With new regulations on the horizon, will journalistic standards finally be respected in Arab broadcasting, asks Ali Belail* Last month saw British television -- specifically the BBC and Channel 4, the biggest names in British broadcasting -- facing a scandal that shocked the British public, was debated in a parliamentary committee, and occupied hours of news and talk show discussion. The scandal related to TV call-in competitions and how in the case of "Blue Peter", a popular BBC children's programme, producers fixed the results of the competition -- not for financial gain but because the phone system crashed -- and an over zealous junior assistant picked a child visitor in the BBC building to act as the winner. In the case of Channel 4, the company which handles phone competitions for the channel's most important daily show, "Richard & Judy", picked the winners of the competition hours before the announced official closing of phone lines, meaning that people calling after that time had no chance of winning. All organisations were fined and warned over the incidents and ordered to refund viewers affected. One shudders at the thought of how channels and companies in Egypt, and indeed the Arab world, run these competitions, and more importantly if there is any kind of government monitoring or regulation over these activities? Government -- or rather, state -- regulation of independent television in Egypt has been virtually non-existent. And regulation here does not only mean on editorial (read censorship) matters. Last week, however, Arab ministers of information, with the exception of Qatar and Lebanon, agreed on the adoption of a document entitled Principles for Regulating Satellite TV in the Arab World. Sponsored and sought primarily by Egypt and Saudi Arabia, the document is comprehensive if typically vague and speaks of protecting, amongst other things, Arab social sensibilities from the effects of globalisation, Arab leaders from offensive remarks that belittle them as symbols, the dignity of Arab nations and, of course, children. Many broadcasters perceive this document as a tool for limiting whatever margins of freedom won by Egyptian satellite broadcasters over the past decade. Perhaps this is true. But what is equally true is that Egyptian channels in general, and some current affairs programmes in particular, bear the burden of responsibility for this reaction from the government. Put mildly, some channels and programmes have behaved like adolescent teenagers let loose. What many of them failed to recognise is that current affairs on television should be subject to the rules and regulations of journalism, much like newspapers and magazines are. Instead, what viewers got was mostly opinion mixed with falsehood and innuendo and only occasionally fact. Little proper reporting is ever done. Current affairs became, mostly, the equivalent of the coffeehouse conversation: exciting, compelling, vibrant, witty but ultimately unsubstantiated, imprecise and invariably too long, leaving people sitting around numb in the head, failing to sort out truth from hearsay, and none the wiser but definitely more cynical as they get up to go home eventually. That is what many a self-important TV anchor will tell you in the most arrogant manner "successful" TV is. Even the mighty BBC is regulated by a very precise code of practice that gauges and monitors all aspects of current affairs broadcasting: from attribution and sourcing to the allocation of time given to any particular subject or speaker. In Britain, the Office of Communications regulates all broadcasters, public and private, down to ratio advertising. Even American TV news, seen by some as more entertainment than news, saw the resignation of Dan Rather after 24 years as the main anchor of CBS's Evening News after a story he reported on turned out to be based on forged documents that he failed to verify before pursuing the story. The problem here is that television current affairs programming has been equated with political and social activism, with anchors acting like politicians, which, necessarily, means editorialising and preaching. Because of the sophomoric approach of some who own and run TV channels solely for prestige and/or profit, primetime television has essentially been reduced to endless talk with and about stars or hard politics with nothing in between. Surely there is more to life that can be adapted to make compelling and profitable TV? The response from "experts" running television will probably be: "but that is what people want." In a country that has had private channels for less than 10 years, that statement cannot hold true. At the risk of sounding pompous, no one can definitively say what people's wants are since the people themselves are largely unaccustomed to non-state television. What these experts fail to mention is that the much regarded BBC was founded on the premise that the BBC should provide what is good for the people, which is why there is a much stronger tradition of documentary and factual entertainment in British television than in most developed countries. Education was instilled as a value at the outset of television. Ultimately, however, television journalism, like print journalism, is a subjective endeavour and no amount of regulation can displace the journalists' or anchors' commitment to being as objective as humanely possible. And it is possible. That is how the Americans have Ted Koppel, Mike Wallace and the British have Tim Sebastian and David Dimbleby. Independent television in Egypt is in its adolescence and no government, entity or person can claim its vision. Not the founders of NileSat who failed to lay down guidelines for all aspects of broadcasting, editorial or otherwise; a prerequisite that could have positively impacted the development of television on and off the screen. And certainly not most of the owners of channels who treat television either as an ornament to embellish their prestige or as a crude money- making scheme. If television insiders regard the new regional charter as a setback for freedom of expression, perhaps they can think again about how they used freedom to express themselves. They should focus more on reviewing and improving their craft (for there is much to improve), and less on the perceived -- and perhaps real -- threat of the curtailment of freedom. A mature assessment of the situation will show that the government cannot by decree turn the clock back and cannot undo the gains in freedom that broadcasters have attained over the years. By creating and adhering to their own proper editorial standards, broadcasters will win credibility that is sustainable. In theory, and to a large extent in practice, if television and current affairs programming were made according to a proper journalistic code of practice, a system would be created that would be very hard to dismantle once it became the norm amongst professionals. For years, TV channels based in Egypt were subject to informal pressure or "guidance" from the government whenever they ventured beyond the "red line". There seemed to be an unwritten rule that channels would largely monitor themselves, given that they knew the taboo subjects. It will be interesting to see how the most prominent anchors and programmes react to pressure now. Like journalists sticking to concise accurate reporting, or like politicians riding the wave of compromise? I think most people will know the answer. * The writer is an independent producer and TV consultant.
