Egypt Independent: Media features

Final Issue: More than a language — Politics of local English media

Dina K. Hussein,Dalia Rabie — Thu, 25 Apr 2013 10:24:00 +0000

This piece was written for Egypt Independent's final weekly print edition, which was banned from going to press. We offer you our 50th and final edition here.

“It’s Always the Fixer Who Dies” is the title of a seminal article by George Packer that appeared in The New Yorker in 2009 to mourn the death of Sultan Munadi, a local fixer who lost his life in a commando raid in Afghanistan.

The raid that ended Munadi’s life was instigated to free a foreign journalist who had been kidnapped by the Taliban. The foreign correspondent was freed, the fixer died and the operation was deemed a success.

This tragedy and Packer’s dramatic title are fitting curtain raisers to the struggle of local English-language media in Egypt.

For decades, local journalists who had the necessary language skills helped foreign correspondents working for Western news organizations to tell Egypt’s story to the world. Yet, as Packer remarks, this fixer-foreign correspondent relationship has always been tense, punctuated by a power imbalance.

This imbalance in the journalistic establishment pays homage to the classical inequalities of power that dictate who gets to produce knowledge. A plain analysis of this condition speaks of a Western journalistic establishment that possesses the power and money to send its correspondents to gaze at the troubled Middle East and provide the world with the knowledge base of this part of the world through narrating the story of the locals.

Local English-language media have played a vital role in partially mending this power imbalance by allowing Egyptian journalists to tell Egypt’s story to the world, not as fixers who might or might not get their due credit, but as primary storytellers.

These outlets have provided local journalists with an opportunity to tell their country’s narrative in their own voice. Additionally, these media outlets have created a unique space for local and foreign journalists, editors and translators to interact and work together to report critically and with integrity, breaking away from the rigidity of foreign-local dichotomies and the associated power imbalance.

In the process, these outlets became a go-to source for international media organizations interested in covering Egypt, mediating complex realities about the country to the world.

Prominent publisher Hisham Kassem, who launched the now-defunct independent English-language magazine Cairo Times, considers local independent English-language news outlets a better resource for readers who seek to understand Egypt than the New York Times, for instance.

“Local journalists know the country inside and out. They have more credit,” he says.

Similarly, Rasha Sadek, reporter at Al-Ahram Weekly, believes local English media have an edge because these outlets are “locally made.” It requires, she says, “a certain degree of understanding of the mechanisms and dynamics of Egyptian society and culture to be able to accurately report on certain events.

“Without this, foreign reports can often be misleading,” she adds.

For David Kenner, associate editor at Foreign Policy, it is also an issue of trust. He explains that the problems faced by foreign and local media are different, adding that foreign reporters often face the problem of access.

“It can be difficult to reach certain groups or parts of the country that an Egyptian journalist might be able to contact easily,” he says.

He explains that it also comes down to knowledge.

“A foreign journalist’s stint in Egypt is limited, and they won’t have the social and professional network that a local journalist would, by virtue of having spent his or her life in the country,” Kenner says.

Local English-language media outlets also produce a journalism that informs media practice in Egypt in the way stories are covered and issues are represented. Kassem attributes it to a higher professional level than Arabic media.

Rania al-Malky, former editor-in-chief of Daily News Egypt, also sees this discrepancy, pinpointing a difference in the newsroom culture.

“Arabic press has become more partisan, as opposed to its English counterpart, which is more professional in covering stories,” she says.

But, these merits aside, local English-language outlets have faced numerous challenges over the years. While many of these challenges are financial in nature and pertain to the viability of their business models, there have also been critical political restrictions.

Even though English-language publications have enjoyed a higher ceiling of freedom compared to Arabic media outlets, they have often been intimidated by censors.

Cairo Times, which was the leading English-language paper in the late 1990s and early 2000s, was a pioneer in criticizing Hosni Mubarak’s regime, and often grappled with the censors.

“It came to a point where I was verbally banned to print in Egypt,” Kassem says.

He would fly to Cyprus and return with the copies as cargo.

“We would print and they would confiscate,” he says.

This tug of war continued until the powers-that-be shifted their attention to advertisers, and, Kassem says, starting threatening them. This took a toll on revenue, and, after seven years of printing, Cairo Times announced its bankruptcy.

This state of intimidation of media outlets is not a distant memory, since the state’s stifling of freedom of expression has not subsided with the revolution.

The struggle of local English-speaking media has intensified under the current administration for both political and economic reasons. The recent dismissal of Hani Shukrallah, former editor-in-chief of state-owned Ahram Online and a journalist known for his integrity and progressive views, is telling of the current administration’s heavy-handed policing of local English-media outlets.

“The deed is done: the Muslim Brotherhood has now fulfilled its resolve to drive me out of Ahram,” Shukrallah posted on his Facebook page, explaining that he hung on after decisions to cut his salary in half, force him into early retirement and cut the remaining half of his salary by two-thirds.

For many, this incident is telling of a quest to control the image that English-language media outlets produce about Egypt abroad at a time when the Brotherhood administration, like its predecessors, is trying to preserve its relationships with strategic foreign allies.

While seemingly different, the cases of Cairo Times and Ahram Online meet at several intersections.

These lie in the fact that those on the forefront of successful English-language media in Egypt are often independent voices, regardless of their institutional affiliations, and that the precarious ecology of freedom of expression that preceded the revolution is persisting in our post-uprising times. And, most importantly, the two cases manifest an alarming lack of political commitment from media entrepreneurs toward the significance of this kind of journalism.

In a note of support to Egypt Independent, professor Nathan Brown wrote that “the vibrancy of the political debate in Egypt has become accessible through Egypt Independent.

“Egypt no longer speaks in a single political voice, and Egypt Independent has become the leading medium for English speakers to hear and make sense of the new cacophony,” he said.

Similarly, scholar Yasmine Moataz wrote, “Egypt Independent has played an essential role in shaping, developing and nurturing debates about Egypt’s rapid political transformations.”

The preservation of English-language media outlets in Egypt today is crucial, especially at a time when the current administration and ruling party are hiding the truth from the world about their commitment to the revolution and its democratic aspirations. In this environment, local English-language media play a central role in representing and narrating the truth at a time when the road to freedom is plagued by historical amnesia and the manipulation of history by those in power.

Final Issue: Job security, financial problems and dangers plague journalists

Jano Charbel — Thu, 25 Apr 2013 09:34:00 +0000

This piece was written for Egypt Independent’s final weekly print edition, which was banned from going to press. We offer you our 50th and final edition here.

Journalism is becoming an increasingly dangerous and precarious profession in Egypt. Thousands of journalists risk life and limb on the streets while covering volatile events — often to find that their job security is also being threatened. In numerous cases, journalists are “rewarded” for their efforts by being dismissed from their jobs.

Al-Masry Media Corporation is the most recent employer to “reward” its journalists and employees with mass layoffs. Concerned with profitability, the company recently dismissed a number of its employees, with its closure of Al-Siyassy magazine in February and Egypt Independent this month.

While Egypt Independent is the most recent victim of closures and layoffs, a host of other newspapers and magazines — particularly independent and opposition publications — have also been shut down in recent years. Several of the remaining newspapers have raised the prices of their publications while cutting their budgets, and laying off employees.

Al-Siyassy and Egypt Independent follow in the footsteps of many including Al-Badeel, Al-Dostour and Daily News Egypt — the original versions — which have all been forced to shut down in recent years.

Khaled al-Balshy, Journalists Syndicate secretary and former editor of Al-Badeel newspaper, says that 13 papers have been closed down over the past few years.

“These closures have left some 350 journalists unemployed,” Balshy says.

Balshy adds that a total of 650 to 700 journalists, if not more, have been dismissed prior to and since the 25 January revolution two years ago.

“More closures are expected in the near future and more job losses are expected as a result,” Balshy says.

Burdensome profession

In Egypt and the Arab world, journalism is known as “mahnat al-mataeb” — the burdensome profession. Faced with physical danger, the threat of arrests, growing financial crises, the mismanagement of news outlets and rising unemployment — along with a host of other problems — Egypt’s journalists increasingly find themselves paying the price for these burdens with their own welfare and jobs.

Prior to and since the revolution’s onset, journalists are continuing to risk their lives and physical safety while covering violent protests, clashes and uprisings.

Police shotguns have claimed the eyes of several journalists, while independent journalist Al-Husseini Abu Deif was shot dead outside the presidential palace in December, and journalist Mohamed Sabry faces a military tribunal for his work in Sinai.

Countless others have been beaten and arrested by security forces, assaulted by supporters of the ruling regime (outside Muslim Brotherhood offices and the presidential palace), and even attacked by the Coptic Orthodox Church’s boy scouts.

“Neither employers nor the Journalists Syndicate provide sufficient safety nets for journalists,” says Mohamed Radwan, a freelancer who used to work for Al-Dostour newspaper.

Radwan is one of nearly 100 journalists who have lost their jobs at Al-Dostour.

Egyptian journalists

The average salaries of full-time journalists in daily newspapers range from LE400 to LE2,000 per month. For internships and training, beginner journalists are typically not paid at all.

Moreover, the widespread practice of employing full-time journalists on part-time contracts serves to deny these employees their right to bonuses, promotions, insurance coverage, profit sharing (when applicable), job stability and the right to join the Journalists Syndicate.

“I’d been employed for five years at Al-Dostour, yet was not even offered a part-time contract,” Radwan says. “I was thus denied my periodic bonuses, insurance plan and end-of-service payment, along with all of my other rights.”

Only a minority of journalists are accepted into the Journalists Syndicate, Radwan adds.

“The syndicate neither serves the interests nor protects the rights of the majority of Egypt’s journalists,” he says. “The syndicate doesn’t care about our grievances, difficulties and daily suffering.”

Balshy says the syndicate has a membership of about 9,000 journalists nationwide, of which some 7,000 are still practicing the profession. Another 6,000 or more journalists are not syndicate members.

The syndicate’s bylaws are the problem, he argues.

“We must change syndicate bylaws,” he says. “It is becoming increasingly difficult for journalists to apply for membership.”

He asserts that the syndicate is supposed to protect all journalists, especially those beginning their careers and those who are denied full-time contracts.

“It should be a syndicate for all those who practice the profession,” he says.

Balshy concedes that, given present economic hardships, it may be more difficult for journalists to acquire full-time contracts.

“Nevertheless, the syndicate should strive to protect disadvantaged journalists, not merely those lucky enough to have full-time contracts,” he argues.

But administrative shortcomings, financial mismanagement and other social, economic and political factors continue to hinder the provision of full-time contracts for full-time work, Balshy says, and may lead to additional closures of news outlets in the near future.

With regard to the closure of Egypt Independent, the secretary of the syndicate states, “I generally attribute the closure to the lack of English-speaking readers in Egypt, low subscriptions, high expenses and mismanagement on the part of Al-Masry Al-Youm.”

Foreign journalists

While the average salaries of foreign journalists and Egyptians employed in foreign-language media outlets is nearly double that of local journalists, non-Egyptian journalists face numerous difficulties.

Foreign media personnel are not allowed membership in the Journalists Syndicate. Non-Egyptian journalists are can only register themselves at the state-controlled Foreign Press Association (FPA).

The FPA provides these non-Egyptians with work permits and journalist IDs, which are subject to selective renewals.

Foreign journalists who have fallen out of favor with the FPA have been slapped with travel bans, criminal investigations and, in many cases, are denied re-entry into Egypt. Foreign journalists also face a rising tide of xenophobia.

Earlier this month, Dutch journalist Rena Netjes was arrested and handed over to police, who accused her of “espionage” and “disseminating Western culture.” She was released, but later charged with not having a valid work permit.

Wael Tawfiq, founding member of the Independent Egyptian Journalists’ Syndicate, says the group accepts foreigners in the syndicate, but only as affiliates.

“They do not have the right to vote in syndicate elections nor to nominate themselves. On the other hand, the official [Journalists] Syndicate does not accept foreigners under any condition,” Tawfiq says.

Tawfiq says his independent syndicate claims a membership of some 600 people, nearly all of whom are Egyptian.

“We don’t demand full-time contracts as a prerequisite for membership, only an archive of published materials in a news outlet based in Egypt,” he says.

In what he calls an “absence of safeguards” from employers and the official syndicate, the independent syndicate stands “for the defense of journalists’ rights through all stages of their work,” and attempts to protect members from punitive measures.

However, his syndicate does not have an emergency fund, nor does it provide unemployment assistance.

The official Journalists Syndicate has filed lawsuits against both the Independent Journalists Syndicate and the Egyptian Online Journalists Syndicate, both of which were established in 2011. The official syndicate claims it is the sole association legally entrusted with representing and organizing Egyptian journalists.

Bleak outlook

Radwan says Egypt’s press freedoms and right to free expression are being “eroded” by the Muslim Brotherhood.

“Plus, we are expecting more economic problems in the media industry and in the general economy as a whole,” he says.

Radwan expects higher unemployment rates for journalists and media employees, along with fewer independent and opposition news outlets.

Tawfiq also expects more media outlets to close, due to both the Brotherhood’s attempts at “gagging” the media and the faltering economic conditions throughout the country.

“We’ve seen how President Mohamed Morsy’s supporters have besieged the [private] Media Production City. We’ve witnessed an unprecedented number of lawsuits against critical journalists, the appointment of regime loyalists to the top state-owned publications and channels, and the court-ordered closures of several satellite TV channels,” says Tawfiq.

He says he expects fewer job opportunities, lower salaries for full-time journalists and decreased rates for freelancers in the future.

Additional English-language publications and websites are expected to soon close. These closures will leave the state with a near monopoly on foreign-language news publications.

Final Issue: Media stuck between the state and the corporate sector

Mai Shams El-Din,Omar Halawa — Thu, 25 Apr 2013 09:25:00 +0000

This piece was written for Egypt Independent’s final weekly print edition, which was banned from going to press. We offer you our 50th and final edition here.

Amid a troubled political climate and an unsettled transition process, Egyptian media outlets are struggling to endure the state’s tight grip over press freedoms and the abusive working conditions imposed by proprietors of some private media.

For decades, media ownership was completely controlled by the state, as print, broadcast and radio outlets functioned as its mouthpiece, spoon-feeding the public its propaganda schemes.

In the mid-2000s, a new class of business owners formed what was then described as more “independent” media outlets. A wave of private channels and newspapers were opened to challenge the regime’s tight grip on media freedoms.

But hopes for a truly independent media are being threatened, as private media owners continue to either intervene in the editorial policies set by journalists or abuse the rights of journalists working there.

The problems at Al-Badeel and Al-Tahrir newspapers are just minor examples. Last October, a group of editors and journalists at Al-Badeel were laid off due to what was described by former Editor-in-Chief Khaled al-Balshy as an editorial intervention by the owners.

“Al-Badeel was a different, bright experience by all measures. Regrettably, however, it was stifled for several reasons,” said Ahmed Ramadan, one of the senior editors.

Ramadan recalled that when Balshy tried to reopen the paper in 2010, he began with the website, soliciting the help of former editors and reporters. All made financial contributions to revive the website but the money was not enough.

Then, in March 2011 — two months after the 25 January revolution broke out — several interested investors emerged.

“More than one group approached us to fund the project, but several of them were capitalists or part of the [Hosni] Mubarak regime. We weren’t enthusiastic about working with them, since this would go against our paper’s leftist principles,” he said.

Later, he said, a group of Nasserist-leaning businessmen came forward and promised to start reprinting the paper while bearing all the costs of running the website, as well as paying the editorial team’s salaries. They also promised to invest LE25 million in the first year, but these promises never came to fruition.

Shortly afterward, however, conflict emerged between the staff and the management when the new owners attempted to interfere in the editorial policy, said Balshy.

“The paper’s stance toward the Syrian revolution was not very much liked by the Nasserist owners. Their intervention led me to present my resignation four times, but my resignations were always rejected,” Balshy, who was later elected to the Journalists Syndicate’s board, told Egypt Independent at the time. “They believe that what’s happening in Syria is a Western conspiracy against the regime, while I believe it is a conspiracy by the repressive regime against its own people.”

In this polarized context, the owners decided to drastically reduce their investment to LE720,000, and canceled plans to start printing again. They reneged on promises to hire many of the journalists who worked on temporary contracts, Balshy said.

“We felt like we were in big danger after the arbitrary measures taken by the owners. But the biggest surprise was when they sold the website to an Egyptian-Saudi investor named Mohamed al-Sabban, who is known to belong to the Muslim Brotherhood,” Ramadan said.

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back, he added. “Some of us decided to leave, but unfortunately, the majority decided to stay for financial reasons.”

Meanwhile, journalists at Al-Tahrir newspaper who were hired on temporary contracts went on strike last month, demanding their contracts be changed to permanent ones so they could become syndicate members.

The newspaper’s outspoken editor-in-chief, Ibrahim Eissa, rejected their appointments, claiming their editors had submitted reports to him stating that the journalists were not yet eligible.

But some of the editors, who are syndicate members, supported their striking colleagues. Their efforts were, however, dealt with harshly, as the administration dismissed the striking journalists and the editors who supported them. Eissa briefly resigned.

The current rift between journalists and a regime that is highly critical of the media on the one hand, and between journalists and corporate owners on the other, have led many independent journalists to seek a third way.

In 2011, a group of rights activists and media experts proposed to find a third route to ensure a total separation from the dual control of the state and the corporate bosses over media, but thus far efforts have faced serpentine legal constraints.

These activists planned to establish an independent channel called “The People Want” through the formation of a cooperative with an initial public offering, but legal constraints dogged the ambitious project.

Lawyer Reda Eissa, who was part of the initiative, said Egyptian laws prevent cooperatives from establishing media projects.

“Unfortunately, there is no unified law to organize cooperatives at large. We have a law for agricultural cooperatives, another for industrial ones, another one for consumption goods cooperatives; but we cannot establish a cooperative for a media product, and we cannot establish a cooperative for a bank, for example,” Eissa said. “The Egyptian citizen who wants to establish a cooperative does not enjoy the same privileges given to his or her counterpart in a company.”

The initial public offering can only be established for a company, not for a cooperative, which makes the enterprise subject to a complete takeover from any investor in the stock market.

“This threatens the whole idea of having no certain media owner to control the project,” he added.

Those who worked on the initiative also suggested establishing the channel by licensing an NGO concerned with media freedoms. One of the NGO’s activities would be to launch a channel.

Gamal Eid, executive director of the Arab Network of Human Rights Information and one of the initiative’s founders, told Egypt Independent that even this option is invalid within the current legal infrastructure.

According to the current NGOs law, the state can suspend the activity of any non-governmental organization, which makes such a project subject to closure at anytime.

“Once the channel presents content that the state would not like, it is going to be shut down by a judicial employee. It’s very risky,” Eid said.

Anti-Egypt journalist: Cairo has failed to produce anything

Omar Halawa — Wed, 10 Apr 2013 13:30:00 +0000

DOHA — Days before his controversial tweets sparked an outcry in Egypt; prominent Qatari journalist Ahmed Ali told Egypt Independent in an exclusive interview that as of today, Egypt has failed to produce anything of worth.

In his interview with Egypt Independent, Ali said, “The degree to which a country is civilized is measured by its production and success in the present time and not in the past. Qatar was unanimously selected to host the 2022 FIFA World Cup while a few years before Egypt lost the same bid to host the 2010 World Cup and got zero votes.”

In contrast with Egypt, Ali said from his office at Al Watan newspaper's headquarters in Doha, that Qatar is a country looking forward to the future with its talented leadership.

He was referring to one of Egypt's most flawed international appearances, when Egypt, in the bid for the FIFA World Cup 2010 that was to be held in an African country — failed to garner a single vote from the 24 members of FIFA's Executive Committee.

Egypt's “zero vote” has become a common phrase in addressing the failure of former President Hosni Mubarak to maintain Egypt's political and cultural weight in the international arena.

Ali highlighted some of the differences between Egypt and Qatar. He said that unlike Egyptians, Qataris don't want revolution or democracy.

“Why did you Egyptians go to Tahrir? Because of political repression and differences between social classes? Why should we oppose the prince? A citizen who decides to get married receives a plot of land to build on and facilitated loans. Students have the right to get educated at the expense of the state overseas at the best universities in the world, and they are eligible for a monthly salary before graduation. This is real luxury.”

“We do not want the democracy of Kuwait, where the politicians commit suicide, nor do we want the democracy of the Spanish and the Greeks which has indebted their nations. We have our own experiment.”

The interview was conducted two days before satirist Bassem Youssef criticized Qatar's increasing role in Egyptian politics, especially its support of President Mohamed Morsy.

However, after the episode in question, Ali published a salvo of angry tweets against Egypt, which caused wide uproar on social media.

"We might be bootlicking to the US as you claim, but we would never allow it to subdue us, as you do in return for its conditional financial aid,” Ali said on his Twitter account on Tuesday before deactivating it.

“America has been your primary backer for decades, and do not forget its annual, conditional, financial aid to you in return for implementing its policies,” he said.

He went on to say, that “what else are you (Egyptians) good at other than making falafel?”

He also criticized what he said was as an Egyptian mantra of having long history without planning for the future. “There are countries that lean on their old civilizations such as bankrupt Greece and economically-deteriorated Egypt. What good did history bring you, history man?”

He also accused Egypt of heavy reliance on imports and failing to establish strong local industry. “You speak about industry while you import everything from abroad, even Ramadan lanterns are imported from China,” he said.

Ali believes Egyptians are stuck in their past and decline to think of their future. "You have a past complex, Nefertiti," he said sarcastically.

Egyptians are also disloyal to their leaders and fight each other for power in a time when their country is economically devastated, according to the Qatari journalist.

“When we address our leaders saying ‘may you live for long’, that’s because we are loyal to them,” he said. “We wouldn’t do to them what you did to King Farouq, Sadat, Mubarak, and recently, Morsy.”

Maspero workers’ delayed salaries highlight institution’s dire finances

Mai Shams El-Din — Mon, 08 Apr 2013 10:21:00 +0000

The iconic Maspero television building has long been a protest hub for activists voicing their mounting frustration with the state’s media arm.

After the 25 January uprising, the iconic Maspero building was the site of regular protests by Egypt’s Coptic minority. It has also been the main area in which mass Tahrir Square protests against the ruling regime spill over.

More recently, a small group of media personnel protested what they consider the Muslim Brotherhood’s stifling control over the state-owned television and radio institution, especially in the aftermath of the presidential palace clashes and President Mohamed Morsy’s controversial constitutional declaration in November.

Adding to its many woes, late March brought about a different kind of demonstration — one by Maspero employees demanding outstanding salaries, highlighting the institution’s beleaguered financial state. Some also called for the dismissal of Information Minister Salah Abdel Maqsoud, whom they claim is a Brotherhood sympathizer.

Protesters briefly blocked the Corniche al-Nil in front of the state television building as a form of escalation.

Balance of payments

The historic state television building located in the heart of Cairo, with its 43,000 employees, has long been criticized for being a tool in the hands of successive Egyptian regimes — pre- and post-revolution — as they tighten an already suffocating grip over public opinion.

Now, an institution that has been an inveterate part of the country’s bureaucracy faces a widening budget deficit, much like the state to which it belongs. Delayed and outstanding salaries may well be the first episode in an unfolding story.

In February, Ibrahim al-Sayyad, head of the news department, said the Egyptian Radio and Television Union is nearly LE20 billion in debt, following a previous statement by the information minister putting the debt at LE19 billion.

“The financial situation of Maspero has been critical since the revolution. There is a huge budget deficit,” Abdel Maqsoud said in a phone interview with Nile News following the protests, which he described as “barbaric.”

Protesters say their salaries have been delayed sometimes by two weeks, and sometimes for more than two months.

Those employed in the news division, however, say their salaries were one week late, but that they were paid after the protests. Others working in the specialized channels division say they have not yet been paid, underlining a differentiation in the treatment of employees depending on the divisions they work in.

“It depends on where you work. If you work in the news division, you are more likely to be paid earlier because you can cause a lot of embarrassment to the administration,” Dalia Hassan, a presenter on the national satellite channel who participated in the recent protests, tells Egypt Independent.

“After the protests, we received our basic salaries without the bonuses, which is a very small part of the total salaries,” she adds.

Public employees’ basic salaries are usually meager, leading them to rely mainly on added bonuses, incentives and allowances to make up their net salaries.

Dalia Hassouna, radio presenter and member of the Independent Media Figures coalition, who was fully paid following the protests, says the situation has worsened over time.

“Before the revolution, it was normal for some employees to not get paid for six months, but of course, no one had the courage to speak out. ... When a whole family depends on this salary, [even] a one-week delay is not a luxury they can afford,” she adds.

Hassan says rumors have been circulating about new bylaws in the works to restructure the wage scheme of Maspero employees, which could lead to lower pay for a sizeable number of the staff.

In turn, protesters’ demands include a 30 percent raise, besides timely salary payments, she adds.

Abdel Maqsoud says these are rumors, and suggests that there may be intentions to stir instability at Maspero.

“I have to ask you, did you suffer from any payment delays? I bet you didn’t,” he asked the Nile News anchor, who replied by saying he was uncertain because he had not yet checked his bank account.

Hassan confirms there is discrimination between employees based on which division they work in.

“Why are many workers in divisions other than news not paid for months, while others are paid immediately?” she asks.

Abdel Maqsoud, however, denied that salaries are regularly late.

“Only the March salaries were late, by four days, and that delay has to do with the Finance Ministry, which sent us our monthly budget late. This happened with other ministries as well,” he said.

The minister said that while Maspero is allocated LE147 million a month in the state budget, salaries alone amount to LE250 million, so the amount allocated is not enough to cover basic costs.

“The Finance Ministry has to pay us more than what we are due every month, and this is all counted as debt,” he said.

Even the television series production division, traditionally a source of generous revenues for the troubled institution, is grappling with its own problems.

Adel Thabet, head of the television production division, has said in various media reports that they would not be producing any new series this year due to the widening budget deficit. Instead, series that were produced last year but never aired will be released throughout 2013.

This comes despite the fact that Ramadan is usually marked by a spike in television series production and the flush of ads they bring in, but that may have shifted over the years to satellite television channels.

Not reform-minded

For years, critics and media experts have criticized the way Maspero is run. They say the only way to truly reform the mammoth media institution is through a well-defined economic and professional restructuring plan, which unfortunately may threaten its 43,000-strong workforce.

“It is a huge risk, and no one seems to be willing to take it,” Hassouna says.

She has been working closely with other journalists in Maspero, who have distanced themselves from state control, to reform the ailing institution. She says employees who work on producing media material only number 6,000, while the rest are administrative staff who “do the job that hundreds can do.”

“We have 7,000 security personnel. Why do we need this huge number?” she asks. “To receive your salary, 10 people have to sign your check — one person could do this more efficiently.”

For Maspero to turn into a profitable institution, it’s essential to cut staff, a move she doubts there is any political will to undertake.

“The military rejected the restructuring plan. They used to plug the budget deficit with their own budget,” she claims, referring to the time the Supreme Council of Armed Forces ruled after Hosni Mubarak’s ouster. “Since President Mohamed Morsy ascended to power, the Brotherhood-affiliated minister is unwilling to make decisions that could endanger the regime’s already troubled image.”

She hints at an inability to make unpopular decisions such as this one.

Khaled al-Sobky, one of the senior accountants at Maspero, tells Egypt Independent that the main problem is one of corruption and inefficiency.

“There is a huge mismatch between the salaries of regular employees and the [senior staff] ... and there is no wage equality among the employees of different divisions,” he says.

The dissident accountant assures that if a transparent minimum and maximum wage scheme existed, the budget deficit would be significantly lower.

“To do this, you are going to upset the older leaders, who are used by the regime to keep Maspero as the mouthpiece of the regime, not of the people,” he says.

Sobky adds that Maspero provides services, such as media consulting, to various government institutions, the cost of which has amounted to LE2.3 billion. The money due, he claims, is paid by the Finance Ministry in monthly installments of LE250 million, but it does not appear in the budget and no one knows where it goes.

He also refuted figures cited by Abdel Maqsoud on several occasions.

“Abdel Maqsoud previously said that LE63 million is paid annually as retirement packages, which is impossible. An average worker would never receive more than LE 40,000 as a retirement package, and we have around 1,000 employees retiring yearly, which would amount to only LE40 million. Where did the rest of the money go?” he repeats.

In an interview, Abdel Maqsoud said the ministry is working tirelessly on cutting expenditure and combating financial corruption.

Hassouna believes the broad-ranging and compound problems facing Maspero need a concerted political will.

“I have spoken to many employees who say they are willing to leave if they are financially compensated well,” she says, adding that if the political will exists along with a viable restructuring plan, the institution can be easily put back in shape.

However, she adds, it is “something that I do not see happening in the near future.”

No photo, no story: Photojournalists protest abuses

Virginie Nguyen — Sun, 31 Mar 2013 08:57:00 +0000

"No photo, no story" read one poster carried by one of many photojournalists at a protest held on 19 March in front of the Shura Council, in response to ongoing violence toward them during the last wave of clashes between security and protesters across the country. Other protesters carried pictures of their bruised colleagues taken after they were beaten by police.

The day reflected a growing plea by photojournalists who feel they have less institutional support, and are therefore more vulnerable, than other journalists.

“As photographers, we have to be on the front line to get our images, so we are more visible but also easy targets,” says Eman Helal, a photojournalist at Al-Masry Al-Youm.

Amir Nabil, vice president of the Egyptian Photojournalists Society, which is part of the Journalists Syndicate, says the problems have recently been compounded.

“These last two months, photographers have faced harassment from several sides, police as well as protesters,” Nabil says. “It is not something new in our profession in Egypt but we have to raise our voices.”

Security forces attacked Nabil back in 2005 — he lost his right eye while covering parliamentary elections when a policeman threw a brick at him. A few years later, and despite the 25 January revolution and regime change, problems persist.

“What happens between photographers and police keeps repeating. It’s always the same story. They target photographers, break or confiscate their cameras, steal their wallets and arrest them for hours, while beating them up, or not if they are lucky,” says Nabil.

On 16 March, clashes erupted when Muslim Brotherhood members attacked protesters spraying anti-Brotherhood graffiti near the group’s headquarters in Moqattam, on the edge of Cairo. Security officers then targeted photographers and journalists covering the clashes.

Witnesses said Brotherhood members used sticks and iron chains in the attack, breaking Mohamed Nabil’s leg and Amr Diab’s arm. Both men are photographers for Al-Watan newspaper.

“I was taking pictures of young people drawing on the ground, then security guards came out of the [Brotherhood] headquarters building and started to clash with the youth. When they saw me and my colleagues reporting what was happening, they started to shout at us, saying that we were bad media,” says Diab.

Diab says they then attacked the photographers and their cameras, and injured his arm. “Afterward, I went to the prosecutor’s office to complain, and although he said those who did that would be sued, I haven’t seen anything moving or any action taken against them,” he says.

Photojournalists see impunity as a reason for the continued attacks against them. Helal says her camera lens was broken and she was punched during a march on 26 January 2011.

“I fell on the ground. Fortunately, people helped me stand up. I’m a member of the Journalists Syndicate, which issued a [statement] but nothing else,” she says. “I didn’t get any compensation for what happened and the security officers will never get sued.”

Earlier this month, Diab and Nabil met with Interior Ministry officials to address the issue. Nabil says they were promised that harassment of photographers would stop, and that a Central Security Forces general would meet with them.

“We do these meetings because we are no one’s enemy. We covered [Hosni] Mubarak as we are now covering the Brotherhood. The camera should be respected because it never lies,” says Nabil.

Nabil and others complain that police are not the only force preventing them from doing their work. They say protesters also sometimes prevent photographers from doing their work, and threaten to break their cameras if they are caught taking pictures.

Nabil explains that these protesters fear being recognized in the media, leading to police arrests. “Also, most of the time, if they don’t want us to take pictures, they are probably doing something wrong,” he says.

Hamada al-Rasam, also a photographer, says he understands why protesters are sometimes worried about having their photos taken, because photos can be misused or the wrong captions printed in error.

“The problem is not about a law to respect photographers, the problem is on the ground. The protesters and the police have to understand that we are just taking photos. We want to tell people what happened. We are not the Brotherhood, the ultras or the Black Bloc,” says Mohamed Aley Eddin, a freelance photographer.

Nabil stresses this will only happen if people understand that photographers do not take positions. “We would like people to understand that a photographer is not expressing his or her point of view. They are just reflecting what’s happening. When they leave their cameras at home, then they can express whatever they want,” he says.

With meager pay and scant institutional support, particularly for photojournalists working without contracts, the risks are high. Many say it a passion for the job that keeps them going.

The Egyptian Photojournalists Society was set up as a space for photographers to address the Journalists Syndicate’s exclusionary nature and lack of action in some cases. The society was created six years ago, one year after Nabil lost his eye, in response to security forces’ abuse of photojournalists.

In early 2007, security forces prevented photographers from taking pictures for more than five minutes in Parliament after an Al-Masry Al-Youm photojournalist took a picture of then-Prime Minister Ahmed Nazif eating a watermelon seed. In response, photographers demonstrated in front of the Journalists Syndicate and decided to form their own division.

Renowned photojournalist Hossam Diab was elected as chairperson, and Nabil as deputy chairperson.

The Journalists Syndicate’s membership is limited to photographers with official contracts with media organizations and university degrees.

Nabil says the society is a branch of the syndicate and can not decide on the rules for membership.

“Sometimes those rules are a shame, as we have many photographers in Egypt who are very talented, but who haven’t graduated from university,” Nabil says. “As a society, we are trying to have accreditation for photographers who can’t be part of the syndicate. This accreditation is proof that the photojournalists society is there to help them.”

Inside newspapers, photojournalists also face internal challenges. Randa Shaath, head of the photography department at Al-Shorouk daily, says: “Photojournalists face violence in the streets not only from authorities but from thugs and people who have different views of photography If they get harrassed or attacked and go back to their newspapers, they don’t always get compensated for their broken or stolen equipments.

“In addition, they are not well paid, their photos are not always published and the newspapers don’t give them their proper respect. We are still in a culture that values the written word over an image; a culture that is visually illiterate.”

Journalists Syndicate polls reveal anti-Brotherhood bloc, but many challenges lie ahead

Heba Afify — Tue, 26 Mar 2013 13:47:00 +0000

Even though the Muslim Brotherhood did not field any candidates in the Journalists Syndicate elections last week, the results have still been perceived as a blow to the ruling group.

Candidates seen as the strongest Brotherhood opponents won the board's top spot and six board seats up for renewal, demonstrating once again that the Journalists Syndicate sits outside the control of the Brotherhood.

But while much of the attention has been drawn to the anti-Brotherhood victory, and while a journalists’ syndicate is often at loggerheads with the ruling authority, questions are looming about the syndicate's more general imperative of improving working conditions of journalists.

Friday’s elections results revealed victory for Diaa Rashwan, head of Al-Ahram Center for Political and Strategic studies, who won more than 50 percent of the vote — surpassing his closest competitor, Abdel Mohsen Salama, the managing editor of state-owned Al-Ahram newspaper. Rashwan, like many of the six candidates elected to the board, is referred to as an opposition journalist.

The results were seen as a Brotherhood failure not only to field their own candidates, but also to garner enough votes for candidates more neutral toward the group.

Even though he has no affiliation to the Brotherhood, Salama was seen as potentially more willing to comply with President Mohamed Morsy’s regime.

“Although there were no candidates for the regime explicitly, journalists consider the result a loss for the Brotherhood because of Rashwan’s victory. There is no doubt that he was not their preferred choice,” says Salah Eissa, a journalist and member of the Supreme Press Council.

Khaled al-Balshy of the leftist-leaning Al-Bedaya news website, who won one of the board seats, says although the two front-runners in the syndicate chief race were from the same state institution, the competition still symbolized tensions between the opposition and the administration.

“The competition is still between the government and the opposition, but not with the same intensity as before. Despite appearances, one candidate is at the edge of the opposition and the other is at the edge of the administration,” says Balshy.

This is not the Brotherhood’s first failed elections in the Journalists Syndicate. In the first elections after the 25 January revolution, four candidates whom the Brotherhood supported did not win a board seat.

Additionally, Mamdouh al-Wali, the outgoing syndicate head affiliated with the Brotherhood, proved unable to lead the board. Frequent arguments between him and his opponents created a political deadlock on the board, which necessitated early elections.

Eissa says that, because of the nature of the job, journalists tend to be more open-minded and critical, which is why it is a more difficult sector for Islamists to infiltrate or control.

Many journalists celebrated the results as a triumph in their battle against the government's attempts to limit press freedoms, especially in the wake of increased censorship during the Brotherhood’s rule.

Karem Mahmoud, who won a seat on the board last week, wrote in his column in Al-Tahrir newspaper that the results sent a strong message to the ruling party.

“Don’t come near journalism, journalists or their syndicate,” he wrote. “This is the strong, clear, bright, decisive and maybe even angry message that journalists sent to the ruling elites in Egypt through the general assembly held on Friday.”

Mahmoud says active journalists trusted by the syndicate will defend the group against “the vicious attack on media.”

In his inaugural speech, Rashwan said the results showed the syndicate’s resilience and determination to survive, despite tough conditions surrounding the elections.

Now the syndicate must engage in a battle for the industry's survival.

“We are not only fighting for our work. Not only are our dignity, livelihoods and freedom threatened, but also precious souls were taken from among us,” he said in a televised interview shortly before the elections, referring to incidents where journalists were beaten or killed reporting a protests and clashes.

Others on the board and within the journalist community agree that there are tough challenges ahead. They are hopeful that the newly elected board will be able to tackle them.

“This is the most critical period in the history of the syndicate,” says Undersecretary Gamal Fahmy. “It is fighting a ruling group that has now proven beyond doubt that it opposes freedoms.”

He adds that he is confident the new board will be able to win the battle.

Rashwan’s plan is based on a two-pronged approach: Push for legislative reforms that protect the freedom of the media and protect journalists from persecution as well as create additional resources for the syndicate to provide journalists with better wages and services.

He also wants to banish laws in the penal code that allow for jail terms for publishing crimes. He says the only crimes journalists can be charged over involve inciting sectarian strife and slander.

Additionally, he says, the biggest fight the syndicate will face is against the Constitution, which does not protect journalists and includes vague articles that could be used to restrain freedoms. After long debates, the assembly tasked with drafting the Constitution decided not to include an article banning jail terms for publishing crimes, leaving this for the law to regulate.

But Eissa says attempts to change the Constitution may not be realistic, arguing that the syndicate should focus instead on making sure the laws drafted don’t use loopholes to oppress journalists.

With his platform mainly dependent on legislative changes, the mostly opposition board will have to engage in negotiations with the government, which is currently controlling the legislative authority. This is possible, Eissa says.

“Even though they haven’t supported him, Rashwan has credit with the Brotherhood because of his past with them,” says Eissa.

During the Hosni Mubarak era, the leftist bloc — to which Rashwan belongs — and the Islamic bloc collaborated in previous syndicate elections, forming an opposition coalition that transcended ideologies. Rashwan sided with Islamic figures in many of their fights against oppression by the old regime.

Despite the Brotherhood and Rashwan having drifted into opposing sides, Eissa says this history of collaboration will provide the groundwork necessary for negotiations between the two sides.

Additionally, Eissa says, experienced figures will also recognize that they need to use all the cards available to them to improve working conditions for journalists in Egypt.

“There is harmony on the board that will allow for the distribution of roles between those who negotiate and those who pressure. Some will take a strict stance and others will start dialogue,” says Eissa, who adds that such harmony was missing from the previous board because of Wali’s bias toward the Brotherhood.

But beside the struggle with the ruling regime, Rashwan foresees other important functions for the syndicate.

Financial independence is one of them. Rashwan says he will pursue legislation to allow for different streams of funding solely dependent on the state budget. He suggests allocating 5 percent of advertising revenues from state publications to the syndicate, in addition to adding 2 percent to the cover price of state-run papers, also to be allocated for the syndicate.

Rashwan foresees the legalization of these revenue streams as a means to lower state control over the syndicate.

Meanwhile, the new head of the syndicate and other members of the board assert that their success depends on the involvement of the general assembly.

“The problem is that the general assembly elects the board as if it has elected an armed militia and puts it in the front line of the battle — then does nothing but criticize its performance,” says Eissa.

He adds that throughout the history of the syndicate, major gains were only made when the general assembly got involved and provided the board with a unified front that strengthened its position.

However, early signs are not favorable regarding the level of engagement of the general assembly. Although the board used to complain that the general assembly showed up on elections day and then disappeared, this time the lack of interest was apparent even on elections day.

Failing to reach a quorum of 50 percent of eligible voters, the elections were postponed for two weeks and held with a revised quorum of 25 percent of eligible voters.

Some say the low turnout indicates a diminished interest in syndicate politics in the absence of a fierce battle between two clearly identified blocs.

Others say the trend mirrors a larger political apathy in society.

However, with a new board largely celebrated in the journalists’ sphere and tough challenges ahead, journalists hope that this time the syndicate will focus on serving them and cease to be another stage for political quarrels.

“I hope that the press syndicate becomes more inclined toward serving journalists,” said Doreya al-Malatawy, journalist at state magazine Sabah al-Kheir, as she waited with her colleagues to cast her vote. “For years, each camp used it for its own interests — and it was never for journalists.”

This piece was originally published in Egypt Independent's weekly print edition.

Breaking the news mold: Egypt’s community media gains a much-needed voice

Miriam Berger — Sun, 17 Mar 2013 10:37:00 +0000

When major clashes in areas like Mansoura or Port Said break out, the Egyptian and international press descend upon the city for momentary coverage before retreating back to the capital.

At other times, events of a smaller scale often garner little, if any, media attention. But since the 2011 uprising, a new wave of community media has been trying to broaden the Cairo-centric cycle of Egyptian media through innovative local newspapers, Internet news sites, online radio and YouTube channels.

“There are so many stories to be told that are not told because of the centralized method with which we produce news in Egypt,” says Fatemah Farag, director of Welad Elbalad for Media Services, a media company she founded in 2011 to help develop localized, community-focused media.

“I think that the problem with local news in Egypt is not that people don’t want it, it’s just that it’s been [in the past] really bad. That’s what people don’t want,” she adds.

In fact, several mainstream newspapers have tried to produce local editions for their brands, but ended up closing these editions as they did not manage to attract readers.

Welad Elbalad for Media Services has so far set up weekly newspapers in Alexandria, Dishna, Mansoura, Fayoum, Nagaa Hammadi and Marsa Matrouh, with a paper coming to Beni Suef.

Reporting using different mediums from large cities such as Mansoura to rural areas such as Assiut and marginalized regions like Sinai, the leaders of these new community media initiatives are generally young, motivated and often working for free. They cite their work as part of the larger struggle to give a voice to the people in a revolutionizing Egypt.

Following decades of local media neglect and underdevelopment, these new initiatives also face an array of financial, legal, technical and conceptual challenges. They are also confronting traditional notions of journalism and media directionality.

Within the general mission to empower community media, some define themselves as professional journalists focused on the non-biased collection and dissemination of information. Others characterize their work using contemporary catchphrases such as citizen journalism and alternative media, pushing forward certain agendas or focusing on specific issues.

“Post-revolution, for many, [the growth of media outlets] is not seen as a problem because so many joined the field,” says Ali Shaath, whose organization, the Arab Digital Expression Foundation (ADEF), helps support alternative media initiatives.

“At the same time, it’s still young. We need to support not just the financial and technological aspects, but also the conceptual and the methodological aspects behind the media. The people are empowered, but not skilled,” he adds.

Different models

Some of these media outlets are completely independent and self-financed through personal savings, grants and local advertisements. Others, following the nonprofit journalism model, rely heavily on an affiliate NGO or media companies to keep them functioning.

Volunteers at these outlets hone their skills via training from media development organizations such as ADEF and Welad Elbalad, citizen journalist collectives like Mosireen, university classes — and trial and error.

“After the revolution, we wanted to make a radio [station] for underground music and issues specific to Alexandria,” explains Ahmed Abdelghani, one of the founders of Alexandria-based online radio site Radio Tram. “We felt that we needed our own platform for our voices to be heard.”

The Internet is a vital space for these initiatives. Radio Tram began broadcasting a year and a half ago via the Internet after Abdelghani found that an FM radio station was nearly impossible to attain. Similarly, printing licenses have typically been difficult to come by.

In addition to its coverage of alternative music and local issues, Abdelghani says the success of Radio Tram — which averages 17,000 unique visitors a day — is that it provides broadcasts in innovative and creative forms, with four different segments that focus on feminist issues, NGOs in Alexandria, sports and underground music.

“People want interaction,” he says. “They want to be part of the media. They want to trust it. Our listeners like what we do. We present in a new way so they can understand it differently.”

Presenters often coordinate their coverage to focus on an issue of local concern. Abdelghani says the crew once decided to dedicate each broadcast to the destruction of historic buildings in Alexandria.

While Radio Tram also relies on advertisements from newer businesses and startups in Alexandria, Abdelghani says long-term financing of alternative radio stations like his remain a big concern.

The newspapers connected with Welad Elbalad for Media Services take a different approach by trying to replicate a professional newspaper business model on a local level. Journalists at Welad Elbalad for Media Services’ newspapers are responsible for all parts of the development, production, and distribution of their weekly newspapers.

“It’s really a modern newsroom at a local level,” Farag says.

Copies of each paper are printed weekly in Cairo at Al-Ahram printing press, and distributed to the governorates from there. The papers cover an array of topics ranging from local protests to school concerns, from a community perspective. In their print forms, the stories are written with the local community in mind, rather than a national audience.

The newspapers generally sell well, which Farag says is a sign of the continuing demand for local news in communities where Internet penetration remains low.

But community newspapers have, in general, faced problems implementing their business model at the local level because of limited resources and confusing regulatory jurisdiction, Farag adds. Still, she continues, professional print papers with a multimedia web platform remain vital for local communities in Egypt.

That›s why Farag says the next stage for community newspapers is to develop websites so that those in Cairo and outside of Egypt can more easily access the local perspective. The websites are also part of the training provided by Welad Elbalad for professional and citizen journalists.

“Launching the websites is as much about developing the skills of local journalists in different mediums as it is about the target audience,” Farag says.

And hence the Internet becomes not only a space of possibility for community media, but also a vehicle through which the stories from these communities can make it on the national and international maps.

For example, Ayman Mohsen, a reporter from Sinai, started the Internet-based Sinai Now TV in January to “bring Sinai to the world and the world to Sinai.” It is part of Sinai Media Production, a large media network in the area.

Mohsen studied journalism at Sinai University and hopes his 10- to 15-minute segments about the people of Sinai will help the rest of Egypt stay more informed about this isolated peninsula.

A past and a future

The renewed focus on community and alternative media is, on the one hand, a product of Egypt’s political and digital revolution. But, long before the bloggers and activists of Tahrir Square had a notable online presence, Egypt had a legacy of a diverse and decentralized press.

In the decades before the 1930s, there existed a vibrant media scene. Independent newspapers, in both formal and colloquial Arabic, thrived, as did a vivacious and often-raucous literary, music and theater scene.

Fearing the drums of war in Europe, the British implemented harsh censorship rules in Egypt and effectively silenced indigenous media. No real revival thrived in the decade of nationalist unrest that followed.

In 1960, former President Gamal Abdel Nasser nationalized the Egyptian press, as part of his efforts to centralize control of the modern Egyptian state. For the next five decades, the legacy of alternative media in Egypt was effectively cut off from the people.

Since the revolution, armed with new media and Internet capabilities — the fight to be the first to disseminate information on one hand, and to control the flow of it on the other — is creating new spheres of media supply and demand from the national down to the local level.

Amid these shifting spheres, Shaath says, a main issue facing community journalism in Egypt today is the question of how to define their mission.

As part of this debate, Farag emphasizes the importance of distinguishing between professional journalists and media activists.

“Where are the dividing lines?” Farag asks. “It’s difficult to say.”

Farag explains that a community journalist is someone who follows the basic principles of journalistic writing, such as fact checking, abiding by journalism ethics, training in these skills, and receiving payment for their work.

“Activists have a point of view, but journalists are supposed to provide [only] the facts ... and it’s up to the people to come up with their own opinion,” Farag says.

The meaning of alternative media, Shaath says, generally denotes providing alternative information from mainstream or traditional media outlets controlled by government and corporate interests.

It can also be different in terms of how its information is collected, disseminated and consumed, and what financial and distribution models it uses.

Shaath stresses that, in a media environment where government and business interests have long controlled the construction and distribution of information, there is much that needs to be done to develop the notion of local media in an impactful way.

“Out of everything we have, nothing is yet sustainable,” Ali says. “Are people ready for a bottom up approach? We think so. But we are not sure.”

This piece was originally published in Egypt Independent's weekly print edition.

With poor economy and lack of political incentives, newspapers struggle to survive

Heba Afify — Thu, 21 Feb 2013 14:47:00 +0000

Over the last two years, the number of privately owned newspapers in Egypt has multiplied — but so also have the challenges they face.

Talk of cutting losses, increasing copy prices, shutting down publications and going from daily to weekly publication has started buzzing in the industry in recent weeks.

The newspaper industry is increasingly failing at satisfying public demand. Industry specialists identify three main shortages: innovation, sustainability and political will.

No innovation

“The revolution hasn’t changed the essential givens of journalism in Egypt,” says Wael Gamal, an economic journalist.

These givens, he says, entail serious structural and legal problems that are preventing the industry from developing, and causing financial problems for many publications.

Following the revolution, security barriers that limited the number of newspapers in the past were removed. Encouraged by the hike in privately-owned newspapers sales that occurred after the revolution, many investors jumped into the seemingly booming bandwagon.

Gamal says that more reliable coverage of revolution events by privately-owned newspapers knocked state-owned Al-Ahram from the lead, replacing it with privately-owned competitors Al-Masry Al-Youm and Al-Shorouk. The distribution of state-owned newspapers dropped in early 2011 as the public turned to papers like these with a renewed interest in general affairs provoked by the revolution.

Gamal says the curve went back down to pre-revolution distribution rates in the following months. But this time, the same number of readers was distributed over a larger number of newspapers, bringing the average distribution down.

Salah Eissa, journalist and former member of the Supreme Council for Journalism, says the newly found prominence that other media outlets gained after the revolution also took away from the market for newspapers.

“Social media, electronic media and talk shows represent big competition to print journalism,” says Eissa.

After the revolution, many turned to online social media as a reliable news source. And while newspapers used to be the main source of the information discussed in talk shows, the latter was transformed into a medium where political figures often announced their breaking news there first, and newspapers were forced to copy news secondhand from television.

Gamal blames a lack of innovation for the failure to open up new markets for newspapers.

“Everyone was creating the same product. They found newspapers succeeding, so they tried to recreate them without researching the project, while they should have tried to distinguish themselves by offering something new,” says Gamal.

As a result, the market was saturated. With statistics putting newspaper buyers in Egypt at about 1.5 million, Gamal says that instead of exploring new markets, new publications competed with their predecessors for the same clientele.

Amr Elhamy, a managing director in an investment group involved in the publishing business, says the element of exclusivity and scarcity that pushed the sales of privately-owned newspapers before the revolution is not there anymore.

“All papers print more or less the same thing. There’s an abundance of privately owned newspapers,” he says. “The feeling that this paper will tell me something that no other paper will is not there anymore, because there’s an increased margin of freedom for all papers.”

Meanwhile, increasingly narrow segments of society see themselves serviced by print media.

“The journalism industry is practically controlled by two sides, the state through state-owned media and businessmen through privately owned media,” says Gamal.

No alternative models have thrived, such as charity-based newspapers, which renowned projects such as the UK’s Guardian newspaper are based on. The state has not been up to the challenge.

“When a paper is owned by a businessman, the state can control it by threatening to close a business here or helping him close a deal there, but if there is no owner who can be pressured, the paper will be beyond the control of the state,” says Gamal.

With private papers primarily funded by advertisements, he says the business world also often forces newspapers into toeing an editorial line. He says those who attempt different editorial lines or even a different presentation are forced out of the business.

A case in point is Al-Badeel daily, which went bankrupt in 2009 as the business world cut off advertisements because of its leftist direction and focus on business corruption.

There are three agencies that mediate between newspapers and advertisers. Having few options, newspapers are forced to conform to the demands of these agencies.

Describing the agencies mostly conservative, Gamal says they discourage newspapers from experimenting with anything outside the common format adopted in Egypt. He says their editorial interference includes objecting to stories against corporations or even demanding to change the content of the paper.

Among untapped markets that could expand the newspaper business, Gamal mentions local newspapers for governorates and specialized newspapers catering to niche markets. However, the legal restrictions on issuing papers interfere with that, he says.

According to the law, a minimum capital outlay of LE5 million is required to start a daily newspaper. The sum should be deposited in full in a bank before the paper starts publication.

“It’s irrational for an investor to put LE5 million into a newspaper to publish it in Minya, for example. There won’t be enough circulation,” Gamal says.

The large capital outlay pushes investors to cater to the general public, rather than tapping into niche markets.

“The industry won’t move forward until the structure is changed and new investors are introduced. As long as we’re stuck in this cycle of a million and a half buyers and fighting for them, this will weaken the sector,” says Gamal.

No sustainability

Besides the lack of specialization and innovation, the business-model all privately-owned papers follow contributes to their financial difficulties, experts say.

Most privately-owned newspapers depend on state newspapers’ printing and distribution facilities, which puts them under the mercy of their public sector competitors.

With few exceptions, most publications print in the print houses owned by state-owned media institutions Al-Ahram, Al-Akhbar and Al-Gomhurriya.

“If Al-Ahram puts itself first in terms of the timing of printing, for example, there is nothing that the other publications can do, because they have no other options,” says Gamal.

As for distribution, the only distribution company that has a wide reach is owned by Al-Ahram.

Elhamy says Al-Ahram, handling both distribution and printing, halts the business of other publications if their distribution increases to the point where they are perceived as a competitive threat.

He adds that public sector print houses often run a printing operation that is not cost effective, since they are not compelled to make a profit as they have other sources of revenue. Privately-owned papers are thus forced to sustain this extra cost.

“The public sector print houses have unlimited budgets, they continuously sustain operational losses but they will never go out of business, so they’re not worried about the costs,” says Elhamy.

According to a distribution manager at a daily newspaper, because of the printing costs, all papers sell their copies at a loss, hoping to compensate for this through increased advertisements.

He says the magical equation for newspapers to become profitable is having a small number of pages, high circulation and enough advertisements, which is not feasible in the current conditions.

The most that newspapers achieve if they sell enough advertisements and have a low number of returns is to cover their expenses, he adds.

With most of the material used in the paper industry imported, such as the paper, ink and printing machines, the devaluation of the Egyptian pound has also substantially increased the expenses of the papers.

Unlike state newspapers, which rely on printing and distribution businesses for profit, privately-owned newspapers rely entirely on advertisements.

Due to the economic crisis Egypt has endured over the past two years, advertisements have decreased considerably.

“Newspapers went into business and made their calculations based on the information that was accurate at the time — that there was a multimillion dollar advertisement business that could sustain new publications. However, because of the economic crisis, the advertisements are in stagnation,” says Eissa.

No political incentive

As the newspaper sector has yet to become enticing in terms of profits, it is rarely attempted by lone pioneers. In most cases, it is moguls in other industries who decide to start a newspaper.

“For many, it seems to be a project aiming to service their other projects, and it also helps serve their economic interests,” says Eissa.

As the corruption of the old regime began to be uncovered following the revolution, it was revealed that many business figures close to the regime were able to close deals through the pressure of owning an opposition paper. With a new Islamist ruling elite, however, the political power of a newspaper is not proving as lucrative.

“There is no strategic importance in owning a newspaper anymore. Now it is a business and it will be required to generate profits,” says Elhamy.

However, Eissa says that while the direct political use of newspapers may have diminished, investors still have a vested interest in having portals to defend certain ideals.

“There is an awareness among investors that defending general freedoms and resisting the return of dictatorship or the establishment of a religious state is an interest they share with a wide sector of the public that believes in liberal ideals,” says Eissa, arguing that attacks on freedoms can harm the other business interests of investors.

This piece was originally published in Egypt Independent's weekly print edition.

English-language media play a vital role in telling Egypt’s story

Dalia Rabie — Tue, 19 Feb 2013 10:29:00 +0000

On Sunday, former editor-in-chief of Ahram Online Hani Shukrallah, bid his final farewell to the organization, after a series of measures by the Brotherhood-administered media institution that chipped away at his authority along with his salary, arguably aimed at silencing English-speaking media.

“The deed is done: the MB has now fulfilled its resolve to drive me out of Ahram,” Shukrallah posted on his Facebook page, explaining that he hung on after decisions to cut his salary in half, force him into early retirement and cut the remaining half of his salary by two-thirds.

“Just today I found out that in a meeting with a committee formed by Ahram Online staff to negotiate with the management, they were told that my status was ‘too complicated,’ and that (despite previous denials that it'd all been a bureaucratic mistake) the third of one half would remain in place, while my connection with Ahram Online would depend on the wishes of the new editor (who's yet to be named),” Shukrallah wrote.

Ahram Onlne, an English-language news portal launched in 2010, is part of the state-owned Ahram Institution.

He explained he was leaving the institution with “zero savings,” and would have to sell his car to pay back Ahram what he owes.

“But fools! I have something immeasurably more precious: my dignity and self-respect. What do you have?”

Local English-language media continues to face political and economic blows as it struggles to survive in an Arabic-speaking country.

Nonetheless, although grossly outnumbered by Arabic counterparts, local English-language media can sometimes have more influence in terms of readership and the topics tackled. While expats constitute a large portion of their audience, these outlets act as a vital resource for diplomats, policymakers and think tanks, both in Egypt and abroad.

Almost 50 percent of the traffic on English news websites comes from outside of Egypt. For Abdel-Rahman Hussein, who has worked as a reporter for Daily News Egypt, Egypt Independent and as a foreign correspondent for The Guardian, Egypt’s local English-speaking media is the most vital source of news.

“It manages to avoid the pitfalls of both the Arabic and foreign press, while offering a depth rarely afforded in the other two,” he explains. With a few exceptions, he finds local English-language media to be “the complete package,” offering in-depth news with a nuanced understanding of the political, social and cultural contexts.

“It also tends to portray the most accurate narrative of events on the ground, not the pastiche-laden narrative ubiquitous in the Arabic press, nor the nonchalant narrative processed through a different prism that is sometimes found in the international media,” he adds.

But despite its local and global importance, independent English news outlets in Egypt face numerous obstacles, in particular, the lack of a sustainable business model.

Economic and political hardships

In 1996, prominent publisher Hisham Kassem launched the now-defunct independent English-language magazine Cairo Times. He recalls a conversation with a major advertiser who told him that a full-page ad in the Cairo Times, which only printed 5,000 copies, had more reach than one in the state-owned daily Al-Ahram.

Rania Al Malky, former editor-in-chief of Daily News Egypt, says Cairo Times was a “unique experiment” that boldly tackled taboo topics. “It came out during a time when it was impossible to say what they were saying and impossible to speak to the people they were speaking to,” she says.

English-speaking local media were the first to cover human rights violations under former President Hosni Mubarak. These outlets were also credited for highlighting labor movements and workers’ rights, topics long absent in other mediums.

Kassem recognizes the need for local English media to thrive, but says it depends on feasibility. “There is state-owned media and there’s the private sector,” Kassem says. “The private sector is dependent on the economy, which is why Daily News Egypt closed down.”

In April, seven years after its conception, the Daily News Egypt staff were abruptly informed that the paper would no longer be printing for economic reasons. After the staff was let go, the brand was later sold to a local investor, and it started printing again.

Economic hardships were also the reason behind Cairo Time’s demise, but with a political twist. The magazine never shied away from criticizing Mubarak’s regime, but ultimately lost its showdown with the censors.

“It came to a point where I was verbally banned to print in Egypt,” Kassem says. He would fly to Cyprus and return with the copies as cargo. “We would print and they would confiscate,” he says.

This tug of war continued until the powers-that-be shifted their attention to advertisers, and, Kassem says, starting threatening them. This took a toll on revenue, and after seven years of printing, Cairo Times announced its bankruptcy.

Nonetheless, Kassem is confident that these repressive practices will not be repeated with post-25 January media. “Even with all the Muslim Brotherhood’s absurdity,” he says, “if they tried to tighten their grip on the media, they won’t succeed.”

Kassem says the Brotherhood was able to force Shukrallah out of Ahram Online because it is still considered state-owned media. “But what can they do with publications like Egypt Independent, for instance?” he asks.

While even state-owned English-language media enjoy a greater degree of freedom of expression than their Arabic counterparts, they’re still vulnerable to some restrictions, says Rasha Sadek, reporter at Al-Ahram Weekly.

Under Mubarak, this was true “especially when it came to ... incidents of torture practiced by the interior ministry, and other human rights violations,” Sadek says.

She cites an incident where an award-winning report uncovering torture inside prisons cost the editor-in-chief his job at a newspaper she preferred to leave unnamed. A National Democratic Party member subsequently replaced the editor, she says, and this was how the regime maintained its grip on media.

After the revolution, Sadek says, English local media managed to remove more red lines, but “how long it can maintain this margin of freedom is anyone’s guess.”

That is not to say that President Mohamed Morsy and the Brotherhood are not concerned about their image abroad, even more so than Mubarak. Unlike Mubarak, however, the Brotherhood does not understand the dimensions of the international scene, Kassem says.

“I’ve been through it all ... and I can say that things are opening up,” he continues, explaining that with social media and blogging, “even technology alone has defeated censorship.”

Local vs. foreign media

Local publications’ survival also depends on whether they can face the competition. “Local English-speaking media is like a luxury item no one wants to invest in,” Malky says, explaining it faces fierce competition from international media, whose level of interest and coverage of Egypt has skyrocketed since the revolution.

While Malky acknowledges the necessity of offering expats, diplomats and policymakers this kind of content, she says it is increasingly becoming available on several platforms, chipping away at local media’s niche market.

“We want to give readers a nuanced news perspective from a local point of view in English — this need hasn’t changed, but there’s a lot more competition,” she says.

Kassem considers local independent English news outlets a better resource for readers who seek to understand Egypt than The New York Times, for instance. “Local journalists know the country inside and out. They have more credit,” he says.

For David Kenner, associate editor at Foreign Policy, it is also an issue of trust. He explains that problems faced by foreign and local media are different, adding that foreign reporters often face the problem of “access.”

“It can be difficult to reach certain groups or parts of the country that an Egyptian journalist might be able to contact easily. This is partially due to trust — a foreign reporter, of course, is always vulnerable to being the target of smears that they’re a spy.”

Nonetheless, he admits that it also comes down to “knowledge.”

For Sadek, local English media has an edge because it is “locally made.” It requires, she says, “a certain degree of understanding of the mechanisms and dynamics of Egyptian society and culture to be able to accurately report on certain events. Without this, foreign reports can often be misleading,” she says.

Kenner says that local reporters, on the other hand, are more vulnerable politically. “They’re not distant observers of Egypt’s political scene, but engaged every day in the drama of their country’s political life,” he says.

And although English-speaking local media is becoming difficult to sustain, Kassem says it still maintains a higher professional level than Arabic media.

Malky also sees this discrepancy, pinpointing a difference in the newsrooms culture. “Arabic press has become more partisan, as opposed to its English counterpart, which is more professional in covering stories,” she says.

Hussein also believes English-language media is less prone to hyperbole and more likely to be accurate. But for it to survive, Malky says, it needs to create an edge by focusing on investigative journalism, which is not prevalent in Arabic media.

This piece appears in Egypt Independent's weekly print edition.