In the summer of 2000, I spent three months in one of the Arab countries, and what first caught my attention in the city where I stayed was the disappearance of people from the streets during the airing of the series "Al-Zeer Salem." I thought to myself: Perhaps it’s a masterfully intriguing series, otherwise, why would so many people gather around it?
When I started watching it, I found a refined drama, classical Arabic that resonates beautifully to the ears, and delicate poetry accompanied by a background score that encourages both the foreigner and the Arab to savor the sweetness of the Arabic language. Upon researching the production team, I discovered that the director of this work was a young, ambitious Syrian named Hatem Ali, whose overflowing genius and keen intelligence astounded me!
About two years after that year, the man began directing the series "Saqr Quraish," which tells the story of Muslims in Andalusia, starting with the establishment of the Umayyad Caliphate there by Abdul Rahman Al-Dakhil. This was followed by the series "Rabi' Qurtuba" and "Kings of the Taifas." Through these impactful works, he managed to endear classical Arabic to its people while covering an extremely important period in our Arab and Islamic history, which contributed to providing the indifferent with valuable knowledge about their heritage and civilization.
Then came a significant turning point in the man's life with the directing of the series "Omar" (may Allah be pleased with him), which was brilliantly written by Dr. Walid Saif; that genius, inspirational man who showcased in many of his works the easy language filled with metaphors, similes, and imagery. Due to the meticulous performance on all levels, the series garnered incredibly high viewership worldwide, serving as a true alternative to the triviality that has spoiled taste, language, and exhausted the spirit!
In the mid-1980s, Mahfouz Abdel Rahman wrote "Writing on Burning Flesh," and prior to that, he wrote "The Night of the Fall of Granada." Meanwhile, the writer Najat Rifat Al-Khatib crafted the screenplay for the series "Abu Al-Tayyib Al-Mutanabbi" in the early 1980s. In 2002, director Khalaf Al-Anzi collaborated with writer Jamal Abu Hamdan to produce the historical series "Imru' al-Qais: The Bitter Revenge," in addition to other works such as the series "Omar Ibn Abdul Aziz," directed by Ahmed Tawfiq and starring Nour El-Sherif.
The generation of the 70s and 80s recalls the Iraqi series "Madina Al-Qawaid" and the series "Where Is My Place in Grammatical Parsing?" featuring the actress Fawzia Al-Shandi and the late artist Jafar Al-Sadi, where these two works focused on teaching the Arabic language and its grammar in a smooth dramatic manner, bringing classical Arabic closer to its speakers and reinforcing literary values and ethical commitments away from material gain and moral decline.
A Negative Image
On the other hand, many Arab artistic works have presented a negative image of the Arabic language teacher, portraying him as a comical, wretched, and poor character with tattered clothing, like the one embodied by Najib Al-Rihani in the film "Ghazl Al-Banat," or as portrayed by Mohamed Henedi in the film "Ramadan Mabrouk Abu Al-Alamein," or the one acted by artist Abdel Moneim Ibrahim in some of his works, most notably "Ismail Yasin in the Fleet" and the film "Ambassador Aziza."
In this context, memory recalls a scene from the film "Soft Hands," when the man who read the advertisement about free lodging in one of the palaces entered to find Ahmad Mazhar, the owner of the palace who could not find anything to eat. When the man asked Salah Zulfikar about his profession, he replied: "Doctor." The man was pleased because with free accommodation in the palace he would also have a doctor to treat him for free. However, Zulfikar spoiled the man's joy by informing him that he was a doctor "in 'even!'" He then gave him an example, saying: "I ate the fish even its head," and the scene ended with the man's sarcastic question: "Is your kind of doctor fried or grilled?"
The mockery did not stop there; it was taken up by "the leader," leading to a series of extremely trivial farcical acts. The painful part is that the later generations in the arts and music ripped the belly of the Arabic language, pulled out its insides, and threw them out on the side of the road!
Anyone who follows artistic works in our great Arab homeland will find that they have largely taken the Arabic language and its grammar as a source of mockery and ridicule, as is the case in many aspects of our Islamic and Arab civilization. Notably, this mockery resonates deeply in the hearts of Arab people, and it is not without ignorance and foolishness!
As described by the writer Mustafa Sadiq al-Rafi'i, the language represents one of the manifestations of history, and no nation exists without history. Therefore, preserving the Arabic language and the identity we distinguish ourselves by necessitates combating all challenges through media and refined drama, as well as the creations of artistic icons.
Mutual Benefits
On another note, the language has helped poets and artists reach large segments of the audience. The poem "I See You Hard Against Tears" is one of the most beautiful poems in Arabic poetry by the eloquent Arab knight Abu Firas al-Hamdani. As soon as he began to boast at the beginning of the poem, he was overtaken by romantic feelings, and his heart softened, producing one of the gems of Arabic poetry.
The preservation of the Arabic language is an urgent demand, as it is the shortcut to reclaiming identity. To fully submit to attempts to assault it by drama makers, among others, is madness. It is essential to cultivate a generation that, if it does not learn the language, at least does not feel repulsed by it, nor mock it, or those who speak it!
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