Professional ethics and public education, not government oppression, is the answer to lurid satellite television broadcasting, writes Ayman El-Amir* Arab regimes felt so nervous about the proliferation of satellite television channels and their growing influence on the population that they ordered their media-controlling officials -- their ministers of information -- to intervene. The ministers met in Cairo recently for two days and adopted a wide-ranging document aimed at regulating satellite channels broadcasting into Arab countries. Some Arab media pundits thought the document smacked of political oppression, but the ministers denied the allegation, stating emphatically that it was intended to protect Arabs against licentious programming that propagated the evils of globalisation. At issue is whether the Arab public, which has embraced the concept of open skies and free choice of programming, could be rolled back to Soviet-era styled censorship. The Principles for Regulating Satellite TV in the Arab World, as the document is called, contains much that both satellite channel operators and their viewers ought to worry about. It spells out a plethora of abstract definitions, restrictions and offences that provide ample grounds for suspending or revoking the licence of some free-reporting channels. It forbids programming that has "adverse effect on social peace, national unity, public order and public morality". It asserts the need for "commitment to Arab moral and religious values, to avoid programming and broadcasting anything that may touch upon the Almighty, religions, the prophets, religious denominations and symbols" in addition to "indecent scenes and sexual discussion". It demands "the protection of Arab identity from the negative effects of globalisation" and to avoid broadcasting "whatever contradicts the orientation of Arab solidarity, commitment to objectivity and honesty, respect for the dignity of states and peoples and their national sovereignty". It also demanded that satellite TV channels stay clear of "causing injury to national and Arab symbols" -- that is, to avoid criticism of Arab rulers. That was enough for Al-Jazeera, the leading and most popular Arab satellite channel based in Qatar, to caution that the charter poses "a risk to the freedom of expression in the Arab world". It added in a reaction statement by its chairman, Waddah Khanfar, that "some of the language contained in the charter is ambiguous and could be interpreted to actively hinder independent reporting from the region". At the ministerial meeting of 12- 13 February both Qatar and Lebanon expressed reservations about the document. Arab information ministers are now busy preparing the enforcement mechanism that would go along with the regulatory charter. At a time when almost all satellite TV channels have agreements with host countries and TV operators to organise their programming into downloadable packages, information ministers are reportedly considering addenda to existing contracts that would include the provisions and penalties of the charter. Penalties would include a wide spectrum of punitive actions ranging from warning the violating channel to revoking its licence. In order to avoid international charges of violation of the right of freedom of expression stipulated in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, ministers tried to wrap the charter in a paper-thin cover of legitimacy by suggesting that its monitoring and enforcement mechanism would be entrusted to a Western-style communication commission within the framework of the Arab League. However, this did not dissuade human rights monitoring organisations, such as the London-based Article 19 organisation, from criticising the document as "a major setback to freedom of the press and freedom of expression in the [Arab] region". To pretend that the contemplated TV regulatory principles are synonymous with Western-style communication commissions is misleading. The Arab charter is an outright system of censorship under the appealing guise of protecting religious and ethical values, or public morality. The US Federal Communications Commission (FCC), established as a regulatory agency under the 1934 Communications Act, is empowered to license, deny or revoke the licence of terrestrial radio and television stations in the US. Its officials are not agents of the US government, it reports only to the US Congress, and its overall guiding policy is to ensure that all broadcast radio and television programming is balanced and is "in the public interest". It does not license major TV networks such as CBS, NBC, ABC, Fox News or CNN. It does not regulate the Internet, DVD production and marketing, publications of any kind, or the movie industry. More importantly, its actions and rulings are based on public participation in the licensing process; licences are often granted, denied or revoked, based on public hearings and a specific set of rules, not on instructions from political higher-ups. Indeed, the FCC is concerned with a wide range of issues such as obscenity, indecency, vile language, personal attack, violent programming, criticism, ridicule and humour concerning individuals, groups and institutions, children's television, degrees of advertising, offensive, false or misleading advertising and complaints about any given station -- all from a public perspective and not as a government-inspired set of rules. In Europe, "television without borders" is the cornerstone of the European Union's audio-visual policy. Individual member states of the EU set their own standards and policies, which mostly focus on libel and prejudiced reporting, but which can also be challenged before relevant institutions of the EU. Public scrutiny and professional ethics remain the most powerful and widely accepted instruments of Western regulation in both print and broadcast journalism. In the famous 2004 case of USA Today (with an estimated circulation of two million copies at the time), the newspaper's top editor Karen Jurgensen resigned as she accepted responsibility for fabricated stories filed by the paper's former foreign correspondent Jack Kelley, who had also resigned earlier, about torture in the US-run Abu Ghraib detention centre in Iraq. While no amount of reporting could have exaggerated the documented scandal of the torture of prisoners in the infamous US military jail, the case became an example of the imperative of professional ethics when journalistic values are violated. The same story found a parallel with a twist in Egypt last year. In March 2007, there was public outcry when the Rotana channel, owned by the Saudi multi-billionaire Al-Walid Bin Talal, aired the first of a six-part series featuring three alleged call girls who had been driven into prostitution by poverty. Although their faces were blurred, the girls -- one housewife, another engaged to be married and a third who was proven under medical examination to be a virgin -- were recognised and threatened by their angry families. Terrified, the girls reported to the police that they were extras at the glitzy Hala Show, hosted by star host Hala Sarhan, and that they were coaxed into "acting the role" just for the show against a payment of $70 each and the promise of employment by the channel. They were assured it was only an act and that their identity would be carefully concealed. They added that they were prompted to rehearse their roles by the host herself, and were corrected when they deviated from the script. As the police began investigating and ordered the surrender of the videotapes, the Hala Show host fled the country, first to Dubai and then to London, and never came back. For some reason, the outcome of the investigation was never revealed, no arrest warrant was issued and the case was not prosecuted, at least not publicly. While the consensus of public opinion was that the story was a fabricated sensationalisation that has been the hallmark of the show, the host claimed everything was true and that the "prostitutes" voluntarily wanted to present their stories. Like in other scandals previously stirred by the host, she presented the case as one of self-denial by a disgraced society that has been embarrassed by her audacious revelation of its shameless hypocrisy. The point is that it was the public's outcry and involvement that unveiled the story, and passed judgement on it. Then the government reacted. There is no question that a good number of unworthy programmes are carried by the 400 plus TV satellite channels beaming down on the public in the Arab world. Some promote fanatic religious edicts, uneducated fatwas, unsubstantiated expertise in the interpretation of dreams, explicit video clips, suggestive language and claims of exorcist powers. These are mostly channels that have no commercial underpinnings and cannot survive for long in an educated media environment. But as a rule of thumb, bans and censorship breed curiosity and popularity. In a region where only one or two countries have freedom of information laws, the public depends largely on rumours, censored information and distrusted government propaganda for facts. There is a credibility gap that the envisaged regime of satellite television regulation and censorship can only widen. The Arab public already suspects that the Principles for the Regulation of Satellite Television in the Arab World are politically motivated. Only a self-generated code of ethics by media professionals in educated societies where credibility is paramount can filter out crude programming by hoax satellite channels. * The writer is former Al-Ahram correspondent in Washington, DC. He also served as director of the United Nations Radio and Television in New York.
