Coming Soon At A Protest Site Near You!
This successful format made its appearance in Thailand and Hong Kong, where protesters adopted the three-finger salute alongside signs and slogans in English for the sake of global audiences. Although this salute dates back to the French Revolution, those who started using it in Hong Kong, Bangkok, and more recently in Yangon, knew it only as the ‘Hunger Games’ salute. One wonders if the Myanmar representative to the United Nations who raised the three fingers while addressing the General Assembly was also a fan of the Hollywood franchise, and whether he condones arson and street violence. He may have lost his job as a diplomat, but his stunt was applauded by Western media – the same media that seemed pleased protesters “channelled their inner Katniss” when they were turning inner cities into a war zone. Photojournalists staged, framed and digitally edited images with dramatic light effects to foster emotional identification with the rebels – to the extent that one could no longer tell whether these pictures were taken on a movie set or during a riot. Such spectacularization of protests should raise ethical questions about contemporary photojournalism, but this is unlikely to happen when those who commission and reward this work are actively marketing colour revolutions themselves.
Crises of Identity
While protests are seen by those who take part in them as a vehicle for global recognition, we witness an erosion of the boundary between the Self and its reflection with narcissism, alienation and loss of identity as tragic by-products. When Hong Kong protesters proudly claim “We are not Chinese” – we see a confirmation of this alienation. And when Joshua Wong, the poster boy of this inauthentic “Revolution of Our Times”, declared “being famous is part of my job” in the Netflix production, Joshua:Teenager vs Superpower, we should pay attention because his words reveal not only an inflated sense of self-importance (usually a telling tale of a narcissistic character), but also a peculiar type of political subjectivity that feeds on fame.
Joshua Wong was picked and groomed for the role of ‘symbol of protest’ not despite but because of his awkwardness. This skinny, chunky glasses-wearing nerd looks like a stereotypical victim of school bullying. If Joshua Wong is cast as a Victim Hero, it follows that the Superpower he is up against in this asymmetrical fight must be a bully. Here we have all the elements of a conventional underdog story where the hero sets out to destroy an evil of some kind, generally larger or greater than himself. It’s no coincidence that Joshua, the Bible reader who loves superheroes makes frequent reference to David and Goliath and Star Wars: they follow the same basic plot, as do The Hunger Games.
Availing himself of ghost writers for his books, featuring in US-funded docudramas, appearing on the cover of foreign magazines, spouting scripted slogans, it’s hardly any surprise that Joshua Wong could reach international fame. By doing so unwittingly he revealed that the make-believe politics he is involved in have a lot in common with show business and its weaponization. In such “revolutions”, the power to create a crisis merges with the power to control the production and circulation of narratives about that crisis. This subsequently translates into the power to direct and coordinate the response. Fiction ignites the imagination, frames the story and becomes enmeshed in the ensuing social reality. As Jean Baudrillard noted over three decades ago, in the age of hyperreality the image/ simulation dominates, and reality is replaced by false images to such an extent that one can no longer distinguish between the real and the unreal.