Resurrecting Pharaohs: Western Imaginations and Contemporary Racial-National Identity in Egyptian Tourism

Abstract

This paper explores racialization as a historical-sociological concept and an ongoing, contemporary material praxis, using a Global Critical Race and Racism (GCRR) framework. Racialization is an ideological and material practice of colonial conquest that requires constant reification and maintenance. This paper examines how racialization and racial practices are positioned within Egyptian state tourism campaigns, through a media content and discourse analysis, as a function of contemporary national-racial identity formation. Histories of colonial archaeology, race science, and the European colonial domination and imagination of Egypt heavily contextualize this analysis. First, the paper outlines how the identity of ancient Egyptians was a racing project fundamental to white supremacy and global race and racism in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries in ways that are intricately tied to contemporary nationalism, national identity formation, and nation-building in modern Egypt. The focus of this paper is Egypt’s agency in its national identity formation practices, wherein it acknowledges, negotiates, and markets aspects of its racialization that are economically and geopolitically advantageous, specifically within the tourism industry and in relation to Pharaonic Egypt. In this way, Egypt’s racialization is not simply externally imposed; the Egyptian state is engaging with global structures of race and racism by maintaining racial mythologies for Western imaginaries. Egypt’s contemporary national identity formation includes an engagement with its past that negotiates its position within a global hierarchy of nations across the racial-modern world system. This study explores notions of autonomy, acquiescence, and resistance under racialization by examining how nation-states engage with, resist, or leverage racialization.

1. Introduction

Racial mythmaking, particularly concerning ancient civilizations, has been a central tool in modern nation-building and navigating global racial hierarchies. The debate over the racial identity of the ancient Egyptians stands as one of the most consequential and enduring projects of this kind, whose implications have reverberated from the development of race science itself to the political contours of the United States Civil War (Bernasconi 2025; Crawford 2021). Nations often draw on ancient history to forge a collective identity and project a national narrative (Mitchell 2001; Silberman 1995; Wood 1998), but this process is deeply entwined with racial ideologies. As burgeoning nation-states engaged in atavistic projects, they were forced to position themselves within racialized global orders emerging from colonial hegemony (Fowler 1987; Mitchell 2001), often by constructing pre-national mythologies rooted in race. The Egyptian case is paradigmatic. Far from a disinterested historical inquiry, the question “who were the ancient Egyptians?” has consistently been approached through a lens of presentism (Crawford 2021), pseudoscience, and overt racial and political bias (Bernasconi 2025; Wood 1998). This has ensured that the debate periodically spills beyond academic and political confines into popular culture (Crawford 2021; Sherwood 2023), keeping it a hotly contested subject. The stakes are so high precisely because the object of inquiry, Aristotle’s ‘original land of wisdom,’ with its mystical pyramids and mummies (Reid 2002, p. 2), has always been more a subject of imagination than of history (Donato 2024), making it a potent and malleable symbol in the long-running project of racial mythmaking.

To whom ancient Egypt belongs is tied to the question of who modern Egyptians are. Modern Egyptian nationalist thought has always been tied to a racial interpretation of ancient Egypt because racial ideology is an inextricable part of Egyptology’s knowledge production (Wood 1998). The rhetoric and ideology behind the study of ancient Egypt in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries was that of race science and white supremacy (Bernasconi 2025; Crawford 2021). This paper examines racial practices within Egyptian tourism as a function of contemporary national-racial identity formation. I am less concerned with what race ancient Egyptians were or to whom they belong today and more concerned with how the modern nation of Egypt practices autonomy, acquiescence, and resistance under national racialization. “[T]he past is a useful tool (if not a weapon) for any new state or regime as it tries to transform the present” (Wood 1998, p. 193). Internal struggles among Egyptian national political, religious, and sectarian factions have each, at different times, embraced, rejected, or used the ancient Egyptian identity and its symbols (Crawford 2021; Ibraheem 2023; Wood 1998). In this paper, I ask (1) how Egypt engages with ancient Egyptian mythologies in its national-racial identity formation; (2) how Egypt’s national identity project leverages, resists, or reframes Western racial mythologies; (3) how tourism functions as a site for (re)negotiating Egyptian whiteness, Arabness, and Africanness; and (4) how these tensions are materially reflected in media/tourism marketing and state action?

In the coming pages, I explore the historical treatment of Egypt’s pharaonic past by colonial Europe. I provide an overview of European/colonial imaginations of ancient Egypt and racial attitudes towards modern Egyptians. I show how colonial archaeology scaffolded global racial hierarchies and furthered European (white) supremacist ideology by (1) excluding Egyptians from studying their own past and (2) severing the connection between Ancient and modern Egyptians. Next, I summarize Egyptian political movements and ideologies of resistance, nation-building, and revolution that have shaped Egyptian nationalist discourse and identity. I discuss racial tensions in Egypt’s various nationalisms as it contends with European, Pharaonic, Islamic, Arab, and African identities. Citing contemporary events and controversies, this section explicitly reveals racial anxieties and state projects and ends with a short introduction and analysis of neo-Pharaonism—an exclusionary form of nationalism that privileges Pharaonic identity and marginalizes African, Nubian, and other minority identities within Egypt. Finally, I provide thematic analyses of various tourism-related content that suggest the Egyptian state (re)produces racial mythologies rooted in these historical events. I discuss the role of these racial practices in Egypt’s national racial-identity formation, arguing that this process is an example of a nation-state navigating global structures of race and racism by maintaining racial mythologies for Western imaginaries. In other words, Egypt’s contemporary national identity formation involves managing its past to negotiate its position within a global hierarchy of nations in the racial-modern world system.

1.1. Theoretical Background

In 1997, Eduardo Bonilla-Silva (1997, 2001) introduced a materialist framework of racial analysis rooted in the belief that racialized social systems, rather than individuals with prejudicial attitudes, are at the core of racism. These systems reward and punish different categories of races in substantially different ways. Actors in “superordinate positions” maintain structures that reproduce systemic advantages through a set of social practices that Bonilla-Silva (2001, p. 22) calls “racial praxis”. In other words, the foundation of racism is made up of “the social edifice erected over racial inequality” rather than racial ideas or attitudes individuals may have about others (Bonilla-Silva 2001, p. 22).

Three decades later, his “racialized social systems” framework has been broadly accepted. However, some have pushed back against Bonilla-Silva’s framework and a racial approach to the study of difference altogether; calling instead for a post-modernist analytic framework of identity through an ethnicity/nation paradigm focused on the construction, maintenance, and decline of boundaries–defining race as a category of practice rather than a “category of analysis” (Brubaker et al. 2008). This perspective, while addressing important amorphisms to categorical constructions, does not fully reflect historically and culturally grounded realities around racial domination. The racialized character of colonialism and imperialism is underemphasized while individual agency over structure is overemphasized. “What is one of the most important forms of social explanation and power in the modern period, white supremacy” (Thompson 1984, p. 25), is underplayed.

However, other scholars like Christian (2019) and Jung (2015), have adopted and further developed Bonilla-Silva’s “racialized social systems” framework. They have expanded upon his work to include a global analysis of race within a world-systems perspective (Grosfoguel 2002, 2011; Grosfoguel and Cervantes-Rodríguez 2002; Munck et al. 1993; Quijano 1993, 2000). One such contribution is that of Michelle Christian, who provides a Global Critical Race and Racism (GCRR) framework “locate[ing] racism as a world-systemic phenomenon shaping and linking geographies across the globe through a prism of white supremacy” (Christian 2019, p. 171; 2025). Christian centers global South perspectives in which colonialism and slavery serve as focal points in her application of Bonilla-Silva’s racialized social systems (Banerjee-Dube 2014; Bhambra 2013; Mama 1995). This focus provides a historically and culturally informed framework situated within larger global racial forces. Christian’s GCRR framework accepts (1) Barnor Hesse’s (2007) racial modernity; which argues that global racial capitalism, racial production and reproduction of the modern nation, and racial knowledge are globally proliferated, and (2) the idea that racism is a global project of white supremacy despite being historically rooted and embedded in geographically bound conceptions of difference (Weiner 2012). Therefore, racism is an institutional global hierarchy produced and reproduced internationally, politically, culturally, and economically (Bonilla-Silva 1997; Christian 2019, 2025; Grosfoguel 2011).

While the GCRR framework is well suited for analyzing the racial politics of Egyptian tourism, it is important to acknowledge concerns that racism may not always be the sole or dominant factor shaping tourism-related decision-making. For instance, tourism marketing in Egypt is influenced by intersecting forces such as class, nationalism, religious identity, and global market dynamics, which often interact with racial logics but do not always reduce to them alone (Hall and Tucker 2004; Pritchard and Morgan 2000). By situating the GCRR approach alongside critiques that advocate for multi-dimensional analysis–incorporating economic interests and geopolitical pressures–this study seeks to avoid making claims of racism as the universal and singular explanatory cause. Instead, I recognize tourism as a space shaped by race alongside other complex social and historical processes. Far from overemphasizes the role of race. It allows for an analysis of other axes shaping attractions which may, in some cases, displace racism as the primary explanatory factor. This is what makes GCRR indispensable for tracing global racial hierarchies in tourism.

Nations and regions are constantly racialized in ways that incorporate local and Indigenous cultural values and notions of difference (Christian 2025; Patil and Purkayastha 2018). They themselves create and recreate racialized social systems–both as national and international racial projects–through “internal structural and ideological racial practices” (Christian 2019, p. 170) that contend with their placement in a global relational field (Mullings 2005; Omi and Winant 1994). In the Egyptian context, “whiteness” is not a fixed biological category but a fluid, claimed social status deeply intertwined with class, lineage (especially claims to non-African or “Mediterranean” ancestry), and cultural proximity to Eurocentric ideals. Drawing on a GCRR framework, this paper examines Egypt’s racialization, autonomy, and position within a global racial hierarchy. It is thus both a racial idea, predicated on distancing from a stigmatized blackness, and a cultural one, signifying modernity and international capital. Focusing on the tourism industry as simultaneously a potential global conduit of whiteness and a site where nations engage, resist, or leverage their racialization, this study looks at how Egypt manages its national identity and image-making in potentially racial terms. Ultimately, this negotiation becomes a strategic performance for the global market, in which Egypt leverages its ancient “civilizational” legacy, often racialized as non-black, to attract capital while navigating its geographic and cultural identity in Africa and the Arab world.

1.2. Methods

This paper examines Egypt’s tourism industry for racial practices that can be attributed to national identity formation—specifically, mechanisms of racial reproduction within projects of nation-state identity formation that cater to white imaginaries. I applied a multimodal, cross-source methodology, including critical discourse and content analyses, to a comparative study of the language, imagery, and narratives on official Egyptian Tourism Authority (ETA) online platforms (YouTube, Instagram, government websites) between 2015 and 2025. The majority of videos examined are sourced from the “Experience Egypt” YouTube channel. The “Experience Egypt” campaign is a long-running umbrella branding initiative by the ETA that has been active for several years and includes various sub-campaigns. Critical discourse and content analyses reveal how discourses about race are constructed and perpetuated in tourism materials. Content analysis included systematically coding visuals, themes, and textual references in English- and Arabic-language tourism marketing. Additionally, quantitative metrics (e.g., frequency of references to history, luxury, safety, and security) have been compiled to support these qualitative insights.

This paper presents tourism as a conduit for colonial domination and violence. Commonly studied in terms of environmental and economic impacts, some have approached it as one of the many new forms colonialism has taken as its overt rule went out of fashion in the mid-20th century (Ballengee-Morris 2002; Hall and Tucker 2004; Higgins-Desbiolles 2023; Linehan et al. 2020; Smith 2012). As national independence spread, former colonies became a focus of development by both world powers—usually their former colonizers—and global organizations like the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and the World Bank, both controlled by the same former colonizing nations. As a result, Western colonial interference, exploitation, and control over newly independent nation-states simply evolved into a new and more acceptable modern form. Nation-states, despite their release from formal colonial rule, are still beholden to global economic pressures (Novelli et al. 2020). Colonialism evolved into its current covert form by changing its governance tactics. Former colonies, now nation-states, are pressured to kowtow to racial capitalism for survival along the parameters of their (for the most part) unchanged colonial-era racialization. “[D]evelopments in Egyptian archeology and museology were part of a global process in which states and peoples, over the course of the nineteenth century, struggled to define themselves as modern nations” (Reid 2002, p. 9). However, for as long as racial capitalism proliferates throughout the globe, nation-states–particularly nations recovering from centuries of colonial domination–remain subject to its pressures.

Despite the allure of international investment, infrastructure development, and infusions of international currency into the local market, the impacts of tourism are often environmental decay, pronounced segregation, low-paying jobs, and the majority of profits being funneled out to foreign wealthy investors and global corporations (Hall and Tucker 2004; Higgins-Desbiolles 2023). Beyond environmental degradation, labor exploitation, and the extraction of profits, a nation’s identity is also compromised. The tourism industry offers opportunities for global imagination and impression management (MacCannell 1973; Merrill 2009; Pritchard and Morgan 2000, 2001; Rivera 2008). Nations are economically pressured to engage in mythmaking that aligns with Western sensibilities and imaginaries. Egypt, perhaps more than any other country, exists in the West’s imagination as a mysterious portal to the ancient past. From a playground for colonial looters to an open-air museum, perceptions of Egypt have been as a static, ancient relic rather than a modern, dynamic country. This notion is fueled by a tourist-centric focus on Egypt’s historical sites and artifacts. This view can overshadow the contemporary realities of Egyptian life and culture, presenting the country as primarily a place of the past for the Disney-ified entertainment of visitors. Sharon Zukin (2002) coined the term Disneyfication to explain the influence of the Disney theme park on the development of US suburbs. It was expanded on by Ritzer (2008) to analyze how nations and multi-national corporations extend their global influence and maximize their profit-making capacities through a process of cultural and economic imperialism with mass consumption at its core. These external pressures then inform not only how Egypt is imagined, but also how it manifests in real life. “[I]n the rush for the tourist dollar a nation will become a “parody of itself” as “[n]egative elements of the past, inequality, brutality, injustice and evil, will be largely ignored in the presentation of monuments and in the design of museums, as these elements do not attract revenue” (Silberman 1995; Wood 1998, p. 195). In this way, the tourist and their dollar become the indirect shapers of a nation’s identity and its material development.

Tourism marketing campaigns, websites, and media play a pivotal role in the tourism industry by managing global imaginations and impressions of Egypt (MacCannell 1973; Merrill 2009; Pritchard and Morgan 2001; Rivera 2008). It is only when nations present themselves within the confines of white supremacist imaginaries that they are palatable for Western tourist consumption. Representations of Egypt as (1) exotic (mystical, magical, or mysterious) (2) provincial (wild, untamed or simple) (3) historical (ancient, a place of wisdom, knowledge, and advanced achievement), (4) modern (luxury, leisure), (5) safe (security, familiar, Mediterranean), or a combination of the five are racial projects because they contend with Egypt’s placement in a global relational field along white supremacist logics; in turn reproducing white supremacy itself. Performing a national identity managed for Western consumption is a form of colonial subordination, and only under such subordination can these spaces then be consumed. Egypt’s appeal to Western tourists is arguably a matter of economic survival. Therefore, tourism can be understood as colonial violence itself.

Ultimately, this does not simply distort the complexities of an Egyptian national identity. It also perpetuates a colonial untruth of Egyptians as a static and backwards people in need of Western intervention. Today, social media amplifies the tourist gaze by enabling tourists to share curated, uncomplicated images that further entrench global perceptions (Urry and Larsen 2011). One way in which Egypt is exercising its agency is seen in its dual national identities, or a double consciousness (Du Bois 2003) of national identity: one shaped by internal cultural values and another performed for the benefit of Western tourists. This duality manifests through state policy and cultural production. In state-sanctioned promotional videos aimed at Western tourists, Egypt is portrayed seductively as a magical, mysterious provincial escape. In this way, global tourism industries, through their marketing and media strategies, reproduce and maintain as the normative standard while marginalizing and distorting the identities of Egyptians, ensuring that their cultures remain subordinate to the gaze and desires of Western powers.

2. Historical Background: Ancient, Colonial, and Modern Egypt

“All things dread time, but time dreads the Pyramids”.

Arab Proverb

Western desires to control Egypt went beyond nineteenth-century geopolitics, though that alone would have been enough. For Europe, Egypt is an intimate stranger, it has existed in European imaginations, in one form or another, for millennia (Setiyono 2023). Surviving writings by Greeks and Hellenized Egyptians, such as Aristotle, Herodotus, Eratosthenes, and Manetho, provide insight into ancient Egypt, or at least into ancient European interpretations of a doubly ancient Egypt (Donato 2024). Christianity’s eradication of paganism and its monuments in the 4th and 5th centuries broke a continuity of pagan knowledge and practice (Hanrahan 1962; Kristensen 2009; Murdock 2008). This resulted in a historical rupture with the old gods and the divine kings of ancient Egypt. When the old priesthoods died out, knowledge of hieroglyphics was lost. Despite the Christian destruction of temples, monuments, and histories dedicated to old pagan gods, Biblical accounts of Egypt preserved it just beneath the surface of European consciousness for the next few centuries. Ancient Egyptian themes and motifs morphed into Christian iconography. Images of Isis nursing Horus, the resurrection of Osiris, and the hieroglyphic ankh (the “key of life”), blurred into Mary and the infant Jesus, the resurrection of Christ, and the Christian cross, respectively (Murdock 2008). It was not until centuries later that Europeans found themselves directly in conversation with Egypt once again through Jerusalem-bound pilgrimage, crusade, and commerce (Krawiec 2019). The pyramids themselves were biblicized as the granaries of Joseph. During the Renaissance, humanists popularized travel as a form of education or self-improvement. Pilgrimages to Egypt were motivated by both religious and classical interests. Mysticism and occult wisdom continued to be associated with Egypt through Rosicrucians and Freemasons and remain central within New Age circles today. An approach to ancient Egypt through a biblical lens also remains prevalent in contemporary Western Christian and Jewish communities (Murdock 2008).

During the eighteenth century, British and French colonial rivalries fueled the science of Egyptology and the romantic imaginaries of Egyptomania. The discovery, and subsequent deciphering, of the Rosetta Stone was arguably the single most consequential event in the study of ancient Egypt and paved the way to modern Egyptology (Tejirian and Simon 2012). The stone was found by French soldiers digging fortifications, and intensified Anglo-French Egyptological rivalry and the Egyptomania that still endures today. So captivated by Egypt were Europeans that Benoît de Maillet claimed the Nile was as familiar to the French as the Seine.

In the eighteenth century, a new breed of traveller began to flock into Cairo, Europeans with scholarly and antiquarian interests, for whom Masr was merely the picturesque but largely incidental location of an older, and far more important landscape… Over the same period that Egypt was gaining a new strategic importance within the disposition of empires, she was also gradually evolving into a new continent of riches for the Western scholarly and artistic imagination.

(Ghosh 1993)

Importantly, Egypt’s Islamic monuments and culture were ignored and left out of the European imaginary of Egypt (Meskell 2000). In fact, a separation of ancient Egypt and its modern people in the imagination of Europeans, “juxstapos[ing] the common tropes of ancient splendor and present squalor, Oriental barbarism and European enlightenment” (Reid 2002, p. 33), is apparent throughout various historical European accounts. Édouard de Villiers du Terrage, an engineer in Napoleon’s expedition to Egypt, is quoted saying:

An Arab village, made up of miserable mud huts, dominates the most magnificent monument of Egyptian architecture and seems placed there to attest to the triumph of ignorance and barbarism over centuries of light which in Egypt raised the arts to the highest degree of splendour.

We were pleased to think that we were going to take back to our country the products of the ancient science and industry of the Egyptians; it was a veritable conquest we were going to attempt in the name of the arts.

(Reid 2002, p. 32)

The prevailing sentiment among Europeans was one of disdain for the Arab natives of modern Egypt for existing where ancient Egypt once stood. And ancient Egypt, which by virtue of its accomplishments belonged to the Europeans because science, art, and achievement themselves, wherever they sprouted, belonged to Europe (Bernasconi 2025). “[T]his country, which has transmitted its knowledge to so many nations, is today plunged into barbarism” (Said 1979, p. 80), “[h]ence the need for the French conquest, which would restore the benefits of civilization”(Reid 2002, p. 34). It is out of this ideology that Egyptomania, Egyptology, and archeology were born (Bernasconi 2025; Meskell 2000).

2.1. Colonial Archeology and the Racial-Political Process of Constructing the Past

“The making of heritage is a political process”

(Jacobs 2002, p. 35)

Ancient Egypt is a battleground for modernity, colonialism, and identity both within Egypt and internationally, illuminating the persistent tensions underlying the global fascination with Egypt’s antiquities and the politics of their representation (Colla 2007). Some Europeans sought a romanticized preindustrial world among the “noble savages” or “natural aristocratic” Bedouin tribes of Egypt. Others, “stepping ashore variously imagined themselves entering the world of the pharaohs, the Bible, the Greeks and Romans, and the Quran and the Arabian Nights” (Reid 2002, p. 2). For Egyptians, ancient Egypt meant different things at different times to different groups. Rifaa al-Tahtawi, Egyptian historian, government official, and educational reformer, authored the first Arabic-language book on ancient Egypt in 1868. He worked to foster interest in ancient Egypt among fellow Egyptians at a time when most Western collectors and authors were in conversation only with other Europeans (Choueiri 2016). Muhammad Ali, Ottoman Albanian viceroy and governor who became Egypt’s de facto ruler (1769–1849), saw ancient Egyptian antiquities as valuable diplomatic bargaining chips while actively fostering an Egyptian identity distinct from its ancient history. In the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, Egyptian political thinkers such as Mustafa Kamal and Ahmad Lutfi al-Sayyid incorporated pharaonic elements into their political writings, linking ancient and modern Egyptian identities. Egypt’s great nationalist leader, Sa’ad Zaghlul, was entombed in a neo-pharaonic mausoleum in 1927, whereas the founder of the Muslim Brotherhood, Hasan al-Banna, decried pharaonism as an ideology that separated Egyptian history from that of other Arabs and Muslims. Regardless of its interpretation or role in modern Egyptian society, an ancient Egyptian identity is inextricably intertwined with Egypt’s European colonial history, as Egyptology itself is a colonial product and concept. It was “born amid violence, imperialism, and Anglo-French rivalry” (Reid 2002, p. 31), flourished within colonial archaeological institutions that excluded Egyptians (Abd el-Gawad and Stevenson 2021; Meskell 2000), and became central to the defunct field of race science (Bernasconi 2025; Crawford 2021).

Excavation and Exclusion

Archaeology “has by its nature an unavoidable political dimension” that is inextricably intertwined with racial constructions and mythos (Silberman 1995, p. 249). Archaeology is the act of “awak[ing] the past” (MacKendrick and Howe 2012, p. 134). It is a scientific and political enterprise of “resurrection” (Smith 1986, pp. 191–208). Claims of nationhood are supported by, if not contingent on the production of a past; to prove a nation is modern, it helps if it can prove it is ancient (Mitchell 2001). Ancient monuments and artifacts are often conspicuously reflected in the present. History can be a powerful force in constructing and mobilizing political projects. Colonial archeology is characteristic of areas subjected to European domination, where the dominant class establishes exclusive archeological institutions. Throughout these projects, European colonists glorify their own histories while simultaneously denigrating modern indigenous people as primitive and incapable of material and intellectual advancement (Silberman 1995). This was certainly the case with European colonial archaeology in Egypt. In fact, British, American, German, Austrian, and Italian Egyptologists made up the majority of teams spearheading archaeological projects, as Egyptians were systematically excluded from studying their own history.

Additionally, the French controlled the Egyptian Antiquities Services, and a vast amount of artifacts were exported to Europe, where they remain. Furthermore, under British control, the Egyptian school system excluded ancient Egyptian history from its curricula, fearing that it would “stimulate local national pride and a desire for independence” (Díaz-Andreu 2007; Wood 1998, p. 181). The resulting lack of indigenous representation in Egyptology and the lack of indigenous expertise in preserving artifacts were used by Europeans to claim that modern Egyptians were inherently uninterested and incapable of preserving their own history (El Daly 2005; Meskell 2000). “Left to their own devices, Egyptians would neglect or even destroy the material remains of the Pharaonic past” (Wood 1998, p. 192). This was used to justify the export of vast amounts of Egyptian artifacts and antiquities to Europe. In this way, European colonial archaeology facilitated the looting of this antique land, and the ideological hijacking of Egypt’s history. Furthermore, arguments were made that if modern Egyptians were incapable and uninterested in Pharaonic history, perhaps Egypt’s history did truly belong to its champions and preservers in Europe.

Colonial archaeology in Egypt, or Egyptology, enabled Europe to reconstruct the ancient Egypt of the Pharaohs in its own image. Western archaeologists were not interested in the Pharaonic past as an element of the Egyptian past. “European heritage could not rival pharaonic time-depth and complexity, and thus it became necessary to appropriate and co-opt Egyptian heritage into a Western construction of origins” (Meskell 2000, p. 150). This racial reconstruction of the Egyptian past included severing any connections between modern Egyptians and ancient Egyptians. Ancient Egyptians were granted the status of “honorary Westerners” at the same time that modern Egyptians were portrayed as poor custodians of history (Wood 1998, p. 191). The term “Egyptology” itself is implicated in the Western manufactured supremacy of the pharaonic era. It is applied to the study of Pharaonic and Hellenistic Egyptian history, excluding Coptic and Islamic eras. If Egyptology were the study of Egypt, would it not include its non-ancient history? Resurrecting ancient Egyptians as distinct from modern Egyptians was a racializing project championed by colonial archaeology and its legacies of knowledge production. There was a prolific and passionate literature debating the race of ancient Egyptians (Browne 1799; Bruce 1805; Cohen 1974; Denon n.d.; Hume 1987; Nelson 2024; Volney 1798). These writings display the ideological frameworks that buttressed Egyptology, specifically, and Western worldviews in general.

With our present experience of the capacity of Negroes, and our knowledge of the state in which the whole race has remained for twenty centuries, can we deem it possible that they should have achieved such prodigies that Homer, Lycurgus, Solon, Pythagoras, and Plato, should have resorted to Egypt to study the sciences, religion, and laws, discovered and framed by men with black skin, woolly hair, and slanting forehead?

(Lawrence 1823, p. 340)

As academically dubious and defunct as the claims are, the knowledge production coming out of the study of Egypt at the time was paramount to colonial, imperial, and national projects in its support of Western (white) supremacy. The ancient Egyptian civilization was so substantial that its association with a non-Western culture undermined claims and justifications for Western domination worldwide. It would have challenged the racial hierarchy upon which these systems were built (Bernasconi 2025).

The conclusion to my mind is irresistible, that the civilization of Egypt is attributable to these Caucasian heads; because civilization does not now and never has as far as we know from history, been carried to this perfection by any other race than the Caucasian—how can any reasoning mind come to any other conclusion?

(Nott 1844, p. 16)

Therefore, unearthing ancient Egyptian ruins was not so much a resurrection of Pharaohs as it was an absorption of Egyptian history into Western (white) supremacist mythology. Today, these mythologies persist in nation-state identities and the global racial hierarchy they must contend with.

2.2. The Modern Egyptian Nation-State

Modern Egypt is a complex nation with a population of over 116 million and an additional 14 million living abroad (World Bank Open Data n.d.). Among them are Muslims (Sunnis, Shia, Sufis), Christians (Copts, Catholics, Greek Orthodox, Anglicans, and Protestants), Baha’is, Jews, and a few other minority religions. Egypt’s history, as discussed above, is unfathomably ancient. Egypt has been occupied and occupier; colonized and colonizer. The Greeks, Persians, Romans, Ayyubids, Mamluks, and Ottomans have ruled Ancient Egypt, which at certain points stretched across the Levant and Upper Nubia. Modern Egypt was colonized by the French (1798–1801) and the British (1882–1956), and itself colonized Sudan (1820–1885, and then jointly with the British 1899–1956). Egypt has always been a fulcrum connecting European, Asian, Arabian, and African trade, knowledge, and culture. However, deciding on a common past is critical to the nation-making process (Mitchell 2001). Distilling this constellation of identities and histories into a coherent national identity, as all modern nation-states must, is an undoubtedly intricate process.

It is important, when discussing colonial and imperial rule, not to cast the occupied peoples as static subjects of domination. Modern Egyptians certainly did not think of themselves as such. They resisted French and British rule, organized, and formed political movements and nationalist ideologies that they felt best represented their interests and identities as shown in

Table 1. Nationalist movements and ideologies in Egypt.

Period	Nationalist Ideology	Notes/Key Leaders
Late 1800s–1920s	Territorial Nationalism. Pharaonism	Saad Zaghlul, Wafd Party
1930s–1950s	Arab Nationalism, Supra-Nationalism	Interwar and WWII era
1952–1970	Nasserism (Arab Socialism)	Gamal Abdel Nasser, Free Officers
1970s–1980s	Islamic-Influenced Nationalism	Anwar Sadat, national shift to Islamism
1980s–Present	Civic/Military Nationalism, Neo-Pharaonism	Mubarak, Sisi, resurgence of Nasserism imagery

. They struggled amongst themselves for representation and dogma in ways that are still part of our national discourse today. “Heritage is not in any simple sense the reproduction and imposition of dominant values. It is a dynamic process of creation in which a multiplicity of pasts jostle for the present purpose of being sanctified as heritage” (Jacobs 2002, p. 35). Egypt’s nationalist ideology has shifted in tandem with key political leaders and historical moments, from territorial and cultural nationalism to Arab nationalism and later toward Islamism and military-led civic nationalism. Each phase is associated with distinctive leaders and political imagery. The Orabi Revolution (1879–1882), led by Ahmed Orabi, was an early nationalist uprising against both the Khedive (viceroy) and increasing European (mainly British) influence in Egypt. In the late 19th century to the 1930s, what is referred to as Early Territorial/Egyptian Nationalism began to spread. Emerging at a time of foreign occupation, this ideology focused on Egypt’s distinct territorial identity and independence from Ottoman and British control. Leaders, like Saad Zaghlul, emphasized the unique ancient Egyptian (Pharaonic) heritage in opposition to foreign rule. Mass protests that started in 1919, led by Zaghlul and the Wafd against British rule, culminated in limited independence for Egypt in 1922.

Nationalist ideology following this (limited) victory was heavily Pharaonic (Setiyono 2023). Egyptian nationalists actively resisted foreign archaeologists by asserting their status as the true inheritors of Pharaonic heritage. This stance culminated in the development of “Pharaonism,” a modern nationalist ideology rooted in the ancient past (Colla 2007). Egyptomania in Europe was mirrored by Egyptian efforts to reclaim and reinterpret their ancient sites and objects for modern political, artistic, and social objectives. Pharaonism (1920s–1930s) promoted ancient Egypt as the central pillar of national identity and sought to distinguish Egyptians from Arabs and other groups. It presented modern Egypt as the culmination of its past, emphasizing an indigenous, continuous civilization. An ultranationalist party inspired by European fascism, The Young Egypt (Misr Al-Fatah) Movement, was founded in 1933 and remained active until the 1940s, giving way to the Free Officers Movement. In contrast with Pharaonism, the 1930s saw Egyptian nationalism begin to intertwine with the broader concept of Arab nationalism, emphasizing unity with other Arab peoples. This shift to Arab Nationalism/Supra-Nationalism was catalyzed after the 1936 Anglo-Egyptian Treaty and continued through WWII.

The Free Officers Movement was a group of nationalist military officers who led a coup in 1952 that overthrew King Farouk, abolished the monarchy, and established the Republic of Egypt. After the 1952 revolution, Gamal Abdel Nasser, who would become Egypt’s second president (1952–1970), established a new form of nationalism, combining Arab unity, socialism, and anti-imperialism, referred to as Nasserism/Arab Socialism. It was heavily influenced by Pan-Arabism, a nationalist ideology asserting that Arabs constitute a single nation and should be politically and culturally united. Nasserism/Arab Socialism rejected monarchist and colonial legacies; focused on social equity, state-led economic policies, and opposed Western and Israeli influence. Nasserism/Arab Socialism became the dominant ideology in the 1950s–1960s and inspired movements beyond Egypt’s borders. Under Nasser’s leadership, Egypt became the center of Arab nationalism. Pharaonism made a resurgence after the 1967 Arab military defeat in the Arab-Israeli war (the Six-Day War) (Selim 2019). The rise of Pharaonist art, poetry, and popular culture was significant for constructing a modern Egyptian national identity, often in contrast to colonial narratives and, later, in tension with Islamist ideologies (Colla 2007).

Islamist Nationalism (Including the Muslim Brotherhood) emerged right at the tail end of the Pan-Arabist movement in the 1970s and 1980s. Under Anwar Sadat (1970–1981), the emphasis shifted towards Islam as a central component of Egyptian identity. Constitutional amendments in 1971 and 1980 elevated Sharia as a major legal source, and Egypt moved away from staunch Arab socialism. During Hosni Mubarak’s (1981–2011) presidency, nationalism retained civic and territorial components, but there was renewed emphasis on “Egypt First” as distinct from pan-Arab or Pan-Islamic unity. However, political Islamic groups maintained considerable influence over national identity discourses and were particularly visible during the 2011 Arab Spring and subsequent protests. Still, the Arab Spring cannot be attributed to Islamist Nationalism. It was a popular uprising marked by civil resistance, youth activism, and calls for democratic reform. In fact, only two years later, massive protests erupted against President Mohamed Morsi and the Muslim Brotherhood, culminating in a military intervention and another major shift in Egypt’s political landscape. Under Morsi’s successor, Egypt’s current president, Abdel Fattah El-Sisi, Nasserist imagery and rhetoric reemerged, with strong state/military leadership, but without socialist economics. History and its symbols were a constant and powerful presence throughout the processes of shaping national identity and remain just as relevant. Each of these movements reflected distinct phases in Egypt’s ongoing search for independence, self-determination, and national identity in the modern period. The imagined Pharaonic Egypt is an inherently racial myth; Egypt’s national identity constructions, whether they involve rejecting a Pharaonic link for Arab/Islamic heritage, or embracing it into territorial or exclusionary projects, are therefore always in conversation with this racialization. In other words, Egypt’s management of its racial-national identity is indicative of the ambiguity of race and whiteness. In leveraging its limited state agency to negotiate racial perceptions, Egypt is demonstrating a key component of global race and racism: its malleability.

2.2.1. Boundaries of (African) Belonging in Egyptian National Projects

The expressive and political culture around ancient Egypt became a site of contestation, reflecting broader debates over heritage, authenticity, and the legacy of colonial racial science. There is a glaring absence in the chronology of modern Egyptian political ideologies and national identity projects listed above. Despite Egypt’s productive identity discourses, an African national identity is never meaningfully embraced. Egypt was only ever African in the sense that it found itself on the African continent. During the height of Nasserism/Arab Socialism, Gamal Abdel Nasser often spoke about Egypt in relation to Africa. However, Nasser’s speeches frequently emphasized economic unity and Egypt’s responsibility for advancing the shared prosperity and development of Africa through cooperation and integration—not in terms of a shared identity. He spoke of Egypt’s duty, solidarity, and responsibility within Africa and the broader process of anti-colonial liberation. The Afro-Arab solidarity Nasser promoted was sometimes within a racialized hierarchy, with Egypt positioned as the civilizing or leading force and Sudan/African relations characterized by paternal oversight (El Zein 2023). Solidarity is strategic and does not necessarily denote kinship. Practices of statehood in Egypt have been historically shaped by racial hierarchies and structures of “whiteness,” with the Egyptian national identity constructed as modern, advanced, rational, and superior. This is contrasted against neighboring African identities, which are framed as backward, uncivilized, and inferior (Mohamed 2020).

It seems that Egypt’s Arabness wards off its Africanness just as its Pharaohness linked it to Europeanness. The “nation has a choice of what interpretations of its past it wishes to emphasize and what views of its history it wishes to ignore” (Wood 1998, p. 193). Egypt appears to emphasize every aspect of its past except the African one. The Egyptian state and nationalist intellectuals have internalized and reproduced colonial racial categories—borrowing from Western colonial literature—to justify expansionist ambitions in Sudan, support anti-colonial struggles, and authenticate claims to independence. Territorial nationalism asserted Egyptian superiority and cast the Sudanese and Nubians as subservient “Others” in need of Egyptian guidance (Mitchell 2003; Mohamed 2020; Troutt Powell 2019). Perhaps nothing encapsulates the material consequences of this ideological distancing more than that of the Nubians in Egypt. Nasser’s rhetoric of Egyptian nationalism and modernization directly contributed to the marginalization and displacement of Egypt’s Nubian population, especially during the construction of the Aswan High Dam in the 1960s (Carruthers 2022). The Aswan High Dam is a massive embankment dam built across the Nile River in southern Egypt, near Aswan, and completed in 1970. Its primary purposes are water storage, hydroelectric power, and economic development (including agricultural and industrial growth). While Nasser spoke of development, unity, and progress, these state-led projects had severe consequences for Nubian people, culture, and land rights. The Aswan High Dam was central to Egypt’s modernization, but it has also had profound social, environmental, and cultural consequences, especially for Nubian communities. Nasser was willing to submerge Nubian historical sites in addition to displacing approximately 100,000 to 120,000 Nubians. About 50,000 were relocated within Egypt, and another 50,000–70,000 Nubians were relocated within Sudan. These communities were forced from their ancestral villages, many of which were permanently submerged, resulting in significant loss of heritage, livelihoods, and cultural continuity (Abubakr 2021; Gilmore 2016). UNESCO launched a campaign to save the historical Nubian sites but ignored the Nubian people’s plight. UNESCO’s International Campaign to Save the Monuments of Nubia (1960–1980) was a significant project launched to rescue ancient monuments in Nubia before the Aswan High Dam flooded them. The campaign built on and transformed colonial-era practices, effectively severing ancient Nubia from its living Nubian population. Archaeological attention focused on ruins while ignoring the displacement and suffering of modern Nubians, first caused by earlier British irrigation projects and then by the High Dam (Carruthers 2022). In this way, Nasser sacrificed Nubian historical sites, further obscuring Nubian achievements and contributions to Egypt’s ancient and modern history. He also displaced and further marginalized the Nubian people from their history and their Egyptian national identity. Furthermore, their resettlement severed the geographical connection between Egyptian and Sudanese Nubians (Carruthers 2022).

More recently, a debate about an African Egypt erupted across Egypt and beyond. Netflix’s docuseries “Queen Cleopatra” became highly controversial after casting black actress Adele James in the role of Cleopatra VII. This move sparked outrage, particularly in Egypt, where many felt it distorted Egyptian history and identity. The backlash included official statements from Egyptian authorities, complaints filed alleging violation of media laws, and accusations that the series promoted “Afrocentric thinking” at the expense of historic accuracy (Gritten 2023). Critics pointed out that Cleopatra historically belonged to the Greek-descended Ptolemaic dynasty and was likely light-skinned, while Netflix defended its casting as an exploration of debated historical theories and representation (Gubash and Smith 2023; Sherwood 2023). Interestingly, just three years earlier, there was a similar controversy when Gal Gadot, an Israeli actress, was cast as Cleopatra in a film she was co-producing. However, the backlash was significantly less pronounced and sustained. It generated national discussions around whitewashing and reignited debates about Hollywood’s casting practices, particularly regarding historical figures from the region (Gritten 2023). However, the backlash in Egypt against casting a black actress in the Netflix docudrama “Queen Cleopatra” was significantly larger and more intense than the earlier controversy over Gal Gadot’s casting as Cleopatra. The Netflix casting led to formal legal complaints, widespread condemnation from government officials and Egyptologists, public demands to ban Netflix, and official plans by Egyptian state media to counterprogram with an alternative historical narrative. Cleopatra’s actual skin color matters less, within the context of this paper, than the scale of the Egyptian state’s reaction to her depiction as black. Egyptian officials and prominent archaeologists publicly accused Netflix of attempting to “erase Egyptian identity” and misrepresent Egyptian history by portraying Cleopatra as black. A top lawyer filed a complaint with Egypt’s public prosecutor, demanding Netflix be banned in Egypt for violating media laws and promoting “Afrocentric thinking.” The controversy sparked heated debates in mainstream and social media, while the government broadcaster announced a rival documentary to challenge the Netflix version. Egyptian state and press comments labeled the casting a “blatant historical fallacy,” arguing Cleopatra was of Greek-Macedonian descent (Saad 2023).

In contrast, Egyptian commentators and users expressed disapproval of Gal Gadot’s casting. Still, the reaction remained primarily in cultural and social media spheres, without the broader mobilization seen against Netflix or accusations of violating national law or identity (Gritten 2023). In the same year, Egypt’s Ministry of Tourism and Antiquities banned a Dutch archaeological group from continuing their work in Egypt in response to an exhibit titled “Kemet” in the National Museum of Antiquities in Leiden due to its alleged Afro-centric framing of ancient Egypt (Egypt Bans Dutch Archaeologists over Exhibition Linking Beyonce and Rihanna to Queen Nefertiti 2023). Kemet is an ancient name for Egypt, meaning “the black Land”. In modern contexts, the term is often used to place ancient Egypt within a broader African cultural context or to refer to the revival of ancient Egyptian religion (Kemetism). These controversies reveal a thread of racial tensions in Egypt’s identity that can be traced back to colonial racial science and archaeology. Is this state and public panic over Afrocentrism because the modern Egyptian identity is invested in constructing itself in a way that explicitly distances it from Africanness, and depicting ancient Egyptians as black Africans jeopardizes the Pharaonic mythology born out of colonial archeology?

2.2.2. Neo-Pharaonism and the Spectacle of Crafting a Racial State

Egyptian national identity has historically shifted between territorial nationalism (emphasizing distinct Egyptian/Pharaonic identity), Islamic nationalism, and Arab nationalism. These shifts affected the way Egyptian ‘racialized self-identity’ was constructed and the criteria for inclusion/exclusion within society, based on proximity to language, culture, race, and religion (Mohamed 2020). There is in today’s Egypt an emergence of a neo-Pharaonism that is a distinctly racial form of nationalism. Over the last few years, the Egyptian state has been actively forging a racialized national identity (neo-Pharaonism) and excluding/devaluing African and black identities (Egypt’s Racial Nationalism: Neo-Pharaonism as a Tool of the State 2023). Modern Egyptian attitudes toward Pharaonism have always been conflicted due to accusations of paganism and its use as national propaganda. The current wave, however, is distinctive: it openly relies on racial purity and positions sub-Saharan Africans, Afrocentrists, and Sudanese residents in Egypt as “Others” (Ibraheem 2023). Hend Mohamed’s (Mohamed 2020) analysis of the exclusion of Sudanese, Ethiopian, and Syrian refugees in Egypt suggests that Egyptian state practices are entrenched in racial hierarchies and ‘structures of whiteness.’ It examines how the Egyptian state constructs distinctive nationalist/racial identities, downplaying Arab and African elements, and reproducing practices that exclude and marginalize black and African-descended groups. The Egyptian government’s recent emphasis on pharaonic legacy reveals a “deliberate promotion of a nationalist discourse” that pushes Pharaonic identity politics (Egypt’s Racial Nationalism: Neo-Pharaonism as a Tool of the State 2023). Dalia Ibraheem (2023) argues that the state leverages neo-Pharaonism as a source of legitimacy, especially during political and economic crises, to counter Islamist discourse and respond to shifting regional economic and cultural dominance. Elliot Colla (2007) cautions that there are quasi-fascist dimensions within neo-Pharaonism. He points out that the last time similar discourse appeared was during the Young Egypt movement a century ago, which was closely associated with fascism. The Egyptian state’s self-understanding is rooted in a racialized, hierarchical framework—constructed historically and perpetuated in law and societal practice—which continues to marginalize, exclude, and differentiate according to proximity to the racialized Egyptian “self” (Mohamed 2020). Neo-Pharaonism has emerged as a state-sanctioned ideology, intertwining racism, exclusion, and nationalist spectacle to redefine Egyptian identity and maintain regime stability in a period of crisis. The tourism industry is one space in which the Egyptian state crafts and promotes this identity.

3. Contemporary Egyptian Racial-National Identity in Tourism

Over the past decade, Egypt’s tourism industry accounted for ~3.0%–~3.5% of its GDP. It faced considerable obstacles—including fatal airplane crashes (2015, 2016), a currency collapse (2016), and the COVID-19 pandemic (2020)—causing significant fluctuations in industry profits. Additionally, multiple countries, including two of Egypt’s top markets, Russia and the UK, maintained strict travel warnings for extended periods. Some countries even issued complete bans on direct flights to Egyptian resorts. Nevertheless, the industry managed to bounce back every time. In fact, Egypt’s tourism share of the GDP is currently at a record high, and industry revenue is projected to be almost three times as much as in 2015 (Egypt International Tourism Revenue n.d.; Galal 2024). The Central Bank of Egypt (CBE) played a crucial role in supporting the tourism sector through multiple initiatives. Overall, the CBE has increased its spending on tourism initiatives over the last decade focusing on hotel construction, renovation, and expansion in key tourism regions including Luxor, Aswan, Greater Cairo, the Red Sea, and South Sinai from EGP 5 billion (USD 105,595,900) in 2016 to EGP 50 billion (over USD 1 billion) in 2019, 2024, and again in 2025 (Al-Youm 2019; Egypt Sees Growth in Visitor Numbers and Tourism Revenue 2018). This investment in tourism by Egyptian institutions demonstrates a commitment to and confidence in the tourism industry. It is perhaps also an indication that the value of Egypt’s tourism extends beyond the direct revenue it generates.

Tourism functions as a site for (re)negotiating Egyptian whiteness, Arabness, and Africanness. It is a battleground for international image-making. These tensions are materially reflected in state-sanctioned tourism marketing. To better understand these practices and tease out any existing racial components, I conducted an integrated qualitative analysis (critical discourse analysis and content analysis) of ETA’s official channels (the official YouTube channel “Experience Egypt” and ministry websites). Quantitative analysis of frequency counts for major themes in campaign language and imagery (e.g., history and heritage; safety and security; authenticity and connection) systematically coded from ETA-sponsored videos (2015–2025) also informed this paper’s conclusions. A list of campaigns, their target demographics, slogans, goals, and methods are listed in

Table 2. Table of government-sanctioned Egyptian tourism campaigns.

Year	Campaign Name/Slogan	Target Demographics	Goals	Methods
2013	Experience Egypt	All tourists	Continually changing with new focuses and promotional activities.	Continually changing with new focuses and promotional activities.
2015	Egypt is close (Masr Qariba)	Arab tourists	Highlighting that Egypt is a close, accessible, and affordable destination for Arab visitors, especially during the winter for sunshine holidays.	Encouraging direct flights from Middle Eastern capitals, such as Amman and Beirut, to tourist destinations like Hurghada and Sharm el-Sheikh.
2015	#ThisIsEgypt	Arab tourists	Highlighting Egypt’s key attractions, including the Nile Valley, the Red Sea Riviera, the Mediterranean, and the Western Desert.	A three-year, digitally led campaign focusing on peer-to-peer advocacy.
2022	Follow the Sun	UK tourists	Drive interest in Egypt as a summer vacation spot by appealing to the desire for sunshine.	Personalized Ads: Creative automation to tailor video ads based on real-time weather data in specific areas. When it was raining or cloudy in the UK, the ads would display visuals of Egypt’s sunny skies and historical sites, with the tagline “follow the sun”.
2023	English Premier League Campaign	International tourists	Highlighted a mix of modern and historical sites, including the Red Sea resort of Marsa Alam, the city of New Alamein, and historical landmarks such as the Abu Simbel temple.	The campaign used two-minute advertisements during Premier League matches.
2025	We are Egypt	Egyptian Locals	Encouraging positive behavior towards tourists among locals and raising public awareness of the direct economic benefits of tourism and the importance of citizens acting as ambassadors for Egyptian tourism.	Outdoor ads in major streets and squares across various governorates for eight weeks, alongside radio and television ads during key programs and shows for six to eight weeks.

below.

English-language campaigns prioritize appeals to history/heritage, modern luxury, and safety. They highlight Egypt’s ancient wonders, global accessibility, and world-class venues. There was a steady increase in the focus on luxury/modernity in Red Sea, Alamein, and New City English-language campaigns. Content promoting Egypt as a safe, welcoming, and stable travel destination spiked during times of international concern (e.g., post-Arab Spring, post-COVID-19). In these periods, ETA campaigns increased their emphasis on Egypt’s ability to recover, its enduring history, and rebranding the country as a safe, resilient, and welcoming destination for international visitors. Arabic language campaigns blend heritage with present-day identity. There is a strong emphasis on hospitality, culture, and national pride. Terms such as “nation,” “hospitality,” “civilization,” “authenticity,” and “home of history” appeared frequently.

3.1. The Hidden Egyptian: In the Shadows Between Western Modernity and (Colonial) Antiquity

History/heritage is the most frequent and prominent theme in both English and Arabic content. The Experience Egypt YouTube account also produced videos in French, Italian, Russian, and Turkish; however, most videos are in English, followed by Arabic. English-language ETA campaign videos are dominated by monumental heritage shots of the Pyramids, the Sphinx, the Grand Egyptian Museum (GEM), the Nile, the desert, and ancient temples as seen in Figure 1 below. Prioritizing these ancient sites over representations of locals or contemporary Egyptian spaces obscures the indigenous population. It presents Egypt as an ancient playground for tourists to roam freely. These are curated choices that replicate colonial racial projects by ejecting the Egyptian out of (ancient) Egypt. Western tourists can then imagine themselves in these representations of an ancient and mythical Egypt, sanitized of any modern-day realities or implications. It is as if to say the most attractive Egypt is one empty of Egyptians and the most interesting Egyptian is a mythical one.

Egypt’s promotional tourism videos market this mythology. In December 2015, the “Experience Egypt” YouTube channel posted a video targeting the 2015 cycle of tourists titled “Egypt: Live the Magic!” The video was captioned “Visit the sunny land, enjoy by the magic of Egypt.” Greetings from Luxor and Aswan!” The video begins with a white, young, and slim man—he is aggressively neutral. The man is stuck in traffic in what looks like Times Square, a symbol of Western modernity and development in a city (New York) considered its center. The giant advertisement screens hanging above and around the congested road suddenly switch to an image of hieroglyph-covered walls and a woman in the foreground, her back to us. The man in the car fixates on the attractive and dark-haired–but fair-skinned–woman. She is exotic and almost otherworldly but well within Western beauty ideals. The video on the advertisement screens zooms in on the woman’s face. She turns around and makes eye contact with the viewer—wind in her hair—the chaos of traffic gives way to the hypnotic strums of a harp. The woman is excessively mysterious and seductive. One can infer she is a personification of the “magic” promised by the video’s title. She is an ancient, otherworldly seductress, pulling the average Joe out of the monotony of modern life.

She claps her hands twice, as depicted in Figure 2 above, and the man gets pulled out of his car and into the sky by an invisible force. The man is dropped onto the deck of a docked cruise ship. We see a quick shot of him falling onto a pool chair through a wine glass filled with water. His image, as seen in Figure 3 below, is inverted and slightly distorted, making him look like he is in a fishbowl. However, the magical, sexy Egypt is not sinister. The colors are bright and the sounds are upbeat. The inverted fishbowl angle feels like a whacky carnival mirror.

Next, we see a quick shot of a dark-skinned man in colorful clothing walking past our displaced driver. The dark-skinned man is holding a tray of drinks and looking down at it as he walks by. The displaced driver seems to look right past him as he grabs a drink from the tray. The two men never look each other in the eye. It is as if one does not exist to the other. This theme of disconnection between Western tourists and locals is present throughout these videos. Locals are presented either as exhibits of provinciality or magic, or invisible facilitators of luxury and service.

The white man looks out at the water (the viewer can assume it is the Nile) with green banks. He is wearing khakis and a button-up shirt throughout the video. He is out of place yet has complete authority throughout his exploration. There are a lot of shots of golden-hour-like sun peeking in and out of the background, and big blue skies dotted with unthreatening clouds. The man is in a horse-drawn carriage, with a dark-skinned man in traditional clothing at the front. They go through streets lined with ancient monuments. The roads and sites are empty of people. It is as if this entire world and its ancient history exist for him alone. The man strolls through Roman-style pillars and Pharaonic temples. Again, he is the only person there.

He is suddenly on a small boat on the water among black men dressed in traditional clothing, smiling and dancing in the sun. Notably, he walks among them as they dance, but they do not interact with him, and he with them. It is as if he is invisibly walking through a real-life exhibit. He looks around in leisurely wonder, but no one examines him back.

We see quick, cheerful shots of a bouncing baby goat with a little black boy in traditional dress. Like the seductive woman on the giant screen, his back is to us. The little boy is looking out onto a green field. He turns around to look directly into the camera and smiles. The woman before him did the same to seduce the man into action, and the little boy turned to him with playful and childish energy. The camera follows in active shots of the little boy riding his bike fast through an alley and between hanging white laundry. A little girl runs ahead playfully. For a fraction of a second, we see an older woman in black wearing a hijab sitting on the ground looking down. She is there only for a moment, and in contrast to the youthful explosion of activity and the bright colors of the background. She is static and in black.

Next, we see colorful hot air balloons flying over an aerial shot of green land. It is too high to see anyone, but we get quick shots of the man smiling with wonder and intrigue at the empty landscape. He is high above and looks at ease. Suddenly, we get a close-up of his closed eye. He opens, and we are looking right into his iris. This shot is repeated throughout Western-facing videos. Perhaps because this version of Egypt exists in Western imaginations and is beheld by Western irises. The camera zooms out, and the man is back in his car with the sounds of traffic bringing him back to reality. In his rearview mirror, however, we see a shot of the woman from the ad screens’ eyes looking right back at us, saying “Egypt, live the magic.” This video is illustrative of how Egypt’s tourism marketing leverages racialized Western imaginations of an exotic Egypt specifically for Western tourists. The narrative centers on the white male traveler, positioning him as both the protagonist and privileged observer; Egypt is depicted as a land of mystery and magic, an ancient spectacle awaiting discovery.

Rather than portraying Egypt as a living, contemporary society, the promotional video constructs the country as a curated fantasy world, emptied of everyday life, history, and agency, except as they relate to the tourist’s experience. The “magic” of Egypt becomes synonymous with seduction, leisure, and spectacle, represented by archetypal figures—the mysterious, fair-skinned, dark-haired woman, the playful child, and the colorfully dressed locals who inhabit the scene but exist only as background or service providers. The tourist’s journey is marked by disconnection: locals do not interact with him, the spaces are emptied for his exclusive enjoyment, and local people are either objects of passive gaze or facilitators of his pleasure.

The white traveler’s movement through the landscape is effortless, uninterrupted, and marked by authority: he navigates ancient sites alone, rides carriages steered by silent locals, observes celebrations without engagement, and ascends above it all in a hot air balloon—always watching, never truly connecting. This detachment perpetuates a colonial gaze: Egypt is imagined solely through Western eyes, reinforcing the notion that the country and its people exist primarily as spectacle and service for outsiders.

Moreover, the repeated motif of the “eye”—the woman’s seductive glance, the child’s playful smile, and ultimately the close-up of the traveler’s own iris—symbolizes how Egypt is constructed and consumed within Western visual and racial frameworks. The closing scene, with reality snapping back even as the magical gaze lingers in the mirror, underscores that the fantasy of Egypt is sustained in the Western imagination, promising both escape and dominion. This marketing strategy reflects a persistent legacy of colonial dynamics—not simply selling picturesque landscapes but a sanitized, commodified Egypt divorced from its reality and history, mapped in ways that center and privilege the Western tourist while relegating local people to supporting roles. In this context, Egypt’s tourism campaigns do not just advertise destinations; they perpetuate, through imagery and narrative, a racialized and hierarchical vision of Egypt tailored to Western desires and fantasies.

A modern history of Egypt rarely appears in state-sponsored content. Egypt’s representation of its history is almost exclusively Pharaonic. Additionally, its Western tourism is almost entirely focused on ancient monuments and themes. The home page of the Ministry of Tourism and Antiquities website (as seen in Figure 4 below) guides visitors through 5 main pages: Museums, Sites and Monuments, Sunken Monuments, Events, and Children’s World. At the far right side of the home page, you get half a glimpse of a golden Pharaonic sarcophagus. Imagery throughout the site is almost exclusively Pharaonic, and so is the content advertised.

When you navigate to “Museums”, the Alexandria National Museum, containing many Pharaonic exhibits, is dominantly presented in the center of the page. The sites and monuments included on the next page are also Pharaonic. No monuments or sites of Egypt’s recent history are promoted. I assumed the sunken monuments, which the following page shown in Figure 5 would reveal, were the Nubian villages submerged during the construction of the High Dam. Instead, it was underwater Pharaonic and Roman monuments in Abu Qir Bay, Alexandria. The only event on the “Events” page was an Underwater Cultural Heritage Day, referencing the Abu Qir Bay monuments, sponsored by the Alexandria National Museum. Finally, the “Children’s World” page advertised events at the Egyptian Museum, which is also predominantly Pharaonic.

Egypt’s African heritage is also glaringly absent. Although the majority of ETA campaign images are of historical destinations and monuments, they are almost exclusively Pharaonic and rarely feature Nubian heritage, sites, or cultural motifs. Nubian-related content, if present, tends to be incidental—e.g., brief mentions of the Nubian village near Aswan or visual motifs in broader southern Egypt tourism promotions, but not as a focus. Rare content may showcase Aswan’s colorful Nubian villages, Lake Nasser, or the relocated temples of Abu Simbel (which have Nubian historical significance). Yet, these sites are typically framed as part of Egypt’s ancient or “Southern” wonders, rather than explicitly as Nubian cultural destinations. Nubian culture, music, and people have minimal presence and are not systematically included as major themes or visual codes in ETA’s branding. ETA campaigns systematically prioritize Pharaonic monuments, major national museum launches (which are also dominantly Pharaonic), and the Nile’s iconic northern imagery over Nubian-specific content. Nubian heritage, sites, and representation are marginal, but so are African bodies. When people are included in Western-facing campaign visuals, models are predominantly lighter-skinned Egyptians, including representations of Arab diversity. Black African presence, however, was minimal and flat, evoked to portray provinciality. These representational exclusions of Egyptian bodies in general, and black Egyptian ones in particular, are in line with Egypt’s Western-facing, racially laden identity of Pharaonic adventure severed from modern Egyptians. It is also representative of Egypt’s historical exclusion of blackness/Africanness and the current neo-Pharaonic racial nationalism that has taken hold.

3.2. Arab Kinship and African Absence

Arabic-language content emphasizes hospitality, culture, and national pride. Direct black African or pan-African references and imagery remain rare to absent throughout this category as well. Narratives showcase Egyptian hospitality, community connections, and authentic, personal local experiences, reinforcing Arab-Egyptian identity and kinship. These themes appear more prominently in Arabic-language than English-language content. Campaigns like “Egypt is Close” (Masr Orayeba) directly appeal to Gulf countries. This campaign included several videos featuring original music, Egyptian and Gulf artists, and celebrity cameos. In contrast to the English-language videos, these were entirely focused on people rather than sites and nature and showcased diversity in population and activities. Egyptians appeared, as shown in Figure 6 and Figure 7, in modern clothing like jeans, dresses, and t-shirts, and partaking in everyday and personal activities like playing football, fishing, playing backgammon at a local cafe, and even getting married.

A series of videos featured an Arabic voiceover that described Egypt as the Arab viewer’s “second home,” emphasizing kinship. The videos highlighted Egyptian hospitality and gift giving qualities at the heart of Arab culture. They include frequent shots of a man in traditional Gulf attire in the background interacting with an Egyptian in the foreground. However, these interactions often reveal a power imbalance that contradicts this directorial positioning. The visitor from the Gulf is sold on familiar kinship, but also on luxury. The Egyptians the Gulf man interacts with (passport control officer, driver, etc.), as seen in Figure 8, are in positions of service to him as the economically dominant guest.

Arabic-language tourism campaigns present a different, yet still highly constructed, narrative for regional audiences. The focus shifts from the exotic spectacle of ancient monuments to themes that resonate with Arab cultural values—hospitality, communal ties, and national pride. Campaigns like “Egypt is Close” (Masr Orayeba) underscore emotional and social connectivity, depicting Egyptians in relatable, contemporary settings and activities—emphasizing everyday life and authenticity rather than monumentality.

However, despite this shift, the representation of “Egyptianness” in these materials is tightly circumscribed: the content reinforces an Arab-Egyptian identity, and there is a conspicuous absence of black African or pan-African references and imagery. This selective framing constructs Egypt as part of a broader Arab kinship network rather than a pluralist, Afro-Arab nation, quietly excluding identities and histories that do not fit within this Arab-centered narrative.

Kinship and belonging are leveraged to appeal to tourists from the Gulf states. Through Arabic voiceovers referring to Egypt as the “second home” of Arab visitors, these videos cultivate a sense of warm welcome and shared cultural heritage. Frequent shots of Gulf visitors interacting with Egyptians serve to reinforce this narrative of regional brotherhood. Yet, a closer look reveals underlying tensions: the interactions between Gulf visitors and Egyptians (passport control officers, drivers, etc.) often replicate real-world economic hierarchies. Egyptians are invariably cast in service roles, highlighting the power imbalance embedded within the hospitality being performed. The kinship offered is not entirely equal; Egyptian hospitality is as much about service and deference to the economically ascendant Gulf tourist as it is about shared roots.

Arabic-language campaigns construct an image of Egypt as an authentically “Arab” nation, rooted in hospitality and kinship. Still, they do so by excluding non-Arab African identities and by subtly reinforcing economic hierarchies between host and visitor. The representation is thus tailored not only to cultural affinities but also to social and economic realities, blending inclusivity with selective erasure and reframing service as a form of familial welcome.

4. Conclusions

This analysis demonstrates that Egyptian national identity is actively constructed in dialog with ancient mythologies, global racial hierarchies, and the material realities of the modern state. First, Egypt engages with ancient Egyptian mythologies in the formation of its national-racial identity by foregrounding Pharaonic heritage in both state discourse and visual culture. This strategy leverages colonial-era racial mythmaking to claim civilizational continuity and prestige. Yet, it is not a passive inheritance: Egypt selectively mobilizes ancient symbolism to secure legitimacy, promote national unity, and assert international relevance.

Second, Egypt’s national identity project navigates Western racial mythologies in complex ways—at times acquiescing to, resisting, or reframing them. Western imaginaries of Egypt as exotic, mystical, and racially ambiguous are not simply reproduced, but strategically adopted in tourism campaigns to appeal to Western consumers. However, Egypt’s agency is circumscribed by global economic pressures and the enduring logic of white supremacy embedded in the global tourism industry. At the same time, dissenting voices within Egypt contest these narratives, revealing ongoing struggles over representation and history.

Third, tourism functions as a dynamic site for (re)negotiating Egyptian whiteness, Arabness, and Africanness. The state manages a dual or “double consciousness”: externally, it presents a version of Egypt rooted in Pharaonic and Mediterranean whiteness for Western audiences, while internally, it oscillates between Arab, Islamic, and territorial identities. Notably, Africanness is marginalized, and the exclusion of Nubian and black African identity persists both in media and policy. Tourism thus amplifies and reflects broader social contests over belonging, hierarchy, and authenticity.

Fourth, these tensions are materially reflected in media, tourism marketing, and state action. Western-facing campaigns privilege monumental heritage and racialized depictions of Egypt, often sidelining contemporary local experiences and African identities. Arabic-language campaigns emphasize hospitality and kinship, reinforcing Arab identity but also economic stratification. State initiatives and investments in tourism prioritize narratives and imagery that support the prevailing identity project. At the same time, the marginalization of Nubian and African histories in public memory and monumental preservation reveals the selective boundaries of inclusion.

Egypt’s national identity formation is a process of strategic negotiation—embracing, contesting, and reshaping ancient and modern mythologies to serve shifting political, economic, and cultural aims. The case of Egyptian tourism underscores how nation-states exercise agency within global structures of race and racism, even as the costs of exclusion, erasure, and colonial legacy remain deeply felt in collective memory and contemporary practice.