Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Al Jazeera: A Voice for the Voiceless?

I grew up in Jeddah, on Saudi Arabia’s Red Sea coast, watching Al Jazeera alongside my family, neighbours and millions of people across the Middle East and North Africa. The local media in Saudi Arabia was and still is state-controlled, and local news offered only mind-numbingly dull views. We sought refuge in Al Jazeera, where ‘the opinion and the other opinion’ – the broadcaster’s motto – could be heard. At the beginning of the 2000s, Al Jazeera’s most popular programme, The Other Direction, hosted a Saudi dissident who had blasted the king of Saudi Arabia, Abdullah bin Abdulaziz Al Saud, live on television. This episode in particular caused great controversy; people would glance left and right and drop their voices to a whisper before discussing what they had seen on Al Jazeera.

Its critical voice has often not been welcome, and the station has had plenty of trouble right from the start.We in the Arab world are accustomed to state-controlled news, and most local media are mere propaganda machines serving the state’s interest. History has shown this: in 1967 during the Arab-Israeli war, the anchor of the popular Sawt al-Arab (Voice of the Arabs) radio programme based in Cairo declared falsely that the Arab armies had crushed the Israeli army and reached Tel Aviv; it was only through foreign media that people learnt that the Arab armies had in fact been utterly defeated and local media were lying. In 1990, residents of Saudi Arabia did not know about the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait for three days, as the royal family ordered local media outlets not to inform the public of the onset of the Gulf War. Arabs’ trust in local media has been shattered ever since.

Al Jazeera was a platform that revolutionised Arab journalism and broke its mould, with programmes that dared to air the voices of dissent and allowed criticism of monarchies and dictators on live television, something once unthinkable in the Arab world. As a young journalist in Saudi Arabia, I worked as a correspondent for a youth website in Doha sponsored by Al Jazeera. On this website I had a platform to publish articles censored by local Saudi newspaper Al-Madina, addressing the human rights situation, the arrest of reformists and the condition of womens’ rights in the Saudi Kingdom. In one case, after the arrest of blogger Fouad al-Farhan in late 2007, I interviewed his wife about the circumstances of his detention. The editor of my local newspaper refused to report on the case, but Al Jazeera Talk published my article.

Of course, the broadcaster's clear biases have always been evident. While Al Jazeera would happily cover a crackdown on human rights in a neighbour state, its gaze seemed less likely to linger on the situation in its home of Qatar. Since its first broadcast in 1996, the pan-Arab television station has styled itself as the pulpit for those with no pulpit. But as Qatar pro-democracy activist Ali Khalifa Al Kuwari wrote in his book The People Want Reform… in Qatar, Too (published in 2012), this pulpit does not extend to the people of Qatar themselves, who can only express discontent with the country’s ruling monarchy in private.

Media as Soft Power

 

Al Jazeera was founded in 1996 by then Emir of Qatar Hamad al-Thani. The ruler of the tiny peninsula with a native population of well under half a million was concerned for his nation’s future. How could this tiny yet wealthy state survive an anarchic world? Would it be swallowed by giant neighbouring countries, as Kuwait almost was in 1990? Moreover, Saudi hegemony and its promises to protect the security of its neighbouring Gulf states under the umbrella of the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) were found wanting when it failed to protect Kuwait from Iraqi aggression. This, among other reasons, led Qatar’s rulers to search for alternatives to guarantee its security and dismantle its dependence on Saudi Arabia, crafting a unique foreign policy to protect its interests and its fragile national security. The regime became close to friends but even closer to enemies. Qatar established relations from Washington to Tehran, the Muslim Brotherhood to Israel, hosted international events, played the role of peacemaker in a febrile region, and constructed Al Jazeera as one of its soft power arms. Oil and gas revenues have facilitated the cost of its foreign policy.
The Doha skyline at night.
The role of Al Jazeera in the Arab world was thrust into the spotlight by the Qatar diplomatic crisis. The UAE and Saudi Arabia demanded that the station be shut down, though they later backed away from the demand after a global outcry.Photograph: zenith 
The channel was built on the ruins of BBC Arabic, which was disbanded in the mid-1990s due to disagreement between the network and its Saudi Arabian partners, after the Saudis attempted to censor the broadcast when it discussed Saudi ruling family affairs. The sudden closure left many media professionals unemployed; they were promptly recruited by Al Jazeera. Editors, reporters and producers were highly skilled and highly trained, and there was pride inside the channel – at least prior to the Arab Spring – where people compared its journalistic style to the BBC. Its critical voice has often not been welcome, and the station has had plenty of trouble right from the start. Its offices were bombarded by the American air force in Iraq and Afghanistan; its journalists have spent time in prison for doing their job; and it is often criticised by governments across the Middle East, in public and – more stridently – in private.

Saudi Arabia, the big brother of the Gulf, views Qatar as a troubling actor and has sought to defuse its influence in the region. Al Jazeera has been at the heart of this dispute since the early 2000s, after allowing Saudi opposition figures to speak on Al Jazeera Arabic. The Saudi government withdrew its diplomatic mission from Doha and ordered the Qatari mission to leave Saudi territory, and the station was not allowed to have an office in the Kingdom. Tensions between Saudi Arabia and Qatar were reduced when the current emir, Tamim Al-Thani, came to power in 2013; Al Jazeera was allowed to cover the pilgrimage season in the two holy cities and eventually the channel was permitted to open an office in Riyadh.

Then Came the Arab Spring


But things changed for Al Jazeera in 2011 as the Arab Spring shook the region. While Al Jazeera English, launched in 2007, continued to uphold a level of professional objectivity (except with respect to criticism of the Qatari regime), its Arabic programming completely lost its compass, and it is undeniable that Al Jazeera Arabic became a vehicle for promoting Qatar’s agenda. For instance, the network boosted Qatari-backed rebel fighters in Libya and Syria and the Muslim Brotherhood across the region, in an attempt to empower a new political ideology to balance Saudi hegemony. Al Jazeera’s support for the Muslim Brotherhood and its criticisms of Arab governments have brought it into the current Gulf diplomatic crisis.

We should support the rights of Al Jazeera – both its Arabic and English channels – to information and freedom of expression.And while Al Jazeera Arabic was vocal in reporting on the dramatic political changes that swept across Tunisia, Egypt and Libya, this enthusiasm was restricted to certain countries; the channel did not cover the Shia minority’s demands for equal citizenship and democracy in Bahrain and Saudi Arabia, nor did Syria receive adequate coverage at the beginning of the uprising. I was one of the young Arabs who signed a petition to the network demanding that it follow the same editorial policy in covering revolutions across the region.

I was also shocked by the reshuffle of the channel’s leadership, which culminated in the resignation of veteran journalist Wadah Khanfar as director general in September 2011, and his replacement by a member of the Qatari royal family, Ahmed bin Jassim Al Thani, who served until 2013. The change suggested to me that the station was moving further away from its principles of impartiality and objectivity. These dramatic shifts in the channel’s leadership and policies led to a decline in its popularity, compounded by the fact that local media outlets in the region had multiplied rapidly thanks to the freedom granted by the revolutions, allowing diverse views.

But the impact of Al Jazeera on the people of the Middle East – who are thirsty for free media – has been greater than perhaps even its founder anticipated. For more than 20 years, Al Jazeera has weathered countless political storms in the region. I admit that I no longer romanticise Al Jazeera Arabic as I did when I was a young journalist glued to its coverage from the other side of the peninsula. Since 2011, I have often questioned the veracity of the channel’s coverage. I will remain critical until the channel relinquishes its role as a mouthpiece for the Qatari government, and until Ali Khalifa Al Kuwari and his fellow reformist citizens in Qatar are given a platform to challenge the undemocratic state of Qatar.

But whether Al Jazeera’s journalism is objective or not, and whether it is propagating Qatar’s foreign policy views or not, we should still stand wholeheartedly for the principle of free speech and deny the infuriating call by Saudi Arabia and the UAE to close the channel. It is absurd that a country like Saudi Arabia – with a horrifying human rights record and its own connections to terrorism – should accuse Al Jazeera and Qatar of backing terrorist organisations. We should support the rights of Al Jazeera – both its Arabic and English channels – to information and freedom of expression. At the same time we should continue to scrutinise, and if necessary criticise, the content of the channel and in some cases the partial stance of its reporting. Al Jazeera was the first attempt to plant the seeds of freedom of expression in the Arabian Desert. This should not be forgotten.


* This essay was first published at Zenith Magazine 

Hana Al-Khamri formerly worked as a journalist in Saudi Arabia. Currently based in Sweden, she works as a consultant for NGOs and as an analyst and commentator on Yemen and Saudi Arabia.

في المملكة العربية السعودية: حيازة الكلمات الحرة كحيازة المخدرات


أتذكر الإتصال بالمحامي والحقوقي السعودي وليد أبو الخير من عاصمة أوربية ، لاسئله إذا كان يرى خطورة على حياتي في عودتي للمملكة العربية السعودية بعد نشري مقالات تنتقد الوضع الحقوقي والسياسي في البلاد.

 " هم يستطيعون تكبيل شعبهم، لكنهم لا يجرؤن على فعل أي شيء ضد رجل غربي." هذه ما قاله أبو الخير في حديث هاتفي بيننا ملمحاً بأن حملي لجنسية أوربية قد تحميني من تحرشات السلطات السعودية  . وتابع قائلاً: " الكثير من كتاب الرأي الغربيون كتبوا وانتقدوا المملكة لكنهم لم يعاقبوا، هذا النظام بس يقدر علينا" وقع كلماته مازالت تتردد صداها في رأسي.

اليوم ذات المحامي الذي نصحني بعدم العودة، يقبع في سجون بعد أن وجهت له مجموعة من التهم، منها تشويه سمعة المملكة. 

 وليد رفض فرص الخروج من البلاد بالرغم من كم التحرشات التي تعرض لها من قبل البوليس والأمن السياسي. وليد كان يرفض الهروب للخارج، حتى لا يتهم بأنه مُستغرب وأن أفكاره ووعيه السياسي والحقوقي تأتي من الغرب أو من الخارج الذي لا يشبه الثقافة المحلية كما يروج لها النظام وأتباعه. 
وليد، كان يحاول أن يتحمل كل شيء في سبيل أن يؤكد أن مساعيه من أجل وطن أفضل للجميع هو نابع من داخله كمواطن. على الرغم من أن النظام الديكتاتوري، لا يقوى الإ بتكميم الأفواه وجز رؤوس المختلفون معه في حال تهدد عرشه.

بعد ثورات الربيع العربي لا شيء يخيف النظام السعودي بقدر ١٤٠ حرف قد ينشرها إصلاحيين سياسيين أو حتى حالمين لمستقبل أفضل في شبكة التوتير. هذه التغريدات كانت كافيه للنظام لتبرير إصدار قانون جديد ضد الإرهاب لتستخدمه السلطات لاحقا ضد كل من يطالب بنظام ملكي دستوري   أو أي نوع من الإصلاح. هذا القانون هو ذاته الذي استخدمته المحكمة الأمنية في الرياض لإصدار حكم خمسة عشر عاماً من السجن ضد المحامي وليد .

خلال الغزو العراقي على الكويت 1990، سكان المملكة لم يعرفوا شيء عن الغزو العراقي للكويت لمدة ثلاثة أيام. العائلة المالكة ووزارة الإعلام منعت كل وسائل الإعلام المحلية من البت بكلمة حول حرب الخليج. حرب في الجوار ولا أحد يعرف بذلك، وهذا إن دل على شيء فيدل على قدرة السلطات على التحكم بإنتشار المعلومة. 

 تحدثت إلى الصحفييون القدامى، الذين شهدوا تلك الأيام. تحدثُ عن أن الخوف الذي ملئ الأجواء وسط الإعلاميين العامليين في التلفاز الحكومي والصحف المحلية، لدرجة أن مذيع النشرة الجوية كان صوته يرتجف خوفاً كلما تحدث عن مناخ الكويت والعراق!

الدولة الريعية السعودية، سعت ولسنوات من بعد تأسيسها في بدايات القرن الماضي. أن تخلق رعيه  بدلا من مواطنين. لذلك خلقت نظام رفاه مجاني بدون مطالبة الشعب بدفع الضرائب وعوضا عن الإعتماد الضريبي، سعت لتغطية كل التكاليف من قبل الدخل العائد من النفط. عبر هذا النظام تستطيع ضمان رعيه دائماً ما تكون في حالة شكر وامتنان للعائلة المالكة عوضا عن مواطن يعتمد على حق الضرائب والتصويت للمطالبة بالحقوق..

 نسيت العائلة المالكة أن الألفية الجديدة ستوفر لشعبها وسائل جديدة لا يستطيعون منعها، وسائل يستطيع كل من يعيش في أرض المملكة أن يستخدمها للتعبير عن ذواتهم، مخاوفهم، مطالبهم وأحلامهم، وسائل مفتوحة لا يحتاج فيها المرء المرور بحراس بوابة، يتم تعينهم وخلعهم من قبل وزارة الإعلام السعودي وبالتالي يفروضون هم بدورهم رقابة على رأس كل كلمة.... نسيت العائلة المالكة أن الوعي العالمي،- بالرغم من رقابة المملكة المستبدة -تستطيع أن تخلق مواطنون واعيون كأمثال وليد أبو الخير، حيث لا يترددون بالمطالبة  بحقوق متساوية ، ممارسة حق التعبير والحفاظ على القيم العالمية لحقوق الإنسان.

النظام يعيش حالياً حالة ارتباك تاريخي، ولا يعرف كيف يتحكم بتوسع شبكات الإعلام الجديد، وإنتشار شعبيتها وسط فئة الشباب. النظام فقد السيطرة على هذه الوسائل وكل القصص التي تحملها معها، عابرة كل الحدود والقارات لِتُلهم من هم في الداخل السعودي. التفاعل من خلال الإعلام الجديد يلهم الشعب للسعي من أجل التغيير والسعي في سبيل عقد اجتماعي جديد بين الحاكم والمحكوم. 

النظام مازال يرى حيازة الكلمات الحرة كحيازة المخدرات وكحيازة فكر إرهابي. لذلك مازالوا يأ مرون بحجب المواقع واستصدار قوانين لتقيد الإنترنت وسجن الناشطون الحقوقيون، بدعوى حماية الأمن الفكري والثقافي للمواطن. وهم في الواقع يعنون حماية كراسي السلطة. 

هذه المقالة نشرت في موقع 
The Dissident Blog #14 for Swedish PEN in 2014


Sunday, July 9, 2017

140 tecken gör dig till terrorist


Saudiarabien är fortfarande ett av de länder dit den demokratirörelse som svept genom flera arabisktalande länder aldrig nått. Skälet är den styrande kungafamiljens monopol över alla medier – ett monopol som nu tycks vara på väg att få sprickor även inom landet. Rapporten nedan har skrivit av journalisten Hana Al-Khamri som vuxit upp i Saudiarabien

Jag minns när jag ringde till den saudiske advokaten och människorättsaktivisten Waleed Abu al-Khair för att fråga honom om han trodde att jag löpte någon fara för mitt liv om jag åkte tillbaka till Saudiarabien – detta efter att ha publicerat kritiska artiklar om bristen på mänskliga och politiska rättigheter i landet. ”De kan slå sina egna söner i järn, men vågar inte göra ett dyft mot västerlänningar”, det var vad Waleed sade i telefon till mig år 2010.

Samma advokat som den gången avrådde mig från att återvända sitter i dag själv inlåst i ett av den saudiska regimens mörka fängelser. En lång rad anklagelser riktas mot honom, bland annat för att ha ”smutskastat kungariket”. Nyheten att Waleed dömts till femton års fängelse fick mig att börja gråta, och i dag påminner jag mig vad han sade: ”Många debattörer och författare från Väst har skrivit och kritiserat Saudiarabien utan att råka illa ut för det; den här regimen har bara makt att klämma åt oss.” Hans enkla ord ekar fortfarande i mitt huvud.

Waleed vägrade att lämna landet när chansen gavs, trots alla de trakasserier som han utsattes för av polis och säkerhetstjänst under sin juridiska kamp för reformer – det under en diktaturregim som sätter munkavle på eller halshugger dem som tycker annorlunda. Waleed vägrade fly utomlands för att slippa anklagas för ”västernisering”. Han försökte stå ut med allt för att bevisa att hans strävan efter ett bättre land för alla utgick från honom själv som medborgare.

Efter den arabiska vårens omvälvningar finns det ingenting som skrämmer den saudiska regimen så mycket som 140 tecken på Twitter, som snabbt kan spridas av politiska reformister eller av dem som bara drömmer om en bättre framtid. Twittrandet var i regimens ögon motiv nog för att införa en lag mot terrorism. Det var just denna lag som säkerhetsdomstolen i Riyad använde sig av för att döma Waleed till fängelse.

Under den irakiska invasionen av Kuwait 1990 visste invånarna i Saudiarabien under tre dagars tid ingenting om vad som pågick. Kungafamiljen och Informationsdepartementet förbjöd all rapportering om Gulfkriget i inhemska medier. Att det pågick ett krig i närområdet som ingen kände till visar på den extrema graden av myndigheternas förmåga att kontrollera informationsspridningen 

Jag kommer ihåg vad de som var med på den tiden har berättat, särskilt då gamla journalister. Hur rädslan fyllde atmosfären på den statliga teven och på inhemska tidningar. Det gick så långt att presentatören av väderleksrapporten darrade på rösten av rädsla varje gång han nämnde väderutsikterna för Kuwait och i Irak.

Den saudiska rentierstaten strävade, efter sin tillkomst i början av förra seklet, efter att skapa ”undersåtar” i stället för ”medborgare”. Därför etablerade den ett gratis välfärdssystem utan att begära att folk skulle betala skatt – ett system helt oberoende av skatteintäkter. Alla kostnader skulle täckas av inkomster från oljan. Genom detta system har man säkerställt att undersåten alltid står i tacksamhetsskuld till kungafamiljen i stället för att vara en medborgare som med stöd i beskattningen och med hjälp av rösträtten kan ställa krav på rättigheter.

Men kungafamiljen tycks ha glömt att det nya milleniet förser folket med nya medier som den inte kan förbjuda, medier som var och en inom rikets gränser kan använda för att uttrycka sina tankar och farhågor, krav och drömmar – öppna medier man inte behöver passera någon av Informationsministeriets grindvakter för att använda, grindvakter som bara får behålla sitt jobb så länge de upprätthåller en strikt censur. Kungafamiljen har glömt bort att insikten om världen utanför, trots den auktoritära censurens grepp förmår skapa medvetna medborgare som Waleed, vilka inte tvekar att upprepa sina krav på jämlikhet inför lagen, maktväxling, yttrandefrihet och skydd för de medborgerliga rättigheterna.

Regimen upplever just nu en historisk vilsenhet. Den vet inte hur den ska handskas med de nya sociala mediernas utbredning och ökande popularitet bland ungdomen. Regimen har förlorat kontrollen över dessa medier. Och därmed över alla de berättelser som korsar gränser och kontinenter för att inspirera dem som befinner sig inne i Saudiarabien att tro på förändring och verka för ett nytt socialt kontrakt mellan styrande och styrda.

Regimen betraktar fortfarande innehav av fria ord som likvärdigt med narkotikainnehav eller med terrorverksamhet. Därför beordrar man fortfarande blockering av sajter och utfärdar lagar mot internet. Det påstådda syftet är att skydda medborgarnas intellektuella och kulturella trygghet – i själva verket är syftet att skydda dem som sitter vid makten.


...............................

This text was first published at The Dissident Blog #14 for Swedish PEN in 2014
Översättning från arabiska: Tetz Rooke