Jon Weinberg is a staff writer at the Harvard International Review.
On February 12, 2008, information ministers from the 22 member states of the Arab League met in Cairo to discuss the issue of censorship. The result of the meeting was a charter for a decidedly paternalistic regional media code that would allow host countries to annul or suspend the license of any broadcaster found in violation of its rules. The document further stipulated that satellite networks must not damage "national unity," that programming should "conform with the religious and ethical values of Arab society," and that it should refrain from impugning God or the various sects of Islam. Qatar and Lebanon, which have traditionally maintained the most open presses in the region, were the only two countries to oppose the charter. Yet if either or both countries choose to restrict journalistic freedoms to appease their neighbors, they will effectively make the charter's application universal. These new developments serve as a severe reminder of the profound fragility of press freedoms in the Arab world.
Press restrictions are by no means novel in the region, although they have been less severe on satellite television. For decades most Arab countries were notorious for permitting only state-sponsored and state-approved television. But now, there are more than 200 Arabic-language satellite channels. Since its first appearance in the region in 1991, satellite television has surpassed its traditional state-run counterparts to become the primary source of information in the Middle East and North Africa. While none of the more popular stations are wholly independent from ties to their host countries, a few have escaped their host countries' historically stringent censorship.
With the advent of the Cairo charter, however, an uncertain future lies ahead for such stations. Most prominent among these is Al Jazeera, which boasts a viewership of 40 million and a reputation for professionalism throughout the Arab and Muslim worlds. Nevertheless, since its launch in 1996, the Qatar-based Arabic satellite television network has received extraordinarily harsh criticism from within the Arab world and outside it. Islamic groups denounce the network for its coverage of religiously and culturally taboo issues, and the US government condemns the network for airing tapes of terrorists beheading foreigners in Iraq.
Yet at the same time, Al Jazeera has received praise worldwide for its relatively non-partisan news coverage, as well as its willingness to address subjects that other Arabic news outlets typically avoid. For instance, few if any other major Arabic stations have interviewed Israeli citizens about their country's political decisions.
Until recently, those sympathetic to Al Jazeera celebrated the network's commitment to openness as its greatest asset. However, throughout early 2008, Al Jazeera and other Arabic news outlets came under increasing pressure to censor their content in order to meet their patron states' standards of acceptable reporting. Stations that rely on local rulers for funding felt these pressures deeply. Al Jazeera, for instance, was founded with a five-year, US$150 million grant from the Emir of Qatar, Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al-Thani, with the aim of full financial independence by 2001. Seven years later, the network still receives financial support from the Emir. This pattern is not unique to Al Jazeera. The network's closest rival, Al Arabiya, was launched in 2003 with a US$300 million investment from Saudi-linked investors. Because these stations rely so heavily on local rulers for funding, their journalistic freedom is contingent upon good relations with the local state-hence Al Jazeera's relative silence on issues relating to Qatari domestic affairs and foreign policy. Should states like Qatar that once tolerated or even encouraged provocative news coverage yield to regional and extra-regional pressure to censor their news stations, they will have effectively ended their decade-plus experiment with free speech.
Al Jazeera's code of ethics states that the network should adhere to journalistic standards of independence, giving "no priority to commercial or political considerations over professional ones." However, the network now increasingly finds itself forced to yield to Qatari political considerations. A New York Times report found that Al Jazeera had been treating the Saudi royal family with "kid gloves," failing to report, among other stories, the high-profile lashing of a girl who had pressed rape charges in a Saudi court. Although Qatar founded Al Jazeera partly as a forum for Saudi critics, it is now compelled to avoid alienating Saudi Arabia, an economic titan and fellow Sunni nation, given the perceived threat to both from Iran. On account of financial considerations, stations have and likely will continue to increase their political sensitivity.
Whether Arab governments are reacting to a perceived threat from Iran or have simply had enough of an uncooperative media, draconian measures seem imminent. Yet contrary to the Cairo charter's intentions, increased censorship may produce more chaos than it quells. Indeed, recent protests against media censorship in Pakistan demonstrate that press freedom, once granted, may be difficult to rescind. Moreover, Arab governments may discover that their control of traditional broadcast media is inadequate in an increasingly networked region. The nascent "Arab blogosphere" has rapidly expanded-the number of Arab blogs was estimated at 40,000 in 2006-and now vies with traditional media for coverage of the most controversial political issues. Cell-phone videos of police brutality have led to arrests of police officers and to detentions of the bloggers themselves. Ultimately, the relative objectivity and editorial restraint of traditional media, including Al Jazeera, could be replaced by bloggers' more unruly approach. For Arab states wishing to maintain harmony and to silence critics, this may be the least welcome outcome of their censorship.