I know this is a little out-of-date, but I wanted to post a little something about an episode of the incredibly popular National Public Radio and Public Radio International syndicated show, This American Life. I’m writing about it because it’s stayed with me ever since I’ve heard it, and I’m not sure what to think about it. The episode is called “Shouting Across the Divide”, and it aired on December 15th, 2006. The theme of the show is “stories of what happens when Muslims and non-Muslims try to communicate and misfire.”

Just as background, I should explain the format of This American Life, because it’s an unusual one. They pick a focus each week and go out find stories on that theme—either the personal stories of real people presented in interview format, readings of poetry and fiction, radio dramas, found tapes, or really anything that seems interesting and fits the theme in some way. The show has been on the air since 1995 and has won several prestigious broadcasting awards, including the Peabody. It’s one of NPR’s most popular programs, second only to “Car Talk”. In the interest of self-disclosure, I also have to admit that it is my favorite things on the radio; I listen to it constantly and I am an obsessive downloader of the show.

But despite my fond feelings for TAL, I feel kind of uncomfortable with the premise of “Shouting Across the Divide”. Two of the stories for the episode (the show’s prologue and “Which One Of Them Is Not Like The Other?”) don’t actually fit the usual Orientalist “East/West” binaries that have shaped the American discourse about the practice of Islam. They do talk about the hybridity of experiences, religious practices, and cultural backgrounds among American Muslims, and that’s a good thing. But the last story, “America, The Ad Campaign”, by writer Shalom Auslander, is so self-satisfied in its ironic wink about racism in the advertising world that despite the fact that it is (I assume) meant to be read as a satire, it’s damn near impossible to listen to. Auslander tells the story of how he was asked to work on America’s ad campaign to sell democracy (and consumerism) to the Middle East. Here’s an excerpt:

“The following morning I was sitting in my office writing commercials about black kids and fire hydrants when there was a knock on my door. I looked up to see a man roughly my age with dark skin, slicked-back hair, and a drawing pad. ‘Shalom?’ he asked, ‘I’m Sabhi.’ I rose and shook his hand. ‘You must be the Arab,’ I said. ‘I’m the Jew.’

Sabhi was from Lebanon, where he had studied graphic arts at the University of Beirut. I asked him what life was like there, how people felt about America, how they felt about their lives and their future. He told me there was a lot of anger and a lot of frustration. There were economic problems, governmental problems, social problems. I asked him what the cause of the problems might be. He told me it was the Jews. ‘The Jews?’ I asked. ‘The Israelis,’ he said. He explained that according to Islamic legend, the prophet Muhammad said there would never be peace in the Muslim world until three cities were under Muslim rule. They currently had Mecca and Medina, but Jerusalem was still controlled by the Jews. ‘The Jews?’ I asked. ‘The Israelis,’ he said. ‘And so,’ he added, ‘that’s why there can be no peace for Muslims.’

An awkward silence followed and an unexpected disappointment overcame me. I realized that as naïve as it might have been to think that advertising could solve these century-old problems, a small part of me (and a large part of the U.S. government) hoped that it could. That something, anything, might be said, or filmed, or edited into a 30-second TV commercial that would undo all that had been so horribly done and that would avoid all the bad that seemed so certain to come in the future. Unfortunately, I was raised with orthodox religion and the minute I hear anyone talking about prophets and holy cities I lose all hope. That, combined with yesterday’s discussion about whether black people swim, and if they do, whether or not they own bathing suits, had caused me to wonder whether we could ever understand the person living right beside use, let alone people on the other side of the world.

‘Well, you’ve got Mecca and Medina,’ I offered Sabhi. ‘Two out of three isn’t bad.’ He kind of laughed. I kind of laughed back. Then he left. The telephone rang. ‘How’d it go?’ asked the account director. ‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Was it helpful?’ ‘Very,’ I said. ‘Should I get you another one?’ she asked.”

Because as we know, all Muslims hate Jews. Sorry, Israelis.

And for me, that’s where the problem lies. It’s true that cultural differences can come off as inscrutable and unknowable, but in truth, it seems to me that structuring the show in such a way that “Muslims” and “Americans” are divided from each other (and shouting across that divide), that sense of difference and exclusion is simply being reinforced and reproduced. If a Muslim lives and follows his or her faith in America, then those practices are by definition part of the bank of acts that make up cultural and religious expression in America--as much as walking in the Puerto Rican Day parade in New York, renting a limo for prom night, starting a bowling league, dancing at a club to a rap song about being a hustler, joining the Rotary Club, becoming a crystal New Age healer, going to a Bollywood movie at a movie theater in New Jersey, or being slain by the Holy Ghost at a storefront church. Maybe I’m being oversensitive, but reinforcing the stereotype of frustrated Muslims who are driven to intolerance by their false sense of persecution by the West completely flattens the discourse about how Muslims in America live, and how those lives might be different from the experiences of people in the Middle East—not all of whom are Muslim, by the way--and why those in the Middle East feel the way they do about Americans.

What are other people’s thoughts on this? You can go to This American Life’s website to listen to an mp3 of the show. It’s under the archives for 2006.