TW: this article discusses racism.

It is safe to say by now that 2020 has been one of the most eventful and catastrophic years in recent history. The single fact that two military conflicts – the one that eventually de-escalated between Iran and the US in January, and the one that did break out at the border between Armenia and Azerbaijan very recently – went relatively unnoticed due to other, more pressing priorities, is indeed telling of 2020’s chaotic energy. And just when the Covid-19 pandemic appeared to signal the peak of disaster, the images of George Floyd’s killing at the hands of the police shook the world and ignited protests spreading beyond the United States. All of this happening amidst an ongoing climate crisis that is triggering ecological collapse, the lasting uncertainties surrounding Brexit, and the build up to what is perceived as a highly consequential presidential election for the United States.

“We need to confront the metaphorical and material griefs we have suffered this year to see how – if at all – we can progress. However, in these times the spaces for political and social reflection are very few.”

The point of this disheartening preamble is that such an eventful and bleak year calls for reflection. After the lockdowns, the economic crisis, the institutional brutality that we have been witnessing, we need to interrogate ourselves as a society. We need to confront the metaphorical and material griefs we have suffered this year to see how – if at all – we can progress. However, in these times the spaces for political and social reflection are very few. The theorists of post-politics had warned us about the menace of the neoliberal rationality, and how the marketisation and economisation of everything would result in hiding political issues. By falling for the neoliberal ethos, we lost the culture of confrontation – of genuine confrontation, not the disputes we have within our social media bubbles. The result is a lethargic general public that has lost the will to reflect, and whose free time can only be dedicated to a disengaged form of entertainment.

Someone, however, is still trying to bring socio-political conversations back to the public arena. On Saturday 5th September, the dance group, Diversity, made a special performance at Britain’s Got Talent. The powerful choreography shows a future in which a Black father narrates the events of 2020 to his son, with an emphasis on the #BlackLivesMatter movement. The performance features many impactful moments, such as dancers taking the knee at the words ‘I can’t breathe’, a re-enactment of George Floyd’s murder and dancers portraying police officers taking off their helmets and kneeling down. The audience of BGT was suddenly confronted by the violent imagery of structural racism – but also with hope, as the storytelling suggests that the child in the future has no memory of the past racist atrocities.

Although George Floyd’s killing is the main event evoked by the father, the context is clearly international, by no means removed from the British reality. It was therefore predictable, although infuriating, that the performance would generate controversy. Over 24,500 complaints were sent to Ofcom by enraged viewers advancing various points of criticism, including reverse racism and the performance’s endorsement of a political movement. In the end, Ofcom decided against sanctioning the show, invoking the principle of freedom of expression.

“In Western culture, art and entertainment is rooted in a specific civil function.”

This case offers blatant proof that our society has lost its sites of political reflection, and that we need to reclaim them. In Western culture, art and entertainment is rooted in a specific civil function. Ancient masterpieces such as the Athenian acropolis and the sculptures of Polykleitos were publicly commissioned with the expressly educational purpose of forming good citizens who would pursue the common good. Artists actively participated to the ‘affairs of the polis’, or ‘ta politika’, the Greek word from which the modern ‘politics’ derives. The development of Classical Greek drama further advanced this function of entertainment, especially in the case of tragedy. As Aristotle famously noted in his Poetics, by witnessing the staged violence and trauma from a mythical or historically remote past, the Athenian citizens could reflect on their own present. The theatre hence became a space of self-reflection for the political community.

It was the trauma provoked by watching the footage of George Floyd’s murder that led Diversity’s Ashley Banjo to reflect on the magnitude of collective suffering from racism, as he told the BBC this summer. Taking that trauma, which is a political matter in the purest essence of the term, to the general audience’s screen was not only brave. It was a true artistic gesture. That racism has no place in our society should not be a controversial opinion in 2020. Yet, when directly confronted with the issue, over 20,000 people felt menaced. In part, this was certainly due to sentiments of white guilt, indifference or plain racism, as shown by the reverse racism accusation. But the audience’s unwillingness to confront political issues in entertainment as a matter of principle arguably played a major role in the advancement of complaints. And these strong reactions should be exactly what motivates our fight to reclaim the civil function of entertainment.

Francesca Di Fazio

Image courtesy of Aleks Dorohovich on Unsplash. Image license found here. No changes were made to this image.

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