June 28, 2008





A few years ago, a person was almost beaten to death in San Diego in a parking lot. The perpetrators hollered racist remarks while they were pounding the merde out of him: "Go back to Iraq you bastard! We�ll come back and kill you if we don�t finish the job now."



They almost killed the man. However, he was of Portuguese descent, not Arabic.



The anti-Arab mood is so intense that U.S. bigots don�t care what nationality one is, only that he/she looks like an Arab. That�s good enough.



The irony is that most Americans have never met an Arab. They mindlessly make hateful statements without knowing the first thing about their "enemies." And this attitude comes from a population made of immigrants.



For the past 18 years, I have made a point of talking to people of Arab backgrounds. As you see from my writing, I bring up aspects that many journalists evade. By knowing what Arabs think about various subjects, one can learn much. It is shameful that no one in the U.S. administrations of Bush I, Clinton and Bush II have shown even the most remote knowledge of Arab culture and thought.



From January 17 to February 28, 1991, I spent two hours nightly in an Iraqi-American-owned store in El Cajon, California. This was the time of Desert Storm. I took notes and I listened. What I learned was far from what the media were telling us about Iraq and Iraqis.



To gain meaningful information, one must gain the trust of the Arab people with whom he/she fraternizes. In the case of the aforementioned store, the owner would give a signal to a person to whom I was speaking and the person then would open up.



Shortly after Desert Storm, the owner of the market sold his store, yet he gave me the names of a few people who would assist me with my quest for knowledge of Arabs and the Arab world.



By 1995, I numerous Arab friends: Iraqis, Lebanese, Palestinians and Syrians. Toward the end of the year, I noticed a sign at the corner gas station saying, "Under New Management." I went in and heard the new proprietor speaking English with an Arabic accent. "Where are you from?" I asked. "Jordan," was the reply. I now had another outlet for meeting people from the Middle East.



Shortly after meeting him, his mechanic approached me and said, "I�m Sabah. I hear you�re a writer." He then said he was working on his PhD and needed an editor for the project. I offered to help him.



Soon after, Sabah was hired by the largest Ford dealer in the area as a mechanic. He came by my house to drop off some of his work and I noticed his name tag said, "Sam." When I asked him if this was his nickname, he said he was told by the company that he must call himself Sam. I was irate and told him it was illegal for the company to do that. The next time I saw him, his name tag said "Sabah."



He did pay a price for sticking up to using his own name, however. The company watched him relentlessly and harassed him many times. His work was impeccable, so the firm could not fire him.



In time, he acquired his PhD and became a professor of business management at Brescia University in Kentucky. Then 9/11 occurred. His own personal secretary began to ignore him. One day, he burst into her office and told her, "I didn�t have anything to do with it, you know."



When he entered a small store with his daughter (who had blonde hair) and asked to use the rest room, on coming out he found that the owner had called the police and reported that "an Arab" had kidnapped the girl. Since then, he has had many stories to tell.



Another meeting place is a market/restaurant owned by my friend Mahmoud, a Palestinian. He is very politically aware and I have gained much knowledge from him, as well as he has from me. For years, he had a small market, but six years ago, he opened his current venture, a much larger enterprise with a restaurant attached.



In that time, the F.B.I. has visited him several times. They have taken his books away twice to peruse. One time, an agent asked him, "Have you ever thought of blowing up a building?" How many non-Arab U.S. citizens are badgered like this almost every day?



Mahmoud tells me that customers, on a regular basis, harass him about being an Arab. They come into his store and tell how great it is that "we�re kicking the Arabs� asses in Iraq." He asks why they do this when they know of his background. I tell him that it�s xenophobia and ethnocentrism run awry.



One day, a new cashier, who was very nervous because it was her first day on the job, was being chastised by a customer whose car heralded a pro-Israel bumper sticker. He said to the cashier, "You�re a refugee, right? You people are all refugees." The girl, about age 19 or 20, responded, "I don�t know what you�re talking about. I was born in La Mesa." The customer then nastily repeated his refugee statement and laughed.



Normally, I am quiet, but some times one must step up to the plate and be heard. I said, "You are an asshole and should be ashamed of yourself. An adult trying to humiliate a young person like that." Because I was considerably larger than he and in much better shape, he did not respond and quickly left the store. The girl thanked me. Had I not intervened, he would have probably continued his line of talk for a few more minutes. It made him feel superior by demeaning a young girl.



I will end with an anecdote about Mahmoud. Even though we are in troubled times, we can make some humor of events.



Mahmoud�s entire family was given a few hours to leave their house in 1948 after the state of Israel came into being. They lost all their land that had been in the family for generations. Today, his family lives in Jordan after spending years in Kuwait. They are stateless. Because of this background, Mahmoud is not exactly a fan of the state of Israel.



A few years ago, a professional wrestler, Bryan Walsh, lived with me for a few months. He had never met Mahmoud. One day, I said, "Let�s go down to the market at the corner." I then concocted a scheme to confuse Mahmoud.



I entered the store and said "Hi" to Mahmoud and then went into a corner and pretended that I was looking at the large selection of Arabic breads offered. A minute later, Walsh entered the store. Mahmoud said, "Hi. May I help you?" Walsh asked, "Do you serve Jews?" Mahmoud immediately replied, "Of course."



"I�ll take two," said Walsh.



I was in the corner and had my mouth covered so I wouldn't laugh. Mahmoud was stunned. He looked toward me and then saw Walsh laughing. After he put two and two together, he smiled and flipped me off.

