Arab cops hunt jihadi terrorists. A con artist becomes president of Egypt. A
mosque preacher falls in love with a secular violinist at the opera house. These
are just a few of the plots for dozens of new TV shows playing to 90 million
households in the Arab world this month. Ramadan is a time of fasting and
contemplation—but in the Middle East, it's also the most high-stakes period for
hundreds of satellite channels in 21 Arab countries.
Most serials made their debut with the new moon on July 8 and air nightly after daylong fasting is broken at sunset. This year's story lines reflect the political upheavals rocking the Arab world and suggest that the region—or at least those producing the shows—are tilting against Islamism.
A traditional mainstay of Ramadan TV has been programming depicting Jews as hook-nosed spillers of blood who want to enslave the world, starting with Muslims. Perhaps most memorably, the 2001 Ramadan show "Faris Bila Jawad" (Horseman Without a Horse) told the story of Israel's founding as a nation on the premise that the "Protocols of the Elders of Zion" were real and not, as they were, a vicious anti-Semitic forgery by the Russian secret police.
This year, one Qatari-backed historical drama does fit that bigoted bill: "Khaybar"—airing on networks in Algeria, Egypt, Iraq and elsewhere—shows why a Jewish tribe in seventh-century Arabia deserved to be slaughtered by Muslims and recreates the carnage. Egyptian screenwriter Yusri al-Jundi made his feelings toward Jews clear when he told an Al Jazeera television interviewer: "The series shows how the Jews' . . . nature endures. Despite the fact that hundreds of years have passed, they still spread corruption wherever they live."
But early ratings show "Khaybar" to be a commercial flop, as well as an outlier. This year's most popular shows don't focus on an external enemy but on current intra-Arab issues.
The nightly comedy sitcom, "Abu Al Malayin" (Father of Millions), airing on the Saudi-backed network MBC1, is about two rich brothers' zany adventures in capitalism. In one episode, the siblings predict that the Arab revolutions will boost demand for "tools of repression," and start importing tear gas and police dogs. The brothers want to earn a bad reputation among Western human-rights groups, so that Arab states will be more likely to do business with them. When I asked screenwriter Khalaf al-Harbi why he thinks the show is a hit, he replied: "All year long Arabs have been crying—about Syria, about Iraq. They need to laugh more than ever."
The most serious rival for "Abu Al Malayin" is an Egyptian production, "Al-Arraf" (The Fortuneteller). Beloved Egyptian comic actor Adel Imam plays a con artist who makes millions, lands in prison, escapes amid the chaos of the 2011 revolution, and goes on to win political power in the new Egypt. Numerous TV critics in Egypt and beyond have interpreted the story as a dig at recently ousted President Mohammed Morsi, who was jailed for a few days along with other Muslim Brotherhood activists during the January 2011 revolution. The critics interpret the con as a metaphor for Islamists' use of religion to gain power. Mr. Imam, who faced prosecution on charges of "offending Islam" last year, recently talked with an Egyptian newspaper about Mr. Morsi's ouster: "I can't describe how happy I am at the armed forces' announcement."
His political views echo broader anger at the Muslim Brotherhood among Egypt's leading actors, writers and directors—and the new crop of dramas puts their feelings on display. "Al-Da'iya" (The Preacher) features a cleric in love with a violinist. As their relationship deepens, he confronts extremism and hypocrisy among his colleagues. "Ism Mu'aqqat" (Temporary Name) casts Brotherhood candidates in Egypt's recent elections as cheats. Meanwhile, secularist ideologue Ilham Shaheen scripted the slapstick comedy "Nazariyat al-Gawafa" (The Guava Theory), which mercilessly spoofs the Brotherhood.
Part of the reason such programming is dominating the airwaves is that the Syrian TV industry, which has long been the source of the most anti-Semitic and politically toxic shows, has been virtually put out of commission by the civil war. Battle scenes in dramas like "Khaybar" are costly, and these days are difficult to shoot outdoors in Syria, where the other kind of shooting is rampant.
The Brotherhood, for its part, hasn't nurtured the creative talent necessary to staff its own ideological productions. One halting attempt was ridiculed by critics earlier this year for its conspicuous lack of female characters. Meanwhile, Shiite Hezbollah's annual TV epic spotlights a non-Jewish adversary this year—the Sunni Ottoman Empire—in an apparent nod to the region's sectarian strife. It hasn't attracted a substantial audience.
Shifting political circumstances have conspired to alter the menu of shows this season. But viewers' choices are a sign that Arabs may be eschewing the fixation on an external enemy in favor of more introspective, even self-critical fare—as well as plain old escapism.
Mr. Braude, author of "The Honored Dead" (Spiegel & Grau, 2011), broadcasts a weekly commentary in Arabic on Morocco's MED Radio network. He is writing a book about Arabic media.
Most serials made their debut with the new moon on July 8 and air nightly after daylong fasting is broken at sunset. This year's story lines reflect the political upheavals rocking the Arab world and suggest that the region—or at least those producing the shows—are tilting against Islamism.
A traditional mainstay of Ramadan TV has been programming depicting Jews as hook-nosed spillers of blood who want to enslave the world, starting with Muslims. Perhaps most memorably, the 2001 Ramadan show "Faris Bila Jawad" (Horseman Without a Horse) told the story of Israel's founding as a nation on the premise that the "Protocols of the Elders of Zion" were real and not, as they were, a vicious anti-Semitic forgery by the Russian secret police.
This year, one Qatari-backed historical drama does fit that bigoted bill: "Khaybar"—airing on networks in Algeria, Egypt, Iraq and elsewhere—shows why a Jewish tribe in seventh-century Arabia deserved to be slaughtered by Muslims and recreates the carnage. Egyptian screenwriter Yusri al-Jundi made his feelings toward Jews clear when he told an Al Jazeera television interviewer: "The series shows how the Jews' . . . nature endures. Despite the fact that hundreds of years have passed, they still spread corruption wherever they live."
But early ratings show "Khaybar" to be a commercial flop, as well as an outlier. This year's most popular shows don't focus on an external enemy but on current intra-Arab issues.
The nightly comedy sitcom, "Abu Al Malayin" (Father of Millions), airing on the Saudi-backed network MBC1, is about two rich brothers' zany adventures in capitalism. In one episode, the siblings predict that the Arab revolutions will boost demand for "tools of repression," and start importing tear gas and police dogs. The brothers want to earn a bad reputation among Western human-rights groups, so that Arab states will be more likely to do business with them. When I asked screenwriter Khalaf al-Harbi why he thinks the show is a hit, he replied: "All year long Arabs have been crying—about Syria, about Iraq. They need to laugh more than ever."
The most serious rival for "Abu Al Malayin" is an Egyptian production, "Al-Arraf" (The Fortuneteller). Beloved Egyptian comic actor Adel Imam plays a con artist who makes millions, lands in prison, escapes amid the chaos of the 2011 revolution, and goes on to win political power in the new Egypt. Numerous TV critics in Egypt and beyond have interpreted the story as a dig at recently ousted President Mohammed Morsi, who was jailed for a few days along with other Muslim Brotherhood activists during the January 2011 revolution. The critics interpret the con as a metaphor for Islamists' use of religion to gain power. Mr. Imam, who faced prosecution on charges of "offending Islam" last year, recently talked with an Egyptian newspaper about Mr. Morsi's ouster: "I can't describe how happy I am at the armed forces' announcement."
His political views echo broader anger at the Muslim Brotherhood among Egypt's leading actors, writers and directors—and the new crop of dramas puts their feelings on display. "Al-Da'iya" (The Preacher) features a cleric in love with a violinist. As their relationship deepens, he confronts extremism and hypocrisy among his colleagues. "Ism Mu'aqqat" (Temporary Name) casts Brotherhood candidates in Egypt's recent elections as cheats. Meanwhile, secularist ideologue Ilham Shaheen scripted the slapstick comedy "Nazariyat al-Gawafa" (The Guava Theory), which mercilessly spoofs the Brotherhood.
Part of the reason such programming is dominating the airwaves is that the Syrian TV industry, which has long been the source of the most anti-Semitic and politically toxic shows, has been virtually put out of commission by the civil war. Battle scenes in dramas like "Khaybar" are costly, and these days are difficult to shoot outdoors in Syria, where the other kind of shooting is rampant.
The Brotherhood, for its part, hasn't nurtured the creative talent necessary to staff its own ideological productions. One halting attempt was ridiculed by critics earlier this year for its conspicuous lack of female characters. Meanwhile, Shiite Hezbollah's annual TV epic spotlights a non-Jewish adversary this year—the Sunni Ottoman Empire—in an apparent nod to the region's sectarian strife. It hasn't attracted a substantial audience.
Shifting political circumstances have conspired to alter the menu of shows this season. But viewers' choices are a sign that Arabs may be eschewing the fixation on an external enemy in favor of more introspective, even self-critical fare—as well as plain old escapism.
Mr. Braude, author of "The Honored Dead" (Spiegel & Grau, 2011), broadcasts a weekly commentary in Arabic on Morocco's MED Radio network. He is writing a book about Arabic media.
A version of this article appeared July 19, 2013, on
page A9 in the U.S. edition of The Wall Street Journal, with the headline: For
Insight Into Mideast, Tune Into Ramadan TV.
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