Edited from the void

Edited from the void
The slew of cultural magazines crowding newsstands and bookstores offers a deceptive picture of Egypt's publishing scene. Rania Khallaf follows the plight of the Egyptian literary magazine
Asked about the scope of Egypt's cultural publishing scene, Egypt's literary elite are unmistakably dour. Young novelist Yasser Abdel-Latif denounces all literary magazines as "repetitive," while his contemporary, Ibrahim Farghali, dismisses the magazines littering newsstands as predominantly unstable -- "here one day and gone a few months later."
The publishing of cultural magazines, particularly literary ones, has begun to seem like mission impossible. Limited circulation and scarce financial support are often compounded by a nebulous editorial policy. Even so, the obstacles facing would-be literati are nothing new, as such publications have always struggled to survive. Since the birth in the late 19th century of the first Egyptian cultural magazine Rawdat El-Madaress, edited by Refa'a Raf'ei El-Tahtawi, the history of Egypt's literary publications is littered with closures and controversy. The list of magazines that have been forced to close over the years is simply too long to get in to.
"There is no way to separate cultural magazines from the culture in which they come into being," novelist Gamal El-Ghitani, who is also the chief editor of the weekly literary magazine, Akhbar El-Adab, told Al-Ahram Weekly. El-Ghitani's comments were echoed by other writers, scholars and critics, who insist that the deterioration of literary magazines in Egypt is a reflection of the breakdown of "serious culture." "Consumer culture prevails in our society, which hardly encourages the publishing of cultural magazines," suggests El-Ghitani. "What dominates society today is the culture of propaganda -- a culture of entertainment. This does not foster a serious cultural atmosphere."
The number of regular cultural magazines in Egypt today is indeed limited. They include: Al-Helal, a monthly magazine published by the Dar Al-Helal publishing house, Akhbar El-Adab (Literary News), a weekly newspaper published by the daily Al- Akhbar newspaper, and the monthlies Ibda' and Al-Moheet Al- Thakafi, and the quarterly Fusuul (Seasons) all published by the Ministry of Culture, which also puts out the resurrected weekly Al-Qahira. Further, there is the monthly Adab wa Naqd (Literature and Criticism), published by the left-leaning Tagammu Party, and two monthly independent magazines: Weghat Nazar (Points of View) and Sotour (Lines).
Though the number seems adequate, insiders maintain that quality has certainly been compromised. "The number of magazines doesn't reflect the cultural weight of Egypt in the Arab world," insists Awatef Abdel-Rahman, professor of journalism at the Faculty of Mass Communication, Cairo University.
With the British occupation of Egypt in 1882, literary magazines took on a political role, serving as forums for resistance. Thirteen magazines were to develop at this time, such as Yasoub El-Teb, edited by Clot Bek, a French physician who had settled in Cairo. All suffered financial problems and were constantly liable to closure by the occupation forces, but they reflected a vibrant intellectual community and paved the ground for the further development of the genre after the 1919 revolution.
Literary magazines, such as Al-Majala Al-Jadida (The New Magazine) edited by prominent leftist writer and publicist Salama Moussa provided a much-used medium for the dissemination of new thinking as well as for political activism for nearly three decades after 1919. The development of political life equally enhanced the importance of cultural magazines. Cairo University's Abdel-Rahman explains that at the time, powerful political party dailies such as Kawkab El-Sharq (Planet of the East), El-Balagh and Al-Siyassa, were all keen to publish high-quality weekly cultural supplements.
During the 1930s, prominent writers and poets shouldered the responsibility of publishing literary magazines, such as Al- Thakafa (Culture), edited by writer Mohamed Farid Abu Hadeed, Al-Resala (The Message) by educationalist Ahmed Hassan El- Zayat, and Al-Majala (The Magazine), edited by writer Yehia Haqqi. From 1945 to 1948, Al-Kateb El-Masri (The Egyptian Writer) was edited by then Minister of Education Taha Hussein. "The democratic atmosphere at that time allowed expanding readership among ordinary people," notes Abdel-Rahman.
In 1954, political parties were abolished, bringing to a halt the publication of their newspapers and magazines. The 1950s saw a tighter grip on press freedoms in general and in 1960, all magazines and newspapers were brought under direct state control. But literary magazines continued to flourish. Al-Kateb (The Writer) and Al-Fikr Al-Mu'asser (Contemporary Thought) are described by Al-Qahira Editor-in-Chief Salah Eissa as shining examples of literary reviews at that time.
Asked about the apparent paradox, Abdel-Rahman recalls that most of the magazines developed during that time were edited by prominent intellectuals, such as Fouad Zakariya and Zaki Naguib Mahmoud, who were consecutively chief editors of Al-Fikr Al- Mu'asser. It also helped that these publications were now receiving a government subsidy.
After 1967, President Gamal Abdel-Nasser extended censorship rules to literary magazines, theatre and cinema productions -- constraints that were only removed in 1974. But in the late 1960s and early 1970s came the monthly magazine Al-Talia'a" (The Vanguard) published by Al-Ahram. "It was tailored to leftist writers who had recently been released from prison," says prominent critic Farouk Abdel-Qader, who was the editor of its literary supplement. Abdel-Qader concedes that the margin of freedom he enjoyed as an editor was "fairly satisfactory."
The real downturn in intellectual magazines came in the 1970s, when sociopolitical values truly began to shift. Journalism professor Abdel-Rahman cites the "open-door policy and re- institution of political parties in name, not in political influence," as two major factors behind the deterioration of cultural magazines. Abdel-Qader went further, describing this period as one that witnessed "the slaughter of cultural magazines."
"The influence of the state over cultural affairs is one of the serious problems that has always accompanied the publishing of intellectual magazines in Egypt," Abdel-Qader added. After 1974, the progressive 1960s magazines were shut down and new magazines appeared. According to Abdel-Qader these were by and large "weak", both form and content.
No reliable statistics concerning the circulation of cultural magazines are available, but the figure is small, especially when compared to Egypt's population: over 60 million people. For publishers of magazines, print runs of 5,000 are considered huge. "Because of the low circulation and low advertising income, these type of magazines have typically short lives," explains novelist Gamal El-Ghitani. The only exception to this rule is Akhbar El-Adab, which enjoys a circulation of close to 30,000 copies per week, says the magazine's Editor-in-Chief El-Ghitani. But El- Ghitani admits that getting an advertisement even for his paper is a difficult mission. "I tried to convince some prominent businessmen and advertisers to cooperate with us, but it was in vain."
Censorship is another key obstacle to successful publication. Government-supported magazines such as Ibda' can easily be confiscated if they are found to disturb moral or religious sensitivities. Most magazines, especially independent ones, began censoring themselves after the Ministry of Culture banned three novels allegedly containing "explicitly indecent material," critic Mustafa El-Dab'aa explained to the Weekly.
Many magazines published by the Ministry of Culture that struggled through the 1980s and 1990s finally expired, for example Fosoul and the original version of Al-Qahira. Even Ibda', with its circulation of 3,000, is expected to announce its final closure within months.
Launched in 1984, Ibda' suspended publication last October. During the year 2001, only three issues were published and its final demise is believed to be imminent. Prominent poet Ahmed Abdel-Motie Hegazie, who is is editor-in-chief of the magazine, says that Ibda' has played "a distinguished role" since the beginning of the 1990s. "When I started to shoulder the responsibility of the magazine in 1991, the circulation number was only 1,000 copies," says Hegazi. "The figure increased over the years to reach 7,000 copies per month," he added. However, the General Authority for Books decided in 1994 to decrease the number of printed copies to only 3,000 copies, on grounds that the magazine loses money.
"The government only offers the magazine LE10,000 -- a small amount when compared to the cultural role [the magazine] plays in society and the huge budget given to the General Organisation for Books (GOB)," notes Hegazi, adding that Ibda' played a significant role in challenging religious fundamentalist discourse. "The workers at the GOB's printing house were one example of the factors we had to battle against," recalls Hegazi, referring to an incident when the workers refused to print the magazine when it carried a painting of a nude by Mahmoud Said. "I thought of resigning many times, but I prefer to continue struggling," Hegazi added.
"The actual reason behind the suspension of the magazine is the printing process, which is being jammed by publishing books," argues Hegazi, who maintains that one industry should not squeeze out the other.
The weekly Al-Qahira, which was relaunched two years ago as the heir to the defunct Al-Qahira monthly, is considered by many critics to be a mouthpiece for the Minister of Culture. There is also a strong feeling among writers that the paper is a "poor example of an official cultural magazine." But Al-Qahira Editor-in-Chief Salah Eissa notes that the paper does not receive any financial support from the ministry, except for advertisements. "We play a definite role in enhancing the culture in our society," he added.
The 1990s saw the birth of a number of new independent cultural magazines established by young poets and writers. The drive is there, but the situation remains grim, with so many publishers announcing the "deaths" of their magazines. Al-Osour Al-Jadida (The New Ages), a monthly magazine edited by Mahdi Mustafa, managed to produce 19 issues before giving up the cause. Other periodicals such as Horreya (Freedom), edited by journalist Abla El-Rouaini, produced only two issues before halting publication. Other independent magazines edited by young writers such as Al- Ketaba Al-Ukhra (The Other Writing) and Amkena (Places) are still struggling.
Literary critic Abdel-Qader is disdainful of the new crop of publications, dimissing them as having no actual impact on society. "They are a mere expression of depression," he noted, adding that unless they are financially supported from a strong civil organisation, "they will remain powerless."
But novelist Ibrahim Farghali, a representative of the "new generation," says that these magazines provide virtually the only outlets for publication. "The main problem facing these magazines is the circulation process," says Farghali. "There should be cooperation between big bookstores and the publishers of these magazines."
Sotour, is an independent cultural monthly magazine currently facing extinction. Karim Abdel-Salam, Sotour's managing director, told the Weekly that the magazine is treated as a foreign entity. "We had to get the magazine's licence from London, as it would have taken too long to get it from Egypt. Hence, we are forced to print in the Free Zone in Nasr City, where we pay in dollars, and suffer from censorship and customs fees," says Abdel- Salam. "Under the guise of combating pornography, customs officials must review the magazine every time a new issue comes in," he added.
Abdel-Salam, who previously worked for Al-Qahira, underlines that working for an independent magazine is still far more flexible. State-owned magazines suffer from bureaucracy and authoritarian control by their chief editors, he said. Independent literary magazines, Abdel-Salam argues, should be supported by the Cultural Development Fund, an affiliate of the Ministry of Culture. "They could help us by purchasing at least 300 copies of each independent magazine," he suggests.
Considered to be tailored to the cultural elite and costing a pricey LE10 per copy, Weghat Nazar stands unique among independent cultural magazines. "The price is very reasonable if you consider the size [82-pages] of the magazine and the quality of the paper. The content is what counts here," insists Ayman El- Sayyad, managing director of the magazine. Weghat Nazar is especially fortunate in having renowned political analyst Mohamed Hassanein Heikal as a regular contributer. "We launched the magazine three years ago with the aim of enhancing the culture of debate. We respect the diversity of opinions and are keen to reflect all cultural trends in our magazine," says El-Sayyad.
Adab wa Naqd was launched in 1984 and is viewed by the Tagaamu as "the party's tool of social change," Farida El- Naqash, editor-in-chief of the magazine, told the Weekly. Since its establishment, the magazine has launched numerous campaigns in defence of the freedom of expression and creativity. "We were severely attacked in mosques and religious gatherings when we published an article about the short story writer Mohamed Abdel-Salam El-Emari, who in one of his story's criticised the practise of public beheadings of Saudi convicts."
But with the shrinking role played by the Tagammu Party on the political scene, its cultural voice, represented in the magazine, has become leftists' only available avenue, the magazine's supporters argue. But some critics claim that even the cultural role played by the party has weakened. "I used to buy the magazine regularly for years, but I stopped recently because I find it repetitive," said Farghali.
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