R
Robert Siegel
Guest
Read the following by an Egyptian journalist about the Arab propaganda that the anti-war extremists
apparently love to believe:
***
The Arab world has experienced (distortion by Arab news media) before. In 1967, Egyptian reporter
Ahmed Said announced that Arab guns were bringing Israeli planes down like flies. A week later
Arabs woke up to the fact that their armies had been roundly defeated. With that, Arab media lost
credibility and audiences turned to foreign stations. It would take almost 25 years for the Arab
media to regain some credibility. Their coverage of this war could well cause them to lose it
once more.
washingtonpost.com Perceptions: Where Al-Jazeera & Co. Are Coming From
By Mamoun Fandy
Sunday, March 30, 2003; Page B01
The recent airing of gruesome pictures of American casualties and POWs has again set the American
media talking about the unbridled nature of Arab television, particularly the Qatar-owned al-Jazeera
network. Indeed, the Arabs are watching a different war than we are here.
Their war is presented for television consumption using the templates of the recent past: the
Palestinian intifada, the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, the 1956 Suez War. The imagery of the past infuses
the interpretation of the current war with familiar meaning -- and makes coverage easy.
The formats used by the growing number of 24-hour, satellite-based Arab news channels would be
familiar to American viewers. There is a mix of news talk shows, press briefings, anchors reading
headlines and then turning to video footage of the war. But the messages are uniformly
anti-American: Americans are barbaric, and here are the pictures to prove it. We Arabs are heroic,
and here are images of us downing their planes. Shots of Iraqi civilian casualties are a highlight
of the coverage, as are those that show the "invading" forces suffering routs and setbacks.
Some American commentators have dismissively attributed the violence of Arab television coverage to
the nature of the culture. The truth, of course, is more complicated. To understand the coverage,
one must take into account the narratives that have shaped the Arab worldview. As an Egyptian who
has lived in this country for 18 years, and as a media critic with an eye on both worlds, I
recognize the references that shape the Arab coverage of this war. They span historical events from
the Crusades to the Mongol invasions of Baghdad to the colonial experience and the recent
Arab-Israeli wars.
These elements are also found in the speeches of Saddam Hussein and interviews with his foreign
minister, Tariq Aziz. Quite simply, this is the frame of reference for the Iraqi wartime message,
and no Arab network questions that.
Here in the United States, we tend to think of images only in terms of cameras and television:
Photography is separate from narrative. In the Arab world, language is full of images, which cannot
be separated from narrative. Arabic is a metaphorical language, rich in shades of meaning.
The image-based style of the Arabic language acts as an excellent interface with pictures. Thus
television is terribly important. Consider the effect achieved, for example, when Majid Abdul Hadi,
an al-Jazeera reporter in Baghdad, shows a picture of a coalition bomb landing while referring to
Baghdad as the pulsing heart of the Muslim caliphate, a pulsing heart engulfed in flame.
What appears in this country as rantings and ravings by Hussein can seem coherent to people who are
not bothered by his manner of stitching together disparate or historical images with current events.
Recall that in his latest videotaped speech, he called for descendants of the Iraqi tribes who had
defeated the Mongols at the walls of Baghdad to defeat the Americans in the same way. The overall
impression is like being at a slide show. What Americans have seen in the POW pictures is thus just
one moment in an ongoing spectacle. More is yet to come.
Among the templates being used -- not just on al-Jazeera, but on almost all Arab TV stations -- is
the Palestinian struggle against Israel, an analogy that Hussein has also used to advantage.
Consider his use, only since the start of the war, of the term "fedayeen Saddam" to describe his
protective force. "Fedayeen" has been used for years to refer to the PLO fighters of the 1960s and
'70s. By appropriating it, Hussein is attempting to blur the lines between the Palestinian cause
and his own.
Unfortunately, the Pentagon and some of the media initially took his bait. "Fedayeen" has been
translated here as "martyrs," giving it a religious connotation. But the word in fact means "someone
who is willing to sacrifice himself" -- in this case, for Saddam. If the Pentagon had wanted to use
"fedayeen" to advantage, it would have translated it as "killers for Saddam."
The Palestinian template has been useful in other ways, particularly in emphasizing the asymmetry of
the opposing forces. Like its coverage of the intifada, al-Jazeera's reporting on the war in Iraq
depicts a relatively unarmed populace facing down a trained army. Palestinians fielded the al-Aqsa
Martyrs Brigade against the Israeli army, for instance. And now the Iraqi leader, too, has an
al-Aqsa brigade, which, like his fedayeen, is fighting a battle that eerily echoes the Palestinian
one. His deliberate borrowing of terms is clearly manipulative. The same parallel pervades
television coverage. For instance, on al-Jazeera and some other networks, the Americans are
described as an "invading" or "occupying" force. The Iraqi military is the "resistance." Al-Jazeera
and Abu Dhabi TV have shown dead Iraqis being paraded through the streets by crowds shouting "Allahu
Akbar" -- intifada-style. Broadcasters and viewers alike speak of Hussein using the language
developed for speaking of Arafat: Both are corrupt dictators, but the issue now is that America and
Israel are occupying Arab land.
Thus, although Israel is not participating in this war, it looms large in the meta-story. It
provides an important model of a dominating and unjust force. But this is not the only model that is
driving news coverage in the Arab world.
Other dominant models evoke Arab pride. One recurring television image is that of an Iraqi farmer
standing with his gun next to a downed Apache helicopter. This iconic picture -- the simple peasant
defeating Western invaders -- is taken directly from the popular imagery of the Suez War, when
Israel, Britain and France attacked Egypt. Although in reality the United States saved the day and
ordered the invading forces out, in the Egyptian popular imagination it was the local resistance
that drove out the occupying forces. Pictures of men shooting at planes and of farmers and workers
resisting the mighty powers is what Nasser fed Egyptians and exported all over the Arab world.
Why do the Arab TV networks accept the Iraqi narrative lock, stock and barrel? State-owned satellite
news channels such as al-Jazeera and Abu Dhabi TV are very recent creations. Al-Jazeera, the oldest
such channel in the Gulf, did not exist during the first Persian Gulf War. Based in Qatar, it was
established in 1996. Al-Arabiya, based in Dubai, is only three months old. The people who work at
these stations were by and large recruited from state-owned television networks throughout the Arab
world. Thus, they are reacting to their own past. While they were working in state TV they no doubt
felt oppressed; now they have somewhat more freedom. But they are pushing the envelope, as are their
colleagues at entertainment channels such as Lebanon's al-Mustaqbal and LBC TV, which have added
some war coverage to their schedule. Before the war, Future and LBC competed over whose
belly-dancers showed more skin. Now it's about who will show the most Iraqi civilian blood and
American casualties. Now, as Egyptian TV producer Jamal Enyat told me, "it is political nudity," or
what some call "political porno," that is dominating their screens.
Beneath the Arab modes of visual representation, the West is also present. Indeed, Arab coverage
often copies the CNN and Fox News formats. Today, just like CNN, every one of the 10 Arab channels I
watch, or appear on as a commentator, has a "war room" staffed with retired generals discussing the
progress of the war and freely advising the Iraqis how to conduct it. In this way, these veterans of
Arab wars are compensating for past defeat with on-air political speeches.
The tone of many reporters in Baghdad is much the same. The image drives the story. For example, an
al-Jazeera reporter in the Iraqi capital falsely told his viewers on the first day of the air
campaign, "Here in Baghdad, a city accused of hiding weapons of mass destruction is being hit by
weapons of mass destruction." This kind of repetition is the stuff that has made Arabic poetry so
justly admired. Here, the rhythm and sonority of the language act to encourage audience disregard
for the true definitions of the words being used.
With few exceptions, ethical constraints are rarely discussed in the Arab media, where the notion of
editorial judgment sounds to many like censorship. Several have said it reminds them of what they
had to do while they were working for state-owned broadcasters. Reporters and producers know what
their viewers want to see: images of empowerment and resistance because of past defeats. They also
want to see what Hussein's information minister, Muhammed Said al-Sahaf, calls teaching the
Americans a lesson. "We are no less than the Vietnamese. Just make it costly in body bags and the
Americans will run," said a general who comments regularly on al-Jazeera. Some Arab journalists say
they have little choice but to go along. "The cost of speaking out now -- even to simply say that
Saddam is partially responsible for what is taking place -- is very high. It could cost you your job
and could even cause you physical harm," said one.
The Arab world has experienced that before. In 1967, Egyptian reporter Ahmed Said announced that
Arab guns were bringing Israeli planes down like flies. A week later Arabs woke up to the fact that
their armies had been roundly defeated. With that, Arab media lost credibility and audiences turned
to foreign stations. It would take almost 25 years for the Arab media to regain some credibility.
Their coverage of this war could well cause them to lose it once more.
Mamoun Fandy, a columnist for the London-based Asharq al-Awsat newspaper, teaches a media and
politics course at Georgetown University.
© 2003 The Washington Post Company
Gator Bob Siegel in Gainesville FL
--
Gator Bob Siegel EasyRacers Ti Rush
apparently love to believe:
***
The Arab world has experienced (distortion by Arab news media) before. In 1967, Egyptian reporter
Ahmed Said announced that Arab guns were bringing Israeli planes down like flies. A week later
Arabs woke up to the fact that their armies had been roundly defeated. With that, Arab media lost
credibility and audiences turned to foreign stations. It would take almost 25 years for the Arab
media to regain some credibility. Their coverage of this war could well cause them to lose it
once more.
washingtonpost.com Perceptions: Where Al-Jazeera & Co. Are Coming From
By Mamoun Fandy
Sunday, March 30, 2003; Page B01
The recent airing of gruesome pictures of American casualties and POWs has again set the American
media talking about the unbridled nature of Arab television, particularly the Qatar-owned al-Jazeera
network. Indeed, the Arabs are watching a different war than we are here.
Their war is presented for television consumption using the templates of the recent past: the
Palestinian intifada, the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, the 1956 Suez War. The imagery of the past infuses
the interpretation of the current war with familiar meaning -- and makes coverage easy.
The formats used by the growing number of 24-hour, satellite-based Arab news channels would be
familiar to American viewers. There is a mix of news talk shows, press briefings, anchors reading
headlines and then turning to video footage of the war. But the messages are uniformly
anti-American: Americans are barbaric, and here are the pictures to prove it. We Arabs are heroic,
and here are images of us downing their planes. Shots of Iraqi civilian casualties are a highlight
of the coverage, as are those that show the "invading" forces suffering routs and setbacks.
Some American commentators have dismissively attributed the violence of Arab television coverage to
the nature of the culture. The truth, of course, is more complicated. To understand the coverage,
one must take into account the narratives that have shaped the Arab worldview. As an Egyptian who
has lived in this country for 18 years, and as a media critic with an eye on both worlds, I
recognize the references that shape the Arab coverage of this war. They span historical events from
the Crusades to the Mongol invasions of Baghdad to the colonial experience and the recent
Arab-Israeli wars.
These elements are also found in the speeches of Saddam Hussein and interviews with his foreign
minister, Tariq Aziz. Quite simply, this is the frame of reference for the Iraqi wartime message,
and no Arab network questions that.
Here in the United States, we tend to think of images only in terms of cameras and television:
Photography is separate from narrative. In the Arab world, language is full of images, which cannot
be separated from narrative. Arabic is a metaphorical language, rich in shades of meaning.
The image-based style of the Arabic language acts as an excellent interface with pictures. Thus
television is terribly important. Consider the effect achieved, for example, when Majid Abdul Hadi,
an al-Jazeera reporter in Baghdad, shows a picture of a coalition bomb landing while referring to
Baghdad as the pulsing heart of the Muslim caliphate, a pulsing heart engulfed in flame.
What appears in this country as rantings and ravings by Hussein can seem coherent to people who are
not bothered by his manner of stitching together disparate or historical images with current events.
Recall that in his latest videotaped speech, he called for descendants of the Iraqi tribes who had
defeated the Mongols at the walls of Baghdad to defeat the Americans in the same way. The overall
impression is like being at a slide show. What Americans have seen in the POW pictures is thus just
one moment in an ongoing spectacle. More is yet to come.
Among the templates being used -- not just on al-Jazeera, but on almost all Arab TV stations -- is
the Palestinian struggle against Israel, an analogy that Hussein has also used to advantage.
Consider his use, only since the start of the war, of the term "fedayeen Saddam" to describe his
protective force. "Fedayeen" has been used for years to refer to the PLO fighters of the 1960s and
'70s. By appropriating it, Hussein is attempting to blur the lines between the Palestinian cause
and his own.
Unfortunately, the Pentagon and some of the media initially took his bait. "Fedayeen" has been
translated here as "martyrs," giving it a religious connotation. But the word in fact means "someone
who is willing to sacrifice himself" -- in this case, for Saddam. If the Pentagon had wanted to use
"fedayeen" to advantage, it would have translated it as "killers for Saddam."
The Palestinian template has been useful in other ways, particularly in emphasizing the asymmetry of
the opposing forces. Like its coverage of the intifada, al-Jazeera's reporting on the war in Iraq
depicts a relatively unarmed populace facing down a trained army. Palestinians fielded the al-Aqsa
Martyrs Brigade against the Israeli army, for instance. And now the Iraqi leader, too, has an
al-Aqsa brigade, which, like his fedayeen, is fighting a battle that eerily echoes the Palestinian
one. His deliberate borrowing of terms is clearly manipulative. The same parallel pervades
television coverage. For instance, on al-Jazeera and some other networks, the Americans are
described as an "invading" or "occupying" force. The Iraqi military is the "resistance." Al-Jazeera
and Abu Dhabi TV have shown dead Iraqis being paraded through the streets by crowds shouting "Allahu
Akbar" -- intifada-style. Broadcasters and viewers alike speak of Hussein using the language
developed for speaking of Arafat: Both are corrupt dictators, but the issue now is that America and
Israel are occupying Arab land.
Thus, although Israel is not participating in this war, it looms large in the meta-story. It
provides an important model of a dominating and unjust force. But this is not the only model that is
driving news coverage in the Arab world.
Other dominant models evoke Arab pride. One recurring television image is that of an Iraqi farmer
standing with his gun next to a downed Apache helicopter. This iconic picture -- the simple peasant
defeating Western invaders -- is taken directly from the popular imagery of the Suez War, when
Israel, Britain and France attacked Egypt. Although in reality the United States saved the day and
ordered the invading forces out, in the Egyptian popular imagination it was the local resistance
that drove out the occupying forces. Pictures of men shooting at planes and of farmers and workers
resisting the mighty powers is what Nasser fed Egyptians and exported all over the Arab world.
Why do the Arab TV networks accept the Iraqi narrative lock, stock and barrel? State-owned satellite
news channels such as al-Jazeera and Abu Dhabi TV are very recent creations. Al-Jazeera, the oldest
such channel in the Gulf, did not exist during the first Persian Gulf War. Based in Qatar, it was
established in 1996. Al-Arabiya, based in Dubai, is only three months old. The people who work at
these stations were by and large recruited from state-owned television networks throughout the Arab
world. Thus, they are reacting to their own past. While they were working in state TV they no doubt
felt oppressed; now they have somewhat more freedom. But they are pushing the envelope, as are their
colleagues at entertainment channels such as Lebanon's al-Mustaqbal and LBC TV, which have added
some war coverage to their schedule. Before the war, Future and LBC competed over whose
belly-dancers showed more skin. Now it's about who will show the most Iraqi civilian blood and
American casualties. Now, as Egyptian TV producer Jamal Enyat told me, "it is political nudity," or
what some call "political porno," that is dominating their screens.
Beneath the Arab modes of visual representation, the West is also present. Indeed, Arab coverage
often copies the CNN and Fox News formats. Today, just like CNN, every one of the 10 Arab channels I
watch, or appear on as a commentator, has a "war room" staffed with retired generals discussing the
progress of the war and freely advising the Iraqis how to conduct it. In this way, these veterans of
Arab wars are compensating for past defeat with on-air political speeches.
The tone of many reporters in Baghdad is much the same. The image drives the story. For example, an
al-Jazeera reporter in the Iraqi capital falsely told his viewers on the first day of the air
campaign, "Here in Baghdad, a city accused of hiding weapons of mass destruction is being hit by
weapons of mass destruction." This kind of repetition is the stuff that has made Arabic poetry so
justly admired. Here, the rhythm and sonority of the language act to encourage audience disregard
for the true definitions of the words being used.
With few exceptions, ethical constraints are rarely discussed in the Arab media, where the notion of
editorial judgment sounds to many like censorship. Several have said it reminds them of what they
had to do while they were working for state-owned broadcasters. Reporters and producers know what
their viewers want to see: images of empowerment and resistance because of past defeats. They also
want to see what Hussein's information minister, Muhammed Said al-Sahaf, calls teaching the
Americans a lesson. "We are no less than the Vietnamese. Just make it costly in body bags and the
Americans will run," said a general who comments regularly on al-Jazeera. Some Arab journalists say
they have little choice but to go along. "The cost of speaking out now -- even to simply say that
Saddam is partially responsible for what is taking place -- is very high. It could cost you your job
and could even cause you physical harm," said one.
The Arab world has experienced that before. In 1967, Egyptian reporter Ahmed Said announced that
Arab guns were bringing Israeli planes down like flies. A week later Arabs woke up to the fact that
their armies had been roundly defeated. With that, Arab media lost credibility and audiences turned
to foreign stations. It would take almost 25 years for the Arab media to regain some credibility.
Their coverage of this war could well cause them to lose it once more.
Mamoun Fandy, a columnist for the London-based Asharq al-Awsat newspaper, teaches a media and
politics course at Georgetown University.
© 2003 The Washington Post Company
Gator Bob Siegel in Gainesville FL
--
Gator Bob Siegel EasyRacers Ti Rush
