Digital & Print Membership
Yearly + Receive 8 free printed back issues
$420 Annually
Monthly + Receive 3 free printed back issues
$40 Monthly
The West’s Manufactured Fear
How Media Made “The Middle-East” the Enemy
Middle Eastern people have long been used as archetypes of hatred from the CIA-scripted paranoia of Homeland to the endless stream of nameless brown “terrorists” in shows like 24, Western media has choreographed a decades-long spectacle of othering. Homeland alone—winner of Emmys and Golden Globes—built its success on the fantasy that every Arab is a potential threat, every Middle Eastern city a breeding ground for “chaos”. It turned suspicion into plot structure and made Arab, and specifically Arab Muslim identity synonymous with violence.
Artists write ‘Homeland is racist’ graffiti on set
Hollywood didn’t invent racism, but it gave it high production value. Generations of Western audiences were conditioned to associate brown skin, spoken-Arabic, or a headscarf—often a keffiyeh-like item—with danger. Whether it was the desert villains in Iron Man, the dehumanized “others” in American Sniper, or the background bodies in every post-9/11 thriller, the message has been consistent: fear the “Middle-Easterner”.

Edward Said, in Orientalism, taught us this narrative isn’t accidental; it’s a strategy. It creates the “Other” to justify war, surveillance, and empire. Every film, ad, or news clip showing an “Arab-looking man” as a gunman or scowling fanatic is another brick in the wall of our collective fear.
Frantz Fanon described the violence of representation as psychic and systemic: a colonizer’s gaze that dehumanizes and flattens. When you tell the world that Arabs look threatening—even subtly—you teach your audiences to trust the army, the drone, the visa rejection. Colonization didn’t end with treaties; it continues in every biased frame.
That frame intensified during the Gulf Wars and solidified during the so-called “War on Terror.” Real names, lives, and stories were wiped clean. The brown man became interchangeable with “terrorist.” Middle Eastern diversity—trauma, art, resistance, complexity—reduced to a single trope.
Even “progressive” media became cages: Palestinians pleading for basic human rights are framed as “radical.” Arabs who speak on their trauma must abandon naming the very reason for their trauma, or else be banned, de-platformed, or erased.
Recently, there has been a surge in the circulation of James Baldwin’s reflections on love—often shared out of context and in ways reminiscent of the selective quoting of Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech, frequently used to soften or obscure his radical critique of American racism. However, Baldwin’s political commitments were far more confrontational than these appropriations suggest. In a 1970 interview with The Boston Globe, he made his position on settler colonialism and violence clear:
“I don’t believe they have the right, after 3,000 years, to reclaim the land with Western bombs and guns on biblical injunction.” — James Baldwin
Baldwin saw the through-line between empire and Zionism. He understood that the same moral machinery that justified slavery, apartheid, and occupation now props up the Israeli regime—and silences anyone who questions it.
And while we’re fed endless fear of Iran—endless warnings, sanctions, and think tank narratives—the truth is this: Israel is the only nuclear power in the Middle East. The real, undeclared nuclear threat. It has refused to sign the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty. It is armed, volatile, and presently engaged in what the UN’s own experts are calling genocide in Gaza. Iran, by contrast, has no nuclear arsenal. But in the Western narrative? Iran is the mad bomber. Israel is the beacon of democracy.
This inversion is not accidental. It’s narrative warfare. It is a campaign of misrepresentation that began in Hollywood, matured in U.S. foreign policy, and continues today on every front page and every algorithm.
What can dismantle this architecture of hatred? We must write new scripts:
Demand representation with dignity: Films, ads, and series must show Palestinians, Iranians, Syrians as whole people—artists, teachers, rebels, lovers.
-
Center intersectional critique: Connect Orientalism to white supremacy, Christian nationalism, and colonial nostalgia.
-
Invite Arab storytellers: Fund, platform, commission, and center our voices.
-
Repair public understanding: Teach audiences that the threat was never our existence—it was the empire that needs enemies to survive.
We’ve never been enemies. We were written as enemies.
It’s time to change the script—and write our own stories centering our perspectives and truths. Truthfully, at the time we are in, our lives depend on it.
{
"article":
{
"title" : "The West’s Manufactured Fear: How Media Made “The Middle-East” the Enemy",
"author" : "Céline Semaan",
"category" : "essays",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/the-wests-manufactured-fear-how-media-made-the-middle-east-the-enemy",
"date" : "2025-06-16 16:53:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/2025_6_16_Manufactured_Hatred_EIP_Cover.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Western media has choreographed the fantasy that every Arab is a potential threat.",
"content" : "Middle Eastern people have long been used as archetypes of hatred from the CIA-scripted paranoia of Homeland to the endless stream of nameless brown “terrorists” in shows like 24, Western media has choreographed a decades-long spectacle of othering. Homeland alone—winner of Emmys and Golden Globes—built its success on the fantasy that every Arab is a potential threat, every Middle Eastern city a breeding ground for “chaos”. It turned suspicion into plot structure and made Arab, and specifically Arab Muslim identity synonymous with violence.Artists write ‘Homeland is racist’ graffiti on setHollywood didn’t invent racism, but it gave it high production value. Generations of Western audiences were conditioned to associate brown skin, spoken-Arabic, or a headscarf—often a keffiyeh-like item—with danger. Whether it was the desert villains in Iron Man, the dehumanized “others” in American Sniper, or the background bodies in every post-9/11 thriller, the message has been consistent: fear the “Middle-Easterner”.Edward Said, in Orientalism, taught us this narrative isn’t accidental; it’s a strategy. It creates the “Other” to justify war, surveillance, and empire. Every film, ad, or news clip showing an “Arab-looking man” as a gunman or scowling fanatic is another brick in the wall of our collective fear.Frantz Fanon described the violence of representation as psychic and systemic: a colonizer’s gaze that dehumanizes and flattens. When you tell the world that Arabs look threatening—even subtly—you teach your audiences to trust the army, the drone, the visa rejection. Colonization didn’t end with treaties; it continues in every biased frame.That frame intensified during the Gulf Wars and solidified during the so-called “War on Terror.” Real names, lives, and stories were wiped clean. The brown man became interchangeable with “terrorist.” Middle Eastern diversity—trauma, art, resistance, complexity—reduced to a single trope.Even “progressive” media became cages: Palestinians pleading for basic human rights are framed as “radical.” Arabs who speak on their trauma must abandon naming the very reason for their trauma, or else be banned, de-platformed, or erased.Recently, there has been a surge in the circulation of James Baldwin’s reflections on love—often shared out of context and in ways reminiscent of the selective quoting of Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech, frequently used to soften or obscure his radical critique of American racism. However, Baldwin’s political commitments were far more confrontational than these appropriations suggest. In a 1970 interview with The Boston Globe, he made his position on settler colonialism and violence clear: “I don’t believe they have the right, after 3,000 years, to reclaim the land with Western bombs and guns on biblical injunction.” — James Baldwin1Baldwin saw the through-line between empire and Zionism. He understood that the same moral machinery that justified slavery, apartheid, and occupation now props up the Israeli regime—and silences anyone who questions it.And while we’re fed endless fear of Iran—endless warnings, sanctions, and think tank narratives—the truth is this: Israel is the only nuclear power in the Middle East. The real, undeclared nuclear threat. It has refused to sign the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty. It is armed, volatile, and presently engaged in what the UN’s own experts are calling genocide in Gaza. Iran, by contrast, has no nuclear arsenal. But in the Western narrative? Iran is the mad bomber. Israel is the beacon of democracy.This inversion is not accidental. It’s narrative warfare. It is a campaign of misrepresentation that began in Hollywood, matured in U.S. foreign policy, and continues today on every front page and every algorithm.What can dismantle this architecture of hatred? We must write new scripts:Demand representation with dignity: Films, ads, and series must show Palestinians, Iranians, Syrians as whole people—artists, teachers, rebels, lovers. Center intersectional critique: Connect Orientalism to white supremacy, Christian nationalism, and colonial nostalgia. Invite Arab storytellers: Fund, platform, commission, and center our voices. Repair public understanding: Teach audiences that the threat was never our existence—it was the empire that needs enemies to survive. We’ve never been enemies. We were written as enemies.It’s time to change the script—and write our own stories centering our perspectives and truths. Truthfully, at the time we are in, our lives depend on it. James Baldwin, quoted in The Boston Globe, 1970. (Exact date and interviewer unknown; commonly cited in archival references and Baldwin scholarship.) ↩ "
}
,
"relatedposts": [
{
"title" : "100+ Years of Genocidal Intent in Palestine",
"author" : "Collis Browne",
"category" : "essays",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/100-years-of-genocidal-intent",
"date" : "2025-10-07 18:01:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/1920-jerusalem.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Every single Israeli prime minister, president, and major Zionist leader has voiced clear intent to erase the Palestinian people from their lands, either by forced expulsion, or military violence. From Herzl and Chaim Weizmann to Ben-Gurion to Netanyahu, the record is not ambiguous:",
"content" : "Every single Israeli prime minister, president, and major Zionist leader has voiced clear intent to erase the Palestinian people from their lands, either by forced expulsion, or military violence. From Herzl and Chaim Weizmann to Ben-Gurion to Netanyahu, the record is not ambiguous:{% for person in site.data.genocidalquotes %}{{ person.name }}{% if person.title %}<p class=\"title-xs\">{{ person.title }}</p>{% endif %}{% for quote in person.quotes %}“{{ quote.text }}”{% if quote.source %}— {{ quote.source }}{% endif %}{% endfor %}{% endfor %}"
}
,
{
"title" : "Dignity Before Stadiums:: Morocco’s Digital Uprising",
"author" : "Cheb Gado",
"category" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/dignity-before-stadiums",
"date" : "2025-10-02 09:08:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/EIP_Cover_Morocco_GenZ.jpg",
"excerpt" : "No one expected a generation raised on smartphones and TikTok clips to ignite a spark of protest shaking Morocco’s streets. But Gen Z, the children of the internet and speed, have stepped forward to write a new chapter in the history of uprisings, in their own style.The wave of anger began with everyday struggles that cut deep into young people’s lives: soaring prices, lack of social justice, and the silencing of their voices in politics. They didn’t need traditional leaders or party manifestos; the movement was born out of a single hashtag that spread like wildfire, transforming individual frustration into collective momentum.",
"content" : "No one expected a generation raised on smartphones and TikTok clips to ignite a spark of protest shaking Morocco’s streets. But Gen Z, the children of the internet and speed, have stepped forward to write a new chapter in the history of uprisings, in their own style.The wave of anger began with everyday struggles that cut deep into young people’s lives: soaring prices, lack of social justice, and the silencing of their voices in politics. They didn’t need traditional leaders or party manifestos; the movement was born out of a single hashtag that spread like wildfire, transforming individual frustration into collective momentum.One of the sharpest contradictions fueling the protests was the billions poured into World Cup-related preparations, while ordinary citizens remained marginalized when it came to healthcare and education.This awareness quickly turned into chants and slogans echoing through the streets: “Dignity begins with schools and hospitals, not with putting on a show for the world.”What set this movement apart was not only its presence on the streets, but also the way it reinvented protest itself:Live filming: Phone cameras revealed events moment by moment, exposing abuses instantly.Memes and satire: A powerful weapon to dismantle authority’s aura, turning complex political discourse into viral, shareable content.Decentralized networks: No leader, no party, just small, fast-moving groups connected online, able to appear and disappear with agility.This generation doesn’t believe in grand speeches or delayed promises. They demand change here and now. Moving seamlessly between the physical and digital realms, they turn the street into a stage of revolt, and Instagram Live into an alternative media outlet.What’s happening in Morocco strongly recalls the Arab Spring of 2011, when young people flooded the streets with the same passion and spontaneity, armed only with belief in their power to spark change. But Gen Z added their own twist, digital tools, meme culture, and the pace of a hyper-connected world.Morocco’s Gen Z uprising is not just another protest, but a living experiment in how a digital generation can redefine politics itself. The spark may fade, but the mark it leaves on young people’s collective consciousness cannot be erased.Photo credits: Mosa’ab Elshamy, Zacaria Garcia, Abdel Majid Bizouat, Marouane Beslem"
}
,
{
"title" : "A Shutdown Exposes How Fragile U.S. Governance Really Is",
"author" : "EIP Editors",
"category" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/a-shutdown-exposes-how-fragile-us-governance-really-is",
"date" : "2025-10-01 22:13:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/EIP_Cover_Gov_ShutDown.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Each time the federal government shutters its doors, we hear the same reassurances: essential services will continue, Social Security checks will still arrive, planes won’t fall from the sky. This isn’t the first Governmental shutdown, they’ve happened 22 times since 1976, and their toll is real.",
"content" : "Each time the federal government shutters its doors, we hear the same reassurances: essential services will continue, Social Security checks will still arrive, planes won’t fall from the sky. This isn’t the first Governmental shutdown, they’ve happened 22 times since 1976, and their toll is real.Shutdowns don’t mean the government stops functioning. They mean millions of federal workers are asked to keep the system running without pay. Air traffic controllers, border patrol agents, food inspectors — people whose jobs underpin both public safety and economic life — are told their labor matters, but their livelihoods don’t. People have to pay the price of bad bureaucracy in the world’s most powerful country, if governance is stalled, workers must pay with their salaries and their groceries.In 1995 and 1996, clashes between President Bill Clinton and House Speaker Newt Gingrich triggered two shutdowns totaling 27 days. In 2013, a 16-day standoff over the Affordable Care Act furloughed 850,000 workers. And in 2018–2019, the longest shutdown in U.S. history stretched 35 days, as President Trump refused to reopen the government without funding for a border wall. That impasse left 800,000 federal employees without paychecks and cost the U.S. economy an estimated $11 billion — $3 billion of it permanently lost.More troubling is what happens when crises strike during shutdowns. The United States is living in an age of accelerating climate disasters: historic floods in Vermont, wildfire smoke choking New York, hurricanes pounding Florida. These emergencies do not pause while Congress fights over budgets. Yet a shutdown means furloughed NOAA meteorologists, suspended EPA enforcement, and delayed FEMA programs. In the most climate-vulnerable decade of our lifetimes, we are choosing paralysis over preparedness.This vulnerability didn’t emerge overnight. For decades, the American state has been hollowed out under the logic of austerity and privatization, while military spending has remained sacrosanct. That imbalance is why budgets collapse under the weight of endless resources for war abroad, too few for resilience at home.Shutdowns send a dangerous message. They normalize instability. They tell workers they are disposable. They make clear that in our system, climate resilience and public health aren’t pillars of our democracy but rather insignificant in the face of power and greed. And each time the government closes, it becomes easier to imagine a future where this isn’t the exception but the rule.The United States cannot afford to keep running on shutdown politics. The climate crisis, economic inequality, and the challenges of sustaining democracy itself demand continuity, not collapse. We need a politics that treats stability and resilience not as partisan victories, but as basic commitments to one another. Otherwise, the real shutdown isn’t just of the government — it’s of democracy itself."
}
]
}