Any work of history is shaped not only by its chosen medium – an academic book, documentary, film or play – but also the period in which it is produced. Historians and audiences alike explore the past through the lens of their current era, its preoccupations and anxieties. There has been a concerted move in recent years to centre stories of people from history who were pushed to the margins, an effort to restore balance and parity to our understanding of the past and the people who lived then. The decision to present, in Assassin’s Creed: Shadows, a Black man and a young woman in the lead roles sits within this broader trend in history-writing. And while the game is hardly designed to be an academic work, it fits comfortably within the category of public-facing history. As you collect information, the game’s codex fills with museum-grade information and essays about, say, tea production in Ujitawara, specific castles, and even artefacts such as kabuto helmets. This coupling of entertainment and education has a meaningful impact on society’s knowledge of the past – particularly younger generations who might be less inclined to tuck into the latest Max Hastings or Anthony Beevor. Games are apt for this kind of work. How many westerners knew about the first Mongol invasion of the Japanese archipelago prior to playing Ghost Of Tsushima? Likewise, Assassin’s Creed has always attempted to blend flippancy with accuracy, a recipe that has worked to varying degrees of success. Ubisoft clearly understands there is, if not a public-service remit to its work, then at least a marketable benefit from an association with historians. The publisher’s podcast series, Echoes Of History, promises to “dive into the real-life history that inspires the locations, characters, and storylines of the legendary world of Assassin’s Creed”. It is produced in conjunction with British historian Dan Snow’s company, History Hit, and frequently tops videogame podcast charts. The collaboration laudably attempts to kindle in players a deeper interest in history, perhaps first piqued by the games. And yet, even the most omniscient historical works can never be completely neutral in the viewpoints they put forth, despite what the CEOs of their publishing companies might hope.
Assassin’s Creed has always attempted to blend flippancy with accuracy, a recipe that has worked to varying degrees of success
When Ubisoft announced that Assassin’s Creed: Shadows would feature a Black protagonist – a legitimate choice for any artist, even were it not for the fact that Yasuke is based on an actual 16th-century historical figure – there was outcry from the usual agitators and halfwits. These crusader knights are far less interested in whether a person of colour existed in a particular historical context than whether they can stir up a mob to advance their political position (the thing, as ever, they claim their opponents are doing). Every work of history exists in the context of its release. So it is with Shadows, a game released at a moment when the president of the ‘free world’ is waging a war against notions of diversity and inclusion – a fact that certainly contributed to the controversy. Some claimed Assassin’s Creed was going ‘woke’, others that it was historically inaccurate to claim there was ever a Black samurai. (The ruckus eventually provoked Japanese historian Yu Hirayama, author of several books on the Sengoku period, to state that there is “no doubt” that the historical figure Yasuke was a samurai.) The pushback would not be worth commenting on, were it not for the fact that the outcry reached a sufficient level that Ubisoft CEO Yves Guillemot chose to address it.
Rather than take an enlightened stance about his teams’ creative right to make games about whomever they please, Guillemot issued a statement that the publisher is “an entertainment-first company”, one that creates games “for the broadest possible audience”. The statement may have been motivated by eagerness to reassure shareholders; it certainly also pleased racist agitators. Declining to take a political stance – even one as bland as an assertion of an artist’s right to decide freely on the subject of their story – is a profoundly political statement. It was also a betrayal of the game’s writers, designers and those other creative minds, who must have been dispirited to learn that their CEO does not appear to share the courage of their convictions.