Mar 12, 2015

Saving Brother Ibrahim

Gareth Gregan speaks to Somaia Halawa, sister to the Dublin teenager currently facing trial and potentially the death penalty, in Egypt...

 

It’s the last Friday before Reading Week and I’m standing on the Arts Block ramp awaiting Somaia Halawa, the sister of Irish-Egyptian “prisoner of conscience” Ibrahim Halawa. The Dublin teenager was imprisoned in an Egyptian jail at the age of 17 after a pro-democracy protest he attended with his three sisters turned violent, following a military coup against president Mohamed Morsi. He has been in prison for two years and could face the death penalty upon trial.

In the distance I can see her approach, identifiable by her Amnesty-yellow “Free Ibrahim” badge. After we exchange pleasantries we make our way to a quiet corner of the fourth-floor of the Arts Block to discuss how she and her brother became embroiled in one of Ireland’s most serious, yet under-reported, human rights cases in recent time.

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Somaia begins by telling me about her family’s background and how they gradually all came to live in Ireland from Egypt.“ My father has been here for almost 20 years and the rest of us came here when we were very small; my mother, sisters and half of my family. Then Ibrahim was born here in Ireland and when I graduated from university in Egypt, I came over here too”.

While language difficulties prevented Somaia from making the move until she was 22, Ibrahim was born here and attended the Holy Rosary School in Firhouse and Rockmount Secondary School before moving to the Institute of Education on Leeson Street to sit the Leaving Certificate.

“His dream was to go to either Trinity or UCD…he could have been here amongst us.”

“His dream was to go to either Trinity or UCD” Somaia recalls and we both acknowledge that in another reality “he could have been here amongst us”. It’s a strange juxtaposition as our conversation is interrupted intermittently by students of a similar age to Ibrahim who are finishing classes for mid-term; stressing about upcoming exams, essay deadlines and how to make the most of their week off, oblivious to the fact that in another reality they could have been joined by Ibrahim.

That  Summer however, as Ibrahim waited for his Leaving Certificate results, he took a family holiday with his sisters that would quickly take a dramatic turn.

Egypt was just recovering from the ousting of Hosni Mubaraq during their Arab Spring, events Somaia said filled her with hope for her native country.

“I felt like it was something people had looked for for 60 years. It wasn’t just Mubarak, it was before Mubarak too…for people to go out and protest, to raise their voice, shout and say that we don’t want this…this is a miracle”,  and she was also realistic with the aims she had for the then new president Morsi, “He was the first elected president ever. Whether he was the right person or not was not the issue, give him time to prove himself. We had that four years to monitor that kinda thing. If he’s good he’s welcome to continue, if he’s not good we [could] go against him”. Personally, Somaia saw him as “the right person for Egypt” but she admits, “Whether he was Muslim or Christian I would support it.”

Meanwhile, Ibrahim’s trip began quite enjoyably, Somaia recalls. “He went to loads of places he didn’t go before, visiting the pyramids…and spending a week in Alexandria, he had just finished the Leaving Cert and this was his break”.

However, during their time there, the situation in Egypt began to deteriorate when a military coup to oust the democratically elected Morsi was lead by army chief General Abdel Fattah el-Sisi.

“ It was a peaceful protest that turned into more than 12 hours of killing”.”

“So thats when we felt, that’s it. We can’t say nothing. I’ve lived in Egypt for seven years and I knew definitely that if this coup took over again, human rights were not going to exist anymore in Egypt. Because once the military take over that’s it. Prosecuting protesters, executions and killings resume. What human could accept it. We can’t just pretend that nothing’s happened and my voice, just all of a sudden, does not mean anything. We were defending our freedom, our right to vote. I didn’t want someone to steal my voice.”

On the first of July, the day Morsi was ousted, their convictions took Ibrahim and his two siblings to protest with others at Rabaa square, which one month later would become known throughout the world for the resulting Rabaa Massacre. According to monitoring-body Human Rights Watch, a minimum of 817 people (but most estimates say, at least 1,000) were killed on August 14 as Egyptian security forces raided protesters at Rabaa al-Adawiya Square. Her descriptions of the day are vivid.

“It was a peaceful protest that turned into more than 12 hours of killing”. The soldiers laid  siege to the camps where protesters were situated in the square. Somaia explains “The soldiers surrounded the square. People on top of the building were shooting randomly into the crowd. People were burned, just shot in the head and then they burned them. We couldn’t defend ourselves. My sister Fatima got hit with rubber bullets. They attacked people when they were praying and even little babies were killed.The most amount of people that died, were from our (the protesters) side. They were killing people everywhere…People were just falling like rain. Any minute we could have been killed. We did in the end manage to escape.  At the end of the day, 2000 were killed and only 20/30 people were left. They said those who were left could be let go. We had to put our hands up and leave. Some people couldn’t even go back for the bodies for their family.”
“I didn’t think they would dare do something again after Rabaa. I just felt my brother or sister could have been killed. I can’t stay silent.’

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They were killing people everywhere…People were just falling like rain.”

Their experience of this extreme violence on peaceful protesters compelled the Halawas to take to the streets again two days later. “It was the 16th of August and there was another peaceful protest in response to Rabaa. We were trying to reach Ramses Square but we were not familiar with it. By the time we reached the protests there were thugs (people paid to act as the law enforcers). The armies were behind them. This was so that if there were deaths the thugs would be blamed, not the police. We just wanted to reach Ramses square and finally we did. But when we got there, it was the same as Rabaa. 200 people were killed that day. By the time we decided to go home, and tried to leave we were again surrounded by tanks. For ten or twenty minutes everything was quiet but then they started to attack.  They were killing randomly. Tear gas was all over the place, it was everywhere.

In order to escape the violence the Halawas, alongside other protestors, sought refuge in the adjacent Mosque as it was the “only place we were safe”.  Somaia describes the ensuing standoff that lasted sixteen hours.

“There were dead and seriously injured people. We tried to help them, give them water and bandages while we waited. We invited police to help us, to see we had no weapons as we were accused. We were surrounded from 7pm on the 16th until they attacked the mosque at 12 o’clock the next day.”

“It was terrifying. First they threw tear gas within the mosque. With tear gas you feel as if you are going to die, you start choking. My sister and I fainted and got separated. When I woke up the Mosque was empty. There had been 600 people. Now there were only 30. There were police officers telling me to put my hands up and sit on my knees.”

While Somaia waited tensely in the Mosque she was one of the few to witness the corruption of Morsi’s government in action. “In that time I saw the soldiers coming in with bagfuls of guns and planting them around the Mosque. Then the Egyptian media were sent in to take photos. We, the protesters, were painted as the aggressor.”

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The Halawas were arrested and taken to a makeshift prison in an old military camp where the protesters were being held. There she was reunited with her sister and Ibrahim. “They said I wasn’t allowed to talk to him, they said they’d kill me but I said i don’t care, I want to talk to my brother.” Ibrahim had been shot in the hand and was bleeding profusely with little more than a piece of material to stem the flow.

That night the Halawas were placed in cramped cells with little resources. “160 I think were put in a cell that wouldn’t fit 30 people. As I said, it’s a military camp. And it was actually a grave for me. I felt that it was a grave for me, that they were trying to bury me alive. “

They were kept in this cell for four days before being charged, where they underwent gruelling conditions.“Men actually had to take turns to sit down cause there wasn’t enough space. There was no toilets so they all had to close their eyes if they wanted to go to the toilet. There were rats and all kinds of insects. Then, when they reached this time they started screaming and they said “either you kill us or you take us from that room. This is  inhumane.”

After the four days they were separated from Ibrahim in the military court. We were given 15 charges for “killing protesters, being part of a terrorist organization [and] attacking a police station” something Somaia defends as there not being ‘even one [bit of] evidence”.  “It was like a copy and paste conviction for all of the protestors. These charges are still given to anyone who protests today.” The sisters were  finally moved to an all-female prison where Somaia and her two sisters would spend three months.

When I ask her how she coped during this period Somaia explains “We didn’t think we’d be there for so long. We knew we were innocent so we tried to be quiet, to say nothing. We had to cope.”

“Even though we were released that day, I still feel like my soul is with my brother in Egypt.”

At this point they had been separated from Ibrahim and would only get to see him at their hearings that were always without a lawyer and continuously delayed.”That was the best thing about the trials, that we could see Ibrahim”. They were brought to trial every 45 days, and finally after three months, they were brought to court for the first time and finally put before a judge who released them on bail. “He said I ‘hope you learned your lesson in those three months.’ I was shocked. It was a joke”.

The day they were finally released, however, Somaia felt little joy. The sisters were forced to flee the country to avoid re-arrest, leaving Ibrahim behind, still imprisoned without proper trial. Somaia reflects tearfully “the most upsetting thing was, Ibrahim was not with us. Even though we were released on that day, I still don’t feel like I’ve been released. I still feel like my soul is with my brother in Egypt”.

That was nearly two years ago, or as Somaia notes, “It’s been over 600 days”.

“I have not seen him since” Somaia explains mournfully, “ I can’t visit because if I return to Egypt I’ll be arrested. If he gets sentenced to death, I won’t get to see him either. But my sister and mum alternate and see him every week and bring him food.”

What does Somaia know of her brother’s condition?

“He was tortured from the beginning, the counsellor saw the marks on his back. In the court at one point they attacked Ibrahim with a metal chain and electric sticks. A report from counsellor allowed him to be moved to a better prison.

“The condition in the prison is better now, but they are still controlling him. Maybe they’re not torturing him but mentally they are killing him.”

“He’s losing his memory of everything: his house, his friends and his family. His reality is now in prison. 600 days, it’s such a long, long time. People don’t think [about] staying in your room for one week, you’d go crazy. Your own room, you’re still surrounded with your own family. For Ibrahim this is a totally different environment, where you can be attacked at any time, killed at any time. You don’t know how your life is going to end basically”.

It’s a natural curiosity to enquire about the possibility of sentencing for Ibrahim, something she claims she is “not looking forward to” with their lawyer saying that “Ibrahim can be sentenced from 6 months to [the] death penalty”. I push to find out which side of this scale she believes Ibrahim will land and she is not optimistic saying that she “fear[s] that they’re not going to give anything easy to Ibrahim…Why release us but keep Ibrahim? We were always dealt with together, brought to the hearings together. I think it’s more that they want to break our heart even more.’ She goes on “If he was sentenced I would lose my life.”

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In fact, two weeks later when we meet to take Somaia’s photo she looks visibly upset, telling us she has just collected her sister from airport that morning. The latest report from Egypt she said is that Ibrahim was ‘losing hope’.

This was partly due to the release of of Ibrahim’s cell mates, Australian journalist Peter Greste and Canadian journalist Mohamed Fahmy. Greste said of Ibrahim that he was a  “real character” of “remarkable mental strength” and that during their four months sharing a cell that he had “brought a real energy to the cell and a real sense of humour”.

However, since his two cellmates left, Somaia reports that he has become extremely depressed. “Seeing his friend Greste leave it was a shock for him. He felt safer when other citizens were still in prison with him but when they got released he was asking why he was not out, why was the government not doing more for him. He became extremely depressed.”

I ask Somaia more about the Irish government’s response. The Minister for Justice has been pushing for a fair trial for Ibrahim but is this enough to save Ibrahim?

“To be honest with you I don’t have an answer. At one stage I believed they were going to help but since his first trial which was postponed and he didn’t get a lawyer or judge, our shock began. Ibrahim has had five trials postponed for no reason, keeping him in prison for 600 days. How can the Irish government ask for a fair trial? It’s never going to happen. If he faces trial he could face from 6 months to death. It depends on the judge, not the law. And there’s no evidence against him. Amnesty international investigated and found him innocent. We shouldn’t be asking for a fair trial from an unjust country. ”

Somaia thinks a fair trial request is doing little to help Ibrahim. “I think the government should step in before that to stop Ibrahim being faced with a possible death sentence. If the government waits for him to be sentenced he’ll either get an unfair trial or a further postponement. We just want Ibrahim out.”

Rather she wants more immediate action.

“They have to ask for immediate release because a just trial does not exist in Egypt, the system is corrupted. The Irish government have to give the Egyptian government a deadline for them, same as the Canadian, Turkish and Australian government did for their citizens. Even Ibrahim’s friends with similar convictions were given a presidential pardon (on their government’s request for immediate release)  in the last few days. We hoped Ibrahim would be one of them but he wasn’t.”

“You talk about freedom in Ireland so much. What about Ibrahim?”

The Halawas must now wait for the next trial date, (his fifth) on the 29th of March. When I ask Somaia what she thinks of the Irish government’s inaction as the deadline looms she responds “I just think they don’t want to fight the Egyptian government. But I’m not asking about a fight, I’m asking them to defend human rights, practise what you preach. You talk about freedom in Ireland so much. What about Ibrahim?”

“ You talk about freedom in Ireland so much. What about Ibrahim?”

Another reason for the inaction of the government is a wider apathy in Irish society toward the case. Why? Because they don’t see him as an Irish citizen.

Ibrahim himself feels this way, writing in an open letter ‘It has never crossed to me in my life that… the Irish government would not work hard because I am not white or with me not having an Irish name or even because (of) my religion.’

Somaia admits she worries this is the case sometimes too. “I worry people think ‘you’re not Irish because of your colour’. But it shouldn’t matter if he’s Irish or not, he’s human. I don’t like to say, I’m muslim, I’m egyptian, I’m Irish. I’m a human and I deserve my human rights.”

We take Somaia’s photo where she clutches Ibrahim’s photo, a picture of him leaning against a wall in a field, an adidas hoodie and an unshaven smile. He looks like a normal happy-go-lucky teenager, completely unaware of what the future held for him. Somaia gets ready to leave. She is meeting her sister and planning further campaigns for the following week as the lead up to Ibrahim’s case at the end of the month could decide his fate once and for all. We leave Somaia at Front Gate and as I wander back under Trinity’s Front Arch I wonder will Ibrahim ever do the same.

For those interested in aiding the campaign to have Ibrahim released, you can see the latest information on their Twitter – @FreeIbrahim95

Photos by Tomasz Szykulski.

Words by @garethgregan

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