LONDON (AP) – The Egyptians who took to the streets on January 25, 2011, knew what they were doing. They knew they were in danger of being arrested even worse. But as their numbers grew in Cairo’s central Tahrir Square, they enjoyed success.
Police forces withdrew and in a few days, former President Hosni Mubarak agreed to resign.
But the events did not turn out as many of the protesters imagined. A decade later, thousands are estimated to have fled abroad to escape the government of President Abdel Fattah el-Sissi, who is considered even more oppressive. The significant loss of academics, artists, journalists and other intellectuals, along with a climate of fear, has prevented any political opposition.
Dr. Mohamed Aboelgheit was among those imprisoned in the south of Assiut in 2011, after joining the demands for revolt against the brutality of the police and Mubarak. He spent part of the uprising in a crowded cell.
Freed in the midst of chaos, he enjoyed the atmosphere of political freedom in the most populous country in the Arab world – protesting, working as a journalist and joining a campaign for a moderate presidential candidate. But it didn’t last.
The interim military leaders followed Mubarak. In 2012, Mohamed Morsi, a member of Egypt’s strongest Islamist group, the Muslim Brotherhood, was elected the first civilian president in the country’s history. But his term proved divisible. Amid massive protests, the army – led by then-Defense Minister el-Sissi – ousted Morsi in 2013, dissolved parliament and eventually banned the Brotherhood as a “terrorist group”. Dissenting repression followed, and el-Sissi won two seats in elections that human rights groups criticized as undemocratic.
“I gradually began to feel more fear and threats,” Aboelgheit said. Friends were imprisoned, his writings criticizing the government drew attention and “I was not going to wait until it happened to me,” he added.
After el-Sissi came to power, Aboelgheit left for London, where he published investigative reports on other parts of the Arab world.
At his former home in Egypt, national security agents asked about him. When Aboelgheit’s wife last returned to visit relatives, she was called in for questioning about her activities. The message was clear.
No one knows exactly how many Egyptians like Aboelgheit fled political persecution.
World Bank data show an increase in emigrants from Egypt since 2011. A total of 3,444,832 remained in 2017 – almost 60,000 more than in 2013, the years for which figures are available. But it is impossible to tell economic migrants from political exiles.
They moved to Berlin, Paris and London. The Egyptians also settled in Turkey, Qatar, Sudan and even Asian countries, such as Malaysia and South Korea.
Human Rights Watch estimated in 2019 that there were 60,000 political prisoners in Egypt. The Committee to Protect Journalists ranks Egypt third, behind China and Turkey, in detaining journalists.
El-Sissi claims that Egypt has no political prisoners. The arrest of a journalist or a legal worker makes the news appear approximately every month. Many people have been jailed on terrorism charges for violating the protest ban or spreading false news. Others remain in indefinite pre-trial detention.
El-Sissi claims that Egypt prevents Islamic extremism, so it does not descend into chaos like its neighbors.
“Sissi not only wants to repeal the rights of the opposition and prevent any critical voice from being spoken, Sissi doesn’t really believe not only in opposition, but she doesn’t believe in politics,” said Khaled Fahmy, an Egyptian professor of modern Middle Eastern history Cambridge University
Fahmy believes this is the worst period in modern Egyptian history for personal rights.
“It’s much worse, it’s much deeper and much darker, which Sissi has in mind,” he said.
Those abroad who could challenge el-Sissi have chosen not to return.
Taqadum al-Khatib, an academician who also worked on the political scene born after 2011, is researching the former Jewish community in Egypt, Germany, when he learned that returning to his homeland is no longer an option.
The Egyptian cultural attaché in Berlin summoned al-Khatib for a meeting, and an official asked him about his articles, social media posts and research. He was asked to hand over his passport, but he refused. Shortly afterwards, he was fired from his job at an Egyptian university. He feels lucky to be able to work on his doctorate in Germany, but he misses the hustle and bustle of Cairo.
“It is a very difficult situation. I could not return home, “al-Khatib said.
Fahmy said he saw sincere expatriates revoked Egyptian citizenship.
A government press officer did not respond to a request for comment on targeting and intimidating Egyptians – either abroad or at home – based on their work as journalists, activists or academics or for expressing political views.
Journalist Asma Khatib, 29, remembers the dizzying days of 2011, when young people thought they could make a difference.
A reporter for a pro-Muslim Brotherhood news agency, Khatib covered Morsi’s brief presidency amid criticism that the group uses violence against opponents and seeks to monopolize power to make Egypt an Islamic state. Following Morsi’s removal, his supporters held meetings for his reintegration into a Cairo market. A month later, the new military leaders forcibly removed them and more than 600 people were killed.
Khatib documented the violence. Soon, her colleagues began to be arrested, and she fled Egypt – first to Malaysia, then to Indonesia and Turkey.
In 2015, she was tried for lack of espionage charges, convicted and sentenced to death. Now she and her husband Ahmed Saad, also a journalist, and their two children are seeking asylum in South Korea.
They expect to never return, but they also realize that they are lucky to be free. On the day of announcing the decision, the journalist remembers that she said to herself: “You don’t have a country anymore”.
“I know there are many others like me. I’m no different from those in prison, “she said.
The exiles had enough time to think about where the Egyptian uprising had failed. The broad alliance of protesters – from Islamists to secular activists – broke without a common enemy like Mubarak, and the most extreme voices became the strongest. The role of religion in society has largely remained unanswered, and secular liberal initiatives have never gained traction. No one realized how many people would embrace the former figures of the regime, especially in a crisis.
Most Egyptians abroad were not politically active, fearing family and friends at home. But some continued on the path begun on January 25, 2011.
Tamim Heikal, who was working in the corporate world when the protests broke out, doubted the government could ever reform. But he soon became communications manager for an emerging political party. Later, he followed others in jail and learned that it was his turn when he received an invitation from intelligence officers in 2017 to “come and drink coffee.”
He booked a ticket to Paris and never returned.
Now 42, he wants to educate himself and others for when a popular movement reappears in Egypt. He fulfills his heads by editing, translating and consulting for rights groups and trying to network between the diaspora.
“It’s like I was infected with a virus after the revolution,” he said. “I do not know how to return. I will not be able to relax until it changes. “
Others try to cope in strange countries. Asma Khatib and her husband are not sure what to say to their young children when they ask where they are from.
Abouelgheit, the doctor who became a journalist, worries that his son will not speak Arabic after so long in the United Kingdom.
He hopes to go home one day, but in the meantime he plans to return to the medical profession.