تخطي إلى المحتوى
Mada Masr
جارٍ البحث…
لا توجد نتائج لـ «».
How authorities targeted rising online stars for violating ‘family values’

How authorities targeted rising online stars for violating ‘family values’

كتابة: Mohamed Tarek 23 دقيقة قراءة

Haneen Hossam’s rise as an internet personality was rapid. She posted hundreds of videos of herself dancing to popular mahraganat songs or performing karaoke on Instagram, TikTok and Likee. She stayed online for hours on end, engaging with her social media followers and answering their questions. Her accounts feature photos of herself modeling prominent international clothing brands while posing in her house, in the street, and with friends on her university campus. She helped jump-start several young filmmakers’ careers by starring in their short YouTube films.

An archaeology student at Cairo University, Hossam eventually amassed a combined audience of some 7 million followers across all three platforms and is famously referred to with the hashtag “Haram Masr” (the pyramid of Egypt). 

Today, the 20-year-old internet star is behind bars, serving a two-year prison sentence; she was also fined LE300,000. Hossam was convicted, along with four other co-defendants, who are also affiliated with Likee in Egypt, of “violating family values” under Article 25 of the 2018 cybercrime law. 

Hossam’s story as a burgeoning internet personality who monetized her online fame shines a spotlight on new job opportunities provided by entertainment technology apps popular among the youth. This emerging market has enabled young women and men to perform and model using the apps, bringing wealth and fame to both content creators and app providers in countries around the world. Yet in Egypt, this profitable arrangement has been met with a crackdown by authorities, landing Hossam and others in prison.

An in-depth look at Hossam’s case file reveals how authorities targeted her and their stated reasoning for pursuing the case.

____

In May 2019, YY, a major Chinese video-based social network, acquired Bigo Technology, the founder of Likee. YY had initially started out as a social media platform primarily targeting gamers before it introduced a live stream commenting feature that directed it toward a broader audience.

While Instagram (owned by US company Facebook) and TikTok (owned by Chinese company ByteDance) offer streaming features, Likee (launched by the Singaporean Bigo Technology) is different in that it allows content creators and social media personalities to profit directly off their content, whether through live streams or short video clips. The more followers they have and likes they garner, the more money they earn. This has made Likee especially popular with teenagers. An entertainment-oriented platform that is largely free from political content, they can use Likee to live stream or make short clips where they showcase skills such as dancing, karaoke or riffing on movie lines.

Hoping to expand her base as a social media influencer, Hossam agreed to do 20 videos from Egypt for Likee. In exchange, she received US$400, which was transferred to her Banque Misr account.

When Likee introduced their live streaming feature, Hossam presented a series titled “One Myth, One Minute” on the app as well as on her Instagram and TikTok accounts. The first episode was on Venus and Adonis. She read a script in colloquial Arabic to alleviate “the feeling the audience might get that they’re in class.” Hossam also presented a daily series titled “Have you ever…?” in which she responded to random questions posed by her followers. “Have you ever been in love?” one follower asked her. “Once, when I was a kid in middle school, but it was one-sided,” she answered. “Are you in a relationship?” another asked. “It’s complicated,” Hossam said. “Did you ever steal?” yet another asked “I take money from my dad’s pocket while he’s sleeping, but I tell him when he wakes up,” she said.

Speaking to 5 million followers on Likee, Hossam appealed to teenagers to avoid getting involved in romantic relationships as a way of coping with the loneliness and mental distress that may arise during home isolation.

Portrait of Haneen Hossam by Soheir Shararah

A particular video that Hossam posted on her Instagram account about a new opportunity on Likee became a central focus of the prosecution’s case against her. 

In the video, Hossam discusses the difficulties people may have suffered as a consequence of the lockdown — from losing a job to feelings of boredom and listlessness. She goes on to announce the launch of a Likee-affiliated agency she names “Haram Masr” and invites young women aged 18 and above to apply for work through her agency. The young women, Hossam says, must have decent bandwidth and proper lighting. For what she claims would be an easy income of between $36 and $3,000, they would be required to join the app and stream for at least 30 hours per month, no more than three hours a day. While streaming, they are to engage users and establish connections with the audience. The more viewers they get, the more money they can earn. In the video, Hossam strictly forbids potential streamers from wearing revealing clothing or relying on that as a tactic to attract followers.

Hossam’s venture came in response to an effort by Likee to expand their live streaming base by contracting virtual agencies that would in turn recruit content creators to engage a youth audience. The owner of the agency gets 20 percent of any earnings by the content creators.

An agent, like Hossam, is typically invited to suggest potential performers to a Likee director. The candidates then audition in front of a corporate team. If accepted, they work for the agency as video content creators. The app also lets users support painting, singing, acting or comic talents. A user can link their bank account to the app and buy virtual diamonds, which they can send to the performers they like. The diamonds turn into beans in the performer’s online wallet. Once they accumulate a certain number of beans, they can redeem them for real money. The company employs a content moderation team who monitors performers around the clock. If one is found to have violated the community guidelines by instigating violence, inciting religious hatred or posting sexual content, they are immediately banned.

Hossam’s Instagram video calling on people to apply for work through her agency was met with an uproar on local talk shows, with TV hosts noting suspiciously that Hossam had exclusively called on young women to sign up. 

Her first detractor was Nashaat al-Dihy, a TV host and a member of the National Telecom Regulatory Authority (NTRA). On an April 18 episode of his talk show, Dihy broadcast Hossam’s video calling on followers to join Likee. Despite his self-proclaimed “ignorance” of the nature of such apps that are popular with teenagers, Dihy called on the NTRA, of which he is a board member, as well as the communications minister, to ban TikTok, Likee and similar apps. He speculated on the content as being “broadcast from girls’ bedrooms” and decried all online lives treaming apps as potential venues for legalized prostitution. Dihy also urged the public prosecutor to question Hossam and take measures “in the interest of maintaining the identity of the Egyptian family,” raising concerns about users earning millions in unregulated income. 

This diatribe helped trigger a crackdown in what later came to be known as the “TikTok girls” case.

Initially, Hossam dismissed the criticism, chalking it up to talk show hosts trying to stir up a controversy about social media content creators in order to benefit from the media frenzy, particularly since Dihy’s followers were only a tenth of Hossam’s.

She did not want to “stoop to the level of a fool,” she said at the time. “If you look at someone and think you’re better than them, if you think you’re all wise and eloquent, if you think you have everything and that you’ve attained perfection, then enjoy that wonderful heaven of yours and let the rest of us down here on earth live on our own terms and make mistakes,” Hossam dryly commented.

___

Yet Dihy’s call was taken up by the Public Prosecution’s department of communications, guidance and social media, an entity established on November 12, 2019 to monitor and analyze content on media outlets and social media platforms.

On April 19, the department submitted a two-page report to North Cairo Chief Public Prosecutor Sherif al-Shenawy, which Mada Masr obtained a copy of.  “A girl named Haneen Hossam, an archaeology student, has in a video called on other girls to join an agency that she created on an app called Likee for the purpose of connecting with young men through live audiovisual conversations during lockdown in exchange for pay determined by each girl’s followership,” the report reads. “She claimed that a girl could make between $300 and $1,000.” 

The department urged Shenawy to arrest Hossam and interrogate her for “[taking] advantage of young people’s need for money, and for the potential promotion of sins and pornography which could be involved with this app, as it hosts rooms where young men and women can have inappropriate chats for money and where conversations could venture into sexual territory.”

Upon reading the letter, the chief prosecutor promptly ordered the arrest of Hossam and directed the police investigative unit to gather information about her.

The matter was referred to the General Department of Public Vice Protection, led by 53-year-old Brigadier Ahmed Taher Nour Eddin, who is the department’s director for external activities. 

In 2016, Nour Eddin targeted members of the LGBTQ+ community on social media. He created a fake account on WhosHere, a dating app, and set up a date at Tahrir Square with a user who went by the name Hammoudi. Nour Eddin showed up with plainclothes police deployed around the square and arrested Hammoudi. Hammoudi was tried on a number of charges, including incitement to debauchery and depravity. His lawyer argued that proper procedure was not followed in his arrest and that no evidence existed. Hammoudi was eventually acquitted.

Nour Eddin says that the role of the morality police is to “go after those who would use apps and websites to publish content that incites citizens, especially young people, to commit acts that are not in line with norms and traditions, or to propagate deviant thought and acts of debauchery and depravity in society,” according to a statement in his own handwriting in Hossam’s arrest report, which Mada Masr obtained a copy of as part of the case file.

The idea of a morality police was first conceived in Egypt in 1937. An Office for Upholding Morality was established in Cairo and led by a police major, who commanded several officers and a host of non-commissioned officers and soldiers. According to the Interior Ministry’s website, this marked the advent of the country’s morality police. In May 1940, the prime minister ordered the establishment of a Division for Upholding Morality and Protecting Minors as an entity under the Interior Ministry. By 1972, the division had grown into a department under the Authority for Public Security. In 1979, it was integrated into a department of the Interior Ministry’s Social Security Sector. Finally, in 1994, it was elevated to the level of a general department headed by a deputy interior minister.

According to the case file, Nour Eddin went on YouTube to research Hossam. On a TV broadcaster’s channel, he found a video titled “A moral catastrophe: A girl calls on girls to exhibit their bodies on webcams for $3,000.” Less than 24 hours after he received the letter from the Public Prosecution ordering her arrest, Nour Eddin had dug up Hossam’s information: an archaeology student born on December 5, 1999, and a resident of a district under the jurisdiction of the Sahel police department.

At 10 pm on April 20, Nour Eddin arrived at Hossam’s house in Shobra. After entering her residence, he had her lead him to her room to search the premises and asked her to hand over her mobile phone and laptop. She handed him two iPhones (one she still used, with a SIM card registered to her name, and one she no longer used, which had no SIM card) and a personal laptop. 

Nour Eddin placed Hossam under arrest and took her to the morality police’s Cairo headquarters. Inside the headquarters, he ordered her to give him the PIN code to unlock her phone, which she did. He then logged on to her Instagram, TikTok and Likee accounts to watch her videos. He also pored through her WhatsApp texts, some of which were from friends inquiring about working with Likee. Others were exchanges between her and employees of the platform. There was also a group chat she had for people who helped run her account. Nour Eddin started writing up these conversations as criminal charges.

On April 21, at two in the morning, Nour Eddin sat in his office writing up a six-page investigation and arrest report on Hossam. “Haneen has taken advantage of the current conditions in the country, with young people experiencing a recession in the labor market and need for money, thus inviting girls to establish connections with young men through live audiovisual conversations on the Likee app during lockdown in exchange for pay determined by each girl’s followership, [with said content] being accessible by any and all,” he wrote. “Despite the fact that she purposefully tries to claim legitimacy for what she does and says that it does not violate public decency, it is little more than an endeavor to lure in girls and put them to work as part of a social network where they engage in perverted conversations that [involve] incitement to prostitution and debauchery. We have noticed that that video has dealt a major shock to Egyptian society, as it was a blatant call to commit scandalous acts.”

Pending her hearing at the North Cairo Public Prosecution, Hossam spent the night at the department’s headquarters. Nour Eddin’s report was brought before Shenawy at one in the afternoon. It stated that Nour Eddin had “confronted [Hossam] with the information gathered. She admitted to having habitually filmed enticing video clips to attract followers through seduction and attention-grabbing tactics, and that she has made quite a bit of profit thanks to views and likes. She also lured in girls who dream of fame and wealth, took advantage of their circumstances, the general recession in the labor market and the lack of [financial resources], and drove them to shoot films and appear online via her fake Likee agency for the entertainment of young men seeking forbidden pleasure, in exchange for in-app gifts and rewards which translate to actual money transferred to her via Western Union that she then shares with the administrators of the app.”

At her first hearing, Hossam denied all of the accusations levied against her by Nour Eddin. “All of the charges against me are false. The video was nothing more than a promotion for the app, and does not include any inappropriate material,” she said.

Hossam told prosecutors the explanation was simple: Two employees, Mohamed Alaa Eddin Morsi and Mohamed Abdel Hamid Zaki, who are part of Likee’s Egypt team, had reached out to her. They offered her $3,000 to make an Instagram video advertising the fact that the app is seeking young women over the age of 18 with cooking, musical, singing or conversational talents to work as content creators. 

Hossam also told the chief public prosecutor that a Likee executive named Margen had contacted her two years earlier via Instagram and offered her a job. Margen sent Hossam an online contract to sign, which required her to make 20 entertainment videos, 15 to 30 seconds in length each. The standard pay offered was $400, but she could earn more or less depending on the quality of each video and the online engagement it receives. Hossam made dozens of entertainment videos, mostly ones of her lip-syncing to songs and re-enacting comedic movie scenes. “I don’t need to make pornographic videos. I’m famous. My hashtag, Haram Masr, has 350 million hits,” Hossam said in the interrogation, according to the case file.

By the end of day on April 22, the prosecution ordered Hossam to be held in remand detention for four days on charges of incitement to prostitution on the internet and the infringement on family principles and values embraced by Egyptian society. The prosecutor also tasked the Interior Ministry’s organized crime and human trafficking department with conducting a further investigation into the role of three young men, whose names were found in Hossam’s WhatsApp chats, and who she told the prosecution were Likee employees.

The request was put to Colonel Tamer Samir al-Shahid, the deputy director at the Anti-Illegal Migration and Human Trafficking Department, which is affiliated with the Anti-Drug and Organized Crime Division of the Interior Ministry. For years, Shahid has gone after sex workers, gay people and swingers. But he has little connection to the Interior Ministry's technology department. As far as he is concerned, social media platforms are a virtual world where girls’ weakness and need for money can be exploited, as they are used sexually  to incite young men to commit debauchery and depravity for financial gain. For Shahid, the hashtag “Your bed is your stage” — which young people came up with as a way of coping with boredom in home isolation by acting, singing and dancing — constitutes a thinly veiled invitation to infringe on customs and traditions by showing people on their beds, where they sleep, in pajamas.

Shahid concluded his investigation less than 24 hours after receiving the prosecution’s request. In a five-page report obtained by Mada Masr, he fashioned the case as an even deeper criminal conspiracy. According to Shahid’s report, 10 Likee employees formed a criminal organization which operates in several countries as secret cluster cells. The organization set out to take advantage of young women by claiming to offer them jobs as performers, while in fact using them to satisfy young men’s sexual needs and generate massive profits for the app, in violation of the 2010 human trafficking law. Upon reading the investigation report, the chief prosecutor ordered the arrest of nine people named by Shahid in the report. 

The case was now back in the hands of Nour Eddin, who was tasked with the arrest of the newly identified defendants. Nour Eddin coordinated with the Public Security Sector and National Security Agency to arrange several arrests, beginning with Mohamed Abdel Hamid Zaki, Mohamed Alaa Eddin Morsi and Ahmed Salah Mohamed Desoki.

Morsi had joined Bigo Technology just four months before his arrest. Born in Maadi to a father who teaches chemistry at Mansoura University, Morsi studied business administration at a private university. He worked as a coordinator and translator for Bigo Technology for a monthly salary of LE 9,000, transferred to an Egyptian bank account that the company created for him.

During his interrogation, Morsi briefed the chief prosecutor on what live streaming entails: It is similar to when Uber contracts drivers, he said. You either talk to an agent or apply directly through the app. You then audition in front of a corporate team, which either approves or rejects you for a live streaming position, similar to the license Uber grants a driver. When a performer earns 5,000 beans, they can redeem them for $60. The rest goes to the company. If the performer applied through an agent, the agent gets 20 percent of the performer’s cut.

Morsi had met Hossam through the app. She was one of the top 10 Likee performers in Egypt. He approached her about the possibility of granting her access to the live streaming feature, which would profit both parties. She agreed. Her early videos were about antiquities and history. Her followers asked her questions in the comments and she answered. Before long, hers was the top viewed channel in Egypt. In February, she earned 10,000 beans, with live streams taking up more of her time than short clips. The company offered to make her an agent instead, and she agreed.

Mohamed Abdel Hamid Zaki was a Middle East director for live streaming agencies at Likee. At his hearing, Zaki revealed information, which Mada Masr gained access to, that somehow neither the prosecution nor the police had uncovered before they arrested him: The owner of Likee, Bigo Technology, had based its regional headquarters in Egypt, in an office in Heliopolis. The Singapore-based Bigo, one of the world’s fastest growing internet firms, was among the few technology companies that wanted to run their Middle East investments out of Egypt. The local branch has a commercial register and a tax ID and employs approximately 400 people. All of their foreign employees have work permits. The earlier police investigation, however, only concluded that Likee was a Chinese app and nothing more.

According to his statement to the prosecution, which Mada Masr obtained, Zaki joined the company in 2019 as Bigo’s app director of Middle East agencies. By January 2020, he shifted over to the Likee app, where he worked as a director for live streaming agencies. Zaki oversaw 60 agencies created by other people to commission short videos and live streams. His role also involved answering agents’ questions and lending assistance to users.

Zaki met Hossam after he joined Likee. Hossam was initially running Haram, one of the agencies Zaki oversaw. She was asked to create a bank account and compile a spreadsheet of her performers’ accounts, their names and their talents. Hossam was not able to recruit enough performers to start her agency. So Zaki advised her to lay out a plan. Via Whatsapp, she told him that she could recruit more performers if she posted a video to Instagram. Hossam also told him that she decided to target girls exclusively.

Upon hearing their statements, Shenawy ordered Zaki and Morsi to be held in remand detention for four days. Similarly, he ordered the detention of Sameh Atteya Khalifa. Finally, he requested that detectives locate the offices of Bigo and its affiliate companies and identify their activities.

A police unit, headed by Nour Eddin, went to the office of Bigo Technology in the Fifth Settlement. They were greeted by the company’s Middle East regional director Liu Routain, who also goes by Jackson, and Momen Hassan Saad, Likee’s executive director in Egypt. Both men were arrested and escorted out of the premises. The unit also alerted the tourism and antiquities police to arrest Lin Ruibeng, the Egyptian branch’s general manager, who had been staying at the Kempinski Hotel in New Cairo since he began working for the app in February. A police unit, led by Brigadier Mahmoud Sonbol, headed to the hotel. Sonbol inspected guests’ passports and verified that Lin was staying there. The executive was seized from his room and escorted to the prosecutor’s office, according to the arrest report.

Portrait of Mowada al-Adham by Soheir Shararah

Mowada al-Adham, another rising internet personality, was not initially involved in the case. 

She first showed up on Nour Eddin’s radar when he questioned Mohamed Mahgoub, Likee’s video director for short clips and ads. Mahgoub had been arrested from his home by the Qena Security Directorate, on Nour Eddin’s request, and transferred to the capital where he was handed over to the morality police. During questioning, he told Nour Eddin that Likee executives also reached out to Adham, hoping to capitalize on her fame as an online personality. They signed her to make videos for a monthly salary of $400.

Adham already had quite a following on Instagram and had appeared as a guest on several TV shows. She had moved from Matrouh to Cairo at 19 to pursue media studies and worked as a host on Arab FM radio. The move was not easy for her. “Matrouh people observe certain customs and traditions,” Adham said in a TV interview in 2018. “For them, Cairo is the pinnacle of freedom. For a [Matrouh] girl to get a high school education is quite unusual, let alone for one to go to college.”

Adham began to support herself at a young age to gain some independence from her family, although she maintained a good relationship with her parents. She used her status as a social media influencer to promote international clothing and cosmetics brands, as well as to do charity work. For example, she visited Abol Rish Children’s Hospital, interviewed patients’ families and called attention to their needs. She filmed in a ward that was built with donations and joined the staff in making a plea for people to visit and donate.

Adham was not initially aware of the legal proceedings under way that would eventually land her in prison. While the Public Prosecution was conducting investigations, she was shooting an Instagram series titled “Our Lives” about physical wellness that included a promotion for a fitness trainer. Shortly before she was arrested on May 15, Adham published a picture showing solidarity with members of the Armed Forces who had been killed in North Sinai.

As Nour Eddin questioned Mahgoub about Adham he jotted down: “We have seen three videos of Mowada al-Adham dancing in inappropriate clothes that accentuate her body and private parts … thus promoting debauchery and depravity, and inciting girls to follow in her footsteps and commit indecent acts like she does.”

___

Later, during the hearings with Hossam and Adham, the prosecution asked Nour Eddin, “Does Bigo have rules of conduct that outline what is acceptable and what is not?” Nour Eddin responded, “The company applies a global system called artificial intelligence. It works on all apps and websites. It bans any photos or movies that show violence, genetalia or explicit sexual acts. The program automatically deletes such photos or videos as soon as they show up.”

According to Nour Eddin, “The company operates within the confines of what is permitted. It does not allow those who make videos to carry out pornographic acts.” However, his view was that the app allowed users to do “seductive dances,” which are “not in line with the traditions of the Egyptian family.”

The chief prosecutor ended the hearing with Nour Eddin’s statement. The following day, Ruibeng, Routian and Mahgoub were released, while Adham, Hossam, Morsi, Zaki and Ahmed Sameh Attiya Khalifa continued to be questioned. Three months later, the five of them were referred to trial at the Cairo Economic Court. On July 27, they were each handed a two-year prison sentence and fined LE 300,000.

On August 30, the Public Prosecution released a statement saying that the Chinese ambassador to Egypt met with the public prosecutor to discuss the legal developments in connection with Bigo Technology. According to the statement, the ambassador affirmed that the company is committed to observing the customs and traditions embraced by Egyptian society. Now aware of the type of acts that may constitute a violation of Egyptian law, taking the investigations as guidance, it will review all content accordingly, the ambassador said. The public prosecutor told the ambassador that the investigations against the executives “take into account the distinction between personal responsibility and the company’s responsibility — which is why no actions have been taken against the company.” The ambassador was also informed that the “investigations are still ongoing.”

عن الكاتب

تقارير ذات صلة

Your support is the only way to ensure independent, progressive journalism survives.

You have a right to access accurate information, be stimulated by innovative and nuanced reporting, and be moved by compelling storytelling. Subscribe now to become part of the growing community of members who help us maintain our editorial independence.

Join us