AS A CHILD IN THE 1960S, I THOUGHT MY RELATIVES were famous. It seemed like they were in many Hollywood movies, often playing similar roles. OK. They weren't the headliners, but they did appear alongside stars like Paul Newman (""Exodus''), Sophia Loren (""Judith'') and Kirk Douglas (""Cast a Giant Shadow''). My ""relatives'' always played the ""terrorists.''
As I grew older, though, I realized that those actors were not my relatives, at all. They just looked like them. They have that ""terrorist'' look, and so do I. I can safely assure you, though, I don't have the mannerisms. I'm tired of seeing my likeness wielding an AK-47, murdering innocent women and children, getting stomped by Arnold Schwarzenegger (""True Lies''), or Harrison Ford (""Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom''), or Kurt Russell (""Executive Decision''), and now Bruce Willis (""The Siege'').
I'm Arab-American. And for some reason, Hollywood seems to think it's OK to portray all Arabs--and all Muslims, for that matter--as the bad guys. I don't mean just bad. I mean really bad. It makes me so angry I want to get in my half-track with my 50-caliber howitzer that's parked in my two-Hummer garage, drive to the center of town and start shooting! I mean, isn't that what you've come to expect Arabs to do?
After I was honorably discharged from the U.S. Air Force in 1975, the FBI opened a file on me. It began with the ominous suggestion that I might be involved in ""suspected'' terrorist organizations, but the investigation concluded two years and 23 pages later that I was concerned only about improving the condition of my community. The investigation seemed based on the assumption that because I was an Arab, I must also be a potential terrorist. Most of the juicy text was blocked out with heavy, black Magic Markered lines, so it's hard to know for sure.
Hollywood movies are founded on the same assumption, that the Arab is the terrorist. I once thought movies were just entertainment, but they're much more. It's at the movies that the public learns about people like me. And it's also where I compare myself to the characters on the screen and wonder if there really is something wrong with me. How did my look suddenly become something so sinister? My eyes become even darker and more deep set? My accent heavier? I begin to question myself. Why is this person who looks like me so angry he wants to murder and harm innocent people? What is it that makes him wreak havoc and wanton suffering upon an innocent world?
Occasionally, there is an upside to being pegged as a terrorist. Once at Miami International Airport, a gaggle of people all wearing the same light gray jackets were following me around the terminal. Finally, introducing themselves as airport security, they directed me to a room where they rifled through my bags and grilled me about my travel history. They held up the embarrassing evidence of my terrorism. Wood carved heads. Goofy-looking hats. And dirty clothes.
When they finally realized I was just a tourist-trap junkie, they excused themselves. Usually, it takes about 15 minutes before I am released from airport detention and I'm on my way. Meanwhile, the nonterrorist-looking commuters are left waiting in the long immigration lines, impatiently nudging luggage across the tile floor, complaining about the heat and delays. But the security officers always have a reason to stop me. At Miami, they said I looked like the suspect they were pursuing. And, they just happened to have a Polaroid picture of the ""suspect.'' He wore a double-breasted, polyester leisure suit, with a wide-brimmed Panama hat. And he had olive skin, dark eyes and those skinny little fingers that fit neatly around the trigger of a gun, like mine do. Naturally, I was very impressed. It must be difficult to get a terrorist to stop long enough to pose for a Polaroid picture.
Look, I'm realistic. I don't think we can erase all of Hollywood's stereotypes. But the movies seem fixated on the exaggerated bad side of Arabs. To Hollywood, the Arab is the wife-abuser who wants to buy Steve Martin's home in ""Father of the Bride II.'' Or the guy hanging from the missile in ""True Lies'' when Schwarzenegger pushes the launch button and says in his Austrian accent, ""Yaw're fi-yard!'' We Arabs murder innocent airline passengers in ""Executive Decision'' simply because it makes us feel good.
Even a company like Disney takes a shot at us, with these lyrics from the movie ""Aladdin'': ""Oh I come from a land, from a faraway place, where the caravan camels roam; Where they cut off your ear if they don't like your face; It's barbaric, but hey, it's home.'' (Disney responded to Arab-Americans' complaints by changing the last line for the video release.)
Must every Arab portrayed in the movies be the villain? Why can't we be the hero just once? There are plenty of overlooked role models to choose from. The first heart-transplant surgeon is an Arab-American, Michael DeBakey. Candy Lightner, who founded Mothers Against Drunk Drivers, is Arab, too. There were at least 74 Arab passengers aboard the Titanic when it sank. Half of them drowned. Director James Cameron had a good opportunity to highlight the human side of the Arab community. Instead, he chose to highlight a make-believe Irish wedding aboard the ship, rather than include one of the three Arab weddings that actually took place.
Arabs are everyday people. Doctors. Teachers. Football stars and team owners. Grocery-store clerks. Engineers. Elected officials. We're the mail carriers who deliver your mail. The nurses and emergency medical technicians who hold your hand through tragedy. The clerks who help you at the bank.
I'm not asking Hollywood to hate someone else. That would be wrong. But, I'm asking Hollywood to be fair. Don't just show the bad. Show our good side, too. But, if that can't be done, I do have one last question: are you still mad about the Crusades?
HANANIA <em>is a writer from Chicago.