With today’s highly politicized world and rapid-fire technology, we have the unique opportunity to watch the real-time shift of the cultural memory surrounding the War on Terror. Most of us in this class, myself included, weren’t alive immediately before or after 9/11, let alone old enough to remember any first-hand accounts. As young kids, we had no choice but to receive the narratives passed down to us by—for some—a distinctly Western or American perspective. But with the advent of the Internet and social media and the volatile nature of both, it became difficult to keep track of culture (trends, fads, memes, etc.) because what entered our scope of attention was shoved out with more incoming information, whatever it may have been. Our culture morphed into something that wasn’t easily defined by what it was, but more so by what it wasn’t. It is vastly easier to identify the things that rub us the wrong way than those that are deemed the norm and thus fall under our overworked radar. Sanne Frandsen cites Molly Andrews in Considering counter-narratives: Narrating, resisting, making sense defining counter-narratives as “…the stories which people tell and live which offer resistance to, either implicitly or explicitly, to dominant cultural narratives.” To answer Dr. Luger’s third prompt about cultural memory, counter-narratives in the West have piled one on top of another in order to grab the attention of an audience. This frantic “vying”, as Sturken writes, comes from “divisions and conflicting agendas” as more and more of these counter-narratives come to light. We are trying to amend previously held assumptions. Sea Prayer is a video essay affectionately addressed to the narrator’s son, Marwan, recounting the memories of a war-torn Syria, from which their family had to flee. Butterfly: From Refugee to Olympian – My Story of Rescue, Hope, and Triumph is a similar account of another Syrian refugee, Yusra Mardini, who, along with her sister and two others, swam over three hours to bring a sinking boatful of refugees to the coast of Greece. And My Name Is Khan, a movie about a man’s journey seeking retribution for the death of his stepson as he advocates for Muslims in a post-9/11 America. The titular line “My name is Khan” is followed by “and I am not a terrorist.” These are examples I have personally watched and read, but there is surely more out there. The underscoring theme of all these narratives follows the resilience and triumph of refugees and people of Middle Eastern descent in the face of overwhelming villainization and hatred, and the effect is distinctly human. In contrast, Redeployment depicts cruel and brutal imagery; killing dogs both on and off the battlefield is not something Americans want to hear of their soldiers who they believe are fighting for their freedom.

The goal of counter-narrative is a disentanglement from our stagnant beliefs. The prevalence of counter-narratives varies in their given genre, but in the context of war and innocent lives, the responsibility for truth is especially important. We have to hold ourselves responsible for our dominant narratives no matter where they came from.

References

Andrews, Molly: Considering counter-narratives: Narrating, resisting, making sense

Frandsen, Sanne: Counter-narratives and Organization

Hosseini, Khaled: Sea Prayer

Johan, Karan (director): My Name is Khan

Klay, Phil: Redeployment

Mardini, Yusra: Butterfly: From Refugee to Olympian – My Story of Rescue, Hope, and Triumph

Sturken, Marita: Tangled Memories