Blocking a website does more than prevent a reader from opening a page. It requires infrastructure, maintenance and enforcement, while depriving publishers of audiences and revenue. In a country imposing austerity and reducing support for vulnerable households, that expenditure raises a question: what does Egypt pay to restrict access to information?
There is no publicly established, comprehensive figure in the sources examined for this report. Adding a domain to an existing blocklist may cost very little; building and operating a national filtering system is a different matter. The economic damage to newsrooms and journalists is another cost altogether.
Reports documented at least 424 blocked websites by September 2017 and more than 500 in subsequent years. A September 2020 investigation by Al-Manassa cited a count exceeding 600, including more than 100 news and journalism sites. That is a historical estimate, not an updated census for 2025. The broader lists include rights organisations, political sites and services offering proxies or virtual private networks, not only news outlets.
Al Jazeera, Mada Masr, Al-Manassa and, more recently, Zawia3 are among the news platforms affected. Blocking has also targeted human-rights organisations and tools intended to circumvent censorship, including the Tor website and numerous VPN and proxy services.
Restrictions are implemented across internet-service providers, while the authority behind individual decisions often remains unclear. Officials have invoked terrorism and extremism to justify restrictions. Rights groups and publishers challenge both the breadth of the practice and its lack of transparency. Although later legislation provides formal appeal procedures, a publisher cannot readily challenge a decision whose issuer and grounds have not been disclosed.
Controlling the flow of information
Website blocking prevents users from reaching a site or service through a network. It may be implemented by service providers, government authorities or network administrators. In national censorship systems, it is used to restrict access on political, security, legal or social grounds.
A SMEX study by technology researcher Mohamed Taher describes common filtering methods across Arab countries. Different governments sometimes use similar software and equipment, although the sophistication and coverage of their systems vary.
IP blocking restricts traffic to or from particular internet addresses or ports. It can be circumvented when addresses change and may affect unrelated sites sharing the same infrastructure. DNS interference prevents a domain name from resolving correctly, for example by returning an incorrect response to a user’s lookup.
Deep packet inspection, or DPI, examines characteristics of network traffic to identify and filter connections. What it can observe depends on the protocol, encryption and implementation; it should not be confused with an automatic ability to read every encrypted message.
These methods can be presented as responses to terrorism or unlawful material. Critics argue that their expanded use in Egypt has also become a means of restricting independent journalism and political opposition.
One blocked domain is not the price of a censorship system
If a provider already has filtering equipment, adding one domain or IP address to a blocklist can have a very low marginal cost. The main expense lies in establishing and maintaining the system, not necessarily in each additional entry.
As restrictions expand, however, operators must maintain longer lists, follow changing addresses and mirror sites, and respond to attempts to evade blocks. This requires staff, software, processing capacity and continuing technical work. Costs do not rise at a fixed rate for every website, but neither are they limited to the original purchase of equipment.
A blocked website’s address can be added cheaply. Keeping a nationwide filtering system effective—and dealing with the harm it causes—can be far more expensive.
Collateral effects matter too. Blocking addresses used by shared cloud services can interrupt unrelated websites and legitimate services. Russia’s attempt to block Telegram in 2018, for example, affected large numbers of cloud-hosting addresses and disrupted other services. Resolving overblocking imposes technical costs as well as losses on those affected.
China illustrates the scale a comprehensive system can reach. Its Great Firewall is part of a wider structure of information control. Historical estimates cited in reporting on the system put early construction costs above US$100 million, including roughly US$60 million for filtering components, while broader domestic-surveillance projects were estimated in the billions. These estimates cover different projects and periods; they are not a single audited annual budget and cannot be used to calculate Egypt’s costs.
Hardware and software require continuing upgrades as internet technology changes. Human monitoring adds another expense, although historical estimates of the number of people involved in China encompass wider content-monitoring activity and should not be treated as a dedicated website-blocking workforce.
Russia provides a more recent comparison. Following its 2019 “sovereign internet” legislation, authorities expanded the use of TSPU traffic-control equipment across providers’ networks. A September 2024 Reuters report described a government plan to allocate around 60 billion roubles—then about US$660 million—between 2025 and 2030 to upgrading the censorship system.
Reuters compared that multi-year allocation with regulator Roskomnadzor’s approximately 32.15 billion-rouble budget for 2023. The comparison indicates the scale of planned investment, not expenditure already completed. Providers also face installation and operating demands as the state develops the system and enforces compliance.
What can be established about Egypt’s expenditure?
Zawia3 asked five specialists and two official sources about the cost of blocking websites. None provided a specific total. The reporting therefore examines the technology and historical estimates rather than presenting an unverified figure as Egypt’s current censorship budget.
In 2012 reporting, telecommunications specialists estimated that an initial system for blocking pornography could cost EGP 70–100 million. This was an estimate for a proposed capability at that time, not proof of a completed expenditure and not a measure of today’s wider restrictions.
Technical investigations offer firmer evidence about some of the equipment used. Al-Manassa and its hosting partner Qurium reported in 2020 that tests identified Sandvine equipment in blocking on Telecom Egypt and Orange networks. Their investigation described interference with connections and the blocking of alternative domains.
SMEX has also examined the use of DPI for censorship in Egypt. Such evidence establishes capabilities and observed behaviour, but does not reveal the purchase price of every contract or a complete allocation of responsibility.
In 2024, Sandvine announced that it was ending its work with Egypt amid controversy over human-rights abuses associated with its technology, as Al-Manassa reported. An announced withdrawal does not by itself establish that all previously installed equipment was immediately removed or ceased operating.
Beyond procurement, systems require maintenance, updated filtering rules and technical personnel. Filtering can also affect network performance, depending on implementation and capacity. Historical warnings about service quality point to another potential expense: upgrading infrastructure to preserve usable connections while continuing to filter traffic.
Costs borne by internet-service providers
Providers must implement restrictions on their networks and face legal consequences for failing to comply with applicable orders. That can entail equipment, software, integration and continuing operational work.
An April 2013 report in Al-Shorouk quoted Abdel Rahman El-Sawy, an industry-committee official at the telecom regulator, estimating that internet companies had spent EGP 25 million—around US$3.67 million at the time—on filtering mechanisms associated with a court order to block pornography.
The same report quoted regulator official Sherif Hashem saying that filtering equipment had been installed from January 2013. The sum is a historical sector estimate, not a current annual cost and not a price per blocked website.
Filtering does not guarantee that content becomes inaccessible to every user. VPNs, proxies and alternative domains can allow some readers to reconnect, prompting further restrictions. Researchers documented 261 VPN and proxy-service websites being blocked in August 2017, illustrating how censorship expanded to target circumvention itself.
The result is an ongoing technical contest: new access routes are developed, then identified and blocked. Providers may also have to address service degradation and unintended disruption, while remaining exposed to regulatory and legal penalties.
The bill reaches newsrooms and journalists
The cost to the authorities and providers is only one side of the story. For a news outlet, losing access to its domestic audience can undermine advertising, subscriptions and other revenue. Organisations may reduce activity, cut salaries or close altogether.
A 2020 study by the Association for Freedom of Thought and Expression (AFTE) quoted journalist Khaled El-Balshy estimating that around 300 young journalists were laid off or had their salaries cut during the expansion of blocking in May–June 2017.
The study documented closures and attempts to survive through mirror domains, proxy links and social-media distribution. Al-Bidaya and Al-Badil were among the independent outlets that stopped operating after being blocked. Such cases show how a restriction on readership can become a loss of livelihoods.
The effects extend beyond the targeted newsroom. When independent employers disappear, journalists face fewer opportunities and greater competition for the jobs that remain. Blocking interacts with security pressure, financial difficulties and the concentration of media ownership; it is not the sole explanation for every employment problem.
Figures reported in early 2023 showed roughly 536 syndicate members declaring that they were not employed, with unemployment assistance paid to 165 at that point. These figures indicate hardship but are neither a complete unemployment census nor a count of jobs lost solely because of blocking.
A survey associated with the syndicate’s sixth conference in December 2024 also pointed to serious insecurity. In reporting published in March 2025, journalist Eman Auf cited findings that about 13% received no salary and 13–17% received irregular pay. She also described problems affecting more than 49% concerning the EGP 6,000 minimum-wage benchmark then used or the absence of financial rules protecting employment rights.
Those survey findings should not be combined into a definitive national estimate without knowing the sample and whether categories overlap. They nonetheless help explain why the state-funded training and technology allowance—reported at EGP 3,900 a month in March 2025—has become essential to many journalists’ daily living expenses.
Some journalists have moved into freelance work for foreign outlets or social-media platforms. Others have left the profession or emigrated. Newsrooms that survive may spend resources on new domains and alternative distribution without fully recovering their previous audience or income.
For journalist and union activist Eman Auf, press freedom and a decent livelihood are inseparable: obstructing a newsroom’s access to readers also undermines its ability to pay its staff.
Auf tells Zawia3 that fewer visits and less engagement damage advertising income. As revenue falls, salaries come under pressure and layoffs become more likely. Allowing independent outlets to operate without blocking, she argues, is a condition for a minimum level of economic security in the profession.
Who orders a website to be blocked?
When the wave began in May 2017, publishers often received no public decision identifying the authority responsible. At least 20 sites were initially affected, most of them news organisations. That opacity generated questions about the role of security agencies outside publicly identified procedures.
Subsequent legislation set out powers for several bodies. It is important to distinguish the legal framework from proof that its procedures were followed in a particular case.
Under Article 7 of Law 175 of 2018, an investigating authority may order blocking where evidence meets the law’s conditions concerning an offence and a threat to national security or the country’s security or economy. The order must reach the competent court within 24 hours; the court has up to 72 hours to issue a reasoned decision.
For an urgent, imminent danger, the competent detection and enforcement authorities can notify the National Telecom Regulatory Authority (NTRA) to direct immediate temporary blocking. Their report must reach investigators within 48 hours, after which judicial-review procedures apply. The law also provides for challenges and for ending or modifying a block.
The Supreme Council for Media Regulation has separate powers under Law 180 of 2018. Article 6 addresses licensing and permits suspension or blocking of unlicensed sites. Article 19 extends specified content obligations to personal websites, blogs and accounts with 5,000 followers or more and allows action against violations.
The NTRA serves as an implementation link with service providers. Multiple judicial, regulatory and security actors therefore appear in the framework, but their respective statutory roles do not resolve the lack of disclosure surrounding many actual blocks.
Legal powers and constitutional protections
Legal expert Mohamed Sayed tells Zawia3 that several laws underpin restrictions, including the 2015 counterterrorism law, the 2018 cybercrime law and the 2018 press and media law. In his view, their broad use against independent journalism conflicts with constitutional protections and Egypt’s international commitments on freedom of expression.
The constitutional references matter. Article 57 concerns privacy and communications and prohibits arbitrary interruption of public communications. Article 68 concerns access to information. Articles 70 and 71 protect press freedom and prohibit censorship, confiscation, suspension or closure of Egyptian media, with a limited censorship exception in wartime or general mobilisation.
The constitutional text should not be read as assigning all these protections to Article 57 alone.
The 2003 Telecommunications Regulation Law predates the explicit website-blocking provisions and gives authorities powers relating to communications and emergencies. The emergency context after the April 2017 attacks formed part of the background to the first large wave of restrictions. The later cybercrime and media laws made specific blocking powers more explicit.
Law 175 of 2018 also penalises providers that refuse qualifying court orders. Its penalties attach to defined conduct; it does not establish a general fine simply for visiting a blocked website. The more severe provider penalties cited in the law apply where refusal results in a death or harm to national security, rather than automatically to every instance of non-compliance.
Law 180 of 2018 gives the media regulator licensing and content-enforcement powers, alongside provisions for administrative-court challenges. The regulator’s six-month blocking decision against Mada Masr was issued on October 29, 2023, not in November 2019. The site had already been subject to blocking since 2017.
Executive regulations, including Prime Ministerial Decree 1699 of 2020 implementing the cybercrime law, and the media regulator’s sanctions framework add procedural detail. The existence of these rules does not answer whether an individual restriction is necessary, proportionate, transparent or constitutionally justified.
Sayed points to Zawia3’s blocking in February 2025 and again in March as part of the wider pattern criticised by rights organisations.
A restriction on the public’s right to know
Auf regards the blocking of independent news sites as an attack on both citizens’ access to information and journalists’ right to work. She describes the affected independent platforms as outlets willing to scrutinise power and report on people’s political, economic and social concerns.
When journalists overcome other obstacles to reporting, she argues, blocking becomes a final barrier between their work and the public. She also cites arrests and wider pressure on journalists as evidence of a broader campaign against independent practice. Her reference to more than 25 recent arrests is an interview claim, not a separately verified detention count produced by this report.
An NTRA source who requested anonymity gives a different explanation. He tells Zawia3 that some access problems could be technical and denies other reasons for restricting sites that do not support extremism. He distinguishes these from earlier restrictions on sites he says directly promoted terrorism.
The source points out that many countries restrict access to online content. He lists terrorism, pornography, facilitation of irregular migration and financial crimes such as extortion or money laundering among the reasons governments invoke. He does not provide a site-specific decision or technical evidence explaining the restrictions on the independent outlets discussed here.
From 2017 to the time of this report, blocking has weakened the economic foundations of independent journalism alongside other pressures on the profession. Lost readership can become lost income, jobs and institutions. Those who remain face a narrower field of employers and persistent financial insecurity.
The full public cost remains undisclosed. The consequences for readers and journalists are more visible. Restoring access to independent reporting is therefore not only a question of civil liberties: it is also central to the profession’s capacity to sustain itself and serve the public.
