In the days leading up to President Xi Jinping‘s state visit to Egypt, the Cairo municipality undertook a rapid makeover of Tahrir Square. Among the 40 artworks commissioned for the occasion, a 66-metre mural showcasing Pharaoh Tutankhamun and Queen Nefertiti drew immediate attention. Painted by the volunteer collective Rasmet Basma the piece was completed in just five days at the end of August and featured the royal couple rendered in a golden-bronze hue that turned their faces dark-skinned after nightfall.
Social media users quickly seized on the colour choice, interpreting it as a visual endorsement of Afrocentrism – a political perspective that argues ancient Egyptian civilization was fundamentally Black African. Within hours, the online outcry intensified, prompting Cairo’s governorate to request that the mural be painted over. By the time Xi touched down in Egypt, the wall had been covered with a fresh coat of white paint, erasing the controversial depiction.
From volunteer enthusiasm to official reversal
The project began as a civic showcase. Ahmed Moussa a 22-year-old founder of Rasmet Basma, explained that the group had been encouraged by the deputy governor and the district chief, who visited the site regularly and praised the growing collection of murals. The volunteers relied on the ChatGPT artificial-intelligence tool to generate the composition, after which they transferred the design onto the wall by hand.
After the murals were unveiled, a cluster of comments on social platforms questioned whether the artists had even consulted historical sources. One user sarcastically asked if anyone had “seen what Nefertiti actually looked like.” The backlash was not confined to the internet; Egypt’s former antiquities minister, Zahi Hawass publicly condemned the work, stating that the volunteers should never have been permitted to alter a site as symbolically charged as Tahrir Square without professional supervision.
Scholarly and technological criticism
Academic voices entered the fray, reaffirming that the notion of a uniformly Black ancient Egypt is historically inaccurate. Monica Hanna an Egyptologist at the American University of Iraq–Baghdad, labelled Afrocentric claims as “pseudoscience” and emphasized Egypt’s longstanding ethnic diversity, ranging from Nubian communities in the south to Mediterranean peoples in the north. She noted, “Egyptians were never one skin colour.”
Parallel to the cultural debate, experts highlighted the pitfalls of employing AI in heritage projects. Walid Mahmoud an AI researcher specializing in African anthropology, warned that tools like ChatGPT tend to reproduce the most widely circulated online narratives rather than verified facts. Because the algorithms are developed by companies in the United States and Europe, their outputs can inadvertently shape perceptions of cultural identity for global audiences.
Artistic integrity versus automation
Art critic Mostafa Eissa underscored that while technology can augment creativity, it must never replace the human judgment that gives a work its soul. “I favour using technology without abandoning the human element within the artist,” he said, cautioning that over-reliance on AI risks stripping a piece of its originality.
In the aftermath, the mural’s removal has become a flashpoint for three intersecting discussions: the politics of representation in Egyptian heritage, the responsibility of municipal authorities to oversee public art, and the ethical limits of artificial intelligence in culturally sensitive contexts. As Cairo prepares for future diplomatic events, the episode serves as a reminder that visual narratives—especially those touching on ancient identities—must be crafted with scholarly input and public transparency.
