In his moving conversation with Dr.Dounia Mahlouly and Dr. Loreley Hahn-Herrera, Wael al-Dahdouh reminded his audience that the boundaries of journalism are collapsing in the face of genocide. On the one hand, the acts of remembering and bearing witness become existential for survivors. On the other hand, the ethical implications of journalism extend far beyond the profession itself, challenging audiences in their role as passive observers by appealing to their very sense of humanity.

Journalism in the context of genocide unsettles normative expectations of impartiality, shifting the focus towards our collective failure to assist in the deliberate and systematic killing of men, women and children. How can impartiality remain ethical in such cases? What is the cost of a passive, distanced objectivity? It does not need such an event to see and to document what Israel has consistently tried to unsee and undocument Gaza and its people. And it does not need such an event to address Israel’s now publicisised deliberate targeting and killing of Palestinian journalists and content creators who have been providing livestreamed coverage of the ongoing genocide since it started.

As discussed worldwide, Israel’s genocide is the deadliest for journalists, with about 248 journalists killed since the war in Gaza began on October 7, 2023, according to data from Reporters Sans Frontières. Independent analysis by Al- Jazeera reveals that at least 278 journalists and media workers have been killed by Israel, all of whom had been the only voices reporting on the war from the battlefield. Since the genocide began, Israel has barred entry to international journalists.

Under international law, journalists are protected civilians, yet, as the Committee for the Protection of Journalists has reported, Israel is “engaging in the deadliest and most deliberate effort to kill and silence journalists that CPJ has ever documented”. According to the CPJ and other organisations, the killing is part of a pattern of misinformation – along with other cases where slain journalists have been labelled as Hamas fighters or operatives – and is without credibility. “Palestinian journalists are being threatened, directly targeted, and murdered by Israeli forces, and are arbitrarily detained and tortured in retaliation for their work. By silencing the press – those who document and bear witness – Israel is silencing the war,” the CPJ has reported.

The deliberate practice of targeting and killing Palestinian journalists is not new. In 11 May 2022, Palestinian journalist Shireen abu Akleh was killed while covering an Israeli raid on the Jenin refugee camp though she was wearing a helmet and a clearly marked press vest, an act that the Al Jazeera Media Network condemned as a “cold-blooded assassination.” The practice goes back decades. In fact, since its creation, Israel has targeted Palestinian knowledge producers to silence them as part of its epistemic violence against Palestinians. One of the most famous Palestinians killed is the journalist, writer and intellectual Ghassan Kanafani, who was assassinated by the Israeli Mossad (secret service) in Beirut in July 1972.

Wael al-Dahdouh’s journalistic integrity, courage, and sacrifice compel us to confront this reality, urging us to reflect on our shared responsibility and to recognise our potential agency—beyond the institutional limits of journalism as a profession and practice. At the Department of Media Studies at SOAS, we problematise media production and consumption and critically address the different and creative practices marginalized and colonized people use to resist their silencing, particularly through digital media platforms. We are wary, as other critical scholars are, of Western-centric and supported knowledge that denies rights and that persists in policies and politics of exclusion.

Compiled by Dounia Mahlouly, Dina Matar and Loreley Hahn-Herera

 Lilato Madiri

Since 2017, I have been working in community management, building digital networks and nurtured spaces for brands across various industries—engaging people at the intersection of culture, communication, activism, and commercialisation.

Looking back now, this involvement gave me first-hand experience of how digital media and online communities were reimagining the structures of voice, visibility, and power. But something kept tugging at me: a desire to ground what I was doing in a broader global and historical context—especially as we’ve been living through such wild, historic, and culture-shifting times.

I returned to academia because I truly believed we were experiencing a turning point. In my view, the West was finally waking up to the realities that the global majority and its diaspora have long known. That kind of collective rupture—particularly the heartbreak of 2020 and the Black Lives Matter movement—created a sense of urgency. As a Zimbabwean woman in the diaspora, I needed tools not just to react to what was happening, but to understand it, name it, and imagine alternatives. Because for the most part, I am an optimist.

If I was going back to study, it had to be at one place and one place only. I didn’t want to study media through a Western lens—so it was a clear yes to SOAS.

Why Studying Media Now Matters More Than Ever

We’re in a media moment like no other. TikTok, clickbait headlines, AI-generated misinformation, “bros” with podcasts, Patreon, streaming—everything is contested, and everything is up for grabs. Media literacy can no longer be optional. It must be foundational—taught early, taught often, and taught critically.

Media power and resistance have always been intertwined. Look at who gets silenced and who gets platformed, and you’ll understand a society’s politics. If media is censored, so is dissent. If media is open, so is the path to liberation. That’s why media scholars can’t stay in their silos. We need to come online, create content, share knowledge, and meet people where they already are—on screens.

We are living through a profound media shift—one that is not only technological but also ideological, emotional, and political. The stories we tell, the platforms we use, and the voices we hear (or don’t hear) are all up for negotiation. In such a moment, studying media isn’t just relevant—it’s essential.

Today, the vast majority of people access news through social media platforms. TikTok, Instagram Reels, and short-form videos are overtaking traditional outlets in reach, particularly among younger generations. But this shift isn’t just about format. It marks a deep change in how people encounter truth, how attention is engineered, and how narratives are manipulated.

What used to be the domain of media professionals—fact-checking, source evaluation, long-form analysis—is now interwoven with entertainment, algorithms, and virality. We’re not just reading the news; we’re swiping past it. We’re laughing, crying, and scrolling through global crises without time to pause. And increasingly, even traditional outlets are adapting to these logics, employing clickbait headlines, meme aesthetics, and reactive content to stay visible.

Meanwhile, the rise of AI has introduced an even more insidious complication: what happens when you can’t trust that what you’re seeing even happened? With deepfakes, manipulated clips, and AI-generated “news,” the boundaries between real and fabricated are blurred. Context collapses. Memory becomes malleable. And in this state of confusion, disinformation flourishes.

This is why media literacy must become a priority—not just in universities, but in everyday life. We need critical media education that teaches not just how to use media, but why it matters who creates it, who funds it, and who benefits from its circulation. That kind of education cannot begin too early or be too widely available.

As a media student, especially one grounded in decolonial perspectives, I’ve come to see that power operates not only through what we are allowed to see, but through the frameworks we are taught to interpret it. That’s why I care deeply about the intersection of media, memory, and marginality. In a digital world moving at relentless speed, memory is at risk. And when memory fades, so does accountability.

The danger isn’t just forgetting the past—it’s letting someone else rewrite it. A truth and pain many around the world know too well.

When you grow up diasporic, like I did, you often live with fractured narratives: songs you remember that your siblings don’t, political events that feel personal but are unarchived, cultural touchpoints that mean everything in one space but are unintelligible in another. That’s what digital media has the power to do at scale—offer fragmented timelines where people experience the same event in entirely different ways. It’s not just about fake news. It’s about fractured truth.

This is where media and resistance intersect.

Studying media through a critical lens helped me understand that censorship, silencing, and propaganda are not just things that happen “elsewhere.” They’re baked into the architecture of media itself—into what gets funded, whose stories get algorithmically boosted, and whose pain gets turned into content.

If media reflects a society’s politics, then a society with restrictive, polarised, or manipulated media is likely experiencing the same at a governmental level. Media doesn’t just reflect the state—it often prefigures it.

So we, as students and scholars, have a responsibility. We can’t afford to stay holed up in academic institutions writing essays no one reads. If media is going digital, then scholarship must follow. We need critical voices—those with training, context, and care—to enter the public arena and meet people where they are. Education, especially in media, cannot be gatekept any longer.

I would love to see more of my professors online, offering short videos or open-access resources. I want institutions like SOAS to extend their critical frameworks to wider audiences. There is a real hunger for context, for analysis, for nuance—and right now, much of that space is being filled by influencers with opinions, not scholars with experience. And that has consequences.

Social media has given us the illusion that everyone’s voice holds equal weight. But a loud voice is not the same as an informed one. The most dangerous thing about the current media climate isn’t disagreement—it’s when misinformation is wrapped in confidence and sold as fact.

There are so many accessible courses on how to go viral or how to profit from being online—but very few about how to understand media systems themselves. That’s why studying media now is about more than understanding content creation or communication strategies. It’s about understanding how power works. It’s about who gets to shape the collective memory of this moment, and how we resist attempts to erase, distort, or silence it.

This work isn’t optional. It’s survival.

What’s Next: On Diaspora, Memory, and Decolonial Media

In my Masters dissertation, I explore gatekeeping as a decolonial practice in digital diasporic media. I looked at how BIPOC creators are resisting platform invisibility – building new models for community, care, and content on their own terms.

What I’ve come to believe deeply is that memory is fragile, and the pace of digital media can erase it before it even settles. We’re living side by side with people who remember the same events differently—or not at all—because of the digital timelines they inhabit. So the work of archiving, of documenting, of resisting forgetting, has never been more urgent.

I want to be part of a media practice that holds memory—across generations, across platforms. And studying media at this critical juncture has made that not only part of my awareness, but part of my responsibility.

Why SOAS

When I came to SOAS, I didn’t have a specific end goal in mind. I came for the experience, the exposure, the language to understand the world differently. I came for the vibes—and I wasn’t disappointed.

Studying as a postgraduate is a unique experience. I cherished the generational and cultural differences within my cohort, even though I wish there had been more bonding across groups. I think that was partly shaped by timetabling and the split between home and international students. But I found connection through other spaces.

The SOAS Feminist Society helped me find a sense of community when I felt isolated. I also appreciated how my research—centred on diasporic voices—was not something I had to justify. It mattered by default. The environment made that possible. It wasn’t an echo chamber—race, religion, class, and gender all still played a role—but it was a place where people genuinely cared.

To anyone considering SOAS, I say: do it. Be bold. Be open. Read widely. Think critically. And go all in.

If I had to describe my year at SOAS in one word?
Unfurling—a slow, radical untethering into something freer.

Bio

Lilato Madiri is pursuing an MA in Global Media and Digital Communications at SOAS. Zimbabwean born, raised and based in the UK, she is passionate about diasporic media, decolonial storytelling, and digital community-building. Outside of her studies she is a Freelance Community Manager, and building NHAKA – a new-gen beauty space rooted in heritage and culture. 

Amidst a substantial economic crisis and preparations for a presidential election scheduled for December 2023, the Egyptian state was primarily focused on cultivating a favourable image of its primary candidate while suppressing potential contenders that posed a threat to its power. This strategic manoeuvre aimed to facilitate President El-Sisi’s pursuit of a third term in office. However, the sudden events that unfolded in the Middle East on October 7, 2023, particularly due to Egypt’s geographical proximity to Gaza and the complex political dynamics with Hamas since 2013, thrust the country into a multifaceted predicament. Consequently, Egypt found itself grappling with conflicting pressures. On one hand, certain international proposals suggested the displacement of Palestinians from Gaza to Sinai, while public sentiment demanded political and humanitarian support for the Palestinian cause.

The unexpected circumstances in Gaza placed significant strain on the Egyptian regime, profoundly affecting both its domestic and international media communications. This article delves into the scrutiny and analysis of the media discourse of the Egyptian state, as exemplified by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Presidency, and state-owned media. It specifically explores the regime’s opportunity to construct a narrative that would ensure its continuity merely two months prior to the presidential elections. Additionally, this essay examines the influence exerted by regional and international media coverage on the official discourse of the state, along with its impact on Egyptian public sentiment.

Presidential elections, War on Gaza, and State media discourse

Amidst escalating Israeli assaults on Gaza, Egypt’s response reflects a critical stance amid mounting public outrage, navigating a delicate communication strategy amid the imminent presidential elections, highlighting the complexity and sensitivity of the situation. This multifaceted response, channelled through various platforms including the Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MFA), President Abdel Fattah El-Sisi, and state-owned media, is tailored to cater to distinct stakeholders, showcasing a nuanced approach to addressing local and regional circumstances.

The MFA press statement on October 7, 2023, was perceived as inadequate by the Egyptian public, as it failed to meet their expectations. However, during his address to the UN Security Council on October 24, 2023, the Egyptian foreign minister, Sameh Shoukry, reiterated previously held positions with a stronger emphasis. Shoukry underscored that the current situation is a result of continuous attempts to seize land and alter geography, emphasising that Palestinians will stay on their land while Egypt opposes any displacement efforts. Additionally, he demanded international protection for Palestinians, the prompt delivery of humanitarian aid, and the establishment of a binding framework based on international legitimacy to resolve the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

The statements delivered at the United Nations on October 27, 2023, by the Egyptian Foreign Ministry representative, Osama Abd El-Khalek, resembled a decisive penalty against the adversary, marking the first instance in a decade where such unequivocal language was employed. The representative emphatically declared, “Enough is enough, what is happening to the people of Palestine is too much to bear“, while criticising those who vociferously champion human rights while neglecting the fundamental right to life. Furthermore, he insinuated that their justifications for the continuation of the war made them complicit in the witnessed atrocities.

In contrast, President Abdel Fattah Al-Sisi’s statements were evidently directed towards the international community, with the aim of clarifying Egypt’s stance on both the Palestinian resistance and proposals advocating the displacement of Palestinians from Gaza. During his speech at the Cairo summit on October 21, 2023, President Al-Sisi emphasised that the Palestinian cause cannot be resolved without a just solution, underscoring that this resolution should not come at Egypt’s expense. While in his meeting with the German Chancellor Olaf Scholz, he proposed the relocation of Palestinians to the Negev Desert until Israel had effectively neutralised resistance forces. Notably, he took a firm stance by categorising the resistance as terrorism, contending that relocating Palestinians to Sinai would transform the peninsula into a terrorist base for attacks against Israel. This position aligns with the perspective of the occupying state and garners support from various Western countries like the US, UK, and Germany. 

Moreover, it is consistent with Egypt’s approach towards Hamas since 2013, even after May 2017 when Hamas announced its detachment from the Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood and defined itself as a liberation and resistance movement. Al-Sisi regime continues to consider Hamas as a threat to Egypt’s national security and this stance has been consistently propagated through state media.

As a result, Al-Sisi’s characterisation of the resistance as terrorism and his proposal that indirectly accepts an unjust resolution of the Palestinian cause raises questions about Egypt’s commitment to upholding justice and the rights of the Palestinian people. This stance also underscores the significant influence of geopolitical considerations in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, as it plays a pivotal role in shaping and prioritising Egypt’s international political and economic interests.

On the other hand, Al-Sisi appeared to leverage the regional situation to bolster his diminishing domestic popularity, particularly in the wake of economic inflation that impacts Egyptians across various social classes. On October 20, 2023, Al-Sisi orchestrated a comprehensive media campaign to rally support for Gaza and urged the Egyptian population to participate in demonstrations, granting him the authority to take necessary measures to safeguard Egyptian national security. However, this strategy primarily aimed not to exert diplomatic pressure on behalf of the Palestinian cause but rather to regain waning popularity by employing a familiar strategy previously used in 2014. Its purpose was to amplify the feelings of fear among the Egyptian populace while projecting Al-Sisi as their sole saviour. Nevertheless, it became evident that the Egyptian people’s anger towards the unfolding events in Gaza and their diminishing confidence in the decision-making processes and regional orientations of the Egyptian state led the demonstrations on October 20 to deviate from Al-Sisi’s intended purpose. Once the protesters incorporated chants reminiscent of the January Revolution and made it clear that the protests did not confer a mandate to any specific entity, swift measures were taken to disband the demonstrations and promptly evacuate the squares. This effectively prevented a recurrence of such scenes to date.

When examining state discourse, it is essential to analyse the interplay between the regime’s orientations and their influence on state-owned media. In the case of Egypt, the coverage provided by local media outlets served as a convergence point for the narratives presented by both the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the President. However, the predominant focus of the media was on Egypt’s role, as well as that of the President, within the regional and international dimensions of the Gaza conflict. Moreover, the media strategically emphasised the perceived threats facing Egypt while employing rhetoric to advocate for the re-election of President Sisi as a means of safeguarding the country’s stability.

To provide an overview, United Media Service (UMS), under the control of Egyptian intelligence, wields significant influence over television channels, press institutions, and artistic productions. Since its establishment, United Media Services has exercised complete control over visual, audio, and print media discourse and content, ensuring alignment with the regime’s approach and interests. Furthermore, independent media entities like Mada Masr, as well as international human rights organisations such as Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch, have faced website blockades in Egypt since 2017. Additionally, systematic media campaigns have been employed to distort the image of these institutions, reflecting the regime’s ongoing efforts to control information and shape the discourse directed at the majority of Egyptians.

During the Gaza conflict, which coincided with the Egyptian presidential elections, state-owned media outlets, represented by prominent figures such as Ahmed Moussa, Nashat Al-Daihi, and Muhammad Al-Baz, were diligent in adopting the discourse of the Egyptian Foreign Ministry, condemning the violence against civilians in Gaza. Some of these figures employed strong language in their condemnation and Cairo News Channel also expressed clear support for the Palestinian cause. However, these state-owned entities simultaneously highlighted the role of the President in conducting regional and international negotiations and mediations to resolve the crisis in Gaza. They employed various means to instil fear among Egyptians, discussing international attempts to pressure Egypt into accepting Palestinians in Sinai. These efforts aimed to portray the President as a supporter of the Palestinian cause by emphasising his refusal to displace Palestinians from their land. Concurrently, they sought to depict him as the saviour and primary protector of Egypt against any danger. Media and journalists echoed sentiments, underlining the Egyptian state’s rejection, as articulated by the President, of offers and international pressure, frequently employing phrases like “Sinai as a red line” to reinforce this stance. 

As such, state-media narratives, influential figures, and renowned media outlets adeptly balanced the absorption and occasional exploitation of Egyptian anger while appeasing the international community’s pro-Israel stance. Although initially a complex equation, this approach proved to be an effective strategy for successfully navigating the presidential elections.

Geopolitics and International and regional media influence

Moreover, it is crucial to consider the influence of Gulf media on the media discourse directed towards Egyptians, as it reveals notable discrepancies and varying popular responses to these discourses. On one hand, we observe the Saudi-Emirati wing’s speech, which condemned Hamas’ attack on the occupying state on October 7, 2023, and primarily focused on providing material support for humanitarian aid to the people of Gaza. On the other hand, Qatar exhibited clear support for the Palestinian cause, actively engaging in political and humanitarian efforts to resolve the crisis.

The impact of Saudi media on Egyptian public opinion is exemplified by MBC Egypt, particularly through the Al-Hekaya program hosted by Egyptian journalist Amr Adib. Amr Adib is a prominent and widely viewed media figure in Egypt and the Arab world. He is known for his accessible language, catering to a broad audience. During his coverage of the Gaza war, Amr Adib adopted a strategy similar to other Egyptian media professionals associated with state media. Initially, he expressed enthusiastic support for the Palestinian cause, strongly condemning the occupying state’s violence against civilians. However, his media coverage oscillated between emotional and pragmatic tones, consistently highlighting both the Egyptian and Saudi roles in political negotiations and material support aimed at resolving the humanitarian crisis in Gaza. A comparison can be drawn to Amr Adib’s previous involvement during the 2008 Gaza War when he hosted the Al-Qahera Al-Youm program on the Orbit Channels Network. At that time, he actively collected live humanitarian donations from viewers across the Arab world to support Gaza’s humanitarian situation. It is worth noting that this effort was politically accepted by Mubarak’s regime and other Arab regimes at the time. This illustrates the consistency of Amr Adib’s approach and alignment with governmental and regional discourses during times of crisis. Consequently, he remains the most frequently employed media figure in shaping media messages concerning the domestic and regional political landscape.

During the ongoing conflict in Gaza, Al Jazeera has once again emerged as a prominent media source influencing the Egyptian population, becoming a significant news outlet after October 7, 2023. Undoubtedly, the Al Jazeera network represents the Qatari stance in supporting the Palestinian cause. Despite concerted efforts by the Egyptian regime to undermine Al Jazeera through systematic media campaigns, restrictions on their operations within Egypt, website blocking, and broadcast interruptions since the rise of the Sisi regime in 2013, the war in Gaza has reinstated Al Jazeera as the most influential media coverage in Egypt. They perceived their correspondents as true heroes who fearlessly conveyed the painful reality, while finding their interviewees holding opinions and positions detached from political balances or the influence of specific states or leaders. The coverage solely focused on highlighting the suffering of the Palestinian people.

On an international level, it is noteworthy that the American-British-European media axis exerts significant influence on the media discourse of the Egyptian state. Although the Egyptian media does not adopt a discourse that explicitly supports or promotes the narratives of the occupying state, it tends to align with a discourse that perceives the Palestinian resistance as a key factor in the current situation in Gaza. This discourse signifies a novel development in the Egyptian political stance on the Palestinian issue since the 1948 Nakba. Popularly, the media coverage of BBC and CNN has been provocative to Egyptians. This sentiment was clearly demonstrated when Egyptian activist Rahma Zein confronted a CNN correspondent at the Rafah crossing, accusing their coverage of bias and unprofessionalism.

On the other hand, the Russian axis has expressed its support for the Palestinian cause since the outbreak of the war, calling for a ceasefire and the establishment of humanitarian corridors for the people of Gaza. The Arabic coverage provided by the Russia Today network represented the Russian position, which condemned the occupying state. However, despite its alignment with popular discourse, the coverage of Russia Today channels did not receive significant attention from the Egyptian public, and the Russian political and media position did not exert any notable influence on the Egyptian media discourse.

In summary, the Egyptian presidential elections concluded successfully, resulting in the re-election of President Sisi for a third term. Despite the challenging economic and regional circumstances surrounding Egypt, the state’s media discourses effectively managed this sensitive situation, particularly on an international scale. However, at the local level, the situation in Gaza continues to impact the sentiments of Egyptians and may contribute to their lack of interest or abstention from the presidential elections. Despite attempts to appease the Egyptian population through emotional speeches and strong condemnations of the events in Gaza, the official political and humanitarian positions did not satisfy the Egyptian public. Instead, there was a more enthusiastic response from the people, manifested through their prompt financial support for delivering humanitarian aid to Gaza and their widespread boycott campaign against foreign products supporting the occupying state or Western countries involved in financing the war on Gaza.

It is important to note that since 2011, the Palestinian issue has been largely absent from the minds of Egyptians. The offensive discourse on Hamas propagated by the local media has played a significant role in diminishing Egyptians’ engagement with the situation in Gaza and may have impacted their level of sympathy for the Palestinians. However, the current situation represents a notable shift, as no direct media discourse has been able to influence the Egyptians’ sympathy, which could be a concerning matter for the Egyptian regime in its present state.

In conclusion, the Palestinian cause remains an enduring aspect of Egypt’s challenges, encompassing both the state’s policies. Throughout different political regimes and over time, the Palestinian cause has been utilised to disseminate nationalist messages, as well as to emphasise Egypt’s regional and international role.

Russian sources have gained visibility thanks to a partnership between Egypt’s largest national newspaper Al Ahram and the Russian news agency Sputnik. In addition, the content produced by the regional channel of Russia’s international news network, RT Arabic, is circulated via popular news applications such as ‘Nabdapp’, which delivers information based on users’ preferences and topics of interest. Additional platforms like RTarab.com (روسيا بالعربية) have been active since 2015 to advertise Russia’s perspective on regional and international news. These platforms gain significant traction from related social media accounts like the @Rt_araby Twitter profile (21,935 followers), which was created by an external Egyptian party on the month of Ukraine’s invasion (February 2022). Such related social media profiles (e.g. @Rt_araby) have a suspicious frequency of posts that would suggest inauthentic (i.e. automated) behaviour.

The salience of these Russian sources in the Egyptian media landscape is effectively shaping public opinion in favour of Russia, while promoting a logic of state authoritarianism that is equally profitable to the military regime. A number of Egyptian social media accounts have shared expressions of patriotism, posting images of Putin alongside the president. Sisi’s supporters are also publishing sarcastic comments about Zelenskyy, referring to Ukraine as an agent of Western imperialism. In contrast, Putin and Sisi are both perceived and described as charismatic father figures sharing a common nationalist ideology. One Twitter bio reads: “Long live Sisi’s Egypt, Putin’s Russia and Trump’s America”.  

But why is Russia’s rhetoric so successful amongst Sisi’s supporters? A framing analysis of RT Arabic and Sputnik news stories reveals that Russia is capitalising on news topics highlighting a divide between Western governments and regional audiences. Three recurrent themes stand out from the coverage of these news networks. The first prominent theme relates to Palestine, commonly referred to as a symbol of anti-colonial struggle in the region. Related news stories allow RT to appropriate experiences of Palestinian resistance, using similar rhetorical devices as Hezbollah to gain the sympathy of the pro-Palestinian audience. This media frame allows Russia to position itself as an ally of the Palestinian community, while condemning the disengagement of Western media. The second news topic identified pertains to the priorities of Western policymakers with regards to immigration and the ongoing conflict in Ukraine. As such, it alludes to the double standards in Europe’s approach to refugees and the fact that Ukraine ranks higher than other international conflicts on the agenda of Western governments. Finally, the news frames of RT Arabic evoke a sense of reactionary nostalgia for pan-Arabism, calling for solidarity amongst all Arab nations and their leaders supposedly united against a common Western oppressor. This enables Russia to legitimate its relations with the Syrian regime, while promoting its ties with other military powers in North Africa (i.e. Egypt and Algeria). Through this lens, Russia is represented as a defender of the nation state and an alternative to Western imperialism.

Thanks to this framing, Putin has gained popularity amongst Sisi’s supporters. The appeal of Russia’s narratives on social media in fact suggests that Egypt’s state-owned media are effectively supporting Moscow’s communication strategy, significantly expanding its reach in the region. However, Russia’s reactionary rhetoric is only beneficial to Sisi insofar as it helps him discredit the progressive values of the civil opposition. Beyond these considerations, his contribution to Russia’s media operatives is very ironic. Indeed, some of the media frames promoted by Moscow both compete and overlap with the narrative of pan-Islamist resistance that once made the success of the Muslim Brotherhood.  The themes of pro-Palestinian resistance and the idea of a common struggle against the Western coloniser in fact still resonates with the rhetoric of the Islamist opposition. This stands out from the coverage of online news channels affiliated with the Brotherhood like EgyptWindow.net (نافذة مصر). The news platform remained active posting content on various social media accounts, engaging a large audience of followers by featuring catchy infographics, occasionally reporting on the conflict in Ukraine. The convergence of media frames between such affiliated media and Russian sources shows that populists from across the political spectrum have applied the same discursive techniques. Along with the Egyptian military, these actors are exploiting legitimate feelings of injustice about Western foreign policy towards the Middle East, and genuine anxieties about the economic uncertainties of the country.  

In Western neoliberal democracies, the case of right-wing populism in fact demonstrated that domestic political actors may capitalise on such a polarised environment to promote their anti-establishment rhetoric. This allowed a number of reactionary populists to portray themselves as the advocate of a subversive counter-culture, by framing their conservative agenda as a kind of radical anti-conformism. In this context, communication experts have called for the implementation of tighter media regulations and a recentralisation of the public debate. Accordingly, the emphasis is often placed on the importance of fact-checking and the need to restore public faith in expert knowledge and professional journalism (Ball, 2017; Pomerantsev, 2019). However, this approach is often limited to the vantage point of the Global North insofar as it relies on the Eurocentric model of the public sphere, where public deliberation was historically dominated by an intellectual elite. As such, it tends to overlook the importance of peripheral communication networks in the Global South. Indeed, this perspective often disregards the emancipatory potential that these alternative channels can have in highly centralised and state-controlled media markets. Yet peripheral communication networks are often crucial to civil society engagement in the Global South, as they act as a means of expression for minority voices. Empirical research also demonstrates that they contribute to rebuild and maintain community trust and resilience in times of crisis and in the absence of social welfare (Houtson et al, 2015). In light of this, it appears that a critical and counter-intuitive approach is perhaps better suited when it comes to advise policy responses to disinformation in the Global South.

Besides the argument of recentralisation, the ongoing conflict in Ukraine recently diverted attention away from domestic disinformation to focus on the threats associated with foreign actors. This new Cold War recently pushed the debate on disinformation a step further into the realm of global and national security. Under the banner of national security, disinformation has been conveniently invoked across the Global South to legitimise a process of securitisation of the public space. In these cases, the security lens that underpins policy responses to disinformation follows the same approach as in the prevention of hate speech and extremist content. Yet this approach is often modelled on the experience of Western neoliberal democracies and eventually reapplied in contexts, where the national media market is already highly centralised. The case of Germany’s Network Enforcement Act (NetzDG) is a striking example. The policy was initially designed to limit far-right content by enforcing stricter censorship against hate speech, but soon exported to other countries, where its implementation has dramatic consequences for freedom of expression. Empirical research points to a number of Global South countries like Kenya, the Philippines, Malaysia, and Vietnam amongst others (Machangama and Fiss, 2019), where there is very little transparency around the prohibition of disinformation. As is the case for hate speech and extremist content, the legal and conceptual definitions of the term remain problematically vague. Despite the lack of agreed upon terminology, ‘disinformation’ is often applied as a generic term to question the trustworthiness of peripheral (i.e. unregulated) networks of communication. The case of Egypt perfectly exemplifies this point.

Egypt’s legal framework around fake news (or ‘false information’) shows that this concept can be easily weaponised by dominant political actors who seek to justify their monopoly over the national media market. Most importantly, it reveals that the imperative of countering disinformation can be used to reassert the agenda national security, at the expense of pluralism and freedom of expression. In 2018, President Sisi passed a new ‘cybercrime’ legislation allowing a court to block any website deemed a threat to the state. The new law exposed content providers to ‘jail terms of up to five years and fines ranging between 10,000 and 20 million Egyptian pounds’. The law even extended the scope of these penalties to users, who may have unintentionally accessed websites banned for threatening the country’s economic interests and national security. The same year, the Egyptian parliament passed another law, subjecting social media accounts with more than 5,000 followers to prosecution if they were to publish false news. In line with the rhetoric of the Trump administration, the Egyptian government intended to tackle the issue of disinformation as part of its broader project of Internet securitization. Without providing any clear definition of ‘fake news’, the bill reserved all powers to implement the law to the Supreme Council for the Administration of the Media. ‘Fake news’ was weaponized to repress civil activists like the women’s rights advocate Amal Fathy, who was arrested in May 2018 for posting a Facebook video holding the government accountable for the issue of sexual harassment (Amnesty International, 2018). In this case the charges included ‘spreading false news’, ‘harming national interest’ and incitement to terrorism (Michaelson, 2018). This only intensified in the recent context of the global pandemic, which further legitimized the implementation of tighter mechanisms of control and surveillance over local information channels. In 2020, EuroMed Rights released a report stating that opportunities for social media activism were continuously shrinking:

The narrative behind eliminating coronavirus fake news became a new Trojan horse to further curtail the space for independent voices. Arrests for social media posts are frequent, and while repression was already the norm, the current circumstances have rendered it more concerning as ‘the government is simply using this COVID-19 situation to do whatever they please’. (EuroMed Rights, 2020: 2–3)

The country experienced a peak of Covid-19 cases between March and June 2020, during which activists and journalists were arrested and accused of spreading misinformation detrimental to the management of the health crisis. They were charged on the basis of the laws on Anti-Cybercrimes (2018) and Anti-terrorism (Ifex, 2021).

In spite of this alleged crackdown on disinformation, the Egyptian Supreme Council of Press has welcomed strategic communication partnerships with Russian stakeholders interested in developing their reach and media operatives in North Africa. In 2018, the largest state-owned newspaper Al Ahram signed a protocol with the Russian state-owned news agency Sputnik. Following the announcement of this agreement, the Egyptian media outlet populated news stories produced by the Russian agency, spreading disinformation designed to increase revenues thanks to misleading sensationalist headlines. Prior to this, Al Ahram Foundation had indulged in Russian-style populism with the aim to discredit the civil opposition. The media contributed to frame the 2011 uprisings as a foreign plot by quoting Wikileaks documents alleging the involvement of the U.S State Department in a 2009 plan intended to support the mobilisation of opposition forces.

Whilst claiming to proactively fight disinformation, the military regime indulged in a nationalist state-propaganda that resonates with – and is conducive to – Russian populist rhetoric. This political discourse feeds into a general feeling of disillusionment with the liberal values traditionally perceived as an emblem of Western neoliberalism. By claiming to fight disinformation with disinformation, Sisi demonstrates that the legal and conceptual definition of this concept is relative to the political context (Mejia et al. 2018). Ironically, the term ‘disinformation’ was initially invoked to restore a feeling of trust and certainty, by conjuring a sense of absolute and verifiable truth (Pomerantsev, 2016; 2019). The Egyptian case however demonstrates that the terminology around ‘fake news’, which is currently applied in policy and practice may be reappropriated to serve different political agendas.

References:

Ball, J., 2017. Post-Truth: How Bullshit Conquered the World. London: Biteback.

Bennett, W. L. and Livingston, S., 2018. The Disinformation Order: Disruptive Communication and the Decline of Democratic Institutions. European Journal of Communication, 33(2), pp. 122–39.

EuroMed Rights, 2020. Dangerous Liaisons: Social Media as a (Flawed) Tool of Resistance in Egypt. September. Available at: https://euromedrights.org/wp-content/ uploads/2020/09/Study_on_social_media_in_Egypt.pdf [Accessed: 22 May 2022]

Houston, J. B., Spialek, M. L., Cox, J., Greenwood, M. M. and First, J., 2015. The Centrality of Communication and Media in Fostering Community Resilience: A Framework for Assessment and Intervention. American Behavioral Scientist, 59, pp. 270–83.

Ifex, 2021. Egypt: Fake News and Coronavirus Trials. 31 March. Available at: https:// ifex.org/egypt-fake-news-and-coronavirus-trials/ [Accessed: 22 May 2022].

Kramer, B., 2018. Populism, Media and the Form of Society. Communication Theory.

Communication Theory, 28, pp. 444–65.

Masood, A. and Nisar, M., 2020. Speaking out: A Postcolonial Critique of the Academic Discourse on Far-Right Populism. 020, 27(1), pp. 162–73.

Mejia, R., Beckermann, K. and Sullivan, C., 2018. White Lies: A Racial History of the

(Post)Truth. Communication and Critical/Cultural Studies, 15(2), pp. 109–26.

Mchangama, J. and Fiss, J. 2019, The Digital Berlin Wall: How Germany (Accidentally) Created a Prototype for Global Online Censorship, Justitia. Available AT: https://justitia-int.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/11/Analyse_The-Digital-Berlin-Wall-How-Germany-Accidentally-Created-a-Prototype-for-Global-Online-Censorship.pdf [Accessed: 28.03.2023]

Pomerantsev, P., 2016. Why We’re Post-Fact. Granta. Online Edition. 20 July.

Pomerantsev, P., 2019. This Is Not Propaganda. London: Faber and Faber.

The ongoing public controversy around the use of Spotify by podcast host Joe Rogan to spread misinformation and false claims about Covid vaccines has sparked fresh concerns about the role of Big Tech in spreading misinformation and fake news, the assumed power these networks have in changing or influencing social and political attitudes and the need to regulate their content. The controversy escalated last week as several high-profile celebrities, including legend musicians Neil Young and Joni Mitchell, boycotted the streaming platform. The move marked a significant development that had not been seen in the cases of tech giants Facebook and Twitter which also hosted inaccurate information about the pandemic, vaccines and global politics.

The moral panic around misinformation in the context of the pandemic is not new, but it has re-focused attention on what regulatory frameworks governments can and should impose on tech giants to monitor content and what the latter should do to control speech online and detect misinformation – not what they need to do to protect free speech. In the UK, the government has been keen to expand the speech-policing role of tech companies, imposing a legal duty on them in the Online Safety Bill, which is designed to monitor how corporate promises are fulfilled and ensure providers are accountable for their actions. The bill also makes provision for a regulator, such as Ofcom, that will scrutinise providers’ performance and reporting.

In Europe, politicians and competition authorities had already signalled a tougher stand against these platforms, while in the US last year, legal scholars discussed what is called ‘common carriage regulation’ to pressure prominent social media companies to treat all content equally. One of the critical features of so-called common carriers is that they are seen as neutral conduits of communication or goods and, as such, they do not see themselves as content producers. However, far from being neutral carriers of information, Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, Tumblr, TikTok and other social media platforms are not neutral carriers of content, but actively curate content through algorithms for financial profit. In the case of Spotify, the firm owns the content because they paid Rogan for the exclusive rights of the podcast. As such, they are already functioning as a publisher and provider of content and not as a mere carrier.

The debates around misinformation are often rooted in Western-centric value systems that seem out of sync with reality and that do not take into account who has access to content, who can pay for content and who can afford to pay their way out of agreements. What remains forgotten in these debates and others around who should regulate social media content is the business model that underpins the function of tech giants and social media platforms. Scholars Nick Couldry and Dipayan Ghosh noted in a report https://www.hks.harvard.edu/centers/mrcbg/publications/awp/awp155 that this model, which they call the “consumer internet”, is based on online interactions that are managed principally for profit. In fact, the model, as they write, is built on data collection from users to generate behavioural profiles, sophisticated algorithms that curate the content targeted at each user and the encouragement of engaging – even addictive – content on platforms to hold the user’s attention to the exclusion of rivals. The problem is not only that platforms and their executives make huge profits, but that these platforms reconfigure the flow of social information to suit a business model which basically treats all content suppliers the same.

Discussions of content, of course, cannot ignore the drive towards more data, which has other serious consequences of interference in personal privacy and which is a necessary feature of platform capitalism. As Shoshana Zuboff suggests in her book Surveillance Capitalism the fact that platforms require more and more data to make profits in a capitalist ecology means that there is an intrinsic drive for these companies to be pushing up against the limits of what we presently consider the private realm, and determining what counts as free speech or not. 

Critical reflections on the role of the tech giants have often focused on discussing them as social, political and cultural actors – the uproar over Spotify and misinformation is the most recent example – and yet, as Nick Srnicek wrote in the Progressive Policy Think Tank “this common approach to these firms obscures the fact that they are first and foremost economic actors. Not only that; they are economic actors operating within a capitalist economy – a type of economy that imparts specific demands upon firms. By taking this into account, and by looking at platforms as a new business model within capitalism, we can come to illuminate some of the more mysterious activities of these firms” ( https://www.ippr.org/juncture-item/the-challenges-of-platform-capitalism).

[1] Dina Matar is Professor of Political Communication and Arab Media, Centre for Global Media and Communication, SOAS

Dina Matar, Centre for Global Media and Communication[1]

The highly publicized incidents of virulent British racial abuse against young black football players following the defeat of the English team in the Euro 2020 championship at the weekend, and reactions to these abuses, are not new. Indeed, in February this year, online racist abuse also aimed at Black football players provoked a similar wave of condemnation across the board. As then, there have been renewed demands that tech platforms, such as Facebook and Twitter, improve regulations of content or face more regulation that would make them legally responsible for the online safety of their users and accountable for abusive content. However, would regulating tech giants be the solution to systemic structural racism that has for long permeated key British institutions such as the police, the educational system, and the media?

        Almost 50 years ago, in 1972, the BBC undertook what might be now called self-regulatory measures to ensure more equitable access, inclusivity and representation on its programmes and various platforms. It initiated an ‘Open Door’ series in a bid to make TV accessible for marginalized audiences in the UK while delegating editorial control to representatives of these communities. The move came half a century after the founder of the BBC John Reith instructed Station Directors in major cities including London, Manchester, Birmingham, Cardiff and Glasgow that: ‘It should be an honour in every sense of the word for a man to speak from any broadcasting station and only those who have a claim to be heard above their fellows (..) should be put on the programmes.’ Reith’s dangerous assumption was that good communication could only be produced by traditionally skilled and educated staff, thus excluding the majority of the people on the margins of society. In 1999, the Macpherson Inquiry into institutional racism led to unprecedented scrutiny of public and private institutions and their race equality policies following the murder of black British teenager Stephen Lawrence. The inquiry, like #BlackLivesMatter movement today, put race on the public agenda and brought about an increased visibility in non-White media personnel.

         The role of media in the normalization of societal attitudes to difference and race was most potently discussed in cultural critical Stuart Hall’s writing and in his short 1979 documentary “It Ain’t Half Racist, Mum.” He showed how popular comedy shows, documentaries and current affairs programmes have historically been complicit in the normalization of racism because of the consistent representation of Black and Asian communities as unprofessional, uncollegial, subordinate and disloyal. It Ain’t Half Racist, Mum also revealed much about the industrial context of the BBC in the late 1970s and the use of humour to disseminate racist attitudes across the nation, fuelling unrest in Britain’s growing multi-ethnic society and ‘moral panics’ around race and difference. Moral panics can sometimes provide the basis for the construction of popular authoritarian ideologies, which can be legitimized through new regulations. At the end of his final 1994 Harvard lecture, which concludes the book, The Fateful Triangle, Hall called upon theorists to refuse accepted truths about the conditions of our political existence: ‘The task of theory in relation to the new cultural politics of difference is not to think as we always did, keeping the faith by trying to hold the terrain together through an act of impulsive will, but to learn to think differently’ (Hall 2017: 174).

          Hall pushed us to think and act differently about the problem of race, or at least place us on the path toward doing so, but his insights and lessons still face difficulties in taking root in political and cultural life. While movements such as Black Lives Matter have made their way into the public discourse, serious critiques of race remain marginalized from the public sphere, for the most part. As such, the question about whether more stringent regulation of tech giants would work becomes important. It is no doubt needed. But it also risks becoming an imperfect regulatory tool and an excuse for power elites that they have done everything possible to combat racism, thereby justifying a lack of more far-reaching policies and measures to tackle structural racism. Ultimately, the specificity of British racism must be addressed as a pivotal element of the British social formation that is deeply embedded in institutional practices and ongoing discourses. The English football team and its manager showed what a different approach might look like, but even this approach could not overcome how those young and talented black football players were ‘seen’ and talked about, in the cruellest of ways, as flawed.  Yet, as long as we live in a society where race and class divides matter and are reinforced by a combination of neo-liberal dynamics of marginalisation and populist ‘culture wars’, the appalling racist abuse is set to repeat itself unless the structural factors underpinning it are called out and acted upon. If race is a systemic problem, a systemic solution is called for.

[1] Thanks to Dr. Lutz Oette for his contribution

image credit: “File:Mohammad Javad Zarif 2014.jpg” by Bundesministerium für Europa, Integration und Äusseres is licensed under CC BY 2.0

The story of the popularity of the audio chatroom app. Clubhouse, in the Middle East seems to follow a well-trodden route – the platform is launched in the region and elsewhere; the app is quickly taken up by users eager to talk about anything- from what to wear in Zoom calls to discussions of taboo topics, such as honour killings in Egypt to sexual identities in Iraq; the app is blocked by some authorities in the region, citing different reasons including unspecified threats to national interests. For example, in Oman, the app was banned for not having a “proper license;” In the United Arab Emirates, people have internet throttling which made them wary of posting sensitive material; in Egypt, state television reported the application is a place for “terrorists” to gather—referring to the banned Muslim Brotherhood; in Saudi Arabia, users have reported intimidation in chatrooms and in Iran, conversations have been screen-recorded and posted on Twitter.
Clubhouse is a buzzy social-media audio-only app that was launched last year at the height of the global Covid-19 pandemic. It relies on verbal communication, a more effective and intimate mode of communication than other social media applications, such as Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, particularly in societies where language and story-telling matter. Since its launch, it has gone viral in the United States, Europe, China, and Japan. In the Middle East, more than 970,000 people have downloaded the platform since it launched outside the US in January, reaching about 6.1 percent of the 15.9 million global downloads. Within the region, Saudi Arabia ranks at number seven globally for the invitation-only downloads, with over 660,000 downloads, just after Thailand, according to San Francisco-based mobile app analytics firm Sensor Tower. Given the way the app functions (users open chatrooms for discussions), Saudi nationals have used chatrooms to discuss who could replace their aging king instead of his ambitious son, Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman. They have also reportedly argued with Egyptians over what they considered democracy and with Lebanese and Jordanians over their kingdom’s perceived meddling in their affairs.
In Turkey, student protestors opposing President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s appointment of a ruling party loyalist as rector of Boğaziçi University used Clubhouse to express their anger. In Jordan, minutes after reports of an attempted coup in Jordan at the beginning of April, Jordanians inside and outside the country congregated in a room to share information on the confusing reports released and controlled by the government. In Lebanon, users created rooms to debate the deteriorating political landscape, the role of Lebanon’s powerful Hezbollah group in state politics and private banks in the economic meltdown — with bankers in the room. In another room, Iraqis — mainly exiles — criticized how their country’s many religious militias impacted their lives. In a room discussing the war in Syria, opposition activists organised a spoof interview with someone posing as President Bashar Assad. In Iran, a member of the ruling elites, a women’s rights activist, and a hacker all joined a discussion centred around whether or not the hijab should remain mandatory in Iran. Last week, Iran’s Foreign Minister Mohammad Javad Zarif made an unannounced appearance in a virtual conversation on the audio-chat app in which he addressed a range of topics, including the recent agreement with China, Iran-US relations, and the June presidential elections.
However, along with socially and politically controversial issues, many rooms host people talking about the latest fashion, what to wear, which social media influencer to follow or just having fun beyond socio-political and socio-cultural restrictions people face in the public.
The popularity of the app in the Middle East has attracted the attention of Western media including the Economist in the UK, with some commentaries making comparisons with the 2011 Arab protests when thousands of activists turned to Twitter and Facebook to contest political power and demand more voice in constrained public spaces. As then, commentators emphasised the potential of (Western) social media platforms for change and for democratisation in the region, debates that are underpinned by tired old Euro-centric exceptional narratives about the region and the capacity of the region’s populations to change, ignoring the long histories of organised and unorganised activism in diverse cultural platforms. The optimistic view of new technologies and the opportunities they bring cannot be discounted, particularly when considering ease of access, how they are used, by whom and in which situations. However, what needs to be challenged are the views that Western technologies are engines for change, a view that offers a limited and largely deterministic approach to media power while neglecting the agency of those who use them. What should also be challenged is the focus on the present and the here and now, a tendency in much of the debates about the role of media that tends to ignore histories of media use and adoption of different new media and technologies in the region, such as writing, print, graffiti, radio, film and photography, by diverse populations, including marginal groups. What needs to be discussed is whether new actors, new publics and new modes of participation emerge as new platforms are adopted and adapted, and whether and how these actors and publics can shift political cultures, and entrenched power.