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VII. Self-Censorship

Violations of academic freedom have been so prevalent and severe in Egypt that self-censorship has become common. This chilling effect saps institutions of the intellectual vitality and creativity that they should seek to foster. “The general impression one gets is that freedom of expression in many areas is self-censored. People know if something is frowned on. They take it on themselves not to press the issue. . . . Both in the press and  . . . in academic literature, there is a climate where people are aware of where the boundaries lie,” said Irfan Siddiq, the head of press and public affairs at the British Embassy.338 Self-censorship runs so deep in red line areas, some academics do not even see it as a significant limitation. “If you don’t touch the red lines, you’re free to express your opinion,” Cairo University engineering professor el-Raghy told Human Rights Watch.339 As with direct repression, self-censorship adversely affects all areas of academic life.

Classroom

Course Books

Fear of state censorship has led AUC professors to screen their own course book selections. “We try to choose things the censor won’t go for,” said one professor. She explained that some faculty members order a few books they expect to attract attention, hoping others will pass by unnoticed. Other professors no longer use a book they did in the past because they want to “give it a rest. We hope to keep it from being censored.”340 A professor in the theater department said he does not even order books anymore. He relies instead on photocopies. “I haven’t changed what I teach. I no longer order books because if I do, I set myself up to inspection.” He is trying to protect the books as well as himself. “If you order books that are already in [the country], you are endangering them. You have to be devious.”341

Self-censorship also affects the availability of books at AUC. Bookstore manager Zaug acknowledged, “You can’t just order anything. I’m banning myself by not ordering certain types of books. I don’t want to go through the hassle.” He said, for example, he was “dumb to try” to import a book entitled Sex Toy of the Gods a few years ago.342  Zaug also noted that the censor sometimes objects to a book over the phone but refuses to file a formal letter; in such cases, he generally sells the shipment he received but will not reorder the disputed work. Such defensive behavior may in part explain why, from 2002-2003, he remembers only one item being banned—the world map with the controversial Egypt-Sudan border. Self-censorship has affected the AUC Press as well. “Part of the reason that there have been fewer censored titles in the 1990s is because of what the Press learned in the 80s. Why even bring up a book for publication when you are sure it will be censored?” Zaug wrote.343 By provoking self-censorship, the state indirectly influences what books are sold and published on campus. The increase in self-censorship may also explain the decrease in outright bans; the state does not need to impose them if universities do not request controversial titles.

Islamist pressure leads to further self-censorship at AUC. Samia Mehrez said that the Islamists’ public attacks for her teaching For Bread Alone made her worry she would suffer the same fate as Abu Zaid. “Abu Zaid looms large in everybody’s head. He’s a scapegoat. You think you may end up like him.”344 Fear of non-state interference has deterred the library from fighting state censorship, which keeps controversial volumes on reserve. Challenging the state-imposed reserve system would bring attention to the fact that the library’s collection includes books some members of society might object to. “We keep a low profile or get people who don’t have good intentions,” Dean of Libraries el Sawy said.345

Class Discussion

Self-censorship influences class discussion as well as syllabi. Human Rights Watch found comparatively few examples of direct government interference in class discussion, but red lines limit the topics that can be addressed. “People are so used to it they censor themselves. They already know what’s acceptable,” the AUC theater professor said.346 Politics, for example, are largely off limits. “Most professors are quite cautious,” said Mustapha Kamel al-Sayyid, a political scientist who teaches at Cairo University and AUC. “Very few would dare to express views critical of the government in classes or public meetings. Those who do are a minority.”347 Even professors who said they felt free to discuss most subjects in the classroom avoided a topic as significant as the rule of Egypt’s president, Hosni Mubarak. “I haven’t felt in the classroom much restrictions,” said one sociologist. “I don’t say Mubarak is a dictator, but I do say some states like Egypt have a lifetime president.”348 A Cairo University professor who said there is “100 percent academic freedom in the classroom,” later clarified, on condition of anonymity, “You can’t attack Mubarak but anything else is OK.”349 While not a specific response to direct repression, the self-imposed limits on class discussion show the power of red lines in Egyptian academia.

Only senior faculty members, whose rank and established status protect them from some forms of government and public pressure, dare to cross the red lines. Like al-Sayyid, Cairo University’s Arabic literature professor Sayyed el-Bahrawy is a full professor who has been teaching for more than twenty years. He said, “They can’t ask me to change in the classroom. But weak professors are intimidated, especially about religious or Islamist problems.”350 Nadia Touba, an associate professor in the Faculty of Education at Alexandria University, said she was willing to cross red lines, but also described herself as someone who does not “compromise what I think and I get into trouble for it.” “People fear being reported. But if you don’t care, what’s the problem?” she said.351 Many professors do not have the level of seniority or the temperament that makes them feel comfortable crossing red lines.352

Although AUC is a private, liberal arts institution, the situation there is similar to that at the national universities. Professors’ response to red lines depends, in part, on their seniority and nationality. Arabic literature professor Samia Mehrez said, “I’m not intimidated in what I want to teach, but I’m tenured and Egyptian. . . . Foreign faculty are far more sensitive to what they teach and say in the classroom, how they approach students. They are on their toes all the time.”353 More junior professors said they felt less free to voice their opinions. “It’s not acknowledged at AUC, but for faculty members who hold [controversial] opinions, it’s very dangerous professionally. Even if you’re not actively embracing them, political opinions are dangerous,” said an American professor who asked not to be named.354 Although it is difficult to prove, the professor said crossing red lines can interfere with tenure decisions, and foreigners who lose their jobs at AUC often have to leave the country. In general, politics is a more dangerous subject for Egyptians and religion a more dangerous subject for foreigners, especially if they are not Muslim.355

Research

State and non-state repression has arguably had an even greater chilling effect on research than in the classroom. While teaching is mandatory, professors can more easily avoid scholarship or choose conservative topics if they fear repercussions. “Everyone is looking for a safe path, to stay away from danger. We haven’t had brilliant research in recent years. Research is pretty much on the beaten path,” said Ahmad Isma`il, editor at opposition newspaper al-Ahali.356 Self-censorship at Egyptian universities has interfered with both the quantity and quality of research.

The CAPMAS permit system stifles intellectual inquiry not only because it prohibits investigations of certain topics but also because some scholars respond by restricting their own research. They choose “safe” topics, allowing red lines to limit academic freedom. Saad, the AUC researcher, said, “There are certain things you won’t apply for because you know you won’t get a permit.” She gave ethnography of the military as an example.357 Al-Sayyid said, “There are certain questions that should not be asked. . . . It’s a case of self-censorship. You won’t put questions down that you know will get rejected by the security people.”358 Al-Sayyid generally avoids surveys because of the CAPMAS requirements and only applied for his first permit last year. He received permission for a project on the middle class three months later because it was “not as objectionable” as other topics, like security.359 Concern for their sources also may influence researchers’ decisions to avoid controversial topics. “You don’t always want to do something sensitive because you’re not sure you can protect informants. They may be harmed and it’s not just paranoia that they’re afraid,” Saad said.360

The state has so ingrained in academics the danger of working on red line topics that many do not even consider them legitimate subjects of research. Asked about the impact of the Saadeddin Ibrahim case, Egyptian academics were sympathetic but repeatedly noted that the state targeted him for his research, not his teaching. “He was not criticized for his AUC lectures,” colleague Emad Shahin said.361 Such reactions are a reminder of the low priority many professors put on research, which they consider an optional or less important part of their careers.362 They also viewed his case as an isolated one that would not affect them. Because the majority of academics avoid the kind of controversial red line research that Ibrahim and the Ibn Khaldun Center took on, they do not feel restricted by the threat of prosecution. Such avoidance, however, exemplifies the self-imposed restrictions placed on freedom of opinion in the realm of scholarly research.

The case of Abu Zaid, by contrast, elicited strong reactions from academics. Hilwan University professor al-Sayyid al-Sirwi described the case as a “milestone after which academic freedom declined at rapid speed.”363 Recent graduate `Imad Mubarak said, “When a student finds his professor prosecuted, it spreads an atmosphere of fear, terror, and intimidation. It directly and indirectly affects the educational system.”364 Part of this reaction may be attributable to the fact that Abu Zaid’s ordeal started with what should have been a routine promotion process, something all academics go through. In addition, the school had required him to do Quranic research because they needed that material covered; unlike Ibrahim, Abu Zaid did not choose his research area and then defy the state by continuing in the face of government opposition.365 Egyptian academics’ fear of the Islamists may also explain the more blatant chilling effect. “[The Abu Zaid case] has greatly affected cultural life in Egypt. We feel the stakes will be very high, it might be your life. There is an atmosphere of terror. It’s not the administration we have to answer to, but students, mosque, preacher, parent,” al-Sayyid al-Sirwi said.366 Because such opponents of academic freedom are less predictable and in some cases more violent than the state, they can cause more self-censorship by researchers.

Student Activities and Campus Demonstrations

While Egyptian authorities and Islamist militants both inhibit scholarship, the officials also discourage student activities outside the classroom. The extensive and sometimes violent interference with student union elections, for example, has decreased student participation as candidates and voters. An Islamist professor said his students told him they are afraid to run. “They don’t nominate themselves because they are either arrested or summoned to university or security forces. They would rather not put themselves or their parents in that situation. There is a great deal of pressure on them,” he said.367 While fear drives some students away, the student unions’ ineffectiveness has caused others to lose interest. An Alexandria University student, who described himself as apolitical, said, “The elections for student union are not real elections. Nothing happens and nothing changes. Therefore most [students] don’t nominate themselves because they know the results can’t be changed.”368 Engineering professor `Issam Hashish from Cairo University concurred. “Even the students who have no background, no political activity, are not allowed to join [the union]. Over time they have lost interest in elections,” he said.369 The lack of involvement extends even to casting ballots. “The students are increasingly not voting because they are disillusioned. The student union is seen as a government body that is not representative of students,” said Margo Abdel Aziz, U.S. Embassy education specialist.370 When students keep themselves out of campus politics, they suffer personal frustration and leave a void in leadership that the administration can fill as it wishes.

Government repression has also affected campus protests. News of the demonstration in Alexandria, for example, quickly spread around the country and frightened students at other universities. “People are afraid to go out. They killed someone. Maybe some of us will die,” said Bassam Murtada of Cairo University.371 Murtada said he personally responded with a mixture of surprise, anger, and guilt. He could not believe violence had reached this level. “The whole thing was turning into an absurd thing, as if [the campus were] a battlefield. . . . I couldn’t envision how the government instilled in young people that they are in war. . . . The government won’t stop anywhere, it will go all the way.”372  Murtada also felt guilty for recruiting classmates for demonstrations because he now feared for himself and others. “The guy who died died an absurd death,” he said. “He was a human being who thought he had a right to express himself, that his voice would make a difference. It was a very absurd death. It makes you think about life.”373 The violence of the state security forces not only stifled the specific protest in Alexandria but also forced others, even activist students, to think twice before joining campus demonstrations.

Fearing the state’s intimidation tactics, students tend to avoid not only activism but also their activist peers.374 “Many of my colleagues are afraid to talk to me,” `Ain Shams student Mai Mustafa said. “They don’t care about politics. They just study and go home safely. . . . Mostly they are afraid to get involved.” Iman Kamil, an `Ain Shams graduate, said ordinary students did not to want to talk to her because they believed she was a “bad person.” “It increases the demoralization of others and discourages them from being involved,” she said.375 Only those truly committed to their cause persevere in such an environment.

Self-censorship in student activities and campus demonstrations not only creates a less stimulating academic environment on campus, but it also ill-prepares Egypt’s youth to be active political citizens as adults. Students do not learn how politics work and may associate activism with abuse. The result is a population unwilling to challenge the status quo.

Conclusion and Recommendations

Self-censorship results from pervasive academic freedom violations of two sorts. First, the state directly infringes on freedom of expression, association, and assembly, creating powerful disincentives to participation in university life. Professors and students do not feel free to exchange ideas or gather formally or informally. Even freedom of opinion has been affected. Siddiq noted, “Self censorship inhibits thinking as well as expression.”376 Second, state authorities have failed in their ICCPR Article 2 duty to ensure these rights are protected against intrusion by others. While not every academic who chooses to censor him or herself has necessarily been repressed by the state, the fact that many choose to do so reflects the general climate of fear present on campus. The state has a legal duty to remove that fear, whether state officials or private groups cause it. The latter, notably Islamist militants, have also failed in their obligation to respect the academic freedom of others.

To combat these problems, Human Rights Watch recommends:

  • The state remove the direct repression that has led to self-censorship, including censorship of imported books, CAPMAS permit requirements, interference with student union elections, and violent responses to protests.
  • Al-Gihad, al-Gama`a al-Islamiyya, the Muslim Brotherhood, and other Islamic militants cease direct threats and other actions that have had a chilling effect on course books and research topics.
  • The state defend academics who are targeted by non-state actors’ attempts to restrict academic freedom.


[338] Human Rights Watch interview with Irfan Siddiq, head, Press and Public Affairs section, U.K. Embassy, Cairo, February 19, 2003.

[339] Human Rights Watch interview with Saad el-Raghy, professor of metallurgical engineering, Faculty of Engineering, Cairo University, Cairo, February 23, 2003.

[340] Human Rights Watch interview with AUC professor, Cairo, February 16, 2003.

[341] Human Rights Watch interview with AUC theater professor, Cairo, February 26, 2003.

[342] Human Rights Watch interview with Mike Zaug, bookstore manager, AUC, Cairo, March 2, 2003.

[343] Mike Zaug, “The Challenges of Bookselling in Egypt,” c. 2001, p. 3.

[344] Human Rights Watch interview with Samia Mehrez, associate professor, Department of Arabic Studies, AUC, February 16, 2003.

[345] Human Rights Watch interview with Shahira el Sawy, dean of libraries and learning technologies, AUC, February 25, 2003.

[346] Human Rights Watch interview with AUC theater professor, Cairo, February 26, 2003.

[347] Human Rights Watch interview with Mustapha Kamel al-Sayyid, professor, Political Science Department, Faculty of Economics and Political Sciences, Cairo University, and Political Science Department, AUC, Cairo, February 25, 2003.

[348] Human Rights Watch interview with AUC sociologist, Cairo, February 18, 2003.

[349] Human Rights Watch interview with Cairo University professor, Cairo, February 2003.

[350] Human Rights Watch interview with Sayyed el-Bahrawy, professor of modern Arabic literature, Department of Arabic Literature and Language, Faculty of Arts, Cairo University, Cairo, February 25, 2003.

[351] Human Rights Watch interview with Nadia Touba, associate professor, English as a Foreign Language, Faculty of Education, Alexandria University, Cairo, February 24, 2003.

[352] Authorities generally ignore classes taught in foreign languages so professors in those fields described the classroom as a comparatively open environment for discussion. Hoda al-Gindi, a professor of English literature at Cairo University, said, “I’ve never been told what to teach or not. If it happened a number of us would resign.” Human Rights Watch interview with Hoda al-Gindi, professor, English Department, Faculty of Arts, Cairo University, Cairo, February 22, 2003. A professor who has taught at `Ain Shams University and a private Egyptian university concurred. “The atmosphere is totally free. We have the luxury of freedom to do a lot of different things. No one interferes with the content of what we teach. We can bring in different perspectives.” Human Rights Watch interview with `Ain Shams University professor, Cairo, March 1, 2003. See also Human Rights Watch interview with assistant lecturer, Faculty of Arts, Cairo University, Cairo, February 17, 2003; Human Rights Watch interview with professor of English and Comparative Literature, Faculty of Arts, Cairo University, Cairo, March 4, 2003.

[353] Human Rights Watch interview with Samia Mehrez, associate professor, Department of Arabic Studies, AUC, February 16, 2003.

[354] Human Rights Watch interview with AUC professor, Cairo, February 16, 2003.

[355] For example, Samia Mehrez said as an Egyptian she has more freedom on cultural issues because “I am part of this culture and you can’t tell me that I don’t know the culture.” Human Rights Watch interview with Samia Mehrez, associate professor, Department of Arabic Studies, AUC, February 16, 2003.

[356] Human Rights Watch interview with Ahmad Isma`il, deputy editor, al-Ahali, Cairo, February 15, 2003.

[357] Human Rights Watch interview with Reem Saad, research associate professor, Social Research Center, AUC, Cairo, February 25, 2003.

[358] Human Rights Watch interview with Mustapha Kamel al-Sayyid, professor, Political Science Department, Faculty of Economics and Political Sciences, Cairo University, and Political Science Department, AUC, Cairo, February 25, 2003.

[359] Ibid.

[360] Human Rights Watch interview with Reem Saad, research associate professor, Social Research Center, AUC, Cairo, February 25, 2003.

[361] Human Rights Watch interview with Emad Shahin, associate professor, Political Science Department, AUC, Cairo, February 18, 2003. See also Mustapha Kamel al-Sayyid, professor, Political Science Department, Faculty of Economics and Political Sciences, Cairo University, and Political Science Department, AUC, Cairo, February 25, 2003 (“Ibrahim was a more political case, not [based on] his lectures or books.”).

[362] “The professor’s role centers basically on teaching. There is generally an uncritical reliance on the West for research, training and teaching styles.” Hanada Taha-Thomure, Academic Freedom in Arab Universities (New York: University Press of America, n.d.), p. 2.

[363] Human Rights Watch interview with Salah al-Sayyid al-Sirwi, assistant professor, Arab Language Department, Faculty of Arts, Hilwan University, Cairo, March 4, 2003.

[364] Human Rights Watch interview with `Imad Mubarak, Cairo, February 23, 2003.

[365] Geneive Abdo, No God but God, p. 163.

[366]Not all academics sympathized with Abu Zaid. “Abu Zaid was crazy. He knew he was doing things that aren’t accepted, like walking naked in the street. He’s crazy and he hurts others’ issues. He was wrong on that. He didn’t use common sense... ,” said English professor Dalia El-Shayal, who herself is not an Islamist and has spent time living in the United States. “I’m not saying restrict yourself. If you don’t want to do it [follow accepted mores], don’t live here.” Human Rights Watch interview with Dalia El-Shayal, assistant professor, English Department, Faculty of Arts, Cairo University, Cairo, February 27, 2003.

[367] Human Rights Watch interview with Islamist professor, Faculty of Dar al-`Ulum, Cairo University, Cairo, March 4, 2003.

[368] Human Rights Watch interview with Alexandria University student #1, Cairo, February 22, 2003.

[369] Human Rights Watch interview with `Issam Hashish, professor, Department of Electronics and Communications, Faculty of Engineering, Cairo University, Cairo, March 3, 2003.

[370] Human Rights Watch interview with Margo Abdel Aziz, Senior EFL/Civil Education Programs Specialist, English Language Programs Office, U.S. Embassy, Cairo, February 19, 2003.

[371] Human Rights Watch interview with Bassam Murtada, Cairo, February 28, 2003.

[372] Ibid.

[373] Ibid.

[374] Human Rights Watch interview with Iman Kamil, Cairo, February 24, 2003.

[375] Ibid.

[376] Human Rights Watch interview with Irfan Siddiq, head, Press and Public Affairs section, U.K. Embassy, Cairo, February 19, 2003.


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