In this Saturday, Feb. 4, 2012 photo anti-government protesters carry the coffin of a slain proteste in Idlib, north Syria (Credit: AP)
BEIRUT, Lebanon — Abu Yaman used to work at the oil refinery in Homs, where production helped Syria maintain cheap subsidized heating oil and fuel, as well as free health care and 24-hour electricity.
Today, Abu Yaman’s refinery has become a military base, its main pipelines destroyed, state hospitals stormed by secret police, electricity cut and makeshift home clinics overwhelmed with casualties as Homs endures an onslaught of rockets and mortars in the regime’s worst massacre of civilians since the uprising began 11 months ago.
With rights group Avaaz reporting at least 258 people killed — including 72 children and 42 women — in a single night of shelling just hours before Russia and China vetoed a United Nations Security Council resolution condemning the government of President Bashar al-Assad, analysts warn the onslaught in Syria marks a new chapter in which further bloodshed appears inevitable.
In shelling by tanks, artillery and what several sources inside Homs said were multiple rocket launchers, Syrian security forces have killed at least 350 people since late Friday, prompting the U.S. to close its embassy in Damascus and withdraw its ambassador and remaining staff.
“Its own supporters believe the regime has shown too much restraint and they have been increasingly vocal in calling for a crackdown,” Peter Harling, the Damascus-based Syria Project Director at the International Crisis Group, told GlobalPost.
“The situation in Syria is now entering a phase of extreme violence. The regime has not until now made use of all the fire power at its disposal. Now that Russia torpedoed the one political mechanism on the table, the armed struggle will take greater importance.”
An activist from Khaldiyye, the first opposition-held neighborhood of Homs to be targeted in the onslaught that began Friday around 10 p.m., gave a graphic account of an almost apocalyptic night of terror in the city that is already the hardest hit by the government crackdown.
“We are used to shelling so when it started we thought it would only last a few minutes, so everyone stayed indoors,” said Waleed Fares. “But then we heard a terrible, loud sound.”
The sound was from a local apartment block, home to 36 flats, Fares said, collapsing after being hit repeatedly by rockets and shells.
Rushing outside to help recover the injured and dead, Fares said the sound of mosques calling out “God is great” mixed with the explosion of shells and the cries of those in pain.
“There were children crying, women screaming, standing in their nightclothes because they had not had time to dress,” Fares said.
“We took the bodies and the injured to a nearby park. I counted around 40 bodies from the building collapse. The injuries were appalling: People missing limbs; people crushed so badly you couldn’t recognize them; people pierced by metal.”
Even in the park, terrified residents said they were not safe. “Three bombs fell on the park and killed around 30 people,” Fares said, one of them his friend, Omar Zarour, who was also trying to rescue trapped neighbors.
Omar Shakir, an activist in Bab Amr, another Sunni-majority neighborhood in Homs, said the shelling was like, “random machine gun fire, only much, much heavier.”
“The bombs fell like rain,” said Shakir, whose best friend, 23-year-old Madher Tayyara, a student turned volunteer medic died on Friday at home from shrapnel in his chest and head. “You didn’t know where they would fall. You can only pray.”
Several hospitals treating the dead and dying were raided by security forces, according to reporting from activists in Homs gathered by Avaaz, which described the humanitarian situation inside the city as appalling.
Small field hospitals set up to treat protesters were suddenly overwhelmed with hundreds of injured, according to activists. With security forces laying siege to neighborhoods and preventing medical supplies from reaching the area, activists feared many of the up to 1,000 people injured would die because there was no way to treat them.
One of the hospitals targeted was the Hikmat in Homs’ Inshaat neighborhood, where a video uploaded to YouTube yesterday appeared to show a doctor walking through a hospital whose roof was leaking and and bloodstains on the floor.
“Fifth of February, the Hikmat hospital,” says the voice on the video. “The surgery room was hit by shells. Here is one injured person,” he says, lifting covers to reveal a man unconscious from anesthetic, apparently left mid operation.
According to the Syrian Observatory for Human Rights (SOHR), medical staff and patients were gunned down when two field hospitals were targeted by Syrian forces Monday in Bab Amr, leaving three patients killed and a doctor needing an amputation.
“The hospitals were specifically targeted,” SOHR spokesman, Sami Ibrahim, told GlobalPost from close by Bab Amr.
“It’s a disastrous situation. People are losing their minds. When the bombing ceases we can hear them crying out for help.”
Interviewed by a GlobalPost reporter in Damascus on the day he fled with his family from Homs, Abu Yaman said his neighborhood of Inshaat had come under heavy fire, with no phone or mobile coverage for 11 days and no electricity and water for a week.
“We cannot walk in the streets so we made holes in the walls between each flat to reach a small shop at the end of the block open every day for just two hours,” he said.
“We are 10 families in the building and we all moved to the basement flat to use it like a shelter: 10 families living in a 150 square meter space underground.”
Abu Yaman said residents had begun to burn tables, chairs and other household wood to try and stay warm through winter nights without heating oil or electricity and that corpses were being buried in private gardens because graveyards were either full or impossible to access.
“My two children haven’t slept well for months,” he said. “My wife was pregnant but she lost the baby after she was shocked by a bomb hitting our building. No one in the world can imagine what Assad’s forces are doing in Homs since Friday.”
The Assad regime denied the assault on Homs, with state-run Syria TV claiming corpses shown in video footage — said by activists to be victims of the bombardment — had been people kidnapped and killed by “terrorist armed groups.”
The assault with heavy weapons initially appeared to have been triggered by the capture of more than a dozen soldiers by members of the rebel Free Syrian Army (FSA), which attacked a checkpoint and an airbase on Friday.
In a video released on YouTube and broadcast by Arab satellite channels, a man identifying himself as from the Farouq Battalion of the FSA is heard taunting the captured soldiers.
“How did we capture you and you have everything, arms and ammunition, at this checkpoint?” he asks. “If we had captured women it would have been more difficult. It did not even take us 10 minutes to capture you.”
The taunting takes a sectarian turn when each man is forced to admit he is from the minority Allawite sect, an offshoot of Shiite Islam from which the Assad family and much of the regime and loyalist security forces are drawn. Around three quarters of Syria’s population, and the overwhelming majority of the opposition, including the FSA, are Sunni Muslims.
A spokesman for the Free Syrian Army told GlobalPost the armed rebels had lost 27 soldiers in four days of fighting with Assad’s troops up to Friday, saying the regime had planned an assault on Homs before the capture and video of its soldiers.
“The regime is a killing machine. Four days ago the regime said it would finish the revolution but the revolution will not end,” said the FSA commander, known as Abu Ali. “We capture soldiers to show how weak the regime is. Their soldiers fight for one person, Bashar al-Assad. We fight for a cause: the nation.”
In interviews with half a dozen different residents and activists in Homs since Friday, it appeared the majority of Assad’s forces remain, for now, deployed around restive neighbourhoods, while heavy artillery and rockets pound the city from afar.
The fear of many though, is that a full scale ground assault is imminent, with dark memories of the massacre of up to 30,000 civilians in Hama after that nearby Sunni-majority city rose up three decades ago to challenge Assad’s father, Hafez.
“The Assad regime wants to finish us,” Abu Yaman said. “We fear the president wants to make Homs another Hama. We are living in a very hard situation and we need help from the world.”
A Syrian forces tank moves along a road during clashes with the Syrian army defectors, in the Rastan area in Homs province, central Syria, on Monday Jan. 30, 2012. (Credit: AP)
SAQBA, Syria — When a team of foreign journalists entered the eastern Damascus suburb of Saqba last Friday, they were greeted by a sight that did not bode well for the Syrian regime.
Rebel fighters from the so-called Free Syrian Army were protecting about 5,000 demonstrators calling for the fall of President Bashar al-Assad. One was hoisted onto the shoulders of the protesters. Victory, it seemed, was approaching. Several other neighborhoods nearby saw rebels set up checkpoints and essentially take control.
Four days later, however, GlobalPost returned to the area and encountered a very different scene.
The Syrian army had returned.
Turning off the Damascus highway east of the city, we were stopped by several soldiers manning a checkpoint of sorts. Our driver said we were foreign journalists. He looked in and waved us on. The same incident happened twice more. The soldiers had a yellow plastic ribbon tied to their jackets that clearly indicated they were on the side of the regime.
There was little sign of life other than a line of people waiting for bread outside a bakery. Parked next to them were an ambulance, a military jeep and an armored vehicle. Two men stared with open mouths as a truck laden with gas canisters entered the area, surprised they would now finally have gas with which to cook.
We continued on in search of Municipal square, where the anti-regime protesters had gathered with such hope only days before.
When we arrived, we found a scene of devastation. Whole sides of homes had caved in, exposing the everyday household items inside. An electricity pole was smashed in half close to the ground, splinters standing vertical high into the air. Only a tank shell could have caused such damage. Local men held up large shell casings for us to see.
“They arrived Saturday and blew us away. There were Hezbollah soldiers with them,” said one man, when asked about the nationality of the soldiers. He said he knew this because he recognized their accents.
We were taken to a mosque just off the square. A gaping hole had been blasted in the side of the mosque’s minaret. I asked if the rebels had been inside.
“There was no one there — if they [the rebels] were inside they would have been at the top,” said one man. The hole was about halfway down the minaret.
A man carrying a bag of fruit whistled to get my attention and gestured for me to follow him. I hesitated, more concerned with the crowds of men gathering around us. I warned them to disperse. Military vehicles were close by. Machine-gun fire crackled in the distance. It was cold. Several angry men asked if we were from Russia, one of a dwindling number of countries that still supports the Assad government.
The streets were almost empty. A carpet of glass, rubble and metal covered the wet concrete. Fear gripped me — the area was clearly under government control once more, and there may have been snipers looking out for any remnants of the rebels.
We walked briskly, one by one, down a side street and through narrow passages dividing houses. We came to a clearing and the man with us called to another now close by.
“Do you have the keys?” he asked the second man. He then opened a large metal door that appeared to me to be the entrance to a hospital. It was, in fact, a school, long closed down. In the corner were a half dozen pine trees. Under them was an uneven lump on the ground, covered in plastic. Another man joined us and began to peel back the plastic sheeting.
It was difficult to look at the disfigured, swollen faces. One body had its eyes missing. Another was blackened.
“They killed him as he was lighting a fire in his house. Then they threw him into it,” said one of our guides.
“There are six men here, they were all killed in the last few days,” said another.
“We are hiding them here so that we can bury them ourselves. If we go to a hospital [the security] will take them and we won’t even get a burial. They already took one body,” he added, anger deep in his voice.
There was no real smell — it was too cold. Their hands were bound, as is tradition with the dead here in order to avoid the effect of rigger mortis. Photos were taken and questions asked. There were several other sites where locals were holding their dead relatives in a state of limbo, they said.
“People are burying their dead under their houses — there is nowhere else to take them,” said one man. After about 10 minutes we left the communal grave. If the army or security found us we were likely to be shot too. We were now witnesses to the regime’s death squads.
We headed back in the direction of the square and our waiting car. On the way we walked over glass and mangled metal, shops without window fronts, televisions exposed to the rain. There were no people in these destroyed homes.
We jumped back into the car where our driver was waiting for us.
“Who will pay for all of this?” asked a young man passing by in his car, pointing at the destroyed buildings around us. “We will pay. I hate the Free Army — they brought death and destruction to our homes.”
“When the army comes and they see people on the streets with guns and shooting of course they will try to kill them. They think this is their job,” he added.
Through the square, a government convoy rolled by, made up of multi-purpose vehicles painted blue to give the impression they were police, as opposed to military. In a 32-seater bus sat dozens of soldiers, guns sitting on their laps. The young man crouched next to the car out of their view.
On the way out of the town, I spotted the green of the free Syria flag painted on a wall. We stopped at each checkpoint, and at one a soldier opened the glove compartment of the car. But he let us go. The soldier guarding the next checkpoint was Alawite, said our driver, able to tell from his accent. Alawite is a minority Shiite sect in Syria to which the ruling elites belong.
“Come over here and see what the fighters did here,” the Alawite soldier urged us. We declined, keen to get out of this fresh and bloody war zone. The bizarreness of returning to the center of Damascus, where life continued in apparent normalcy, was astounding.
The men I met in Saqba were not freedom fighters, and they were not political. But the death and violence brought on by Syria’s now civil conflict have tied them up in a struggle between life and death. For them to even be seen talking to journalists would in all likelihood lead them to a tortuous end. The other districts east of the capital, which were celebrated as new centers free from Assad last week, have also now fallen.
With the withdrawal of the Arab League monitors and most foreign journalists, Syrians are again on their own. Tanks and checkpoints have returned to several other towns around the capital. Locals fear the army is gearing up for more assaults, something it can now do uninterrupted and out of sight.
U.S. Secretary of State Clinton (Credit: Reuters)
Here’s a quick update on the Obama administration’s recent decision to sell arms to the regime in Bahrain, which has been accused of widespread human rights abuses in suppressing a protest movement in the Gulf nation.
Three senators and and 18 representatives — all Democrats — have signed a letter to Secretary of State Hillary Clinton condemning the deal (and remember, the administration still isn’t saying what equipment, exactly, it’s sending to Bahrain). Here’s the key section of the letter:
We recognize the limited nature of the sales, and we acknowledge that the Bahraini government has taken some positive steps with respect to human rights in recent months. However, it has not done enough to justify the sale of any military items or services to Bahrain. Moreover, if the Administration wishes to reward the Bahraini government for any progress, there are other methods that do not involve strengthening the Bahraini military or security forces.
Tragically, even a brief survey of reports from reliable sources makes clear that the Bahraini government continues to perpetrate significant human rights violations.
The letter then enumerates some of those reported violations, things like the killing of at least 10 people in the past few months, the prosecution of doctors who treated protesters, and the barring of international human rights observers from entering the country.
It’s not clear Congress can actually do anything to stop the arms sale at this point, so the letter mostly serves to draw public attention to the issue. I’ve asked the State Department for comment and will update if I hear back.
Here’s the full letter:
Advertisements for parliamentary candidates hang from scaffolding in Cairo in October 2011 (Credit: Lauren E. Bohn/GlobalPost)
CAIRO – In the aftermath of a week of violent protests in Tahrir Square, Egyptians head to the polls Monday hoping to take a step closer to establishing a new democracy.
A protest movement in January may have led to the ouster of former president Hosni Mubarak, but most Egyptians are left wondering how much has actually changed. Were the heady days of street demonstrations truly a revolution or a popular uprising that has resulted in a military takeover?
Political reform has moved at a snail’s pace. Some of the most brutal hallmarks of Mubarak’s autocratic regime have returned, including arbitrary detention, military trials and torture.
And an already stagnating economy is deteriorating amid ongoing workers’ strikes and sporadic violence.
Many now blame the country’s ruling military leaders, the once revered Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF), which assumed power in the transition following Mubarak’s departure.
“We are all united with one hand against the military,” said Ahmed Gheith, a 22-year-old Muslim Brotherhood member who was at a recent protest in Cairo’s Tahrir Square. “Egyptians should be able to choose whomever they want to lead our country.”
For the most part, Egyptians are optimistic that the final stage of their revolution will take place at the ballot box. The hope is that these elections will be a departure from the Mubarak-era, when voting was often marred with violence, ballot box stuffing, and other fraudulent activities.
But at the first polls on November 28, they will encounter a new electoral process that observers have called convoluted, confusing and mismanaged.
Election Basics
About half of Egypt’s population of more than 80 million residents are eligible to vote in the upcoming elections.
Voter turnout is expected to be much higher than in any election during the Mubarak regime. Earlier this year, a record 40 percent of Egyptians over the age of 18 voted in a referendum on amendments to the nation’s current interim constitution.
There will be elections for both houses of Egyptian Parliament in 2011 and early next year — the People’s Assembly, or lower house parliament, and the Shura Council, or upper house.
Egypt’s next parliament will nominate a constituent assembly that will one day write the nation’s new constitution.
The People’s Assembly (PA) election will consist of three phases across Egypt’s 27 governorates, and will take nearly two months to complete.
The first round begins on Nov. 28, and will take place in Cairo, the Fayoum oasis, Alexandria, Damietta, Kafr El Sheikh, Port Said, Assiut, the Red Sea in Sinai, and Luxor.
The second phase is scheduled to take place on Dec. 14 in Giza, Beni Suef, Ismailia, Sharqia, Menoufiya, Suez, Beheira, Aswan, and Sohag.
On Jan. 3, the remaining governorates will vote – Qaloubia, Gharbia, Dakhliya, North and South Sinai, Marsa Matrouh, Qena, Minya, and the New Valley in Egypt’s Western Desert.
Each round of voting will take place over two days, according to new rules implemented by Egypt’s transitional government only this weekend.
Voting for the Shura Council will begin shortly after the three rounds of PA have been completed.
The Electoral Process
A total of 498 seats are up for grabs in the upcoming PA election.
How the seats will be chosen has changed substantially since the Mubarak era, and has been the subject of much debate and confusion among political parties since the departure of the former president this year.
In past elections, individual candidates were elected from their parliamentary districts.
This year will feature a mixed-system election, including proportional representation party lists as well as individual candidates. Two-thirds of the PA’s seats will be chosen by party list plurality. The remaining third will come from independent candidates in a so-called ‘first-past-the-post system.’
Political parties are required to field at least one woman. From the individual candidates, at least half of the PA will be filled by “farmers and workers,” a throwback to a 1950s-era quota law.
The complex election laws of 2011 were implemented by SCAF, based mostly on recommendations from Egypt’s civil society and political groups as a way of leveling the playing field by reducing the likelihood of a sweep by remnants of Mubarak’s disbanded National Democratic Party (NDP). Mubarak’s former ruling political party maintains a large grassroots movement that was left mostly intact following the uprising.
But the result is a confusing system that will require each voter to submit multiple ballots on election day, possibly with long waiting periods in between for runoffs, according to the Washington, D.C.-based International Foundation for Electoral Systems.
“These issues also pose great and unknown challenges to the legitimate and successful administration of the new election system,” stated the IFES in a briefing paper on November 1. “There is a significant need to educate voters and administrators about the new election system and limited available time to accomplish this important task.”
Who is running?
The days of one-party victories swept by Mubarak’s NDP are over.
This election, over 6,500 candidates are running from more than 45 political parties, many which were launched this year following the uprising. The entire political spectrum will be represented, from liberal seculars to Islamists to socialists.
The formidable parties include the Muslim Brotherhood’s Freedom and Justice Party, with its large grassroots base from years of charitable work in communities throughout the country.
Although the NDP has been dismantled, several remnants from Mubarak’s old party will be running as independents and as part of new parties.
A recent lawsuit attempted to directly bar the participation of former NDP members, one of the major goals of protesters in Tahrir Square.
Following the violent clashes in Cairo last week, SCAF issued a long-awaited “politcal corruption” law that bans anyone convicted of corruption from running for office.
The move, however, did not appease protesters. Most criticized the law for being too vague and coming too late.
Some members of Mubarak’s former party are still on the ballots for at least the first round of voting, according to reports.
Judge Ahmed Abdel Rahman, a member of Egypt’s Supreme Elections Commission, told GlobalPost that condemning members from the former ruling party would be unconstitutional.
“As a people that made a revolution, we should be able to differentiate between the good and the bad; who is a regime remnant and so,” said Abdel Rahman, “we are demanding freedom, we are choosing our representatives in the parliament, and we have the freedom to choose.”
Currently, most experts predict substantial victories for both the MB and the NDP.
Ziad Akl, a researcher at Al-Ahram Center for Political and Strategic Studies, a state-funded think tank, said that remnants of the NDP could win a large plurality in the upcoming election.
Egypt’s revolutionary activists have made little headway with voters in the rural north and south of the country, according to Akl.
“My biggest fear is that these elections would result in a parliament that is 30 or 40 percent NDP,” said Akl. “And that would not be a parliament reflective of revolution, yet it will be legitimate. Then we could have a real problem because you would have a state claiming legitimacy and a public claiming that this is not what we signed up for.”
Administering the election
When Egypt’s military rulers took power, they promised to hold “free and fair” elections within 6 months — one of the biggest demands of the protest movement in Tahrir Square.
But weeks before the once-delayed elections, several candidates have already come forward with evidence that Mubarak-era fraud is still present among some in the country. An “election market” of people who will rig votes, sell voting blocs, and even thugs-for-hire are all still present in Egypt, according to many observers.
Attempting to guarantee the legitimacy of the 2011 elections will be the judicial branch, one of the few institutions to maintain credibility among a majority of Egyptians.
Around 10,000 judges and other officials will be dispatched across the country to administer the vote.
Several local non-governmental organizations will also send members to polling stations to observe the vote. But many of these groups have criticized SCAF for limiting transparency in the voting process by denying them any real authority to report fraud.
Most foreign poll monitors have been barred from supervising the election. Shortly after taking power, SCAF denied all foreign observers except for one, citing the need to protect Egypt’s sovereignty.
“There is very bad management of this entire electoral process. It has been going on ever since the government released the legislation pertaining to how the elections would be run,” said Ghada Shahbandar, a former poll monitor and activist working at the Egyptian Organization for Human Rights.
The Expatriate Wildcard
Just over a month before the start of the PA elections, an Egyptian court ruled that its citizens living overseas should have the right to vote — a first for the country’s millions of expatriates, and a key demand of protesters in Tahrir.
But with so little time to prepare before the election, and with basic information about the methods of expat voting still undeclared, very few are confident that that the system will work.
The government does not maintain statistics on the number of Egyptians living abroad. Official figures place the number of expatriates at seven million, while some independent estimates are as high as 10 million.
“If Egyptians abroad are not given their chance to vote, it means that at least six percent of Egypt’s population is deprived from their basic political rights,” said Ahmed Ragheb, a lawyer and human rights activist.
Already, there have been numerous complaints about the electronic registration process for expatriates and the Egyptian government’s capacity to monitor and organize millions of potential votes overseas.
Even the government does not seem confident in the process. Just weeks before the historic court ruling, Judge Abdel Rahman told GlobalPost that it would be “impossible for Egyptians abroad to vote.”
He said the preparations would be too complicated and time consuming with such a short period before the elections.
Will the army ever leave power?
SCAF has already delayed the parliamentary elections once this year. Logistical preparations by both candidates and administrators only started earlier this month. With the shortened process, and signs pointing to a desired lack of transparency, many critics believe that Egypt’s military will be unwilling to transfer power to a civilian government.
On November 18, with less than ten days before the election, tens of thousands of Egyptians returned to the streets of Tahrir Square to criticize military rule in Egypt.
More than nine months after the unfinished revolution, various political elements — mostly led by Islamist groups like the Muslim Brotherhood — all raised “one hand” to say no to the once-vaunted army.
The protesters’ immediate concern was the so-called supra-constitutional document set forth by various political groups and SCAF, several months before the election. The document was meant to solidify certain principles “above” the constitution, in other words, certain inalienable rights that Egyptians would have regardless of which people from which parties come to power.
But the masses in Cairo’s city center were challenging a SCAF amendment to the supra-constitional document that would cement the army’s budgetary immunity into the future constitution, essentially bypassing oversight and accountability to the Egyptian people.
Loai Nagati was one of the protesters in Tahrir.
Nagati knows the perils of military rule better than most. The 22-year-old was one of more than 12,000 Egyptians who have been jailed and tried under secret military courts since the ouster of Mubarak. He said he was abused and tortured during the eight-day detention earlier this year.
“We want an end to military rule in Egypt, finally. In this election, hopefully we can show them that the country is refusing to give the army the ultimate power,” said Nagati.
(GlobalPost-Open Hands Initiative reporting fellows Ahmed Ateyya, Reem Abdellatif and Stephanie Rice contributed reporting to this story.)
(Credit: Ben Brody/GlobalPost)
CAIRO — On the streets of post-revolution Cairo, opinions are expressed freely and loudly. They come in the angry voices of protesters marching through traffic, and the graffiti scrawled across buildings and bridges. The days when criticism of the country’s leaders was confined to hushed whispers in smoke-filled cafes are gone.
But while many Cairenes on the street have broken free of the fear that silenced them before, journalists and analysts say fear — or at least a sense of caution — still pervades many of the newsrooms trying to document a chaotic city in transition.
Ziad Akl, an analyst with the government-financed think tank Al-Ahram Center for Political & Strategic Studies, said that although the country’s military rulers allow a slightly “higher ceiling” than ousted President Hosni Mubarak, media outlets and researchers like himself are still “very much bound and constrained by the state.”
“We’re still in the very same cage,” he said. “It’s a just bigger cage.”
Under the iron-fisted rule of the Mubarak regime, open criticism of the presidential institution was not tolerated. Today, scathing editorials targeting Mubarak’s loathed and now-dissolved National Democratic Party regularly appear in papers.
But media experts and local reporters say the aura of impenetrability that once surrounded the presidential institution has simply shifted to the country’s military rulers, who replaced Mubarak when he was forced out in February.
There are signs that the military intends to maintain that status quo.
For example, it recently expanded the country’s long-hated “emergency law” to include broad language under which news organizations could be prosecuted for “spreading false news.”
Days before security forces raided Al Jazeera’s Cairo affiliate, saying the station lacked a license and neighbors were complaining of noise, Minister of Information Osama Heikal publicly threatened to “take legal measures against satellite TV stations that jeopardize stability and security,” according to Reporters Without Borders.
The organization says many of the 12,000 civilians being tried in military courts as part of a post-uprising crackdown are journalists and bloggers.
And in March, Major General Ismail Mohammed Etman sent out a letter advising media outlets to consult with the military’s “moral affairs” or intelligence departments on any matters involving the military.
“These are the authorities specialized in reviewing such matters, and that is to ensure the safety and security of the homeland,” the letter read.
The Ministry of Information declined repeated interview requests from GlobalPost. Housed in a fortress-like building on the Nile surrounded by barbed wire and dozens of soldiers in armored vehicles, the ministry has been in a state of turmoil since the uprising and reluctant to talk publicly.
Youssef Sidhom, editor of the small Christian weekly Al-Watani, said he simply avoids all stories about the military to “keep out of harm’s way.”
“Everything military is considered highly sensitive, a matter of national security,” he said. “We don’t question the military. We don’t joke with the military.”
While there is disagreement among journalists on how far reporters can or should go in scrutinizing the military, there is a consensus that it is an area where one must tread lightly.
Fathy Abou Hatab, online managing editor for Al-Masry Al-Youm, a popular daily owned by a wealthy businessman, said the website often publishes pieces critical of the army’s new political role in Egyptian government. Stories on the military budget or inner workings of the institution, however, remain strictly off limits.
While the state largely controls printing presses and circulation, online media like Al-Masry Al-Youm’s website are generally subject to less scrutiny. It’s more difficult for the state to regulate the free flow of online content, and it’s considered less of a priority in a country where only about a quarter of Egypt’s 80 million residents has Internet access.
Still, there are limits to that freedom. For content deemed too sensitive for regular publication, Hatab said he sometimes features it online just long enough to be picked up by Egypt’s social network-savvy youth.
From her desk in the publication’s bright, modern newsroom, Aya Abdullah monitors the nonstop cycle of tweets and Facebook posts. The shy 21-year-old in a shockingly pink headscarf passes along news tips culled from the social networks to reporters who can then head out to cover a protest or other spot news.
Abdullah said the army is paying more attention to social media after the Tahrir Square uprisings but it is still largely an unrestricted space for sharing and gathering information in real time.
“When there are clashes on the street, somebody is tweeting it,” she said.
Revolutionary activist Gigi Ibrahim agreed that social networks like Twitter and Facebook, through which a video or photo can go viral in minutes, are too fluid for the military to effectively censor.
“Now you have a reporter everywhere, on every corner,” she said in an October panel discussion hosted by GlobalPost and the non-profit Open Hands Initiative. “Nothing can be hidden anymore.”
For Safwat El-Alem, a Cairo University political media professor, journalists and social-networking activists have gone too far in their criticism of the military.
“There is chaos in media after the revolution,” he said, sitting in the living room of his spacious home near the Giza pyramids. “There is an uncontrollable flow of information happening now during these sensitive times. Media and citizen journalists are not following the rules of society.”
Egypt’s media scene is complicated by the presence of a powerful state media apparatus used to distribute the official state version of events. The print publications and TV broadcasts have a wide reach and maintain massive influence over the Egyptian public.
Hala Fahmy is a 20-year veteran of state TV. These days, though, the well-known TV personality spends little time inside the government building where she built her career. More often, she can be found protesting from the street below, pushing for reforms to make government-owned news more accountable to the public.
Although still technically an employee of state TV, Fahmy said she has not been allowed to work since the Tahrir Square uprisings, during which she slammed the ministry in scathing on-air interviews with satellite channels.
“They think I’ll plot to overthrow the regime,” she joked on a recent afternoon as she stood outside the state TV building with a small group of protesters.
Dressed casually in jeans and a rainbow-colored top, Fahmy seemed unfazed by the dozens of soldiers and policemen keeping close watch on the demonstration. At one point, she turned to chastise an officer reading off the phrase on her sign to someone on the other end of a cell phone call.
The bright yellow sign said in Arabic: “Why are you confused? Why are you even thinking about it? A revolution ends military rule.”
Akl, the analyst for the state-funded Al-Ahram Center, said he believes government media, including the paper housed in the building where he works, is slowly losing influence to independent publications that strive to print the truth at a critical moment in Egypt’s history.
“I know a lot of people who actually changed their historical cultural habit of reading Al-Ahram every day, and people are starting to read Al-Masry Al-Youm” or other independent papers, he said.
“I for one never read Al-Ahram anymore,” Akl said at one point, laughing. “Yeah, I work for it but I don’t like it, I really don’t.”
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