Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti: 'A warm, sensitive writer who did not set out to offend'

When asked about writing Asian storylines in television soap operas, Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti was clear that anything was possible, if handled with tact. When asked about writing Asian storylines in television soap operas, Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti was clear that anything was possible, if handled with tact. "I believe if your heart is in the right place, if you ask the right questions, if you make the right choices, anybody can write about anything," she was quoted as saying in an interview last year. "It is just about doing it with sensitivity and care and passion." It is not a view shared by all members of the Sikh community from which Ms Bhatti hails. Yet those who know her and have worked with her say that she would never have set out to offend. "She's a splendid human being," Braham Murray, the artistic director of the Royal Exchange Theatre in Manchester, said. "It wouldn't have occurred to her that the play would cause such controversy." Described by Mr Murray as "extremely attractive and highly intelligent," Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti was born in Watford but now lives in London with her partner, Michael Buffong, an actor turned director. She studied modern languages at Bristol University, after which she worked as a journalist, refuge worker and actress. But in recent years she has concentrated on writing. She first won attention through a drama writers' course run by the old Carlton television company when it was preparing to make its new version of the soap, Crossroads. She had already started work on her first play, Behsharam (Shameless) with a writer's attachment scheme at the Birmingham Repertory Theatre in 1998, but was forced to put it on the back burner while she immersed herself in creating the characters for the resurrected soap. But while the soap was ultimately doomed, Behsharam received some positive reviews when it was eventually premiered at the Soho Theatre in London before transferring to the Birmingham Repertory Theatre in 2001. A drama packed with family feuds, prostitution, racial tensions and drug abuse, the critics disliked its soap-like tendencies but applauded the spark of talent they identified within. Michael Billington, writing in The Guardian, said it showed "definite flickers of promise" though he lamented the precedence of situations over ideas. Nicholas de Jongh, of the London Evening Standard, said it "might pass muster as an elaborate trial-run for a Channel 4 soap opera about a working-class Asian family in England."

She persevered with her writing, producing scripts for EastEnders and dozens of episodes of the BBC World Service soap, Westway, and a few plays. She has just written The Cleaner, an hourlong film for BBC1, and her first feature film, Pound Shop Boys, co-commissioned by the Film Council. Behzti (Dishonour) was her second work for Birmingham and, like its predecessor, has been published by Oberon Books. The Royal Exchange Theatre in Manchester is one of several organisations keen to work with her and Murray, the artistic director, had commissioned a piece which she was expecting to start work on once Behzti was running. "She has enormous warmth and compassion and understanding and she's very funny. "What is interesting from any playwright from a closed society that we don't know is how she depicts that society with a richness and humanity and makes the connections between that society and our society. She's certainly one of the best young writers I've read." Murray said he hoped the cancellation would not deter her as a writer. "I'm frightened if this in any sense stunts her development," he said.

Gurpreet Bhatti breaks silence to defend her play

Sikhism is not like Catholicism or any main stream Western Religion. This is the mistake the writer makes. This is a huge mistake. When you write about a culture, any culture, you have to respect and understand the culture and when you respect and understand the culture you then openly refrain from racist and abusive prejudicial comments. I think from what I have read about the writer they were simply being creative for the sake of creativity. I am a regular Theatre attender and I have seen some astoundingly brilliant plays with some excellent acting. This play was simply a sensationalisy piece of information probably fuelled by an overactive imagination with many subtexts on sex. Yes sex - ok let's just concentrate on what the play is about - a Bisexual Sikh rapist in a Gurdwara. That is offensive because she knows little about the way and culture and

values and beliefs of a sikh community. I am not denying that this COULD happen in a sikh gurdwara because in this world ANYTHING is possible but let's be honest here, in a real world situation a bisexual rapist in a British Gurdwara? I'm sorry but I dare not laugh for the open stupidity the writer portrays here. I think the Repertory theatre were simply seeking money. Sex is a big seller and sensationalism is a big seller. If you watch the programmes on Zee TV and Star Plus they are flooded with sensationalist dialogue built around sexual subtext. They knew an audience was there and if this wasn't the case? Well why don't they move the play to Liverpool or Belfast where Culture is huge? Why? There is very little culture in the play. It's a sensationalist substandard version of Coronation Street. During the renaissance there were many thousands of creative artists all over Europe flooding the market with their paintings. There were very few blasphemous pieces made because of a very simple reason whch is they were creative artists who didn't require sensationalism or gratuitous drama to sell themselves. Now if Bezhti (note the title here :o) ) wasn't blasphemous the writer should show that. They writer should intellectually and intelligently discuss and argue here case. The fact remains it has very little artistic merit, very little creative merit and hardly any narrative information other than sensationalist dramatic rubbish which should be left to one's imagination. The bottom line of my post is simple. Know your audience. Art is a part of culture but you must UNDERSTAND the culture you are creating art of. Art is nothing without the culture but if you insult a culture with your art it becomes nothing more than a self gratifying, self indulgent, egotistical, arrogant and abusively insulting enactment that should be left in the imagination of the individual.

Let's see here sell this in Plymout - I bet she sells 2 tickets. The Repertory Theatre know this, she knows this and the Arts Council know this. The bottom line is - this is about money and they all know this.

Behzti, the contest of civilisations Prev 8. The monologue of liberalism and its imagination of the sacred in minority cultures Next

Behzti, the contest of civilisations

We come to the practical: the real drama of Behzti. There were at least three plays in the entire saga: the serious play by Gurpreet Bhatti, the semiotic play by the Birmingham Repertory Theatre (or its director), and the drama out in the street a clash between two civilisations. Bhattis play was simple and straightforward. Written from an orientalist perspective of Sikhi and full of cultural clichs common in liberal fraternity and the Westernised sector of Sikhs, the play tried to deal with the humiliation of women in a religious context. Lacking any deeper understanding of Sikhi, she interposed Christianity as a model of religion upon Sikhi and the Sikh Gurdwara as the institution. The characters involved the president of the Gurdwara and people around him. The plays theme is sexual corruption and financial greed. He is killed by one of his victims. Ms Bhatti admitted that this was pure fiction and without any basis in reality. The Sikh public is weary of these negative stereotype plays which seem to be the ones that get financial backing and mainstream opportunity for production. However, the Sikhs are used to parody and to jokes about them. Indians joke about Sikhs as the English joke about the Irish. The Sikhs even join in these jokes and joke about themselves. Moreover, fictionalisation of life in theatre is something Indians (and Sikhs) are used to. The Sikh tendency is to ignore these, as they initially did with Bhatti. It is possible that some British-educated Sikhs may have been offended by this type of negative portrayal production and might have written to the theatre or local council. But that is as far as the protest would have gone. The majority of Sikhs, born in India, would simply have brushed off the production. Drama is fiction. There have been controversial and provocative productions by other young Sikh writers in the past, but the Sikhs have simply ignored them or found them amusing. A playwright called Harwant Bains produced a play in which a Sikh cuts his hair on stage and mocks the religion. He tried his best to get publicity by provoking the Sikhs. He went on to claim to have had threatening phone calls, possibilities of demonstrations, etc. The Sikhs simply ignored him. Fiction is fiction. His production died a quiet death. Moreover, the theme of humiliation of women is not new in Indian theatre, or to the Sikhs. The attempted disrobing of Draupadi the wife of the Pandavs in the epic Mahabharata, the sacred Hindu text about dharma and virtue in war, is a classic narrative in Indian culture. Sikhi, like

other Indian philosophies, makes no distinction between the religious and the secular. Inevitably, a narrative of a Sikh man humiliating women would involve the principles, or lack of them, of his dharam (moral duties). Dharam and religion are two different words with different meanings, as described earlier. Indian philosophies call themselves Dharma and not religions. But colonialism insisted on a particular category, and hence forced a dichotomy upon Indic cultures. The dichotomy between the religious and the secular is meaningless in an Indian cultural context. Indian theatre has dealt with the theme of womens humiliation successfully for millennia without offending the audience and yet leaving the message of the writer deeply imprinted in the minds of the audience. The Sikhs expected that subtlety from Bhatti. Many traditional Indians expect writers of Indian origin to know of the traditions in Indian theatre. But disjunctions in cultures and community become apparent in instances such as this which are a theatre of their own. Ironically, neo-Western Indians, ingrained with universalist liberalism, think they are educating their provincial community while the community assumes that such Indians have a critical understanding of their civilisation. These conflicting assumptions were evident in Behzti. Behzti went a bit far. Not the play, the artha, written by Gurpreet Bhatti, but another play in the background. This was the abhinaya playing silently, whose sole aim was to offend. Abhinaya is the variety of props and techniques that give visual form on the stage. The props used to give form to the play were not fiction nor did they have any relevance to the play. It was a semiotic theatre reminiscent of colonialism, triumphalism and power. This was the directors play; the director wanted to provoke for the sake of provoking, offend for the sake of offending. The director had power, the publics money behind the theatre, and a mere two centuries of fundamentalist Western liberal rhetoric. The director tried to bring an Indic civilisation system into the dual context of Western historical experience and the recently discovered freedom of expression. The director tried to construct the concept of sacred and profane, the triumph of reason over religion, an assertion of crude freedom over conjectured proscriptive restrictions. The director tried deflating the icon that is central in the Sikh system and tried to make the essential in Sikhi mundane and irrelevant. The director was on his own little crusade to teach the Sikhs about freedom of theatre and to gain publicity in his attempt. But, for the Sikhs, the play had gone beyond rasa into offence. It was no longer attempting to stage Bhattis play, but the Directors perversion. The artha, the rasa and the abhinaya had no cohesion, or sahmiti. As far as the Sikhs were concerned, it was no longer theatre but the directors safe zone of intentional humiliation: the offence that was disallowed in Natyashastar. This was no longer theatre nor a creative act, but a political statement. From their perspective, theatre had failed and entered into the politics of neo-colonialist presumption. The Sikhs, like most Indians, are sophisticated in receiving theatre. Thousands of years of cultural orientation are not lost merely by migrating to another country. Controversy, criticism, subtle deconstruction, bad language, sexual perversions, character assassination, etc, are all acceptable as part of fiction, but political humiliation and deliberate offence is not acceptable. It broke the natyadharma and failed to create rasa. The director brought the Gurdwara and the Guru Granth Sahibs text into the stage where rape and corruption were being staged. From an Indian perspective, this was no longer theatre, but a

political statement. At best, it was a misguided political statement imagining a battle between artists freedom and religious dogma. This has no history or relevance in Indic civilisation. Indian civilisation recognises the artists total freedom, but also the artists responsibility towards wider pluralism and the freedom of the individual to his sacred art. It was also clear from the play that the writer had no real knowledge of Sikhi, the institution of Gurdwara, or the benign teachings of Sri Guru Granth Sahib, the living textual guru of Sikhs. The director treated the living created iconology of the Sikhs into his dead world of intellectual discourse, the post enlightenment war between the Western concept of human reason and its assumed irrelevancy of the Abrahamic God in Western public life. At best, it was ignorance of the other because there is no such conflict in Sikhi or Indic civilisation. Sikhs protested. It is interesting that on the twelfth day, British born non-practicing young Sikhs emerged from the pubs in Birmingham, saw the pain of their community and took matters into hand. They attacked the theatre. Although brought up in Britain, they do not share the British middle class reverence for the Western theatre as a sacred place. The theatre stage has replaced the Church pulpit in the West. At one time in Western history, the pulpit was the safe stage from which war could be waged against ideas of heresy and blasphemy. Now it is the theatre which is the safe stage from which war can be waged against the very concept of ideas being called heresy or blasphemy. But this historic Western conflict between Church and State, between Church dogma and scientific thinking, between Christian proscription and Western liberalism, the perpetual tension of duality, receives little empathy within the civilisation of Indians. Indians have inherited a tapestry of plurality of coexisting imaginations without restriction, and in the minds of Indians, theatre is the drama beyond the confines of the building. The magic epic or divine world co-exists with the everyday (Yarrow).[43] In the Indian mind, there is nothing sacred about theatre if it breaks from the natyadharma (the rules of engagement in theatre). Once a performer moves away from dharma, he/she forfeits the assumption of sacred freedom.

The author of the play cancelled last month after violent protests by Sikhs has broken her silence, saying she still wants her work to be staged and telling of the effect death threats had on her and her family. Writing in the Guardian today, Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti says it was not fear that kept her silent but "practical issues" about her own safety and that of those closest to her. "My play, Behzti, has been cancelled, I've been physically threatened and verbally abused by people who don't know me. My family has been harassed and I've had to leave my home. I have been deeply angered by the upset caused to my family and I ask people to see sense and leave them alone." Bhatti says she "wholeheartedly" stands by the play, adding that the threats and hate mail have "stirred only tolerance and courage within me". The play was closed by the Birmingham Repertory theatre after windows were smashed and its doors stormed by some Sikhs who said the play insulted their religion.

The row sparked protests that artistic freedom of expression was under threat, while others claimed that right did not allow gratuitous offence to people's faith. Death threats forced Bhatti into hiding. The writer says she was "very saddened" by the decision to cancel the production, but accepts the theatre had no choice because of the danger of more violence. Behzti, or Dishonour, was set in a gurdwara, a Sikh temple, and included scenes of murder and rape. Bhatti denies a claim by one theatre boss that she blocked plans to stage her play after it was cancelled. She denies changing any part of the play because of pressure and says she wants the play to be performed again: "I will, when the time is right, discuss the play's future with relevant parties." In today's article Bhatti, herself a Sikh, says her faith in God remains strong and condemns people who used the row over her play to condemn Sikhism. "There can never be any excuse for the demonisation of a religion or its followers. The Sikh heritage is one of valour and victory over adversity." She continues: "I am proud to come from this remarkable people and do not fear the disdain of some, because I know my work is rooted in honesty and passion. "I hope bridges can be built, but whether this prodigal daughter can ever return home remains to be seen." Bhatti says the play was taken out of context by some people and was not intended to offend, saying that it was meant to "to explore how human frailties can lead people into a prison of hypocrisy." Sikh leaders initially called for the setting of the play to be moved out of the gurdwara, but Bhatti rejects this option: "I feel that the choice of setting was crucial and valid for the story I wanted to tell and, in my view, the production was respectful to Sikhism. "It is only a shame that others have not had the chance to see it and judge for themselves." Artists and writers in Britain and around the world expressed their support for Bhatti. The issue of freedom of speech was highlighted again this week when Christian groups demanded that the BBC drop a programme, Jerry Springer - The Opera, which they claimed was blasphemous. Bhatti says the artist's right to free expression is vital. "I believe that it is my right as a human being and my role as a writer to think, create and challenge. The dramatists who I admire are

brave. They tell us life is ferocious and terrifying, that we are imperfect and only when we face our imperfections truthfully can we have hope. "Theatre is not necessarily a cosy space, designed to make us feel good about ourselves. It is a place where the most basic human expression - that of the imagination - must be allowed to flourish."
I abhor violence but can't help a sneaking admiration for those who, unlike us, fight to defend their faith Most people will be shocked that hundreds of Sikhs should have laid siege to a Birmingham theatre on Saturday and brought the performance of a controversial play to an early end. Windows were smashed, missiles thrown and three police officers were injured. Now the management of the Birmingham Rep. has abandoned the production of Behzti after failing to reach an agreement with Sikh leaders. With the prospect of further riots, it could not guarantee the safety of theatre-goers. The play, deeply provocative to many Sikhs, depicted rape and murder in a Sikh temple. Written by the Sikh female writer Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti, it is the story of a mother and daughter who visit a temple where murder and abuse take place. After Saturday's riots, Sikh leaders had made the apparently preposterous claim that the setting of the play should be changed from a temple to a community centre. On the face of it, these activities on the part of Sikh leaders amount to an outrageous suppression of free speech. The threat of brute force has led to the abandonment of a play that broke no laws, and which lawabiding citizens had paid good money to see. To force its closure challenges the values of an open society which most of us hold dear. Without doubt, the incident will be used by those on the far-Right such as the B.N.P. They will say it shows that immigrants such as Sikhs with their own religious beliefs cannot be expected to respect British customs. Others of a more liberal disposition will limit themselves to the observation that free speech is a precious thing that must be defended at all costs. Right and Left will agree that the behaviour of these Sikh leaders shows how they have not signed up to the post-Enlightenment values that prevail in the host society. Most of us accept the proposition that we fight ideas with other ideas - not with violence and censorship. Of course, much of this is true. I deplore censorship. And yet part of me is unable to share in the general outrage. This bit of me even feels a degree of sympathy for the Sikhs. They were protecting something precious about their religion. No one can condone violence, but it is difficult not to admire their - to us very unfashionable defence of their religious beliefs.

In fact, the idea that anything goes in the theatre or literature was not born fully-formed in the Enlightenment 250 years ago. Until quite recently most people, including many who thought of themselves as liberals, believed that there should be limits on free expression, particularly in matters of religion and sex. In the theatre the Lord Chamberlain ensured that there were few, if any, profanities. In the history of this country - even its democratic history - the belief that free speech should be completely untrammelled is a very recent one. Over the past 40 years, there has been a string of films and plays mocking Christ, notwithstanding the blasphemy laws, which are largely ignored. Monty Python's Life Of Brian showed one of the thieves crucified with Christ singing to him on the cross Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life. In the film the Last Temptation Of Christ, the saviour was depicted making love to Mary Magdalen. Such films have caused enormous upsets, and some complaints, though we have seen nothing to rival the Sikhs rioting in Birmingham. A recent production in St. Andrews in Scotland of Terry McNally's play Corpus Christi - which depicts Christ and his disciples as homosexuals - did attract a small peaceful protest by Christian fundamentalists. This Christmas Madame Tussaud's exhibited sacrilegious waxworks of Posh and Becks as Mary, mother of Jesus, and Joseph, with no regard for the feelings of Christians. A current Channel 4 brochure carries a photographic spread of the Gallaghers from the 'current hit show, Shameless.' It shows them in the attitude of the apostles at the Last Supper. The figure playing Christ leans forward drunkenly, beer can in one hand, a cigarette in the other. What is striking about all these examples is how poor they are as works of art. Their notoriety derives from their ability to shock. I dare say the same could be said of Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti's play in Birmingham. But even third-rate works can cause offence if the ideas they contain are sufficiently provocative. Indeed, it is the mark of an inferior playwright that he should set out simply to provoke rather than to enlighten. If Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti's object was to suggest that Sikhs in temples can behave improperly as we know Roman Catholic priests can in their own world - she could have made her point more subtly without inflaming the very Sikhs whom she would presumably like to influence. Having chosen a holy temple as her setting, she could have hardly been expected to change it in order to please her critics. But she would have been wiser to have found a less contentious venue in the first place. I am not advocating suppression of free speech. It would have been better if this play had been allowed to proceed as it was written. But I do feel a degree of respect for the way in which Sikhs are prepared to defend their religious values in the face of merciless assaults from their enemies. They show a robustness which most ordinary Christians - excepting a few fundamentalists - are too timid to express. And perhaps this explains why Sikhs, one of the most successful of immigrant groups, observe their religion to an extent that is barely intelligible to most white Britons. For them religion is not something which may happen just at Christmas or Easter, if at all. It is part of the daily routine of their lives, and informs their belief in the importance of the family and of their social group.

Many will say that the religious intolerance shown by Sikhs in Birmingham shows how dangerously diverse Britain is becoming as a society. Here are people who put their religious beliefs before the notion of free speech. The same point is often made in relation to British Muslims, whose supposedly primitive beliefs are also pronounced to be pre-Enlightenment. Certainly the intolerance is worrying, but the main lesson I draw from events in Birmingham is that Sikhs comprise a group in our society which retains a laudably strong religious conviction, as well as a firm belief in the family. They are not prepared to see their beliefs mocked and degraded, as many Christians have been. If these values could be expressed peacefully and in a way that did not threaten free speech, would they not be an inspiration, rather than a threat, to Christian Britain? Ours might be a stronger and happier society if Christians were readier to defend their values, and if thirdrate playwrights thought twice before attacking them.