so loudly in Maison Mumbai that it can be heard clearly in the French restaurant (00:40:5000:41:01). Meanwhile, across the street, elegant string music is played quietly in the background; people are chatting in a genteel manner; food is served with delicate plate representation (00:40:17-00:40:23).

Bourdieu sees these different tastes as the classifiers of people. In his book Distinction, he argues that “taste classifies, and it classifies the classifier” (6). In other words, the things we choose put us into our respective class, and in this way, our preferences and tastes also determine and define what the groups and classifications are. For example, some people like to go to the museum, and by doing so, they are classified into the higher social class that is associated with the appreciation of fine art. And in turn, the art-loving social class also distinguishes itself from others. Similarly, the representation of the two restaurants in this movie doesn’t just mark their distinction in respective ethnic backgrounds, but also renders French taste and those who possess such taste as more refined, civilized and correct compared to the Indian counterpart across the street. Bourdieu also points out that such representation of taste is the agent of social stratification. Through Bourdieu’s words, one can see that the French taste possessed by Madame Mallory and her classy customers is “sublimated, refined, disinterested, gratuitous, distinguished” that is “forever closed to the profane” — the Indians in this movie whose taste is depicted as “lower, coarse, vulgar, venal, servile” (7). The world of French cuisine is “the sacred sphere of culture,” (7) as Bourdieu calls it, created by the superiority of the French taste. A clear separation of class is thereby created in this movie with the French standing on top of the Indian family, and this “sacred sphere” does not allow intruders unless they break into the sphere by assimilating into the French culture and adopting the French taste.

The story of The Hundred Foot Journey doesn’t just separate French taste and Indian taste into two unequal classes; it does so in a racist, Orientalist way. In

his book Orientalism, Edward Said describes Orientalism as “a way of seeing that imagines, emphasizes, exaggerates and distorts differences of Arab people and cultures as compared to that of Europe and the US. It often involves seeing Arab culture as exotic, backward, uncivilized and at times dangerous” (12). He argues that “the Orient” does not actually exist; instead, it is produced by European culture (12). This means that the western world construed the notion of “the Orient” based on the dramatized and twisted differences between ‘us’ Europeans and ‘those’ non-Europeans to assert their superiority over the so-called “Orient.”

Orientalist exaggeration and distortion prevail in The Hundred Foot Journey. An instance of this can be found in the mayor’s word of caution for Madam Mallory when she files a complaint about noise coming from the Indian restaurant: “These people are different. They are not French. Some in the village, the worst sort, say ugly things about them. Be careful you are not seen in sympathy with them [the Indians]” (00:41:34-00:42:08). If heard or read without any context, this ‘word of caution’ sounds like a warning against some sort of terrorists or violent gangsters. But in reality, it is a warning against Hassan’s family — an ordinary Indian family. The exaggeration in the mayor’s words is exactly what Said is pointing at, although in the context of the perception of Indians instead of Arabs. Similarly, the movie distorts and exoticizes Indian music, stripping away its playful and enjoyable characteristics and making it function like some obnoxious noise that Hassan’s father uses to provoke Madam Mallory (00:32:34-00:32:39). And even when Hassan’s father is not attempting any provocation, such as on their restaurant’s opening night, the Indian music is made loud and disturbing to their neighbors (00:40:50-00:41:01).

This movie not only shows class stratification and Orientalism in its story, but also promotes them by celebrating the upward social movement of Hassan and indicating that assimilation is the only way to success. The hundred-foot journey in the title of the movie refers to the one-way journey Hassan makes from the Indian restaurant to the French restaurant. This ‘journey’ is glorified throughout the story. Hassan starts out in the kitchen of his mother, cooking flavorful Indian dishes like samosa. After bringing his dishes to their Indian

restaurant in France, he is faced with Madam Mallory who doesn’t even see their restaurant as “a restaurant” (00:24:07-00:24:09). Now, as one may start hoping that this gifted Indian chef would promote his home cuisine that he seems to hold so dearly to his heart, Hassan instead falls in love with both French cuisine and the French girl Marguerite. He leaves his Indian restaurant and his box of Indian spices behind and walks to the French side of the road (01:19:20-01:20:00). At the end of the story, Hassan becomes a renowned chef—or more precisely—a renowned chef fully assimilated into the realm of French cuisine. Throughout the “Frenchization” or assimilation of Hassan, he becomes more and more distant from his cultural heritage and background, and also more and more successful. This reinforces and affirms the superiority of the French and the West, whose class is associated with more refined cuisine as well as success and fame. At the end of the story, Hassan stands next to Marguerite, declaring himself as the successor of the French restaurant. This time, they are more similar than different not only because they are wearing the same outfit as business partners but also, more importantly, because Hassan has fully adopted the French way (01:51:07-01:51:24). It’s important to distinguish that he adopts rather than adapts to the French way. He becomes one of the French rather than harmoniously living with them despite his differences. His appearance has changed to become more classy and chic; his cuisine has changed from the Indian dishes his mom has taught him to the French dishes; he himself has changed. He is almost completely stripped of his original cultural identity. The only bit of it left is the bit of Indian spices he adds into his dishes—something to spice them up without changing their French nature.

This movie seems to be painting an image of ‘the good outsider’—Hassan, who gives up his background to assimilate into the Western world and become an ‘insider.’ And this coercive argument about assimilation and ‘othering’ of all people and things that are not French may have its root in the assimilation policy in France since the eighteenth century. Hassan and his culinary journey of success are comparable to the Senegalese in the Four Communes and their way to acquire French citizenship in the eighteenth and nineteenth century. The Senegalese in the Four Communes had to conform to the French civil code in order to obtain French citizenship; similarly,

Hassan needs to throw away his Indian self and become “Frenchized” in order to succeed (Diouf 1). And this forced assimilation is still relevant today in French society. “If you want to become French, you speak French, you live like the French and you don’t try and change a way of life that has been ours for so many years,” said former French president Nicolas Sarkozy in 2016 (McPartland). And Hassan is the perfect follower of this doctrine delineated by Sarkozy.

The Hundred Foot Journey stands in the course of history as not only another clichéd movie, but also one that divides people into classes of higher and lower tastes, celebrates Orientalism, and depicts assimilation as the only way for upward social mobility. The dish cooked by this movie is not a bowl of salad, where different cultures coexist harmoniously; it is a pot of French stew where differences melt away, and what remains is forever the French taste of stew. This stew has been cooked for centuries in France and may continue sizzling for centuries to come.

WORKS CITED

Bourdieu, Pierre. Distinction: Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste. Routledge &

Kegan Paul Ltd., 1984.

Diouf, Mamadou. “The French Colonial Policy of Assimilation and the Civility of the Originaires of the Four Communes (Senegal): A Nineteenth Century

Globalization Project.” Development and Change, vol. 29, no. 4, 2002, pp. 671696., www.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/pdf/10.1111/1467-7660.00095.

McPartland, Ben. “‘Stop Telling Immigrants to Be French and Help It

Happen’” The Local, 23 Sept. 2016. www.thelocal.fr/20160923/stop-forcingimmigrants-to-be-french-and-help-it-happen.

Said, Edward W. Orientalism. Routledge & Kegan Paul Ltd., 1980.

The Hundred Foot Journey. Directed by Lasse Hallström, performances by Helen

Mirren, Om Puri, Manish Dayal and Charlotte Le Bon, DreamsWorks

Picture, 2014.

This photograph was shot at Al Bastakiya, also known as Dubai’s historical district or the place that preserves the memories of an era that takes us back to the formation of the federation of the Emirates. The first time I looked at these objects, I was surprisingly fascinated by the contrast it reflects between the “glamorous” and “old” Dubai. I found the way the TV, image frames and carpets were positioned very interesting and thought they were placed there on purpose but I was told that they were just abandoned a while ago. The idea behind this photograph is to show how Dubai is equally significant for its traditional lifestyle and culture but also for its modernity and gliz.

“The traditional modernity” by Rania Sakhi