David Ignatius says, "Ed Hoffman is cynical, tough, a man who was born to use other people. He doesn’t care about the human cost of what he does. Ferris is a person who cares deeply. He uses people, but it bothers him that he’s doing it." Roger Ferris is troubled by the moral dilemmas and questions of conscience.
After Hoffman moves Ferris to Amman, the field agent develops a fragile trust with Hani Salaam (Mark Strong), head of the Jordanian security services. Both men rely on their instincts and feel that they can trust the other. But they also both know the nature of the game they are playing, and Hani insists that Ferris must never lie to him.
Ridley Scott comments, "In Hani’s soul is a tradition of honour and trust. If he doesn’t trust you, you’re not going to get anywhere. And to gain his trust, you’ve got to act transparently. But by virtue of his job, Ferris is fundamentally obligated to lie to him."
Things come to a head when Ferris and Hoffman concoct a plan to disseminate false information in a bid to flush out Al-Saleem. What makes things even more difficult for Ferris is that he develops a tentative relationship with a Jordanian nurse, Aisha (Iranian actress Gloshifteh Farahani).
Watching Body of Lies is a tense affair for anyone who allows themselves to be drawn into the narrative. The increasing danger for Roger Ferris and the consequences of failure at any point easily induce a state of acute nervousness.
But part of the anxiety comes from witnessing Ferris’s moral dilemmas. Given the situation in the Middle East, the conscience struggles he experiences are important to all of us. Global security is of immense importance, and Western security forces play a crucial role in achieving it. But what moral compromises are made along the way? Do we have any option other than to have men as ruthlessly efficient as Hoffman playing devious games with friend and foe alike? Are deception, disinformation and covert violence necessary in order to achieve the goal? Do the ends justify any means? Watching a film like this, it’s hard to imagine what alternatives there might be. But if we want the world to be free of the terrorist threat, doesn’t that make us complicit in the moral compromises?
These kinds of ethical choices are often presented in a utilitarian fashion: what matters is the greatest happiness – or security – of the greatest number of people. I reject utilitarianism because it is fraught with problems. Who knows, for example, what the ultimate consequences of certain actions will be? What we think is expedient now can turn out, as we know all too well, to be disastrous in the long run. This is repeated in the Middle East again and again. And does the security of the majority really justify the mistreatment of a minority? Given the value we put on the rights of minority in today’s world (and rightly so), it surely cannot.
However, it does seem to be clear that great evils can sometimes only be confronted by actions which, in other situations, would be perceived as wrong. This is a key part of the idea of a just war. War is not good, but sometimes there is no choice. I don’t like people being used and manipulated and deceived, but I do believe that terrorism is a greater evil. And I feel for the people on the ground who have to make tough calls and risk doing the wrong thing.
One of the extraordinary things about the Christian message is that Jesus Christ, God’s Son, stepped into our world in order to identify with morally corrupt humanity, to be abused and wrongfully arrested as a result of disinformation, to be falsely prosecuted and killed, all to deal with the problem of evil itself. Self-sacrifice is a deeply moving concept. I admire intensely the willingness of people to risk their lives for our security, as Roger Ferris does. But how much more do I appreciate the self-sacrifice of the one who alone can deal with the evil in the human heart.
This article was first published on Damaris' Culturewatch website (www.culturewatch.org) - used with permission.
© Copyright Tony Watkins (2008)
