Movie poster of the Hollywood film The Sheik, 1921. Cinema Photos/Corbis
January 25, 2015
Is
it easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for an Arab to
appear as a genuine human being?” I posed this question forty years ago, when I
first began researching Arab images. My children, Michael and Michele, who were
six and five years old at the time, are, in part, responsible. Their cries,
“Daddy, Daddy, they’ve got bad Arabs on TV,” motivated me to devote my
professional career to educating people about the stereotype.
It wasn’t easy. Back then my literary agent
spent years trying to find a publisher; he told me he had never before
encountered so much prejudice. He received dozens of rejection letters before
my 1984 book, The TV Arab,
the first ever to document TV’s Arab images, made its debut, thanks to Ray and
Pat Browne, who headed up Bowling Green State University Popular Press. The
Brownes came to our rescue. Regrettably, the damaging stereotypes that
infiltrated the world’s living rooms when The TV Arab
was first released—billionaires, bombers, and belly dancers—are still with us
today. In my subsequent book Reel Bad Arabs
I documented both positive and negative images in Hollywood portrayals of Arabs
dating back to The Sheik
(1921) starring Rudolph Valentino. The Arab-as-villain in cinema remains a
pervasive motif.
This stereotype has a long and powerful history
in the United States, but since the September 11 attacks it has extended its
malignant wingspan, casting a shadow of distrust, prejudice, and fear over the
lives of many American Arabs. Arab Americans are as separate and diverse in
their national origins, faith, traditions, and politics as the general society
in which they live. Yet a common thread unites them now—pervasive bigotry and
vicious stereotypes to which they are increasingly subjected in TV shows,
motion pictures, video games, and in films released by special interest groups.
Reel images have real impacts on real people.
Citing a 2012 poll, journalist William Roberts asserts that “Fifty-five percent
of Arab American Muslims have experienced discrimination and 71 percent fear
future discrimination,” including false arrests to death threats. After 9/11,
as many as two thousand persons may have been detained, virtually all of whom
are Arab and Muslim immigrants. Roberts goes on to explain that 60 percent of
Americans have never met a Muslim, and that since 9/11, thirty new anti-Islamic
hate groups have formed in the United States.
Nowadays, our reel villains are not only Arab
Muslims; some Muslims hail from Russia, Pakistan, Iran, or Afghanistan; others
are homegrown, both black and white American villains who embrace radical
Islam. Given this new mix of baddies, no wonder we view Muslims far worse today
than in the months after 9/11. In October 2001, an ABC poll found that 47
percent of Americans had a favorable view of Islam. As of this writing, only 27
percent of Americans view Muslims favorably.
Thirteen years have passed since the September
11 attacks. Regrettably, stereotypes of Arabs and Muslims persist, replayed and
revived time and time again. Sweeping mischaracterizations continue spreading
like a poisonous virus. One of the first lessons that our children learn from
their media about Arabs, and one of the last lessons the elderly forget, is:
Arab equals Muslim equals Godless enemy.
Indeed, there are some bad Arabs and Muslims
out there—but that goes for people of all races and religions. No one group has
a monopoly on the good and innocent. But this stereotype is so prevalent, so
powerful, that people internalize it and, due to the absence of positive Arab
and Muslim images in popular culture, cannot separate the reel from the real.
You don’t tar an entire race or religion, hundreds of millions of people, based
on the actions of a small minority.
From Tintin to Taken
The pre-9/11 Arab is the
post-9/11 Arab: Reel Arabs appear as terrorists, devious and ugly Arab sheikhs,
and as reel Muslims intent on terrorizing, kidnapping, and sexually abusing
Western heroines. Even reel evil mummies return; this time they pop up in the
United States. Legion of the Dead (2005), for example, is a low-budget,
you-should-never-see-this horror film; it was so bad that I fast-forwarded
through most scenes. The camera reveals an Egyptian burial ground, located not
in the Egyptian desert but in the woods outside of Los Angeles. Here, the
resurrected evil princess, Aneh-Tet, and her reincarnated male mummies go on a
kill-them-all rampage; they melt some people’s faces, and terminate others with
bolts of lightning.
In his children’s movie, The Adventures of Tintin
(2011), Steven Spielberg falls back on the familiar Arabland setting, filling
it with not-so-nice characters, especially the Arab hagglers in the souk. We
also see reel dense and disposable robed guards patrolling a palace that is
ruled by a weird, bearded Arab sheikh called Ben Salaad.
Arab, Afghan, and Pakistani Muslim villains
appear in films such as: Taken
(2008), Taken 2
(2012), Iron Man
(2008), Killer Elite
(2011), and G.I. Joe: Retaliation
(2013). I found Iron Man
difficult to watch because so many reel dead Arab bodies littered the screen. Elite
displays all-too-familiar slurs. Here, reel Arabs appear as dysfunctional,
mute, and unscrupulous “camel jockeys.” One of Hollywood’s ugliest reel sheikhs
ever, an oily Omani potentate who kidnaps and imprisons the Western hero, is
tagged the “old sheikh bastard.”
One-liners and scenes
having nothing to do with Arabs continue to prowl silver screens. My friend
Chuck Yates who taught at Earlham College called my attention to Seth
MacFarlane’s A Million Ways to Die in
the West (2014), a film with
Western movie clichés that takes gratuitous jabs at Arabs, like Mel Brooks’s
1974 film, Blazing Saddles. In Saddles, Brooks links robed Arabs brandishing rifles with a long
line of bad guys, notably Nazis. Million Ways contains two “Arab” scenes that merit our attention. One
scene shows a principal character expressing relief that he has no Arab
ancestry. But “the real howler,” observes Yates, “is in the gunfight showdown
at the end. Here, our hero stalls for time by telling his opponent that he
can’t fight until after he recites the Arab Muslim death chant, and then
proceeds to holler a long string of gibberish.”
About five minutes into the entertaining
children’s movie Nim’s Island
(2008), we see the young heroine reading My Arabian Adventure,
a book by her favorite author, Alex Rover. Abruptly, the camera cuts to the
desert where five armed Arab bandits hold Alex, the Western hero, hostage.
Alex, sitting blindfolded atop a camel, his hands tied behind his back, asks,
“How am I going to die? Will it be by my captives’ guns? Or will it be death by
thirst?” The Arab leader chuckles, “A special hole, just for you! Ever heard of
the pit of spiders!” Alex smiles, then hops off his camel and trounces all five
armed Arabs. End!
Critics were unanimous in praising Matthew
McConaughey’s Oscar-winning role in Dallas Buyers Club
(2013), and rightfully so. He gives a sensitive, sympathetic performance as a
man stricken with AIDS who overcomes numerous obstacles in order to help AIDS
patients get the medication they need. Critics, however, failed to note the blatant defamation of Arabs by McConaughey’s character. Seven minutes into the film, he and
his cowboy pals take a break from working at the rodeo. They sit, smoke, and
discuss possible future employment.
Friend: You think any
more about [going to] Saudi Arabia? They need guys over there.
McConaughey character: Fuck no! Why
would you want to go and work for a sand nigger, anyway?
Friend: Because they pay
five times as much, that’s why.
McConaughey character: They got hot
ass over there?
Friend: It’s a Muslim
country; you can’t fuck the women.
McConaughey character: That takes me
right out, then.
[The three men laugh.]
Homeland and Islamophobia
Critics contended that the 2014 fall line-up on
prime time TV would be the most diverse ever. They cited ten new shows that
would feature Asian, African American, and Latino characters in leading roles.
ABC Studio’s executive vice president, Patrick Moran, boasted, “Maybe other
networks are now rethinking diversity, but for us it always felt that’s what
the world looked like, and it’s just a more contemporary approach to have more
diversity reflected in our shows.”
ABC’s Moran and TV critics did not mention the
absence of Arab American characters. Nor did he or any other TV executive say
that since 1983 the major networks—ABC, CBS, NBC, and now Fox—have not featured
an Arab American protagonist, ever, in an ongoing series.
So, I will break this silence by sharing with
you TV’s shameful history regarding its evolving portraits of America’s Arabs.
Before 9/11 they were basically invisible on TV screens. As far as most TV
producers were concerned, Arab Americans did not exist. Only Danny Thomas in
the Make Room for Daddy
series (1953–1965) and Jamie Farr in M*A*S*H
(1972–1983) could be identified by their Arab roots.
Perhaps they were better off being invisible.
Soon after the September 11 attacks, TV programmers did make America’s Arabs
and Muslims visible, vilifying them as disloyal Americans and as reel
threatening terrorists. They surfaced in numerous popular TV shows as villains,
intent on blowing up America. As I point out in my 2008 book, Guilty: Hollywood’s Verdict on Arabs after 9/11,
as viewers we were bombarded with images showing them as clones of Osama bin
Laden.
The vilification process began with the Fox TV
series 24,
and the 2002 CBS TV movie The President’s Man: A Line in the Sand.
Other TV series expanded on and embellished the stereotype: shows like The West Wing,
Hawaii Five-0,
NCIS,
NCIS Los Angeles,
Tyrant,
Homeland,
The Agency,
Sleeper Cell,
and The Unit.
Regrettably, most film and TV critics remained silent about these dangerous new
images.
An Israeli presence on American TV helped
solidify the stereotype. CBS TV producer Donald P. Bellisario led the way.
Bellisario also demonized Arabs and Muslims in his successful series, JAG
(1995–2005). In 2005, the producer introduced an Israeli heroine, Mossad agent
Ziva David, to his highly rated NCIS
series. In the series, David, the only full-time Israeli character on American
mainstream television, wore a Star of David and an IDF uniform jacket to show
the “military influence” on her character. Like some episodes of JAG,
some NCIS episodes
also advanced prejudices, showing David and her friends trouncing Arab baddies,
in America and in Israel. Bellisario might easily have squashed stereotypes by
adding a heroic Arab character to his series, an agent named Laila Rafeedie, for
instance. David and Rafeedie could be friends, working side-by-side with the NCIS
team to solve murders and catch the bad guys.
Then there’s Homeland,
which remains Islamophobic in its basic structure. Most of the Arab and Muslim
characters in this series are villains, linked to terrorism. As journalist
Laila Al-Alian said in the Guardian:
“Viewers are left to believe that Muslims/Arabs participate in terrorist
networks like Americans send holiday cards.” Also, Islam is vilified; when a
captured American marine is tortured instead of turning to the Islam of peace,
he embraces Hollywood’s stereotype, the Islam of violence. The Showtime series
functions somewhat like 24,
providing a means for the national security state to publicize fantasies of an
Arab Muslim terrorist threat.
The FX channel’s much-hyped filmed-in-Israel
series, Tyrant,
displays some of the most racist anti-Arab images I have ever seen on American
television. The series pits Arabs against Arabs. Consider the first episode:
After a twenty-year absence, Barry (Bassem) Al-Fayeed and his all-American
family return to the mythical Arab nation, Abbudin. Bassem feels obligated to
see his father, Khaled, who rules this violent nation, and to attend his
nephew’s wedding. Immediately, ominous music underscores the action and the
camera reveals Khaled’s other son, the bare-chested, stupid, ruthless, and
“insane” Jamal. He brutally rapes a woman in her home while her family sits
passively, unable to prevent the abuse. Later, at his son’s wedding, Jamal violates
his son’s new wife, his own daughter-in-law, by breaking her hymen with his
fingers in the bathroom and showing the blood.
Almost all of Tyrant’s Arab characters are backward, barbaric types. Or they
are rapists. Or they are warmongers. Or they are rich and spoiled. The show
even depicts an Arab child as a murderer. Repeated flashbacks show Khaled the
dictator directing his men to kill scores of unarmed women and men. As the
massacre ends, Khaled orders one of his sons to shoot dead a helpless man begging
for mercy; when the boy refuses, his younger brother does the deed. Week after
week, the series fueled anti-Arab sentiment.
Tyrant’s
executive producers Gideon Raff and Howard Gordon were responsible for
Showtime’s Homeland,
and they also worked together on Fox’s 24,
so I was not entirely surprised. But I am dismayed that many TV reviewers gave
the series a thumbs-up. The Hollywood Reporter wrote, “The plot is stirring and
entertaining.” The Boston Herald
called Tyrant “the
most engrossing new show of the summer.” At least TIME panned
it: “[Tyrant]
fails badly… [Arab characters] sneer, suffer, and read ridiculous dialogue.”
In 2012, “a small group of creators and
industry types has built a pipeline between Israel and the Los Angeles
entertainment world nine thousand miles away,” writes journalist Steven
Zeitchik. The first-ever Israeli-made drama—Dig—was
sold directly to series (the USA network) for U.S. audiences. Dig
focuses on Peter, an American FBI agent stationed in Jerusalem. A press release
states: “While investigating the murder of a woman, he stumbles into a two
thousand-year-old conspiracy embedded in the archaeological mysteries of the
ancient city.” Nir Barkat, the city’s mayor, is pleased that Dig
is being filmed in Jerusalem. He was also pleased with the Brad Pitt film World War Z,
in 2012. In Z,
the film’s characters and subtitles repeatedly state, incorrectly, that
“Jerusalem is the capital of Israel.”
All-American Muslims
Despite the negative images discussed here,
many positive developments are also taking place. Several impressive TV series
and documentaries focused on Detroit and Dearborn’s Arab Americans and Muslim
Americans, successfully exposing the impact of injurious stereotypes. The
programs also underscored how America’s Arabs and Muslims—from football players
to law enforcement officers—are pretty much like other Americans who contribute
much to the greater society.
In November 2011, the TLC channel began
telecasting its reality show All-American Muslim.
Eight episodes of this critically acclaimed series focus on five Muslim
American families from Dearborn. Though the series was short-lived, it inspired
a nationwide conversation about what it means to openly practice one’s
religion; it also revealed the discrimination America’s Arabs and Muslims
sometimes face. For example, in December a special interest conservative group,
the Florida Family Association, called on advertisers to boycott the series,
calling it “propaganda that riskily hides the Islamic agenda’s clear and present
danger to American liberties and traditional values.” Most sponsors stayed with
the series, but the hardware store Lowe’s, and the travel planning website
Kayak.com, pulled their ads. There was some concern that the reality series
would be taken off the air. But the series was not canceled. In fact, the
advertising time for the remaining episodes sold out.
Commissioned by Detroit Public Television,
producer/director Alicia Sams explored the diversity of Arab Americans in her
13-part Emmy Award-winning series, Arab American Stories
(2012). Each half-hour features three short films, directed by independent
filmmakers from around the country, profiling a wide variety of ordinary Arab
Americans. Episodes focus on people such as Father George Shalhoub of Livonia,
Michigan, who turned St. Mary’s Antiochian Orthodox Church into a positive
force for its churchgoers; Diane Rehm, a national radio host of The Diane Rehm Show;
Fahid Daoud and his brothers, whose chain of Gold Star Chili restaurants began
in Cincinnati and spread throughout southern Ohio; researcher and radiologist
Dr. Elias Zerhouni; hip-hop artist, poet, and activist Omar Offendum, who
offers contemporary messages of cultural understanding; and Hassan Faraj, a
Lebanese-American butcher whose dedication to his work and family inspired a
local theater company to write a performance piece about him.
One year later, PBS telecast three one-hour
episodes of Life of Muhammad,
hosted by the noted journalist and author Rageh Omaar. The series gave viewers
fresh and timely insights into the Islamic faith by focusing on Muhammad’s
life, from his early days in Mecca, to his struggles and eventual acceptance of
his role as prophet, his exodus to Medina, the founding of Islam’s first
constitution, and finally to his death and the legacy he left behind. Some of
the world’s leading academics and commentators on Islam—British novelist and
historian Tom Holland, Bishop Michael Nazir-Ali, and Georgetown University
professor of religion John L. Esposito—spoke about Islamic attitudes toward
charity, women, social equality, religious tolerance, and Islam’s timely role
in the world today.
Some episodes in the commercial TV series, Robin Hood
(2006–2009), show Robin wielding so-called “Saracen” weapons, such as a recurve
bow and a scimitar. The series offers heroic images of an Arab Muslim woman.
The British-Indian actress, Anjali Jay, is featured as Djaq, one of Robin’s
loyal “Merry Men.” Numerous episodes show Djaq helping Robin and his friends
bring down all the villains.
Two commercial networks acted responsibly,
shelving series loaded with stereotypes. In March 2014, The Walt Disney
Company, parent company of ABC and ABC Family, canceled Alice in Arabia,
a series about Arab kidnappers who oppress women. The plot is worth noting: an
American teen is “kidnapped by her Saudi relatives and whisked off to Saudi
Arabia, where she is kept as a prisoner in her Muslim grandfather’s home.”
Alone in Saudi Arabia, “she must count on her independent spirit and wit to
find a way to return home while surviving life behind the veil.”
A Disney spokesperson stated that the series
was canceled because “the current conversation [with the Arab American
Anti-Discrimination Committee and other organizations] surrounding our pilot
was not what we had envisioned and is certainly not conducive to the creative
process, so we’ve decided not to move forward with this project.” This
explanation is pure fluff. If I ever meet the CEO of The Walt Disney Company,
Robert Iger, I will ask him if ABC would even think of doing a similar series
like Alice in Africa, Cathy in China, or Marie in Mexico? If not, why consider
Alice in Arabia?
Disney was criticized for
its portrayal of one of Hollywood’s most ruthless sorcerers, Jafar, in their
1992 animated film, Aladdin. So why did Disney resurrect Jafar in the ABC 2013–2014
series, Once Upon a Time in
Wonderland? Here, the evil magician terrorizes and kills people:
Jafar freezes some, then turns them into dust. Not surprisingly, no heroic Arab
characters appear in Wonderland. When, if ever, will Disney cease vilifying Arabs? Will
a Disney spokesperson ever say: “We are sorry for advancing prejudices. Disney
is a family network; we care about children. We are not in the business of
demonizing a people, a religion, and a region. This will never happen again.”
Weeks after Alice
was axed, Fox unexpectedly canceled one of their well-publicized, 13-episode series, Hieroglyph.
Set in ancient Egypt, Hieroglyph
was about palace intrigue, seductive concubines, criminal underbellies, and
divine sorcerers. “We wanted to do a show about deceit, sex, intrigue in the
court, and fantastical goings-on—no better place to set that than ancient
Egypt,” said Fox entertainment chairman Kevin Reilly.
Yet, Egyptomania persists. In 2015, Spike TV
plans to telecast a series about King Tut. The programs will “dramatize the
royal soap opera that surrounded the throne in 1333 BC.” And in 2016, Universal
will release The Mummy,
yet another reboot of their profitable Mummy franchise.
Desperately needed is an
increased, positive Arab American presence on commercial television. As I have
repeatedly said, the major networks—ABC, CBS, NBC, and now Fox—have not
featured an Arab American protagonist in an ongoing series. Instead, what the
networks have done is to vilify them. The time is long overdue for a
much-needed corrective.
But there have been a few, faint glimmers of
light. In July 2011, Turner Classic Movies (TCM) took a positive step and
confronted the stereotypes head-on in their series, Race and Hollywood: Arab Images on Film.
As curator, I helped select the films that were telecast twice weekly over an
eight-day period. I also served as the series guest expert, discussing at
length with host Robert Osborne all thirty-two “Arab” features, five shorts,
and several cartoons.
One year later, various
PBS stations across the country telecast Michael Singh’s absorbing,
controversial documentary about reel Arabs, Valentino’s Ghost (2012). Then there is producer Chelsea Clinton’s
excellent 34-minute documentary, Of Many (2014), which offers a creative view of relationships
between Jews and Muslims at New York University. Her film focuses on a
developing friendship between Rabbi Yehuda Sarna and Imam Khalid Latif, leaders
of their religious communities at the university.
Credit goes to the producers of TBS TV for the
network’s successful sitcom, Sullivan & Son,
which regularly features comedian Ahmed Ahmed as Ahmed Nasser, an American Arab
Muslim. And AMC’s short-lived 2013 detective series, Low Winter Sun,
also merits recognition. The series featured as one of its main characters a
tough, brilliant cop—an Arab American woman named Dani Khalil. Actress Athena
Karkanis played Khalil.
Finally, one outstanding documentary meriting
special attention is Rashid Ghazi’s Fordson: Faith, Fasting, Football
(2011). Winner of numerous awards, Fordson
follows a predominately Arab American football team from a working class
Detroit suburb struggling for acceptance in post-9/11 America. The camera
focuses on team members, their families, and their coach as they prepare for
their annual big cross-town rivalry game during the last few days of the Muslim
holy month of Ramadan. Ghazi’s film advances racial and religious tolerance. It
should also help young viewers, even non-football fans, to understand that they
and Fordson’s
Arab American students are pretty much alike. Hillary Clinton called this film
“a great documentary and a great story.” After Michael Moore watched it, he
said, “I want everyone in America to watch this film.” Me too, Michael.
And the Winner Is…
Here are some mainstream Hollywood features
that reveal decent Arab and Muslim characters. Two are outer space dramas. For
example, in Gravity
(2013) we see American astronauts exploring outer space. One very brief scene,
however, features astronaut Shariff. He utters only a few words before an
accident occurs, killing him. Including Shariff was probably a tip of the hat
to the Egyptian-American scientist, Farouk El-Baz. Dr. El-Baz worked with NASA
on the first moon landing.
Prominently featured in Ender’s Game (2013) is Alai, an Arab Muslim boy. Early on, some youths
begin to pick on Alai, but the protagonist steps in and protects him. Final
frames show the bright, talented Alai at work with his fellow crew members. Those
who previously harassed him now accept him, and Alai bonds with the
protagonist.
Opening and closing frames of the entertaining
medieval film George and the Dragon
(2004) focus on Tarik, a likeable and courageous, dark-complexioned Moor.
Tarik’s heroics remind me of another reel good Moor, Azeem, who was played by
Morgan Freeman in Kevin Costner’s Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991).
Both Tarik and Azeem save the protagonist’s life, and they help bring down the
film’s villains.
One main character who aids the protagonist in Non-Stop
(2014), a thrilling who-is-trying-to-blow-up-this-plane movie, is an Arab
Muslim character, Dr. Fahim Nasir. At first, some passengers think Dr. Nasir is
the villain, which brings to mind the Arabs in the film Flightplan
(2005), directed by Robert Schwentke, with Jodie Foster. In this movie, some
passengers tagged the Arabs as the bad guys before they were cleared of any
wrongdoing.
There was an increased Arab presence at the
2014 Academy Awards ceremony. Nominated films focused on the people of Egypt,
Palestine, and Yemen. Jehane Noujaim’s compelling movie, The Square
(2013), documenting Egyptians struggling for freedom, was up for Best
Documentary Feature. Sara Ishaq’s moving film Karama Has No Walls
(2012), which focused on Yemen’s revolution, was nominated for Best Documentary
Short Subject. The Academy again recognized Hany Abu-Assad by nominating his Omar (2013),
a tragic love story about Palestinians resisting the occupation, for Best
Foreign Language Film.
Though none of the three nominated “Arab” films
received an Oscar, the nominations reveal a positive trend: Arab filmmakers and
others are creating fresh films dealing with topical issues. Films such as Emad
Burnat’s Five Broken Cameras
(2011), Susan Youssef’s Habibi (2011),
Elia Suleiman’s The Time That Remains
(2009), and Abu-Assad’s Omar
focus on Palestine and how the Israeli occupation impacts Palestinians, young
and old.
To their credit, some
Israeli filmmakers also expose the occupation’s telling effects on innocent
Palestinians. I highly recommend Eran Riklis’ Lemon Tree (2008), and Yuval Adler’s Bethlehem (2013). And from the director of The Syrian Bride, Eran Riklis’s Dancing Arabs (2014) is a well-intentioned movie about coexistence.
Riklis focuses on a young Arab trying to find his place in Israel.
Filmmakers from the United
States, Canada, Morocco, Saudi Arabia, and Lebanon are also in the mix. Nadine
Labaki’s thoughtful Where Do We Go Now (2011) examines events occurring after the country’s
civil war. Labaki’s protagonists, several bright Lebanese women, peacemakers
all, plot to defuse religious tensions between the village’s Muslims and
Christians. In Cherien Dabias’s new film, May in the Summer (2013), the protagonist looks forward to being married in
Amman and being reunited with her Christian family there. But her strong-willed
mother does not want May to wed a Muslim man. See the film to find out whether
May can control the situation.
Then there is Haifaa Al-Mansour’s critically
acclaimed Wadjda
(2012), the first feature ever directed by a Saudi woman. This modest story
about a young girl and her bicycle warms one’s heart, and was shot entirely in
Saudi Arabia. Nabil Ayouch’s gripping Horses of God
(2012) follows four boys from the slums of Morocco who, sadly, become suicide
bombers. And there is also Canada’s Ruba Nadda’s feature, Inescapable
(2012). This intriguing story set in Syria—a police state filled with
not-so-nice intelligence officers—concerns a Canadian Arab’s quest to find his
adult daughter who has gone missing while traveling in Damascus.
I found Rola Nashef’s Detroit Unleaded
(2012) to be a terrific feel-good story about an Arab American couple in love.
Their on and off courtship warmed my heart. Nashef’s friend, Suha Araj, also
came out with a charming short film, The Cup Reader (2013).
Then there’s Sam Kadi’s The Citizen
(2012). Kadi’s compelling story concerns a Lebanese immigrant who arrives in
the United States the day before 9/11. Kadi shows us what happens to this kind
man, who loves America, when fixed prejudices rule the day. In John Slattery’s Casablanca Mon Amour
(2012), two students take a road trip and visit several Moroccan villages.
Along the way, they meet a variety of hospitable Moroccans and see some
captivating scenery.
Axis of Evil
I have been friends with Axis of Evil comedians
Maz Jobrani, Dean Obeidallah, and Ahmed Ahmed since we first met, years ago, at
a conference in Washington, DC. Back then, they were struggling to make a name
for themselves in show business. Directors and agents had warned them that
unless they changed their names they would be relegated to playing three types
of roles: terrorists, sleazy princes, and/or greedy oil sheikhs. But Ahmed
refused, telling journalist Andrew Gumbel: “I’m never going to change my name.
It’s my birth name, my given name.”
After years of setbacks and frustration in
Hollywood, all three comedians and a growing number of other Arab American
comics found a way to avoid being typecast as stereotypical reel bad Arabs.
They moved forward and began using comedy to fight against discrimination.
Instead of remaining silent, they spoke up—and told jokes. They used stand-up
comedy to make the case for Arab and Muslim inclusion in the American “public
square.” When asked why comedy, Ahmed said, “We can’t define who we are on a
serious note because nobody will listen. The only way to do it is to be funny
about it.”
Iranian-American comedian
Maz Jobrani loved Tony, John Travolta’s character from Saturday Night Fever. However, casting directors wanted him for Muslim
stereotypes. Jobrani told his agent, “No more terrorists. I don’t need to play
these parts. It just feels icky. It does. You feel like you are selling out.”
It’s pretty much the same
story with Dean Obeidallah. He, too, refused to take parts that demeaned his
heritage. Instead, he successfully launched himself with his own material,
offering more positive images of Arabs and Muslims. He was featured prominently
in the 2008 PBS special, Stand Up: Muslim American Comics Come
of Age.
All three comedians have
had thriving careers at premier stand-up venues, in the United States and abroad. Their live
comedy performances are available on DVD and Netflix. And all three made
impressive independent features and documentary films. The first was Ahmed’s
thoughtful and entertaining documentary, Just Like Us (2010). The film shows Ahmed and his fellow stand-up
comedians being well received by audiences from New York to Dubai; especially
moving are Ahmed’s scenes with his Los Angeles family.
Jobrani’s comedy specials Brown & Friendly
(2009) and I Come in Peace
(2013) show highlights from his stand-up comedy special live performances here
and in Stockholm. In 2013, Jobrani also produced Shirin in Love,
a pleasing, independent romantic comedy focusing on the attraction between the
Iranian protagonist, Shirin, and her non-Iranian mate.
That same year, Obeidallah, along with Negin
Farsad, produced, directed, and starred in the documentary The Muslims Are Coming!
(2013). Familiar names like Jon Stewart and Rachel Maddow appear, offering
insightful commentary that exposes and contests discrimination. We also see
ordinary Americans, from Arizona to Alabama, interacting with Obeidallah’s
comedians before and after they perform in several major cities. Closing “Hug a
Muslim” frames are especially memorable.
Finally, the Detroit area is the setting for
Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady’s documentary, The Education of Mohammad Hussein
(2013). The film offers compelling insights into a post-9/11 America that
struggles to live up to its promise of civil justice for all. The documentary
focuses on a tightly knit Muslim community in the Detroit Hamtramck
neighborhood. Here, American Muslim children attend a traditional Islamic
school—leading their faith and patriotism to be scrutinized. We see what
happens when the children and their neighbors meet the Koran-burning Florida
preacher Terry Jones: his hate-rhetoric fails to provoke them.
Not so long ago these up-and-coming young
filmmakers were struggling artists, just beginning their careers. Some were
only thinking about making films; others had just written rough drafts. Yet
despite all the obstacles they faced, they went on to direct and produce
inventive independent films—films that challenge racial, gender, and religious
stereotypes, films that make us laugh and think at the same time.
Stereotypes and Steelworkers
I wrote The TV Arab
to help to make unjust Arab portraits visible. Along the way, I discovered
painful lessons about what happens to people—be they Arab, Asian, African, Hispanic,
or Jew—when they are continuously dehumanized. So, I tried to save readers like
you from being subjected to these heinous stereotypes, writing that “a more
balanced view of Arabs” was necessary, and that unless we counter this
stereotype, innocent people will suffer. And, sadly, they have.
We still have a long way to go. No matter. I
have a deep and abiding faith that young storytellers from Arkansas to Abu
Dhabi will eventually shatter damaging portraits, image by image. Artists will
lead the way, creating inventive, realistic Arab portraits. I recall the wisdom
expressed by Vaclav Havel, former president of the Czech Republic, in his book The Art of the Impossible: Politics as Morality in Practice,
“None of us as an individual can save the world as a whole… But each of us must
behave as though it was in his power to do so.”
My optimism is always renewed by going back to
what I learned growing up in Pittsburgh. As I wrote in The TV Arab,
“In Clairton’s steel mills I shared sweat with men of many ethnic backgrounds.
Mutual respect prevailed. Steelworkers can wipe out stereotypes. So can writers
and producers.”
Writers and producers, actors and directors,
you and I—we still can wipe out stereotypes; it’s in our power to do so.
Excerpted from Reel Bad Arabs: How Hollywood Vilifies a People, by Jack G. Shaheen. Copyright © 2015 by Jack G. Shaheen. With permission from
the publisher, Interlink Publishing.
Jack G. Shaheen is a distinguished visiting
scholar at New York University’s Hagop Kevorkian Center for Near Eastern
Studies. He is a former consultant for CBS News as well as for many films,
including Syriana and Three Kings. His extensive collection of representations of Arabs and Muslims, notably
motion pictures, is housed at New York University. He is the author of The TV Arab; Reel Bad
Arabs: How Hollywood Vilifies a People; Guilty:
Hollywood’s Verdict on Arabs after 9/11; and A is For Arab: Archiving
Stereotypes in U.S. Popular Culture.