“Someone must have
been telling lies about Joseph K., for without having done anything wrong he
was arrested one fine morning. His landlady’s cook, who always brought him his
breakfast at eight o’clock, failed to appear on this occasion. That had never
happened before”. Those were the words of Franz Kafka from his novel “The
Trial”, published one year after his death. The novel, one of Kafka’s best-known works,
even thought it was never completed, tells the story of a certain someone
arrested and prosecuted by a remote, inaccessible authority and the nature of
his crime is never revealed to either himself or the reader.
In the beginning of
the novel, a senior bank clerk known by the name of Joseph K., is arrested
suddenly by unidentified agents for an unspecified crime. As the story unfolds,
Joseph K. is summoned to court back and forth, between advocates, witnesses and
bureaucratic procedures, and even though the idea is clear that there is a
process against him, no charges are trumped against him, as he repeatedly
visits the court and stands in the witness box pleading his case, not knowing
exactly what it is that he is pleading. One of K.’s bank clients advises him to
visit a man known as Titorelli, a painter from the court, who seems to have no
connections within the system but demonstrates an acute understanding of the
process taking place.
K. learns from this
mysterious man that not a single defendant has been ever acquitted in that
court and explains to him what his best options could be: The only resource
available to him is to use different tactics to delay the inevitable guilty
verdict for as long as he can. There seems to be nothing else that can be done
since nobody really knows what it is really the crime of which K. has been
accused. After an entire year in which doors have been closed before him even
before he tried to open them, and ultimately not knowing what he is being
accused of, two men arrive with orders to execute him and his last words serve
to describe his own death: “Like a dog!”
What at the time was
for Kafka a metaphor for things other than law – in the words of legal scholar
Reza Banakar – while presenting an examination of a particular concept of law
which operates as an integral part of the modern world, there is just so little
of metaphor today in trials without accusations, without charges and above all,
without justice.
These kind of
haphazard arrests and trials, no longer a novelistic gimmick or an exceptional
event, have become an everyday event in the Middle East where mock trials are
the most iconic manifestation of the counterrevolutionary efforts deployed by
the dying regimes to hold onto power by any possible means, and nowhere else
more than in Egypt, where the revolution of 2011 lapsed into a comatose state
of confusion after the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF) took over the
country’s leadership from ousted president Hosni Mubarak, transforming Egypt
into a de facto military dictatorship led by a military junta. Since the
revolution, over ten thousand Egyptians have been subject to such trials, what
is in numbers, several times more than those put to trial during the entire
Mubarak era.
That these arrests
and trials have been made in compliance with the laws of the land – whatever
those laws may be and whoever wrote them – is even less of a surprise, since it
does not take too much familiarity with politics or history anywhere to be
fully aware of the imminent divorce between law and justice in our times. Roger
Berkowitz, a scholar of law and philosophy phrases this contemporary situation
in the following terms: “For those of us living through the divorce of law from
justice, the rules of law appear naked, stripped bare of any claim to a higher
good. We may praise law for its legitimacy, its fairness, or its efficiency,
but we do not love it for its justice. The sequestering of justice in the world
beyond leaves this world prisoner to the whim of calculating bureaucrats,
legislators, and judges.
With the reduction of
law to policy, the weighing of interests, and the overwhelming demand that law
achieve political and social ends, the ethical idea of law as justice had fled
the earth. Law, the last bastion of the ethical world’s resistance to the rule
of scientists and experts, had succumbed to the lure of social engineering.
Just as man has become a human resource in the service of whatever social or
commercial end, so too is law nothing in itself.”
Clearly Egypt is nothing
of a lawless country; in fact, the opposite is true: a thick forest of both
archaic and modern legislation makes it possible for the world’s oldest state
to come even close to deliver justice: The Egyptian constitution provides
diversity of punishments for those critical of the regime or the state
religion, but yet offers little justice to victims of a wide range of crimes
perpetrated not only by other citizens but by the system of law and the
government itself. Where Kafka might have been mistaken in describing the
current state of affairs in Egypt is when he writes “That had never happened
before”; since it is well known that the grievances in the Egyptian street that
led to the uprising and subsequent revolution were not only economic, but also
social and political. Widespread corruption, censorship, random imprisonment
and a wide range of restrictions imposed on the Egyptian public sphere are not
an innovation of the military junta, but rather deep-rooted traditions of
authoritarian regimes in the Middle East, that in Egypt go back to the Egyptian
revolution of 1952.
Of course it is
another paradox – among the many that plague life in the Arab world – that the
revolution of Tahrir in 2011 would come to an apparent end when power was
handed out to the army, in order to fix the results of half a century of
injustice by the same institution – the military – that brought to an end the
glorious era of Egyptian cosmopolitism during which Cairo was known as the
Paris of the Orient, and musicians, intellectuals and businessmen flocked to
the city looking for opportunities and inspiration.
Egyptian writer Yahia
Lababidi tells us in his book “Trial by Ink” about the contradictions of that
“new” Egypt begot after the first revolution: “Much of the new morality is
fanned by a kind of Islamic panic, quite foreign to the laid-back Egyptian
character. It is the difference between a quiet confidence and a loud
insecurity. By defiantly accentuating a superficial religiosity, contemporary
Egyptians downplay their natural strengths and exaggerate their weaknesses.”
Though apparently secular in nature, these pseudo-secular nationalist regimes
of the Middle East profited infinitely by striking deals with the nascent
religious fundamentalism that making claims to an ancient religious tradition,
is in fact nowhere more at home than in the most irreligious and unspiritual
radical fundamentalisms of modernity.
Lababidi concludes by
saying: “Yet it was not always so. Witness local film stars of a few decades
ago – happily prancing around in minis and bikinis – or hear rueful stories
from members of past generations to know how open-minded and cosmopolitan Egypt
once was”. All of this was common knowledge before the uprising in 2011 and
during, in which hundreds and thousands of people took to the streets in order
to both restore Egypt to its former glory and create a new and different future
for all Egyptians. After weeks and weeks of massive protests that demanded the
resignation of long-time president Mubarak and the end of authoritarian rule,
weeks during which hundreds of people were butchered at the hands of the
military, in a surprising move, the army took the demonstrators’ side and helped
topple the long-time dictator.
A common saying was
coined in the Egyptian street and proclaimed out loud – “The Army and the
People Are One Hand”, which was followed by photographic footage of
demonstrators sleeping on top of military tanks and soldiers defending private
citizens from thugs, apparently sponsored by the dying regime. Did people know
at the time that this would be the beginning of a military junta period rather
than an age of democracy and freedom? Perhaps not. But there was one man,
Maikel Nabil, who did know, and who did not hesitate to publicize his view in
order to warn his fellow Egyptians that what had happened when power was turned
over to the military wasn’t the end of a revolution but rather the hijacking
and theft of the revolution itself on the part of a military council that was
neither democratic nor opposed to the salient regime.
Maikel Nabil Sanad, a
26-years-old blogger of Coptic origin, but self-proclaimed atheist and
political activist, was arrested by the military police on March 28, 2011, from
his home in Cairo and sentenced to three years imprisonment because of a blog
post titled “The
Army and the People Were Never One Hand” in which he described in detail
the extensive number of violations committed against demonstrators and human
rights activists even after the departure of Mubarak. Nabil was a controversial
figure in the Egyptian scene of human rights because of his being one of the
very few activists in the entire Arab world who advocated peace with the State
of Israel and who in 2009 founded the movement “No to Compulsory Military
Service”, declaring himself a conscientious objector, demanding to the exempted
from military service. To be sure, human rights activist or not, his ideas were
not welcome by the vast majority of Egyptians.
His criticism of the
army was mocked by many, but it was also the case that after his arrest, not
only did many Egyptians – including activists – fail to demand his release but
actually supported the decision of the military council on grounds that Nabil
was a traitor and a Zionist because of his support for Israel. Unlike other
activists arrested for a variety of reasons, Nabil’s plight did not make any
headline at the time and the case fell into complete oblivion in the mind of
average Egyptians. Arrested and put to trial just like Kafka’s Joseph K.,
Maikel Nabil knew – unlike K. – what he was being put to trial for and that he
army had wanted to make an example of him because of his sharp criticism, using
the always handy card of Israel that in the Middle East resounds beyond the
borders of reason. Whenever something goes wrong at home or something is found
to be rotten, it is always possible to blame Israel for something, deflect
attention and champion the Palestinian cause selectively, only in order to
further the regime’s own agendas. In the words of Nabil, written from prison, he
knew he was signing his own death sentence when he wrote his blog post and he
has courageously demonstrated that he has no intention to give in or offer
apologies to the military rulers.
Even though the
silence on his case was deafening, his words became more and more accurate as
the weeks of incarceration turned into months, and the military junta continued
unmolested to trample the human rights of the entire Egyptian nation. The list
of all the crimes committed by SCAF against Egypt are too long to be mentioned
in one article or in a dozen, but they include virginity tests performed on
women, over then thousand civilians put to military trials, almost monthly
massacres, constant clamping down of protests and the most absolute failure to
deliver justice to the hundreds of families that lost their sons and brothers
and fathers in the course of the revolution, at the hands of the military, then
under Mubarak’s orders. While Maikel Nabil and so many others remain in jail,
ousted president Mubarak´s trial keeps being delayed and his aides, including
those who murdered protesters, run free and were even allowed to run for
office.
His plight remained
unheard for several months until August when he began a hunger strike that
lasted over a hundred days, in order to demand his immediate and unconditional
release. At the time, even at the threat of his imminent death and the fact
that all his words had been corroborated against reality time and again, the
Egyptian public remained silent and so did the vast majority of the
international community. In Egypt, only a select number of activists – and I
say select not without irony, because what was select about them was their
absolute minority in Egypt – championed his release, in many cases, only in the
name of liberalism and freedom, while still stressing the reasons for which
they didn’t support Maikel’s cause. It became common amongst them to quote
Voltaire saying, “I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death
your right to say it”. What was interesting here is not only that they
disapproved of his ideas, but that they had confirmed many times over and over,
that his analysis of the future of revolutionary Egypt under the military junta
was completely accurate.
Slowly the
international community took an interest in his cause, especially after the
very prominent blogger and activist Alaa Abd El Fattah was also arrested on
similar charges and some human rights organizations in Europe and elsewhere
began to demand the release not only of Alaa, but also of Maikel and so many
others that to this day remain unknown outside Egypt, including another
blogger, Ayman Mansour, who was sent to prison for insulting Islam on Facebook.
For several months the possibility of his death as a cause of the extended
strike became very real and at that, he was refused hospitalization by the
military council and even once, was sent for psychiatric evaluation with the
sole intention to declare him insane and keep him confined in a mental hospital,
a well-known tactic from totalitarian regimes. To Maikel’s luck, a doctor at
the mental facility intervened with the support of her superiors and prevented
the military council to carry on with their plans. Nevertheless, nearly every
month he was expected to be put to trial again and given a final verdict, but
as in Kafka’s narrative, the verdict kept being delayed each time again and
again on the ground of some bureaucratic procedure.
After Maikel Nabil
decided to end his hunger strike in December and was transferred to another
prison, after being in solitary confinement, a momentum for his cause was
finally reached and articles began to appear all over the world, even by very
prominent writers and personalities, explaining to the world why it was so
important to release the Egyptian blogger. Nevertheless, in purview of so many
events happening in the Arab world now, including the never-ending crisis in
Syria that has reached over 5000 dead, the threat of war between Iran and
Israel, the humanitarian crisis in Yemen, no less than the complicated transitional
politics of Egypt that is everything but transitional, the case of Maikel Nabil
has been forgotten once again, even though he was the first political prisoner
since the revolution – an irony in itself – someone who has demonstrated not
only courage, but great determination and remarkable intellectual skills in his
analyses not only of Egypt but of the situation in the Middle East at large,
and who could contribute infinitely to the new Egypt, if that Egypt is going to
be built once.
Nabil wrote from
prison in December 2011: “It’s beautiful that there are many people who started
to speak out about me after long months of silence and ignoring, and it’s
beautiful that many people care to know about me… But I think that people
should care more for my thoughts than for my personality, because in the end I
am confined because of my thoughts, not because of my personality. My thoughts
are what I sacrifice for”. So many months after his arrest, a vast majority of
people keep conveniently ignoring what Nabil wrote and said, and have sheltered
themselves upon the cause of human rights in general, trying to escape from the
sharp criticism of the imprisoned blogger that very few in the course of the Egyptian
revolution have been willing to apply on themselves at all.
In the meantime,
human rights are still violated in Egypt on a daily basis and media constantly
censored, foreign journalists harassed, the tourism industry suffering from
record losses and in between, Marshall Tantawi, leader of the Supreme Council
of the Armed Forces and now officially ruler of the country, has announced that
celebrations will be held to commemorate the first anniversary of the Egyptian
revolution. One cannot help but wonder what is it exactly that which is going
to be celebrated when Maikel Nabil and many others remain in prison for nothing
but their thoughts and criminals are still at large.
Berwokitz was right;
the law is nothing in itself today. In Egypt, however, it is even less than
that, it is an instrument of tyranny whose only aim is not to deliver justice
but to strip millions of people from their basic rights and to starve them out
not only physically, but also emotionally and spiritually, only in order to
prevent them from demanding what is theirs: The possibility to make decisions
about their own destinies.
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