In Egypt, leaving prison does not mean escaping the security state

In Egypt, leaving prison does not mean escaping the security state Asim Qureshi on Sun, 09/27/2026 - 15:09 Abdelrahman ElGendy's memoir Huna shows how release from an Egyptian prison brings surveillance, enforced silence and the threat of renewed detention Security forces guard Cairo's Tora prison, one of several in which Abdelrahman ElGendy was held over six years of detention, on 17 June 2019 (Reuters/Amr Abdallah Dalsh) Off From the very beginning of his detention, Abdelrahman ElGendy, who had just turned 17, was forced to reckon with the constant assault that is prison life in Egypt. After being unlawfully detained in October 2013 for being close to a protest, and categorised as an alleged Muslim Brotherhood "terrorist" (read: protester), he found himself interned in Egypt's spiralling archipelago of political prisons, along with his father. The assault that is prison life is not just in the physical act of detention, or the violence and torture enacted by captors; it is in every sound and movement made in the prison. Contrary to popular understanding, an assault in law is not an act of violence itself, but the apprehension that unlawful violence might take place - and nothing better describes life in Egypt's prisons than a constant assault. On his first night, given no actual reason for his arrest other than the amorphous accusation of being Ikhwan (Muslim Brotherhood), ElGendy recalls in his memoir, Huna: "Are they going to torture us?" I blurted. I could not look at Baba. (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({}); "Well, they haven't so far. So that's a good sign." Aboulfetouh shrugged. "Maybe they'll pass us tonight." Ten minutes later, the locks clanked outside, and I stiffened. The guard pushed open the door and signaled to me and Baba to follow him. They came for us. The movement of the guards outside, the sound of the keys jangling in the door, the clank of a door being opened - these are part of the on