Killjoy PEMRA’s myopic ban
Pakistan seems to be steadily gliding down the ban-everything slope. Another episode of censorship was witnessed just last month when the Pakistan Electronic Media Regulatory Authority (PEMRA) asked local television channels to censor onscreen displays of affection, effective immediately.
According to the directive issued on October 20, “hugs, caress scenes, extramarital relations, vulgar or bold dressing, bed scenes and intimacy of married couples” are to be shown no more in drama serials for such acts are being “glamorised” in “utter disregard to Islamic teachings and culture of Pakistani society.”
While the memo regarding intimacy being un-Islamic or against our nation’s culture was perhaps lost in our mail, the fact of the matter is that it’s legally being deemed as such by an institution with a long history of banning almost anything it wants. Two years ago, the organization banned anchors from giving their “opinions” on talk shows.
Last year, PEMRA went on to issue several notices against drama serials Pyar Ke Sadqay and Ishqiya, citing that they offended cultural values and that PEMRA had received countless complaints from viewers. During that time, another notice was issued against drama serial Jalan, which was ultimately banned from airing after its thirteenth episode. This practice is not new since a few years back, the highly acclaimed drama serial Udaari, a socially aware show that depicted the atrocities of child abuse, was also issued a notice for “immoral content.”
Right on brand for the organisation, the recent PEMRA notification about displays of intimacy mentioned that it had received many complaints from Pakistan’s “general public”, who expressed concern not only through government portals like Pakistan Citizen Portal and PEMRA’s Complaints Call Centre, but also social media platforms regarding the “objectionable” content shown in Pakistani TV serials.
Interestingly enough, the institution seems to be more swayed by alleged public complaints as opposed to its own autonomous structural code, assuming that there is one established by them. In the face of such reasoning, one can’t help but wonder whether PEMRA has the best interest of every civilian at heart.
Considering their past trajectory, it’s almost as though sentiments of the public steer the organisation in every which way they want, with no sight of transparency or details of its procedural matters. In our current socio-political landscape that wages a war against anything seemingly liberal or different, along with several groups of minorities, it’s only a matter of time that the so called “general opinion” rears its head towards depictions of different faiths and their practices being shown in the media.
There is no doubt that these bans are religiously fuelled, presumably by the right wing, who apparently find anything remotely attributed towards love or romance as harmful or outright un-Islamic. While intimacy may be a priority on their ban list, the numerous visual displays of violence towards women, domestic abuse or depictions of rape in our drama serials have not even raised an eyebrow.
This directive alone is enough to dismantle our society’s collective apathy at the seams for it begs one obvious question; if the alleged indecency led to an enormous amount of complaints which spurred PEMRA into action, why were the countless incidents of domestic abuse not enough? Are we to assume that any display of affection is against our culture whereas violence is very much alive as a striking part of it? It is the very normalisation and glorification of domestic abuse and disregard for visual models of healthy marital relations on television that sets us apart in a land of hypocrisy and untethered irony. Sadism is free real estate in the media; in Bay Qasoor a vivid suicide was easily portrayed onscreen, and in Sangat a grotesque rape did not lead to any outrage from these so called aggrieved viewers.
What, pray tell, is the real culture of Pakistani society? Are we to assume that the alleged undefined indecency takes precedence for these viewers whereas the aforementioned acts of violence are not even granted an afterthought or a semblance of disgust from its viewers? The latter may not have even been a bone of contention for it is so normalised in our society that it can be transcribed as our culture, whereas loving acts between reel-life partners or married individuals are so abhorrently unwatchable that it needs to be banned altogether.
As a nation, we have been exposed to our fair share of violence; from bombings to terrorist attacks, extra-judicial killings to calls for public hangings, honour killings to rape. Our predisposition to normalising violence may be innate to us, for it has materialized into generational trauma stemming from Partition, and fuelled by the fiery grip of sensationalism. The culture we are so adamantly trying to protect is not one of love, it is simply the commonality of hate.
The fact that PEMRA received “numerous complaints from the general public,” is honestly not farfetched for our society that has even latched onto a Turkish drama star’s social media and fatuously critiqued her for wearing “revealing clothes.” If we can find the confidence to dictate to another country’s (read: secular country) actress for having the audacity to not abide by our nation’s supposed “cultural values”, we can surely do much more in our own “sovereign” land.
We need to have a long hard think as to where we are headed as a nation. While drawing a clichéd parallel to Orwell’s 1984 is practically mandatory in such discussions, it is not one that comes unwarranted. In a totalitarian regime, subjugation of the media is the first step towards establishing orthodox control.
While these bans being thrown left and right may seem classic Pakistani behaviour, this recurring selective ban culture demands attention, because it reveals the deepening cracks in our society.
The writer is Editor Entertainment, Bol News