When is Fiction Propaganda?

By Mike Duran

Hollywood has many secrets, but its political leanings are not one of them. We've grown accustomed to Bush-bashing, religion-loathing, overly-green actors using their platform to articulate their opinions. So the recent spate of anti-war films is not a big surprise. What is surprising is the reception, or lack thereof, many of these movies are receiving.

Films like Brian DePalma's, Redacted, Into the Valley of Elah, and Lions for Lambs (which garnered a miserable 25% rating at Rotten Tomatoes), are not only struggling at the box office, many critics are seeing them for what they are: too darned preachy. Apparently, we can handle Robert Redford as the Sundance Kid. But when he swaps his six-shooter for a bullhorn, that’s when we check out.

Agenda-driven art is a turnoff. Audiences want stories, not sermons; they want to see a good movie or attend a concert without being ambushed by a lecture.

Just ask Barbara Streisand. During her last American tour, she took the opportunity in between songs to denounce the war in Iraq, endorse certain political causes, and denigrate conservatives. It rankled many devoted fans. Shouts of “Shut up and sing!” could occasionally be heard from the audience.

But, from an artist’s perspective, is it really possible to separate art from agenda? One’s values, convictions and worldview will inevitably influence their creative expressions; our beliefs cannot be easily partitioned from our craft. Should we – can we -- really shut up and sing?

The forthcoming film adaptation of Philip Pullman’s >fantasy trilogy, His Dark Materials, entitled The Golden Compass, has stirred great debate amongst Christians. Pullman has been clear about his intentions from the start. Describing the trilogy to The Washington Post in 2001, he said, “I’m trying to undermine the basis of Christian belief.” Furthermore, the author has openly ridiculed C.S. Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia. “I loathe the ‘Narnia’ books,” Pullman has said in interviews. “I hate them with a deep and bitter passion...” In fact, he’s called the series, “one of the most ugly and poisonous things” he’s ever read. (For further discussion, Jeffrey Overstreet’s thoughts and the ensuing dialog at his Looking Closer Journal is highly recommended.)

Webster’s Dictionary Online defines “propaganda” as: “The spreading of ideas, information, or rumor for the purpose of helping or injuring an institution, a cause, or a person.” With this in mind, labeling Pullman’s fiction as “propaganda” might not be a stretch. The Dark Materials trilogy, as the author himself has said, is intended to spread “ideas [and] information” (of course, we would call it lies and misinformation) for the purpose of “helping or injuring an institution, a cause, or a person” (in this case, “injuring” the Christian cause and the institution of the Church). That this “atheistic propaganda” is aimed at the most vulnerable and undiscerning of audiences makes it, potentially, all the more malevolent.

However, isn’t Christian Fiction attempting to do the same thing?

For example, Christian Retailing recently reported:

Best-selling children's fantasy author G.P. Taylor has issued an open letter to Americans warning of the dangers of the forthcoming movie The Golden Compass, an adaptation of British author Philip Pullman's novel Northern Lights (Scholastic) controversial for its anti-Catholic themes.

. . .In an e-mail message this week, Taylor, who lives in Scarborough, England, said that the reason he wrote Shadowmancer (Charisma House/Penguin Putnam) and the other books in the series was because of Pullman and "the damage that his books were likely to do to the Christian church."

Let me get this straight: Pullman wrote his books in response to Lewis' Narnia; Taylor wrote his books in response to Pullman's Compass. Pullman's intention is to undo the damage done by Christianity; Taylor's intention is to undo the damage done by atheism. But aren’t both authors doing the same thing? Apart from their radically divergent beliefs, they’re both using fiction as an ideological tool. Is this propaganda?

“Yeah, but OUR message is true,” retorts the Christian. “Atheism’s message is false!” Well, I agree. Nevertheless, atheists feel the same way about Christian Fiction: It’s propaganda intended to poison people’s minds.

Lon Allison, director of Illinois' Billy Graham Centre, said of Disney's The Lion, the Witch and the Wardobe, “We believe that God will speak the gospel of Jesus Christ through this film.” Philip Pullman desires the same thing for his film, only his gospel is secular. Nevertheless, we applaud Narnia being made into a movie but plan boycotts of The Golden Compass. Why? Christians have been proselytizing with their fiction for the longest, yet when an avowed atheist comes along doing the same thing, we get our proverbial panties in a bunch. Can someone say “double standard”?

Some argue that what makes Pullman's work so insidious is that it's aimed at children and young adults. But don't Christians do this all the time? Narnia's target audience is not soccer moms. It's children. Every Vacation Bible School that ever existed was built on the belief that young minds are impressionable, and shaping those young minds is essential to the propagation of our beliefs. So when we do it, it’s OK. But when an atheist does it, it’s wrong. I don’t get it.

In a democratic society, theism and atheism should be given equal platforms. Deal with it. Sure, it could be argued that the media is anti-religious, that Christians don't get a fair shake. It's a legitimate gripe. And while pluralism is both a result and benefit of a free society, the give and take of those belief systems can get rather sticky. Which worldview wins out is often a matter of persuasion, passion and persistence.

But what part should Christian Fiction play in this clash of ideas? And how do we keep it from becoming strictly propaganda?

I firmly believe that “Christian art” can and should compete with its secular counterparts. Yet that means backing off the boycotts and confidently entering the marketplace of ideas. Not only must we articulate a sound rationale for theism, as artists we must produce the type of quality work that gives evidence of its legitimacy. In the end, if Christianity cannot withstand the assault of atheism -- and films with anti-religious intentions like The Golden Compass -- then it doesn't deserve to stand.

Books and films impact and shape society and, like it or not, fiction has become part of the cultural / ideological arsenal. This creates a tremendous challenge for the Christian author. Why? Because readers want stories not sermons. This is something that, in fact, has worked against Pullman’s trilogy, for many readers have found it too didactic and agenda-driven. As much as we want to articulate our worldviews and give voice to the Gospel, we mustn’t let ourselves fall into the same trap and use our stories simply as vehicles for rebuttal, stealth diatribes and soliloquies disguised as fiction. Perhaps this means we should just shut up and sing. But then that depends on whether we have a song or a sermon.