He called me and introduced himself as an official at Shubral-Kheima bishopric, and asked to see me in connection with a certain problem. I gave him an appointment and, right on time,
How do we need the police in Egypt?
He called me and introduced himself as an official at Shubral-Kheima bishopric, and asked to see me in connection with a certain problem. I gave him an appointment and, right on time, there he was in my office. “You’re now over 400 episodes into your series of ‘Problems on Hold’,” he said. “You’ve written twice on the problem on account of which I am here today. The first time was some seven years ago, in July 2005; and the second was more than four years ago, in September 2008.” The problem concerns the bishopric’s community service centre at the village of Mit Nama in Qalyubiya, for which sake the bishopric went through a veritable ‘Via Dolorosa’ to obtain licence for a building to house it. For several years the security authorities in concern deliberately delayed the building permit merely because the projected building was owned by the Church—this appeared to be some offence that tarnished the centre and deprived it of the required licence. “When the revolution erupted in January 2011,” my visitor said, “We thought we’d be rid of such oppression, but we can now see we were overly optimistic.”
But I could see my visitor already had in hand the official licence for the said building; so where was the problem? “True,” he said, “This is the building licence we succeeded in obtaining after agonising efforts. It was issued, approved by the governor of Qalyubiya, in June 2011. We assumed we could then start building, but found out the licence included a condition that we should inform the administrative authority two weeks before embarking on any works.” I remarked that there should be no problem with that, and that 16 months had now passed since the licence was issued, so why did not the works begin? “It is the bitter truth,” he said, “that the tyranny and sway of the security authorities is just the same as it was before the Revolution. We were forbidden to start any construction work, under the pretext that ‘the security situation does not permit it’; the security authorities hinted they could not defend the building, seeing it belonged to the Church.”
It amazed me that the “administrative authority” cited in the licence did not indicate the building authority—which would naturally have had a role to play in regularly and periodically checking that the building works complied with the terms of the licence—but meant the security authorities. The sway of the security authorities, and the upper hand it held over every detail and every official no matter how high-ranking in the country during the pre-Revolution regime was among the most notorious aspects of the police State that Egypt was.
We all expected that, in the wake of the January 2011 Revolution and the dissolution of the mighty pre-Revolution security apparatus, a correction should have been made so that local government and the rule of law should have gained the upper hand. The security apparatus should have gone back to its original role of maintaining security, aborting crime, and catching outlaws. But it is now obvious that, at least outside Cairo and Alexandria, the security authorities still retain their appetite to control every aspect of life. It does not help that local government officials give in to that sway—all the better when the matter concerns church-owned buildings—in case of the Shubral-Kheima community centre, not one local administrator bothered to stand up to the security authority and defend the licence issued by the governor.
The predicament we are today discussing, after first introducing the problem seven years back, is a model of the acute problems Copts faced before the Revolution, continue to face after the Revolution and after Mursi became President. I again remind of it, hoping that any of the President’s aides—among whom are Copts—take note and report on it to President Mursi who insists he is a president for all Egyptians and that Egypt suffers of no sectarian problem.
Denying a citizen the right to report to the police
Terrorist crimes against unwitting civilians are today daily occurrences anyone may be victim of. This is a deplorable fact we cannot do much about and are obliged to bitterly swallow, but what is intolerable is that the police or security officials concerned should insist on turning a blind eye to the crime or treat complaints in an off-hand way.
As Mrs R.A.F waited in her car to pick up her son, she was approached by another car on which an Islamic slogan was plastered, and which carried a number of bearded men. Seeing that she was Christian—her hair was uncovered and she wore a cross—they screamed insults and obscenities at her and, as they turned to leave, splashed acid at her face. She escaped unharmed because she had had the sense to quickly close the car windows and lock the doors. Once home, she decided to file a report on the incident with the police, but the officer on duty refused to file it saying that she could furnish no evidence to her story and that the police had more important matters to tend to.
I raise this complaint to the Interior Minister—Watani has all the details on the incident—not only to catch the criminals but to take to account the police officer who dared renounce his duty.
WATANI International
14 October 2012