Greetings from prison
Egypt.
The last week has been a study in frustration, followed by lessons in
Egyptian police harassment, at least that's what it seems like. I
submitted my application for a tourist visa to the Sudan Consulate in
Cairo on 1 April and I'm still waiting! As I must pass through Sudan to
get to Ethiopia, I am effectively blocked from moving south by land. It
is possible to fly directly to Ethiopia and that will be my fall back
strategy.
With time to kill while waiting for the next Sudan visa
disappointment, I decided to head down toward Luxor stopping at any old
somewhere along the way. The somewhere turned out to be Minya, the
capital of the governorate where terrorists are suspected to be hiding
as it turns out. There has been no terrorist action against tourists for
eight years although the same group of bad guys is suspected to be
responsible for a particularly brutal attack on police officers as
recently as 1997. Foreign governments have been warning their nationals
to avoid the area since 1992 and the Egyptian authorities have been
working feverishly to eliminate any suspicion of danger to tourists.
Minya could be a typical medium sized Egyptian town with little to
attract tourists, and in some ways that's what I found. It fancies
itself at the gateway to one of the ancient archaeological tomb sites,
Beni Hassen. That is the main reason I decided to stop there rather than
a couple other towns along the way. Boy, was I in for a surprise! Little
did I suspect I had stumbled into an area run like a police state.
Most of the Egypt I've seen is more or less like everywhere else in
the world: lots of good, wonderful people and sights plus a scattering
of bad people and things. Minya, has been invaded by every branch of the
existing and newly created civilian police services which are still
searching for the Islamic extremists known to be responsible for the
attacks on tourists almost a decade ago. One newspaper article at the
time put the influx of special police personnel at a thousand, but even
today there must be at least that many. Articles in the Al-Ahram Weekly
On-line and censored articles from the Middle East Times
told a different story of the late 1990's in Egypt, but the citations
disappeared sometime before 30 August 2010.
The security activity today is controversial and some critics say it is the
police and their disregard for human rights that have led to more recent
attacks on the anti-terrorist military-police personnel.
On the train from Cairo I shared my seat row with a good looking
young guy with the Special Forces, the special police branch charged
with protecting the antiquities and tourists from threats of all kinds
including terrorists. He told me I could spot people from his branch by
their black uniforms, which I subsequently saw everyplace I went in and
around the town. He confirmed that the government still is VERY
concerned that would be visitors to Egypt feel safe and all of the
security activity is in place for that purpose.
My first personal encounter with the ubiquitous and heavily armed
police security agents came as I left the Lotus Hotel to walk the town
and check out other hotel possibilities. Someone dressed in a delebaya
(Arabic robe) approached me like all the other hustlers in Egypt and
said he would come along with me. I told him I didn't need or want any
company and motioned him away. He slinked back, but the next time I
looked around there he was. So, I took mild evasive action and lost him
with little effort. When I reached the Hotel Etab, the "best hotel
in town" and made arrangements to move over there the next day, a
big guy who looked for all the world like an Egyptian version of
Gunsmoke's Sheriff Mat Dillon, approached me: "You are the
American, right? I saw you over at the Lotus Hotel." Surprised, I
looked to the hotel manager for an explanation and he added "we
have been hearing about you on the radio." (That's the police
radio!)
It had been an hour's walk over to the new hotel so I agreed a cab
back would make sense (the fare was only 2 Egyptian Pounds or about half
a dollar). When I got back to the Lotus Hotel I learned that the
"tout" I had alluded had been my official police escort. We
all had a good laugh. Later in the evening I again went out to walk the
town and my plain-clothes tourist police escort again tagged along. I
let him know through gestures that I didn't want him too close to me and
he more or less complied... I could always pick him out of the crowds
around me not more than five meters away every time I looked, however.
The next morning I shouldered my backpack and headed out walking
toward the Hotel Etab. I planned to walk part of the 7-8 Km and perhaps
pickup a cab at some point. My police escort made a big fuss about the
urgency of my getting a cab... he indicated he had already called one! I
insisted on walking and much to his consternation, off I went with my
distraught shadow in tow. I ended up walking the entire distance, my
light blue robed watcher not far behind. At the hotel gate my guy and a
half dozen other police personnel in various kinds of uniforms carried
on animated discussions obviously about me.
The next day my new hotel manager and I had arranged for a driver and
car to take me to the two principle archaeological sites in the region:
Beni Hassen and Tell al-Amarna, ancient Egyptian tombs cut into the rock
cliffs that run along the Nile from horizon to horizon. After checking
into the hotel I got myself down to the lobby at the appointed 10:00AM
time to meet the driver, but more arrangements needed to be completed
before we could start our 80 km trek to the ruins. A blue pickup truck
containing four well armed "soldiers" including one officer
and one special forces guy in black finally arrived and our little
convoy started off about 10:30; the truck leading the way and our small
vintage sedan following. At seemingly every opportunity the truck would
emit short bursts of its electronic siren to order pedestrians and other
vehicles out of the way to allow our caravan to proceed unimpeded... or
perhaps to attract attention to the very important dignitary they had in
their custody.
We hadn't gotten far out of town before my driver began muttering
something in Arabic. Then he pulled over to the side of the road holding
in his hand the gearshift shaft which had fallen out! Fortunately, we
had broken down right in front of a garage and a mechanic came promptly
to our aid. At the same time the military escort jumped into action
setting up a protective perimeter around our disabled vehicle. Every
time I made a move one of the soldiers became agitated and repositioned
himself. I started seeing humor in the whole charade and imagined myself
some important foreign official, perhaps a president even. I pretended
like the bad guys were after me and moved to a protective space between
two buildings to make it easier for my protectors.
Finally, the car became operational again and off we started. Not
more than 15 minutes later we again stopped on the instructions of the
officer in the military truck ahead. "We are waiting for another
escort detail," he told me in answer to my puzzled expressions.
Soon, an enormous armored personnel carrier arrived and pulled in
ahead of the little truck. The military pickup truck full of solders
peeled off and parked on the other side of the road where it apparently
sat the entire time we were gone awaiting our return. Our tiny sedan
inched up under the protecting "arms" of the huge military
vehicle while the six men inside made preparations for leaving.
Eventually, the high caliber machine gun manned and other automatic
weapons at the ready we headed south on the road to the famous tourist
attractions. After perhaps a half hour we again halted and learned that
another "detail" would take us the rest of the distance. At
the river an Egyptian Navy boat with armed sailors accompanied the ferry
that took our car and us across the Nile to the foot of the cliffs on
the east bank where all the tombs are located.
After all the preparations and excitement of the trip to get here, I
am sorry to report the tombs themselves are hardly worth the trouble.
Each room carved into solid rock measured perhaps 7 by 12 meters with
ceilings about 6 or 7 meters high. All had elaborate paintings on the
walls depicting the daily life of the deceased I am told. Big deal. I
saw better up in Giza near the pyramids with much less trouble getting
to them.
I hoped for something more spectacular at our next destination, Tell
al-Amarna, represented in some ancient history books as the "Cradle
of Civilization." Off we started... Goliath ahead, our rattling sedan
following. The roads wound their way through several picturesque
villages primitive by even Egyptian standards, our caravan attracting
attention wherever we went. If there were bad guys out there looking for
targets, they would have had no trouble finding us. I got to wondering
if I might be bait to flush out the still hiding militants. I wish I
could report how delightful were the new tombs, but to tell the truth,
they looked identical to the ones at Beni Hassan earlier. While archeologists, no doubt find them a treasure trove of antiquity, I
remained decidedly underwhelmed.
Anticlimactic is the best way to describe our return trip home. The
big personnel carried peeled off a short way back letting us proceed on
through a couple check points unaccompanied until we reached our little
blue pickup full of guys no doubt excited to see us after their hot wait
by the side of the road where we had left them six hours earlier.
The next morning I planned a long conditioning walk. As I prepared to
leave the hotel compound the "military" scurried to make sure
I had the appropriate escort to tag along, a plain clothes guy carrying
a concealed AK47 under his delabeia. I indicated my preference to walk
alone, but they insisted on protecting me. During the entire two-hour
walk this guy would interject himself into every encounter or
conversation I initiated along the way... always telling the Egyptians
something like: "This is an American. I am his assigned police
bodyguard." As one of the people with whom I spoke knew perfect
English I got an accurate translation of my escort's usual Arabic
pronouncements. At other times people would hear his announcement and
then look at me saying "Amerique?" and smile. A day later I
met a fellow at a museum who was "licensed" to speak to
foreigners who told me it is against the law to speak to foreigners on
the street and an Egyptian in Minya can go to jail for it! This same
routine repeated itself every time I left the hotel: to explore the
town, to meet the people, to spend some time working on the Internet
getting my PenCam pictures processed.
Finally, I'd had enough close police surveillance and told the hotel
staff as much. "Oh. You may write out a statement saying you do not
want a police escort, sign it and we will terminate the bodyguard
service." Sign off on the city's responsibility to protect its
visitors? You got to be nuts! What I did do was prepare a carefully
worded statement of my observations that the police procedures in place
here made things LESS secure for foreign visitors, in my opinion. I
presented this to the hotel receptionist and asked that they tell the
police to lay off, which they apparently did. My next walk did not
include a shadow; though I now fear I actually just gave them the slip
in the confusion of a new busload of guests arriving. The next time I
left the hotel, here was the gang of police hovering around me and this
time with an attitude, blocking my way as I attempted to rush away
before they could get themselves organized. A block or two away from the
hotel sure enough there was my trusty protector, this time slinking in
the "shadows." By now I am really pissed. This is no way to
run a railroad!
As I attempt to find an Internet cafe with all the features I need to
process my camera, I am directed to the governorate (state capital)
building where there is supposed to be an office to help tourists.
Stumbling around inside the three-story structure I am finally directed
to an office where a guy in his forties spoke good English. I explained
my computer need and he made a phone call. When I enquired what might be
his responsibility for the governorate (like a state in the U.S.), he
informed me that he is the head of the "secret police."
Boy! Did I let him have it! He listened politely, had mint tea
brought in, presented me with a little lapel pin and asked a number of
questions about my experiences with his police officers. As I prepared
to leave with one of his officers who had been instructed to take me to
a place where I could use a computer connected to the Internet, there
arose such a commotion that everything stopped and a couple officers
hustled me back into the police chief's office. In a moment the chief
returned to explain that the Governor General wanted to meet me!
With all the fanfare appropriate for a state governor we were led
into a large waiting room and in a few minutes ushered into the presence
of Governor General Hassan Hemeda who glanced up briefly to acknowledge
our presence and continued to sign letters from a huge pile on his desk
making the usual small talk as he did: "How do you like Minya; are
you having a good time; etc." Finally, he directed his full
attention to Mr. Mohammed Saeid, his head of the police operations who
translated for us. "How have you found our efforts to protect
foreign tourists?" he asked through the interpreter. For perhaps
three or four minutes he listened while I detailed my observations and
feelings, finally offering a few suggestions for making the escort
activity less intrusive, less obtrusive.
The governor then launched into what must have been his canned speech
about how everything now being done had been at the request of the major
foreign embassies, the American and British in particular - crowing that
after years of being black-listed by those countries, only two months
ago Minya had once again been judged by the American Ambassador safe
enough for American citizens!
Rising, the governor indicated we were approaching the end of our
meeting and directed the waiting photographer to capture this historic
meeting for posterity (what else?). I produced my little spy camera and
he agreed to let his man take a picture of me shaking his hand, the hand
of the guy ultimately responsible for all the misery I had been
enduring. He then searched around in his desk drawers locating a
souvenir folder with a cheap papyrus picture of Nefertiti, and a key
chain with the governorate logo. He then invited me to sit down for a
while and drink more mint tea and look through several large albums of
photos featuring the attractions of his region.
I stayed on in Minya another night, but soon felt it time to move on
as the police personnel around the hotel had obviously gotten the word
that I am a trouble maker and their behavior around me got rather weird.
People still followed me, but now I had to look hard to catch them at
it. At the train station, the police knew me when I arrived and treated
me like some special visiting dignitary... not overbearing, but very
attentive, making sure I got my ticket and got on the correct train for
Luxor (Is it possible that I had been gently run out of town again?).
Peace,
Fred Bellomy 15 April 2001
PS: From the Middle East Times (October 1993): "Hassan Abdel
Latif MINYA Around 1,000 police, including anti-terrorist squads and
Special Forces, launched a massive man-hunt in Egypt on 14 October for
Islamic militants suspected of carrying out the bloodiest attacks
against the police in five years." Note: this article is among many
which were censored from the printed version of the paper. Though now
purged from the on-line site, they made for interesting reading about
problems in the Middle East and Egypt in particular. FB
