It seems so long since we hung out in Tahrir Square, where my Egyptian colleagues had concocted an archaic studio out of spotlights, stools and a few cameras, overlooking history in the making. They captured the highs and lows of the revolution from the fall of President Hosni Mubarak, to the rise of the Muslim Brotherhood and the election of President Mohamed Morsi, followed by their ouster by the military. The work of these Al Jazeera journalists was to be a first draft — or should I say, a rough cut — of the history of modern Egypt.
With little sleep and less comfort, they contended with conditions that could not have been more miserable; yet they couldn’t have been happier. It was a reporter’s dream come true.
Like Cairo’s traffic, the revolution was chaotic and unruly, but it was making steady progress. Then, last July 3, it came to an abrupt halt. The military took over. Revolutionary Egypt was forced into reverse; any obstacle in its way was crushed, including the most fragile of its victories, freedom of expression.
In a leaked video aired by Al Jazeera, the general in charge, Abdul-Fattah el-Sisi, took a keen interest in journalism. “It takes a long time before you’re able to affect and control the media,” he said. “We are working on this and we are achieving more positive results, but we have yet to achieve what we want.”
But what dictatorship wants to wait? The military shut down unfriendly news outlets and started a campaign of intimidating journalists, both Egyptian and foreign. The repression was so random that, according to The Economist, even a film crew that was working for a Washington public relations firm hired to improve the government’s image was arrested.
Especially noxious treatment has been reserved for Al Jazeera. Egypt’s new rulers keep a close eye on the network because its channels are widely watched across Egypt and the rest of the world. They also claim that Al Jazeera, which is owned by the state of Qatar, is a mouthpiece for the outlawed Muslim Brotherhood. This is a false characterization the network’s journalists do not accept.
The Egyptian authorities have rounded up several of our colleagues at Al Jazeera Arabic, our Middle East service, confiscated their cameras and shut down our bureau. While all except one were released, arrest warrants were also issued for 20 people who, the government says, either currently work for Al Jazeera or have done so in the past, among them several foreigners.
They include three journalists from Al Jazeera English, the English-language network that also includes Al Jazeera America, who were arrested in December: Peter Greste, Mohamed Fahmy and Baher Mohamed. They have now been charged with broadcasting false reports of unrest with the intention of helping the Muslim Brotherhood destabilize Egypt. This is merely propaganda to cover up censorship and repression. Mr. Greste, our award-winning foreign correspondent, wrote from his cold cell: “How do you accurately and fairly report on Egypt’s ongoing political struggle without talking to everyone involved?”
It’s telling that in the same month as their arrests, three secular leaders of the 2011 revolution, including Ahmed Maher of the April 6 movement, were sentenced to three years in prison for involvement in an unauthorized protest. There was a pro-government rally on the same day that also was not authorized; it did not prompt any arrests.
In a country that is terribly polarized and dangerously tense, one Egyptian’s hard news is another’s false report. The government and its lackeys portray journalists and critics as spies and traitors, using baseless innuendo: They refer to our unfairly detained colleagues as the “Marriott Cell,” for the hotel in which they were arrested.
Attacks on journalists in an attempt to suppress the freedom of the press are not unique to Egypt. According to the Committee to Protect Journalists, 211 reporters were in prison worldwide in 2013, and 232 in 2012, the two worst years on record. The International Federation of Journalists reported that 105 media workers were killed in 2013; that’s two every week. While extremist groups have been behind a good number of these injustices, in certain cases, governments — some allied with the United States — are culpable.
Egypt is a case in point. Designated a “major non-NATO ally,” it is the second-largest recipient of American aid, economic and military combined. Since its 1979 peace treaty with Israel, Egypt has received $66 billion in cash and goods from the United States, including heavy-duty hardware like 1,000 tanks and 221 fighter jets.
It’s puzzling, therefore, to hear America’s leverage with Egyptian leaders being minimized where human rights and freedom of expression are concerned. Over 500 Egyptian officers benefit from the American military education system annually, including the country’s chief of staff and seemingly its prospective president, General Sisi.
The White House has expressed its deep concern, and the State Department called the detaining of my colleagues “egregious,” but in reality, Washington has been sending mixed messages to Egypt’s military-backed government. The Obama administration did announce it would withhold military equipment and $250 million in cash until Egypt’s military-backed government made progress on democracy and human rights. But then Congress passed a spending bill that would restore more than $1.5 billion in military and economic aid — in effect, flouting the law that prohibits doling out foreign aid to regimes that overthrow democratically elected governments.
Less than five years ago, President Obama told Egyptians: “We will welcome all elected, peaceful governments — provided they govern with respect for all their people.” Obviously, Egypt’s military-backed government has failed on all three standards; it must be held to account.
We want our colleagues freed; we want Egypt free. No country can be free when journalists linger in its prisons.
Marwan Bishara is senior political analyst at Al Jazeera and the author of The Invisible Arab: The Promise and Peril of the Arab Revolutions.