How Japan Continues To Shape Arab Imagination
Words by Yasmeen Alsinan
In concert halls across the Middle East, voices harmoniously sing messages of hope, love, and solidarity of an Arab identity that was forged through a collective, consciousness-defined childhood magic cast on an entire generation of dreamers. Rasha Rizk’s iconic music has graced the televisions of young hopefuls for generations, inviting us to enter worlds of adventure in animated cartoons that urge the importance of unity and growth as a community. It then comes as no surprise that Rasha’s music remains a potent reminder of a colorful upbringing that strikes a chord in our hearts, and such staying power is evident in the myriad of concerts she performs to this day. However, the fantasy Rasha sings of is not limited to a fictional space. Indeed, the wonderful world of Arabic-dubbed cartoons, known as “anime”, has come to impact and define our real world in more ways than we imagine.
Adnan wa Lina
From Adnan wa Lina to Almuhaqiq Conan and Remi, many of us have grown up alongside shows spoken in our native Arabic language. Their stories were intricately crafted to not only entertain children with their beautiful artwork but also serve as a reminder of the hidden meanings of life. As these anime have woven themselves into the fabric of society, we naturally came to view them as a familiar friend – a collective experience shared amongst the Arab community. Yet we simultaneously acknowledged, on an unconscious level, that they were not wholly Arab-made, and such realization often occurred when encountering unfamiliar names and an unreadable language. How did we come to see “Maruko” as a familiar household name, and when was “Uncle Togo” embraced naturally into the Arabic lexicon?
These questions piqued my interest as a child. I was a curious adventurer, eager to absorb every series in my way and explore every adventure I would stumble upon. At the time, I took it as a mission to find out one thing: just who made these shows? Little did I know that such an innocent inquiry would end up shaping the course of my life.
“Arab travelers have dominated inbound travel, resulting in an outstanding 74.4% growth in the sector between 2023 and 2024.”
As our generation matured into adults, many have come to understand that the Arabic cartoons we watched were produced in Japan, a nation known for its influential cultural exports from Sony to Nintendo and beyond. For many, this was an interesting fact that led to an appreciation for the art, while for others, it was an invitation to further invest in this foreign culture, ultimately leading to the formation of an Arab society interested in Japanese animation, known as “anime”. The young kids who watched Adnan wa Lina are now adults consuming Japanese animation, comics, and video games, even going as far as producing and creating their own. This has led to various creative initiatives in the Arab world, further strengthening the ties between Japan and the Middle East. Accompanying Rasha’s nostalgic music were now anime-oriented conventions, an Anime Village in Jeddah, and even Arab-produced anime movies.
This Arab-Japanese connection has not gone under the radar for the other side either. Post-pandemic, Japan has attracted tourists from across the globe, many eager to dine on delicious sushi while wandering the bustling streets of Tokyo. Arab travelers were, of course, not an outlier. They have dominated inbound travel, resulting in an outstanding 74.4% growth in the sector between 2023 and 2024.1 This places the Middle East as the third highest-growing demographic of international travelers, according to the Japan National Tourism Organization.
This fervent interest in Japan comes as no surprise. In a way, the connection between the island nation and the Middle East was forged into our DNA the second Adnan wa Lina graced television sets across the region. Culturally, the lessons encouraged in Arabic-dubbed anime showcase the surprising similarities between Japan and the Arab world. The emphasis on family, the importance of integrity, down to the custom of removing one’s shoes when entering a home resonated naturally across both cultures. So it comes as no surprise why Arabs of all ages found a familiar warmth from watching Maruko’s adventures.
Captain Majid
On Japan’s side, Middle Eastern culture has always been a popular theme in their works. The Adventures of Sinbad – a series also beloved in the Arab world – was a love letter to our culture, as were many other anime inspired by our regional folklore. With the surge of Arab travelers, there is also a keen interest on the Japanese side to understand us on a personal level like never before. This, of course, included understanding the differences between us as well.
Having lived in Japan for several years, obtained my master's degree, and working in Japanese, I undertook it as a mission to continue that curiosity first kindled in my heart as a child. I traveled across the country, talking to locals, and have come to understand their keen interest in initiatives that attract Arab travelers to areas beyond the popular Tokyo, Kyoto, and Osaka. A part of such ambitions is tied to “anime tourism”, or the act of visiting real-life locations in Japan inspired by anime. In the Tottori prefecture south of Tokyo, I found myself in Conan Town, an entire district dedicated to the famous detective, a key figure in the Arab-Japanese connection. There, the staff prepared a halal version in the Conan Cafe, showcasing their hospitality to Muslim travelers who visited to relive their childhood. Collaborations with Lady Oscar – one of the defining icons for the Arab children of the 80s and 90s – continue to this day. In one of Japan’s southernmost cities of Kitakyushu, a manga museum was built to commemorate Japanese comics, featuring exhibits that explore the evolution of this media form across time. A part of said history was the Arabic edition of Captain Majid, as the museum places Arab media on its shelves, highlighting the impact of animation in bridging both cultures. Just as we have come to love and understand Japanese culture, they, too, have reciprocally welcomed us as travelers and friends.
While Rasha Rizk’s voice and the captivating lyrics penned by Tarek Alarabi Tourgane invited us to a world of fantasy in our childhood, Japan welcomes us to step beyond that and into the real world. Little did we know as children that you could visit Maruko’s house in the Shizuoka prefecture, home of Mount Fuji. Speaking to Arabs of all ages at events across the Middle East, many have expressed their interest in visiting such anime-based locations in Japan, creating a new era of “set-jetting” for the purpose of recreating a childhood we collectively cherish.
It is now my mission to further fortify this bridge built through the efforts of my Arab predecessors. Pioneers like Nicolas Abu Samah, who first introduced anime dubbing, A Alnasir Alzayer, who harmonized beloved tunes like Adnan wa Lina and Sinan, as well as the “Queen of Dubbing” Suad Jawad, who breathed life into many characters like Flona – all have shaped my childhood and future in ways I never could have imagined. I hope to carry the torch passed on by their efforts and honor the path they laid by both carrying their messages and creating new meaning for this precious connection between MENA and Japan.
You can find more information about Arab-Japanese anime tourism on the following website: http://safiranime.com
