IF THE first casualty of war is truth, the first victor nowadays seems to be satellite television. In the 1991 Gulf war, America's all-news network, CNN, monopolised live coverage from Baghdad. This time Al Jazeera, an Arabic-language current-events channel, has scooped its rivals. By virtue of being the only station with cameras in Taliban territory, Al Jazeera has won millions more viewers, minted cash by selling unique footage, and become a heated battleground in an epic contest for Muslim and Arab opinion.

In the past week, the station has broadcast live images of American air strikes and the destruction they caused, plus an exclusive and fiery statement by Osama bin Laden, who was seen on screen flanked by his top lieutenants, Ayman Zawahiri and Muhammad Atef. To provide the other point of view, it broadcast interviews with the UN's secretary-general and Britain's prime minister. “We are no longer just reporting news,” enthuses Mohamed Jasem al-Ali, the channel's jubilant managing director, “We are making it.”

Al Jazeera's good fortune is not just a matter of luck, although the costly decision made two years ago to open a Kabul office has helped. Since its launch in 1996 the network has established a reputation as the leading independent news source across the Arab world. Compared with the turgid offerings of the state-run channels that dominate Arab air waves, Al Jazeera's mixture of snappy graphics, punchy debates and aggressive reporting and interviewing is eye-catching and controversial.

By presenting raw, rather than predigested content, the channel has undoubtedly contributed to the emotion-charged attitudes that increasingly characterise the Arab public's response to events. This has attracted critics as well as admirers. Arab governments have chafed at being shown in an unfamiliar, often unflattering light. The most recent complaints come from Washington, where officials say there is bias in Al Jazeera's reporting of its campaign against terrorism.

It is true that its reporters are sometimes guilty of over-exuberance. For example, they are inclined to claim that one telegenic student demonstration is representative of a whole country's “street opinion”. Even Al Jazeera's supporters say that its success with audiences has caused a strident and highly politicised tone to creep into some of its programming.

Yet Al Jazeera bridles at suggestions that it should soften its approach. During the Gulf war, notes Mr al-Ali, some westerners dubbed CNN the Voice of Baghdad. Rather than being accused of siding with the Taliban, he says, Al Jazeera should be praised for its determination to present opposing views. Arab media-watchers agree that the channel tries to give equal time to western opinion. Whatever “spin” there may be, they say, is simply due to the cultural attitudes of Al Jazeera's 500 employees, whose diverse national backgrounds make up a reasonable cross-section of middle-class Arab opinion.

Luckily for Al Jazeera, its backers include the ruler of Qatar, the tiny Gulf emirate where the network is based. His government started the channel with a $130m loan, which will soon come due for repayment (given its current run of luck, giving the money back should be a cinch). The network's annual budget is a modest $30m. By contrast, the budget for Egypt's bloated state television tops $1 billion. Which may explain why Egypt's president, touring Al Jazeera's one-storey headquarters, was heard to remark to his minister of information, “All that noise comes from this little matchbox?”