The world of entertainment is steadily developing new and comfortable narratives within which it can wrap
societal discontent and glorify political inaction. One battle after the other recently came out in theatres. The
film was written and directed by Paul Thomas Anderson, one of the most universally acclaimed directors of
the Hollywood avant garde. For this production, PTA recruited not one but two colossal figures in the
entertainment industry of the last twenty years. First and foremost: Leonardo DiCaprio in the lead role. Big
Leo, Oscar winning actor and-more recently-proud co-funder of a luxury hotel in Israeli-occupied Palestine.
Secondly, but of no less importance, Johnny Greenwood: Radiohead guitarist and composer and long time
collaborator of PTA, as well as the spouse of an Israeli woman and a staunch supporter of world peace and
cross-cultural artistic collaboration.
Well then, what does one do when they discover that they’ve financed these people? Perhaps go home and,
after a healthy session of self-flagellation with the help of some DIY medieval torture instruments, beg Allah
for forgiveness as they drift to sleep. But even that, dear reader, would be too easy. If One battle after the
other was just another work of great artistic and aesthetic merit, a little catholic guilt and penance would
perhaps suffice. This film, however, perfectly epitomises what the Great American Circus has been feeding
us for quite some time: the ideological pacifier of Art-washing.
What is Art-washing?
A close cousin of white-washing, the term refers to an ideological attitude aimed at deflecting from
accountability when a person or organisation overtly associates with problematic, criminal or outright
malevolent entities, calling upon the neutrality of artwork as a defence. As a lifelong Radiohead fan, I was
introduced to this concept in a video essay by Youtuber Square Cymbals – highly recomended.
Years ago, under a lot of media pressure to cancel their concerts in Israel, Radiohead avoided the boycott
under the pretext that People are People, Music is Music and Art is Art, and members of the band have,
throughout the years, played several shows in Apartheid Israel. Now, dear multimillionaire rockstars, the
existence of these people and the sociopolitical infrastructure they uphold are almost entirely predicated on
the suffering and abuse of another People. If you can afford a Radiohead concert in Tel Aviv, it means you
are a first class citizen, and in the shadow of a Nation that benefits from this status, there is another whichdespite loving your music, will never be able to enjoy it in a live setting. Does anyone remember that fantastic
Radiohead concert in Ramallah refugee camp? Me neither.
When we watch One battle after the other, we’re met the sensationalisation of a revolutionary armed struggle.
Adapted from Vineland, a Thomas Pynchon novel, the story of this film is one of tenacious struggle, a violent
uprising against an openly racist, ethnonationalist authoritarian regime; a fight against tyranny where our
heroes are united by their diversity, steadfast in their acceptance of the Other regardless of creed, race or
cultural background. These are the French 75, these are the good guys: left-wing radicals, defenders of
human rights, powder-keg anarchists against the White supremacist technocrats. And what an unforgettable
performance by Big Leo. Good Lord: that riveting soundtrack, produced by one of the greatest composers
of our time, his majesty Johnny Greenwood. What an ecstatic masterpiece these geniuses have given us.
Do you see the problem? If not, understanding the role of media in shaping our political consciousness is
key to creating a discourse and a cultural landscape that can combat the rising authoritarian climate we find
ourselves in. To simply accept a business-as-usual state of affairs while privately purporting values of defiance
against a broken system is not neutrality. Centrism is and always has been a very important item in the
authoritarian toolkit. There is a quote from the 2020 videogame Disco Elysium which might help us
understand why: Liberals don’t really have beliefs. Sometimes they stumble on one, like on a child’s toy left on
the carpet. The toy must be put away immediately and the child reprimanded. Centrism isn’t change, not even
incremental change, it is control over yourself and the world. Exercise it. Look up at the sky, at the dark shapes of
fighter jets and helicopters hanging there. Ask yourself: is there anything sinister in all of this? And then answer:
no. God is in his Heaven. Everything is normal on Earth.
This is what you should feel when you see DiCaprio shooting at ICE militias along with his iconic sidekick
Benicio Del Toro. And you know what: I also thought this was the coolest shit I’ve seen in theaters in a very
long time. I felt like a teenager who’s just found out about bolsheviks and could finally watch an October
revolution unfold on the screen with modern, relatable heroes and cutting edge visual effects. The
immediate reaction was excitement: ‘Yes! Yes Leo! You might be a middle aged alcoholic, but you sure as shit
know how to blow those mfs up! Viva la revolucion!’ Something wasn’t right. Something was awry. While in
the theater, as well as shortly after watching the film, a part of me wanted to simply separate the film I’d seen
from the reality behind its creation: I was pacified, I was ready to intellectualise my way out of its
problematic aspects and forget about the whole thing. I even said to my friend something along the lines of:
‘Oh, this was so great: shame about zionism though’. It is precisely this instinctive refusal to engage with
complexity that characterises both centrist and ultra-right wing narratives.
Italian author and neuroscientist Simona Ruffino concisely detailed a bunch of rhetorical strategies that the
authoritarian Right uses to create consensus in a recent instagram post (Yes, I am using an instagram post as
my source, in case you were somehow persuaded that this was legitimate and savvy journalism). One of the
strategies which she points to is the constant vilification of ideas of peace, inclusion, diversity and legality.
Why? Because these values require an effort and an active participation on the part of citizens and consumers
in order to be understood and applied to our societal structure. Within right wing rhetoric, as well as
neoliberal rhetoric, complexity= evil. Framing complexity as overcomplicated and unnecessary allows a higher
authority to step in and present itself as the only one capable of managing that complexity. If the problem is
framed as illegal immigrants, instead of institutions lack the infrastructure to functionally deal with
immigration because they uphold economic inequality, the problem is simplified, and the solution is therefore
a simple one: Deport them, sink the boats, put them in concentration camps, kill them. Who’s gonna do that?
Don’t worry, we’ll handle it: just vote for us. Oh and, by the way, just vote for us this once, and you will
never have to vote again.
This attitude in electoral politics is mirrored in the consumption of artwork: when a spectator’s effort to
interpret the art is no longer required, art simply ends up believing things in one’s stead. Walter Benjamin’s
The work of art in the age of mechanical reproduction is an essay concerned with defining an artwork through
its relationship with a productive system. Art which comes from and is in service of a productive system
with rigid values- like authoritarianism- can be mechanically reproduced and repeated because it lacks
interactivity. The contribution and participation of the spectator is not required for the creation of
meaning. This kind of art is prescriptive, i.e. it tells you what to believe, its meaning is explicit, unyielding and
fixed. When there is no dialogue between the spectator and the artwork, the spectator themselves becomes
its means of reproduction, they are nothing but a receptacle for the artwork’s intent. When the
meaning-making mechanism is unidirectional, an artwork has no Aura.
In Capitalist realism, Mark Fisher borrows a concept from Pfaller: interpassivity. Within a consumer society,
there is an interaction between product and consumer, i.e. the consumer consumes the product, the product
is consumed. Interpassivity is when an experience or an interaction is delegated to a third party. It’s like being
ill while all your friends are going to the bar and saying: ‘Have a drink for me too’. Similarly, we often
delegate having anticapitalist beliefs and acting against the establishment to a third party: ‘Anticapitalist’
art. Virginia Woolf believed that no fascist regime could produce art that was truly meaningful or
worthwhile, and she may have been right in most cases across the 20th century. In the 21st, the
establishment can create products that are meaningful according to an infinite range of beliefs. In an
extraordinarily effective inversion, art-washing lets us feel safe in our anti-establishment tendencies, while
perpetuating the exact same dynamics of oppression and servitude that we claim to be against: rooting for
the revolutionaries while zionists go out to dinner with our money. Voici the spell of Liberal Zionism:
permission to be against apartheid while gorging on the art that it produces, directly or vicariously.
When Thom Yorke releases a both-sided statement about a genocide, attempting to justify his association
with the nation responsible for it, he perpetuates the same simplification that is used to further that nation’s
agenda. Centrism is a tool of oppression. So, when you finally get your hands on those spectacularly
expensive tickets for the next Radiohead Tour, when you’re shaking your head to the rhythm of Idioteque,
remember:
Ice age coming
Ice age coming
Let me hear both sides
Let me hear both sides
Ice age coming
Ice age coming
Throw them on the fire
Throw them on the fire
We’re not scaremongering
This is REALLY happening
Mobiles chirping, mobiles chirping
Take the money and run
Take the money and run
Take the money
And don’t say you didn’t know.
The revolution will not be televised, not even by PTA.
