A splash of controversy over one of Semitic monotheism's most colourful heroes
By B.C.
In a recent posting I quoted a Cambridge professor who pointed out that common reverence for Abraham/Ibrahim doesn't always bring the "Abrahamic" religions closer together. Yet another point of commonality, and difference, for the monotheistic faiths is the story of Noah, sacred history's first boat-builder. And right now, the difference seems to matter more: the Arab Muslim world is reacting negatively to a forthcoming Hollywood extravaganza about the man who warned of an impending cataclysm, and managed to save some people and many animals.
In recent days, Paramount Pictures disclosed that its $125m movie, entitled simply "Noah", had been barred by censors in Qatar, Bahrain and the United Arab Emirates. Egypt's Al-Azhar, the highest scholarly institution in Sunni Islam, denounced the film last week, saying it "renewed its objection to any act depicting the messengers and prophets of God and the companions of the prophet."
In this case, the very principle of turning holy figures into celluloid images, rather than any details of the narrative, seems to have been the main stumbling-block, although there are plenty of animated children's films which explain, from a Muslim point of view, the story of Noah—or Nuh, to give the Koranic name. Admittedly, such films carefully avoid any depiction of Islam's supremely important prophet, Muhammad; but depicting other sacred figures has not, until recently, been subject to such a taboo.
What exactly are the differences, and similarities, in the monotheists' versions of the Flood? In both the Hebrew scriptures and the Koran, Noah/Nuh is warned by God that most of the human species is doomed to drown in a torrent of water as punishment for its sins; but Noah is guided to make a vessel in which a handful of people, and animals of all kinds, can ride out the flood-waters and hence survive the cataclysm. The Book of Genesis gives all kinds of architectural details of the ark, a many-roomed structure made of gopher wood; the Koranic version, made of nails and planks, sounds more like a simple raft, though it is capable of navigating waves as big as mountains.
The Hebrew version stresses that Noah was able to save his own family: his wife, sons and daughters-in-law. The Koran, by contrast, says Nuh's wife and at least one of his sons paid the penalty for sin. The Koran is more specific about the nature of the sin into which humanity has fallen: almost all human beings are guilty of idolatry, and specifically of worshipping statues. The statues in question are understood to be depictions of good people from past generations; sin has occurred because instead of merely admiring their goodness, people have literally and metaphorically put the righteous folk on a pedestal and started to offer them a worship that belongs only to God.
Christian commentators on Noah have contrasted the catastrophic flood-waters with the healing water of baptism; many have lingered on the image of the dove which is sent forth from the ark to test whether the land is re-emerging, and returns with an olive-sprig in her mouth. Some have seen in that story a foreshadowing of the dove, representing the Holy Spirit, that is said to have appeared over the Jordan river when Jesus was baptised.
Literal-minded Christians, determined to disprove the theory of evolution, have seized on the Noah narrative as an alternative account of the diversity of life on earth. They will be no less critical than fundamentalist Muslims of any details in the film which deviate from what they regard as the definitive story. Paramount Pictures, for its part, has been insisting that "while artistic licence has been taken, we believe the film is true to the essence, values and integrity of a story that is a cornerstone of faith for millions of people worldwide."
When the film, starring Russell Crowe and Anthony Hopkins, is released on March 28th, viewers of all religions and none will be able to make their own mind about how well the "essence, values and integrity" of the narrative have been preserved. But it is worth saying that an obsession with literal detail, no less than bowing down before a statue, can easily become a form of idolatry.
