Tony Shenouda (pseudonym)
For two months, Afaf, a 60-year-old interior designer, has been making the 100-kilometre journey to a prison west of Cairo, to visit her son Zain. She carries with her a bag of food and psychiatric drugs for him. But each time she has gone back home disappointed and shuts herself away in her room to weep alone. She is unable to see her son, because he has been put in the punishment wing and unable to receive visitors, food or medicine.
Afaf did not give up though. She did manage to speak with her son for a few seconds through a small, iron mesh covered window in the side of the prison van, which takes prisoners from jail to court to have their sentences renewed. He told her he was “being tortured.” She immediately went to the prison and requested an exceptional visit. After a delay, she was allowed to see him for just ten minutes.
When she visited, Zain rushed into a corner, trying to hide from the surveillance cameras, and gestured to her to come closer. His mother saw he was barefoot. Zain took his fingers from the holes in the iron grille, saying: “Look mum, they pulled out my fingernails.” Then he took off his jacket and turned round to show her what appeared to be marks of torture on his back. He rolled up his trousers to reveal to her burns that he says were caused by “the guards stubbing out their cigarettes on me.” Afaf was shocked by what she saw and Zain asked her to complain right away with the Public Prosecution.
The next morning Afaf filed a complaint with the chief public prosecutor, enclosing Zain’s medical record from government hospitals. She asked for the incident to be investigated and for her son to undergo forensic medical tests to confirm his injuries.
Zain is one of 1,569 Egyptians who have reported being subjected to torture, individually and collectively, in detention centres between 2017 and 2023, according to the “Archive of Oppression” report from the Nadeem Center for Rehabilitation of Victims of Violence and Torture. The centre says that these figures represent only the “tip of the iceberg”, and that much abuse goes on in secret, without being either detected or documented. It also points out that the data in its archive is limited to that derived from media outlets and social networking sites.
The author of this report interviewed five prisoners after their release and one still behind bars, all of whom had complained to the public prosecution and judiciary about alleged torture and sexual violence committed by police officers during interrogation. Prosecutors had merely made a note of their appeals in the record of the hearings, without actually launching an investigation.
ARIJ also obtained judicial documents confirming that the prosecuting authorities rely on the police themselves to gather information and evidence, and to bring witnesses to incidents of torture involving police officers themselves. These enquiries mostly end up being closed, because it is “too difficult to collect information.”
Reports from human rights organizations – both local and international – and from the UN Committee against Torture – indicate that the Attorney General was negligent in failing to open investigations and that this effectively gave immunity to the perpetrators of torture.
Under Article 52 of the Egyptian Constitution, torture in all its forms is a crime not subject to statute of limitation. The first step in determining if a crime has been committed is to conduct an investigation, which consists of collecting all evidence needed to establish the truth. The prosecution does not do this but relies on the police to do so.
The work of the police in collecting evidence, however, should be supervised and monitored by Public Prosecution officials, in accordance with Articles 189 and 199 of the Egyptian Constitution, and Articles 21, 23, and 199 of the Criminal Procedure Code.
A research study by Human Rights Watch – “Impunity for Perpetrators and Denial of Justice for Victims in Torture Cases” – points out that having the police involved in investigating torture cases is a conflict of interest, and will mitigate against any serious investigation of reports of torture of detainees.
Despite the need to amend the law to ensure accountability for torturers, attempts to make such amendments have been met with repression.
Shelving the complaint
In Zain’s case, the author of this report went to the prosecutor’s offices – together with a human rights lawyer – to find out what had happened to Zain’s complaint. We were given the file relating to the complaint under a judicial power of attorney issued for this purpose.
There were nine page in the file. Four were medical reports on Zain’s mental state, besides the complaint itself, the prosecution’s request to conduct an investigation, and finally the investigation document, which had been prepared by the criminal investigation section of the police department to which the prison belongs.
The Public Prosecution has the authority to refuse investigations if they are not supported by specific information or facts, or if they consist merely of statements. The prosecution does not have to automatically accept an investigation but has a role in supervising and critiquing the contents. It normally calls for additional investigative methods to supplement the investigation, says Abdel Raouf Mehdi, a professor of criminal law.
Although Articles 21, 24 and 29 of the Criminal Procedure Code require officers in criminal investigation units and their subordinates to record all the measures they have taken and the conclusions they were able to reach – such as taking statements from Zain’s cellmates, carrying out inspections, and entering these in the investigation report – A.A., the investigating officer and who drew up the report on the Zain incident, took three months to compile a report, which contained no information nor anything about any action he had taken. He put this down to his having to inspect the whole prison. When asked about what had happened to the complaint, it became clear that the prosecution had shelved it without giving any reason, and had not informed the complainant.
Mohamed Obaid, legal researcher on the constitutionality of legislation, comments: “The prosecution didn’t investigate the complaint. It just carried out a routine procedure. Article 63 of the Criminal Procedure Code allows it to shelve a complaint, which means closing an investigation without giving a reason.” There is also nothing in law obliging the prosecution to tell the complainant that his complaint has been shelved.
Article 42 of the Criminal Procedure Code gives prosecutors the authority to visit prisons and the right to contact any prisoner to hear his complaints. But Zain, who had visible injuries to his body, insists that no one called him to hear what he had to say.
Tarek, better known as “Mocha,” tells of how the prosecutor tried to intimidate him into not pressing ahead with a complaint against the head of investigations at the police department in Qasr al-Nil, in central Cairo. Mocha had accused him of assaulting him during the daily surveillance period at the police station.
George Ishaq, previously a member of the National Council for Human Rights, had come to Mocha’s aid by forwarding his complaint to the General Department of Human Rights in the Attorney General’s Office. The most recent prosecutor was summoned to hear the victim’s statement.
“Mocha” says that he was surprised when the prosecutor warned him against making a complaint against the policeman and called on him to drop it, in case the officer made up some case against him, that would put him back in prison. Mocha has already spent several years in jail on charges of demonstrating against civilians being tried in military courts.
Mocha says he rejected the warning from the prosecutor and pressed ahead with his complaint, after which he was put back in prison.
“I told the prosecutor that there were surveillance cameras installed throughout the police department when I was assaulted. I asked for the footage to be downloaded to show that the officer has assaulted me. But the prosecutor did nothing,” says Mocha.
Mocha spent seven years in prison. At one point he tried to commit suicide by taking a cocktail of drugs, in protest at being denied a radio charger and food prepared by his family and being verbally abused and put in the punishment wing. The prison administration transferred him to hospital, where he was saved, according to the Egyptian Commission for Rights and Freedoms.
Mocha insisted on continuing his protest against the conditions in prisons, including the torture he suffered: “I complained repeatedly to the prosecutor’s office from inside the prison, but they didn’t respond or pay any attention.”
Mocha is insistent that what happened to him has happened to many others, citing the case of Tarek Elsalakawy: “Tarek Elsalakawy, a lawyer at the Egyptian Coordination of Rights and Freedoms can no longer move or walk, as a result of the electric shocks and beatings he suffered during his enforced disappearance at the State Security headquarters.”
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At midnight on the first of November 2018, Elsalakawy’s house in Mansoura (about 126km north of Cairo) was stormed by the security forces, both regular and irregular (wearing civilian clothes). After his arrest, he was forcibly disappeared for 24 days. Throughout this time his lawyers were unable to find out why or where he had been detained, according to reports they sent to the Public Prosecutor, the Chief Prosecutor of Mansoura 2, and the head of the Mansoura Prosecutor’s Office.
According the 2017 “Archive of Oppression” report from the Nadeem Centre those suffering forced disappearance are usually tortured.
Before his arrest, Tarek Elsalakawy had been having chronic attacks of migraine, which caused him to lose his awareness and balance. He had been seeing a neurologist, and had been taking daily medication for some time and had been advised to avoid physical and nervous stress.
Judicial documents show that the Homeland Security officer charged with arresting Elsalakawy said he appeared normal at the time of his arrest. But when he appeared before the State Security prosecutor at 6pm on November 24th 2018, following his enforced disappearance, Elsalakawy was leaning on the shoulders of the security officers as a result of hemiplegia in his left hand and leg.
The Homeland Security officer claimed that – according to the documents – Elsalakawy was arrested at his home at 10pm on November 23rd 2018, the day before he was brought before the prosecution. The prosecution simply accepted this, without checking the date. Neither did it investigate claims by Elsalakawy and his lawyer that he had been tortured, resulting in his loss of movement, according to Elsalakawy.
Amnesty International reported that State Security prosecutors were negligent in failing to investigate complaints made by the family and lawyers of people arrested regarding alleged “alteration” by Homeland Security forces of the dates of arrest in 87 out of 117 cases – so that the date of arrest appeared to be the day immediately preceding the start of the prosecution’s investigation. Despite being alerted multiple times by families and lawyers, prosecutors failed to act to investigate these allegations.
Despite the failure of the Public Prosecutor and his aides to respond to previous reports, Elsalakawy’s defence continued to submit one report after another, in the hope that an investigation would reveal the identity of those Elsalakawy said had tortured him, and put them on trial.
A response came on March 18th 2019, when the prosecution summoned Elsalakawy’s defence lawyers. They called for their client to be summoned from detention, and asked to identify those who had tortured him. The prosecution then assigned the investigation unit of Mansoura 1st Police Station to gather information about the incident.
On the morning of 13 November 2019, the response came through from the head of the investigation unit at Mansoura 1st Police Station that his investigations had turned up no evidence that this incident had even taken place. On this basis, the prosecution decided to shelve the reports.
Elsalakawy remains behind bars, unable to move, and serving a 15-year prison sentence, based on a confession he says was extracted under torture.
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Articles 63 and 232 of Egypt’s Criminal Procedure Code prevent victims of torture from bringing claims directly before the criminal courts. This power is given solely to the public prosecutor, whose office usually shelves the majority of torture complaints without referring any defendant for trial, according to Mohamed Obaid, the legal researcher specialising in constitutional challenges to legislation.
This is what prompted the Geneva-based Arab Penal Reform Organization to turn to the civil courts, The organisation lists in its files 5,821 civil judgements for compensation for torture made by the courts between 1991 and 2017.
Mohamed Zarea, the organisation’s director, explains: “Once the final judgement is made, we write to the Ministry of Interior to get it to implement it and pay the compensation. But, because the budget that the ministry allocates for this is limited, survivors often have to wait three to eight years before getting the compensation due to them.”
By contrast, those convicted of torture suffer only lenient penalties. The Egyptian Commission for Rights and Freedoms lists only 63 police officers who have been convicted of murder, torture, and beatings resulting in death. And yet the appeal court acquitted 20 of them, while 23 others were pardoned by the president. And the rest were sentenced to prison terms of three to seven years.
Mohamed Obaid points to loopholes in Article 126 of the Egyptian Penal Code that he says dilute penalties for torturers. The strict conditions surrounding application of this article lead the prosecutor to bring charges for lesser offences, such as “cruel treatment”, which is punishable by a maximum of one year in prison, or a fine limited to 200 Egyptian pounds. In cases where the victim dies, the crime is modified to “assault leading to death,”, a crime that carries a penalty less than murder by torture.
The fact that the current law has proven unable to punish those guilty of constitutionally criminalised torture has led some civil society organisations to propose amending it.
Between 2014 and 2015, the United Group, founded by lawyer Negad El Borai, filed 163 reports dealing with 465 allegations of torture in detention centres. The failure of the public prosecution to take any action on these reports prompted the group to seek a judicial review to ensure investigations were carried out promptly.
In March 2015, the group announced that it was organising a workshop of experts to discuss a draft law against torture that would be in line with the constitution and meet international standards.
The draft law was sent to the Presidency of the Republic and to a number of relevant ministries, but there was no response from any of them. By contrast, the two judges who had helped write the draft bill were referred for investigation and faced six charges including “preparing a draft law against torture and pressurising the president to issue it” and “cooperating with an illegal organisation.” El Borai was also summoned to the North Giza Court to give a statement in connection with investigation into the two judges,
A room, in the headquarters of the National Security Agency in Abbasiya, was the scene of a traumatic experience for Shorouk Amjad. The 20-year-old recalls in detail the unforgettable moments when she was blindfolded and forced to sit on a chair, handcuffed from behind, while her body convulsed with one electric shock after another. These went on until she collapsed and she heard one of them say to another: “The girl’s going to die.”
Shorouk says she woke up to see an officer unbuttoning her trousers. She panicked and screamed as loud as she could: “Don’t touch me! I’ll say whatever you want!” More officers then rushed in and sat her down on a chair. From sheer intimidation Shorouk broke down and began to dictate a statement: “I work as a journalist and write political and economic reports for satellite channels opposed to the Egyptian regime.”
Shorouk says the interrogation went on for eight hours. All the time she was in pain and bleeding from her period. But when she asked to go to the bathroom, the officer laughed at her, said: “I’m ok with how you look,” and several times threatened to rape her and perform a virginity test.
The reports of torture we have heard extend beyond the physical to include sexual assault also. The Egyptian Front for Human Rights (EFHR), has documented 58 cases of sexual violence committed against women inside National Security facilities between 2015 and 2022. This abuse included touching of the genitals (approximately 33 per cent), threats of rape (approximately 24 per cent), forced nudity (approximately 19 per cent), and electric shocks to the genitals (approximately 12 per cent), and multiple forms of rape (12 per cent).
When Shorouk appeared before the prosecutor, her body bore visible marks of the assault she had suffered. Her mouth was left crooked from the beating they had given her, and her hands were bruised from the electric shocks. She gave a full account of what she had gone through.
The prosecutor refused to make a record of her testimony and referred her for forensic tests. He entered in the court proceedings only the following: “Shorouk was punched by the arresting officer.” At the same time, he told her that the investigation of the various assaults she had reported would take place later.
After about three months, another prosecutor summoned Shorouk and asked her if she wanted to undergo forensic tests. Shorouk says that she refused, because the signs of torture had faded with time.
Shorouk is resentful of the way the prosecutor handled her complaint: “He dealt with my request for an investigation like it was something routine, just something to write down. He wasn’t engaged at all with my story, and was just sarcastic,” she said.
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Searches of the genital cavities of detainees are routinely carried out whenever they enter prison or return from court hearings. But, based on the testimonies of three survivors and reports by human rights organisations, these have morphed into assaults of an explicitly sexual nature.
Shorouk says: “The female guard started feeling my body in an abnormal way – she grabbed my breast without any explanation, then went to my bikini area. She raised her head and asked: “You’re a virgin?” I whispered: “Yes, I am.” She replied sharply: “Well, we’ll find out.”
“She told me to turn around and bend over. And when I did, I felt her hand pressing on my neck, forcing me to bend over further until my head was level with my feet. All of a sudden she put her finger into my vagina. She wasn’t wearing a medical glove… it was horrendous, the pain was so bad I screamed and burst into tears.”
