Is it true that we are unable to appreciate the value of the written document and that we are so entrenched in an oral culture that we accord greater authority to what we hear at any given moment, regardless of its veracity? Events often compel us to ask this question, but rarely do we attempt to answer it, and rarely do we attempt to avert its inherent repercussions on our cognitive abilities, our collective memory, and our awareness of historical facts. The case of the Tiran and Sanafir islands controversy is a glaring and unfortunate instance that compels us to ask this question again. I am stunned by a prevailing logic that holds that title to some geographical area rests not on official documents but rather on some personal points of view. This gives rise to a situation in which some people say that such and such a patch of land belongs to this country and others counter that it belongs to that country, while the media merely relates these conflicting opinions and thinks it has done its job. A media figure who is a friend of mine called me up recently to invite me to appear on his programme to express my opinion on the sensitive question of Tiran and Sanafir. As he said to me, “One camp believes they belong to Saudi Arabia and that Egypt only been administering them in accordance with an agreement with Saudi Arabia, and the other camp believes they belong to Egypt and that to hand them over to Saudi Arabia is an abuse of our national territory.” “Hold on a second,” I said. “Questions regarding sovereignty over territorial areas need to be settled by official documents and historical maps, not through some tug of war between what may be purely personal views.” My friend seemed impressed by my stance, as though had never heard it before. “Great!” he said. “Come on my show and say that.” I responded, “If you agree with what I said, then you need to handle the subject in a different way.” I then suggested that he could have some of his staff members perform their duty as journalists, which is to say to do some investigatory journalism. In this case, this would entail some historical research in the course of which they would consult authentic ancient or contemporary documents. They might also pay a visit to the islands themselves with some cameramen in tow, as most people have no idea what the islands look like and, in fact, many may not have even known the names of these islands before this issue cropped up. I could tell that my friend was listening closely, which encouraged me to add: “I assume that the aim of your programme is to offer the type of journalistic service that the general public has missed. The duty of the press is to inform people of the facts. This is what gives our profession its name.” I continued, “But performing this duty requires research in order to discover and clarify the facts. What good does it do people to hear the opinion of one guest on your programme and then hear a different opinion by another guest when both of them might not be acquainted with the real facts?” At the end of the conversation with the media personality I said that by basing his programme on investigative reporting he would be performing a valuable public service. Moreover, his programme would stand out above others for its respect for the intelligence of its audience and for the professionalism with which it performed the sacred journalistic mission. I later watched the programme in question. It hosted two guests: one was a pro-government politician who held that the two islands belonged to Saudi Arabia; the other was an opposition parliamentary representative who held that the two islands belonged to Egypt. In the end, the programme turned out to be no different than the dozens of others that dealt with the same issue. Viewers learned who was with the government and who was against it. But they learned nothing concrete about the two islands, and they were not given a glimpse of any historical records that might settle the question of their legitimate owner. Afterwards I received an additional shock. I learned that some individuals who do research issues and do consult authentic documents changed their opinions on the basis of their research and came under attack as a result. Dr Hoda Abdel Nasser initially held that the two islands were Egyptian on the basis of Cairo's position and President Gamal Abdel-Nasser's speeches during the 1967 war, when Egypt moved to assert its control over the Straits of Tiran, Israel's only gateway to the Red Sea. However, when she then consulted historical records and discovered otherwise, she immediately acknowledged this and publicly stated that documents in the possession of Abdel-Nasser proved that the islands belong to Saudi Arabia. Sadly, instead of praising her scholastic integrity, many chastised her for changing her stance, as though siding with the truth was not a virtue. The Egyptian Centre for Public Opinion Research (Baseera) recently released the results of a survey that indicated that 30 per cent of those polled believe that the two islands are Egyptian, 23 per cent believe that they are Saudi, and the rest did not know. What this tells us is that despite of the fact that the Egyptian press and media have been discussing nothing else since the Saudi king's visit to Egypt last month, half the Egyptian people (47 per cent) have seen no information to enable them to judge. If half our people do not know what is true or not with regard to a question of such importance, whose fault is it? My immediate inclination is to point to the government. With such crucial national issues people cannot to be expected to wake up one day to learn that two islands that they had thought were Egyptian were going to be turned over to Saudi Arabia. This is not to suggest that the government might have averted a crisis by announcing the transfer at an earlier date, before the Saudi monarch arrived. A mere announcement, whenever it occurred, would have triggered the same commotion we see today. Rather, what the government should have done is to include public opinion at every stage of the issue, since Saudi Arabia first asked for the islands back, and to inform the public of the historical circumstances that led to Egyptian control over the islands. The Egyptian government could also have made an agreement with Saudi Arabia to create a joint committee that would include some international legal scholars to study the relevant official documents and maps. Then, only after the committee released its findings, the government would have issued a formal announcement of the return of the islands to Saudi Arabia during a prearranged visit by the Saudi monarch. Such an approach would have met the conditions of transparency that are required in such crucial national issues in particular. It would have laid out the facts to public opinion in Egypt, Saudi Arabia and the rest of the world. It would have set an example for how to respect the opinion of the people, and their right to know and to participate in decision-making processes. We might have even set a model for other Arab countries on how best to handle disputed territories, in contrast to invasions, attempts to impose a status quo and actions that could at best intensify tensions between fellow Arab nations and, at worst, escalate into war. Nevertheless, we still need to add here that the government's mistake could have easily been remedied if the media had performed its job, which is to keep the people informed. This means presenting them with facts based on thorough research and documentation rather than on the views and opinions of talk show guests.
