A dispute over public performance rights has sparked one of the most significant debates Egypt’s film and television industry has seen in years. What began as a legislative proposal quickly evolved into a broader argument over contracts, royalties, bargaining power and the economics of an industry already under pressure due to rising costs, shrinking returns and a narrowing distribution market.
At the centre of the controversy is actor and appointed Senator Yasser Galal, who submitted a proposal to the Senate’s Committee on Culture, Tourism, Antiquities and Media on 17 May calling for the activation of public performance rights under Egypt’s Intellectual Property Protection Law No. 82 of 2002. Galal argues that the right already exists in Egyptian law but has never been effectively implemented in the audiovisual sector. Its activation, he says, would entitle actors, singers, musicians and other performers to continuing remuneration when their work is rebroadcast or otherwise commercially reused. The proposal builds on a legal framework shaped by both international agreements and domestic legislation. Egypt is a signatory to the 1886 Berne Convention, while Egyptian Law No. 82 of 2002 consolidated copyright and neighbouring rights.
In music, continuing remuneration is already administered through the Egyptian Society of Authors, Composers and Publishers (SACERAU), which collects and distributes royalties from the public use of musical works in Egypt and abroad. Film and television, however, remain unresolved. Performers, writers and directors often see their work repeatedly exploited without sharing in its continuing economic value, while producers argue that they have already paid the agreed fees, assumed the financial risk and acquired the right to exploit the work. It is this unresolved tension that Galal’s proposal brought to the forefront.
Producer Gamal El Adl, chairman of Al Adl Group, one of Egypt’s longest-established production companies, was among the first prominent figures to oppose the proposal. While stressing that he did not reject public performance rights in principle, El Adl argued that extending them to Egypt’s highest paid stars would be both unrealistic and unfair. “I have no objection to actors receiving public performance rights,” he said. “But a lead actor cannot earn EGP 50 million for a series and then demand additional rights they can even pass on to their heirs.” Instead, he argued that actors who receive comparatively modest fees have a stronger claim to such protections. In his view, the industry must choose between two models: either performers accept lower upfront fees in exchange for future royalties, or they receive full remuneration at the time of production with no further financial claims. He also maintained that, unlike larger international markets, Egyptian television productions generate most of their revenues during their first and second broadcast cycles, leaving little long-term income from which such royalties could realistically be paid.
As the controversy intensified, the Cinema Industry Chamber of the Federation of Egyptian Industries convened an emergency meeting that brought together more than 50 of Egypt’s leading film and television producers and distributors. It issued an official statement rejecting proposals to activate public performance rights under the interpretation of Law No. 82 of 2002 being advanced by supporters of the initiative. The Chamber argued that while the law recognises public performance rights as economic rights, it also permits their contractual assignment. Producers, it maintained, are therefore neither required to adopt standardised contracts nor to pay royalties for subsequent broadcasts unless the performer or author has expressly retained those rights in the original agreement.
Citing provisions of the Intellectual Property Law and rulings by the Court of Cassation, it stressed that producers, as the parties financing and assuming responsibility for a work, acquire the rights necessary for its distribution, exhibition and commercial exploitation, with freedom of contract remaining the governing principle. Warning against imposing new obligations on producers, broadcasters and digital platforms without a clear legal or contractual basis, the Chamber invoked the principle that “the contract is the law of the contracting parties” and rejected any framework that would create new financial entitlements beyond existing agreements.
Yet the producers’ position was met by an equally firm response from Egypt’s two main artistic syndicates. Both the Actors Syndicate and the Cinematic Professions Syndicate backed Galal’s initiative, arguing that public performance rights were already recognised under Law No. 82 of 2002, the only issue being their implementation – not the creation of a new legal right. The Actors Syndicate described the campaign as “a noble battle” to uphold justice and preserve Egypt’s artistic legacy, while the Cinematic Professions Syndicate said activating the provisions would strengthen copyright protection and better safeguard the rights of its members in Egypt and abroad.
Supporters launched the campaign Together to Activate Public Performance Rights, rallying prominent figures from Egypt’s film and television industry. At a meeting held at the Actors’ Syndicate Club on 15 July, participants endorsed the proposal and authorised the syndicate to pursue the legal and regulatory steps needed to implement it. Addressing the meeting, Galal described public performance rights as a legal right that would protect creators while strengthening Egypt’s cultural industries and bringing the country closer to systems already operating elsewhere.
Veteran actor Yehia El-Fakharany, one of the earliest public advocates of public performance rights in Egypt, framed the issue as one of dignity and financial security. Speaking by telephone on Al Soura, he described the right as “more important than awards,” arguing that while honours eventually become symbolic, continuing royalties provide artists with income after the end of their careers. El-Fakharany also rejected claims that the system would undermine production. “Producers are running a business, not a charity,” he said. “They recover their investment from the initial release, so public performance rights would not threaten the industry.”
The most concise intervention came from filmmaker Khairy Beshara, one of the pioneers of Egypt’s Neo Realism movement. On his Facebook page, Beshara wrote only one sentence: “I need a good lawyer to secure my public performance rights for just one of my films: Ice Cream in Gleem.” The 1992 film remains one of the classics of modern Egyptian cinema. Its enduring popularity, amplified by songs performed by pop star Amr Diab, has enabled it to survive across generations. More than three decades after its release, it continues to appear on television channels and digital platforms. Beshara’s remark points to one of the clearest arguments made by supporters: artists may have little control over the continued circulation of works that remain commercially active long after the original contract has ended.
Producer and screenwriter Mohamed Hefzy, one of the Arab world’s leading independent filmmakers, rejected framing the dispute as a two-sided conflict between producers and performers. In a lengthy Facebook post, he argued that the controversy had exposed “a large gap between the two sides”: artists often underestimate the challenges facing producers, while some producers fail to recognise that performers’ and authors’ demands are “legitimate in principle,” provided fair mechanisms are developed. Hefzy also argued that much of the public debate had turned “a highly complex issue” into a simplistic confrontation because many commentators lacked sufficient understanding of either the law or its practical implementation. Any attempt to activate public performance rights, he said, should have been preceded by dialogue among all stakeholders, informed by legal experts and international experience but adapted to the realities of the Egyptian market.
Drawing on his experience working with members of unions including the Screen Actors Guild–American Federation of Television and Radio Artists (better known as SAG-AFTRA), Hefzy noted that such systems rely on contractual and financial structures that do not currently exist in Egypt, where agreements with broadcasters and streaming platforms rarely allocate funds for public performance royalties. He also pointed to rising production costs, declining demand from streaming platforms, low subscription prices and piracy as structural obstacles. “The goal,” he concluded, “should not be the victory of one side over another,” but “building a system that achieves fairness, protects creators’ rights and, at the same time, ensures the sustainability and competitiveness of the industry.”
Filmmaker Amir Ramses too, while supporting activating public performance rights, argued that any implementation must reflect the realities of the Egyptian market. Writing on Facebook, he said, “I support the activation of the public performance rights law. There is no debate about that.” His concern, however, as he went on to say, was that Egypt’s limited distribution market leaves few films generating significant income long after their initial release. Referring to the American model discussed by Hefzy, Ramses argued that requiring producers to deposit money in advance would not suit “a volatile market where losses are more common than profits.” Instead, he suggested that television drama, where successful series continue to generate revenue through reruns, could provide a more practical starting point before extending the system to cinema. “As long as we continue making works that disappear from the audience’s memory after a few months,” he wrote, “the system will not succeed.”
Alaa El Kahky, chairman of Al-Nahar Television Network, voiced a more forceful economic objection. Speaking on Al Soura, he questioned whether broadcasters could realistically bear the cost of paying public performance royalties to actors, writers and directors. “Some argue that artists need public performance rights because they may have no source of income in old age,” he said. “But actors today are already earning tens of millions. Who is expected to bear the cost? No television channel can afford to pay thousands of rights holders every month.” El Kahky also rejected the idea of continuing financial claims after creators had already been paid. “If artists want public performance rights,” he said, “then they should not receive an upfront fee for the work.”
Ahmed El Sobky, founder of El Sobky for Film Production, adopted one of the strongest positions against the proposal. Speaking to ET bil Arabi, he rejected the idea that performers should negotiate public performance rights collectively through their syndicate, insisting that such discussions belonged within the Cinema Industry Chamber. Referring to Galal, he said,” Yasser Galal can say whatever he wants, but he does not speak for us.” He also made clear that he would refuse to include such provisions in future contracts: “If someone asks for public performance rights while signing a contract with me, my answer will simply be, Then we will not be working together.”
Karim El Sobky, one of Egypt’s leading commercial producers, adopted a more measured tone. While acknowledging that public performance rights exist in the United States, Europe and several Arab countries, he argued that “the Egyptian market differs fundamentally” and warned that any new legal obligations should be assessed against their impact on production and investment. Pointing to a decline in annual film output, from 42 productions in 2024 to 32 in 2025, he described the figures as evidence of the industry’s fragility and argued that any reform should emerge through institutional dialogue involving all stakeholders, particularly the Cinema Industry Chamber, to strike a balance between protecting artists’ rights and preserving the industry’s sustainability.
The intensity of the Egyptian debate also reflects the absence of a single international model. Around the world, public performance rights are implemented through different combinations of collective bargaining, statutory protection and collective management systems. In the United States, continuing payments, known as residuals, are secured mainly through collective bargaining rather than a universal statutory right. Agreements negotiated by unions such as SAG-AFTRA provide additional payments for television reruns, international broadcasts, home-video releases and some forms of streaming, while separate agreements cover writers and directors. Eligibility depends on union membership and contractual arrangements rather than automatic entitlement.
Other countries rely on different mechanisms. The United Kingdom combines contractual arrangements with collective rights management through the British Equity Collecting Society (BECS), while France and Spain provide stronger statutory protection, with remuneration often administered through collecting societies. Mexico combines both approaches by granting performers a non-waivable statutory right to remuneration alongside separate organisations responsible for labour representation and neighbouring rights management.
Although these systems differ considerably, they all share a common principle: payment for creating a performance does not necessarily exhaust its future economic value. Continued remuneration may arise through collective bargaining, legislation, collective management organisations, or a combination of all three. It is precisely this diversity that has complicated the Egyptian debate. The American model relies on powerful unions and collective bargaining, while the British, French, Spanish and Mexican systems depend on legal frameworks and collective management organisations capable of tracking uses and distributing royalties. Egypt has no comparable infrastructure.
Legal questions have proved equally contentious. While Egypt’s Intellectual Property Law recognises public performance rights, producers argue that it also permits their contractual assignment, meaning many performers have already transferred those rights through existing agreements. They further contend that prohibiting such waivers or imposing mandatory contracts could conflict with freedom of contract, while extending any new system to older productions raises difficult questions about acquired rights and retroactive obligations.
The economics are no less disputed. Producers argue that existing licensing agreements with broadcasters and streaming platforms make no provisions for public performance royalties, meaning any new obligation would either reduce producers’ returns or be passed onto broadcasters and platforms, potentially discouraging investment in Egyptian productions. Supporters counter that these practical obstacles do not negate a legal right, but instead highlight the need for an Egyptian model tailored to local conditions rather than imported wholesale from abroad.
Ultimately, the debate extends far beyond royalties. It raises broader questions about how financial risk, bargaining power and the long-term value of creative works should be shared across Egypt’s audiovisual industry. While producers emphasise the costs and risks of financing productions, performers argue that works often continue generating value long after the original contracts have expired. What began as a proposal to activate an existing legal right has thus evolved into a broader debate over the future of Egypt’s audiovisual industry. And, until a workable framework emerges, public performance rights will remain not simply a legal question, but a test of how the industry balances creators’ rights with the economic realities of production.
* A version of this article appears in print in the 23 July, 2026 edition of Al-Ahram Weekly
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