A friend of mine was visiting from the United States and during his trip we spent many hours discussing our image in the Western media. As always, I was quite forthright in my opinions and what was even more refreshing was that he agreed that there were some very basic ways in which we could exert damage control. He called me from the airport on his way out of Jeddah in a very agitated mood.
“The flight has been delayed yet again,” he began, “and I can’t believe the way they treat people here.”
“What do you mean?” I asked earnestly.
“Lubna, it’s absolutely terrible. These poor workers are abused at our airports, ‘wallahi’. They are treated worse than animals.”
“Actually,” I corrected, “they afford animals in the Western Hemisphere a great deal more respect and courtesy.”
I cringed at the mental images that flooded through my mind of all the times that I had been at the airport watching impotently as expatriate workers were screamed at, herded together, shoved around, insulted and berated in a language they had no comprehension of.
“You have to write about this,” ordered my friend. “I am disgusted at the mistreatment of these people. It’s all part of the same problem though,” he commented.
“What problem?” I inquired wanting him to be more specific.
“The fact that for decades now we have entertained this false nasty arrogance thinking that we are entitled to look down on other races and nationalities because we are the chosen people. What we never realized is that we are not. We can’t seem to understand that we have no right to treat other human beings in such a shabby and derisive way. If we want to command respect in the international arena we have to start cleaning up our act.”
“Boy, don’t I know that,” I replied in exasperation. “The despicable behavior that we so proudly show off at airports never fails to amaze me,” I said in disgust. “What makes us think that we can act with such impunity with the weakest most defenseless people of all? To me, it speaks of a deeper social malaise.”
“You are so right,” he agreed. “What I just don’t get is how it is that we can invite people, and yes,” he emphasized, “I really mean just that, invite them to our country and then give them the hardest time when they arrive. It just doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know,” I echoed in frustration.
“There were queues of maids who were rounded up like cattle. In fact, if you do write this you should give it the title ‘The Cattle Run’ because that’s what it’s like. I am not joking. They had to stand in line forever and it was the weirdest thing I have ever seen because they kind of joined their hands together in a long line like a human chain.”
“Probably because they’re terrified!”
“Then they get booted into this disgusting tiny room cramped together like tinned sardines. I was so upset when I saw that,” he confessed.
“From what I heard they don’t even have water in there. Imagine turning up clueless and afraid in another country to that kind of reception. That’s just criminal!”
“Remember how we were talking about how we could work on improving the PR of this place?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“Tell me honestly for all the rhetoric that we come up with, if hypothetically we invited foreign journalists to come over and schmoozed them and then they saw what goes on at our airports do you honestly think they’d walk away from this place with a very good impression of us?”
“Spot on,” I concurred.
“It’s ridiculous. What’s worse is that by far the vast majority of Saudis actually happen to be wonderful people so why do we have these goons out in force at the airport who possess the social skills of cavemen?”
I happened to mention this conversation to a friend of mine who returned yesterday through the North Terminal in Jeddah and he added his experience to my repertoire of airport horror stories.
“Do you know that there wasn’t even adequate signposting where I got out? It’s absurd that these poor people don’t even have a clue as to where to go and subsequently spend ages standing in the wrong lines reserved for GCC passport holders and are then told ‘ruh! ruh!’ when they get to the front. They are then sent to the back of the queue all over again.”
“And how on earth are they supposed to understand Arabic fresh from the plane?” I added in contempt. “What gives us the right to bark instructions in an alien language to these ‘masakeen’?” I asked.
If I were to expound upon the issue of airports in Saudi Arabia and what I have seen I could feasibly exhaust the broadsheets of the entire newspaper. What we have to understand is that we need these people and that is why we have asked them to leave their homes and join us in the first place. We are not doing them any favors. By treating them in such a reprehensible manner we are doing ourselves and our religion the ultimate disservice. It doesn’t cost anything to be polite and civilized. What’s more is that these people are the most deserving of our compassion and understanding due to their pathetic circumstances. The next time we cry and complain about how we are mistreated at airports in America, I think that we really need to take a close look at how it is that we treat people on our own turf. What’s more is that the behavior we subject these poor people to has not in any way been inspired by the loss of over 3,000 Saudi lives in terrorist attacks by them.
(Lubna Hussain is a Saudi writer. She is based in Riyadh.)