Egypt's media undergo their own revolution

It was a front page few thought they would ever see. After weeks of dismissing pro-change Egyptian protesters as traitors, anarchists and malevolent foreign agents – at one point it was even suggested that demonstrators were secretly receiving free meals from the American fast-food giant KFC – the country's most venerable official daily carried a single headline in the heady hours after Hosni Mubarak's fall. The people have brought down the regime, declared Al-Ahram, triumphantly. As one newspaper vendor remarked, state-controlled media's own revolution had begun.

But discontent at the status quo within Egypt's colossal state media complex – which comprises eight TV channels, numerous radio stations, dozens of newspapers and magazines and 46,000 employees in Cairo alone – had been rumbling long before Mubarak's resignation. Grievances against Egypt's government-appointed paper editors and broadcast network chiefs – often ageing regime acolytes parachuted in – have been stewing for years, as has internal disillusion with an entity notorious for corruption scandals, compromises of editorial integrity and an institutional aversion to reform.

Jaw-dropping videos

It is only now though, in the aftermath of the president's departure, that these frustrations are erupting messily into the open. Jaw-dropping videos are circulating of state TV bosses being chased out of their offices, writers at state newspapers are striking, and age-old bastions of regime propaganda are improbably restyling themselves as cheerleaders of radical change. Amid the turmoil, many are asking whether, as the new, post-Mubarak Egypt takes shape, state media will have a long-term role to play.

"The great revolution in Tahrir Square that brought down the president has given rise to small revolutions in every Egyptian institution, including the media," says Abdel Latif Al Manawy, the Egyptian state media's head of news. Over the past week Al Manawy has required the protection of the army to save him from the wrath of underlings, who accuse him of fabricating news and spreading propaganda to discredit the revolution in its early days – a charge Al Manawy denies.

He rejects any suggestion that his channels are facing an existential crisis. "I believe public media will always be there, as long as we serve the public," he says. "The form and content will change, but we will always be the eyes of the public and its connection to the state."

Others are not so sure. Following a tumultuous 18 days of street protests that saw Al Manawy's channels first ignore massive anti-government demonstrations, then pump out relentless pro-Mubarak propaganda, before finally switching sides as the ruling clique began to crumble – while tanks held back irate crowds from his downtown Cairo studios – there is a growing consensus among Egyptian media experts that state broadcasters and papers are facing an uncertain future.

"There is a genuine desire for root and branch reform inside government media institutions as Egypt enters a new era, but I think it's too late," says Nailah Hamdy, a journalism professor at the American University in Cairo. "These outlets have lost their credibility completely owing to their initial anti-revolution bias and you can't regain your audience overnight. It wasn't one errant report, or a single misquote; this was the creation of a completely parallel reality. The last time that happened was during the 1967 war, and those that were alive then still don't trust the state media to this day." Hamdy adds: "We're going to see major political alterations in the coming months, and that means altering the media landscape as well. In a democracy I can't imagine that there will be any role to play for state TV channels or official newspapers which take diktats from a Ministry of Information; they will have to look to other models, such as BBC-style public broadcasting, to survive."

With unparalleled levels of penetration into every corner of Egyptian society, state media has long played a critical role in shaping public discourse within the Arab world's most populous nation. It was therefore no surprise that, as a dictator was toppled, the media outlets found themselves stuck between pro-democracy activists and the old regime.

This was not just a physical skirmish, and nor was it merely an ideological struggle between two opposing visions of Egypt's political future. As communication blackouts cut Egypt off from the world and crowds rallying in Tahrir Square set fire to bundles of government newspapers, the nature of news dissemination itself was at stake. Here was a system built around the top-down distribution of information, pitted against a plethora of digital, collaborative networks from below. The latter emerged victorious.

"To a large extent, the contest of wills between a spontaneous, grassroots movement and an entrenched authoritarian regime became a battle of words and images, in which issues of national authenticity were paramount and modes of communication vital," says the Cairo-based reporter Ursula Lindsey. "Who could legitimately claim to speak for Egypt? Who could not?"

Now, as a transitional army-led government takes the reins of power, state media employees are asking themselves that same question – and taking much-needed reform into their own hands in an attempt to recover a legitimate voice for themselves. Internal purges are under way; many hope that structural reform will follow. "Corruption is so deeply entrenched in these buildings, and so much money has been squandered," claims Shahira Amin, a former deputy head of the state-run Nile TV news channel, who resigned at the start of the demonstrations. "I liken it to a carpet that needs to have the dust thoroughly beaten out, not just lightly swept, and unless that happens then nothing can really change."

Family connections

Amin is planning to deliver a list of proposed media reforms to the military's representatives in Maspero, the state broadcasting headquarters, which includes changes to journalist training programmes and a shakeup of recruitment policy. "Under my watch I saw so many good people being sent away because they were too good. They would have embarrassed other under-qualified employees who only secured their jobs through family connections," she says.

Lina Attalah, the managing editor of the independent Egyptian news outlet Al Masry Al Youm – expected to benefit if media liberalisation intensifies under a future democratic government – believes the changes have to go further, including less regulation.

"We're experiencing post-revolution euphoria right now, but soon we'll have to engage with a broader campaign which looks at media organisation on the level of the laws, the professional syndicate, everything," she says. "If this doesn't happen then I don't see much of a bright future for the media beyond the honeymoon we are going through now."

An early test of state media's long-term prospects in Egypt will be its coverage of the interim administration and the Supreme Military Council guiding the country's transition. So far little criticism of the armed forces has emerged – an unsurprising development in a state where the army is venerated for its exploits in three post-independence wars with Israel, but one that concerns some observers.

Attalah says that "traditional self-censorship" is ensuring that state media coverage of the army remains positive. Hamdy agrees: "I doubt the army is giving direct orders to the media; the situation is too chaotic right now for control like that to be filtering down. But you have a situation where the majority of Egyptians view the army as their saviours, and these media employees are also Egyptians, so that sentiment is reflected in their coverage."

Once the transitional period is over, the challenges to state media are likely to involve a fundamental restructuring of how news is gathered and distributed. "After the next elections, I don't think you'll find a Ministry of Information in Egypt; it's not compatible with a genuinely free democracy," says Mervat Al Kaffas, the head of Nile TV.

That is a cause for optimism, says Hamdy, who believes there is no reason why state media cannot thrive in the form of an editorially independent public service institution. "People talk about the state media changing sides in the middle of the revolution, but the reality was that the revolution simply shifted the power dynamic. Within these institutions pro-government forces lost control and the media professionals were able to reassert themselves."

Whatever the post-Mubarak world of state media looks like, there is no doubt that, for now at least, it will retain a sizeable audience. "There are millions of people who can't afford satellite connections and who still have only terrestrial TV, so demand for that output will remain," says Lindsey. "[State media] has been a huge strategic and national security asset – Maspero was protected as heavily as the presidential palace during the revolution – and that is not going to change overnight."