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Political Talk Shows: Hidden Deals to Assassinate Free Expression and Mislead the Public

  • Writer: Marwan Yassin Al-Dulaimi
    Marwan Yassin Al-Dulaimi
  • Oct 7
  • 11 min read

By Marwan Yaseen Al-Dulaimi


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Since television screens turned into daily platforms for shaping public opinion, freedom of expression has ceased to be the lonely concern of a writer in his solitude or a poet searching for a metaphor in his notebook. It has become hostage to studios overflowing with lights and plush chairs, where a well-dressed host distributes smiles as if handing out cheap banknotes. In these “ideologized” spaces, operating under the guise of political dialogue, the largest acts of collective deception are carried out. Public opinion is manufactured like a canned product—ready for consumption, flavorless, and odorless, except for what serves the interests of those behind the deal.


Canned Vision


The very meaning of “public opinion” has changed. It is no longer the result of free debate or open dialogue, but an industrial product assembled on television production lines. Guests enter studios like actors walking onto a film set—they know their roles perfectly: when to shout, when to feign shock at the agreed-upon cue, and how to end their performance with a rehearsed phrase that has become a media cliché. Meanwhile, viewers pretend they are witnessing diverse perspectives, when in fact they are merely watching a theatrical scene rehearsed dozens of times.


The studio, with its lights and glossy furniture, is nothing but a sterilized stage where public issues are transformed into marketable commodities. Every detail is dictated by market logic—the camera angle, the host’s gestures, the background music. Freedom of expression is no longer part of a living social and political pulse; it has become a “visual show” aired during prime time to attract advertisers. The dangerous question arises: Are we watching a political discussion—or an extended commercial for a prepackaged worldview?


Truth — A Technical Error to Be Fixed


More dangerously, this polished scene conceals layers of collusion. What appears on screen as a heated debate between opposing sides is, in essence, a distribution of roles within an unspoken agreement about what must be shown and what must remain hidden. The “opposition” only opposes within designated limits, and the “loyalists” never stray from the approved script. Anything that crosses these boundaries is deemed “unsuitable for broadcast,” promptly cut or replaced by a laughing shot of the host—as if truth itself were a technical glitch to be immediately corrected.


Thus, freedom of expression crumbles into crumbs thrown before the audience to convince them they are attending an intellectual feast. But as they draw closer, they find the table filled with compressed air: grand words without substance, dazzling slogans without context, and discussions that reflect only narrow interests. What is sold to the public as “political debate” is nothing but a commodity—its value measured not by honesty, but by its ability to keep viewers glued to the screen for as long as possible.


The Audience — Hostage to a Scripted Scenario


In this sense, the audience ceases to be a partner in shaping opinion and becomes a consumer of ready-made thought. They are not provoked to think or question but lured to swallow. And this is the essence of the danger: freedom of expression, once meant to liberate people from the dominance of a single narrative, has turned into a more efficient tool for enforcing that same narrative—now masked with multiple faces and decorated with glittering accessories.


The viewer, believing they are part of the dialogue, is in fact a hostage to a meticulously crafted script. Every gesture is calculated, every tone rehearsed—even moments of silence, seemingly spontaneous, are just musical pauses between memorized lines. The viewer sits excited before the screen, thinking they are witnessing something unique, while in reality they are watching a performance so thoroughly revised that it is more disciplined than any classical play.


A “Strict Intellectual Diet” Tailored to Political Markets


The words that clash on live TV reconcile behind the scenes, over a small wooden table, where bitter coffee is poured and agreement papers pass discreetly underneath. What appears to be fierce conflict between opposing political positions is merely the recycling of old familiarity among players who know their boundaries well. The guest who plays the fiery dissident leaves through the back door smiling at his supposed rival—they exchange a joke or schedule their next meeting. Both know the play is merely a cover to push a specific narrative, carefully crafted to convince the audience that truth has just been born before their eyes.


Even worse, this “secret pact” extends beyond the dialogue itself to the very topics chosen. Issues are not selected randomly; they are curated, much like dishes on the menu of an upscale restaurant. Some are pushed to the forefront to occupy public attention, while others are hidden away because they threaten the interests of sponsors and financiers. Thus, the viewer becomes a patient fed a “strict intellectual diet” — designed not to nourish, but to keep his mental weight aligned with the measurements of the political marketplace.


The Audience: A Willing Hostage to Packaged Convictions


What deepens the tragedy is that the audience—deceived by the illusion of participation—leaves the experience believing they have exercised their right to think, when in fact they have merely echoed lines cleverly fed to them. The guest and the host are nothing more than actors in a play written by an invisible hand: the financier, the power broker, or the deal-maker who knows perfectly well that all their voices are just instruments in the same orchestra.

Here, the viewer is not treated as a free being capable of discernment and choice, but as a “willing hostage”, led toward prepackaged conviction by the host’s smile, surrendering their mind to the script just as a sleeper gives in to a dream they cannot control. And therein lies the grand deception: granting the public the illusion of freedom while they remain in the heart of captivity.

This captivity needs no bars—the screens have done the job perfectly. It is enough for viewers to see two “opponents” exchange insults for them to believe they are witnessing a real confrontation, while the truth is that what unfolds before them is nothing more than a rehearsed duel whose outcome was decided long before. The victor is never the stronger argument or the clearer idea, but the pre-approved narrative negotiated behind the scenes—where there are no cameras, no audience, only complicit silence and handshakes under the table.


Freedom of Expression — The Showroom Display of Media Outlets


The most dangerous transformation is when freedom of expression becomes counterfeit currency, traded among profiteers like brokers exchanging shares in the stock market of national symbols. What we witness is not freedom in its profound philosophical sense, but an ornamental version displayed in the front windows of media shops, while the genuine article—authentic freedom of opinion—is smuggled into basements where no one can see it.


We live in an inverted age: the louder the talk about freedom, the tighter its real space becomes; the more we celebrate plurality, the more uniform the discourse grows behind a single, approved narrative. The media sells us the illusion of dissent and diversity just as a luxury store sells fake handbags with designer logos. Nothing inside is real except the shiny label; the interior is cheap fabric that falls apart after the first use.


This is how opposition is displayed on screen—manufactured, polished, directed, yet empty of essence. And the result? The public, instead of becoming more aware, sinks into a carefully engineered coma—one that doesn’t merely blind their vision but makes them believe they see clearly.


It is a coma meticulously produced—a thick fog of recycled phrases, prepackaged accusations, and distorted facts. We stand before a massive factory that endlessly recycles the same words, slapping on new labels to convince us that we’re witnessing “breaking news.” But the only urgent thing is the constant need to keep viewers busy, agitated, and incapable of asking the fundamental question: Who is writing the script? And who sets the boundaries of the dialogue?


Talk Shows — The Secret Market of Negotiation


A closer look at these programs reveals that “dialogue” is no longer a search for truth, but a covert marketplace for negotiation. Every sentence carries a clause from a hidden contract; every word comes with an unspoken ceiling. Even silence—the space between words—betrays what cannot be said, exposing the limits of the game.


When the shouting intensifies or a guest storms off dramatically on camera, we assume we’re witnessing a heated clash. But in reality, these emotional bursts are merely theatrical pauses meant to deceive viewers into believing that history is being written live—while the real decisions were made hours earlier in a closed room, around a table where men know precisely what may be said, and what must be buried.


Even more dangerous is that these repeated performances don’t just deceive audiences in the moment—they reshape their consciousness over time. When a scene is replayed often enough, habit becomes stronger than doubt. Lies turn into certainties. Illusion becomes more stable than truth. The viewer who once thought they were part of a living debate gradually becomes part of a trained audience—one that knows how to applaud, not how to think.


The Manufacture of a False Freedom Meant to Conceal Truth


It becomes clear, then, that the issue is not the presence of censorship, but the manufacture of false freedom—a theatrical display designed to hide truth rather than reveal it, to keep the audience circling within an illusion of choice. They move between different voices but encounter only the same echo, endlessly repeating: Stay calm, everything is under control.


Here, manipulation is not enforced through direct repression, as in traditional regimes that silenced voices with batons, but through a far deadlier illusion: the simulation of freedom. The viewer, flipping between channels and hearing multiple voices, believes they are seeing a mosaic of opinions, when in truth they are trapped inside a carefully designed maze—one with no exits except those permitted by the unseen hand that designed its paths.


The voices that seem to clash and contradict are in fact instruments in a single composition, each playing a preassigned note to complete the illusion of plurality.


And so, the audience leaves this experience as they entered it—empty of real knowledge. Yet they do not leave entirely empty; they carry with them a dangerous dose of false confidence. They feel “informed,” while all they have gained is a refined version of their old ignorance. This false confidence is more perilous than ignorance itself, for it locks the door to questioning, dulls awareness of the void, and convinces them that they are participants in dialogue when, in truth, they are silent spectators in a paid performance—having bought their ticket with their time and imagination.


Polished Language, Hollow as Metal Cans


Not far from this scene, the political lexicon itself is being reshaped—refined, polished, yet hollow like empty metal cans. Grand concepts—freedom, justice, dignity—are reduced to shiny, digestible slogans: “stability,” “national interest,” “constructive dialogue.” Words that gleam under studio lights like freshly minted coins, yet their real worth is no more than a linguistic trick. The irony is that with repetition, these very words become keys to thought itself. The public adopts them as if they were their own concepts, when in reality they were crafted to confine thinking, not free it.


Here lies the greatest danger: that small lies become everyday language, and illusions turn into part of our normal speech. At that point, distinguishing truth from falsehood becomes impossible—because the very tool meant to reveal deception, language, has itself become contaminated. What begins as a small agreement between a guest, a host, and a channel owner gradually transforms into an accepted “truth,” lived and repeated by people until it becomes part of their collective consciousness.


The result is that lies no longer appear as passing statements or occasional fabrications—they evolve into an entire system of life. A system that functions efficiently because it requires no effort to persuade. People themselves become its agents, repeating its phrases, reproducing its slogans in cafés, workplaces, and across social media. Thus, deception ceases to be a backstage deal and becomes the very air a society breathes—all while the performance is sold as “freedom in its finest form.”


It is the peak of irony: that the iron ceiling of discourse appears as a blue sky in the eyes of the public; that people believe they possess their own voices while merely echoing what has been cleverly programmed into them—like parrots mistaking their echo for their own song.


Globalized Repression Measured in Seconds and Gestures


And if someone dares to break this closed circle—to deviate from the approved script or utter what was not agreed upon—they are swiftly returned to silence, in the most polite ways possible. There is no need to raise a stick or shout into the microphone; it suffices to “mute” them under the pretext of a technical glitch, replace them with a more compliant guest, or quietly erase their presence from the digital archives as if they never existed.

This is not classical repression—it is globalized repression, measured in seconds and gestures, disguised under the banners of “time management” and “balance of opinions.” On the surface, these seem like routine professional standards, but at their core they are a cold-blooded execution of free expression—carried out with the very smile of the presenter.

Some may say: What’s strange about that? Isn’t media always about interests? But the danger lies not in discovering those interests, but in the media’s pretense of being free from them. The true peril begins when the media insists on playing the role of the impartial judge while being the most complicit party in the deal. It is not tragic to know that there’s a market for opinions—it is tragic to be deceived into believing we are witnessing genuine debate, when in fact it is nothing but a crude barter among partners who each know their limits and profits.


When people’s consciousness is built upon barter, the result is not a fleeting deception, but a complete remapping of the collective mind. Every subsequent political stance, social decision, or public discussion becomes an echo of those hidden deals. At that point, opinions are no longer the product of free thought, but extensions of contracts the public never signed—yet whose terms quietly govern their daily lives.


Stores Selling Lies Wrapped in Shiny Paper


What we see today resembles the bright façade of a luxury store: shelves lined with slogans of freedom and pluralism, arranged neatly and tastefully, while the real merchandise—honest dialogue—is smuggled to the back, where the true transactions take place. The viewer walks into this store thirsty for knowledge, hoping to carry home the fruit of sincere discussion, but walks out laden with bags of polished lies, wrapped in dazzling paper that catches the eye.


And the shinier the wrapping, the more certain the viewer becomes that they have bought “the truth.” Yet the only truth left unadorned is this: that freedom of expression itself has become the commodity for sale. The customer doesn’t realize they pay for it twice—once with their awareness, and once with their trust.


Even worse, this deception doesn’t stop at misleading the viewer in the moment; it plants a long-term disability—a kind of immunity against truth itself. What these shows produce is not mere distortion of facts, but the training of the public to reject any authentic discourse that doesn’t come dressed in the familiar theatrics of shouting and spectacle. Honesty begins to appear suspicious, while polished falsehood gains the prestige of “objectivity.”


At that point, deception evolves from a political tool into a public culture—from a media tactic into a deep-rooted tyranny.


A Tyranny That Speaks the Language of Freedom


This is the most dangerous form of tyranny: one that does not wear the cloak of oppression but speaks the language of freedom itself. A tyranny that hides behind studio décor and glossy graphics; that appears as “dialogue” while leaving only a hollow shell of it.

It is time we ask the question they all fear:If freedom of expression has become a transaction, who holds the right to sign on our behalf?And if public awareness is shaped in studios owned by the powerful and the wealthy, by what measure can we still call ourselves free?

The answer hangs in the void—but it grows clearer every time we look at that glowing screen that darkened our consciousness while gifting us a beautiful illusion, branded under a dazzling name: “Political Dialogue.”

The most dangerous thing these programs do is not that they deceive us, but that they redefine deception as truth.And when falsehood becomes the rule, sincerity turns into an unwanted exception. At that moment, the problem is no longer a freedom of expression that was taken away—but an awareness that was shackled while it applauded, believing itself free.


Marwan Yassin Al-Dulaimi, Iraqi poet, novelist, critic, journalist, TV presenter; awarded for short film directing and poetry creativity.

The opinions expressed in this article are solely the author’s and do not represent the views of Nisaba Media.


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