Baghdad: The bumbling young militant first drops the rocket launcher on the toes of his boss before taking aim and firing toward a military checkpoint outside of an Iraqi town — not realising he’s fired it backward at his leader.
The Looney Tunes-style cartoon targeting Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant (Isil) comes after its militants have swept across large swaths of Syria and Iraq, declaring their own self-styled caliphate while conducting mass shootings of their prisoners. The group cheers its advances and beheadings in slickly produced internet videos.
In response, television networks across the Middle East have begun airing cartoons and comedy programmes using satire to criticise the group and its claims of representing Islam. And while not directly confronting the group’s battlefield gains, the shows challenge the legitimacy of its claims and chip away at the fear some have that the extremists are unstoppable.
“These people are not a true representation of Islam and so by mocking them, it is a way to show that we are against them,” said Nabeel Assaf, one of the producers and writers of Lebanon’s “Ktir Salbe Show,” which has challenged the group. “Of course it’s a sensitive issue, but this is one way to reject extremism and make it so the people are not afraid.”
Satire has long been a force in Arab culture, beginning first with its ancient poetry. Indirect criticism once cloaked in self-censorship exploded out into the open during Arab Spring revolts. Even in the midst of Syria’s bloody civil war, the country’s renowned black, satirical humour has continued.
Isil, born out the Syrian war, now finds itself challenged in a cultural war after its gains. The top Islamic authority in Egypt recently began an online campaign asking journalists not to call the group an “Islamic State.” Comedians have followed suit.
In one skit produced by the “Ktir Salbe Show,” a taxi driver picks up a militant who rejects listening to radio because it didn’t exist in the earliest days of Islam, a knock on Isil’s literal take on the Quran. The driver offers to turn on the air conditioning, but that too is rejected. The militant finally criticises him for answering a mobile phone.
Fed up, the driver asks: “Were there taxi cabs in the earliest days?”
“No, 1,000 times no!” the passenger answers. The driver responds by kicking out the militant and telling him to wait for a camel instead.
In Syria, comedic news programmes also target Isil, with its presenters disguising themselves out of fears of retaliation. In Iraq, an animated programme on state television depicted a slew of characters on the run from the Iraqi military, including young Isil militants and old Saddam Hussain-era officials.
“We are all against these terrorist organisations,” said Ala’a Al Majedi of the state-run Al-Iraqiya channel. “Comedy is one way to raise awareness.”
Even the dark videos of mass shootings conducted by the Isil have become comedic fodder. Palestinian television channel Al Falastiniya aired a skit showing two militants shoot Muslim civilians for their lack of knowledge on the number of times to kneel during prayers, all the while reminiscing over the beautiful women and best party neighbourhoods they’d visited in Beirut.
When a Jordanian Christian approaches, the two militants begin fighting each other over who gets to shoot him — each wanting the “blessing” for himself. Terrified, the man suffers a fatal heart attack, leaving the militants devastated.
