In Gaza, the influence of Western culture proves to be a moderating force
GAZA CITY, Gaza Strip - In a dingy storefront on a noisy block in the middle of Gaza City, metal shelves bulge with dusty audiotapes extolling Hamas, Fatah, and Islamic Jihad. Alongside them, a pouty Jennifer Lopez beckons from the cover of a CD.
DVDs are also on offer, of not-yet-officially-released movies like "Wanted," "Hancock," and "You Don't Mess With the Zohan," the Adam Sandler comedy about a Mossad agent turned hairdresser in a New York City salon run by a Palestinian woman.
Amer Kihail, 32, a slender man with an elastic, hangdog face, runs the store, called New Sound. Do Gazans living under Hamas buy much Western music or many Western movies? Kihail looked baffled, and maybe even a little annoyed, by the question.
"Of course," he said.
Ruled by Hamas, penned in by Israel, grappling with daily shortages of food and supplies, Gazans need an escape. Culture turns out to be not just an afterthought but, many say, essential to surviving here.
Especially for young Gazans, what's on satellite television and the Internet, on tapes and compact discs, is a window to the world beyond the armored checkpoints, and a link to Arab society elsewhere and, crucially, to the West.
And in what is clearly an emerging struggle within Hamas between political pragmatists, trying to consolidate their new authority, and extremists who have begun pressing a more fundamentalist agenda, culture is a central battleground for control of Gaza.
A release from confinement and hardship, even mundane television becomes freighted in this context.
As much as the Pakistan-Afghan frontier, this is a front line in the so-called global war on terror, in which anti-Western strains of Islam rub up against the social and cultural proclivities of many, perhaps most, Muslims.
How the West fares, improbable as it might seem, may depend as much on whether people in this forsaken strip of land and elsewhere in this part of the world are watching "Zohan" and Dr. Phil, as on skirmishes in the mountains south of Kabul. What's happening in a humble Gazan music store, it turns out, has repercussions across the region and beyond.
Gaza isn't what you might imagine, culturally speaking. Like the West Bank, it occupies a special place in the Middle East: Gazans may loathe Israel but have worked there or spent years in Israeli prisons, and while they haven't taken up Jewish culture, they've experienced Western life as many other Arabs haven't. This has encouraged a sensibility that, until lately anyway, had a moderating effect on both religion and society.
Not far from New Sound, booksellers in this city's ancient market hawk sex-instruction manuals alongside yellowing paperbacks from Egypt interpreting the Koran. Arabic translations of old Harlequin romances are laid out on folding tables.
As they do throughout much of the Arab World these days, the streets here clear each night when "Noor" comes on. A Turkish "Dallas," centered around the title character and her rich Muslim family enduring the usual soap opera imbroglios, the show has become so wildly popular that imams in Saudi Arabia and Gaza have lately issued fatwas against anyone who watches it.
Naturally, nobody pays attention. 