Read the Arabic version here.
It all started on December 7 of 2020, when we woke up to 3 anonymous testimonies accusing a film director of committing several acts of sexual harassment and assault. The alleged events took place in his home, where he lured his victims under pretext of running acting auditions for his upcoming film.
I was still in bed, half asleep, lazily scrolling Facebook posts, when the first testimony jumped on my screen. Then the second, then the third. I sat up straight, fully awake, heart pounding and pupils dilated. Despite the testimonies only mentioning the first initials of the accused film director, I immediately knew who he was. One of the three testimonies sounded very familiar. Not only had I heard this story straight from the woman’s mouth, I have also witnessed the destructive effect it had on her life over the past years. She was my friend. This is why I did not doubt the authenticity of the other two testimonies, especially that I was aware of a fourth incident that I had been told about by the victim/survivor herself, when she had reached out at the time asking for my advice.
The three testimonies were published just a few days before the opening of the Cairo International Film Festival (CIFF). The premiere of the film of the accused director was highly anticipated since it was the only Egyptian feature in the official competition. Critics and cinema enthusiast alike were expecting an exceptional film worthy of the reputation of the “intellectual director who excels at representing the female psyche”. This is precisely why, despite the fact that I was not previously aware of their intentions, I was not surprised in the least by the timing the victims chose for posting their testimonies. For here is the man who has caused them so much harm, celebrating his moment of success and glory. Meanwhile their lives are disrupted, their dreams put on hold, as they struggle to recover from the destructive effects of what he had done to them. What a better timing to expose him than when he is already in the spot light.
I felt conflicted and was not sure what to do. The three women chose to post anonymously and only use the initials of the director’s name. Besides, they hadn’t shared their intention to post with me nor had they asked for my help. I was not sure what my responsibility was, given the information that I happen to have. I did not want to let the women down by not using what I know to support them. But in the same time, I was worried that a miscalculated action on my side would escalate matters and push them into confrontations which they are not ready for and did not chose to get into.
The three testimonies were posted following major breakthroughs achieved by the Egyptian MeToo campaign. The MeToo campaign not only succeeded at exposing several major incidents, it also forced the state to take action by prosecuting the alleged perpetrators and sending several ones to prison. As a result, social media has witnessed an unprecedented increase in anonymous sexual violence testimonies. This influx was accompanied by a collective euphoria and a sense that justice is being served by exposing sexual predators. I, on the other hand, felt very uneasy towards the over-celebration of these “victories”, especially in the absence of any engagement with the practice of anonymous Naming and Naming for what it really is: an imperfect tool which women have little to no other options but to resort to for lack of safe alternatives, in an unjust world where women represent the weakest link. The three testimonies against the director however, were another case. The information I possessed erased any possible doubt in my heart about their authenticity. Additionally, the platform that published the testimonies had been gaining credibility over time, thanks to a very balanced discourse, a non-sensational approach, and sincere efforts to establish standards to verify the authenticity of testimonies before publishing.
I decided not to rush into any decision and see how things develop. Meanwhile, the testimonies had spread widely. Many had managed to guess the identity of the accused director from his Initials, and others called for the cancellation of the premiere of his film at the Cairo Film Festival. In response, the accused director published a statement on Facebook the following day. He declared that he was indeed the director mentioned in the testimonies, denied all the accusations, and claimed he was victim of a systematic defamation campaign lead by “the enemies of success” who want to harm his film. He stressed on his support for women’s rights. To prove it, he invited any woman who had an accusation against him to report him to the authorities and let the law decide.
The director’s “openness” to involving authorities turned him from perpetrator to victim in the eyes of many. Soon after he posted his statement, the timeline was bombarded with violent posts and comments defending him by slut shaming the testifiers, and accusing them of fabricating stories to destroy “the noble artist” just for being a man. The accused director had successfully utilized the anonymity of the testimonies to discredit any allegations fabrications of this imaginary women guerilla dedicating their time and effort to destroy innocent men.
This was when I decided to post under my real name, corroborating the authenticity of the published testimony of which I had prior knowledge. My main target was to confirm that the testimonies were written by real victims/survivors and not mere trolls or as he claims a random bunch of angry women with an absurd agenda. One main factor that encouraged me to take the decision and post under my real name was fact that it was he himself who declared that he was the accused director in question. This meant that was not responsible for revealing his identity and linking his name to accusation in public. I would soon discover how naïve I was.
In my post, I have directly addressed the director whom I have known for years and added a mention of his account. I told him that I was grateful for the good times that brought us together in the past, but that I had an ethical obligation to corroborate the authenticity of some of the accusations against him, and to deny his claims that they were fabrications of an imaginary bunch of haters. To which he responded shortly by accusing me of defamation and threatening to take legal action against me and anyone who had mentioned his name publicly in support of these testimonies.
A disingenuous invitation
I need to point out two things before I continue. Firstly, I was fully aware when I decided to post my testimony of the possibility of being targeted by the accused director. I was the perfect scapegoat he could use to whitewash his image, given that he was unable to take legal actions against anonymous testimonies published on an anonymous platform. Secondly and most importantly, He knew perfectly well how difficult it would have been for the testifier to take legal action against him. This is why he could do his theatrics and encourage his alleged victims/survivors to report him, knowing perfectly well it was near impossible that they would. He also knew that even if they did report him, it would have been impossible to convict him given the circumstances and nature of the incidents.
Researcher and Activist Nana Abuelsoud explains:
“There is a very big chance that the victims/survivors will refrain from taking legal action out of fear of social stigma and punishment from their families. Time has proven that the legal course is not the most convenient for women in such cases, because the societal punishment they get subjected to is way bigger and lasts longer than the initial transgression. I remember an incident where two women fell victim of leaked sexual videos without their knowledge. Despite being the victims, they were sentenced to prison after being found guilty of indecency, and later ostracized and slut shamed. Meanwhile, no one bothered to punish the real offender; the person who leaked their private videos. This is why women have started to resort to naming and shaming because it was the most convenient tool available to the many who wanted to share their experiences and warn other women. Additionally, the act of speaking up give them a chance to express their anger, makes them feel heard, and that the person who has caused them harm is facing some sort of consequences.”
The accused director and his supporting posse of reactionaries and terrified men were fully aware of the fact that the victims/survivors couldn’t possibly report him for a crime without witnesses, which took place in his house or theirs, to which they had gone on their own accord, defying the moral values of the conservative society. Going to the police in such cases will probably mean that they will be subjected to a humiliating line of questioning that will make them out to be the guilty instead of the victims. Additionally, they will face the risk of blackmail and retaliation, especially that the defendant’s lawyer will have access to their personal information including their addresses. Not to mention possible punishment from the families for tarnishing their reputation by going to a strange man’s house!
This is why Nana Abuelsoud adds:
“Before asking women to resort to the legal course, we must note that the laws are not as flexible as they are claimed to be. On top of that, they are often interpreted based on political decisions or personal convictions of those who apply them. Egypt produces many laws against forms of gender-based violence. But this is only in theory because we don’t have a surveying process to measure the efficacy of these laws and whether they are being implemented or not. We do not even have a surveying process to measure the turnout for the hotlines created by the state, whether for complaints against sexual violence, FGM, or marriage of minors. We also do not know how many of the complaints received by these hotlines have been resolved in a manner which is satisfactory for the plaintiffs.”
For all these reasons, the accused director could confidently “demand” that his accusers report him to the police. And for more intimidation, he decided to take legal action against the likes of me, who have shown support for the published testimonies which number had increase from three to six by this time. However, his selection was far from being random. Between hundreds of supporters, He has tactfully selected a bunch of us who were renowned activists with a large following. He knew that silencing a few of us was enough to intimidate hundreds, and not only scare them of showing solidarity with his victims/survivors, but of publicly supporting any published testimonies in the future.
For procedural reasons, only two cases were filed; one against me, and the other against my writer and activist friend Rasha Azab, who was sentenced to a 10 thousand Egyptian Pounds fine. My case was a bit more complicated. While she was charged with “insult and slander” for calling the director “a rapist” in a tweet, I on the other hand, was charged with intentional disturbance and invasion of privacy according to article 25 of Cyber Crime Law 175 of 2018. A crime that is punishable by prison, or fine, or both. Luckily, I didn’t get prison time, but got fined 50 thousand Egyptian Pounds in addition to an extra 20 thousand as compensation for “my victim”.
What does this mean for the feminist movement?
“The first thing that came to my mind when I heard that these cases have been filed was: Where else can we go? I felt that these cases were a direct and alarming message for us. They are not even persecuting the testifiers, but their supporters! It was common that the woman who decides to face her assailant would pay the price. This is why we put all our efforts into protecting her and her anonymity, and that of the platform which is publishing her testimony. But for them to persecute random people for reacting to a post published online and publicly showing their support, this was an unprecedented escalation.” Says Marina Samir, an Egyptian researcher and activist.
My verdict hit the feminist circles hard. The enormity of the fine was not the issue. I had a lot of support which made collecting the amount in a short time easy. Additionally, two of the most prominent human rights lawyers had volunteered to defend me.
This means that I did not pay any attorney fees. If I had paid, the amount would have probably exceeded the fine itself. However, the verdict was a legal precedent where public solidarity with testimonies of sexual assault is being criminalized. This meant that all the gains of the Egyptian MeToo campaign could go to waste.
“This means that any woman who wants to show solidarity must have a large balance in the bank, or belong to certain circles and enjoys significant social capital. This contributes to our isolation, meaning that if I belong to a circle of feminists who know each other, they will manage to collect my fine and get me out if I get convicted. But if I’m just a random person who decides to support a testimony online, and someone reports me, who then will collect the money for me? This verdict entrenches our isolation because it means that we remain a closed circle, no matter how big it gets. We take care of each other and collect money for each other. As if the ability to show feminist solidarity becomes a privilege in itself. Meaning that only if I have these privilege then I can show solidarity because I am capable of paying the fine if I get convicted,” Marina Samir explains.
Nana Abuelsoud who agrees with Marina points out the importance of looking at social capital within the context of class because of its endless resources. She adds: “It’s not just the fact that there is always those who will make contributions to collect the money for the fines, but also those who will volunteer to represent you in court pro bono, and those who will invest time and effort to run online campaigns, and all those who will come and stand with you in front of the court to make a statement and declare solidarity, let alone all the human rights organizations who will adopt your case. All these are factors that are not available, not only to those who do not belong to a certain class, but to certain circles within this class.”
On a different note, Rasha Azab’s conviction followed by my own were an indication of a shift in the state’s position from online anonymous testimonies. In the previous months, the state had taken what the feminist circles have considered positive actions towards sexual assault incident that were brought up by MeToo campaigns. The testimonies that were circulated back then had caused quite a stir, to the extent that the state was obliged to open investigations and even convict some of the accused. For this reason, we saw our conviction as the beginning of a new era that is quite alarming. Especially in my case, since I was convicted using article 25 of Cyber Crime Law 175 of 2018. For since this law has been conceived in 2018, the mention of the mysterious article 25 kept coming up in different cases against women who have committed various acts, only for feminist solidarity to finally make the list.
The curse of Article 25
Article 25 specifies 5 acts criminalized by law. However, the multifariousness of the acts has caused a lot of confusion since the commencement of the law. For example, while I was convicted of Intending to Disturb and Violation of Privacy, many women have been convicted of Infringement on Egyptian Family Values in several cases where they were also charged with Indecency, Solicitation, and Human Trafficking!
“The Infringement on Egyptian Family Values charge is very problematic. It is a very vague and moralistic, which makes it prone to personal interpretation. It is also not clear, what is the connection between Infringement on Egyptian Family Values and the other acts incriminated by this article such as Intending to Disturb or Sharing personal information without the person’s consent. On the other hand, there are legislative problems in this article. Everywhere in the world, there is a general law and special laws. For example, in Egypt, we have the Penal Code which regulates all punishable acts, but we also have special laws that are used for specific crimes that have special status like possession of weapons and ammunition, drugs, and cybercrime. The problem here is that article 25 of Cybercrime law 175 of 2018 criminalizes Intending to Disturb, however, article 166 of the Penal Code criminalizes Intending to Disturb since the 1950s to combat telephone prank calls! This means that this charge is repeated in both laws with two different punishments. This is a direct conflict, and not all courts pay attention to the fact that it’s the same charge.”
ُُThis is how Human Rights lawyer Ahmed Ragheb who has volunteered to represent me describes article 25.
From her side, Marina Samir wonders if it wasn’t possible for the court to interpret the law differently so that the verdict comes in favor of those who show solidarity instead of against them:
“One of the legal information we’ve learned later was that article 25 of Cybercrime Law was aimed at protecting the right to privacy. The problem here is that “privacy” could be interpreted in a million ways. For example, we can consider that it means not punishing a man who commits crimes of domestic violence because these are “private” matters, or we consider it means protecting a woman when her private photos or videos get leaked putting her at risk of societal punishment. This is why I believe it was legally possible to reach a ruling that does not incriminate solidarity.”
Ragheb agrees that any legal text could have several interpretations because there many things are put into consideration when applying the law:
“For example, the law obliges you to report crimes. However, you decided not to fulfil this duty because you had other considerations; protecting the victims/survivors. From their side, the prosecution -as representative of society – has the authority to initiate proceedings based on the accusations that you have published. Alignment with the values and interests of society has always existed, regardless of how just or righteous it is. The law is not just legal texts, and in these contexts, social pressure and advocacy play a big role in highlighting the importance of a certain case in such a way that pushes prosecution to take action. This is why, in principle, I am against prosecution initiating proceedings, because the norm is that the victim should reportprovided there are guarentees for their protection. However, in certain cases where there is power imbalance, prosecution should intervene and initiate proceedings.”
So why hasn’t prosecution initiate proceeding in this case like it has done in previous similar cases?
Nana Abuelsoud thinks it has to do with the nature of the cases and their magnitude. There were two precedents where the state was forced to intervene: The case of Ahmed Bassam Zaki ABZ, a university student who has assaulted a large number of his female colleagues. The other was the case of a gang rape committed by the sons of the wealthiest businessmen in the country. The case was dubbed the Fairmont Case because the incident took place at the luxurious Fairmont Hotel.
“ABZ case took place in a private university and most of the victims/survivors were minors from Upper and Upper Middle Classes. These circumstances pushed The National Women Council to adopt the case and subsequently prosecution intervened and initiated proceedings. They felt it was necessary to calm down all those panicked parents. When it comes to the Fairmont Case, not only were the accused members of the wealthiest families in the country, the fact that there were leaked videos of the incident circulating was too grave to ignore. On the other hand, the fact that theses two cases blew up simultaneously directed the attention of the state to a huge moral defect that has gotten out of control. The state had to intervene like a father who breaks up the fight and punishes all the siblings to assert authority. However, in the case of the accused director, perhaps the state’s reluctance to intervene is due to a conservative view of the cinema field, and especially that of independent filmmaking, assuming that the art world has more room for ethical violations than other fields.”
Perhaps then, the fact that the victims/survivors went to the director’s house willingly to addition for acting parts, has made them subject to moral judgment, following the logic that these are a bunch of deviant degenerates accusing one of their kind therefore not worthy of the state’s attention. Or perhaps it’s timing of the testimonies plays an important role in the state’s reaction like Ahmed Ragheb suggests:
“ABZ case and the Fairmont Cases were publicized at the peak of MeToo campaign, both locally and internationally. The prosecution was pushed to initiate proceedings because there was societal pressure as well as a political decision or will to address the issue. But these circumstances were not present in the case of the accused director, which came subsequent to MeToo and in the context of arts and festivals and filmmakers, which is totally different than the political context of the previous cases.”
After the verdict
After Azab’s and my convictions, perhaps we should take a moment to make a realistic evaluation of our actual strength as feminist groups. Does the feminist movement against sexual violence possess enough power to force the judicial system to take our side?
“I think we were a bit delusional about the amount power we possess and the protection it grants. We had a false impression that the support campaign against the director had made enough noise to affect the course of the case. We built this impression based on our online activities on social media, but we forgot how detached this world is from real life. As a result, we failed to protect each other. We even failed to protect the testifiers, although the whole thing about anonymity was initially meant for their protection. Of course, Anonymity has protected them from legal punishment but it failed to protect them of all types of societal punishment and emotional violence like slut shaming and accusing them of fabrication.” Says Marina Samir.
Nana Abuelsoud is in agreement with this opinion and finds that our access to digital tools which allows to mobilize cases within our spaces gives us a false sense of victory. Because the fact is, we are trapped in an echo chamber. We approach things from a position of Cairo-centric class overlay. Most of the issues raised by feminist groups, whether official or non-official, do not represent the majority of Egyptian women. These groups are mostly comprised of migrants who have succeeded to move to Cairo and live independently, or Cairenes who have won their independence battles against their families. The priorities and interests of these groups mostly revolve around sexual freedom and forms of consent. These issues are discussed using pre-packaged and encrypted tone, discourse and terminology that are indecipherable to those who do not belong to this culture.
“Let’s take Speaking Up, and Naming & Shaming as examples. These tools are only common in our circles. We must ask ourselves how a woman from outside of these circles (in the large sense)would perceive these concepts if we suggest to her that she posts her testimony on a blog? Will she see any benefit or value in Naming & Shaming the perpetrator? We are “spreading awareness” about sexual violence and preaching to the totality of women as if they all live within these circles. However, while we put all this effort into documenting and sharing our experiences find a meeting grounds between us, this is not necessarily how people identify with each other outside our feminist, arts, and activist circles.”
Ordinary women
If we take a look at the other cases where women got convicted using Article 25, perhaps we can see the separation Nana Abuelsoud is talking about. This takes back to 2020, at the peak of the Corona pandemic that has lost a large sector of Egyptians their livelihood, in the absence of any social benefits or financial aid for the most vulnerable classes. In the light of these circumstances, a bunch of women from working class backgrounds posted videos of themselves dancing and joking around on Tiktok. One of them suggested to her female viewers to create accounts on a platform named Likey and do monetized Live video chatting, as a means to overcome the economic crisis. However, some “honorable” citizens reported the women who got arrested and charged with Human trafficking, indecency, solicitation, And… Infringement on Egyptian Family Values.
The ruling against one of the women stated that: “she used her influence to lure girls and take advantage of them for financial gains by encouraging them to create accounts on Likey and to do live chats. This defendant filmed herself with the help of others, while she danced on public road in revealing clothes for the purposes of seduction and luring girls to her page to reach maximum viewership.”
According to Nana Abuelsoud, it is obvious that in the beginning, The State was confused by the application Tiktok and the monetary cycle related to its activities. It was as if their thought process went like this: We do not understand this thing, we do not understand the rules of these transactions or where this money is coming from, so we will intervene as the State and put you back in your place first, then we will figure how this money cycle works.
“As soon as the state figured out the Tiktok interactions, they got normalized. New tax laws were drafted to include taxes on income from social media platforms, and the state declared a partnership with Tiktok during the International Youth Forum.”
In a way, this means that the “TikTok Women” who got convicted, have paid alone the price of the state’s failure to provide alternative sources of income during a global pandemic. They have also paid for the state’s delay in understanding and regulating the process of monetization on social media platforms. But still, why have the prosecution resort to Article 25 charging them with Infringement on Egyptian Family Values along with other charges with moralistic connotations such as Indecency, Solicitation, and Human Trafficking?
According to Nana Abuelsoud, there are two reasons. The first reason is that women are usually the weakest link, they are easier targets for sensational media campaigns aiming at inflaming public outrage, whether by leaking personal information about the defendants or by leaking screenshots of the investigation reports… etc. The second reason is the fact that these women belong to a below-middle class. The easy interface of Tiktok gave access to users coming from backgrounds that are very different from those of Instagram users. Not only that, this new class of social media platform users are talking openly and freely about all types of subjects without restriction. There is an obvious classist aspect in the moral grandstanding that took the shape of a purge campaign, led by middle class males against content creators from less privileged backgrounds.
“Most of the reports against TikTok Women were not filed through the new Complaints and Cyber Content Surveillance Unit established in 2019 in response to viral calls for protest. What was happening is that when male Youtubers would come across content that they deem indecent or obscene, they would report the women by posting the account handles on the General Prosecutor’s pages on social media. Based on these “mentions”, prosecution would initiate proceedings and the women are taken to court while there has never been an official report to begin with!”
Article 25 is here to get us all!
Despite the class difference between Tiktok Woman and I, and despite the different nature of our cases, concerns, and priorities, Article 25 managed to get us all. It is funny that Cyber Crime Law 175 of 2018 was initially written with a noble objective in mind: protection of privacy. However, it has become a new threat to women. This does not mean that the law is not used against men as well, but women are the easy target in a conservative society that is always ready to slut shame a woman under pretext of “protecting the values of the Egyptian Family”, if she dares to takes a single step away from the moral path it has defined. While women have found in the internet a space for self-expression, be it the testifiers, their supporters, or the content creators on Tiktok, Article 25 is here to shrink this space and enforce the moral standards of the conservative society in cyber space just like in the street. This is the reason feminist circles took interest in the cases of the Tiktok Women and launched solidarity campaigns under the slogan “. While the campaigns failed to change the course of the cases, it definitely succeeded in drawing the attention to the danger of Article 25 for all of us. Or as Nana Abuelsoud says:
“One of the main reasons behind the sense of solidarity that drove the campaigns forward was a need to understand and analyze these new laws, and to warn that we will be next. Because If they managed to punish these women using a legal rationale, it would be possible for any one of us to face the same fate. Which is what happened eventually: It is now possible to find yourself in court getting charged according to Article 25, because someone took a post you wrote on social media to the police.”