A witness to history
Arabic-language daily broadsheet Al Khaleej marked its 50th anniversary in October. The newspaper, which predates the union itself, has shaped the UAE’s media industry.
By Ashleigh Stewart
Illustrations by Peter Hovarth
Raed Barqawi chooses his words carefully. For a living. The executive editor of Al Khaleej looks back with pride over the paper’s 50 years since it launched as the UAE’s first daily newspaper. Barqawi’s own career, spent entirely at Al Khaleej, covers 35 of those years.
Al Khaleej has thrived by speaking truth. In a country where much of the media is government funded, it has maintained its independence amid a populous media industry. For a population of about 10 million, the UAE now has 17 daily newspapers—eight in Arabic, four in English and five in Malayalam.
Barqawi insists that being mindful of sensitivities doesn’t mean avoiding tough questions. “You just need to find a different way to say it,” he says.
Take the time when, at the tender age of 27, he had to interview the deputy finance minister in Abu Dhabi. The minister told him to go away, but agreed under Barqawi’s insistence to answer a couple of yes or no questions.
“He was shocked, he was very busy. I said ‘is the budget bigger than last year?’ He said yes. I said ‘is it a bigger deficit than last year?’ Yes. It took me five minutes. And I was so happy and wrote a lovely story and it was the front of the paper the next day,” Barqawi recounts.
“The deputy minister called me saying ‘Bloody hell, what did you do to me? Did I say all of this?’ And I said ‘Yes, you did.’ He laughed and said I’m a good journalist.”
Al Khaleej is widely credited with shaping the UAE’s media industry. The Arabic daily was founded in Sharjah by brothers Abdullah Omran Taryam and Taryam Omran Taryam on October 19, 1970, the year before the UAE became an independent country. Weekly Abu Dhabi publication Al Ittihad, which launched a year earlier, had the only printing press in the country. So, for the first 18 months, Al Khaleej was printed in Kuwait and flown in to Sharjah each morning.
Al Khaleej took an eight-year hiatus from 1972, when the Taryam brothers were given governmental positions; Abdullah became Minister of Justice and Taryam was the first UAE Ambassador to Egypt. During that time, more publications launched in the UAE.
But it was Al Khaleej that rose to prominence. In 1982, Al Khaleej journalist Adly Barsoum landed an exclusive interview with Yasser Arafat, chairman of the Palestine Liberation Organisation, during the Israeli invasion of Beirut.
What really set Al Khaleej apart, Barqawi says, is the way it dedicated itself to “all Arabs” of the UAE. The paper spoke out about foreign influence on Arab nations and advocated the Palestinian cause. International bureaus were set up to ensure Arab expats felt connected to their homelands.
“Other papers would write two stories about something; we would write 50 stories,” he says. “Other newspapers focused on Abu Dhabi and Dubai; we covered all five other emirates that didn’t have a newspaper. We spoke to the whole country.”
Like the nation, Al Khaleej rose from modest beginnings. Journalists were brought in from across the Arab world. One was Barqawi, then a 22-year-old Jordanian who arrived in the UAE fresh from studying journalism in Bucharest, Romania. His English was poor and he had no experience.
“I knew nothing in journalism. The only thing I knew was from a book. I’d never done an interview or written stories,” Barqawi says.
Budgets were tight. Barqawi recalls taking shared taxis from assignment to assignment—a ride from Sharjah to Dubai cost two dirhams. Al Khaleej ran 20 pages and focused on local news and international Arab affairs. The editorial staff numbered about 60, compared with 200-some now. It was a paper for the people, Barqawi says.
“We used to go to the villages, to the mountains, to every place, even by bicycle to see what people needed. We were transferring what was happening in the government to these people, and they were telling us what they needed, too. We were doing our part in the building of the country,” Barqawi recalls.
Culture was a small section, and business, where Barqawi landed, was even smaller. Thankfully, he says, the two people on the section at the time were crucial mentors. One had attended the same Bucharest university: Riyad Mickdady, now executive editor-in-chief of rival Al Bayan. Barqawi recalls those heady days with fondness.
“In those days there was no mobile, no fax, no nothing. We were proper journalists. People were always willing to chat, they were happy to see journalists. There were no PRs. It was great.”
Al Khaleej became known for its exclusives. One of “the best stories in our history,” Barqawi says, was when the paper broke the news that the Iran-Iraq war had ended, on August 20, 1988.
“Our correspondent in New York was there when [the ceasefire] was signed, away from the media. He had good contacts. Reuters picked it up from us and then it went around the world,” he says.
By the 1990s, the oil boom was creating a metropolis in the desert. Al Khaleej’s business coverage grew from two pages to a 40-page pullout section. Parent Dar Al Khaleej publishing house added five more publications. Al Shuruq, a monthly political magazine launched in 1970, became a weekly in 1992. Family magazine Kul Al Usrah launched in 1993. Gulf Today, Al Khaleej’s English sister publication, launched in 1996, as did monthly business magazine Al Iqtisadi and children’s magazine Al Azkiyaa.
“The ’90s was when it was all happening in Dubai,” Barqawi recalls. “The CEOs, the government officials, us, we all grew up together.”
These close relationships with sources include some of the UAE’s highest-profile figures—including His Highness Sheikh Mohammed Bin Rashid Al Maktoum, Ruler of Dubai and Vice President and Prime Minister of the UAE, and His Highness Sheikh Dr. Sultan Bin Mohamed Al Qasimi, Supreme Council Member and Ruler of Sharjah. Sharjah’s Ruler reads Al Khaleej with a cup of tea at 3am every morning, Barqawi says.
Regardless who they are, Barqawi doesn’t let his contacts off easy.
“People get lazy, they don’t want to push back. But Sheikh Mohammed is always pushing us.”
In 1994, Barqawi became the editor of the business section. In 2004, he became managing editor of the newspaper. A decade later, Barqawi was named executive editor. It was one of the last acts of the late editor and founder Abdullah Taryam, who suffered a stroke and died the day after he signed the document bestowing upon Barqawi his new title.
“I love my newspaper. They’re my family,” he says. “I’ve never resigned, because they are a part of me.”
Fifty years on, Al Khaleej is facing the same pressures as newspapers globally. Print circulation has plunged from a height of about 60,000 copies in 2003 to 32,000. The numbers last year took an added hit due to not printing as much for airlines grounded by the pandemic. The paper has also shrunk from about 60 pages to between 44 and 48.
“There were no sports, no cultural events, no business deals,” Barqawi says. “What can we do?”
Like the rest of the industry, Al Khaleej is trying to figure out how to make money from its online offering, to compensate for declining ad revenue in print. For now, that means investing in digitally savvy journalists, making the website stronger, offering more exclusives, building up social media channels and using targeted ads. What it does not mean is a paywall. Emirati weekly business magazine Arabian Business was the first to put up a paywall in June and more are expected to follow.
“The Arab world is not ready for paywalls,” Barqawi says. “That is the difference between us and the West. You have to be editorially stronger and work more on exclusive stories to push people to pay for it.”
While he believes some newspapers will merge in the coming years, and others may go digital-only, Al Khaleej will not be one of them. Its demographic is primarily older readers, who prefer physical copies. Al Khaleej will stay relevant by continuing to do what it does best—diligently serving the local population. It means it won’t diversify to become a pan-Arab voice. It began by representing the Arabs that make up the UAE, Barqawi says. And that is how it means to go on, as a family.
“Taryam used to say that when you arrive to a newspaper as a new journalist, leave your passport—we are the same. Indian labourers, journalists, others,” Barqawi says. Now, Khaled Abdullah Omran Taryam, chairman of the publishing house and the editor in chief of Al Khaleej, says exactly that to the staff.
