AFTER iftar, the breaking of the fast during Ramadan, a crowd gathers around a large television screen in a seafront restaurant in Beirut, the Lebanese capital. The mainly Lebanese audience have come to watch Bab al-Hara, the best known of Syrian soap operas, which has been broadcast during this year’s fasting month that ends tonight, July 27th.
The series, whose name means “Door of the Neighbourhood”, is set in the 1940s during the Syria struggle for independence. It drew 50m viewers from across the region for the finale of its fifth season in 2010. Following a four-year hiatus—during which Syria has gone from peace to war—it is back with a sixth season. But it has failed to inspire the same enthusiasm.
Syria’s struggle against the French in the early part of the 20th century was central to earlier seasons, with spies meeting a nasty end. This year the story has focused on the third marriage of Abou Issam, a character brought back due to popular demand (and reconciliation between the actor who plays him and the show's director, Bassam al-Mulla). The character is married a French nurse who is secretly a spy.
The spy’s confession to her husband is met with mercy, rather than revenge. “Forgive her, this is important in Islam,” the protagonist is told by a sheikh. This is just one example of a more forgiving, unity-promoting theme that has crept into “Bab al-Hara” this season—perhaps because it was partly filmed in Damascus, Syria's capital, and some cast members are loyal to the Syrian regime. As a result, its popularity is sliding. Fans also complain about discrepancies in the storylines, and a lack of originality. “Before, it was 10 o’clock, time to watch ‘Bab al Hara’,” says Abir Naayel, a 24-year-old Lebanese shop manager. “But that time is over.”
The decrease in popularity is not just the fault of the show; another problem is that viewers no longer buy into its romanticised version of the past, says Donatella della Ratta, a researcher who studies Syrian television at the University of Copenhagen. “‘Bab al-Hara’ is a story of resistance and unity,” she says. “How can you talk about national unity when you are in a situation of civil war? It’s kind of awkward.”
This year only 20 Syrian series were made, a stark contrast to the 40 produced in 2010, before the war. Gulf satellite channels that used to buy the dramas have since turned their focus to homemade productions starring Syrian actors.
Syrian actors, producers and directors have fanned out across the Arab world, forced to leave their homeland either because of their political beliefs or simply in search of work. Many film sets in Syria have been destroyed or are inaccessible due to fighting, promoting directors to look to neighbouring Lebanon for locations. (This year's “Bab al-Hara” was filmed mainly in Dubai and Lebanon—during filming in Damascus in June, the set was hit by a shell.) Such Syrian-Lebanese co-productions escape Syrian government censorship, but don’t always make it onto Syrian TV.
In Syria itself, soap operas are still helping to break social taboos, as they always have done. The mockery of religion is in vogue this year, and not just in soap operas. One sketch in “Spotlight”, a popular Syrian comedy show, sees jihadists telling Syrians to veil themselves before being chased off screen by dinosaurs.
