Trust in Egypt's judiciary shaken after mass verdicts

After the mass death sentences in Minya, hundreds of defendants have fled from the judiciary. They leave behind desperate relatives and many unanswered questions. Few have any hopes of justice being served.

Deutsche Welle, 21 June 2014

"If my son has murdered anyone, I'd shoot him first, before the government does," Abdelhalim Salama Sayyed says, his voice full of anger. "If he does something like that, I've failed as a father."

The farmer has not seen his son for three months, ever since a judge, after a quickfire trial, handed down the death sentence to 529 defendants at the end of March.

They are alleged to have stormed the police station in Matya in the Minya province and murdered police officer Mostafa el-Attar. Four other officers were severely injured. Farmer Sayyed's son was one of them, according to the court.

'If only the fence could talk'

Banana farmer Abdelhalim Salama
Sayyed is certain his son is innocent

But his father is convinced he is innocent. The 73-year-old is working extra hard in the unrelenting heat. On his banana plantation in Cheikh Hassan, a village not far from Minya, Sayyed is weeding and felling diseased trees.

His son had been helping him on the plantation the day of the alleged crime, he insists. Along with his two cousins, they worked until well into the evening building a fence to keep animals from entering the field and damaging the trees.

The cousins, as well as several other people from the village who had seen Moatamad Samala in the field, testified as to his whereabouts that night.

That notwithstanding, he was sentenced to death. At the retrial in April, that sentence was converted to life imprisonment for Salama along with 429 defendants. The death sentence was upheld against 37 of the 529 defendants.

"I wish the fence could talk and confirm that my son was here with me and not in Matay," Sayyed says, his voice full of sadness, his hands raised towards the sky. "My hope is now with God first, then with this new president that we have."

He wants President Abdel Fatteh el-Sissi to clean things up. "We just want justice to be served," he says, almost shouting now. "If you're guilty, off to the gallows with you, if you're innocent, you should be freed and allowed to carry on with your work."

No confidence in judiciary

Lawyer Mohammad Ahmed (right) with
 farmer Abdelhalim Sayyed Salama, the
 wife of the accused Moatamad Salama,
and his three children

Many Egyptians see the Minya mass verdicts as a crusade against the Muslim Brotherhood by the current regime and, specifically, by the military.

But many of those convicted insist they are not even advocates of the the now banned Islamist Muslim Brotherhood. Like Atef Ahmad Hassan and Mabrouk Farag. They fled after the verdict and want to keep their current location secret.

"Firstly, I'd like to say that I'm hugely in favor of our new president, Abdel Fatteh el-Sissi," Farag says. "I'm a farmer, I'm not interested in politics," he adds. "And I never liked the Muslim Brotherhood."

He suspects his neighbor was holding a grudge, prompting him to testify to police. "Where I come from, everyone knows each other, why would I, of all people, be the one who is singled out?" he asks incredulously.

Mabrouk Farag says he is in financial trouble, and hasn't seen his children for months. He has no idea how his family is doing, he says. He also says he will turn himself in as soon as the judges are prepared to re-examine the evidence.

His solicitor had advised him to do that, he says. "I trust in God and Egypt's judges."

Atef Ahmad Hassan, a stately man with a white gown and a long, black beard, on the other hand, has little faith in the judiciary. He, too, insists he is not guilty in any way. "If I had done something, I'd turn myself in immediately," he says.

"Many claim I'm a member of the Muslim Brotherhood, but I'm just a preacher, an al-Ahzar scholar who fears God," he said. He was there when the attack took place. "I just wanted to mediate," he claims.

But he knows it's nigh on impossible to prove his intentions back then. There are videos showing him at the scene, but he swears to God that he "wanted to save the victim, whom he knew well." Does he plan on turning himself in? "As soon as I get the impression that there is justice in our country," he says.

'Judge didn't examine evidence'

Back to Cheikh Hassan, where Salama Sayyed's brother-in-law is visiting. He is also his son Moatamad's solicitor. "It's those videos and the testimonies that document the crime," Ahmed Mohammad says. He also represents 17 other defendants in the case.

He doesn't want to comment on the verdict. "The Egyptian judiciary has a long tradition. It's fair and just," he says, emphasizing every single word. Later, he does admit that "one has to watch what one says these days."

He doesn't want to criticize the judiciary outright. "But there were significant formal errors in this trial," he explains.

"There are 90 videos showing exactly what happened. You can see very clearly who was involved in the killing. But the judge didn't look at them and did not call an expert to assess them either," he said.

All that's left for farmer Abdelhalim Salama Sayyed is to shake his head at that.