“I’m excited — and I ain’t even Muslim!”
Jim had a big grin on his face as he bellowed that thought at me in his Deep South-flavored American accent.
A flight attendant paused just beside us as she waited for a pilgrim dressed in two white robes to maneuver past her to get back to his seat.
The elderly man was in ihraam, the dress code for the pilgrimage — a sign of simple equality for all men. Women don’t wear the white robes, but are expected to dress modestly. A small line of people was beginning to build up outside the small aircraft lavatory, as pilgrims waited to wash or change into their robes. Even prior to boarding the plane, many had already adopted ihraam, reflecting their state of preparedness for performing the Haj. They all had a quietly excited and nervous look in their eyes.
Jim continued to smile to himself as he looked toward the front of the plane, where the pilgrims were lining up patiently.
“This has taken seven years, ya know that?!”
Then he turned his head toward me and asked, “So. What ya feelin’? Is this a religious experience for you?”
Jim Miller was a large man. Actually, a very large man. At six feet three inches in height and a rotund girth that had him weighing around 250 pounds — close to 114 kilos — Big Jim dwarfed most of the people on the plane.
After reflecting for a few moments, I answered him with a shrug of the shoulders.
“I don’t know, really,” I said, “I was brought up Muslim, but grew up in London in what was largely a Christian schooling environment. I know what the Haj is, of course, but I don’t have a clue what to expect.”
“Ain’t it funny! It took a Southern Baptist Christian to twist enough arms to get permission for the first live international television coverage of the Haj! Don’t you forget it!”
It was true. And I couldn’t forget it. It was 1998, and Jim Miller had become the man who effectively brought the Haj to the world on satellite television. As one of CNN’s top international field producers, Jim had seen action in just about every war zone, disaster zone and general news zone. In 1990, CNN had sent him to Saudi Arabia as part of the large logistical team producing coverage on the invasion by Iraq of Kuwait and subsequent intervention by US-led forces. While he was there, Jim monitored local television channels, and witnessed the huge gathering of pilgrims in the small, desert city of Makkah. Saudi TV was putting the pictures out across the country, and Jim just stood there with his mouth open in awe. He was stunned by the sight of so many people, officially just over two million — in reality probably closer to three million — crammed into such a small town. As he investigated what the pilgrimage was all about, he realized that this was actually a big story for an international news network.
There were, however, two barriers that Jim faced. First, the Saudi Arabian authorities had never allowed extensive live coverage of the Haj by an international network, and secondly, he had to justify to CNN why they should spend precious newsgathering money on covering such an event.
Jim’s straight-talking, honest style was a hit with the Saudis. They liked the fact they knew exactly where he was coming from, and hearing what was on his mind. Still, for five years, from Jim’s initial approach in 1991, the Ministry of Information declined requests to send a CNN crew in for live coverage of the Haj. Undeterred, Jim continued to chip away at his contacts, which included a deputy minister and prince, and a large handful of top government officials.
Finally, in 1996, word came from the Kingdom that they would look favorably on such a request. This time, it was the turn of CNN to question the need to cover such a story. Jim banged his head repeatedly on his office desk in frustration.
A year later, CNN agreed, but the Saudis said, “Well, we offered last time, and you didn’t come!”
Jim knew he would be banging his head on the table once more.
Early in 1998, he came to me with an excited look in his eyes.
“Okay! I think it’s finally going to happen. Are you ready for a trip to Makkah?”
I looked at him skeptically and replied, “Sure... if it ever happens.”
But I could tell he was genuinely optimistic this time.
“Wait a minute”, I asked, “Are you the Producer on the project?”
“Heck, yeh!”, came the deep, booming Jim Miller reply, “Do you think I worked so hard on this not to see it through?”
“But you’re not even Muslim”, I reminded him.
As we settled into the flight to Jeddah, Jim went through the logistics he had meticulously prepared. That’s one thing Jim can do... organize — and organize extremely well. That’s what makes him invaluable as a field producer.
Jim and our video editor, Scott, would stay at the Holiday Inn, in Jeddah, setting up an editing suite in Scott’s room.
I and a tough Jordanian Palestinian cameraman, Mohammed, would be in Makkah itself, along with Mehdi, one of the staff from the CNN Beirut Bureau to help us. Every day, we would do live reports from Makkah, and film enough material to edit together 3-4 minute reports for the network. The raw materials and my sound track would be couriered to Jim and Scott from Makkah by car. With a journey time of about an hour between Islam’s holiest city and the large, sprawling Jeddah, it would take some careful coordination to make sure the materials reached them in time for the deadlines.
Landing at Jeddah Airport during the Haj is an experience in itself.
Tens-of-thousands of people mill around excitedly at any one time. The Saudi authorities separate off pilgrims to a special Haj terminal, where tour groups from various countries can gather their people and brief them on what to expect during the pilgrimage.
For us, landing with a dozen cases of professional television gear, there was guaranteed hassle at the Customs. Ministry of Information helpers did ease the path somewhat, but I could tell, there was a large dose of suspicion and concern at an airport that rarely saw foreign television crews passing through its doors. We all smiled as much as possible for as long as possible.
The first night, the whole team stayed in Jeddah, where the Ministry of Information runs a help desk in the Holiday Inn lobby. It was a chance to get acquainted with those from the ministry who would escort and help us in Makkah, and also to finalize the plan of action. Thanks to Jim’s organizational skills a solid plan was in place, and we were all ready to make this work.
Day two after arriving, Mohammed, Mehdi and I left Jeddah, with Jim and Scott comfortably setting up a control center for video editing and communications at the hotel. Jim seemed a little frustrated that he wasn’t going Makkah, as he had seen footage of the Haj on Saudi TV back in 1991. Scott wasn’t to feel that frustration until a couple of days later, when he started seeing the video we were filming and sending back to him to edit.
It was my first time working with Mohammed, and I found him to be a man of few words but a wealth of experience. Like Jim, he had also covered all the war zones, particularly in the Middle East and Africa, and had a sense of how things worked on the street.
Mehdi was also a quiet man. Older, and limping due to being hit by bullets in his leg in Beirut’s civil war twenty years earlier, he remained serene, like nothing could faze him.
As we drove down from Jeddah into Makkah for the first time, we watched the stream of pilgrims making their way by car to the holy city. Along the way there were rest spots where small cafes served simple food and offered washing facilities for those wanting to pray, or don their ihraam.
Catching us a bit by surprise, we came upon the gateway to Makkah — a large structure over the road, looking at first like a pedestrian bridge. It is actually shaped like an open Qur’an on a bookstand. Most people seeing it for the first time just stared at it, surprised to see Islam’s holy book portrayed on such a large scale.
From there it did not take long to get to the winding, narrow streets of Makkah, passing through small, rocky hills. The traffic was getting heavy as the pilgrims filled the streets.
We arrived at our hotel about a kilometer up the road from the Great Mosque, and unloaded our camera equipment.
Mohammed suggested the first thing we should do should be a reconnaissance of the road to the mosque so we could plan our travel time by foot with the heavy technical gear.
Stepping out of the hotel, we strolled down among the gradually swelling sea of people all heading to pray around midday at the mosque.
The road wound around until we found ourselves able to walk up a ramp to a small traffic bridge a few hundred meters from the massive marble structure. As we stood there with a clear view of the heart of this city, it suddenly struck us all that we were finally here.
Without warning, I found myself crying. I couldn’t really tell why. The charged air and emotion of the place was overwhelming. I felt silly, trying to hide my watering eyes, until I noticed that Mohammed was crying too. This physically and emotionally tough, war-experienced cameraman was also caught up in the electric atmosphere.
Impulsively, I phoned my mother in London, but found I couldn’t talk clearly to her. It didn’t really matter... she was too busy crying.
I think it was a defining moment in my life.
Standing there in front of the Great Mosque, at the heart of Islam, feeling the emotion that so many pilgrims brought with them to that place. I had never really thought I would see Makkah, but here I was.
All thanks to a Southern Baptist Christian.