Isaac and Ishmael

Previously, not on The West Wing: the United States was attacked by terrorists on September 11, 2001.

The show starts with just a brief shot from the normal credits, of the White House and a flag waving gently, accompanied by a snippet of the opening theme music played on a piano. Against a black backdrop, and in widescreen format, Martin Sheen appears, as each primary cast member will, to take turns introducing this Very Special Episode. Martin Sheen tells us that we won't see the season premiere until week; Rob Lowe says that they're eager to get back to their "continuing story lines," but that they wanted to stop and do something different. Allison Janney mentions that instead of the opening credits, they'll be showing the contact information for organizations which are accepting donations for victims and survivors of the September 11th attack. John Spencer says, "By now, no one needs to be convinced that when they named 'New York's Finest' and 'New York's Bravest,' they knew what they were talking about. So we're pleased to tell you that the profits from tonight's episode will be donated to the New York Firefighters' 911 Disaster Relief Fund, and the New York Police and Fire Widows' and Children's Benefit Fund." Dul Hill adds, "A helping hand...from our family to theirs." Bradley Whitford reassures us, "Now, don't panic...we're in show business. We'll get back to tending our egos in short order. ["'Back'? What do they think they're doing right now?" -- Wing Chun] But tonight we offer a play: it's called 'Isaac and Ishmael.'" He explains that it doesn't fit into the timeline of the show, calling it a "storytelling aberration, if you'll allow." Richard Schiff tells us that this season's story lines include "a re-election campaign, an MS disclosure, an embassy in Haiti..." Stockard Channing adds, "Repealing the estate tax..." Lowe: "A fight against Big Tobacco..." Hill: "A fight to get our friends back..." Spencer: "Funding the NEA..." Janney: "A veto override..." Channing: "A marriage in trouble..." Janel Moloney suddenly appears and delightedly concludes: "And I get a boyfriend." I briefly wonder how the extremist anti-spoiler contingent feels about this last bit. Sheen's back: "That's all for us. Thank you for listening."

Before we go much further, I think this would be a good place for me to get a few things out of the way. I don't think it's much of a secret that I love The West Wing and admire Aaron Sorkin's writing a great deal. I've loved or liked almost every episode of the show produced thus far, and even the episodes that didn't do much for me certainly weren't what I would describe as bad. I consider myself fortunate to cover a show of this calibre. But I think this episode was a failure on several levels, and I hope this recap will give some idea of why I think that. There's an Arabic word: niyah. It means "intention," and in Islam, your niyah is the foremost criterion of your actions. I don't know if I could overstate its importance in Islam. I think about niyah a lot -- my own and that of others. I think about its Islamic application because it helps to remind me to apply "loving kindness" in my judgments of others. I believe that in this case, Sorkin's niyah was generally the best, although given the final product, I can't help wondering whether there wasn't some small degree of egotism involved in pushing so hard to be the first to tackle the topic after September 11th, or to be the one to try to create a magical, unforgettable episode that would somehow heal the deep and profoundly painful rift in North American society, as if any hour of fictional television could do that. I don't think even a thousand hours of television could, no matter how well-meant or well-produced. Still, we'll probably never know everything that was in his heart when he decided this had to be done, and that's okay. I give him credit for the best intentions, and I'll leave it at that. But recaps aren't about intentions: they're about the results. And while I think that the talented cast and crew did the very best job they could in the very short time frame available to them (ten days), and while I believe everyone involved sincerely had high hopes and good intentions for this project, I do think it failed in some significant ways.

On some level, the best thing I can say about it is that at least it probably didn't make things worse. But I thought it emphasized the show's occasional weaknesses (pedantry and sanctimony) and didn't make use of its frequent strengths (provocative dialogue, good plot, consistent character development, illustrating the concept that good people can disagree profoundly), and fell into a number of predictable traps surrounding issues of terrorism, racism, religious extremism, and American foreign policy -- the very things it attempts to take on. Research was done poorly, if at all, and I have taken the trouble to point out a few of the major places in which this is the case; by no means did I pick every nit. In the interest of trying to be as fair as possible I let a lot of things go. As I said elsewhere, I wish this episode was better; I honestly wanted to be moved and challenged and to be able to heap praise on it. I think this was an opportunity that was blown because it was rushed, and unlike a lot of people, I don't see what the rush was. I don't think it would have been "impossible" to start the season as planned, with "Manchester." Yes, it might have been a little weird and awkward at first, as we got back into the fictional administration's problems; I don't think it's going to be all that much less weird and awkward following this unsuccessful episode that stands outside the timeline. It simply did not have to be done. I think it would have been so much better to wait, if the episode had to be done at all. It certainly shouldn't have been done as a (by turns) trite, glib, superficial, condescending, and smug Civics lesson that was literally presented as if we were all in high school. ["Sing it!" -- Wing Chun]

The title card informs us that we're in the FBI Field Office in Burlington, Vermont. We see a fellow take a longish walk through the office over to the desk of a staffer named Joan. He asks her to run a search in the NIC (or possibly NICC, but probably not NICK, as the closed captioning has it). She puts in the name he tells her: "Yaarun Nabi." Reading the screen, she says it's a Persian name, meaning "friend of the Prophet." Joan indicates that there are four aliases for this person: "Yaqin Kashani, Raqim Ali, Yamin Bindari, Yawar Aryanpur." She does a pretty good job on the pronunciations. When the camera shows her screen it looks like the database is actually called NCIC. (Just did some research on this: looks like NCIC is correct.) He asks her to "run 'em" as she remarks, "Wonder if they all mean 'friend of the Prophet.' Guess that would be silly...or at least, remarkably coincidental...that the aliases would mean the same thing as the actual name. I mean, you gotta ask, what good would an alias be..." She stops short with a worried look on her face and directs Greg's attention to the screen. He reads, picks up the phone, and asks for the Secret Service Joint Operations Center at the White House.

In Josh's office, Josh yells to Donna that he's going home, as he grabs his knapsack. She says it's only 5:00 PM and that he can't go yet, he has to talk to the students. Josh has no clue that he was supposed to talk to the students from Presidential Classroom, which Donna vaguely grasps as a group of high-school students from across the country who come to Washington for four days and meet interesting people, one of whom is Josh. Josh doesn't know when this got on the schedule and wonders whether there isn't somebody else who can do this. It sounds right up Sam's alley, if you ask me. Josh is being a little bit whiny and says he can't do it because he has to work, and that he can't work in the office because they've "crashed five times in three weeks." I'm guessing his beef is not with Microsoft. He complains, "When I'm not being evacuated from the building, I'm not being allowed to leave the building! And now, the one...God, Donna, I wanna go home." Donna patiently tells him that it's been on his schedule. He agrees to give the students a few minutes. Donna directs him to the Northwest Lobby, where the students are waiting. He sighs and hands her his knapsack.

Josh walks into the lobby and greets them, although he needs Donna to prompt him with the name of their organization. The woman supervising them introduces herself as Marjorie Mann. Josh asks how they all got there. The majority of them murmur, "The bus." Josh actually meant, what did they do to qualify for the Classroom. (Reminds me of that creaky old joke: "Where did the dog bite you?" "Oh, a little below the Catholic Church.") Marjorie explains it has to do with grades, essays, recommendations, and rich and powerful Mafia dads. I'm just kidding about the last part. There's a minimum of levity in this show, people. Work with me. She says it's very competitive. Josh introduces himself and indicates that he joined the Bartlet campaign as Political Director shortly before the Iowa caucus. He also mentions that he used to work for Hoynes. Donna interrupts and says, "Josh?" She's looking at a red or orange telephone (hard to tell in the light available) on a desk with a label on its receiver that says "Crash" and a red flashing light. It's a curiously anachronistic phone for the current day; it's touch-tone, but it's that classic style in which dial phones were made for so long. Very '70s. A security guard picks up the phone and says, "Station One. Code Black. Crash." Josh tells the students that something's about to happen, and that they shouldn't be frightened, and that they're going to have to seal the building. Instantly, staffers are running around all over the place; a bunch of Secret Service guys come in. The security guard asks whether the students are with Josh; Josh guesses they are. He turns to the kids and says, "Something's happened." The credits roll and we are encouraged to donate what we can to the Twin Towers Fund (1-877-870-4278) and the American Red Cross (1-800-HELP-NOW).

After the commercial break, the kids are being herded into the Mess which, with its tables, chairs, and whiteboard menu, will effectively serve as tonight's impromptu classroom. I really think that the show would have been a lot stronger had they rejected the idea of making it literally into a classroom (the show has enough tendencies toward pedantry without taking it to that extreme) and instead, had the primary staff members talking and arguing with each other while being locked down during a more severe crisis, like that during or following an actual attack. Or perhaps they could have been evacuated post-attack and several of them could have gone to one of their homes to be together, since the majority of them are single workaholics. I think one of these approaches would have been more effective and powerful. Anyway, Josh quietly asks Donna what's going on. She wonders how she should know. He asks her to call Leo's office and find out what's going on, and "more importantly, how long it's going to be going on for." As he starts to follow the students, Donna suggests that, since the kids are probably scared, he might try lightening up a bit. Josh wearily tells her he'll definitely give that a try. Donna, instead of calling Leo as instructed, follows him into the room.

Josh begins by explaining to the students that a crash means that there has been some kind of security breach, and that no one is allowed in or out of the building. He turns, sees Donna standing behind him, and asks her again to call Leo's office. She scurries off. It suddenly occurs to me that Margaret must be in a real state with all these crashes going on. We won't find out, since she doesn't appear in this episode. Josh turns back to the kids, trying to figure out what to say, and where to go with this. He wasn't prepared in the first place, and now the situation is more complicated. He says he figures they should use the time, and launches into a Civics lesson that might be a little elementary for kids who are supposedly very bright. He describes the White House as the "home of the President and the Executive Branch, the most powerful of the three branches of the federal government." One kid asks whether it isn't true that the framers made sure that the Executive Branch was the weakest of the three branches, as part of the severing of ties to the royalist model locating absolute power in one place. He adds, "I mean, isn't that why they made the Legislative Branch -- or People's Branch -- the most powerful?" Josh looks mock-displeased. He asks the kid's name; it's Billy Fernandez. Josh says, "Okay. I'll call you Fred. A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing." Indeed. He continues, "I don't know how long we're all going to be here, but you just made my list." He says this with a wry smile. Billy smiles nervously. Josh then says, "Yes, I suppose technically, constitutionally, the Legislative Branch is the most powerful, but we get a motorcade, so back off." Kids smile politely. Having covered that, Josh says he assumes they know how a bill becomes a law (yeah, but I'd like to see Josh and Donna perform the Schoolhouse Rock song about it) so he wants to know what they want to talk about. Nobody speaks. Josh insists that the crash is nothing to worry about, that the crashes have been happening once a week lately. Everybody looks unconvinced. He pleads for someone to ask him something. One girl says, "So...what's the deal with everybody trying to kill you?" Josh: "Well...it's not everybody, and they're trying to kill you, too." Hey, way to be reassuring. She replies, "But mostly you." Josh says, "No...both of us the same." He tries to encourage other questions, saying they don't have to be about politics. He brings up college, since they're all college-bound. He claims to be "the guy who knows what you need to know." He tells a story about how he and his roommates got a fish registered for eighteen credits. Maybe that same fish graduated and became C.J.'s fish, Gail. Josh says the fish made the Dean's List; he adds that he and his roommates made a different Dean's List.

In a dark room, a bald man stands near an open window, smoking. The title card says "5:22 p.m., Old Executive Office Building." Out in the hall, we see Ron Butterfield and a bunch of Secret Service agents marching down the hall. They bust into the room, causing the fellow to toss his butt in panic. They've got their guns drawn; he puts his hands up. He had no idea that the anti-smoking restrictions had become this tight. Ron asks if the fellow is Raqim Ali. The actor playing Raqim is Ajay Naidu, (Samir from Office Space). He does a very good job, too. He replies, terrified, "Y-yes. The...there's..." Ron tells him to stay calm, and explains who he is. He tells Raqim to keep his hands over his head, and to step away from the window. "We're going to ask you some questions." And it's time for a commercial.

Ron is waiting for Leo when Leo returns to his office. Ron tells him: "Five hours ago, Khuram Sharif was taken into custody while crossing from Ontario into Vermont." (Even I, with my flimsy grasp of geography, am fairly certain that this province does not border that state. ["Correct; Vermont borders Quebec." -- Wing Chun]) "There was a warrant for his arrest in connection with an attempted bombing at La Guardia. Turning state's evidence over to the attorney, he named several co-conspirators, one of whom was Yaarun Nabi. A preliminary check in the NCIC kicked out five aliases, one of which was Raqim Ali." I thought there were four. Whatever. "There are three Raqim Alis. One's a software designer in Spokane, another's a caterer in Los Angeles." Leo asks who the third one is. Ron: "He works in the White House." Leo looks stunned. He makes a sound halfway between a sputter and a sigh and says, "Well...it was only a matter of time, huh?" Ron says, "Yeah," and opens the door for Leo as they leave.

In a dramatically underlit room (if you were interrogating someone suspected of violent crimes, wouldn't you want to be able to so see his or her every expression and move?), the Secret Service is questioning Raqim: "Have you ever heard of Khuram Sharif?" Raqim says he has, and says that he was arrested in connection with an attempted bombing of a New York airport. Raqim adds that he thinks he may have also been arrested once in Paterson, New Jersey. The agent inquires about whether Paterson means anything to Raqim. Raqim says that he was born there, and that he went to MIT; he has a bachelor's degree in applied mathematics. Just then Ron and Leo arrive. Leo asks, "You know who I am?" Raqim says, "Of course I know who you are." Leo nods to one of the agents.

Back in the Mess, Toby's arrived. His first words: "Kill 'em all, yeah." One kid says, smirking slightly, "All the Islamic extremists?" Toby: "No, no, I mean everyone. You're all bothering me. I want to be left alone. Clearly the only way that's going to happen is to be alone, so I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to let you all go." Toby is so my boyfriend right now. ["Toby's been on the forums lately, I gather, because he is so on my length right now." -- Wing Chun] Then he adds, "'Cept the Yankees and the Knicks." Well, you lost me there, Toby-wan. "And the Yankees and the Knicks are going to need someone to play, so keep the Red Sox and the Lakers. And the Laker Girls. And the Palm. And we'll need to keep the people who work at the Palm. That's it, though: the Yankees, the Red Sox, the Knicks, the Lakers, the Laker Girls, and anyone who works at the Palm. Sports, Laker Girls, and a well-prepared steak: that's all I need." He pauses. "Sometimes I like to mix it up with Italian...Chinese...all right, you can all stay, but don't bug me. You're on probation. Don't forget: I was this close to banishing you." ["Now I know for sure Toby's been on the boards." -- Wing Chun] Josh says, "This is Toby Ziegler, and actually, he's in charge of crafting our message to the public." Toby, to the students: "And today that message is...?" One of the kids: "'Don't bug me'?" Toby: "That's right." The first girl says, kind of half-dreamily, half-sarcastically, "Nice beard." Toby replies, "My choice, sister. And by the way, there's nothing wrong with a religion whose laws say a man's got to wear a beard or cover his head or wear a collar. It's when violation of these laws becomes a crime against the state and not your parents that we're talking about lack of choice." He reads the statement on the white board: "'Islamic extremist is to Islamic as KKK is to Christianity.' That's about right, that's a good religious analogy. What's a political analogy? What's an analogy using governments?" One kid replies, "They don't have a government." Another says, "They have the Taliban. They're the government of Afghanistan." Toby points out that the Taliban is not the recognized government of Afghanistan, but that they took over the existing recognized government, "and there's your political analogy." One student asks what he means. Time to crib from the widely circulated letter written by Afghan-American Tamim Ansary, which I can't imagine that anyone in the Western world with email hasn't been pointed to at least once in the last three weeks; I myself have received it or seen it linked no fewer than ten times. Toby sighs and says, "When you think of Afghanistan, think of Poland; when you think of the Taliban, think of the Nazis; when you think of the citizens of Afghanistan, think of Jews in concentration camps." I wonder why they avoid naming bin Laden. He looks down briefly. "A friend of my dad's who was at the camps, he used to come over to the house and he and my dad used to shoot some pinochle. He said he once saw a guy at the camp kneeling and praying. He said, 'What are you doing?' Guy said he was thanking God. And my dad's friend said, 'What could you possibly be thanking God for?' He said, 'I'm thanking God for not making me like them.' Bad people can't be recognized on sight. There's no point in trying." Toby eats a piece of an apple. Josh says, "Actually, we already covered that." Toby, chewing: "It's worth covering twice, don't you agree?" Josh does. Someone has a question for Toby: "Pinochle's a card game?" Toby: "Yeah, I've changed my mind again: kill 'em all." Josh: "Laker Girls?" Toby: "No. All right."

One student asks what the first act of terrorism was. I'm not sure that's a question that can be definitively answered, never mind in a couple of sentences on primetime television. That may be just a bit bigger piece than should have been bitten off. I think Toby and Josh know it, too. Toby looks at Josh and says, "What was the first act of terrorism?" Josh responds, "I could answer, but I think he's asking you, man." Toby knows he can't squirm out of this. He says he knows it's not new, and starts talking about the eleventh century. "I'm going to have trouble pronouncing this...in the eleventh century, secret followers of al-Hasan ibn al-Sabah, who were taught to believe in nothing and dare all, carried out these very swift and very treacherous murders of fellow Muslims." If they believed in nothing, how is it that the Muslims they allegedly killed were their fellows? "And they did it in a state of religious ecstasy." Again I ask: religious ecstasy for those who believe in nothing? My reading on this particular political/philosophical sect is very limited and occurred quite a long time ago, so I am sketchy on the details. But I think if the show is going to bring it up, it has an obligation to be clear and accurate about it. A cursory search of some of my reference books indicates that the members of this sect actually are alleged to have killed some of the Crusaders. I wish I had time to do more research on this at the moment. As Sam wanders in, Toby continues: "Young men between twelve and twenty were given hashish, and smuggled into -- I really don't know what to call it -- smuggled into a kind of specially designed pleasure garden complete with concubines. They were told this was Paradise and that the Master's angels would carry them back if they carried out murders of the Master's enemies." Hmm: so it sounds like they drugged them and manipulated them. What this has to do with religion, never mind Islam, which has always prohibited the use of mind-altering substances, is beyond me.

Sam interjects, in a really odd tone: "Ah, temptation. I have named thee and thy name is Woman." Oh, for...Huh? Isn't this a fairly gratuitous, and unhelpful, remark? Josh introduces Sam. "Now don't be frightened when I tell you that in this room, Sam is the knowledgeable terrorism expert." Well, I'm frightened anyway, if the research so far is anything to go on. "The good news is that in this government, we have some extremely knowledgeable terrorism experts." Sam says he heard he was needed, so he came. Toby says that they were talking about al-Hasan ibn al-Sabah, struggling once again with the pronunciation and asking Sam whether he got it right. Sam says he did and adds, "By the way, the Arabic name for their secret order has survived until today. Can anybody guess what it was? The Arabic name?" Freddy/Billy knows: "Assassins." (It's from the word hashshashin, "hashish eaters.") Josh jokes, "Yeah, we don't call on him." As Sam wanders near him, Toby quietly asks him, "What's going on?" Sam says, "I'm supposed to be at a meeting at Treasury." Toby says he had a six o'clock on the Hill. "Now I'm stuck here, you know, talking to well-dressed children who can't vote." Someone asks Sam, "You know a lot about terrorism?" Sam says he dabbles. That seems a little glib given the national mood of recent weeks. He's eating Jelly Tots or something. The same person asks by what Sam is most struck, which doesn't seem like a very natural question for this kid to have asked, but you know...it's a VSE, and Sam needs an opening. I guess. Sam replies, "Its 100% failure rate. Not only do terrorists always fail at what they're after, they pretty much always succeed in strengthening whatever it is they're against." I would argue this but I need to turn in this recap before, like, May. ["I'll just repeat what Glark observed on the boards, which is that history is written by the victors, and that successful acts of terrorism are generally known as 'revolutions.'" -- Wing Chun] Kid: "What about the IRA?" Sam, dismissively: "Brits are still there. Protestants are still there. Basque extremists have been staging terrorist attacks in Spain for decades with no result. Left Wing Red Brigades from the 60s and 70s, from the Baader-Meinhof gang in Germany, to the Weathermen in the U.S. have tried to overthrow capitalism. You tell me: how's capitalism doing?" Sam looks obnoxiously smug. ["It's his hair." -- Wing Chun] One kid asks, "What about non-violent protest?" Sam: "What about it?" The kid says, "Well, it worked for Gandhi." Sam says, "Yeah, it did. Who else did it work for?" Another kid: "The civil-rights movement." A girl asks, "Yeah, but...weren't we terrorists at the Boston Tea Party?" What's the point of dragging this into the discussion? As Sam points out, nobody got hurt at the Boston Tea Party. "The only people who got hurt were some fancy boys who didn't have anything to wash down their crumpets with." He claims that "never has a war been so courteously declared. It was on parchment with calligraphy and 'Your Highness, we beseech you on this day in Philadelphia to bite me, if you please....'" There's a murmur of polite amusement.

A student has a question about terrorism being 100% ineffective: she points out that "they" are still doing it anyway, and that they aren't frustrated by the failure. Sam agrees with this. She inquires: "Well, what do you call a society that has to just live every day with the idea that the pizza place you're eating in could just blow up without any warning?" Naturally, I can barely hear the response over the sound of my cranium being cracked open by the eighteen-wheeler full of anvils that just drove over me. Sam simply says: "Israel." Of course, while I'm digging said anvils out of my grey matter, I hold out the vague hope that he might also mention some of the other "societies" where the same is also true: England and Ireland, Egypt, Algeria, Sri Lanka, India, Pakistan, Lebanon, Turkey, Afghanistan, etc. To name just a few. Oh, and Palestine and the Occupied Territories. No such luck: we're going to the scene. Y'all spare a thought for all of those unfortunate places, and how we might have to put North America on that list in the near future, and I'll bandage my noggin.

Back in the interrogation, they ask Raqim about a wire found in his backpack. He explains that it's for his computer; he lives in an older building and needed older wires to "upgrade the M-waves on [his] motherboard." I forgot to ask Frink whether that makes any sense or not. Leo asks if he's an expert in circuitry and wiring. Raqim says that his father works for the phone company. That doesn't seem like much of a response or an explanation. Leo wants to talk about Raqim's applied mathematics degree: why is Raqim working for a White House staff secretary? Raqim asks what he means. Leo says that they don't do a lot of math around there. Raqim explains that his interests shifted and that he became interested in policy. Leo: "You're aware that the intelligence agencies routinely recruit top mathematicians -- oftentimes out of MIT -- and train them to be cryptographers." Raqim knows. Leo continues: "And those cryptographers are the ones who, on a daily basis, code and decode messages sent between the White House, the State Department, and the Pentagon?" Raqim is aware. Leo looks at a sheet of paper and says, "Last year, your father made a contribution to something called the Holy Land Defender. Were you aware of the contribution?" Politely but firmly, Raqim says, "Mr. McGarry, I understand the need for these questions, and I hope you notice I've been cooperating, but if you drag my father into this pitiful exercise, I'm afraid I'm going to get angry." It's too bad we're not given any insight into why he might be more indignant about protecting his father than himself. Leo responds, "I don't think you understand the seriousness of what's happening right now." Leo puts his glasses back on. Raqim, not cowed at all, replies, "I don't think you do." He doesn't blink as Leo gazes at him, and then goes back to his sheet of information.

After some commercials, it's back to the Mess. C.J. has arrived. Josh is saying, "No, no, no, no. You've walked into quicksand." Toby: "You don't ask C.J. about the CIA." Sam: "You just don't do it." Josh explains: "C.J. has a bizarre affection for the intelligence community that we just don't..." C.J.: "Bizarre? How about right?" Josh resigns himself to hearing about it. C.J. says, "This song is called: 'The CIA: Our Maligned Little Brother.'" So far, I think I prefer "The Jackal." Sam mutters, "Oh, God." C.J. begins her lecture: "We need spies. Human spies. Spy satellites are great if you're trying to detect whether or not Khrushchev's put missiles in Cuba, but you want to overhear a conversation over Turkish coffee in Khyber Pass, you need a spy. You guys want to get great jobs after college and serve your country? Study Arabic, Chinese, and Farsi." Toby, pacing around, suggests "Maybe this would be a good time for a chorus of 'Our Maligned Little Brother, Civil Liberties." C.J.: "Liberties, schmiberties." I found this attitude fairly out of character for C.J. But I guess somebody had to be a fan of the intelligence community in this little morality play, and Leo, a more likely suspect, is busy playing the role of Paranoid Bigotry. Anyway, Toby cracks, "C.J. Cregg, ladies and gentlemen." C.J. snaps, "You know a way to do this without tapping some phones?" Toby: "What about illegal searches? What about profiling?" Yes, what about those things, those things that are going on right now and for the last three weeks, and well before that -- things that have happened directed against anybody with the wrong name, the wrong colour skin, the wrong religious background. Well, there are only forty minutes or so and there are a lot of speeches and stuff to get through, so there's no time to go into anything in any kind of truly educational detail, something this show has sometimes done well in the past. Toby asks whether C.J. knows what Benjamin Franklin said. She snipes, "'Hey, look, I've invented the stove'?" Freddy/Billy/ Smitty/whatever his name is contributes, "He said that, 'They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.'" C.J. puts Smitty in her tractor beams and asks, "What's your name?" Josh: "I'm on it." Donna smiles. C.J. says, "Well, I don't think we're talking about a little temporary safety, and it's not like we need to search high and low for clear and present danger." Toby asks what she thinks is the point of fighting terrorism. She replies, "It's to ensure freedom, Pokey. I don't need the brochure." Toby thinks she does: "Because during times of great crisis and threat, America has used Draconian measures before, and I think maybe you've forgotten just how effective they've been. Can you name some?" Toby is so totally my boyfriend. A student: "The blacklist." Toby says he wants C.J. to name them, whereupon C.J. says, "The blacklist." She continues, "Look, I take civil liberties as seriously as anyone, okay? I've been to the dinners." Oh. Well, then. "And we haven't even talked about free speech yet and somebody getting lynched by the patriotism police for voicing a minority opinion." No, we sure haven't, but thanks for bringing it up in passing. Maybe that would be a good discussion to have. C.J.: "That said, Tobus, we're going to have to do some stuff. We're going to have to tap some phones, and we're going to have to partner with some people who are the lesser of evils. I'm sorry, but terrorists don't have armies and navies. They don't have capitals. Some of these guys, we're going to have to walk up to them and shoot them. Yeah we can root terrorists' nests, but some of these guys aren't going to be taken by the 105th Armored Tank Division; some of these guys are gonna be taken by a busboy with a silencer. So it's time to give the intelligence agencies the money and the manpower they need. We don't hear about their successes. Guess what? The Soviets never crossed the Elbe. The North Koreans stayed behind the thirty-eighth parallel. During the millennium: not one incident. You think that's because the terrorists decided that'd be a good day to take off, not much action that day? End of song."

They're grilling Raqim about an arrest two years earlier for holding a rally without a permit; the charges were dropped because he had applied for a permit but it hadn't been processed. Leo asks what he was protesting. Raqim: "The presence of U.S. troops in Saudi Arabia." Leo wonders what Raqim's problem is with this. Raqim points out that Saudi Arabia is the home of two of Islam's holiest mosques (the Ka'aba in Makkah and the Prophet's Mosque in Madinah): "How would you like it if I camped out in front of the Vatican with a stockpile of M-16s?" Leo claims, "I'd like it fine if you were there to protect the Vatican." Yeah, right. One of the agents tries to speak to Leo, but he doesn't notice as he tells Raqim, "We sent troops down there to make sure our friends didn't cross the Kuwait border and seize Saudi territory." Raqim points out that he means Saudi oil. Leo acknowledges this: "Yes, we have oil interests in the Gulf. So does the rest of the world." Raqim objects, "You sent an army composed of women as well as men to protect a Muslim dynasty where women aren't even allowed to drive a car!" Somehow I don't think that was the primary objection to the presence of American troops in the Kingdom. Leo snipes, "Maybe we can teach 'em." They just glare at each other a bit until Raqim says, "Anyway...that's what I was protesting." Leo nods at one of the agents, who asks him about where he went to high school. Raqim confirms the information. Apparently in December of 1994 someone called in a bomb threat to the school. Raqim recalls that there were bomb threats, but he doesn't remember the exact dates. ["He was in high school in 1994? That would make him younger than I am, and I don't see someone younger than twenty-five getting a sweet job at the White House." -- Wing Chun] Apparently his transcript indicates that he was questioned by the police. Raqim mutters, "Yeah, it's on my school transcript...because I wasn't arrested." All this time Leo is just staring at Raqim without blinking. Raqim says that the bomb threat was called in by a couple of football players who didn't want to write a final Chemistry exam. The agent, standing up between Leo and Raqim, says, "So it was a couple of football players but they called you in anyway?" Looking at Leo, and not the agent, Raqim says, "It's not uncommon for Arab-Americans to be the first suspected when that sort of thing happens." I had been wondering whether he was supposed to be Arab, since I think the actor is actually Indian. It's already been made clear he's supposed to be Muslim. (And here's a chorus of "Truth: Our Maligned Little Sister," it goes something like this: "All Muslims are not Arabs. All Arabs are not Muslims." Repeat as many times as necessary.) Leo says, "I can't imagine why." I know Leo is actually representing the attitudes of God only knows how many people, but it sure is sickening. Raqim starts to take Leo to task, but Leo interjects, saying, "No! I'm trying to figure out why anytime there's terrorist activity, people always assume it's Arabs. I'm racking my brain." Yeah, me too, especially since according to U.S. State Department reports on global patterns of terrorism (released in 1997, the most recent date for which I can find statistics), "terrorism originating in the Middle East is sixth in order of occurrence and frequency," as Edward Said points out in his excellent book Covering Islam. Raqim says, "I don't know the answer to that, Mr. McGarry, but I can tell you...it's horrible." Frink can vouch for that. Leo then says something I can hardly believe: "Well, that's the price you pay." I literally gasped and my mouth hung open when he said this. Raqim's also deeply offended: "Excuse me?" He pauses. "The price I pay for what?" Leo just stares in his hateful, unblinking way and says, "Continue the questions." I considered using the commercial time to phone Frink (he's watching elsewhere) to vent but decided to wait until the show was over.