Whose
Voice? Nasser, the Arabs, and 'Sawt al-Arab' Radio
By
Laura M. James
On July 4, 1953, Cairo Radio first broadcast a half-hour radio
programme called The Voice of the Arabs. It included
a short statement by the ostensible leader of Egypt’s recent
July Revolution, General Mohammed Naguib, garnished with a great
deal of anti-colonialist rhetoric.(1) The new programme was perfectly
timed to take advantage of a critical moment in the history of
transnational broadcasting. Newly inexpensive transistor radios
were being acquired by the illiterate poor in cities and villages
across the Arabic speaking countries. The Voice of the Arabs
was instantly popular, and expanded rapidly. It used highly emotive
rhetoric, combined with music from such iconic singers as Umm
Kalthoum, to draw in its listeners. “People used to have
their ears glued to the radio,” remembered the Nasserist
Abdullah Sennawi, “particularly when Arab nationalist songs
were broadcast calling Arabs to raise their heads and defend their
dignity and land from occupation.”(2)
In very short order,
The Voice of the Arabs became a major radio station
in its own right, broadcasting the revolutionary opinions of
the Cairo regime for 18 hours each day across the Arab world.
Arabic, in the words of Douglas Boyd, came to stand “second
only to English as an international broadcasting language.”(3)
The radio station reached across national borders, helping to
break down the distinction between domestic and regional politics
in many of the states that had been created from the shards
of the Ottoman Empire in the wake of the First World War.(4)
Above all, it deliberately created a sense of national identity
that had previously existed in, at most, a latent form. It created
that identity, moreover, in a particular image, dissociating
Arabism from Islam even as it bound the new ideology together
with strands of socialism and anti-colonialism.
This particular slice of history is worth reviewing in an age
when the idea of the Arab countries as a unified entity—in
spiritual, if not in political terms—appears to be undergoing
a revival. There is a clear analogy between the far-flung effects
of The Voice of the Arabs and the way in which the
Arab world is once more being brought together by new transnational
media based on new technology, ranging from satellite television
to the internet. Phrases such as ‘the Arab street’
are again becoming commonplace, as changing structures of communication
allow a shared language and a reawakened sense of common identity
to translate into a collective stance on the issues of the day.
Marwan Kraidy has argued that stakes have been raised for Arab
regimes in the wake of September 11 to the extent that the history
of the Nasser era, when critical political issues were played
out on the level of transnational media, “provides the
willing contemporary observer with important insights on the
current situation”.(5)
It is true that the
comparison is far from perfect. Islamism, in all its variety
of forms, represents an important driving force behind the current
revival of Arabism. Nasserist Arab nationalism, by contrast,
was generally secular.(6) More importantly, satellite television
channels such as Al Jazeera, although they have sometimes
been accused of a biased political agenda, pride themselves
on their precision concerning matters of fact and their criticism
of corrupt Arab rulers.(7) The Voice of the Arabs,
on the other hand, was an overt vehicle for Egyptian state influence
and often ridiculously inaccurate. There was an ongoing tension
between its avowed raison d’être as the
forger of Arab unity and the unedifying squabbles it ignited
within the Middle East as a result of its habit of addressing
Arab populations over the heads of their established rulers.
It was a weapon wielded by the Nasser regime, rather than a
genuinely collective voice. In the end, however, the weapon
was as fatal to its makers as to their enemies.
To sustain this argument,
it is necessary to delve more deeply into the original plans
and purposes of The Voice of the Arabs. It was, according
to Mohammed Fayek, who later became Minister of National Guidance,
“a nationalist project aimed at helping Arabs turn the
page of colonial occupation and division of their nation into
small entities and build a better common future.”(8) Ahmed
al-Said, the radio station’s best–known presenter
and general manager, remembers that their mandate of promoting
Arab unity was laid out quite clearly in the original plans
and studies made in early 1953. Addressing the Arab people in
their own language for the first time, the station would explain
to them the ideals of the July Revolution, making them aware
of the many plots they faced. The main aims of The Voice
of the Arabs, therefore, were to liberate the Arab people;
to unite the Arab countries; to liberate Arab resources from
imperialism’s grasp; and to encourage the use of those
resources for the development of Arab civilisation, science
and culture.(9) It was an agenda perfectly aligned with the
modernist, post-colonialist, nationalist ideologies flourishing
throughout the Third World in the 1950s. But it called on the
people of a state that did not exist–yet.
Throughout his life,
the revolutionary Egyptian leader, Gamal Abdel Nasser, opposed
a consistent triumvirate of enemies: namely, "imperialism,"
"Zionism," and Arab "reaction." When he
approved the plans for The Voice of the Arabs in 1953,
however, he still applied the third term principally to hostile
groups within Egypt. The programme concentrated initially on
the fight against imperialism in the Arab world—most particularly,
of course, supporting the struggle of the fida‘iyun against
British troops in the Canal Zone and opposing British machinations
in the Sudan, both of which were viewed as direct encroachments
upon Egyptian sovereignty. The Voice of the Arabs first
raised its voice against developments in the wider region on
August 20, 1953, just a month and a half after its initial broadcast,
protesting the French authorities’ deportation of the
Moroccan sultan. On that very day, Nasser himself announced
his manifesto in Cairo’s central Midan al-Tahrir:
We
must follow the policy of a total war—the people’s
war. The enemy is now fighting us with money, hostile propaganda
and the agitation of minds. This is the cold war between us
and imperialism.(10)
Anti-imperialism
was to remain a major theme—perhaps the major theme—of
the radio station over the years that followed. In the early
to mid-1960s, it railed particularly against the ongoing British
presence in the Gulf. No scandal was too small. When the British
Governor of Aden passed through Cairo Airport in November 1961
without making a statement, he was accused of being unable to
face press questions on the iniquities of British imperialism.
“What would he tell these journalists about the federal
union which Britain wants to establish there against the Arab
people’s will?” The Voice of the Arabs
demanded. “What would he tell them about the British plots
in Aden and the Protectorates?”(11) Minor revolutionaries
from Aden were feted in Cairo; trivial victories such as the
removal of the pro-British Principal of Aden Girls’ College
provoked sustained gloating across the airwaves.(12) In September
1962, when the British finally forced through an agreement for
Aden’s accession to their new creation, the South Arabian
Federation, furious protests on The Voice of the Arabs’
“Arab Gulf and South” programme were blamed in London
for provoking serious rioting in Aden. When the presenter, Ahmed
al-Said, visited the UK, British newspapers dubbed him "Mr
Hate." (13)
By that point, a number of Arab leaders might have agreed with
the sentiment. Ahmed al-Said acknowledges that another part
of The Voice of the Arabs’ mandate was to inform
Arabs of their own governments’ sins. This function first
became apparent with a concerted attack on the effective ruler
of Iraq, Nuri al-Said, in 1954-55, over his support for the
pro-British Baghdad Pact. Nuri, with the subtlety for which
he was known, initially responded only indirectly, intimating
to the Egyptian Minister of Guidance, Salah Salem, that he found
the whole programme far too lowbrow. Salem, known as “the
Dancing Major” and the butt of many a joke, hurried home
to demand that the great Egyptian author Taha Hussein be put
on the air immediately. It had to be gently explained to him
that Nuri was in fact resentful of the massive popularity of
The Voice of the Arabs, seeing it as a threat to his
position.(14) He was quite right. In late 1958, an Arab nationalist
coup d’état in Baghdad would force Nuri
to flee disguised as a woman. He was discovered and killed,
his body torn apart by the mob.(15)
Similarly, the Imam
of Yemen was overthrown in late September 1962 following a sustained
campaign on The Voice of the Arabs, most notably a
series called “The Secrets of the Yemen” that had
begun two months previously, presented by “the Yemeni
revolutionary, Dr Abdel Rahman al-Baydani.” Baydani accused
the Imam Ahmed of drug addiction, rapaciousness and allowing
his harem to interfere in politics.(16) The Imam’s son,
Crown Prince Badr, was condemned as having “no principles,”
and when he succeeded his father on September 19, the tone remained
unyielding:
Free
sons, the sins of the past are still those of the present. Even
the people who served the departed Imam are the same that serve
the new Imam … The people will break all bonds and shackles
and will impose themselves for the building of the future of
Yemen.(17)
Baydani even claims
that his final radio announcement, on September 26, 1962, contained
the secret code words—referring to a well-known Yemeni
story—that signalled the start of the revolution: “Friday
is Friday, the sermon is the sermon.”(18)
Moreover, in the
wake of the Yemeni revolution, King Saud and Crown Prince Faisal
of Saudi Arabia, who had already suffered from round condemnation
of their personal lives and policies on The Voice of the Arabs
“Enemies of God” programme throughout much of 1962,
became the targets of even more insurrectionist propaganda.
The “Committee of Free Princes,” led by the exiled
Prince Talal, was permitted to call for reform on Voice of the
Arabs; and King Saud was explicitly told that he was the next
target after the Imam.(19) Later, when Saud himself had been
deposed by his brother, his own hostile broadcasts from Cairo
were carried on the same radio station. Indeed, Boyd argues
that Saudi broadcasting developed largely in order to balance
such attacks.(20)
The Voice of
the Arabs, in other words, was in most respects the voice
of the Nasser regime. “We cannot separate the policies
of Nasser from the broadcasting,” says Ahmed al-Said.
From the outset, it had strong links with Egyptian Intelligence,
which had, indeed, come up with the concept of such a radio
station in the first place. Both institutions, in a sense, performed
the same job: They prepared the citizens of the Arab countries
for revolution. As a result, they routinely shared information.
Representatives of The Voice of the Arabs used to contact
members of pro-Egyptian organisations in other Arab countries,
whereupon mukhabarat officers, sometimes disguised
as students doing doctoral research, would call upon the trustworthy
ones for situational reports. The mukhabarat, in their
turn would provide the presenters with feedback on the Arab
people’s response to their broadcasts, advising them to
raise or lower the tempo, as necessary.(21)
The Voice of
the Arabs had been very carefully designed to become a
regional phenomenon. Following the establishment of the new
Egyptian intelligence service in March 1953, the Interior Minister,
Zakaria Mohieddin, and intelligence officer Fathi al-Dib had
formulated an Arab nationalist action plan, which included the
development of a radio show as well as funding for Arab nationalist
writers and students to study in Egypt. Nasser heartily approved
the project, and hurried it along. “Why are you only just
starting?” he asked, when Ahmed al-Said recorded an interview
with him at the end of June. Nasser allowed them just a week
to complete their audience assessment studies and broadcast
the first programme.(22) Like Cairo Radio, The Voice of
the Arabs was a strictly controlled government mouthpiece.(23)
It became a key foreign policy tool, enabling Nasser to tailor
his words precisely to a Pan-Arab audience. In March 1956, for
example, the Egyptian leader made a speech to the British Observer
newspaper which was broadcast on both Cairo Radio and The
Voice of the Arabs. The latter, however, was careful to
omit such conciliatory phrases as “there are many interests
which the British and the Arabs have in common.”(24)
It was this very
tailoring of sentiments for a radical audience, however, that
ultimately made the radio station a constraint on the Nasser
regime. Ahmed al-Said goes so far as to argue that this was
intentional. “If Nasser’s government did something
wrong, we had to mention it. And this happened. And he signed
it.” Thus The Voice of the Arabs was, according
to Said, “the voice of Nasser and the voice of the Arab
people at the same time.” On the other hand, Said also
states that the people and Nasser only ever disagreed over one
issue—the timing of the liberation of Palestine. The Arab
people pressed Nasser toward liberation, but he felt impelled
to delay due to international circumstances, specifically the
consistent Western support for Israel that apparently convinced
him that he must leave the problem to another generation.(25)
There is absolutely
no supporting evidence for the contention that Nasser intended
to allow The Voice of the Arabs to criticise his own
regime. However, it is true that Cairo’s deliberate escalation
of pro-Palestinian, anti-Zionist rhetoric in order to mobilise
the Arab masses eventually turned into a trap from which Egypt
could not escape. As early as August 31,1955, Ahmed al-Said
broadcast a poem that began: “O Israel! Weep as much as
you like, wail over your ill fortune, morning and night, and
await your end at any time now.” Then came the much-repeated,
ominous chorus: “The Arabs of Egypt have found their way
to Tel Aviv.”(26) By the time of the pre-war crisis of
May 1967, such ideas had become so commonplace that they were
believed even by many high-level Egyptian insiders.(27) The
Voice of the Arabs, meanwhile, boundless in its confidence,
had moved on to bigger game. “We challenge you, Israel,”
it announced, before changing its mind. “No, in fact,
we do not address the challenge to you, Israel, because you
are unworthy of our challenge. But we challenge you, America.”(28)
The Voice of
the Arabs radio station began preparing for a war on May
20,1967, when the regime ordered staff to “heat it up.”
Five days later, Nasser’s military chief, Marshal Abdel
Hakim Amer, allegedly told Ahmed al-Said that an Egyptian first
strike was imminent, so they needed to be prepared to relocate
if their transmitters were targeted. The radio station’s
military liaison officer informed Said two hours before the
planned strike on May 27 that it had been called off, on Soviet
orders. Once the war actually began, following the Israeli attack
at dawn on June 5, the military continued to keep The Voice
of the Arabs updated on the number of Israeli planes shot
down, and other useful—if fictitious—morsels of
information.(29) While the Egyptian air force lay in ruins on
its runways, and Arab armies retreated on every front, The
Voice of the Arabs clung to the fantasy world it had created
so painstakingly over fourteen years. It continued to boast
of great victories even after Western media had made the scale
of the disaster—Israel rapidly took the Sinai Peninsula,
Gaza, East Jerusalem, the West Bank and the Golan Heights—quite
apparent. Its credibility would never recover.(30)
Ahmed al-Said emphasises
that his exaggeration of the number of planes shot down was
based on information provided by policy-makers whose numbers
added up wrong. It was, he says, his duty to follow orders in
time of war, and to assist the army by issuing propaganda to
deceive the enemy. Not to do so would have been traitorous,
an offence against Egyptian criminal law, punishable by death.(31)
But by so doing, he put himself out of a job. The “setback”
of 1967 fatally injured the legitimacy of secular Arabism, facilitating
the rise of the Islamist alternative in the 1970s. It also damaged
the Nasser regime, although the President himself managed to
remain in power by a piece of very fancy footwork. He resigned
before his loyal people fully realised the scale of the defeat,
only to be called back by popular demonstrations. His radio
station, however, had been convicted of deceit out of its own
mouth, and could only be disavowed quietly. Once its emotive
exhortations and pronouncements had finally been shown to be
empty, Sawt al-Arab could no longer be the Voice of
the Arab people, nor even the Voice of Nasser. It was no more
than the mellifluous, discredited voice of Ahmed al-Said.
Laura
James monitors Egypt, Sudan, Kuwait and Oman for the
Economist Intelligence Unit, based in London. She completed
her doctorate at the University of Oxford, where she was a college
Lecturer at St. Edward's Hall teaching. Middle East Politics
and International Relations to undergraduates. She has also
worked as a consultant for a UN agency in Rome. Her book, Nasser
at War: Arab Images of the Enemy, will be published by Palgrave
Macmillan in October 2006.
NOTES
1. BBC Summary of World Broadcasts [BBC-SWB]:378, 10/7/53.
2. Quoted in Labidi, K. “The Voice of the Arabs
is Speechless at 50”, The Daily Star, 7/10/03.
3. Boyd, D.A. Broadcasting in the Arab World: A Survey of the
Electronic Media in the Middle East (Ames: Iowa State University
Press, 1999). See also Amin, H.Y. “Social Engineering:
Transnational Broadcasting and Its Impact on Peace in the Middle
East”, Global Media Journal 3.4 (2004).
4. For details, see Barnett, M. N. Dialogues in Arab Politics
(New York: Columbia University Press, 1998); Kerr, M. H. The
Arab Cold War (Oxford University Press, 1971).
5. Kraidy, M.M. “Arab Satellite Television Between Regionalization
and Globalization”, Global Media Journal 1.1 (2002).
6. Indeed, Islamism is often said to have been divorced from
Arabism in Nasser’s prison camps. See Sivan, E. Radical
Islam (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1985); Kepel, G. Muslim
Extremism in Egypt (Berkeley: University of California Press,
2003).
7. See Miles, H. Al Jazeera (London: Abacus, 2005).
8. Quoted in Labidi, “The Voice of the Arabs is Speechless”.
9. Author interview with Ahmed al-Said: Cairo, 20/12/04, Arabic.
10. BBC-SWB:391, 25/8/53.
11. BBC-SWB:ME794, 14/11/61.
12. BBC-SWB:ME1024, 18/8/62; BBC-SWB:ME987, 5/7/62.
13. Said interview.
14. Ibid.
15. See Stephens, R. Nasser: A Political Biography (London:
Penguin, 1971).
16. BBC-SWB:ME1011, 2/8/62.
17. BBC-SWB:ME1014, 7/8/62; BBC-SWB:ME1056, 25/9/62.
18. Author interview with Abdel Rahman al-Baydani: Cairo, 8/4/04,
English. Partially confirmed in Said interview.
19. 20/8/62, BBC-SWB:ME1027; Noman, A. and Almadhagi, K. Yemen
and the United States: A Study of a Small Power and Super-State
Relationship 1962-1994 (London: Tauris Academic Studies, 1996).
20. Boyd, Broadcasting in the Arab World.
21. Said interview
22. Ibid.
23. See Ayubi, S. Nasser and Sadat: Decision-making and Foreign
Policy (Washington, DC: University Press of America, 1994);
Kraidy, “Arab Satellite Television.”
24. BBC-SWB:659, 30/3/56.
25. Said interview. Partially confirmed in Mohsen Abdel Khalek
interview, Brian Lapping Associates, Interview Transcripts,
The Fifty Years War: Israel and the Arabs [FYW]: Private Papers
Collection, Middle East Centre, St Antony’s College, Oxford.
26. BBC-SWB:601, 6/9/55.
27. Author interview with Abdel Magid Farid: London, 14/6/04,
English; Sadat, A. In Search of Identity (London: Collins, 1978);
Riad, M. The Struggle for Peace in the Middle East (London:
Quartet Books, 1981); Salah Bassiouny interview, FYW.
28. BBC-SWB:ME2473, 22/5/67.
29. Said interview; Al-Bayan (UAE), 2/8/03.
30. See Amin, “Social Engineering” Boyd, Broadcasting
in the Arab World; Stephens, Nasser; Labidi, “The
Voice of the Arabs is Speechless.”
31. Said interview.
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