In April 1996 the BBC's Arabic television service collapsed. It had been a joint venture with the Saudi-owned Orbit group, and it ended in a dispute over editorial independence — a Panorama film about Saudi justice, and coverage of a Saudi dissident, that the partner would not carry. Around 250 journalists were suddenly out of work, most of them trained to a British broadcast standard, most of them Arab, and all of them now available.
Six months later, a great many of them were in Doha.
Qatar had a new emir. Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani had taken power in June 1995 and, by most accounts, wanted a news operation running within half a year. The state put up roughly half a billion Qatari riyals — about 137 million US dollars — to carry the channel through its first five years, after which it was expected to pay for itself. It never quite did. That is one of the enduring arguments about Al Jazeera, and it has never been resolved.
What is not in dispute is what happened on air. On 1 November 1996, Al Jazeera Satellite Channel went out for six hours a day into a region where television news had, without meaningful exception, been an instrument of the state. Beneath the logo ran four words that turned out to be a business model: the opinion, and the other opinion.
What follows is the thirty years that came after — the launches and the firsts, and also the bureaus that were bombed, the staff who were jailed, the network that was shut down in one country and demanded closed in four others, and the correspondents who did not come home. All of it is one story. It is not possible to tell the first half honestly without the second.