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Special Feature

Between Welfare and Exclusion: A History of Egypt’s Musicians’ Syndicate

Entre providence et exclusion : une histoire du Syndicat des musiciens en Égypte
بين الرفاهية والإقصاء: تاريخ نقابة الموسيقيين في مصر
Sophie Frankford
p. 73-96

Résumés

Lorsque le Syndicat des musiciens égyptiens fut créé en 1944, il était envisagé comme un moyen de fournir aux musiciens un soutien matériel, notamment des soins de santé, des pensions, des fonds de secours et de l'aide pour trouver un emploi. Cependant, depuis sa création, le syndicat s'est également investi dans le contrôle des frontières de la profession musicale, de manière à exclure certains artistes (souvent déjà marginalisés). À l'aide de sources de presse, de documents du syndicat, de statistiques relatives aux membres et aux finances du syndicat, et d'un travail de terrain ethnographique avec des musiciens au Caire (mené entre 2018 et 2023), cet article retrace les transformations du rôle et des attributions du syndicat, des années 1940 au début des années 2020, en se concentrant sur l'équilibre changeant entre ses deux fonctions : fournir une aide sociale d’une part, et de l’autre exclure certains musiciens et certains styles. L’article montre que ces deux fonctions sont toujours allées de pair, augmentant en tandem à certains moments de l'histoire, les amendes et les prélèvements contre les non-membres étant utilisés pour financer les prestations sociales des membres, et l'exclusion de nouveaux styles musicaux assurant la continuité de l'emploi pour les musiciens plus âgés et plus établis, qui constituent la principale base de membres du syndicat. L'examen de ces changements nous permet d'étudier les responsabilités changeantes de l'État en matière de bien-être de ses citoyens. Il est montré que le syndicat des musiciens fonctionne comme un groupe d'intérêt spécifiques, qui permet parfois à ses membres d'accéder à des ressources supplémentaires pour compléter ce que l'État fournit. Parallèlement, l’article montre que l'historicisation des actions du syndicat actuel peut nous aider à mieux comprendre son impact sur la scène musicale et les réalités de la production culturelle dans l'Égypte contemporaine.

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  • 1 The official Arabic name is Niqâbat al-mihan al-mûsîqiyya; often referred to conversationally as ni (...)
  • 2 Central Agency for Public Mobilization and Statistics (CAPMAS), “Al-nashra al-sanawiyya li-ihsâ’ât (...)

1Egypt’s Musicians’ Syndicate1 was established in 1944 thanks in part to the efforts of singer Umm Kulthum. It was envisaged as a way to provide musicians with material support, including healthcare, pensions, hardship funds, and help securing employment. With the welfare of its members at the heart of its proposed mission, it was intended to offer a safety net for the professional musicians it served, compensating for limited state welfare provisions. Today, the syndicate continues to offer material support to its members: in 2019, for instance, it spent over EGP 31 million on welfare services, primarily in the form of pensions and healthcare, with over 4,000 musicians benefiting.2

  • 3 El Rashidi 2023, Karâwiya 2022, 224-25, and Puig 2020, 405-6 discuss the syndicate in passing in te (...)

2Since Hany Shaker became the syndicate’s president in 2015, however, conversational and scholarly discussion about the syndicate has focused primarily on its role in policing Egypt’s music scene, and its exclusion of certain musicians and styles.3 The law requires that any singer or musician performing publicly in Egypt be a member of the syndicate; to become members, individuals must have graduated from Egypt’s Music Institute, or have been examined by a syndicate committee. Only Egyptian citizens are eligible to apply. Any musician caught performing without membership may be punished by at least one month and no more than three months in prison, and/or a fine of EGP 2,000-20,000 (Ezzat, alHaqq, and Fazulla 2014, 45). Shaker and his successor, Mostafa Kamel, have had numerous musicians fined and arrested, and even (unsuccessfully) attempted to ban an entire genre of music called mahragânât. Shaker argued that the electronic style, which emerged from popular neighborhoods and has come to dominate Cairo’s soundscape over the past decade, threatened respectable Egyptian culture by promoting such unethical customs as drinking alcohol and smoking hashish.

3This focus on policing and exclusion initially appears to be far removed from the syndicate’s founding goals. However, in this article I suggest that fulfilling its promise to provide welfare for its members has long been contingent on exclusion and the policing of the profession’s boundaries. Using press sources, documents from the syndicate, statistics relating to syndicate membership and finances, and ethnographic fieldwork with musicians in Cairo (conducted between 2018 and 2023), I trace transformations in the syndicate’s role and remit from the 1940s to the early 2020s, focusing on the shifting balance between welfare and exclusion over the years. I show that these two functions of the syndicate—policing and welfare provision—have gone hand in hand since its inception and have increased in tandem, accelerating in the late 1970s. The syndicate’s welfare services are financed by membership fees, taxes on members’ wages, and importantly fines levied against non-members. The syndicate has increasingly responded to members’ demands for higher pensions and improved healthcare with rhetoric about how this must be financed through fining and taxing musicians who perform without syndicate membership. Similarly, the syndicate’s long-standing promise to help its members find work is premised on the exclusion of rival musicians, with foreign musicians and new musical styles in particular being positioned as a threat to members’ livelihoods, thus something that needs to be controlled.

  • 4 Other professional syndicates in Egypt have received substantial attention, perhaps given their lar (...)

4I situate my arguments within broader scholarship on professional syndicates and the development of welfare provisions in Egypt. The birth of the Musicians’ Syndicate occurred within a broader movement of professional syndicates that was gaining ground in the 1940s. Lawyers were the first professional body to form a syndicate, in 1912, and a “burst of activity” at the time saw the establishment of medical, press, and journalists’ syndicates in 1940, 1941, and 1946, respectively (Reid 1974, 24).4 In contrast to independent trade unions, professional syndicates are affiliated with the state and placed under the supervision of a ministry that may grant them financial support. However, as will be explained below, successive regimes have felt threatened by these state-affiliated syndicates, given their ability to bring together large groups of (sometimes oppositional) urban professionals and raise substantial funds. The state has sought to bring professional syndicates under control while using them to supplement state welfare provisions. The Musicians’ Syndicate can be understood in this broader context as a special interest group that supplements (or replaces, or channels) welfare offered by the state, providing members with favorable access to resources.

  • 5 al-Zamar, ‘Alâ’. “Niqâbat al-mûsîqiyyîn tutâlib bi-raf‘ al-zulm ‘an a‘dâ’ihâ [The Musicians’ Syndic (...)

5I draw in particular on scholarship highlighting how Egypt’s professional syndicates have served to consolidate professional boundaries, and the role that so-called modern professions play in the creation of a modern state (Longuenesse 1995; Longueness and Monciaud 2011; Chiffoleau 1997; Jacquemond 2008). Since the 1970s, the syndicate has primarily served rank-and-file singers and musicians who work for a daily wage. Most of the work available to musicians in Egypt comes in the form of performing covers at nightclubs, cabarets, and weddings; there is very little opportunity for ticketed concerts of original music. In 2006, 75% of syndicate members worked in venues like nightclubs, and although more recent statistics are not available, fieldwork suggests a continuation of this trend.5 I came to know many such musicians while doing ethnographic research into sha‘bî music. The majority of musicians I knew who worked in these venues were working class or lower-middle class, hailing from popular peri-urban neighborhoods like al-Marg and Shubra al-Khayma. In 2018, they typically earned between EGP 150 and 400 for a night’s work and were welcoming of the additional welfare support offered by the syndicate. These musicians typically learn by ear, cannot read musical notation, and have never received formal musical training at the Music Institute. Thus, with no graduation certificate in an increasingly competitive music market, they felt that being accepted into the syndicate was a marker of distinction and an important means of professional boundary-making, and often called for increased policing by the syndicate, thus ensuring their access to work (Frankford 2023). Tracing transformations and continuities in the role of the Musicians’ Syndicate can help us better understand the shifting reality of cultural production in contemporary Egypt.

The Early Days of the Syndicate: 1942-1952

  • 6Bayân min al-mûsîqiyyîn al-muhtarifîn [Statement from the Professional Musicians],” al-Ahrâm, Nove (...)
  • 7 See Vigreux (1992) and Lagrange (1994, 189) for more on such groups, which included the al-Ahli Mus (...)

6The proposal to form a syndicate for musicians was announced on November 4, 1942, with the publication of “A Statement from the Professional Musicians” in al-Ahram.6 Undersigned by 53 musical stars, including Zakariyya Ahmed, Mohammed al-Qasabgi, Salih Abd al-Hayy, and Farid al-Atrash, the statement detailed plans to create a syndicate that would serve the interests of “all musicians, not only individuals from among us.” Prior to this, there had existed various (rival) professional associations and guilds for musicians, but nothing unified.7

  • 8 “About the Syndicate”, n.d., Musicians’ Syndicate website, accessed November 9, 2023.
  • 9Akhbâr al-masârih [Theatre news],” Âkhir Sâ‘a, November 22, 1942, 17.
  • 10 al-Musawwar, January 15, 1943, 10.

7Beyond stating that this new syndicate aimed to help the material and professional interests of its members, there was little discussion of its role and purpose, with public interest instead focusing on who would be the leader: Umm Kulthum or Mohammed Abdel Wahab. Among other things, they disagreed on whether the Syndicate should be independent (as Abdel Wahab believed) or affiliated with the state’s Ministry of Social Affairs (Umm Kulthum’s conviction),8 though it is not clear how this would impact its function. The formation of the syndicate stalled, as no agreement could be reached regarding who would lead it.9 The ongoing disagreement appears to have been of public interest well beyond circles of professional musicians, and was even used advertise soap: a half-page ad in a 1943 edition of the magazine al-Musawwar joked that “While the two leaders of tarab [musical enchantment] disagree over the presidency of the syndicate, they agree on their assessment of Nabulsi Farouk [a brand of soap],” accompanied by the photos of the two smiling singers and their signatures.10

  • 11 Despite facing opposition for being a woman (Danielson 1991, 307), Umm Kulthum went on to win seven (...)
  • 12 “About the Syndicate”, Musicians’ Syndicate website.
  • 13 Article 3, Law 85 of 1942. Note that there was no distinction made between professional syndicates (...)
  • 14 Article 6, Law 85 of 1942.
  • 15 Article 21, Law 85 of 1942.
  • 16 Article 12, Law 85 of 1942.

8Many months later, a decision was finally reached. After lengthy discussions and several general assemblies, a board of directors of the syndicate was elected, and Umm Kulthum was chosen as leader.11 A telegram was sent to the prime minister requesting approval, and an official decision (Number 123) was issued in 1944, signaling the syndicate’s official establishment.12 It was to be governed under Law 85 of 1942, which allowed workers to form labor unions to “protect their interests, defend their rights, and work to improve their financial and social conditions.”13 The law dictated that at least 25% of each union’s revenue be spent on social services and assistance,14 and required that membership not be compulsory.15 It also obliged all unions to register with the Ministry of Social Affairs and forbade them from engaging in religious or political issues.16 Despite the law stipulating that foreign workers who were permanent residents of Egypt could join a union, as long as their number did not exceed a quarter of the total membership, the Musicians’ Syndicate decided to admit only Egyptian nationals. In 1947, the Musicians’ Syndicate became part of the United Artistic Syndicates, entering into a federation with the Actors’ Syndicate and the Cinema Syndicate, both established in November 1943 (Farîd 1999, 10), with the hope of strengthening them. Although each continued to be run independently, the decision meant that they all came to be governed under the same legislation and elected a common leader in addition to their individual leaders.

  • 17 Several syndicate employees told me that records going that far back are not kept.
  • 18 al-Ithnayn, October 20, 1947, 4.
  • 19Hadatha hâdhâ al-usbû‘ [Happened this Week],” al-Kawâkib, June 3, 1952, 6.
  • 20Ma‘raka hâmiya.. fî intikhâbât niqâbat al-mûsîqiyyîn [A Fierce Battle.. in the Musicians’ Syndicat (...)
  • 21Hadatha hâdhâ al-usbû‘ [Happened this Week],” al-Kawâkib, May 27, 1952, 4.

9While it is difficult to access official data regarding the syndicate’s activities during these early years, especially relating to welfare provision, numerous reports in the press offer clues.17 Umm Kulthum and Abdel Wahab both engaged in fundraising efforts for the syndicate’s new treasury, each trying to outdo the other in personal contributions in the hope of being elected (Danielson 1991, 307), and Abdel Wahab held a concert in 1947 to raise money for the syndicate.18 Concerts were held during Ramadan in 1952 to raise money for musicians who needed aid,19 and the syndicate loaned money to members facing financial difficulties.20 The syndicate also intervened to help members find work: after the Cairo fire of 1952 destroyed many nightclubs and entertainment venues, impacting musicians’ employment, the syndicate campaigned for venues to rehire the same musicians (namely syndicate members) who had previously worked there, reminding them of the law stating that at least 50% of employees in such venues should be Egyptian.21 The syndicate does not appear to have offered a comprehensive pension system or welfare program in these early years, but in light of the fact that there was no comprehensive social security scheme offered by the state until the mid-1950s, the syndicate’s ad-hoc support can be seen as a welcome supplement to the state’s meager provisions.

10This was, in fact, typical of how professional syndicates (and other associations, most prominently religious ones) functioned in early twentieth-century Egypt, and why they arose: to “fill voids left by the state” (Ener 2003, 132). As Pollard (2014) has shown, before the 1930s, welfare was provided largely by voluntary charitable donations managed by independent associations and professional groups. By the mid-1930s, the state had become wary of the power that associations had and sought to benefit from their services while curtailing their freedom. The Ministry of Social Affairs was established in 1939; King Farouk and Prime Minister Ali Mahir hoped it would “affirm the state as the main provider” of welfare services (Pollard 2014, 240). It began “work[ing] in cooperation” with existing associations and professional groups “while supervising their activities” (ibid., 250), and retaining the right to dissolve them. The Musicians’ Syndicate was a case in point: it had to register with the Ministry of Social Affairs and share with it each year’s financial records. Thus the state benefitted from the services provided by such associations, but also sought to keep them on a short leash. Although the Ministry of Social Affairs is often presented as the modern Egyptian state’s earliest foray into social security legislation, Bianchi has characterized it as merely an “attempt to bolster authoritarianism by sponsoring a legitimist set of interest groups and creating an illusion of a modern welfare state,” which lay the groundwork “of what would eventually become an elaborate system of state-sponsored associations” (1989, 72).

  • 22Ma‘raka hâmiya,” 29.

11Although the Ministry of Social Affairs offered financial support to some other professional groups, it does not appear the Musicians’ Syndicate received any, perhaps because they were not deemed a political threat and thus their acquiescence did not need to be bought. In addition to the fundraising efforts noted above, and a modest annual membership fee, by 1951 there are reports of a new income stream: demanding payment of a fee from anyone who performed while not a member of the syndicate—a requirement that earned them EGP 335 in the 1951-1952 fiscal year (nearly USD 10,700 in today’s money after adjusting for inflation).22 Financing welfare provisions for its members thus began to be predicated on the exclusion and policing of musicians who were not members.

  • 23Hadatha hâdhâ al-usbû‘ [Happened this Week],” al-Kawâkib, June 3, 1952, 6.
  • 24Ma‘raka hâmiya,” 28.

12This intensified earlier debates about who should be allowed entry, and thus be able to freely practice their trade and have access to the syndicate’s support. In 1948, for example, Umm Kulthum fought for chorus girls to be allowed to join, arguing that they too should be considered professional musicians. But in 1952 she “threatened musicians” who joined other musical unions or syndicates in accordance with syndicate laws that prohibited members from joining other professional organizations.23 When elections were held in May 1952 to choose a new head and board of directors, a “fierce battle” ensued, with disagreements centering on whether musicians with day jobs in another field should be allowed to join.24 The issue was escalated to the State Council, who ruled that anyone employed in the artistic field could be a member, but musicians with day jobs in unrelated fields could not. This marking of professional boundaries, and controlling access to the labor market, was typical of how professional syndicates functioned more broadly, as Chiffoleau (1997) has noted in relation to medicine. The professionalization of the music scene necessitated the exclusion of those who didn’t fit the narrowing definition of a professional musician.

The Syndicate under the Free Officers and Nasser: 1952-1958

  • 25Niqâbat al-mûsîqiyyîn hall al-majlis al-qadîm wa-intikhâb ghayrihi [The Musicians’ Syndicate disso (...)

13The syndicate underwent significant transformations during Gamal Abdel Nasser’s presidency. When the Free Officers’ Movement overthrew King Farouk in July 1952, individuals and institutions sought to distance themselves from their previous association with Farouk to ensure political favor with the new regime. Journalist Mohamed Ouda recalled that members of the syndicate were concerned that their leader Umm Kulthum’s previous coziness with the King might threaten their status and their ability to function and consequently attempted to eject her and dismantle the old board of administration (Goldman 1996, 43:19). A vote was held in October 1952 to decide whether a new board and leader should be elected: 164 members voted to dismantle the existing board, with just 17 votes to keep the board intact.25

  • 26Idmâj niqâbatay al-mûsîqiyyîn fi iqlîmay sûriyâ wa-misr [Merging the Musicians’ Syndicates in the (...)

14The decision was perhaps a sensible precaution. While Egypt was led by Mohammed Naguib and Gamal Abdel Nasser’s interim government, the authorities “intimidated syndicates by purging them of prominent ancien régime figures” (Springborg 1978, 281). But the musicians need not have worried. As Danielson notes, “Umm Kulthum’s connections to the previous regime were not close enough to jeopardize her career” (1997, 162) or that of the institution she headed. In fact, she established a close working relationship with Nasser as he consolidated power, her nationalistic songs and international fame bolstering his pan-Arab aspirations. During the United Arab Republic period, there were even discussions of bringing together the Egyptian and Syrian Musicians’ Syndicates, with documents being sent from Cairo to the board in Damascus to lay the groundwork for the merger.26

15In 1955, a law (Law 142 of 1955) was issued regarding the Musicians’, Cinema, and Actors’ Syndicates, which were to be re-established under the control of the Ministry of National Guidance. The law detailed the purpose of the artistic syndicates as follows:

  1. Working to promote these professions in all their aspects in line with the requirements of global artistic progress.

  2. Protecting the rights of members among themselves and in relation to others.

  3. Strengthening the bonds of fellowship between members.

  4. Helping members to demonstrate and develop their artistic talents and striving to find them work.

    • 27 Article 2, Law 142 of 1955.

    Seeking to resolve disputes that arise between members or between them and others.27 

  • 28 Article 48, Law 142 of 1955.
  • 29 Ibid.

16There is continuity, then, in a rhetoric of the syndicate existing primarily to support its members. The law dictated that a pension and benefits fund should be established so that members would be entitled to pensions at retirement age (conditional on thirty years of service in the profession) and up to one month’s salary in times of exceptional hardship.28 This would be self-funded through syndicate activities, specifically subsidies, donations, and revenues from concerts or lotteries organized by the Syndicate; 60% of registration and membership fees (members would be required to pay two pounds annually); a 1% levy on members’ wages; a 1% levy on members’ revenue from the sale of records and recordings; interest and profits on the fund balance; and fines.29

  • 30 Article 60, Law 142 of 1955.
  • 31 Article 6, Law 142 of 1955.
  • 32 Article 35, Law 142 of 1955
  • 33Hadatha hâdhâ al-usbû‘ [Happened this Week],” al-Kawâkib, August 5, 1958, 34.

17The law stipulated that anyone performing without syndicate membership would be punished by up to one month in prison, and/or a fine of up to EGP 50.30 This signaled an escalation from the previous situation which simply required non-members to pay a fee. Only Egyptians (and foreigners licensed to reside in Egypt for at least five years) would be eligible for membership. Members were required to have a “good reputation,” be practicing music as their sole profession, and either have a relevant educational certificate or have reached a level of education and professional competence as judged by the syndicate committee, presumably proven through an audition.31 Those who behaved in a manner that “implies a lack of integrity or honor” would be referred to a disciplinary board, and would be fined up to EGP 20, to be paid to the syndicate fund. If this went unpaid, the member would be suspended or expelled.32 A few months after the law was passed, the Syndicate board formed a committee of three members whose job it was to visit cabarets, theaters, and the Music Institute to prevent non-members from practicing any artistic activities. Amateur musicians would be stopped from performing, and only full syndicate members would be permitted.33 Thus, under Nasser, both the exclusionary nature of the syndicate and its welfare provisions expanded, with the former being used to fund the latter.

  • 34 “About the Syndicate”, Musicians’ Syndicate website. Discussion of this decision is conspicuously a (...)
  • 35 Article 75, Law 118 of 1958. See also Farîd (1999, 47).

18However, on August 12, 1958, Nasser effectively froze the Musicians’ Syndicate, along with the other artistic syndicates.34 This move came amid broader attempts to tighten his grip over professional syndicates. Nasser stated that he disapproved of their “bourgeois character” (Longneusse and Monciaud 2011, 4), though likely felt threatened by their close connections to the old regime and the fact that the lawyers’, journalists’, and teachers’ syndicates had supported his rival Mohammed Naguib in the 1954 leadership battle (Bianchi 1989, 91). Nasser’s early attempts to contain the syndicates were “relatively ineffective” (Springborg 1978, 283-4). By the 1960s, Nasser had dissolved several and purged others of politically oppositional members. Bianchi (1989) notes that the less politically threatening syndicates, like those for doctors and agronomists (and we might add to this list the musicians) were placed under the direction of high-ranking military officers. This was done through a new law requiring anyone on a syndicate board “to be members of the National Union (and subsequently the Arab Socialist Union)” (Moore 1974, 211). Given that the board members of the Musicians’ Syndicate were not, a temporary committee was appointed by the Minister of Culture, to be dissolved after three months and the holding of new elections.35 But permission was never granted for new elections to be held, and the artistic syndicates remained inactive for the next twenty years.

19During this time, it appears musicians did not have had access to the welfare provisions previously offered by the syndicate. However, Nasser’s support of the arts combined with his development of a more inclusive social welfare program would likely have more than compensated for the loss of the syndicate’s benefits. The Ministry of National Guidance (which became the Ministry of Culture in 1958) was responsible for funding and managing popular culture. The regime initially focused on the patronage of Western art music, for example by establishing the Cairo Symphony Orchestra. But Umm Kulthum and Abdel Wahab protested, leading to the foundation of two Arabic music ensembles, in 1967 and 1969 (El Shawan 1980, 103). Minister of Culture Tharwat Okasha established several folk music ensembles, including the Firqa al-Qawmiyya li-l-Funūn al-Sha‘bîyya, and in the early 1960s key pieces of musical infrastructure like the Cairo Balloon Theatre, the Reda Folkloric Troupe, and record manufacturing were nationalized (Frishkopf 2008). Through these interventions, Nasser created extensive work opportunities for many musicians, who became government employees. This in turn made them eligible for Nasser’s pension program, which extended coverage from only civil servants and military personnel to other urban workers, especially those in the public sector (Kawamura 2021, 92). State support of the arts was contingent, though, on artists’ producing work that aligned with Nasser’s vision of national modernity.

Re-Establishing the Syndicate: 1978-2010

20In 1978, a law finally re-established the artistic syndicates. Discussions had been ongoing in the press since the early 1970s over when this moment would arrive. The growing desire to re-establish the Musicians’ Syndicate at this specific moment had roots in the broader musical and socio-political context as the country shifted away from Nasser’s state socialism to President Anwar Sadat’s more market-oriented policies. State support of the arts began to wane, and many musicians turned to the private sector (nightclubs, cabarets, and private recording companies) for work. It was a time of major cultural upheaval in Egypt, as older high-art singers like Umm Kulthum and Farid al-Atrash died and new voices, particularly wedding and nightclub singers performing a style called sha‘bî (meaning “popular” or “of the masses”) found favor with listeners. As Simon (2022, 81) has argued, there was a great deal of public concern about who had the power to be a cultural producer, as during the 1970s and 1980s cassette tapes democratized the means of cultural production, enabling new musical genres to proliferate. Calls to re-establish the syndicate came primarily from older, established musicians who were feeling threatened and increasingly worried about losing out on work to younger colleagues and newer styles, which were proving a hit with audiences. These older musicians, it seems, were hoping that the syndicate would help them assert their superiority by continuing to function as it had before: as a means of policing the boundaries of the profession and controlling access to work.

  • 36 ‘Abdel Ghanî, Sa‘îd, “Al-Fanânûn bila niqâba mundhu 14 ‘âman [The artists without a syndicate for 1 (...)

21The desire for a pension and material support was also a deciding factor in the syndicate’s reestablishment. In a 1972 article “Artists without a Syndicate for 14 years,” for example, al-Ahrâm journalist Said Abdel Ghani argued that a syndicate would enable artists to assert their rights and live honorably after years of “artistic impotence,” lamenting the fact that musicians were struggling due to a lack of pensions and material support.36 As the decade wore on, we can presume this need became more pressing: although Sadat expanded welfare provisions including pensions in what Kawamura (2021, 93) describes as an attempt to gain legitimacy among his detractors and those losing out due to his other policies, beneficiaries remained primarily those working in the formal sector. Musicians would likely not have been covered after shifting to informal work in the private sector. Even if they were covered, syndicate pensions were paid in addition to state pensions, which remained minimal. Additionally, funding for health programs was reduced as Sadat instead promoted a private health sector, and government hospitals increasingly deteriorated. Re-establishing the syndicate would have seemed an attractive means to supplement the diminishing welfare offered by the state.

  • 37 Ibrâhîm, Ismâ‘îl and ‘Awâtif Sâdiq. 1979. “‘Awdat al-rûh li-l-niqâbât al-fanniyya [The spirit retur (...)
  • 38 Ibid.

22The period that followed the artistic syndicates’ reestablishment was one of intense activity, with “constant movement, meetings that go on until midnight, [and] discussions.”37 There were heated election battles, with candidate Ahmed Shafiq Abu Auf pledging to preserve Arabic music and reorganize music education in schools, and Kamal Hilal endeavoring to improve pensions and ensure that pay kept pace with the current cost of living.38 In the end, it was Ahmed Fuad Hasan, a respected instrumentalist and representative of the mainstream musical aesthetic of the 1950-1990 period, who became head of the Musicians’ Syndicate, remaining in charge until his death in 1993.

  • 39 “Joint Committee Report of the Culture, Media, and Tourism Committee and the Office of the Local Go (...)

23Law 35 of 1978 overturned the 1958 law that had been governing the artistic syndicates, as it reportedly “did not effectively achieve the goals for which it was issued, which is why the past twenty years witnessed stagnation in these syndicates.”39 The new law sought to:

  • 40 Ibid.

“establish three syndicates in order to organize work in the performing, cinematic, and musical arts; guarantee the artistic and cultural level of those working in them; care for their interests and secure their futures… [while] holding the artist accountable through his syndicate when he deviates in expressing society’s goals.”40

  • 41 Article 3, Law 35 of 1978.
  • 42 Ibid.
  • 43 Article 5, Law 35 of 1978.
  • 44 Article 58, Law 35 of 1978.

24The details of the law are clearly based on the 1958 law, but with several revealing amendments. A more extensive welfare provision was offered, as the syndicate was required to “care for the interests of its members, and provide economic and cultural services and assistance when needed with regards to pension, disability and death, and health insurance.”41 The syndicate was also charged with “providing work for members, [and] encouraging cooperation amongst them.”42 A new regulation allowed non-members to apply for temporary work permits for an undisclosed fee plus 20% of wages earned.43 The annual membership fee was increased from two to four pounds, and members were to contribute 2% of their wages to the syndicate fund (double the percentage stipulated by the 1958 law).44 It remained illegal for non-members to perform, and this could now result in imprisonment and a fine of EGP 500 (a tenfold increase from the penalty imposed in 1958).

  • 45 Article 47, Law 35 of 1978.
  • 46 From 1963-1978, overall membership of professional syndicates quadrupled (Bianchi 1989, 94).

25Funding streams for the syndicate’s welfare obligations remained largely unchanged between 1958 and 1978, with one important addition: “grants, subsidies, and donations, whether provided by government departments, agencies, bodies, or public sector units, or provided by other parties and individuals.”45 This meant that the government could now contribute to the syndicate directly, though was not required to. This was indicative of Sadat’s conditional support of professional syndicates, which grew immensely under his tenure.46 Although he initially perceived them as threats, by 1976 he had decided to work with them, shaping them into “reliable instruments of control and co-optation” (Bianchi 1989, 84). Sadat “combined political pressures and economic incentives to reward the more loyal Syndicates and to divide the more unruly ones” (Ibid., 93). He created several new professional syndicates and encouraged them to focus on profit making by working with the private sector (Ibid., 84-5), especially through investment and real estate.

  • 47 al-Damrânî, Mustafa. 1979. “Niqâbat al-mûsîqiyyîn wa al-naghama al-sahîha [The Musicians’ Syndicate (...)
  • 48Hatta yu’addiya al-fann al-misrî dawrahu fî harakat al-taqaddum wa-lâ yaltahimahu al-ghazw al-thaq (...)
  • 49Hatta yu’addiya al-fann al-misrî dawrahu fî harakat al-taqaddum wa-lâ yaltahimahu al-ghazw al-thaq (...)
  • 50 Ibid.
  • 51 Ibid.

26Despite an initial focus on welfare and pensions when the syndicate was being re-established, it soon began to focus more on policing and exclusion. Numerous well-known musicians and commentators called for the Syndicate to police Egypt’s music scene more harshly, and the Syndicate took an increasingly interventionist approach. Al-Ahrâm journalist (and poet) Mustafa al-Damrani, for instance, reminded the syndicate of its responsibility to fight musical degradation and “triviality (isfâf)” and to ensure that only the “right tone (al-naghama al-sahîha)” entered the nation’s ears, suggesting that this goal could be achieved by requiring all musicians and composers featured on the radio to be syndicate members. He also suggested it forms a special committee to help the police in their efforts to stop cassette piracy.47 Similarly, in 1983 a symposium was held in Cairo to discuss the “deteriorating state of art and culture.”48 Reporting on the event, an article in al-Ahrâm declared that “the artistic syndicates are not playing their role as they should,” adding that “most opinions demand state intervention to confront attempts to distort art and artists!”49 Singer Yasmin al-Khayyam (a protégé of President Sadat and his wife) noted several problems facing musicians, such as the high cost of producing songs, exaggerated wages for some artists, and foreign musicians having priority over Egyptians, before stating, “I believe the state should intervene to protect good purposeful art and good committed artists.”50 The head of the Federation of Artistic Syndicates, Sa‘ad al-Din Wahba, blamed the Musicians’ Syndicate directly for these problems, noting that “the syndicate’s law allows for intervention… in my capacity as the head of the Federation of Artistic Syndicates, I demand the Musicians’ Syndicate act and propose solutions”.51

  • 52 Ibid.
  • 53Hatta yu’addiya al-fann al-misrî dawrahu fî harakat al-taqaddum wa-lâ yaltahimahu al-ghazw al-thaq (...)

27Throughout the symposium, there was no discussion of the welfare or working conditions of musicians. In fact, music was positioned as the enemy, with actor Hamdy Ahmed asserting that because “song is the most dangerous art form” it is “the responsibility of the syndicates to practice their political role and their social role” in controlling it, and composer Aziz al-Shawan warning that “songs are more dangerous than drugs.”52 Responding to the criticism that he wasn’t doing enough, Musicians’ Syndicate head Ahmed Fuad Hasan argued that the “current crisis” facing music was the result of “a long series of musical diseases which began to appear on the body of Egyptian art in the 1970s,” diseases that included a lack of skilled musicians and trained voices.53

  • 54 Ibid.

28Throughout his tenure as head of the syndicate, Ahmed Fuad Hasan heeded calls to police the music scene with increasing vigor, for instance appealing to the Minister of the Interior to collaborate with the Artistic Works Police (shurtat al-musannafât al-fanniyya) to help implement syndicate law.54 This policing focused primarily on the novel styles of sha‘bî (sometimes termed “cabaret music”) and shabâbî (meaning “youth”) music, whose popularity and new production styles were threatening the livelihoods of more established musicians. As Fayrûz Karâwiya notes, there was a battle between singer and producer Hamid al-Sha‘iri and the syndicate in the late 1980s, as the syndicate felt that his use of audio sampling, new production techniques, and synthesizers (as opposed to acoustic instruments) threatened musicians’ sources of income (2002, 224). The syndicate accused him of threatening public taste, and in 1993 suspended his membership (ibid.).

  • 55 Âmâl Bakîr, “Birwâz” [Frame],” al-Ahrâm, 21 December, 1986, 16.
  • 56 Ibid.

29There was pushback against the syndicate’s increasingly intrusive approach, however. Theatre critic Amal Bakir criticized the Musicians’ Syndicate for warning an actor who dared to sing a few songs during a play without a license that he must stop singing or face “dire consequences.”55 She thought the syndicate should stay “far from censorship,” and reminded readers of important old musicians who were doctors, lawyers, and army colonels—these musicians had not been affiliated with the syndicate but nonetheless made valuable contributions to the field.56 Similarly, the author of a 1991 Akhbar al-Yawm article, “Shame of the Syndicates” (cited in al-al-Bannâ 1993, 49), warned that Ahmed Fuad Hasan had become so strict that he would even punish those who sing to themselves in the bathroom. The author goes on:

“We had imagined when we called for the establishment of syndicates for artists that it would be a shield protecting the creators, not a sword directed against them; it would incubate new talent, not stifle it; that its battle would be to protect the freedom of artistic creativity and to guarantee the rights of its members; it would benefit creativity and not prohibit it, narrowing its space.”

30Outraged by the fact that performing without a license could result in prison sentences and fines, the author mused that while it made sense for engineers to require a license to practice, because a collapsed building could cause injuries, it didn’t make sense in the field of music: “What danger do we fear from someone who sings or performs without a license? Will people die of a heart attack if [modal scale] sîka turns into bayyâtî?!”

  • 57Ihâlat al-mutriba ‘Rûbî’ ilâ muhâkama ‘âgila li-muzâwalatihâ al-ghinâ’ bidûn tarkhîs [Referral of (...)
  • 58 For examples from the 1980s to the 2010s, see problems faced by Moroccan Samira Said (“Akhbar al-sa (...)

31The syndicate’s restrictions increasingly affected various types of musicians. Rank-and-file musicians working in nightclubs faced problems for performing without the required membership, and were fined by syndicate and police officials conducting spot checks on venues (Zirbel 1999, 221). High-profile female singers also faced problems, with a lack of syndicate membership or lack of correct permits proving an easy way to target anyone whose behavior was seen as being at odds with the norms of conservative morality. Egyptian singer Ruby, for example, widely critiqued for her risqué music videos, was put on trial for “practicing music without a license.”57 Foreign artists were also increasingly targeted. Since its inception, the syndicate had been for Egyptian citizens only, leaving those without citizenship no choice but to pay the fines levied upon them for performing without the required membership, or apply for expensive special permissions.58

  • 59Niqâbat al-mûsîqiyyîn tasrif ta‘wîdât li-â‘dâ’ihâ [The Musicians’ Syndicate pays compensation to i (...)
  • 60 Rushdî, ‘Abdel Ghafâr. “Insha‘ madîna lil-mumaththilîn fî 6 ûktûbar [Creating a city for actors in (...)
  • 61 Al-Zamar, “Niqâbat al-mûsîqiyyîn,” 32.
  • 62 al-Damrânî, Mustafa. “Azmat al-ma‘âshât fî al-niqâbât al-fanniyya [Pension crisis in the artistic s (...)
  • 63 Ibid.

32During these years, the syndicate was doing some additional work to fulfill its broader duty of care to its members. After a nightclub riot in 1986, the syndicate stepped in to compensate musicians who had lost income due to the event.59 They also invested in land in Giza with the intention of creating a “musicians’ city” to provide affordable housing for its members, inspiring a similar enterprise by the Actors’ Syndicate.60 In 2006, the syndicate “demanded an end to injustice for its members,” campaigning for nightclubs and hotels—where 75% of the syndicate’s 28,000 members worked—to increase musicians’ wages in line with their considerable profits.61 The syndicate’s continued efforts to provide hardship support, medical assistance, and pensions, were, however, mired in problems as it struggled to fund these endeavors. In 2002 there was a pension crisis in the artistic syndicates due to a “lack of financial resources” that threatened to undermine the syndicates’ humanitarian mission,” with musicians’ pensions going unpaid for over two months.62 The proposed solution, agreed upon by the artistic syndicates and the government, was to increase the fee required by non-members to perform to EGP 20,000 for Egyptians or EGP 40,000 for non-Egyptians per performance. Not paying this substantial fee would result in prison for up to three months, and/or a fine of at least EGP 20,000.63 Here, the intertwined relationship between the welfare and policing aspects of the syndicate is articulated more clearly than ever before.

  • 64 The 1991 figure is CAPMAS cited in Longuenesse (1995, 34). The other figures are from CAPMAS, “Egyp (...)
  • 65 Membership hovered around 900-950 people between 1963 and 1978 (Bianchi 1989, 95).

33Understandably, given the increasingly harsh punishments levied against non-members, membership increased significantly: from 4,358 in 1991 to 6,000 in 2000, then ballooning to 28,000 in 2006.64 Despite the syndicate’s failure to provide the promised welfare, being a member at least offered access to the labor market, which, at a time when the welfare state was being dismantled, was perhaps all one could hope for. When pensions were paid, and when hardship or healthcare support was available, it was a bonus. This was how professional syndicates functioned under both Anwar Sadat and Hosni Mubarak, as Longuenesse and Monciaud (2011) have noted: taking over functions previously assigned to the state, thus partially “relieving the state of its social mission” (7). Membership no longer held the exclusive prestige it may have held in the past when there were far fewer members,65 but it did grant people the chance to supplement what little the state was offering, helping them survive in difficult economic conditions. There was growing coziness between the syndicate and the government from its reestablishment in 1978, as the government supported the syndicate’s increasingly restrictive bylaws to enable it to fund its welfare obligations and helped it crack down on new musical genres that threatened the livelihoods of established musicians or were deemed at odds with a state-led vision of a modern and respectable country.

The Syndicate since 2011

34This coziness only increased in subsequent years. In January 2011, protestors famously overthrew Mubarak. As in 1952, a change in national leadership provoked many institutions to try and shed their association with the previous regime. In February 2011, syndicate members protested the corruption of the syndicate head, composer Munir al-Wassimi. Elections were held in July 2011 and singer Iman al-Bahr Darwish was elected, although there was no substantial change in how the syndicate functioned. In 2015, with the election of Hany Shaker as leader, the syndicate rose to unprecedented levels of public prominence. Several high-profile cases made the syndicate and Hany Shaker front-page news. Shaker appeared to be on a personal crusade against Egypt’s music scene, banning and arresting scores of singers and musicians on grounds of debauchery or lack of membership or permits.

35This led many writers, critics, and musicians to conclude that the syndicate became increasingly censorial when Hany Shaker became its president.66 However, given the history of the syndicate outlined in this article, Shaker’s actions should instead be understood as a continuation of how it had functioned since 1978 (or even 1958, before it was frozen): the fines and prison sentences he doled out were enshrined in the 1958 and 1978 laws governing the syndicate. Furthermore, his concerns closely echoed those of previous leaders in terms of policing particular aspects of Egypt’s music scene. Artists performing without syndicate membership were targeted, impacting numerous rank-and-file musicians working in nightclubs and cabarets (Frankford 2023), as were those deemed to be sitting outside of conservative moral norms (especially female singers), as well as foreign artists and musicians performing new musical genres that were deemed vulgar, most notoriously mahragânât.

36Mahragânât artists were not allowed to audition to become members, allegedly because they did not fit neatly into the available membership sections: singer, instrumentalist, composer, or DJ. They were not deemed to be singing, because their voices were so heavily auto-tuned, but they were not considered as DJs either. Without the option of syndicate membership, there was no legal way for them to work. The syndicate made exceptions for high-profile mahragânât artists, allowing Oka Wi Ortega into the DJ category, for instance. The majority, however, remained unaffiliated, leading to several high-profile conflicts between Shaker and mahragânât artists. Underlying Shaker’s anti-mahragânât campaign were two interrelated impulses. First, a disdain for non-elite culture, aligning with a broader state-driven narrative against the popular classes and the informal housing areas with which they are associated (and where mahragânât originated). Second, as audiences increasingly wanted to listen to electronic mahragânât above other styles, the livelihoods of older established musicians (who were syndicate members) were felt to be under threat, and Shaker aimed to exclude mahragânât artists from the scene to protect members’ income. In this way, Shaker’s campaign against mahragânât echoed earlier syndicate campaigns in the 1980s and 1990s against sha‘bî and shabâbî music. And as in the past, moments of increased policing appear to result in increased syndicate membership: in 2006 there were 28,000 members; in 2013 there were 43,282 members; in 2015 there were 53,526 members; and in 2016 there were 63,023.

  • 67Al-mihan al-mûsîqiyya: Milyûn gunayh îrâdât lagnat al-‘amal fî aqall min 14 yawman [The Musicians’ (...)
  • 68 Ibid.
  • 69Niqâbat al-mihan al-mûsîqiyya: Mîzâniyyat al-niqâba tablugh 12 milyûn gunayh [The Musicians’ Syndi (...)
  • 70Al-mihan al-mûsîqiyya taftatih markazan tibbîyan wa-tabda’ al-‘amal fî akbar mashrû‘ ‘ilâgî [The M (...)
  • 71Al-mihan al-mûsîqiyya tuqarrir raf‘ ma‘âshât [The Musicians’ Syndicate decides to raise pensions], (...)
  • 72 CAPMAS “Al-nashra al-sanawiyya li-ihsâ‘ât al-khadamât al-igtimâ‘iyya [Annual Bulletin of Social Ser (...)
  • 73 Ibid., 2016; 2019; 2020.

37The increase in revenue from membership fees, new fees that all nightclubs and venues holding musical events are now required to pay, and the extensive exclusion (and accompanying fines) brought in vast amounts of money to the syndicate fund. Since Shaker became leader, there has been no talk of a pension crisis. Instead, he and his successor, singer Mostafa Kamel (well known for composing the pro-army, anti-revolution song “Teslam el-Ayâdî”), boast about the incredible revenues they are bringing in for the syndicate. They have periodically increased pensions and expanded healthcare provision, highlighting that the Pension and Benefits Fund is financed entirely by the syndicate’s Work Committee (the team responsible for collecting membership fees and fines).67 In 2017, the Work Committee collected over EGP 1,000,000 in just 14 days in revenue from concerts on Egypt’s North Coast, which during the summer months hosts regular concerts featuring high-profile pop stars.68 Hany Shaker reported that the syndicate’s funds had reached EGP 12,000,000 in 2017, representing an increase of around EGP 4,000,000 from usual levels.69 The same year, the syndicate confirmed that its medical insurance program was the strongest and largest in its history. It increased the monthly treatment allowance from EGP 350 to EGP 500, extended the program to cover most hospitals and clinics across the country, and announced that it would bear 75% of hospital bills. It even planned to build a dedicated medical center for members.70 In 2018, the pension was raised for the fifth time in two years.71 Syndicate spending on welfare services during these years did indeed increase, from EGP 10.7 million in 2015 to EGP 13.2 million in 2016, to EGP 19.2 million in 2018, and to EGP 31.4 million in 2019.72 From the little data available, it appears approximately 3,500-7,000 members benefitted from these services each year.73

  • 74 Tarek Mortada, “Hasan Abû al-Su‘ûd: Raf‘ ma‘ashât al-mûsîqiyîn wa-tagdîd mabnâ al-niqâba [Hasan Abu (...)

38In practice, accessing welfare is not always straightforward, as I witnessed during fieldwork with wedding and nightclub musicians. For example, when elderly sha‘bî singer Magdy Tal‘at was hospitalized, fellow sha‘bî singers had to publicly mount campaigns directed at the syndicate in order for it to contribute to the treatment to which he was legally entitled. Syndicate membership, then, provides something of a bargaining chip: a tool that members can use to help access material support, rather than automatic access to this support. I also knew a few musicians who continued to rely on public hospitals, despite the syndicate providing access to private hospital care, perhaps due to the challenge of paying the remaining expenses not covered by the syndicate or the challenges of filling in syndicate insurance claim forms for those not comfortably literate. Similarly, despite the increases, most musicians complained about the small pension, which was just EGP 600 a month (approximately USD 33 USD at the time). Considering that in 2003 the pension was EGP 200 a month, the lauded increases were not even keeping pace with inflation.74

  • 75 Ironically, these wedding/nightclub musicians who are most vocal in calling for the Syndicate to be (...)
  • 76 Omar, Eslam. 2022. “Egyptian Musicians Syndicate sets new conditions for authorising Mahraganat sin (...)

39Many wedding and nightclub musicians also complained that the syndicate was not doing enough to fulfill its obligation to help members find work.75 They criticized the fact that venues were increasingly unwilling to pay to hire a full band, instead hiring a singer accompanied by a DJ or backing tracks. In response, the syndicate brought in new laws in 2022 requiring all singers—and specifically naming mahragânât artists and rappers—to be accompanied by a band of at least 12 musicians who must be registered with the Syndicate.76 The law was welcomed among my interlocutors, and certainly opened up new work opportunities, especially with mahragânât artists. However, they continue to complain that the law is not enforced strongly enough. In an impassioned and widely shared 2023 Facebook post titled “An important announcement to the Musicians’ Syndicate,” a musician in his early fifties gives a 15-minute to-camera account of how, when musicians show up to work, they will frequently be told the venue is too small for the whole band, or that there already is a DJ, so only a couple of musicians will be needed. The rest are sent away unpaid. He implored the syndicate to better enforce the laws they created, expressing bemusement that the syndicate fines venues and singers EGP 2,000 for not abiding by its laws, instead of just enforcing the law and ensuring that musicians are hired and paid a fair wage. It is wonderful that the syndicate is making these astonishing revenues, he concluded sarcastically, but it does not exist to merely collect money; it exists to support musicians, and he begged them to do more to fulfill this obligation.

Conclusion

40This article has attempted to counteract the general amnesia surrounding the historical development of Egypt’s Musicians’ Syndicate to better understand its apparently contradictory functions of providing welfare for its members on the one hand, and its heavy-handed policing of the music scene on the other. Tracing the development of the syndicate from the 1940s to the early 2020s provides interesting terrain from which to consider changing responsibilities of the state when it comes to the welfare of its citizens. The state has long relied on the input of non-state groups, including professional syndicates and associations, to supplement its own provisions while also seeking to control them. This changed under Nasser, but accelerated again under Sadat as the state began to offer less and less to its citizens, who were forced to turn elsewhere for support. The way the Musicians’ Syndicate functions today is effectively representative of how the welfare state operates in Egypt: there is so little actually publicly available, people are pushed to rely on special-interest groups like this one. The Musicians’ Syndicate is one potential means through which individuals might gain access to resources that are not available to everyone, such as private healthcare and pensions, but perhaps most importantly, access to employment in what is a competitive free-market environment with no guaranteed work.

Acknowledgements
Many thanks to Giedrė Šabasevičiūtė, Carl Rommel, and the two anonymous reviewers for their thoughtful comments and suggestions. Thank you to Chihab El Khachab who encouraged me to better contextualize my ethnographic observations about the syndicate by thinking about its history, as well as Nicolas Puig for our discussions on the topic. Thank you to Malak Labib and Pascale Ghazaleh, the organizers of the “Impossible Archives” conference held at IFAO, Cairo, where Nicolas and I co-presented a paper on the syndicate, including some of this research. Thanks also to Tine Lavent and Noha Mostafa at the Netherlands-Flemish Institute in Cairo, Mohamed Abdelwahab at The American University in Cairo, and Hala Bayoumi and the librarians at CEDEJ for their help accessing relevant material. This article was made possible thanks to a Postdoctoral Fellowship at CEDEJ; many thanks to CEDEJ and to my colleagues there. Last but most certainly not least, thank you to the musicians in Cairo who shared their experiences with me.

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Notes

1 The official Arabic name is Niqâbat al-mihan al-mûsîqiyya; often referred to conversationally as niqâbat al-musîqîyyîn or al-niqâba. It is sometimes translated into English as the Musicians’ Union.

2 Central Agency for Public Mobilization and Statistics (CAPMAS), “Al-nashra al-sanawiyya li-ihsâ’ât al-khadamât al-ijtimâ‘iyya”: 2019 [Annual Bulletin of Social Services Statistics: 2019]. In 2019 the exchange rate averaged $1 to EGP 17.

3 El Rashidi 2023, Karâwiya 2022, 224-25, and Puig 2020, 405-6 discuss the syndicate in passing in terms of its policing practices, and Abu Ghazi 1992 has written on the Artistic Syndicate Federation (of which the Musicians’ Syndicate is a part). Some policy documents also address the Syndicate (Ramadan 2019; 2021; Ezzat et al. 2014). Beyond these, however, the syndicate has not received sustained attention.

4 Other professional syndicates in Egypt have received substantial attention, perhaps given their larger member bases, and their more explicit engagement with party politics. See, for instance, Chiffoleau 1997; Moore 1980; Ried 1974; Springborg 1978; Bianchi 1989; Qandil 1994; Kandil 1998; ‘Abd al-Mun‘im 1993; al-Bannâ 2011.

5 al-Zamar, ‘Alâ’. “Niqâbat al-mûsîqiyyîn tutâlib bi-raf‘ al-zulm ‘an a‘dâ’ihâ [The Musicians’ Syndicate demands an end to injustice against its members],” al-Ahrâm, June 14, 2006, 32.

6Bayân min al-mûsîqiyyîn al-muhtarifîn [Statement from the Professional Musicians],” al-Ahrâm, November 4, 1942, 3.

7 See Vigreux (1992) and Lagrange (1994, 189) for more on such groups, which included the al-Ahli Music Institute (ma‘had al-mûsîqa al-âhlî), and the Syndicate and Institute of Eastern Music (niqâbat wa-ma‘had al-mûsîqa al-shârqî) founded in 1920 and renamed the Music Union Institute (ma‘had al-ittihâd al-mûsîqî) in 1935. This earlier syndicate was independent, i.e. not affiliated with the state.

8 “About the Syndicate”, n.d., Musicians’ Syndicate website, accessed November 9, 2023.

9Akhbâr al-masârih [Theatre news],” Âkhir Sâ‘a, November 22, 1942, 17.

10 al-Musawwar, January 15, 1943, 10.

11 Despite facing opposition for being a woman (Danielson 1991, 307), Umm Kulthum went on to win seven consecutive elections.

12 “About the Syndicate”, Musicians’ Syndicate website.

13 Article 3, Law 85 of 1942. Note that there was no distinction made between professional syndicates and trade unions until the following decade.

14 Article 6, Law 85 of 1942.

15 Article 21, Law 85 of 1942.

16 Article 12, Law 85 of 1942.

17 Several syndicate employees told me that records going that far back are not kept.

18 al-Ithnayn, October 20, 1947, 4.

19Hadatha hâdhâ al-usbû‘ [Happened this Week],” al-Kawâkib, June 3, 1952, 6.

20Ma‘raka hâmiya.. fî intikhâbât niqâbat al-mûsîqiyyîn [A Fierce Battle.. in the Musicians’ Syndicate Elections],” al-Kawâkib, May 20, 1952, 29.

21Hadatha hâdhâ al-usbû‘ [Happened this Week],” al-Kawâkib, May 27, 1952, 4.

22Ma‘raka hâmiya,” 29.

23Hadatha hâdhâ al-usbû‘ [Happened this Week],” al-Kawâkib, June 3, 1952, 6.

24Ma‘raka hâmiya,” 28.

25Niqâbat al-mûsîqiyyîn hall al-majlis al-qadîm wa-intikhâb ghayrihi [The Musicians’ Syndicate dissolved the old council and elected another],” al-Ahrâm, October 22, 1952, 9.

26Idmâj niqâbatay al-mûsîqiyyîn fi iqlîmay sûriyâ wa-misr [Merging the Musicians’ Syndicates in the regions of Syria and Egypt],” al-Ahrâm, February 27, 1958, 8.

27 Article 2, Law 142 of 1955.

28 Article 48, Law 142 of 1955.

29 Ibid.

30 Article 60, Law 142 of 1955.

31 Article 6, Law 142 of 1955.

32 Article 35, Law 142 of 1955

33Hadatha hâdhâ al-usbû‘ [Happened this Week],” al-Kawâkib, August 5, 1958, 34.

34 “About the Syndicate”, Musicians’ Syndicate website. Discussion of this decision is conspicuously absent from the press. I could not find any mention of it at all; any reference to the Musicians’ Syndicate simply stopped at this time. Similarly, when I asked colleagues who work in the syndicate, they said there are no official records held in the headquarters.

35 Article 75, Law 118 of 1958. See also Farîd (1999, 47).

36 ‘Abdel Ghanî, Sa‘îd, “Al-Fanânûn bila niqâba mundhu 14 ‘âman [The artists without a syndicate for 14 years],” al-Ahrâm, January 6, 1972, 5.

37 Ibrâhîm, Ismâ‘îl and ‘Awâtif Sâdiq. 1979. “‘Awdat al-rûh li-l-niqâbât al-fanniyya [The spirit returns to the Artistic Syndicates],” al-Ahrâm, March 5, 1979, 12.

38 Ibid.

39 “Joint Committee Report of the Culture, Media, and Tourism Committee and the Office of the Local Government and Popular Organizations Committee about the Proposal for a Draft Law Regarding Actors’ and Filmmakers’ and Musicians’ Syndicates, presented by the Culture, Media, and Tourism Committee” accompanying Law 35 of 1978.

40 Ibid.

41 Article 3, Law 35 of 1978.

42 Ibid.

43 Article 5, Law 35 of 1978.

44 Article 58, Law 35 of 1978.

45 Article 47, Law 35 of 1978.

46 From 1963-1978, overall membership of professional syndicates quadrupled (Bianchi 1989, 94).

47 al-Damrânî, Mustafa. 1979. “Niqâbat al-mûsîqiyyîn wa al-naghama al-sahîha [The Musicians’ Syndicate and the right tone],” al-Ahrâm, May 21, 1979, 13.

48Hatta yu’addiya al-fann al-misrî dawrahu fî harakat al-taqaddum wa-lâ yaltahimahu al-ghazw al-thaqâfî: ma huwa al-matlûb min al-dawla [wa] al-fannân? [So that Egyptian art plays its role in the progress movement and is not devoured by the cultural invasion: What is required of the state [and] the artist?],” al-Ahrâm, November 11, 1983, 9.

49Hatta yu’addiya al-fann al-misrî dawrahu fî harakat al-taqaddum wa-lâ yaltahimahu al-ghazw al-thaqâfî: hâdhâ al-fann risâla am tijâra? [So that Egyptian art plays its role in the progress movement, and is not devoured by the cultural invasion: Is this art a message or trade?],” al-Ahrâm, November 25, 1983, 9.

50 Ibid.

51 Ibid.

52 Ibid.

53Hatta yu’addiya al-fann al-misrî dawrahu fî harakat al-taqaddum wa-lâ yaltahimahu al-ghazw al-thaqâfî: al-masrah.. hal faqada dawrahu.. am jumhûrahu [So that Egyptian art plays its role in the progress movement and is not devoured by the cultural invasion: Theatre, has it lost its role or its audience],” al-Ahrâm, December 2, 1983, 9.

54 Ibid.

55 Âmâl Bakîr, “Birwâz” [Frame],” al-Ahrâm, 21 December, 1986, 16.

56 Ibid.

57Ihâlat al-mutriba ‘Rûbî’ ilâ muhâkama ‘âgila li-muzâwalatihâ al-ghinâ’ bidûn tarkhîs [Referral of the singer ‘Ruby’ to an urgent trial for practicing singing without a license],” al-Ahrâm, May 30, 2004, 2.

58 For examples from the 1980s to the 2010s, see problems faced by Moroccan Samira Said (“Akhbar al-sabâh [Morning News],” al-Ahrâm, June 5, 1985, 16); Palestinian Salim Sahhab (“Hiwâr bayn wazîr al-thaqâfa wa-â‘dâ’ lagnat al-tadâmun al-misriyya [Discussion between the Minister of Culture and members of the Egyptian Solidarity Committee],” al-Ahrâm, June 16, 1994, 11); Iraqi Kazim Saher (“Wa-laylukum fann ma‘ Kâzim al-Sâhir [Your evening of art with Kazim al-Sahir],” al-Ahrâm, September 15, 2000, 2); and Syrian Asala (“al-Wasîmî: Âsâla lan ta‘ûd illâ bil-i‘tizâr [al-Wasimi: Asala will not return without an apology],” al-Ahrâm, December 29, 2010, 31).

59Niqâbat al-mûsîqiyyîn tasrif ta‘wîdât li-â‘dâ’ihâ [The Musicians’ Syndicate pays compensation to its members],” al-Ahrâm, March 3, 1986, 16.

60 Rushdî, ‘Abdel Ghafâr. “Insha‘ madîna lil-mumaththilîn fî 6 ûktûbar [Creating a city for actors in 6th of October City],” al-Ahrâm, March 2, 1996, 18. Despite the syndicate website showing floor plans of the apartments and details about how to apply, the project has yet to come to fruition.

61 Al-Zamar, “Niqâbat al-mûsîqiyyîn,” 32.

62 al-Damrânî, Mustafa. “Azmat al-ma‘âshât fî al-niqâbât al-fanniyya [Pension crisis in the artistic syndicates],” al-Ahrâm, May 29, 2002, 13.

63 Ibid.

64 The 1991 figure is CAPMAS cited in Longuenesse (1995, 34). The other figures are from CAPMAS, “Egypt in Numbers” (2000; 2006).

65 Membership hovered around 900-950 people between 1963 and 1978 (Bianchi 1989, 95).

66 See, for example, Ramadan (2019); Ahmad Naji, “Hânî Shâkir [Hany Shaker],” https://ahmednaji.net/2017/11/17/shak, November 17, 2017, accessed April 19, 2021; Mohammad Al Aswany, “Min al-niqâba lil-niqâba: rihlat al-intâg al-mûsîqî wa-tanzîm al-hafalât fî misr [From Censorship to the Syndicate: The Journey of Musical Production and Organisation of Concerts in Egypt],” Mada Masr, August 3, 2018; “Egypt’s Musicians’ Syndicate Bans Popular Mahraganat Music,” Egyptian Streets, February 17, 2020, accessed April 19, 2021.

67Al-mihan al-mûsîqiyya: Milyûn gunayh îrâdât lagnat al-‘amal fî aqall min 14 yawman [The Musicians’ Syndicate: A Million Pounds revenue for the Work Committee in less than 14 days],” Maspero, August 19, 2017. http://tinyurl.com/yc5uewdk, accessed January 14, 2024.

68 Ibid.

69Niqâbat al-mihan al-mûsîqiyya: Mîzâniyyat al-niqâba tablugh 12 milyûn gunayh [The Musicians’ Syndicate: The Syndicate’s budget reaches 12 million pounds],” Maspero, March 22, 2017. http://tinyurl.com/y72k89v5, accessed January 14, 2024.

70Al-mihan al-mûsîqiyya taftatih markazan tibbîyan wa-tabda’ al-‘amal fî akbar mashrû‘ ‘ilâgî [The Musicians’ Syndicate opens a medical centre and begins work on its largest healthcare project],” Maspero, February 25, 2016, http://tinyurl.com/mpn2cb6p, accessed January 14, 2024.

71Al-mihan al-mûsîqiyya tuqarrir raf‘ ma‘âshât [The Musicians’ Syndicate decides to raise pensions],” Maspero, January 20, 2018. http://tinyurl.com/4hmfd2mf, accessed January 14, 2024.

72 CAPMAS “Al-nashra al-sanawiyya li-ihsâ‘ât al-khadamât al-igtimâ‘iyya [Annual Bulletin of Social Services Statistics],” 2015; 2016; 2018; 2019.

73 Ibid., 2016; 2019; 2020.

74 Tarek Mortada, “Hasan Abû al-Su‘ûd: Raf‘ ma‘ashât al-mûsîqiyîn wa-tagdîd mabnâ al-niqâba [Hasan Abu al-Su’ud: Increasing musicians’ pensions and renovating the syndicate’s building]” al-Ahrâr, December 11, 2003.

75 Ironically, these wedding/nightclub musicians who are most vocal in calling for the Syndicate to be more exclusionary and to police novel musical styles more strictly, are precisely the musicians who, in the 1980s and 1990s, were performing the novel styles of the time, and were bearing the brunt of the syndicate’s crackdowns.

76 Omar, Eslam. 2022. “Egyptian Musicians Syndicate sets new conditions for authorising Mahraganat singers”, Ahram Online. https://english.ahram.org.eg/News/
478331.aspx, accessed January 20, 2024.

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Sophie Frankford, « Between Welfare and Exclusion: A History of Egypt’s Musicians’ Syndicate »Égypte Soudan mondes arabes, 25 | 2024, 73-96.

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Sophie Frankford, « Between Welfare and Exclusion: A History of Egypt’s Musicians’ Syndicate »Égypte Soudan mondes arabes [En ligne], 25 | 2024, mis en ligne le 13 janvier 2025, consulté le 13 juin 2026. URL : http://journals.openedition.org/esma/3362 ; DOI : https://doi.org/10.4000/134al

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Sophie Frankford



Sophie Frankford is a research associate at King’s College London working on the ERC/UKRI-funded project “Beyond 1932: Rethinking Musical Modernity in the Middle East and North Africa”. She holds a DPhil in Anthropology from the University of Oxford, and from 2022-2024 was a postdoctoral fellow at CEDEJ. Her research focuses on music in Egypt, with a particular interest in issues of social class, urban space, emotion/affect, and labor.

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