NEW ON THE JOB

New Head Embraces Challenges at Arab-American Charity

A billboard in the heartland state of Missouri carries a message that cuts directly to the issue that confronts Nidal Ibrahim as he begins work as executive director of the Arab American Institute.

"Who would you rather buy your gas from?" the advertisement asks in big white letters. On the left side of the billboard stands a white farmer in a polo shirt. On the opposite side stands the former king of Saudi Arabia dressed in a turban.

The sign, sponsored by the Missouri Corn Growers Association, is aimed at promoting the use of ethanol-based fuel. But to Mr. Ibrahim and many other Arab-Americans, the billboard also speaks to the prevailing view that Arabs are the enemy.

"The issue is one that makes a lot of sense," Mr. Ibrahim says of the billboard's message. "We should be more self-sufficient and self-reliant. But the way the whole campaign is constructed is bigoted. These are the types of issues we still fight."

It is also the type of issue that has thrust the Arab American Institute in Washington into the center of the American political and social debate.

Ever since airplanes became the weapons of terrorists on September 11, 2001, the organization has taken on an increasing role in trying to communicate the interests and aspirations of Arab-Americans to a skeptical and, at times, hateful public. At the same time, it has also been placed in the position of attempting to heal natural internal divisions among Arab-Americans that have escalated since the terrorist attacks.

Mr. Ibrahim, 39, says there has been some confusion among Arab-Americans as to how they should handle their place in the post-September 11 world. That's not a surprise, he says, given the fact that more than 3.5 million people of Arab descent live in the United States, and they come from a wide array of countries and profess different faiths.

But perhaps more than most of his fellow Arab-Americans, Mr. Ibrahim understands that diversity and how it fits into modern American culture.

A native of Jerusalem, Mr. Ibrahim came to the United States at age 9. He attempted to assimilate into the American school system at a time when tensions between the United States and the Arab world were at another historic peak — during the Iran hostage crisis of the late 1970s. During that time, he was called names by his classmates and singled out, even though he had no connection to the political battle that was happening half a world away.

"I remember at grammar school being called a camel jockey," he says. "I've been labeled other things. This isn't new, using a broad brush to paint someone."

But although he has felt the pain of discrimination, Mr. Ibrahim has also embraced American life. He's lived in California, Illinois, and New Jersey; worked as a journalist and businessman; and founded a successful magazine, Arab American Business.

In turn, he understands how to communicate a message, run an organization, and, perhaps most important, appreciate both the challenges and opportunities that confront Arab-Americans, says Rick Reiff, executive editor of the Orange County Business Journal in Los Angeles and Mr. Ibrahim's former editor. "Nidal has not taken an easy route," says Mr. Reiff. "He's not satisfied just settling somewhere. He's always looking for something that has meaning. He's doing something he feels very passionate about, which is advocating for the concerns of Arab-Americans."

Mr. Ibrahim's organization, which has an annual budget of about $1.3-million and more than 17,000 supporters, represents a population that is a growing political and social force and has an unprecedented opportunity to frame its point of view to the larger American public.

In an interview, Mr. Ibrahim talked about the challenges his group faces:

What has prepared you for this role as a key spokesman for Arab-Americans?

I've been exposed to the issues we're dealing with all my life. Profiling. Discrimination. Those issues are not new.

The other aspect of my training that will be very helpful is I come from a media background. I understand how important the message is. I understand how important it is to relate to the average American.

How much has that changed since September 11?

9/11 in many respects has changed this community in ways that it has not yet fully grasped. Others have sought to take that event and have used it as a way to demonize the Arab-American community.

Some of us have decided the best way to handle this is to disappear, to not make a noise and not do anything related to politics. Others have recognized that the community must step up and address our fellow Americans. We need to define for them what an Arab-American is. In many respects, the terrorists sought to paint everything Arab and Islam in one broad brush. Because of this, you see a new degree of activism, a new dynamism among Arab-Americans.

What are some of your goals for the organization?

I'm sort of bringing a business mind-set to the process. I'm trying to bring value to our membership. I want to understand what we are specifically providing our membership, what is the return on their investment.

How has the organization done in this regard in the past?

The Arab American Institute has always been associated with political empowerment of the community. We've always done get-out-the-vote drives. We've always done voter- education drives. We have managed to build a national platform for Arab-American political participation.

What have you learned as someone who came to the United States from overseas?

I'm very much aware that the cultural outlook of the person I live next to and the guy I buy my coffee from may not necessarily be along the lines of how I view things. I'm also cognizant of the idea that we all have children who live in this country. We have children to engage in this country. The ideals of this country, while they might not always translate to actual practice, what drives us and what defines us as Americans, regardless of where you came from, is that everybody wants to leave the world a little bit better than when they got here.