Visitation rights do not exist in Egyptian prisons, where abuses continue

Family visitations to prisoners in Egypt are limited to 20-minutes once a month and can only be from behind double-glazed windows. A trip to visit loved ones can be a journey of pain.

The high security prison complex north-east of Cairo is called Badr. It has witnessed many stories of oppression and tears. So much so, that the people interviewed for this article requested an the use of pseudonyms for fear of being arrested or pursued by the Egyptian security forces.

Hoda Ali told me that she has not touched her husband for years, not even to shake his hand, and he has not been able to hug his two children. All they get is a phone call, under tight security surveillance and eavesdropping devices. She can hear his voice but cannot see him well behind the double-glazed windows.

In Badr Prison, new forms of abuse are introduced against political prisoners, especially those opposed to President Abdel Fattah Al-Sisi’s regime. Prisoners are deprived of the most basic rights guaranteed by Egyptian law.

They may, for example, be denied visitations for unknown reasons, such as happened to Ahmed Hamdi. He waited for six hours in the early morning so that he could visit his father in Badr 1 Prison. When he got to the visitation gate, he was told to go back and was only allowed to leave some of the food items he had brought with him for his father.

From time to time, the Egyptian Interior Ministry broadcasts public service-style adverts about detention facilities, presenting a positive image of the treatment of prisoners. Media professionals and parliamentarians loyal to the regime are allowed into the prisons so that they can highlight the alleged “good” treatment.

The amendment to Article 38 of Egypt’s Prison Organisation Law No. 396 of 1956 stipulates that, “Every convict has the right to correspondence and telephone communication in exchange for a fee. His family has the right to visit him twice a month. All of this under the control and supervision of the prison administration and in accordance with the controls and procedures specified by the internal regulations.”

It adds that: “A pretrial detainee has this right unless a decision is issued by the competent Public Prosecution or the competent investigating judge to the contrary, in accordance with the procedures specified by the internal regulations. The prison administration works to treat prisoners’ visitors humanely and guarantees them appropriate places for waiting and visiting.”

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However, Article No. 42 of the same law stipulates that, “Visiting may be absolutely prohibited or restricted according to the circumstances at certain times for health or security reasons.”

This is a broad article that allows prisoners to be deprived of visitations for years.

If a political prisoner is a victim of forced disappearance, his or her family does not have the right to visit or know where he or she is imprisoned in the first place. The National Security Service denies that they have the person in detention, and the Public Prosecution cannot question the officers of a sovereign apparatus, who have vast powers that make them above legal accountability.

Muhammad Abdullah says that he was forcibly disappeared for months, and none of his relatives were able to visit him or know where he was being held. Rather, he received threats about being re-arrested if his location was revealed, or if a complaint was filed with the relevant authorities.

As for pretrial detainees or those given their final sentences, whether or not they receive visitations is decided by the prisoner’s identity, the charges against him/her, and the prison they’re held in, while the law is put aside. This means that the matter is subject to the discretion of the prison administration and the National Security officer responsible for the prisoner. For example, human rights activist and former member of the National Council for Human Rights, Hoda Abdel Moneim, who has been detained since 1 November, 2018, received only one visit in five years, according to human rights reports.

In October 2022, former presidential candidate Abdel Moneim Abu Al-Fotouh, who has been detained since February 2018, declined to attend a visit by his family because of the glass barrier. His son posted on Facebook saying: “We have been banned from normal visits for more than three years. We have the right to greet him and communicate with him directly, not through a phone and a glass barrier.”

Amnesty International says that the Egyptian authorities have a history of depriving dozens of political detainees of family visitations for months or even years.

In addition, the authorities have not yet complied with prison regulations that require bi-weekly phone calls for detainees.

Some visits only last for 10 minutes, from behind glass windows and metal bars, which keeps prisoners away from their family. This is how visits are conducted in Egypt’s central prisons.

However, visitations may last up to 40 minutes in public prisons, where those sentenced to aggravated imprisonment are held. Prisoners in these prisons can meet their first-degree relatives, without barriers and can even eat together.

At the same time, a visit duration may be reduced to only five minutes which is considered one of the worst visits, leaving severe psychological scars on the prisoners and their families.

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Magdy Saber says that families go through a lot of hardships to visit their loved ones in the New Valley Prison, in the south of Egypt, as they come from distant governorates to see their relatives for just five minutes. There is also a need to consider the abuse to which prisoners are subjected. They are forced to shave their heads before they go out to meet their family members.

As for police departments in Egypt, it is typical to pay some money to police secretaries, a lower rank than an officer, in exchange for providing certain amenities, such as allowing clothes and food to be taken in for prisoners, allowing them to make a phone call with family members, or improving their living conditions inside the police station.

Imad Al-Sayed says that he paid 1,000 Egyptian pounds ($20) as a bribe to a security officer to take food and clothes to his brother, who was held in a police station in Cairo on charges of belonging to a banned group, spreading false news and misusing social networking sites. He was not able to see his brother though.

The suffering is not limited to family members only.

It is possible for the prisoner’s lawyer to get an official permit from the public prosecution which orders that he is allowed visit the detainee, his client, in prison, but the prison administration may procrastinate or may ignore this permit altogether.

This month, human rights lawyer Khaled Ali said that the administration of the 10th Rehabilitation 4 Prison in Sharkia Governorate refused to let the defence team for former parliamentarian Ahmed Al-Tantawi visit him in prison, despite obtaining a permit from the Public Prosecution.

Article 39 of the aforementioned Prison Organisation Law and its amendments stipulate that, “The prisoner’s lawyer is authorised to meet with him in private on the condition of obtaining written permission from the Public Prosecution and from the investigating judge in the cases he is assigned to investigate, whether the meeting is at the request of the prisoner or that of the lawyer.”

There are three types of visits for prisoners: the first is the regular visit for those serving a sentence, and it is set at twice a month. The second is the exceptional visit on national and religious holidays and events, which is determined by a decision from the Interior Ministry. The third is the visit from lawyers, which is issued with a permit from the Public Prosecutor, and is private between the prisoner and his lawyer, and does not count as one of the regular or exceptional visits.

In addition to the hardship and trouble of the visit, the financial cost of getting to see the detainee for only minutes has increased. It includes renting a car to get to the prisons which were built in remote border and desert areas; preparing food for the prisoner and his/her cellmates; and depositing a sum of money for the prisoner in the prison account, so that it can be spent in prison.

Families of political prisoners depend on the subsistence system, which brings together the families of detainees and allows them to provide food weekly to the largest number of prisoners in a given cell, according to the Egyptian Initiative for Personal Rights.

Families of detainees try to prepare hot fresh meals for their family members in prison due to the poor quality of food that the prison administration gives them.

The exorbitantly high prices in the Egyptian market have caused an increase in the cost of baskets that families leave for the prisoners. They include food, clothes and medications and are left with the prison guards to deliver to the prisoners, without the families being able to see their relatives.

Dr Laila Soueif, the mother of activist Alaa Abdel Fattah imprisoned in Wadi Al-Natrun Prison, estimates that the cost of the basket is at least 2,000 pounds, about $42, according to her statements to Al-Manassa website.

A political expert, who asked to remain anonymous, said:

“Depriving prisoners of visitations has become a punishment and a means of abuse, affecting both prisoners and their families.”

This is a reality to which anyone who’s had a relative detained by Al-Sisi’s regime can attest. So far, the regime has been responsible for the detention of about 65,000 political prisoners, according to estimates by the Arabic Network for Human Rights Information. Visitations rights, therefore, are a hugely important issue for very many people.

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The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.