Over the weekend, Jean and I rented the movie, Traitor. Since we like the suspense-filled, government conspiracy, action flicks, this one fit the bill and was very enjoyable. But as with most movies I watch these days it raised some thought-provoking ideas that I thought I'd pass along to you all. (TDD Spoiler Alert: If you're inclined to watch this movie, that I would highly recommend watching actually, then I would encourage you to exercise some discipline and read no further. It is the very well-done O'Henry ending that provides the context for this post.)
Essentially, the movie tracks the actions of Samir Horn (Don Cheadle), a former special operations officer who is now caught up with a dangerous terrorist organization. The plot centers around the FBI's attempts to capture the terrorists involved, including Samir, before they carry out their master plan. The plan is to have 30 suicide bombers (average looking American people) simultaneously blow up a series of Greyhound buses across the United States. The theory is that if 30 buses are blown up at the exact same time at various points across the U.S., it will result in an unprecedented state of panic and bring the U.S. to its knees.
The audience is continually left wondering just exactly which side Samir is on, particularly given the fact that he himself is a devout Muslim. As the story progresses, it becomes gradually more obvious that Samir is actually deep under cover, working with a rogue member of one of the U.S. government's clandestine organizations. He is using his expertise in building bombs to infiltrate the terrorist organization in order to ultimately cripple it.
The difficulty comes for Samir in walking the fine line between participating in terrorist activities enough to build their trust, but not so much that he compromises his own moral convictions. And in one particular instance that line gets inadvertently crossed, which provides a key moment of moral crisis for Samir.
The suspense builds as the day/time of the mass bombings is quickly approaching. Samir is to coordinate the effort by delivering the bombs to each of the 30 suicide bombers, and then emailing the logistics to each bomber on the day of destruction (providing them the bus numbers, departure times, and detonation instructions, etc.) The film culminates with images of each bomber sitting on their bus, the clock ticking. And when the moment of detonation arrives, each suicide bomber stands up, defiantly yells "Allah Akbar!" ("God is great!"), and presses the detonation button.
Their bombs explode. But unbenownst to them, Samir had assigned them all to the same bus. The crisis was averted and at the end of the movie, the FBI agent who has been chasing him (Guy Pierce) calls him a hero for his actions.
Now, here are a couple of issues to consider. First of all, in the sequence where the bus explodes, there is a very clear scene which shows the bus driver looking back at the commotion seconds before the bombs go off. Presuming he is an innocent civilian, caught up in the events beyond his control, and his death was collateral damage in the explosion (which raises one of the similar questions being debated on the recent Valkyrie post). Was his death worth the price necessary to stop the 30 suicide bombers, who would have presumably perpetrated much greater evil upon scores of American commuters?
Samir was in a very difficult spot (as are the many men and women faced with gut-wrenching combat decisions every day, as well as, the countless members of our clandestine groups who are constantly fighting a relentless enemy). Under the circumstances, he made the best decision available to him. But an innocent person died to accomplish the larger end. Was it worth it?
Secondly, I was intrigued that the filmmakers portrayed Samir as a devout Muslim to the every end. And it raised a very interesting contrast (which I think was intended by the filmmakers). There were devout Muslims who comprised the terrorist organization, and likewise, Samir himself was a devout Muslim. And yet, the terrorists were intent on taking the lives of innocent people (in the name of Holy Jihad). Samir, on the other hand, was motivated by the same Muslim faith to save innocent lives and stand up against the evil being perpetrated in the name of Islam.
So, when it comes to the practical outworkings of Muslim theology, who's right? Not being a Muslim scholar myself, I hesitate to weigh in too heavily here. But suffice it to say, this is a very important question, given the nature of the global conflicts we face today. There are a great number of Muslims who are trying to convince the U.S. that Islam is a religion of peace, and those who carry out terrorism are perverting that religion. As a one, who is part of the Christian religion whose adherents are often accused of similar travesties in the name of religion (e.g. the Inquisition, the Salem Witch Trials, etc.), I can appreciate the concern. Because as I have often said about Christianity, those blights in Christianity's history are not an accurate reflection of true Christianity. And any reasonable person who is willing to thoughtfully examine and compare the perfect example of Christ (the role model for Christians) to those acts, should be able to recognize that.
If, on the other hand, Islam is driven not by peace, by rather by the outworkings of Holy Jihad, then we (Christians and otherwise) would do well to pay attention to what is happening around us. Because it will not stop, and will not be stopped unless confronted (even by violence at times).