Ahmed Ahmed says that in the months following 9/11, he couldn't fly anywhere. "They wouldn't even let me fly a kite," he said. His double barrelled name, the same as one of the world's most wanted terrorists, got him routinely detained at airports and bumped off flights.

Ahmed turned the experience of racial profiling on its head — making it a part of his comedy routine. And he was on his way to becoming the most dangerously funny man on the planet.
Born in Helwan, Egypt, Ahmed's family emigrated to the US when he was a month old.

His father was a mechanic who owned a gas station. Growing up in the southern Californian town of Riverside, he says he had a pretty nice and normal childhood — aside from the fact that he always had to explain his roots.

He says they were like the Addams Family, the macabre cartoon characters who are totally unaware that other people find them bizarre. "The smells of frying cumin and garlic were always spilling out of our house, and our neighbours would look over the fence to see what was going on."

"I was always the class clown. When I was 9 or 10, my American friends walked in when my parents were praying. They asked me, "What are they looking for?
"When I was growing up, there weren't many Egyptian families. When you met another Arab family, there was much happiness, like we had been looking for each other all of our lives. It became a sort of natural instinct to look out for someone similar.

When I was younger, I couldn't tell the difference between Indians, Iranians and Arabs — it was enough that their skin was brown. So we all pulled together and had a brown table in the school cafeteria."

The search for a voice

In elementary school, being Arab was not really an issue. He recalls getting threatening phone calls during the Iranian hostage crisis in 1981, telling them to go back to their own country. "I'd tell them, ‘We're Egyptian you idiot, you'd better do your homework!'"

Ahmed moved to Hollywood when he was 19 to pursue a career as an actor. He attended The American Academy of Dramatic Arts for one year and studied with various acting coaches.

He was offered the stereotypical roles of an oil shaikh or Arab prince. "I decided I wanted a voice, but also wanted to put up a positive image of Arab-Americans."

He decided to try stand up comedy. "As a comedian you have the ability to change people's minds through humour."

Before 9/11, his material was mainstream. But on 10/11, Ahmed woke up like Arabs all over the USA and discovered his world had changed. His new material came from his experiences as an Arab-American: with plenty of jokes about racial profiling, terrorism and the Middle East.

Along with other fellow Arab-American comics, Aaron Kader, Maz Jobrani and Dean Obeidallah, he went on the Axis of Evil Comedy Tour ("We just need a North Korean comic and we will be complete," he deadpans).
Seven years later, much has changed.

For a change, airport security people now recognise him, having seen Ahmed on US TV channel Comedy Central. "But they still check me. We still have a lot of racial profiling going on. Who knows what the next presidential stint will allow us to do — it's a tricky time to be Middle Eastern in the US. There's still a lot of misunderstanding and hatred. The US is going through a presidential campaign, switching leadership, the economy is falling apart — that should provide a lot of material for my comedy. Although I try to stay away from political humour — I have enough going against me already."

The 38-year-old Ahmed was in Dubai to promote his new DVD Axis of Evil. He has also started a company, Comedy Arabia, to champion upcoming comedians in the Arab world.

"Comedy in the Middle East is brand new. You cannot talk about sex, religion, drugs or politics. I find self deprecating humour is the best. Our tour started in November last year. There's been a big comedy movement and I am glad to be a part of it, at the forefront."