The current Iraq War, the rise of Islamic fundamentalism, the larger conflict between the West and the Muslim world—these things are decidedly unfunny. The few jokes that are made about these taboo topics are as often met with uneasiness as they are with laughter. For example, enterprising cartoonists, who would depict the Prophet Muhammad, face resistance not only from radical Muslims but also from largely un-amused Westerners.

Over the past two weeks, however, huge audiences across the country have filled movie theaters to laugh off their worries about this seeming “clash of civilizations” by going to see the new movie “Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan.” Starring Sacha Baron Cohen and directed by Larry Charles, best known for his work as a writer on “Seinfeld,” “Borat” resonates so much with audiences because of the West’s unease about Muslim cultural attitudes.

Borat, the movie’s protagonist, hails from Kazakhstan, a nation which we are told has some of the cleanest prostitutes in central Asia. Cohen himself looks vaguely Muslim (Cohen is actually half-Israeli and half-Welsh) and his character Borat is incredibly out of sync with Western mores. Borat’s blend of misogyny, anti-Semitism, and general backwardness all carefully correspond with American stereotypes of Islam. Importantly, these are not always traits that Americans impute indiscriminately to all other cultures.

But although these are the hallmarks of a “stereotypical Muslim,” the movie makes it very clear that Borat is, in fact, not a Muslim (and even appears to have converted to Christianity by the end of the movie). There is also little evidence that Cohen tried to portray his character as a Muslim. Despite all this, a largely subconscious tension exists between the similarity of Borat’s “Muslim” attitudes and his claim not to be an adherent to Islam.

This tension comes to the fore when a rabidly xenophobic cowboy asks Borat directly in the movie if he is a Muslim or not. Caught off-guard by the question, Cohen states in character that he is not a Muslim but a Kazakh (a curious answer owing to Kazazhstan’s large Muslim population). Cohen’s Borat then tries to lighten up the moment by saying that instead of following Islam he “follows the hawk” (a flippant reference to Kazakhstan’s flag).

Cohen’s uneasy responses to this cowboy are telling, since a lot of the movie’s revelry in Muslim “backwardness” remains awkwardly below the surface. Many of the gags, in fact, are not dependent on an explicit understanding of the movie within the context of the West’s recent encounters with Islam.

Nevertheless, the movie would not have worked as well if Borat were merely a generic Third Worlder who did not remind audiences of a Muslim in any way whatsoever. If Borat had been an African tribesman, people may have found his backwardness funny, but not in the same way. Americans would have felt a little guilty laughing at this generic Third Worlder, whereas Americans felt no guilt in laughing at Borat.

For those who have not seen the movie, the basic conceit of the film is that Borat, a reporter from Kazakh television, is visiting the U.S. in order to make a documentary. His hope is that by learning from America, the greatest country on earth, Kazakhstan might learn to deal with all of its problems—problems that Borat neatly divides into “social, economic, and Jew.”

As might be expected, Borat has a difficult time understanding American customs and hilarity ensues as he consistently fails at navigating the waters of social interaction, notably by telling feminists that women have smaller brains and by bringing a bag of his own excrement to a dining room table during a formal dinner.

Overall, “Borat” provides a relatively unthreatening forum for expressing people’s exasperation and anxiety about the West’s encounters with Islam. But it does so in an oblique way. We can laugh at Borat’s ridiculous anti-Semitism, without having to think about Ahmadinejad’s ominous statement that Israel should be “wiped off the map.”

It is unlikely that Sacha Baron Cohen designed his Borat character in order to capitalize on this anxiety. He introduced the character several years ago on “Da Ali G Show,” before Islam had become a major part of the political discourse. But if America were not mired in Iraq and if Muslim relations with the West and the War on Terror—or as Borat calls it, the “War of Terror”—were not so important, “Borat” would not have sold as many tickets as it has. The movie would still have been funny, but it would not have been the cultural event that it has become. Whether they realize it or not, many Americans seem to like the idea of laughing at Borat’s strange values, instead of being terrified by them.

Charles R. Drummond ’09 is a history concentrator in Adams House. His column appears on alternate Wednesdays.