For those of you who've read any of my politically inspired articles, it should come as no surprise that Homefront, a game that eagerly capitalizes on international tensions and fears, has fallen into my sights. By drumming up a tale of communist expansionism, Homefront delivers a poorly received message: Be wary of the North Koreans.
When pressed on the subject, a THQ spokesperson told Kotaku, "Recent real-world events on the Korean peninsula are obviously tragic and, like everyone, we hope for a swift and peaceful resolution." But the publisher's clarification didn't placate the South Korean government, which forbade the sale of Homefront within its borders.
Surprisingly, this kind of confrontation isn't unique. The Venezuelan government banned Mercenaries 2: World in Flames for the critical jabs it aimed at its president, Hugo Chavez; Saudi Arabia embargoed Call of Duty 4: Modern Warfare for its negative portrayal of Arabs; the Chinese government prohibited the sale of Command and Conquer: Generals, claiming the game smeared the country's image.
Whenever governments complain about the lack of political sensitivity (or accuracy) which developers display, I tend to agree. Games like Homefront and Call of Duty: Black Ops, whose drama depends on perpetually evil foreigners, do little to propel political dialogue amongst gamers. The excuse is usually the same: "We're in the business of entertainment," as Mercenaries 2's Pandemic Studios bluntly explained. Yet, judging by international responses, these games have real implications on how we see real-world political actors.
I've spent the past five years studying and working in the field of political policy and, as an avid gamer, I'm intent on questioning who we demonize, why, and with what aim. Games like Homefront are quickly making me aware that politics and video games, my two great passions, don't always mix. So how do we change that?
UK Defense Secretary Dr. Liam Fox had some strong words to share with publisher EA after discovering that Medal of Honor allowed players to kill British troops as the Taliban. Fox found it hard to believe that "any citizen of our country would wish to buy such a thoroughly un-British game." Despite decades of video games which encouraged and portrayed the killing of Nazis, Soviets, and communists in general, he only raised objections when "his guys" were the victims of virtual gunfire. Peter MacKay, Canada's defense minister, joined the chorus of government officials to explain the obvious: "Canada and its allies have fought far too long in Afghanistan…it's not a game."
These politicians are either too sensitive, too nationalistic, or simply have too much free time. Sadly, the answer may be all three.
Sensitivity is the most immediately obvious factor which affects the intersection where politics and video games meet. Despite being Somali, I'm perfectly capable of enjoying the thrill and spectacle of Ridley Scott's Black Hawk Down, a politically obtuse film which ignores the historical facts in favor of over-the-top explosions. The reason: Black Hawk Down isn't a commentary on Somali civil disorder — it's just an action movie. Having acknowledged that, I can comfortably eat my popcorn and gawk at the violence.
The same goes for Homefront. Once we're willing to accept that THQ isn't actually demonizing the North Koreans out of malice, the faster we can sink our teeth into Homefront's embarrassingly short campaign and lackluster multiplayer. (Sorry THQ, but you don't get a pass that easily.)
So why do politicians take such stern stances on video games which criticize them or their militaries? The problem stems from political constructivism, a popular school of thought which suggests that social expression (including the development of games) eventually translates into public and foreign policy. This means that, if unchecked, video games which negatively portray the Chinese government (with or without cause) will lead to increasingly negative opinions in the public about the administration. Ipso facto, China bans Football Manager 2005 for recognizing Tibet as an independent country. It sounds stupid, but it happens.
The solution is simple and one which the Americans and Russians were first to rigorously implement.
The constitutions of Russia and the United States both have embedded provisions which protect the freedom of speech to impressive lengths — luckily, video games fall under the realm of "speech" in both countries. Any slanderous content aimed against the Russian government, for example, is a-OK. Battlefield: Bad Company 2? Protected. World in Conflict: Soviet Assault? Protected. How about Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2, which allows players to mow down droves of Russian civilians? Protected.
Old stereotypes are hard to kill. Yet, Russia and America have found that it's best to simply ignore them. Maybe I should, too.
Homefront may paint the North Korean people, who are really just the unwilling pawns of a dictator, with a negative brush, but it certainly isn't training America's children to hate them.
So here I am, ignoring Homefront….