Britain is Complicit in Egypt’s Police State
Rishi Sunak claims to be committed to securing the release of British national Alaa Abd-El-Fattah from prison, but the UK government’s support for Egypt’s regime enables the mass incarceration of political activists.
Egypt's repression of political activists has been bolstered by British military and economic support. (Photo by Leon Neal/Getty Images)
‘We know that they’re happy for him to die. The only thing they care about is that it doesn’t happen while the world is watching. But the world is watching. And it’s not only watching the Egyptian authorities; it’s also watching other governments, including the U.K. government and other Western governments complicit in our oppression, who benefit from our oppression. Everyone always talks about how strong the U.K. and Egypt relationship is. Is torturing a dual citizen part of that strong relationship?’
In a mournful yet forceful voice, Sana Seif confronts the world with the reality of her brother’s situation in Egypt and, in a wider sense, the precarity of life in Egypt during a press conference at the UN Climate Summit (COP 27) held this year in Sharm El Sheikh, Egypt.
Sanaa’s brother is Alaa Abd El-Fattah, a prominent Egyptian British citizen and human rights activist. He is currently a political prisoner and has been one in Egypt for most of the last 12 years. Alaa has been on hunger strike for the last seven months and stopped drinking water on the day the U.N. climate summit began in Egypt, 6th November 2022.
At the time of the press conference on 8th November, Sanaa and the rest of Alaa’s family had no information on whether he was still alive or if he was being force-fed.
‘This has to end. It can end. There are three ways for it to end: Let the British Embassy visit him, or put him on a plane out of Egypt today, or he will die, and he will be relieved of this nightmare. But Alaa shouldn’t be forced against his will,’ Sanaa told reporters. ‘I would also like to remind you that my family’s ordeal is an extreme example, but it’s not the only example. There are tens of thousands of political prisoners in Egypt.’
A campaign of repression
Twelve years ago, Sanaa did not have to scream at the world. For a brief moment, Egyptian voices, like Sanaa’s and mine, seemed to be echoed around the world. For a brief moment, we were seen.
In 2011, the eyes of the world were on Tahrir Square, where hundreds of thousands of Egyptians gathered to demand their liberation. The non-violent protesters fought off one of the world’s most repressive security apparatuses. On the 18th day, Egyptian President Mohamed Hosni Mubarak was ousted from office. The global news channels called it a victory of a Revolution. And, after the 18th day, on their declared note of a happy ending for Egyptians, their cameras were turned off and moved away along with the eyes of the world as the military took over power in Egypt. And, we were again unseen.
In 12 years, amidst the world’s deafening silence, Egypt has been filling its ever-expanding prisons with all the dreamers of Tahrir (and other liberation squares across the country); over 60,000 of them, including women, men, and children. Some of those dreamers have spent repeated times behind bars, like the prominent activist and writer Alaa Abdel Fattah and his sister activist Sanaa Seif.
In an act of defiance of the world’s silence, in exposing the world’s complicity in the violence occurring in Egypt, Alaa’s sisters, Sanaa and Mona Seif (as well as the rest of his family) created a global platform of activism. As the eyes of the world have been directed again to Egypt for the UN Climate Summit in Egypt, Alaa’s sisters used the stage, which was never meant for her or any activist in Egypt, to force the world to witness the precarity of life in Egypt, by screaming, mournfully, yet forcefully, their brother’s name, their brother’s life.
British complicity
On the same day of the start of COP 27, and as Alaa drinks his last glass of water, UK Prime Minister Rishi Sunak sends a letter to Alaa’s family assuring them of the British government ‘total commitment’ to resolving Alaa’s issue, highlighting that his case is a ‘priority’ for the government ‘both as a human rights defender and a British national.’ In the letter, Sunak pledges to the family that the government will press for ‘urgent consular access as well as calling for his release at the highest levels of the Egyptian government.’
The carefully crafted letter shows that the government’s commitment to Alaa’s case is first because he is a ‘human rights defender’ and second for his British nationality. After so many bodies have slowly and painfully decayed in Egyptian prisons, the commitment to human rights comes as a great surprise. Nevertheless, like many Egyptians, I desperately hold onto the hope of Alaa living again.
However, our hearts cannot rest. The UK has been the largest investor in Egypt’s IMF loan, which was renewed prior to COP 27. The UK could have used its leverage to pressure Egypt’s regime, the most repressive in Egyptian history, on its gross human rights record. Instead, the UK used its leverage to further its trade deals in Egypt. According to the UK Department of International Trade, ‘Total UK exports to Egypt amounted to £2.4 billion in the four quarters to the end of Q2 2022 (an increase of 29.7 percent or £546 million compared to the four quarters to the end of Q2 2021).’
Furthermore, only last year, the UK government signed what the Ministry of Defense describes as a ‘landmark deal’ to sell two Royal Fleet Auxiliary ships to Egypt, a deal that would ‘support UK jobs.’ The MoD continued to celebrate the deal as the ‘first military vessel deal with Egypt in more than three decades’ and added that negotiations were underway for a ‘refurbishment contract’. The defence procurement minister stated that ‘both the UK and Egyptian navies continue to strengthen relations to maintain peace and security in the region.’
We still desperately hold onto hope, along with his anguished family, counting daily the number of hours left in Alaa’s life.
However, sadly, what we knew in our hearts came true only two days later. British Sunak came back from Egypt with empty hands. He left Egypt, without Alaa, without consular access, without assuring his family that he was alive, and without even mentioning Alaa’s name again.
The message is clear: Human rights are confined to the territories of the North. Egyptians, even dual-nationals, are not supposed to dream of freedom, even if their lives are at risk. Our lives are disposables, thrown away mercilessly for arms and trade deals.
As I write this, Alaa’s family receives a letter that he ended his seven-month hunger strike; his family is both relieved and apprehensive, they do not know why the strike was ended, and they also know that Alaa is still in prison in Egypt, which means his life is very much still at risk.
Our hearts are weighed down as we watch a family putting everything on the line, only to receive silence and apathy in return. They watch, like most Egyptians, for what the future holds for them.
Small dreams
In a couple of months, the world will be celebrating the new year. However, Egyptians will be in anticipation of the 25th of January. If you have been part of the dream, it’s that time of the year. A date on a calendar that leaves your body shaking, your lungs gasping for air, and your body immersed in pain until the pain becomes you. But you hold on to it, or it holds on to you because this insidious pain, your companion for 12 years, tells a phenomenal story. A story of both hope and despair, touching the sky and descending into the worst of nightmares, it’s emancipatory and imprisoning. One day, people who thought themselves sentenced to be forever in shackles ‘suspended belief’ in their subjugation and imagined they could break their bonds. One of those dreamers is Alaa Abdel Fattah, or as he has called himself, a ‘footsoldier’ in the Egyptian Revolution.
In the hour of despair, a recently released Egyptian activist reminds us of Mahmoud Darwish’s words: ‘we did not dream of insurmountable things’.
And we have our small dreams
Like waking up healed from disappointment
We didn’t dream of insurmountable things
We are alive, and surviving
and the dream has a continuance.
Will the world continue watching Alaa, and all the rest of the dreamers, being punished for their small dreams?