Who gets to tell Arab stories in an age increasingly shaped by artificial intelligence?
The question was central to the opening day’s discussion at the International Congress of Arabic and Creative Industries, held at Abu Dhabi’s Etihad Arena on Sunday.
Running until Monday and organised by the Abu Dhabi Arabic Language Centre, the event featured prominent regional voices across different mediums – from Tunisian-Egyptian actress Hend Sabry and Jordanian director Tima Shomali to Lebanese filmmaker Nadine Labaki and Palestinian-American comedian Mo Amer.
Each spoke to their creative journeys, their reflections on what constitutes authentic storytelling and some industry roadblocks faced along the way.
Sabry, one of the Arab world’s most recognisable actresses and cover star of The National's inaugural issue of TN magazine, spoke openly about the resistance encountered as a woman making her mark in the regional film industry.
“I faced a lot of resistance. Deep resistance. It’s not personal. It is purely a gender issue. Our industry is like any other industry, in that there is this challenge of who controls what,” she said.
“So when female voices want not just to contribute, but also to have control over the narrative, that becomes a problem. It means you have to justify yourself constantly. You have to justify every decision – from the smallest to the hardest – simply because you are a woman.”
Shomali followed with her own example, pointing to the reach of AlRawabi School for Girls, which broke into Netflix’s global top 10 in more than 48 countries, including a week at number one in France. Even with those numbers, she said, some scepticism persisted.
“I remember a colleague in the television industry told me to avoid female stories because they’re not that popular. I had just shown him that it can be a global success, but he still said: 'Let’s avoid female stories,'” she said.
Labaki, the director of Caramel and the Oscar-nominated Capernaum, reflected on how a lack of structural organisation has left many emerging Arab filmmakers struggling on their own. “When I first started, the biggest challenge was that there was no real film industry. No system to support you and no people out there who were willing to embrace your work,” she said.
“Every filmmaker I knew felt alone, that they were on a personal adventure and trying to find their own way. Most gave up halfway because of the difficulties such as the lack of proper funding. At the beginning, I too felt completely alone on the path, and these issues need to be addressed if we are looking for more stories that reflect our condition.”
Amer closed the day with a reflection on his comedy career, which extends to his acclaimed, biographically inspired Netflix series Mo. He explained how his work has always been informed by personal experience.
“Comedy is the most beautiful art form I’ve ever seen in my life. After I left Kuwait [because of the first Gulf War] and arrived in Houston, I saw stand-up comedy there for the first time. I knew immediately that this is it, this is what I want to do” he said. “Because of the stories you can tell from your heart, from what you see around you and how you share them on stage.”
That connection, he added, cannot be replicated with the growing use of AI in the creative arts. “I’ve experimented with it and what I found is the artist needs to be behind it to really tell the story,” he said. “Especially in comedy, or anything connected to the heart. That’s why I say it’s artificial for a reason – it lacks the same emotional dimensions.”
Another thing technology could never channel, Amer said, is the personal trauma that has always shaped comedy and other art forms.
“Most great comedians come from some form of pain. It doesn’t mean their stand-up has pain in it, but their lives do. For me, my whole life has been pain – not the very beginning, that was lovely – but once you experience pain again and again, something draws you to this art form,” he said.
“It’s therapy and I can say that comedy saved my life. When I share my stories openly, people react strongly. Sometimes they cry when they meet me on the street. That makes it worth it.”
