The dark side of art

In the opening scenes of "Zero Dark Thirty," a CIA operative is shown repeatedly torturing a terrorist for information on Osama Bin Laden's courier. The prisoner is water-boarded, put on a dog leash, starved, beaten up and packed into a wooden cage. The cage door is closed and the screen goes dark. What happens next is left to the imagination of the audience…
The film, based on first hand accounts of the hunt for bin Laden (as the credit states), has been mired in controversy, receiving both accolades (for its cinematic quality) and brickbats. Much of the criticism has centered around Oscar-winning director Kathryn Bigelow who is accused of portraying brutal interrogation techniques as effective means for gathering vital information on terrorists. However, several reviewers have contradicted this view as unfair and misplaced. In their opinion the film depicts that clever detective work followed by a heroic Navy Seal operation ... and not merely torture ... helped track and kill bin Laden.
Let me clarify that this column is not a critique of "Zero Dark Thirty." The movie, however, raises some serious questions related to the role of art in society. Hence, I considered it worthwhile to probe into the broader theme of art's role in changing and challenging people's perceptions by taking a bold stand on ethical issues like torture.
For me the film's verdict on torture is, at best, ambiguous -- since it leaves the issue open to audience interpretation. Perhaps this ambiguity is intentional on the director's part. While publicly stating her belief that "torture is reprehensible" Bigelow has defended the film as depicting "the truth." She has claimed that she remained true to history in portraying the harsh interrogation methods employed by the CIA to obtain information on Osama bin Laden's whereabouts.
The controversy surrounding "Zero Dark Thirty" thus raises an important question about "artistic license" -- more precisely about the extent to which an artist can veer from cold reality dictated by facts and take an independent moral stance. In short, one can legitimately ask: Is an artist's job confined to that of a "narrator" of historical facts? Does she not have an obligation to present an informed point of view on key issues that impact society?
Like most of us, artists do not work in a vacuum. The political and social climate affects their creativity. However they, in turn, can influence audiences by providing a basis for introspection and dialogue. It is my firm belief that if art is not aligned to a social or political cause, it becomes sterile and in the long run stagnant.
Historically, musicians, authors and filmmakers have been instrumental in initiating political and social change, since they have the ability to express themselves with proficiency and conviction. An example close to our home and heart is embedded in the history of Bangladesh. Secular nationalistic music, poetry and even paintings not only spearheaded the Bangladesh freedom movement but also played a major role in disseminating the idea of an independent homeland -- "Shonar Bangla."
In eras past, most art survived and thrived because of state patronage. Even so, artists managed to express their views through subtle, even esoteric, messages. Fortunately, in this rather "permissive age" of social media, artists can choose to be independent of government or private support and express their views with impunity.
Hence Bigelow's insouciance in the treatment of torture in "Zero Dark Thirty" is surprising, to put it mildly. She defends her case by claiming that objectivity is an integral part of artistic freedom and that her "depiction is not endorsement." True, but by "depicting" that torture yields results the movie has created the impression that the end justifies the means.
Besides, it is a known fact that there is a large segment of the American population, including some members of the administration, who continue to question the justification and effectiveness of enhanced interrogation methods. Any story depicting the use of torture as an information-gathering tool should have included these voices of dissent. Bigelow's narrative fails to do so. This omission is tantamount to tacit support, since there can be no neutral ground on a subject that has such a powerful impact on humanity.
Bigelow may be a great filmmaker, but, in not giving a clear signal on a key moral issue like torture, she falls short of her responsibility as an artist.

The writer is a renowned Rabindra Sangeet exponent and a former World Bank employee.