TV meets the madding crowd

Are the new breed of political talk shows on Egyptian television opening up a space for freedom of expression, asks Amina Elbendary
Have you watched prime time TV lately?
A not-so-quiet revolution is taking place on Arab -- including Egyptian -- television channels. Turn on your set any weekday evening and instead of the usual film or show you will more often than not be greeted with angry faces shouting daring remarks on screen. If the reader is typically male then he will probably also be a channel surfing addict and is likely to get the added benefit of more than one choice of the daring political programmes that seem to be so much in vogue these days.
Most of these programmes are aired on Arab satellite channels, the majority of which are state- owned anyway. The programming trend started with smaller channels and smaller Gulf states only to spread to the centre where Egyptian television channels -- terrestrial as well as satellite -- have joined the fray.
Initial reactions to the launch of such programmes on satellite channels were overly optimistic. These channels were seen as opening up a new space for Arab public opinion. They were hailed as a liberating force in a domain -- the media -- long-controlled by statist regimes. They also were in the vanguard of introducing that buzzword, infotainment, to Arab television.
Satellite channels soon became the centres of controversies, however, when they began airing programmes that were considered critical of other states and regimes. The main target of criticism, particularly in Egypt but also in Kuwait, has been the Aljazeera Satellite Channel, broadcast from Qatar. And then the competition began. Supporters of a certain debate would deride their opponents on one channel after another. And the channels themselves have begun competing with each other over who will deal with the hottest topics and get the most famous guests; who will raise the most controversial issues with more daring and ultimately who will shout loudest. For television is also about entertainment, and viewers, it seems, like their entertainment loud.
Recently, and with added intensity since the outbreak of the second Intifada, Egyptian local channels have also joined the frenzy with programmes like Ra'is Al-Tahrir (Editor-in-Chief), Al-Khatt Al-Ahmar (Red Line), Fi'l Umq (In Depth), Al-Ra'y Al-Thalith (The Third Opinion), Da'irat Al-Hiwar (Roundtable), Wara' Al-Ahdath (Behind the Scenes), Bidoun Riqaba (Without Censorship) to name the best known.
To many observers this plethora of political programming on prime time Egyptian TV seems a direct response to what is perceived as the threat from competing Arab satellite channels. Since these channels do not shy away from discussing other countries' -- including Egypt's -- domestic and foreign policy issues, then criticism might as well start at home, on Egyptian channels. In fact on the Sunday episode of the live talk show Maspero, some of the top moderators of Channel One (Egypt's main national channel) argued that instead of letting other countries discuss "our problems" we have decided to do it ourselves on our home turf. Arab satellite channels and their producers and moderators had ulterior motives in discussing Egyptian issues and controversies, they implied. Egypt is "always targeted," a lament oft repeated in the national media and press. Indeed, Egyptian hegemony in general is at once courted and resented by Arabs in different political fields; media competition is just one manifestation of this love-hate relationship. The very phrase used to describe Egypt's position and role within the Arab family, "The Big Sister," simultaneously carries connotations of care, support, admiration as well as hegemony and patronisation and, therefore necessarily, resentment.
In taking the initiative out of foreign hands, Egyptian television producers are dealing with topics that seem hot and daring, ranging from every conceivable angle to the Arab-Israeli conflict, to electoral politics, to female genital mutilation, to religious discrimination, unemployment, urfi marriage, dual citizenship, inter-marriage with Israelis and gender discrimination. Recently, when the playwright Ali Salem was dismissed from the Writers Union he was interviewed on TV -- with an opponent, screenwriter Osama Anwar Okasha -- discussing just what was meant by "normalisation" with Israel, and peace efforts. They are not shying away from discussing any controversial issue. Or so it might seem. At least, that is how the arguments seem to go.
But are viewers tuning in?
An extremely random gauge of public opinion (in the absence of those elusive ratings highly esteemed by the Western media) seems to suggest that the average viewer takes these attempts with a handful of salt.
"They're just competing with the fada'iyat (Arab satellite channels)," one is often told with a twitch and a wry smile. "There are limits to what they can say on our TV," a young man recently told me. "I still prefer to watch the Arab channels," says another. The most popular of these programmes, however, and the one that is perhaps taken most seriously, is Hamdi Qandil's Ra'is Al-Tahrir (Editor-in-Chief).
"Did you hear what Hamdi Qandil said last night?" is one of the more common morning after questions. Ostensibly a weekly review of the Arab press, Qandil often uses the show as a vehicle to express his opinion -- and what he argues is the popular sentiment -- concerning the issues of the day. And this he does in histrionic style, his commentary replete with daring questions and remarks. Viewers are fascinated by his apparent lack of inhibition. Qandil's main subject, however, is Israeli occupation and aggression.
In an interview with Al-Ahram Weekly Qandil argued that while the sudden proliferation of political talk shows on Egyptian television must seem like an overdose it is not necessarily simply a reaction to Arab satellites. These satellite channels have, he conceded, created a degree of competitiveness that is healthy. And the recent attempts by Egyptian TV are, he argued, a sign that television officials have realised that their viewers are also interested in politics and serious programmes and not just in light entertainment. There are, he argues, other centres of attractions outside their own domain. And these centres of attraction have upped the ante, forcing terrestrial television to deal with issues that were until very recently considered taboos, and to do so in such a manner as to demand a degree of credibility.
But many viewers remain sceptical. For one, the tenor of Egyptian television has traditionally been positively sedate, certainly when compared with the sensationalist take of the relatively new satellite channels. A hangover of this history is that even the most heated debates on the new programmes retain a degree of respect, something of which television officials are inordinantly proud. Yet this aura of respect, it can be argued, serves simply to reinforce the belief among viewers that there are lines that are not to be crossed.
On one Maspero episode veteran presenter Farida El- Zummor, whose talk show Kilmat Haqq (A Word of Truth) discusses controversial social issues, vehemently denied the existence of any type of censorship on Egyptian television. "There are no censors," she insisted. "My show is aired live and... I'm allowed to discuss controversial issues like female circumcision which wouldn't be possible had there been censorship." Hala Abu Allam, one of the presenters of the daily morning breakfast show Sabah Al-Kheir Ya Misr (Good Morning Egypt) agreed. In fact all the presenters invited were adamant in their denial of censorship. But it remains that very few shows are aired live. And political shows, in particular, tend to be recorded before their airing, unlike the case of many satellite counterparts.
Younger generations of media activists are often told by their superiors and elders that they have no idea of what censorship is really like. For them censorship connotes the existence of an official -- invariably a man -- who either sat in a haloed corner at the central desk or who had a spacious office of his own and whose function was to approve their work and cut whatever was deemed inappropriate or unacceptable. And this type of censorship still exists, particularly in the case of film. But there are other forms of censorship, of course, despite the denials of the Maspero crowd. It is, of course, a fact that the domain of free speech and expression in Egypt has expanded over the last couple of decades. In fact Qandil feels an improvement even compared with 1998 when his show was introduced. "I try to make the best out of the available environment of freedom," he said, "to express views current on the Egyptian street... and the degree of freedom I am allowed right now is comfortable."
But it is also a fact that many people feel a glass ceiling remains delineating what can be said and how it is to be said. This type of censorship is often self-imposed, by the writers and presenters and by their editors and managers. There are unwritten rules that are consistently upheld and only seldom broken. "However, as along as there remains a censor, we will continue to ask for more [freedom of expression]," says Qandil.
And indeed this push -- even demand -- for more freedom of expression must also be an impetus behind the latest frenzy on TV. Officials must have realised the agitation of public opinion, especially in light of changing social and economic conditions and the shocking developments taking place in occupied Palestine. The opening up of air space on television is perhaps an attempt to vent some of that pent-up steam since simply ignoring the issues will not, it is increasingly recognised, make them go away.
But what next? Is this new frenzy simply that, a vent for public opinion that in fact works to reaffirm the status quo? Or is public opinion being mobilised for action? When Hamdi Qandil repeatedly airs footage of Israeli brutality during his show, how is the public expected to react?
Qandil retorts with a question: "How are news shows expected to react to events such as the Intifada? Are we supposed to keep silent?" These shows have a mandate to report the news, he adds, but also "I personally call on my show for actively supporting the Intifada and boycotting Israeli goods."
And what about the other shows? Presenters invited to the Maspero episode insisted that it was not the media's job to solve issues like unemployment and citizenship rights for children of Egyptian mothers, they simply discuss the various viewpoints and highlight the issues. Other shows seem to target decision-makers, as Taha Abdel-Alim said of his show Da'irat Al-Hiwar.
Even if viewer scepticism is still high, even if the new air of liberty on Egyptian television is only a way to relieve some of the public anger and agitation, it has nonetheless raised the ceiling of freedom of expression in Egypt -- and for that we cannot but be thankful. What the public does with its newly found liberty is, ultimately, the public's call.
Recommend this page
Related stories:
Too hot to handle 27 May - 2 June 1999
Up in the sky 27 May - 2 June 1999
© Copyright Al-Ahram Weekly. All rights reserved
Send a letter to the Editor