Woman Who Fell From the Sky - Jennifer Steil [74]
“But they are afraid to bring you home,” says Anne-Christine. “They are afraid of their wives. They cannot introduce them to you.”
“Because I am a Western woman?”
“Because you are a beautiful woman. And women are very jealous. They would not allow their husbands to work—and until such late hours!—with a woman like you.”
A woman like me. I’m not sure I even know what that means anymore.
ELEVEN
the trials of mohammed al-asaadi
The fanatics are calling for our heads. They’ve been calling for our heads since last February, when the Yemen Observer republished controversial Danish cartoons depicting the Prophet Mohammed, one of which shows the prophet with a bomb tucked in his turban. The paper reprinted three of the cartoons on the Op-Ed page, alongside an editorial condemning them. A large black X obscured the cartoons, yet this did nothing to temper their inflammatory impact. Islam considers even respectful depictions of the prophet to be blasphemy. The Yemen Observer and Mohammed al-Asaadi have been on trial for nearly ten months.
The twelve cartoons, originally printed in the newspaper Jyllands-Posten in September 2005 and reprinted by scores of Western publications, sparked outrage. Muslim protestors staged violent demonstrations throughout Asia, Africa, and the Middle East, during which at least fifty people were killed. The cartoonists received death threats, editors went into hiding, and Danish goods were boycotted.
Despite the Yemen Observer’s explicit condemnation of the cartoons, the Yemeni government insisted that the mere reprinting of them constituted an unforgivable offense against Islam. Fanatics called for the execution of al-Asaadi, and the courts shut down the paper for three months. Al-Asaadi spent twelve days in prison before he was released on bail. Yemeni prisons do not provide inmates with food and water, so reporters and family ensured al-Asaadi was fed during his internment.
Court date after court date passes without a final ruling. If we are convicted, the paper could be shut down. We could all lose our jobs. But the judges keep postponing the sentencing. The wait is taking a toll on al-Asaadi, who by November looks exhausted and drawn.
Al-Asaadi has worked for the Yemen Observer since 1999, when Faris plucked him out of an Internet shop in Ta’iz. “It was always my dream to be a journalist,” al-Asaadi told me. “Since seventh grade. Either a journalist or a diplomat.” But he was unable to study for either of those careers. Al-Asaadi grew up in the village of Ramadi in Ibb Governorate, the greenest, most fertile part of Yemen. He headed to nearby Ta’iz for university, where there were no courses in media studies or international relations. Media courses were offered in Sana’a, but al-Asaadi had no money to travel. So he studied English.
Just a couple months after graduation, al-Asaadi was working in an Internet café in Ta’iz when Faris walked in to check his e-mail. He was sitting there reading the Yemen Times, and Faris asked if he ever read the Observer. Al-Asaadi said he did. Faris then quizzed him about a recent issue, asking him what he thought of various stories, including one that he himself had written. Al-Asaadi gave his opinion, not suspecting he was speaking with the publisher of the paper. Faris said, “I am Hessam, the brother of Faris. If you want a job at the Yemen Observer, maybe I can talk with him.”
“Yes!” cried al-Asaadi, feeling lucky indeed. The two men exchanged phone numbers and Faris went on his way.
Two days later, al-Asaadi rang Faris at the Observer. “I met your brother,” he said. “And he said you might have a job.”
Faris then confessed his true identity. “I just wanted to see how interested you really were,” he said.
Al-Asaadi began working as an office assistant. Faris helped him to get training, and al-Asaadi received several grants to study journalism abroad. By the time I came to the paper, al-Asaadi had risen as far up the masthead as it is possible to go.