Issue 3: May/June

VOICES
One War, Two Channels

A Young Arab-American Keeps One Finger on the Remote

Watching the news at my parents' house, in their Arab-styled living room in Pasadena, California, isn't easy these days. We have two mammoth remote controls that we just can't figure out. Our mission: to switch between the satellite television that airs al-Jazeera and American broadcast outlets like CNN and ABC. Switching channels shouldn't be so hard.

My parents installed satellite TV a few years ago so they could tune into a popular Syrian soap. During the war in Iraq, however, they found it hard to revel in nostalgia. By virtue of similar experience, language, and culture, the Iraqi people are their brethren, under a dictatorship similar to what they faced growing up in Syria. Every night, with two remotes in hand, they flipped between al-Jazeera and CNN, sometimes successfully, hoping to get a sense of what was really happening on the ground.

When al-Jazeera first aired in the U.S., my father was ecstatic that an independent Arab news outlet existed, one not overtly run by a state. Al-Jazeera criticized the untouchables — Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and Jordan. It brought on guests who debated controversial topics and criticized government leaders. It challenged both Arab governments and U.S. policies, something that my parents and other Arab-Americans believe U.S.-based channels fail to do.

But Arab-American opinion about al-Jazeera has become more complex and polarized in wartime. Detroit residents attacked an al-Jazeera correspondent because they believed the network's coverage to be too anti-American. Meanwhile, other Arab-Americans believe that the al-Jazeera offices in both Iraq and Afghanistan were deliberately targeted by the U.S. military. Some even believe al-Jazeera is in cahoots with the American and Israeli governments, airing Osama bin Laden videos at moments beneficial to U.S. interests. Still, even those who are critical of it continue to watch. It's one of the few news channels that show images of wounded Palestinians and Iraqis. On al-Jazeera, at least, Arab life seems to matter.

I now live in New York, and al-Jazeera is no longer a daily staple for me. I have to go to smoky shee-sha or hookah bars or to friends' houses to watch the popular and controversial al-Jazeera.

The Egyptian Café in Astoria, Queens, is one such place. Arab men — Egyptians, Palestinians, Yemenis, Syrians — and occasionally women, visit the café after a long day at work to sip mint tea, play backgammon, and smoke fruit-flavored shee-shas. Lime-green and pink walls adorned with gold-framed mirrors remind the visitor of Cairo. In the corner, a large, flat-screen television blares al-Jazeera.

I visited the café on the day that the Iraqi regime seemed to have fallen — when the statue of Saddam Hussein in al-Fardus Square was toppled. On U.S. channels the statue's fall was shown all day long. On al-Jazeera, it was only a small part of a big picture. The Arab channel conveyed the chaos of the streets, broadcasting images of people both celebrating and looting. Al-Jazeera even made sure to show a picture of an Iraqi man celebrating by waving a picture of Dick Cheney. But it also showed the anguish of Iraqi civilians: images from Basra of a wounded boy, his face partially burned off.

In the café, a Somali woman with a red velvet hat and burgundy wrap elegantly smoked her shee-sha, glancing occasionally at the screen. When the soldier draped an American flag on the face of the statue, she sighed. "I stopped watching this — it's so depressing," she said, though she kept watching.

Nabil Mohamad, an architect who has been in the U.S. for twenty-five years, announced that al-Jazeera is the only channel not influenced by the supporters of Israel. "It tells you the truth and it's not controlled by the Jews, like the media here," he asserted. He watches the satellite channel at home every night.

"You can't believe any station," said another man, an Egyptian archeologist named Hassan who works in a thrift shop in Flushing and who said he watches all news outlets. "When you watch al-Jazeera, you see what they do to the people, not what the army is doing. Al-Jazeera shows the bad side of America. CNN shows you the bad side of the Iraqi government. I watch CNN — nobody gets killed. I watch al-Jazeera — it's like a tragedy."

When I visit my parents back in Pasadena, I still struggle with the two remotes, as I am struggling with the two worlds of al-Jazeera and CNN. Hassan just might be right when he concludes that "something is missing" from both of them.

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