Abigail Derecho
University of California, Berkeley
Performing Transnational Anti-Fandom: Filipinos Protesting
The Daily Show and
Desperate Housewives Online
On September 18, 2007,
The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, a massively popular "fake news" program that airs four nights a week on the Comedy Central cable network, featured a five-minute "investigative report" by senior correspondent Samantha Bee entitled, "Is America Ready for a Woman President?" In the segment, Bee states, "Other countries have had girl leaders for years. And while Golda Meir fended off Egypt, Corazon Aquino faced down dictators and Margaret Thatcher kicked communism's ass....Still, they
are women." While Bee mentioned each of the three female former heads-of-state, photos of the leaders were shown with captions scrawled across them, in a style made famous by gossip blogger Perez Hilton, who writes short, punchy captions across the photos of celebrity mishaps that he includes on perezhilton.com. The photo of Golda Meir had "Oy!" scribbled across it, the photo of Margaret Thatcher (with Thatcher's head photoshopped onto an image of Britney Spears' body, from a famous shot of Spears exiting a car while she was wearing a short dress with no underwear) had "Oops" written on it, and Corazon Aquino's photo had "Slut!" written on it, with a heart punctuating the exclamation point and two additional hearts drawn on either side of Aquino's face.
On September 30, 2007, ABC aired the first episode of the fourth season of hit drama
Desperate Housewives. In the episode, one of the primary characters, Susan Mayer, portrayed by Teri Hatcher, says to her OB-GYN, before the doctor presents her with some test results, "Okay, before we go any further, can I check these diplomas? Because I just want to make sure they're not from some med school in the Philippines."
These two jokes, one referring to a Filipino icon and the other to the Philippine's system of higher education, appearing in two U.S. television programs just 12 days apart, provoked an immediate and widespread response from Filipinos around the world, and from highly-ranked officials in the Philippine government. News stories, protests, and petitions circulated around the globe in the weeks following the airing of the Sept. 18
Daily Show and Sept. 30
Desperate Housewives episodes. A great deal of the response was organized and published online. News of the "Filipino jokes" on the U.S. programs, and the backlash they engendered, were published by official online news portals such as Inquirer.net, the Internet edition of the Philippines' most widely read newspaper, the
Philippine Daily Inquirer (http://www.inquirer.com.ph/abt.asp) and GMANews.tv, the news website of GMA-7, the Philippines' No. 1 television network, as well on numerous blogs, YouTube, and PetitionOnline.com, a site that enables users to write petitions and collect signatures on the Internet.
In an eight-day period, between October 2 and October 9, 2007, 13 news stories and numerous reader comments about the so-called slurs appeared on Inquirer.net and GMANews.tv. The story was then reported by online Western news services, including CBC.ca, the Internet portal of the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation; BBC News' bbc.co.uk; eonline.com, the official website of E! Entertainment Television; SFGate.com, the online portal of
The San Francisco Chronicle; the Internet edition of
The Los Angeles Times; and the Associated Press, whose write-up of the matter was run on well-trafficked political blog The Huffington Post and Variety.com. These mainstream news outlets picked up the story from the blogosphere and viewers' e-mails. The earliest account to be published, GMANews.tv's story of October 2, bore the title, "Pinoys [a Tagalog term for Filipinos] seek apology from 'Desperate Housewives,'" and stated that the site "received e-mails from concerned viewers who found the remark [made by Hatcher's character on the ABC show] insulting to many Filipinos. Some blogs have also discussed the negative remark made about the Philippines." An Inquirer.net article from October 4 reported that "Filipinos, especially healthcare professionals in the US and the Philippines, were outraged by the remark [on
DH]. E-mails expressing outrage circulated among Filipinos all over the world. Blogs and websites denounced the remark."
In other words, the issue of interest to the mainstream press was not a set of controversial mentions of Filipinos by U.S. television programs, but the rapid organization of Internet activism that followed the airing of the
Desperate Housewives (which I will henceforth refer to as "
DH") and
Daily Show episodes. By October 4, five days after the
DH episode and two days after GMANews.tv, an online petition seeking an apology from ABC for the line in
DH had accrued more than 30,000 names. An article on GMANews.tv ran that day calling the television episode "an international incident, with reports on it topping Philippines news shows and drawing newspaper headlines." The article also pointed out the important role played by viral video in allowing more potential protesters to view the clips in question: "Filipinos could judge the scene [in
DH] for themselves when it was posted on YouTube." Although ABC Studios and the producers of
DH issued an apology on October 3, stating that "There was no intent to disparage the integrity of any aspect of the medical community in the Philippines," the author of the online petition, 29-year-old Filipino-American New York resident Kevin Nadal, called for the removal of the piece of dialogue from future airings of the episode and from the future DVD versions of the show. Also on October 4, Inquirer.net ran a letter from a reader addressed "To all Filipinos in the Philippines & Abroad," which first included a link to the YouTube video of the
DH clip, and then (presuming that the clip would engender a negative reaction), implored Filipinos across the globe to object to the
DH episode by sending e-mails to ABC and the Migrant Heritage Commission in Washington, D.C. Calls for these two forms of digital protest - signing the onilne petition and bombarding
DH's producers and network with e-mails - were issued by more than 100 blogs in the days following the September 30 episode. Although bloggers and readers who left comments on online news stories also often called for offline protests, such as leaving messages on the ABC viewer hotline, and although a number of Philippine and U.S. government officials, including the Philippine Consulate General in Los Angeles, a California State Senator serving a large number of Filipino-American constituents, and Philippine congressman Bienvenido Abante Jr., chairman of the House committee on public information, sharply criticized ABC and
DH, it was the online activism of Filipinos that caught and held the focus of Philippine and Western news organizations reporting on the slurs.
On October 5, in the middle of the week that saw the heaviest reporting on the
DH joke about Philippine medical schools, GMANews.tv began running stories about the
Daily Show's September 18 show, in which one segment tagged a picture of Cory Aquino with the word "slut." As was the case with press articles on the
DH clip, viewers' online reactions to the
Daily Show's joke both instigated and were the focus of the news coverage. GMANews.tv explicitly linked audience's responses to the
Daily Show line to the furor over
DH, "Even before the outrage over a derogatory punchline on graduates of Philippine medical schools could die down, Filipinos have found another unpalatable remark on an American television show....An episode of the political satire 'The Daily Show with Jon Stewart' has found its way onto YouTube, and has been gaining more views in the last few hours....As of 2 p.m. Friday [October 5, 2007], the YouTube posting...registered 4,946 views." The article also stated that GMANews.tv had been alerted to the
Daily Show segment by a reader's e-mailing a link to the YouTube video, and implied that YouTube was a more democratic forum, allowing more disgruntled viewers to express dissent, than the authorized Comedy Central website: "While only one viewer's comment was posted on the official message board of 'The Daily Show with Jon Stewart,' the YouTube page where the video was uploaded has generated a number of remarks already." The story went on to quote some of the YouTube comments directly, most of which argued that the Aquino joke was offensive to the Philippines and mandated an apology.
A number of video responses to both the
DH and
DS lines appeared on YouTube at this time, bearing titles such as "Cory Aquino - A Slut? Another Degradation!" and "Desperate Housewives Teri Hatcher: LEAVE Filipinos ALONE!" A coalition of Filipino-American groups organized demonstrations to take place outside of ABC Studios and flagship Disney stores (Disney is the parent company of ABC) in New York City, Washington D.C., and San Francisco, and many Filipino and Filipino-American bloggers promoted the picketing. Faced with impending street protests, Robert Mendez, Senior Vice-President for Diversity and Talent Development at ABC Network, reassured Arnaldo Valera, legal counsel for the National Alliance for Filipino Concerns (NAFCON), that ABC would cut the offending scene from all future
DH reruns, DVD sets, or any format for sale or rent - meeting the demands issued by online petition author Nadal on October 4 - and agreed to meet with Valera in person to discuss the matter. Despite ABC's conciliatory gestures, picketing proceeded in New York and San Francisco, and the controversy persisted. On October 9, America Online (AOL) conducted a poll that asked whether visitors to the site regarded the
DH remark about Philippine medical degrees as "a silly joke" or as a line that "has racial implications." Although 75 percent of respondents (46,580 clicks) voted that the line was a joke and 25 percent (15,197 clicks) voted that it was racially derogatory, the 3,000 comments appended to the survey represented a full spectrum of views from Filipinos and non-Filipinos, with members of both groups expressing strong opinions about whether or not the line was cause for offense. That same day, the number of signatures on Nadal online petition protesting to ABC reached 112,789.
The online controversy generated by the
Daily Show Aquino line was far less intense, but was sufficient to prompt Comedy Central to send an e-mail to news outlets on October 7 explaining that "'The Daily Show with Jon Stewart' is a comedy show and the reference to former President Aquino was a joke." GMANews.tv reported on the e-mail, adding, "No apology can be found in Comedy Central's website though," hinting that a statement posted to the official website would be interpreted by bloggers and other Internet protesters as more formal and, hence, more acceptable than the e-mail reply. The GMANews.tv article went on to cite the number of views garnered by the YouTube posting of the
Daily Show clip (17,247), and said, "Viewers posted protests and irate remarks on Comedy Central's message board and on the YouTube page. The list keeps growing by the hour. A thread titled, 'A Petition for Mrs. Cory Aquino'...demanded an apology from show host Jon Stewart." Thus, although an online petition similar to Nadal's did not circulate in protest of the
Daily Show's Aquino remark, the term "petition" was invoked by at least one Internet protester. The GMANews.tv story also quoted several specific comments posted online, as well as a text message sent to GMA News by Cory Aquino's daughter, television host Kris Aquino, which read, "Americans would take the same type of offense if our own Bubble Gang [a sketch comedy show on Philippine TV] referred to President Jimmy Carter or John F. Kennedy as gigolo." [
sic]
That a wave of objections to alleged anti-Filipino slurs made by American television shows swelled via digital protocols (e-mails, blogs, comments on websites, YouTube videos, and cell phone texts), reached extraordinary heights, and became a hot topic for Filipino and Western Internet news outlets for slightly more than a week, may strike the average college-educated American TV viewer as extreme. Indeed, amidst the thousands of comments posted to AOL, YouTube, Comedy Central, and other websites decrying the
DH and
Daily Show jokes as racial slurs, a good number of comments, from both Filipinos and non-Filipnos, denounced objectors for being "overly sensitive," for not knowing what political satire or sarcasm is, for taking themselves "too seriously," and for not having a sense of humor. A contemporary postmodern American sensibility might easily dismisses one-line jokes that play on stereotypes, such as the
DH remark, as too trivial to warrant concern, and might heartily appreciate a clearly sarcastic remark, such as the
Daily Show's about Cory Aquino, in which a revered public figure is called an outrageously derogatory name as a commentary on a parallel, similarly ludicrous or ridiculous, situation. For example, at a White House Correspondents' Dinner in the 1980s, Jay Leno delivered a line Nancy Reagan being given the Humanitarian of the Year award: "I'm so glad she beat out that conniving little bitch Mother Teresa"; Leno later said, "Well, everyone applauded because it was so ridiculous. Even people who were Republicans laughed at it." (http://www.commongroundcommonsense.org/forums/lofiversion/index.php/t54708.html) In comparison to 21st century Americans' media sophistication, the digital mobilization of thousands in the Philippine diaspora in protest against U.S. television comedy may appear to be another instance of what Homi Bhabha calls Third Worlders' "belatedness": Filipinos seemingly do not know how to either "take a joke" or "get the joke," when most Americans - even Republicans - fully embraced insult- and sarcasm-based humor at least twenty years ago.
However, another set of interpretations of Filipinos' digital activism in response to U.S. television is made possible by an understanding of Filipinos' history as subjects, but not full citizens, of the United States, as well as their history of using digital technologies as means for effecting political change. I draw upon Graham Murdock's concept of "cultural citizenship" to frame Filipinos' protests last fall as a plea for better representation in the U.S. cultural sphere, a sphere distinct from, though closely linked to, the U.S. political and economic spheres. The Filipinos who objected to throwaway jokes deriding Philippine institutions and icons were mobilizing as
netizens - competent users of digital technologies who gather and disseminate information rapidly through communication networks - in order to be more fully recognized as
cultural citizens, not political citizens, of the United States.
The United States annexed the Philippine Islands as a colony after defeating first the Philippines' former colonial masters in the Spanish-American War of 1898, then the Filipino insurgency of 1899-1902. From that point to the year that the U.S. granted the Philippines in 1946, and beyond independence to the present day, the Philippines has been an important source of labor and raw materials for the U.S., and Filipinos in turn have been targeted as consumers for U.S. exports. Economically, the U.S. benefited greatly from holding a monopoly on imports into the Philippines during the colonial years, and giving Philippine exports unlimited (i.e., duty-free) entry to the U.S. President Taft, in signing the tariff bill of 1909, happily bowed to pressure from American manufacturers who realized, in the analysis of Stanley Karnow, "only an unchecked U.S. market for Philippine goods would open the Philippines to limitless quantities of their goods." The policy, as well as the "tight trade ties" [explain what these are] imposed by the U.S. Congress on the Philippines as part of the terms of its independence, sometimes promoted growth, but just as often, retardation, in Philippine industry, because the fate of Philippine production inevitably dovetailed with the fate of U.S. markets, and Filipinos could never extricate themselves from the U.S.' particular waves of supply and demand. Karnow writes that the complete dependence of the Philippines on the U.S. economy during the colonial years meant that, "Economically...the Filipinos were doomed to remain 'little brown brothers' for years....'reciprocal free trade'...was a device to preclude Philippine independence by locking the archipelago into the American economic orbit" (Karnow 198; 226), and that these trade ties condemned Filipinos to reliance long after independence (Karnow 198).
In addition to economic reasons, the U.S. had political reasons for flooding the Philippines with American products, particularly cultural products. The U.S.' moral justification for taking over the Philippines was
grounded in missionary fervor - President McKinley (who first coined the phrase "little brown brothers" in reference to Filipinos) spoke of "his divine
directive to 'uplift and civilize' the Filipinos" by means of a process
he called "benevolent assimilation" (Stanley Karnow, In Our Image, p.
197). Assimilation implied that the Filipinos would eventually resemble Americans - they would become Americanized, by learning to speak English from American schoolteachers imported to the islands, for example, and by learning American customs and habits, American worldviews and ways of being - and also that Filipinos would eventually be recognized as fully a part of the American project, which, even during the colonial years, meant that the Philippines would one day be worthy to be a democratic, self-governing nation with the same just systems of rule that the U.S. had. U.S. leaders were explicit in stating their belief that Filipinos were not, during the colonial period, ready for self-governance, and that their "many discouraging defects," according to then-Governor General of the Philippines Taft, could "only be cured by careful tutelage," which would take "'at least a generation,' and maybe longer, to prepare them for 'a large participation' in government" (Karnow 200). McKinley instructed Taft to set up an American-style primary school system in the islands in order to "fit the people for the duties of citizenship and for the ordinary activities of a civilized community" (Karnow 201).
The U.S.' promise to the Philippines at the outset of the colonial project was not, therefore, eventual citizenship in the American nation, but eventual citizenship in the American project, which included democratic self-rule based on moral and intellectual worthiness - "fitness," as McKinley put it. It is important to recognize that from the start of the U.S.' colonization of the Philippines, what Neferti Tadiar calls a "common material imaginary," characterized by "dominant dreaming practices" (Tadiar 31) was established. From the early 20th century, the Philippines was encouraged and commanded to dream of full citizenship in an American New World Order, an America that would extend beyond the borders of the nation called the United States - a global America, a worldwide American Dream, in which all people would be free and self-governing because they deserved to be, because they had worked hard for it. My invocation of the Bush-era term "New World Order" is purposeful, for it is only recently that many of the ramifications of the dreaming practices implanted in the Philippines by its U.S. colonizers, and in many parts of the third world by first world nations, have become clear: what the first world, particularly the U.S., has been aiming at over the last century is a supranational or extranational imperialism, in which all smaller, weaker, and poorer nations become willing and eager members - citizens - of a global empire characterized by American-style political democracy and economic development. The Philippines was one of the testing grounds for the transnational American Dream, in which all peoples, even little, brown, and unfit ones, can aspire to one day earning the right to become worthy beneficiaries of the great American experiment of self-rule, and liberty and justice for all. Frank Gibney, in a 2003 article, drew a direct comparison between President Bush's current goals in Iraq and McKinley's statement in 1899 regarding the Philippines,
"It should be the earnest and paramount
aim of the military administration to win the
confidence, respect and affection of the inhabitants by assuring them in every
possible way [the] full measure of individual rights and liberties which is the
heritage of a free people substituting the mild sway of justice and right for
arbitrary rule."American exports to the Philippines, particularly of cultural productions, played a large part during the colonial years in the U.S.' "tutelage" of Filipinos. Films are potent and often effective vehicles for delivering ideological messages. The influence of the American movie industry on Filipino culture is reflected in the well-known Filipino
summary of its two colonial periods, first under Catholic Spain's rule
and then under the U.S.': The Philippines, it is said, spent "400 years
in a convent and 50 years in Hollywood." The inundation of Filipino cinemas, television screens, and radios with American cultural productions only increased after independence, particularly after the end of the Cold War and the "deregulation" of U.S. media. David Morley and Kevin Robins write,
"No longer constrained by, or responsible to, a public philosophy, media corporations and businesses are now [since the 1980s] simply required to respond to consumer demand and to maximise consumer choice. Driven now by the logic of profit and competition, the overriding objective of the new media corporations is to get their product to the largest number of consumers. There is, then, an expansionist tendency at work, pushing ceaselessly towards the construction of enlarged audiovisual spaces and markets. The imperative is to break down the old boundaries and frontiers of national communities, which now present themselves as arbitrary and irrational obstacles to this reorganisation of business strategies. Audiovisual geographies are thus becoming detached from the symbolic spaces of national culture, and realigned on the basis of the more 'universal' principles of international consumer culture. the free and unimpeded circulation of programmes - television without frontiers - is the great ideal in the new order. It is an ideal whose logic is driving ultimately towards the creation of global programming and global markets....The new media order is set to become a global order" (Morley and Robins, Spaces of Identity, 11).
The "new media order," which is (or will be) founded on the first world, especially the U.S., exporting its cultural productions across the globe, and the "new world order," which is (or will be) founded on the first world, especially the U.S., exporting American ideals and systems of governance across the globe, are both components of the "international dreamwork" of which Tadiar speaks, which I am calling supranational Americanness, or the extranational American Dream. The operation at work in the colonial era of the Philippines, the dream for itself that the Philippines was taught to have, consisted of a hypothetical scenario in which the Philippines would become, in Karnow's words, "the Americans that Americans sought to make them" (198), by receiving American-style schooling and consuming American products, particularly cultural products; then, when Filipinos had received sufficient training in Americanness, they would be able to prove themselves "fit" for the "duties of citizenship," meaning, as I have alluded to earlier, not only citizenship in their own self-governing nation, but citizenship in the larger American consumerist and democratic project. This dream did not die or become passé or unnecessary after Philippine independence. Instead, this "international dreamwork" became the dreamwork of most third world nations in relation to first world nations, even more so after the 1980s and the rise of the new media order. Over the last ten years, as media (TV programs, movies, books, music, and software) has become the U.S.' biggest export category (Washington Post 1998 article, bookmarked), and as the U.S.' demand for natural resources and inexpensive labor has increased rather than diminished, America's drive to make Americanness - in the form of both American culture and American democracy - a global norm has intensified. A 1998 Washington Post article entitled "American Pop Culture Penetrates Worldwide," quotes Todd Gitlin calling "American popular culture 'the latest
in a long succession of bidders for global unification. It succeeds the
Latin imposed by the Roman Empire and the Catholic Church, and Marxist
Leninism' imposed by Communist governments." The article then cites Tom Freston,
then-president of MTV, expressing the same basic concept in different terms: "Today's young people have passports to two different worlds – to
their own culture and to ours" (Post 1998 article). These two quotes make explicit the conjunction of a "global unification" project and a globalized culture in the U.S.' current fantasies of power - television, "without frontiers," as Morley and Robins put it, will unite the world under the banner of Americanness.
Filipinos' digital protests against The Daily Show and Desperate Housewives last fall brought to light just how fantastical and unrealized is the U.S.' dream of rendering all nations, especially third world nations, culturally as well as politically American. For the promise held out by the supranational, borderless, "de-territorialized" American Dream is one of global "cultural citizenship" as well as citizenship in the globalized American system of democratic self-determination. In other words, if the third world is encouraged to be fully invested in, and deserving of, American democracy rather than socialism or some alternative form of government, and if that worthiness is to be earned partly by consuming American products, particularly media products, then the third world's "dream come true" would lie in being fully recognized by the U.S. as a member of its political and its cultural spheres. The promise of citizenship in the extranational American democratic project and citizenship in American culture both inhere in the rhetoric of American expansionism, no less so today than one hundred years ago. And just as the U.S.' "granting" of democracy to its occupied territories has proved fraught and sticky, laden (in the case of the Philippines) with trade mandates, military base agreements, and the propping of corrupt regimes, so has the U.S.' bestowing cultural citizenship on the third world proved a half-hearted effort at best. While U.S. media producers gesture towards ethnic diversity and attempt to make their products suitable for export, in the sense of being "friendly" and acceptable to non-U.S. cultures, the casual jokes about the Philippines and Filipinos made by The Daily Show and Desperate Housewives betray just how unidirectional is American pop culture's "penetration" of the world (to cite the aforementioned Washington Post article's title). If television had no frontiers, if young people of every nation possessed "passports to two different worlds - to their own culture and to ours," then why is no passage of cultural influence from the third world to the first world possible? Why has a basic awareness of the equality and parity of non-U.S. peoples to Americans not "penetrated" American cultural productions? In asking these questions, I am not expressing a personal opinion about whether the jokes in The Daily Show or DH were racist, offensive, or unfunny, but I am arguing that the Filipinos who did find the lines racist, offensive, and unfunny were occupying a subject-position pre-scripted for them by the terms of American imperialism, and that Filipinos' objections to the American television shows' humor, rather than being manifestations of over-sensitivity and a pre-postmodern lack of sophistication or indifference, emerged from a sense that the U.S. has failed to fulfill its often-reiterated promise to the Philippines of full citizenship in cultural as well as political matters. The Philippines has been flooded with American governmental systems and American products for over a century, has been a loyal (if necessarily so) consumer market and a crucial ally in Asia, has provided the U.S. with all the natural and human resources the U.S. has demanded, and yet Filipinos remain the "little brown brothers" of Americans, apparently not yet fit to be recognized as full participants in the American cultural sphere, so absent from the minds of American cultural producers that the very media programs whose profits depend, in part, on being exported to third world nations like the Philippines can make casual derogatory jokes about Filipinos. To Filipinos, the questionable lines in The Daily Show and Desperate Housewives indicated that both shows operate under the assumption that not a single Filipino will ever watch these jokes, from a mindset of cultural isolationism, when in fact the entire structure of contemporary U.S. media is built on the presumption that millions of Filipinos - hopefully, every Filipino and every other ethnic person in the world - will most certainly watch every U.S. television program made.
Mass media and political citizenship have long been conceptually intertwined. As Morley and Robins point out, speaking first of Britain's public system of broadcasting and then of the U.S.' commercial system, "Historically...broadcasting has assumed a dual role, serving as the political public sphere of the nation state, and as the focus for national cultural identification. (Even in...the United States, where commercial broadcasting was the norm from the beginning, national concerns were paramount the 'national networks' of CBS, NBC and ABC served as the focus for national life, interests and activities.) We can say that, on either side of the Atlantic, broadcasting has been one of the key institutions through which listeners and viewers have come to imagine themselves as members of the national community" (10-11). In Morley and Robins' analysis, national dreamwork and the cultural imaginary feature prominently, and a feeling of belonging to a nation, of being "members of the national community," is here presented as, in some sense, the result of media consumption. Morley and Robins argue that media deregulation and the ensuing "new media order" have done away with the community-building imperative and effect of mass media: "Within this changed context, viewers are no longer addressed in political terms, that is as the citizens of a national community, but rather as economic entities, as parts of a consumer market" (11). But in actuality, for many third world nations, the feeling of belonging to a transnational community, in many cases a supranational American community, has resulted from the consumption of U.S. media exports. A "citizenship effect," the sense that one is part of a larger well-defined culture, still arises from viewing mass media. However, Morley and Robins are right in highlighting the fact that viewers, in Western nations as well as in third world countries, are not addressed by media "as citizens" of a community - even if they experience the "citizenship effect" that media has the power to produce in the individual consumer. The political Americanization of other nations, which entails the spread and maintenance of U.S.-style democracies in every corner of the globe, is today divorced in U.S. official rhetoric from the cultural Americanization of other nations, while in the early 20th century, the connections between the need for non-Americans to become American both culturally and politically were often given voice by U.S. presidents and administrators. Nevertheless, the third world, now taking in more U.S. audiovisual media than ever before, dreams the dream that was introduced to it long ago: the dream of inclusion, of full membership, in an America whose reach would exceed its national boundaries, an America that was more an idea than a country, an America that was constituted in culture, economics, and politics simultaneously, with which a third world people could one day merge (in some kind of "benevolent assimilation" process), if only they allowed themselves to be "penetrated" by American culture, economics, and politics. The Philippines is an exemplary case of the operation of this extranational American Dreamwork. Having finally "earned" its independence from the U.S., the Philippines remains thoroughly penetrated by American images, and has not even come close to gaining adequate representation in the field of cultural production. The Filipinos who protested, individually and collectively, against American television shows' anti-Filipino jokes last fall were, in part, demanding to know why their "fitness" for citizenship in the political sphere has not amounted, in the eyes of the American media, to fitness for cultural citizenship. Why, when their consumption of U.S. media exports has been mandated for more than a century, has a sensitivity to Filipino concerns, history, and ideologies not emerged in U.S. media producers? Why have Filipinos not become full cultural citizens of the United States?
Graham Murdock's theory of cultural citizenship proposes that during the 19th century, "it became increasingly clear that the activities and aims of the major capitalist companies were antithetical to the extension of citizenship. If people were to become full citizens they had to have access to the material and symbolic resources that secured social inclusion and facilitated participation....[F]ull citizenship...required access to relevant symbolic resources and the competences to use them effectively. Efforts to secure full cultural rights centered on the development of an array of public institutions - the education system, museums and galleries, public libraries and public broadcasting" (Murdock 10-11). In this, Murdock echoes Morley and Robins' assertion that broadcasting imparts a sense of belonging and membership to individuals in a nation. Murdock's primary object of study is television, and he argues that contemporary television fails to grant its diverse viewers full cultural citizenship because, making a similar claim to Morley and Robins, commercialism and the need to optimize audience size has displaced any sense of responsibility on media producers' part to "construct a shared culture." Writes Murdock,
"[C]itizenship is undermined on two fronts. Groups on the social and political periphery according to the official charts are offered clearly demarcated channels or channel segments on cable or multi-channel systems, or programmes within established broadcast systems (almost always at unsocial hours), thereby confirming their marginal status....This exclusion/inclusion allows the major mass channels of public communication to evade the problems of orchestrating encounters and debates across proliferating and cross-cutting identities, and to concentrate on assembling audiences around affiliations and ways of looking that already occupy the cultural centre. In the process the project of conducting a shared culture based on recognition and respect for difference coupled with a commitment to renegotiating a workable conception of the common good slips steadily down the list of priorities" (15).
The model of cultural citizenship that Murdock applies to a single nation's broadcasting, I am applying to the Philippines and to many third world nations. Murdock lobbies for the responsibility that a nation bears to adequately represent its citizens in the cultural sphere - a responsibility that includes representing the nation's diversity, and promoting dialogue across diverse groups. I view Murdock's framework as suitable for thinking about the sense of disenfranchisement, exclusion, and even betrayal that Filipinos felt upon seeing U.S. television programs use the Philippines for quick laughs. The Philippines was promised inclusion into the American political and cultural fold long ago, and Filipinos have, for a century, regarded themselves as living within American culture - perhaps at the margins of this culture, but inside it nonetheless, due to the culture's being sold to Filipinos, literally and figuratively, as part and parcel of America's selling Filipinos on the idea of democracy, specifically U.S.-style government. When Filipinos were forcibly reminded of their exclusion from the American cultural sphere through TV programs that reinforced "affiliations and ways of looking that already occupy the cultural centre" - in other words, when Filipinos saw, in the course of two weeks, two pieces of evidence that the U.S. has no interest in "conducting a shared culture based on recognition and respect for difference coupled with a commitment to...a workable conception of the common good," even though the U.S. has been promoting the idea of a concrete common good existing between the U.S. and the Philippines since the colonial era, Filipinos protested. Their protests overtly targeted two lines of American comedy, but covertly targeted the fact that the U.S. had failed for a century, and continues to fail, at granting the cultural citizenship promised to the third world by the supranational American Dream.
When the Philippine diaspora engaged in digital protests against the Daily Show and Desperate Housewives, using cell phone texting, e-mails, message board posts, website comments, online petitions, YouTube videos, and blogs to publicize their opinions, they were engaging in a form of political action that has, over the last seven years, been remarkably effective for Filipinos. Digital media, specifically cell phone texting, played such a crucial role in helping Filipinos seeking to depose President Joseph Estrada in 2001 to organize mass protests that Estrada later said of his political downfall, "I was ousted by a coup d'text." (Txting Selves 101). The power of the cell phone to incite ordinary people to action, which numerous articles called "text power," was one of the most reported-on aspects of the anti-Estrada revolution that is generally called "EDSA 2," after the name of one of Manila's major thoroughfares, E. de los Santos (the first EDSA revolution, also called the People Power revolution, was that which forced President Marcos out of power in 1986). J.S. Ong of the Philippine Daily Inquirer wrote in 2002, "The millions who assembled at EDSA last year did so, not in response to a call by a charismatic prelate or a fiery opposition figure, but because we received and sent text messages telling us to go" (Txting Selves 101). As Raul Pertierra and his fellow authors write in Txt-ing Selves: Cellphones and Philippine Modernity, "The cellphone turned out to be a very effective communication tool, particularly in raising political consciousness. Sending, receiving, and forwarding hate text messages against Estrada activated latent political feelings. It was also very effective in coordinating crowds" (75). Although the Philippines is an impoverished country, its status as one of the leading recipients of the U.S.' outsourced jobs in digital enterprises, such as programming, animation, and database management, makes Filipinos' competence with digital technologies unsurprising. The seriousness and magnitude of the Daily Show and Desperate Housewives controversies are minor next to the nation-shaking EDSA 2 revolution, and yet there is some basis for comparison. Might we not regard last fall's online protests as Filipinos' latest mobilization of disenfranchised citizens via digital technologies? Cultural citizenship in the supranational American sphere is quite different than political citizenship in the democratic Philippine nation, but I have tried to demonstrate that two are inextricably related. In objecting to their continual exclusion from the American cultural sphere in which they have so long dwelled and played a part, Filipinos protesting online in fall 2007 were attempting to hold a powerful institution to its promise of inclusion and representation, just as Filipinos in 2001 who organized via texting successfully held another powerful institution accountable for abandoning its promise to represent the will of its people. Might not a future Filipino mobilization through new technologies bring about a form of television more truly "without frontiers?"