The past two weeks have seen several media-related incidents that have sparked debate and raised questions about the concept of freedom in Egypt. This freedom seems to oscillate between sporadic leaps forward and abrupt reversals to square one with the stroke of a political pen. Ibrahim Eissa, Amr Adib, and Alaa Sadek, along with channels such as al-Hafiz, al-Nas, al-Seha wal-Jamal, and Khalijia, all had their ‘media plugs’ pulled in this short span, regardless of whether the stated reasons were public or private.
By the end of last week, the government took another step along the path of plug-pulling. The National Telecommunication Regulatory Authority demanded that officials from nine channels secure the approval of the Egyptian Radio and Television Union to either maintain or move their satellite news gathering (SNG) units. Notably, channel officials, when seeking approval, were asked to relocate these units to permanent offices at the Media Production City as a primary condition to receive frequencies enabling signal transmission to and from Egypt.
Some might wonder: why now? Investors in satellite channels have, for nearly a decade, repeatedly called for the regulation of the industry and the reform of its chaotic and primitive frameworks, which rely on outdated rules governed by the Union.
The timing of this move might seem obvious: the upcoming elections require a degree of calm that the government is keen to maintain. Most of those affected by this new policy are loud, uncompromising voices known for their perpetual hysteria. But does the government not fear backlash from international organisations, which are always eager to pounce on such bold moves?
Perhaps not. A careful look at changes over the past decade reveals a new reality. A decade ago, this critical article would not have seen the light of day. True, progress is slow—one step forward, two steps back—but dissenting voices remain relentless. Human rights reports continue to criticise government performance despite incremental or superficial advances in freedoms. Ironically, this slight loosening of restrictions has allowed critics to raise their voices even louder, creating a cacophony of opinions. The political stage in Egypt now resembles a chaotic microbus stop, with everyone shouting their destination without coordinating with others or reflecting on what has been achieved and what remains unaccomplished.
This shouting has become so normalised that it barely stands out. The approaching parliamentary elections and the current sensitivity of the government’s grip on power—already under fire from many dissenting voices—only heighten the stakes. Whether the government takes a step forward or back on the freedom scale, it seems inevitable that it would resort to pulling the plug. After all, it holds the plug. Perhaps everyone has forgotten that Nilesat is a government-controlled satellite and that the Egyptian Radio and Television Union remains the state’s gateway to shaping public opinion and steering public discourse. Indeed, it is strange to witness so many continue shouting, oblivious to the fact that they are merely a physical phenomenon that can be silenced with a single decisive pull of the plug by those who control it.
This article is originally published by AlBorsa in Arabic and later AI-translated by South Push.