Wrestling is rooted in the presentation of stereotypes. It's its narrative tool à vie. The very presentation of wrestling as legitimate, known as kayfabe, is, in itself, the presentation of a stereotype, the stereotype of what a competitive bout in the theatrical world of professional wrestling should look like. Even the idea of what a wrestler should look like is a stereotype. But while wrestling itself is a presentation of a stereotype of sorts, the company that is the standard bearer for the industry as the largest global producer of wrestling content, World Wrestling Entertainment, has, throughout its history, presented some particularly onerous stereotypes that serve to marginalize those that the stereotypes often represent.

"The most common form of media representation is stereotyping. Stereotypes are labels that categorize people largely in negative terms, and that can be applied to whole social or cultural groups. Some stereotypes, like those of Muslims as bloodthirsty and licentious, evolve over time. Some gain quick currency because of their use in the media and the globalized nature of the contemporary world, for example the portrayal of young professionals in the Stock Exchange as reckless, spendthrift Yuppies." - 

Sardar, Introducing media studies (2000)

    In the 1980s, Hossein Khosrow Ali Vaziri, an Olympic wrestler who fled his native Iran and emigrated to America, made his career as a heel, or villain, wrestler proclaiming, "Iran, number one. America, hack-phooey," before spitting on the ground in disgust. The act immediately raised the ire of audiences around the country. However, I can't imagine many Iranian-Americans found themselves represented in the portrayal of the character. 

    Accompanied by an Iranian flag and, for a time in the 1980s, his tag team partner, the equally reviled, evil Russian, seemingly conjured up by President Ronald Reagan's famous "evil empire" comment, Nikolai Volkoff (who, ironically, was actually Lithuanian and detested the Soviet Union). The act also included the legendary "Classy" Fred Blassie, in his final years in the business as a manager, mirroring Sheik, wearing a ghutra, also known as a keffiyeh, when accompanying Sheik and Volkoff to ringside. Sheik also wore wrestling boots with a mysterious, "foreign" curled hook on his toe that he'd "load" by kicking the tip of his shoe against the mat before burying it into his opponent's midsection. In the wake of the Iran hostage crisis, the character met the moment perfectly, an ideal target for American's fear and xenophobia. Sheik wasn't the first to present himself in the trope of "foreign menace,' but he certainly defined himself and cemented his place in wrestling history as a "generational talent" in the role.

    This wouldn't be the last time the WWE would play with Middle Eastern identity and America's xenophobia. In 1991, in the midst of America's war in the Gulf to liberate Kuwait City from Iraqi invasion, the iconic American hero, another stereotype, Sgt. Slaughter was portrayed by Robert Remus as a Marine drill sergeant. At varying points throughout his career swapping roles, Remus spent the years before 1991 as a babyface, or the "good guy," trading off the success and popularity of the cartoon series G.I. Joe, in which the Sgt. Slaughter's character was a featured hero. As wrestling is often referred to as a "cartoon world," the crossover made perfect sense. 

    Slaughter would shock the world, turning heel in 1990, announcing his support for the then-dictator of Iraq, Saddam Hussein, and his crusade in the Middle East. Officially labeled an "Iraqi sympathizer," Slaughter would don the shorthand stereotype character markers that would recast him as a heel: the ghutra, an Iraqi flag, and even the curled-toe boots presented to him as a "gift" from Hussein. His costume evolved from that stereotypical of a military drill instructor: camouflage-patterned pants, a military-style campaign hat, combat boots, etc., to a more military uniform, beige in color and adorned with an Iraqi flag and medals hanging beneath it.

       To really put the act over the top and drive the message home, he was also paired with a manager, General Adnan, portrayed by Adnan Al-Kaissie, a wrestler who was born in Iraq and, like the Iron Sheik, also emigrated to the United States in the 1960s. He'd spent much of the 1970s as Billy White Wolf, a Native American, complete with stereotypical feathered warbonnet, despite his Iraqi ancestry. As General Adnan, he'd often yell at the audience in Arabic as if dispatching a communique from Hussein himself. (The son of an imam, Al-Kaissie was from a fairly distinguished Iraqi family and was even purported to have legitimately attended high school with Hussein.) Even the Iron Sheik was added to the act, repackaged as Col. Mustafa. It's important to remember that all of this restyling was specifically intended to illicit "heat," or a negative reaction, from the audience. The point was this guy was a turncoat and not a good guy. You should boo him. But what does it say when the stereotypes we apply to heel characters are elements of a person's culture or heritage? And what happens when someone uses these stereotypes to try and define all people of a culture?

Sgt. Slaughter leads his "Triangle of Terror," with General Adnan and Colonel Mustafa, Photo: WWE

    In the way that everything old is new again, and everything comes in cycles, in the wake of 9/11 and with tensions running high as America waged wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, the WWE revisited the foreign menace trope again in 2004. In his introductory promo, Muhammad Hassan, wearing a simple suit and tie (a proverbial "sheep in wolf's clothing" when compared to Sheik and Slaughter in their decidedly more aggressive presentations), and seconded by his manager, Daivari, spoke of the racial discrimination and profiling he'd faced as an Arab-American since 9/11, despite being portrayed by Marc Copani, an Italian-American. (It was never made clear from which Arab country Hassan could trace his roots.)

    Daivari was portrayed by Shawn Daivari, an Iranian-American who would follow Hassan's English promos, excoriating the audience about their racism and discrimination, repeating every line after him in Farsi, with the intention of raising the ire of a sensitive American audience. While the repetition was meant to annoy the audience, they certainly were more annoyed with being called out on their racism while at the same time acting in accordance with it, booing Daivari largely for speaking a foreign language. Even Hassan's entrance music, opening with a traditional mawwal, signaled his arrival and set off a chorus of boos from the audience with its opening chords.

    In one promo on Raw, Hassan inflated the results of a Cornell study, noting, "A recent poll done at Cornell University, a prestigious, American, Ivy League institute, shows that at least half of all Americans believe that all Arab-Americans should have their civil liberties limited." While he was correct about a disheartening number of Americans sharing that sentiment, 44% according to the Cornell poll to which he was referring, he misrepresented the number somewhat, saying it was "at least half" the respondents. So confident was he in his assertion, and perhaps more confident that no one would follow his invitation, he shared the web address to Cornell University's news page so fans sitting at home could look it up for themselves. Much like today's pundits and cable news provocateurs, it's not expected the viewer will not challenge the "facts" they spew forth, certainly not enough to confirm or contradict said facts.

    While the racial profiling and discrimination he raged against was very real, the presentation was meant to engender neither support nor sympathy from the audience, but, instead, derision and contempt, punctuated during Hassan's debut on WWE Monday Night Raw, in which he interrupted beloved hero Mick Foley while Foley spoke of a recent visit to the Pentagon and serving as a spokesperson for the Department of Defense's "America Supports You" campaign in support of the troops serving in Iraq and Afghanistan. Hassan and Foley went back and forth before the live crowd in Birmingham, Alabama. The best heels often present a string of truth in their vitriol. It's what makes them so insidious. "Well... maybe he's right?" And, in many ways, Hassan was right. In many ways, he still is.  

    No, this Arab-American came with a message, donning a suit and tie befitting the high school principal Copani would eventually become after leaving wrestling. However, the portrayal became controversial after an altercation with The Undertaker, in which Hassan would direct a group of masked men, styled to suggest they were somehow attached to a terrorist cell, to attack the Undertaker on an episode of WWE SmackDown, choking him unconscious with piano wire, a move that received backlash from UPN, the network that aired the broadcast, In response to the controversy, WWE decided to write off the Muhammad Hassan character, and Copani eventually left the company. The character's portrayal continues to spark discussions on the boundary between entertainment and real-world sensitivities in professional wrestling.

Muhammad Hassan's "terrorists" attack the Undertaker. Video: WWE