When Egyptian media mistake video games for news

Somewhere in the back pages of some paranoid conspiracy theorist's notes, there must lay some scribbled theories about the evil of video games.

They may have written wrote about it being a way the establishment binds the minds of children to screens in virtual worlds that keep them preoccupied from engaging in real-life issues.

They may have also projected the use of video games to sanitise the waging of drone wars.

There may even be the beginnings of an entry on how some propagandist would broadcast clips from video games as real-life footage in order to convince his viewers of whatever he was selling the public on that day.

I imagine on that last one, the theorist would have stopped, mid-writing, thinking: "No, this is too far-fetched. It would require a level of surrealism that even the most eccentric conspiracy theorist could not honestly conjure."

As it turns out, Egypt's media is going through a very surreal period in its history. 

Ahmed Moussa, the host of a widely viewed primetime political talk show on the Sada Elballad television station, caught the world's attention when he aired a video claiming it to be first-person-perspective footage of Russian helicopters bombing IS strongholds in Syria.

He was, in fact, he was airing footage from the video game Apache Air Assault.

The reaction on social media was immediate.

Moussa, known as one of the most vociferous supporters of the president, and one of the most influential political talk show hosts was going to extreme lengths to praise Putin and Russia, which is, not coincidentally, becoming a very important ally of the president.

Moussa committed a professional folly of epic proportions, one that required equal levels of oversight and stupidity

In the process he committed a professional folly of epic proportions, one that required equal levels of oversight and stupidity, if not incredible condescension and belittlement of his viewers. There was no reason for the public reaction to be kind to him.

Unfortunately, online ridicule is about as serious a hiding as Moussa is likely to get. He is a part of a handful of nightly prime-time talk show hosts, with an extremely disproportionate effect in forming public opinion.

They are as widely cited for their opinions and utterances as prominent politicians. These hosts have more or less free rein on all major television stations, for two or three hours a night - to pretty much do and say as they would like, as long as they respect the red lines, which tend to include the president, the military, and other arbitrarily decided topics.

The only mechanism in place to rein in these kinds of media indiscretions are the guardians of these boundaries - judicial and security authorities - and TV station owners, who tend to hand pick these hosts for their bankability and political appropriateness.

Some of these hosts are increasingly chosen for their political opinions, rather than for their abilities as journalists, interviewers, or even for their presence in front of camera.

Many prominent talk show hosts such as Yousri Foda, who provided ground-breaking investigative journalism after the 25 January revolution, found themselves being routinely marginalised, silenced or replaced by others who instead try to attract viewers by ad-libbing tirades for hours on end every night.

This often comes with unhinged instigations of violence.

Moussa, for example, has previously called for the murder of anti-government protesters. Most recently he prompted his viewers to "smack on the head" anyone who doubted the integrity of last week's parliamentary elections.

Yes, this is less than a week after the Apache Air Assault fiasco.

If Brian Williams' recent troubles with NBC provide any kind of measurable parallel, Moussa should be seriously punished for his efforts. Furthermore, he should really be ashamed of himself. However, that was simply not the case.

After a tepid apology for what he described as just a "mistake", he went on to attack his detractors - which was pretty much everybody - claiming that the backlash over his actions was led by the US administration, which, by the way, he hates.

A week later, and it is as if this "mistake" never was. This shouldn't come as a surprise. Last March, the same broadcaster was convicted in court for "spreading false news" as well as numerous defamation cases for spreading libellous rumors about public figures - mostly figures of the 25 January revolution.

Although he is appealing against the decision, his network never thought to suspend him or even address the issue. Over the past two years, Ahmed Moussa has become one of the most visible pro-regime figures on the airwaves.

Over the past two years, Ahmed Moussa has become one of the most visible pro-regime figures on the airwaves

The seeming resilience of the Moussas of the Egyptian mass media may be attributed to the government - and the fact that Moussa seems to be prominently present whenever the president meets the press or is travelling abroad. However, there is strong evidence to suggest that private mass media is in fact willfully complicit in allowing for this brand of programming to become the norm.

It is not exactly an industry secret that sensationalism and violence attracts viewers.

Just last week, one of the most widely shared clips from the talk shows involved a vulgar yelling match between another prominent talk show host, his studio guest and a well-known movie producer.

The most important detail of this exchange was that the studio guest, who was brought in to attack the morality of the producer's films, has also appeared on many other talk shows, on a variety of topics, in order to spice up the discussion at hand.

He has been dubbed the professional talk show host "extra".

Even though the 2014 constitution explicitly prescribes the creation of an independent regulatory body for broadcast media, such a body has yet to be established. Judging from the current state of the all-important talk shows, perhaps its time is now.

Mohamed ElMeshad is a journalist and a PhD candidate at SOAS, focusing on the political economy of the media. He extensively worked in Egypt, Bahrain, West Africa, the UK and US. Recently, he contributed to the Committee to Protect Journalists’ book, Attacks on the Press (2015).

Opinions expressed in this article remain those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of al-Araby al-Jadeed, its editorial board or staff.